REPAIRING BOATS AND BAROMETERS. 63 
last camp. A very hard day's work has been done, and at evening I sit on 
a rock by the edge of the river, to look at the water, and listen to its roar. 
Hours ago, deep shadows had settled into the canon as the sun passed behind 
the cliffs. Now, doubtless, the sun has gone down, for we can see no glint 
of light on the crags above. Darkness is coming on. The waves are roll 
ing, with crests of foam so white they seem almost to give a light of their 
own. Near by, a chute of water strikes the foot of a great block of lime 
stone, fifty feet high, and the waters pile up against it, and roll back. Where 
there are sunken rocks, the water heaps up in mounds, or even in cones. 
At a point where rocks come very near the surface, the water forms a chute 
above, strikes, and is shot up ten or fifteen feet, and piles back in gentle 
curves, as in a fountain; and on the river tumbles and rolls. 
July 25. Still more rapids and falls to day. In one, the "Emma Dean" 
is caught in a whirlpool, and set spinning about ; and it is with great diffi 
culty we are able to get out of it, with the loss of an oar. At noon, another 
is made ; and on we go, running some of the rapids, letting down with lines 
past others, and making two short portages. We camp on the right bank, 
hungry and tired. 
July 26. We run a short distance this morning, and go into camp, to 
make oars and repair boats and barometers. The walls of the canon have 
been steadily increasing in altitude to this point, and now they are more 
than two thousand feet high. In many places, they are vertical from the 
water's edge ; in others, there is a talus between the river and the foot of the 
cliffs, and they are often broken down by side canons. It is probable that 
the river is nearly as low now as it is ever found. High water mark can be 
observed forty, fifty, sixty, or a hundred feet above its present stage. Some 
times logs and drift wood are seen wedged into the crevice overhead, where 
floods have carried them. 
About ten o'clock, Powell, Bradley, Howland, Hall, and myself start 
up a side canon to the east. We soon come to pools of water ; then to a 
brook, which is lost in the sands below; and, passing up the brook, we find 
the canon narrows, the walls close in, are often overhanging, and at last we 
find ourselves in a vast amphitheater, with a pool of deep, clear, cold water 
on the bottom. At first, our way seems cut off; but we soon discover a 
