NINE DAYS' KATIONS. 89 
We divide it among the boats, and carefully store it away, so that it can be 
lost only by the loss of the boat itself. 
We make- ten miles and a half, and camp among the rocks, on the right. 
We have had rain, from time to time, all day, and have been thoroughly 
drenched and chilled; but between showers the sun shines with great 
power, and the mercury in our thermometers stands at 115, so that we have 
rapid changes from great extremes, which are very disagreeable. It is 
especially cold in the rain to-night. The little canvas we have is rotten and 
useless ; the rubber ponchos, with which we started from Green River City, 
have all been lost ; more than half the party is without hats, and not one of 
us has an entire suit of clothes, and we have not a blanket apiece. So we 
gather drift wood, and build a fire ; but after supper the rain, coming down 
in torrents, extinguishes it, and we sit up all night, on the rocks, shivering, 
and are more exhausted by the night's discomfort than by the day's toil. 
August 18. The day is employed in making portages, and we advance 
but two miles on our journey. Still it rains. 
While the men are at work making portages, I climb up the granite to 
its summit, and go away back over the rust colored sandstones and greenish 
yellow shales, to the foot of the marble wall. I climb so high that the men 
and boats are lost in the black depths below, and the dashing river is a rip 
pling brook ; and still there is more canon above than below. All about me 
are interesting geological records. The book is open, and I can read as I 
run. All about me are grand views, for the clouds are playing again in the 
gorges. But somehow I think of the nine days' rations, and the bad river, 
and the lesson of the rocks, and the glory of the scene is but half seen. 
I push on to an angle, where I hope to get a view of the country 
beyond, to see, if possible, what the prospect may be of our soon running 
through this plateau, or, at least, of meeting with some geological change 
that will let us out of the granite ; but, arriving at the point, I can see below 
only a labyrinth of deep gorges. 
August 19. Rain again this morning. Still we are in our gran 
ite prison, and the time is occupied until noon in making a long, bad 
portage. 
After dinner, in running a rapid, the pioneer boat is upset by a wave 
12 COL 
