PA-RU'-NU-WEAP <JA$X)N. 109 
desert; not a desert plain, but a desert of rocks, cut by deep gorges, and 
relieved by towering cliffs and pinnacled rocks naked rocks, brilliant in the 
sunlight. 
By a difficult trail, we make our way down the basaltic ledge, through 
which innumerable streams here gather into a little river, running in a deep 
canon. The river runs close to the foot of the cliffs, on the right hand side, 
and the trail passes along to the right. At noon we rest, and our animals 
feed on luxuriant grass. 
Again we start, and make slow progress along a stony way. At night 
we camp under an overarching cliff. 
September 10. Here the river turns to the west, and our way, properly, 
is to the south; but we wish to explore the Rio Virgen as far as possible. 
The Indians tell us that the canon narrows gradually, a few miles below, 
and that it will be impossible to take our animals much farther down the 
river. Early in the morning, I go down to examine the head of this narrow 
part. After breakfast, having concluded to explore the canon for a few miles 
on foot, we arrange that the main party shall climb the cliff, and go around 
to a point eighteen or twenty miles below, where, the Indians say, the ani 
mals can be taken down by the river, and three of us set out on foot. 
The Indian name of the canon is Pa-ru' -nn-weap, or Roaring Water 
Canon. Between the little river and the foot of the walls, is a dense growth 
of willows, vines, and wild rose bushes, and, with great difficulty, we make 
our way through this tangled mass. It is not a wide stream only twenty 
or thirty feet across in most places; shallow, but very swift. After spend 
ing some hours in breaking our way through the mass of vegetation, and 
climbing rocks here and there, it is determined to wade along the stream. 
In some places this is an easy task, but here and there we come to deep 
holes, where we have to wade to our arm pits. Soon we come to places so 
narrow that the river fills the entire channel, and we wade perforce. In 
many places the bottom is a quicksand, into which we sink, and it is with 
great difficulty that we make progress. In some places the holes are so deep 
that we have to swim, and our little bundles of blankets and rations are fixed 
to a raft made of driftwood, and pushed before us. Now and then there is 
a little flood-plain, on which we can walk, and we cross and recross the 
