50 EXPLORATION OP THE CANONS OF THE COLORADO. 
it, into a more open country, which extends for a distance of nearly a mile, 
when we enter another canon, cut through gray sandstone. 
About three o'clock in the afternoon we meet with a new difficulty. 
The river fills the entire channel; the walls are vertical on either side, from 
the water's edge, and a bad rapid is beset with rocks. We come to the head 
of it, and land on a rock in the stream; the little boat is let down to another 
rock below, the men of the larger boat holding to the line; the second boat 
is let down in the same way, and the line of the third boat is brought with 
them. Now, the third boat pushes out from the upper rock, and, as we have 
her line below, we pull in and catch her, as she is sweeping by at the foot of 
the rock on which we stand. Again the first boat is let down stream the full 
length of her line, and the second boat is passed down by the first to the 
extent of her line, which is held by the men in the first boat ; so she is two 
lines' length from where she started. Then the third boat is let down past 
the second, and still down, nearly to the length of her line, so that she is 
fast to the second boat, and swinging down three lines' lengths, with the 
other two boats intervening. Held in this way, the men are able to pull 
her into a cove, in the left wall, where she is made fast. But this leaves a 
man on the rock above, holding to the line of the little boat. When all is 
ready, he springs from the rock, clinging to the line with one hand, and 
swimming with the other, and we pull him in as he goes by. As the two 
boats, thus loosened, drift down, the men in the cove pull us all in, as we 
come opposite; then we pass around to a point of rock below the cove, close 
to the wall, land, and make a short portage over the worst places in the rapid, 
and start again. 
At night we camp on a sand beach; the wind blows a hurricane; the 
drifting sand almost blinds us; and nowhere can we find shelter. The wind 
continues to blow all night; the sand sifts through our blankets, and piles 
over us, until we are covered as in a snow-drift. We are glad when morn 
ing comes. 
July 13. This morning, we have an exhilarating ride. The river is 
swift, and there are many smooth rapids. I stand on deck, keeping careful 
watch ahead, and we glide along, mile after mile, plying strokes now on the 
right, and then on the left, just sufficient to guide our boats past the rocks into 
