250 
The Colorado River 
knocks we deemed it unsafe to risk the other. Our camp 
was on a small level place among some pine trees, almost over 
the fall, and I think I never saw a more romantic spot. The 
moon shone down into the canyon with surpassing brilliancy, 
and this, in contrast to our lavish camp-fire and extremely 
comfortable surroundings, made a combination ever to be 
remembered. See pages 113 and 112. 
It was on one of the huge rocks above the river on the left 
that Ashley wrote his name. This was in black letters, 
sheltered by a slight projection of the rock which acted as a 
cornice. Thus it had remained distinct, except one figure of 
the date, for forty-six years, having been done in 1825. The 
portage around Ashley Falls was laborious as we were obliged 
to climb with everything about fifty feet above the river, but 
labour is better than disaster, and it was on such points as these 
that Powell and Thompson always exhibited good sense. 
Smaller men would have been unable to resist the temptation 
to run everything, for there comes an exhilaration in this work 
that is subtle and dangerous. Below this the declivity was very 
great, but as there were few rocks our boats were able to go 
down flying. The walls were two thousand to twenty-five 
hundred feet high, but not vertical. Suddenly we ran out into 
a beautiful little valley on the right known to trappers as Little 
Brown’s Hole, and renamed by our party Red Canyon Park. 
Here we camped for a day and then went on between high 
walls over a number of rapids, to emerge into Brown’s Park. 
This place, I take it, was the end of Ashley’s journey down 
the river. Sailing along on a quiet current in a valley six 
miles wide, we ran upon a camp of cattle herders, where 
Richardson left us, as Powell decided that he was not able to 
stand the work. He regretfully went back with some of the 
cattlemen to Green River Station. 
The temperature was now often 99° F. in the shade, and 
rowing on the slow current was irksome, so we lashed the 
boats together and drifted along while the Major in his arm¬ 
chair read aloud selections from Scott, Emerson, and others, 
whose condensed poetical works and a couple of Bibles were 
all the literature to be found in the party, as books are heavy 
