62 EXPLORATION OF THE CANONS OF THE COLORADO. 
rock; the heavens for a ceiling; cascade fountains within; a grove in the 
conservatory, clear lakelets for a refreshing bath, and an outlook through the 
doorway on a raging river, with cliffs and mountains beyond. 
Our way, after dinner, is through a gorge, grand beyond description. 
The walls are nearly vertical; the river broad and swift, but free from rocks 
and falls. From the edge of the water to the brink of the cliffs it is one 
thousand six hundred to one thousand eight hundred feet. At this great 
depth, the river rolls in solemn majesty. The cliffs are reflected from the 
more quiet river, and we seem to be in the depths of the earth, and yet can 
look down into waters that reflect a bottomless abyss. We arrive, early in 
the afternoon, at the head of more rapids and falls, but, wearied with past 
work, we determine to rest, so go into camp, and the afternoon and evening 
are spent by the men in discussing the probabilities of successfully navigat 
ing the river below. The barometric records are examined, to see what 
descent we have made since we left the mouth of the Grand, and what 
descent since we left the Pacific Eailroad, and what fall there yet must be to 
the river, ere we reach the end of the great calions. The conclusion to 
which the men arrive seems to be about this : that there are great descents 
yet to be made, but, if they are distributed in rapids and short falls, as they 
have been heretofore, we will be able to "overcome them. But, may be, we 
shall come to a fall in these canons which we cannot pass, where the walls 
rise from the water's edge, so that we cannot land, and where the water is 
so swift that we cannot return. Such places have been found, except that 
the falls were not so great but that we could run them with safety. How 
will it be in the future ! So they speculate over the serious probabili 
ties in jesting mood, and I hear Sumner remark, "My idea is, we had better 
go slow, and learn to peddle." 
July 24. We examine the rapids below. Large rocks have fallen from 
the walls great, angular blocks, which have rolled down the talus, and are 
strewn along the channel. We are compelled to make three portages in 
succession, the distance being less than three fourths of a mile, with a fall 
of seventy five feet. Among these rocks, in chutes, whirlpools, and great 
waves, with rushing breakers and foam, the water finds its way, still tum 
bling down. We stop for the night, only three fourths of a mile below the 
