BREAKERS. 85 
It is not easy to describe the labor of such navigation. We must pre 
vent the waves from dashing the boats against the cliffs. Sometimes, where 
the river is swift, we must put a bight of rope about a rock, to prevent her 
being snatched from us by a wave ; but where the plunge is too great, or 
the chute too swift, we must let her leap, and catch her below, or the under 
tow will drag her under the falling water, and she sinks. Where we wish 
to run her out a little way from shore, through a channel between rocks, 
we first throw in little sticks of drift wood, and watch their course, to see 
where we must steer, so that she will pass the channel in safety. And so we 
hold, and let go, and pull, and lift, and ward, among rocks, around rocks, 
and over rocks. 
And now we go on through this solemn, mysterious way. The river 
is very deep, the canon very narrow, and still obstructed, so that there is no 
steady flow of the stream ; but the waters wheel, and roll, and boil, and we 
are scarcely able to determine where we can go. Now, the boat is carried 
to the right, perhaps close to the wall; again, she is shot into the stream, 
and perhaps is dragged over to the other side, where, caught in a whirlpool, 
she spins about. We can neither land nor run as we please. The boats are 
entirely unmanageable ; no order in their running can be preserved ; now 
one, now another, is ahead, each crew laboring for its own preservation. In 
such a place we come to another rapid. Two of the boats run it perforce. 
One succeeds in landing, but there is no foot-hold by which to make a port 
age, and she is pushed out again into the stream. The next minute a great 
reflex wave fills the open compartment ; she is water-logged, and drifts 
unmanageable. Breaker after breaker rolls over her, and one capsizes her. 
The men are thrown out ; but they cling to the boat, and she drifts down 
some distance, alongside of us, and we are able to catch her. She is soon 
bailed out, and the men are aboard once more ; but the oars are lost, so a 
pair from the "Emma Dean" is spared. Then for two miles we find smooth 
water. 
Clouds are playing in the canon to day. Sometimes they roll down 
in great masses, filling the gorge with gloom ; sometimes they hang above, 
from wall to wall, and cover the canon with a roof of impending storm ; 
and we can peer long distances up and down this canon corridor, with its 
