SIX DAYS WITHOUT FOOD. 213 
cafion wall, the rocks became very black, with shining sur- 
faces—probably where the igneous took the place of the 
cretaceous rocks. 
Six days without food, save the few green leaves, and 
eleven days since starting, and still the uneven current bore 
on the raft with its wretched occupant. He saw occasional 
breaks in the wall, with here and there a bush. Too weak to 
move his raft, he floated past and felt no’ pain, for the over- 
wrought nerves refused to convey sensation. 
On the afternoon of this, the sixth day, he was roused by 
hearing the sound of human voices, and, raising himself on 
one arm, he looked towards the shore, and saw men beckon- 
ing to him. A momentary strength came to his arms, and, 
grasping the paddle, he urged the raft to the bank. On 
reaching it he found himself surrounded by a band of 
-Yampais Indians, who for many years have lived on a low 
strip of alluvial land along the bottom of the cafion, the trail 
to which, from the upper world, is only known to themselves. 
One of the Indians made fast the raft, while another seized 
White roughly and dragged him up the bank. He could not 
-remonstrate; his tongue refused to give a sound, so he 
pointed to his mouth and made signs for food. The fiend 
that pulled him up the bank, tore from his blistered shoulders 
the shreds that had once been a shirt, and was proceeding to 
take off the torn trousers, when, to the credit of the savage 
be it said, one of the Indians interfered, and pushed back his 
companions. He gave White some meat, and roasted mez- 
quit. beans to eat, which the famished man devoured, and 
after a little rest he made signs that he wanted to go to the 
nearest dwellings of the white men. The Indians told him 
he could reach them in “two suns” by his raft, so he stayed 
with them all night, and with a revolyer that remained 
