THE GRAND WASH. 10,3 
and anaesthetic drugs has filled the air with its loathsome burthen, at last 
goes out into the open field, what a world he sees! How beautiful the sky; 
how bright the sunshine; what " floods of delirious music" pour from the 
throats of birds; how sweet the fragrance of earth, and tree, and blossom! 
The first hour of convalescent freedom seems rich recompense for all 
pain, gloom, terror. 
Something like this are the feelings we experience to night. Ever 
before us has been an unknown danger, heavier than immediate peril. 
Every waking hour passed in the Grand Canon has been one of toil. We 
have watched with deep solicitude the steady disappearance of our scant 
supply of rations, and from time to time have seen the river snatch a portion 
of the little left, while we were ahungered. And danger and toil were 
endured in those gloomy depths, where ofttimes the clouds hid the sky by 
day, and but a narrow zone of stars could be seen at night. Only during 
the few hours of deep sleep, consequent on hard labor, has the roar of the 
waters been hushed. Now the danger is over; now the toil has ceased; now 
the gloom has disappeared ; now the firmament is bounded only by the 
horizon ; and what a vast expanse of constellations can be seen ! 
The river rolls by us in silent majesty; the quiet of the camp is sweet; 
our joy is almost ecstacy. We sit till long after midnight, talking of the 
Grand Canon, talking of home, but chiefly talking of the three men who 
left us. Are they wandering in those depths, unable to find a way out ? 
are they searching over the desert lands above for water I or are they near- 
ing the settlements? 
August 30. We run through two or three short, low canons to day, and 
on emerging from one, we discover a band of Indians in the valley below. 
They see us, and scamper away in most eager haste, to hide among the 
rocks. Although we land, and call for them to return, not an Indian can 
be seen. 
Two or three miles farther down, in turning a short bend in the river, 
we come upon another camp. So near are we before they can see us that 
I can shout to them, and, being able to speak a little of their language, I 
tell them we are friends; but they all flee to the rocks, except a man, a 
woman, and two children. We land, and talk with them. They are with- 
