Morning was a relief, though the thermometer stood at 11 F. There was water enough in the holes for breakfast, and as soon as this meal was over the pack-train was on the move towards Jacob's Pools, which we found not two miles farther on. There were two of them, each seven or eight feet long, supplied by fine clear water oozing out of a hill-side. The lower one we turned over to the animals, reserving the upper for ourselves. We approached the plateau all day, and late in the afternoon we were within three or four miles of it, when the right-hand cliffs turned sharply to the north in a line parallel with the plateau, forming a long narrow valley. Cedars and pinons now grew about us, so that we were assured of a good fire. About sunset we passed two large boulders which had fallen together, forming a rude shelter, under which Riggs or some one else had slept, and then had jocosely printed above with charcoal the words "Rock House Hotel." Afterward this had served as identification, and Jacob and the others had spoken of "House Rock" Spring and House Rock Valley. We called it the same, and finally it went on the maps and is now permanent. A few yards beyond the House Rock the trail led into a gulch, at the head of which was a good spring. Plenty of cedars and pinons grew about, and we soon had a fire that compensated for the meagre ones of the preceding nights. The sick men became warm and dry, and we all felt much better. The whole outfit halted two days, and on the second the poor little steer, gazing sadly at us, was shot and cut up. In an hour the quarters were swinging from a tree and some of the beef was in the pan. Necessity is a sauce that makes every grist palatable. We were hungry, and nothing could have tasted better than that fresh beefsteak. The entrails and refuse were left on the ground in the neighbouring gulley where we had killed the steer, and next morning the place was about cleaned up by the lurking wolves.

Prof. decided to go on across the Kaibab to Kanab with the two very sick men, and leave Cap., Clem, Andy, and me here at House Rock Spring until the plan for the winter's campaign had been better formulated. Steward concluded that his condition was too precarious to risk further exposure, and said he would now leave the expedition permanently, which we learned with deep regret, but it was plainly imperative. Jones thought that a week or two of warmth and rest, accompanied by a change of diet, would make him whole again and enable him to stay till the end of our special task. On Saturday, November 11th, the party started, with the invalids riding the gentlest and easiest horses, though Steward found it less painful at times to walk. I accompanied them to the summit of the Kaibab to bring back one of the horses we called Thunderbolt, on which Jones was to be carried to the top and there change to Doc. After I left them I halted many times to look out into the wonderful land to the west and north. When I got back to the spring, our Camp 3 of the land operations, we immediately set up a stout 6 by 8 tent that was in the outfit brought from Kanab, and it made a very snug sleeping-place for the four of us. Around the fire we rolled big stones for seats, and soon had the gulch in a homelike condition. There was an abundance of dead, fat pinon, which burned like a candle, and we could easily extend our reading into the evenings.

From all around us there arose the frequent bay and bark of the wolves. They were of different kinds, numerous and rather bold. At night they came in and cleared up what was left of the entrails of the steer, also securing a fine, large piece of beef which Cap. had hung in a tree, but not high enough to escape their efforts. We took turns bringing the four horses left with us to water, and in that way kept ourselves informed about them. During these trips, especially in the late afternoon, the wolves were apt to trot along near by, and on one occasion Clem was obliged to drive one out of the trail with stones, not having his rifle. One morning, as I was riding along not far from camp, a huge whitish fellow followed behind like a dog about twenty yards back, licking his chaps. At first I thought he might be the dog of some Indian camped near, but remembering that there were none in the valley, and also that an Indian dog, or any strange dog, would have run from me, I saw that he was a hungry wolf unused to man. I had no rifle with me, but I took a walk over the same ground next morning with my Winchester, hoping to see my acquaintance again, but he discreetly kept out of sight. We had little now to occupy us except to examine the locality, chop wood for our fire, and read over and over the newspapers and magazines. The nights were very cold, the spring always freezing over, but the days were delightful. The beef had to be jerked to preserve it. We cut it up into thin long strips, which we strung through the ends on long withes, these in turn being hung on a framework that left the strips swinging within two or three feet of a slow fire. One hour's neglect of this tempting array would have seen it vanish to the four winds, so we kept a constant watch day and night, taking turns through the dark hours. Every article which had grease or leather about it had to be carefully put away to prevent its disappearance. Riley had lost his spurs on the way out from this cause, the leather on them making sweet morsels for the watchers.

Cap. concluded to profit by this appetite, and in an adjoining gulch he built a trap between two rocks, in which he set his Remington six-shooter, so that a wolf picking up a scrap of beef would pull the trigger by a string and receive the ball in his head. That night during my watch over the beef I roasted a piece on a stick for a lunch, and as the savory odour drifted off on the crisp winter air howl after howl of ravenous desire rang out from many directions, followed by the bang of the revolver in the trap. Cap. went over, but found no game, though later he often came back with a fine large specimen, bearing a perfect coat of fur, which Cap. always removed by the firelight at once. About every night except Sunday, when Cap. refused to set the trap—for he never did any work on that day that was not absolutely necessary—there was a fatal shot, and he accumulated a lot of excellent large skins, which he tacked on trees to preserve them. He thought he had put them up securely high, but one morning every skin had disappeared. The wolf relatives had carried them away to the last shred.



The Kaibab was too far away for us to go there to hunt deer, and there were none around the spring, though one night at supper-time, the western sky being a broad sweep of deep orange, we saw a large wild animal of some sort on the crest of the hill silhouetted against the colour. I started for it with my rifle, but of course it did not wait; no animal ever does if he can help it, unless he is carnivorous and famished. The weather remained generally fair, though one day we had a wild gale that nearly relieved us of the tent in the midst of thick flurries of snow. We often climbed among the cliffs, and everywhere we found picture-writings, poles laid up, stepping-stones, fragments of pottery, arrowheads, and other evidences of former occupation. The poles and stones may have been placed by the Pai Utes as well as by the old Shinumos, who once were numerous over all this country. Cap. was by no means well. An extreme nervousness connected with the old gunshot wound developed, and he said he felt sure he could not continue the work in the field during the winter, much less go through the Grand Canyon with us the next year. Clem also felt under the weather, and besides was growing homesick. He confided to me one day that he also had concluded not to remain with us. As there was little the matter with him I undertook to argue him out of his determination not to go through the Grand Canyon, pointing out the disappointment he would feel when we had accomplished the passage and he realised that he might as well have come along. This produced some impression, but I was uncertain as to its lasting result.

By November 17th we began with confidence to look for some one to come over the mountains from Kanab, and just after sunset we heard Riley's long shrill "ee—ii—oooooooo," which he could deliver upon the air in such a fashion that it carried for miles. Presently Prof. and he rode into our camp with fresh supplies and a great bundle of mail that included papers giving the details of the burning of Chicago. Prof. with Cap. then reconnoitred the neighbourhood, and on the 21st he returned to Kanab, leaving us as before, except that Riley remained two days longer. The Major had not yet arrived at Kanab from Salt Lake and our winter work could not begin till he came. The days rolled by with occasional rain and snow and we began to grow impatient with our inaction, especially when November passed away. The second day of December was fading when we distinguished in the distance the familiar Riley yell, and in a little while he came into view with welcome news. We were to move at once to a spring eight miles from Kanab. He also brought some apples, native raisins and a large canteen full of fresh wine from "Dixie" as the country along the Virgin was called. These luxuries together with a number of letters from home made that night one of the most cheerful we had known for a long time. Monday morning, December 4th we left House Rock Spring behind with our pack-train, followed the trail across the open valley, climbed two thousand feet to the top of the Kaibab, and were soon traversing the forest on its broad summit. Riley having been over the trail now several times we went ahead steadily, and about sunset arrived at the farther side of a narrow longitudinal depression of the top which Cap. immediately put down in his notes as Summit Valley, a name that holds to-day. There we threw off our packs and made camp for the night. Though there was no water the ground was covered by a thin layer of snow, that made the long bunch grass palatable to the horses and for ourselves we had sufficient water in two small kegs and several canteens. A bright fire blazed cheerfully, the dense cedars broke the wind, and everybody felt that it was a fine camp. The others spent the evening playing euchre by firelight, but I preferred to read till bedtime.

The next morning, after crossing some rough gulches, we came to the western edge of the great plateau, and emerging from the forest of pine and cedar we saw again the magnificent, kaleidoscopic, cliff country lying to the north. First about twenty miles away was a line of low chocolate-coloured cliffs, then a few miles back of this the splendid line of the Vermilion Cliffs, the same which began at the mouth of Glen Canyon and which we had skirted to House Rock Spring. From there the line continued northward till it passed around the north end of the Kaibab, when it struck southwesterly far to our left, where it turned back to the north again, forming one of the longest and finest cliff ranges anywhere to be seen. Above them and some miles still farther back, rising higher, was a line of greyish cliffs following the trend of the Vermilion, and still above these was the broken meandering face of the Pink Cliffs, frosted with snow, whose crest marks the southeastern limit of Fremont's "Great Basin," the end of the High Plateaus, and tops the country at an altitude of some 11,000 feet above sea-level. A more extraordinary, bewildering landscape, both as to form and colour, could hardly be found in all the world. Winding our way down to the barren valley, in itself more a high plateau than a valley, we travelled the rest of the day in the direction of the great cliffs. The sun was just gone when we reached the first low line, and passing through a gap turned into a side gulch thickly studded with cedars, where we saw before us two white-covered waggons, two or three camp-fires blazing, and friends. We heard a hearty voice cry, "Tirtaan Aigles dis wai!" and we sprang from our horses to grasp Jack's welcoming hand and greet all the others, some of whom were new acquaintances. The fragrance of coffee and frying bacon filled the sharp air, while from the summits of the surrounding cliffs the hungry chorus of yelping wolves sent up their wail of disappointment.

In an alcove a large tent had been put up, which the Major's family was occupying, for Mrs. Powell and her baby daughter had come from Salt Lake with him, arriving a few days before. The daughter was but three months old and was happy in a big clothes-basket for a cradle. Mrs. Thompson, Prof.'s wife, and sister of the Major, had also come from Salt Lake and another large tent sheltered them, while still another of equal size, not yet erected, was designed for the men. It was a specially interesting camp to us who had come over from House Rock for it was novel to see so many people around. The Major himself was absent at Kanab. Before the camp was asleep the hour was late, and so soundly did every one rest that the sneaking wolves without the least molestation carried off two large sacks of the jerked beef from near our heads, where we had put it against a huge rock thinking they would not come so close; but as they had pulled a ham the night before from under the head of Captain Dodds where he had placed it for safety, we ought to have been more sensible. Two or three nights later, as I was sleeping in a special bed one of the men then absent had made by a big rock some yards from the main camp, I was awakened by a wolf crunching bones by the fire not eight feet from my head. I wanted to shoot the impertinent wretch, but his form was indistinct and my rifle lying by my side had to be trained his way. This took some time, as I had to move cautiously, and in the midst of my effort my elbow slipped. Like a shadow he flitted into the deeper gloom and I went to sleep again. I did not want to shoot without certainty, though some nights later I did shoot with Riley's huge double-barrelled shotgun loaded with buckshot straight into our mess kit, not killing the wolf that was there, but putting holes in numerous tin plates through which bean soup delighted to percolate, so that I never heard the last of this midnight effort of mine to diminish the wolf family.

The day following our arrival the Major came from Kanab and the plans for our winter's campaign were put in operation. A base line for our geographic work was necessary and this was to run south from Kanab, so Prof. on December 7th, with Mrs. Thompson, Cap., Clem, Andy, Jones (who had recovered his health), and one of the new men named MacEntee, left us with loaded waggons to establish another camp nearer to the scene of this work. Another member of the party was Fuzz, Mrs. Thompson's dog, an intelligent Dandie Dinmont. As I was much interested to see Kanab, of which so much had been said, and as it was now nearly seven months since I had seen an occupied house, I decided to take a Sunday ride in that direction. On the 17th, about noon, I put a saddle on a white mule which Jack had named Nigger and was soon on my way. Emerging from the Chocolate Cliffs the road led along the foot of the Vermilion Cliffs, crossing long ridges covered with cedars and pinons with a vast view to the Kaibab on the south and east, and soon joining a road that led from a canyon to eastward where there was a very small settlement called Johnson's, and from two or three houses which had been built where the El Vado trail crossed the Paria River. Nigger went along very well and I was in Kanab by three o'clock. The village, which had been started only a year or two, was laid out in the characteristic Mormon style with wide streets and regular lots fenced by wattling willows between stakes. Irrigating ditches ran down each side of every street and from them the water, derived from a creek that came down a canyon back of the town, could be led into any of the lots, each of which was about one quarter of an acre; that is, there were four lots to a block. Fruit trees, shade trees, and vines had been planted and were already beginning to promise near results, while corn, potatoes, etc., gave fine crops. The original place of settlement was a square formed by one-story log houses on three sides and a stockade on the fourth. This was called the fort and was a place of refuge, though the danger from Navajo attack seemed to be over and that from any assault by the Pai Utes certainly was past. One corner of the fort was made by the walls of the schoolhouse, which was at the same time meeting-house and ball-room. Altogether there were about 100 families in the village. The houses that had been built outside the fort were quite substantially constructed, some of adobe or sun-dried brick. The entire settlement had a thrifty air, as is the case with the Mormons. Not a grog-shop, or gambling saloon, or dance-hall was to be seen; quite in contrast with the usual disgraceful accompaniments of the ordinary frontier towns. A perfectly orderly government existed, headed by a bishop appointed by the church authorities in Salt Lake, the then incumbent of this office being an excellent man, Bishop Stewart. I rode to the fort, where I found Clem and Beaman domiciled with their photographic outfit, with a swarm of children peeping through every chink and crevice of the logs to get a view of the "Gentiles," a kind of animal they had seldom seen. Every one was cordial. Beaman even offered me a drink made with sugar-water and photographic alcohol, but it did not appeal to my taste. It was after sunset when I started Nigger towards Eight Mile Spring and I enjoyed the ride in the edge of night with not a living thing, besides Nigger (and Nigger was a mule), to disturb my reveries.

I had as yet seen none of the natives of the locality. They were now very friendly and considered harmless, thanks to Jacob's wise management. The only Indians the settlers dreaded were some renegades, a band of Utes and Navajos, collected by a bold and skillful chief named Patnish, whose "country" was south of the Colorado around Navajo Mountain. He was reputed to be highly dangerous, and the Kanab people were constantly prepared against his unwelcome visits. He had several handsome stalwart sons, who dressed in white and who generally accompanied him. Though Patnish was so much feared, I do not remember to have heard that he committed any depredations after this time. There had been much trouble with the Navajos, but Jacob, growing tired of the constant warfare, had resolved to go to them and see if he could not change the state of affairs. When he had guided the Major to the Moki Towns and Fort Defiance the year before (1870), about six thousand Navajos were assembled at the Agency. The chiefs were invited to meet in council on the 2d of November, and all the principal chiefs but one and all subchiefs but two were there. The Major led the way by introducing Jacob and speaking in highly complimentary terms of the Mormons; and Jacob then gave a long talk in his low-voiced way, illustrating the great evils of such warfare as had existed, and closed by saying:

"What shall I tell my people the 'Mormons' when I return home? That we may expect to live in peace, live as friends, and trade with one another? Or shall we look for you to come prowling around our weak settlements, like wolves in the night? I hope we may live in peace in time to come. I have now grey hairs on my head, and from my boyhood I have been on the frontiers doing all I could to preserve peace between white men and Indians. I despise this killing, this shedding of blood. I hope you will stop this and come and visit and trade with our people. We would like to hear what you have got to say before we go home."

Barbenceta, the principal chief, slowly approached as Jacob ended, and putting his arms around him said: "My friend and brother, I will do all that I can to bring about what you have advised. We will not give all our answer now. Many of the Navajos are here. We will talk to them to-night and will see you on your way home." Several days later Jacob met him and the chiefs who had been absent; he said they would all really like to see peace with the Mormons carried out, and continued:

"We have some bad men among us, but if some do wrong, the wise ones must not act foolishly, like children, but let it be settled according to the spirit of your talk at Fort Defiance. Here is Hastele. I wish you would take a good look at him, so you will not be mistaken in the man. He never lies or steals. He is a truthful man; we wish all difficult matters settled before him. He lives on the frontier nearest to the river; you can find him by inquiry. We hope we may be able to eat at one table, warm by one fire, smoke one pipe, and sleep under one blanket."



Jacob proceeded towards home, taking a Moki, named Tuba, and his wife back with him, so that they might see the Mormon country. Arriving at the crossing of the Colorado Tuba was sad. He said his people had once lived on the other side, and their fathers had told them they never again would go west of the river to live. "I am now going on a visit to see my friends. I have worshipped the Father of us all in the way you believe to be right; now I wish you would do as the Hopees think is right before we cross." Jacob assented, and Tuba, he said,

"then took his medicine bag from under his shirt and offered me a little of its contents. I offered my left hand to take it; he requested me to take it with my right. He then knelt with his face to the east, and asked the Great Father of us all to preserve us in crossing the river. He said that he and his wife had left many friends at home, and if they never lived to return their friends would weep much. He prayed for pity upon his friends the Mormons, that none of them might drown in crossing; and that all the animals we had with us might be spared, for we needed them all, and to preserve unto us all our food and clothing, that we need not suffer hunger nor cold on our journey. He then arose to his feet. We scattered the ingredients from the medicine bag into the air, on to the land, and into the water of the river."

When they were all safely over Tuba gave thanks that his prayer had been answered.[26]

The last white men to be killed by the Navajos in the Kanab region were Dr. Whitmore and his herder at Pipe Springs, twenty miles west, five years before in the winter of 1865-66. The raiders were pursued by a strong party, and some of them, turning down the Kanab Canyon, perhaps thinking the river could be crossed there, were surprised and fired on at dawn. Some escaped, though wounded. Jacob kept a close watch on all the passes, and especially at El Vado. Several raiders were intercepted and shot. In 1869 a raiding band successfully drove off twelve hundred head of horses and cattle from northern settlements, and the winter of 1869-70 was one of the worst, requiring Jacob's presence in the field almost constantly. He was accompanied by friendly Pai Utes, who hated the Navajos. One Navajo was shot in a band who had stolen cattle, but the others were allowed to leave on giving up the stock. The shot did not kill the Navajo, and they followed to see what became of him. He was carried along by his friends to where another raiding party was encamped. The Pai Utes then killed two of this party, scalping one, but refraining from taking the scalp of the other because he had sandy hair and looked too much like a white man. Later three more Navajos were killed in a fight, but the rest escaped with ten horses. Jacob grew heartily sick of this kind of work, and made the resolve to appeal to the Navajos, with the result stated. He also visited the Red Lake Utes to the north, and all the Indians along the Sevier. Beginning with the band of Navajos under Agua Grande, which we had met at El Vado, they came north in numerous parties with perfect confidence that the Mormons would receive them peacefully. But they continued to despise the Pai Utes, considering them beneath notice.

In September of the year 1870 the Major, by Brigham Young's advice, had engaged Jacob to go with him to Mt. Trumbull in the Uinkaret region adjoining the Shewits country. Jacob, wishing to see these Indians himself, was very willing to go. They made a camp by a spring, and finding some natives near, Jacob asked them to bring in some of the party who had taken part in the killing of the Howlands and Dunn the year before. Twelve or fifteen finally came, and they had a talk.

"I commenced [said Jacob] by explaining to the Indians Professor Powell's business. I endeavoured to get them to understand that he did not visit their country for any purpose that would work evil to them, that he was not hunting gold or silver or other metals; that he would be along the river next season with a party of men, and if they found any of them away from the river in the hills, they must be their friends and show them places where there was water if necessary."

They replied that friends of theirs from across the river had declared the men were miners and advised killing them, for if they found mines it would bring great evil among them. The men were followed and killed while asleep. They declared that had they been correctly informed about the men they would not have killed them. Kapurats ("No-arm," meaning the Major), they said, could travel and sleep in their country unmolested and they would show him and his men the watering-places.[27]

On December 19th we moved our camp from Eight Mile Spring to a place below the gap in the Chocolate Cliffs south of Kanab and not far below the Utah-Arizona boundary; the 37th parallel. Bonnemort and I remained behind to gather up the last articles and it was dark when we reached the new ground. Our large tent was pitched in the creek bottom with the others not far off, making quite a settlement. The weather was rainy and cold, but a conical sheet-iron stove heated the tent well and there we had dry comfortable evenings, some of the men singing, some writing letters or plotting notes, others reading and still others perhaps playing a game. Bonnemort was something of a singer and was specially fond of Beautiful Isle of the Sea, but Jack still maintained his complete supremacy as a tenor. His repertory always increased and he was ever ready to entertain us. One of his selections I remember was the ballad:

"I wandered by the brookside, I wandered by the mill; I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still, There was no burr of grasshopper No chirp of any bird, But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard."

Mrs. Thompson had a sweet voice and knew a lot of songs, which were frequently heard issuing from her tent, and this, with the presence of Mrs. Powell and the baby, added to the locality a pleasant homelike air. Both Mrs. Thompson and Mrs. Powell had been familiar with camp life, Mrs. Powell having spent a winter, 1868-69, with the Major in Middle Park, Colorado, near the camp of Chief Douglas, the father of our friend Douglas Boy.

Andy cooked all the meals on a fire out of doors, and they were no longer served in our "go fur it boys" canyon style, but a large canvas, showing by its colour the effects of exposure, was elegantly spread on the ground and around its edges the tin plates, cups, etc., were arranged, with the beanpot and other provender in the middle. This method continued henceforth. The company would sit around on the ground, each in whatever position was comfortable. Liberal portions of bread and sorghum molasses formed the dessert, and after a while so indispensable did the sorghum grow that we dubbed it the "staff of life." It was easy to get, quantities being produced in "Dixie." Kanab besides being favoured with two mails a week had a telegraph line connecting with the settlements of the Virgin region and with Salt Lake, and we now felt that once more we had a grip on the world.

On the 22d of December the Major, accompanied by Captain Dodds, Riley, and one of the Kanab men, John Stewart, a son of the bishop, started for the Kaibab to find a way to get rations to the Colorado next year near the mouth of the Little Colorado. The weather now was rather stormy but Prof. continued his observations as well as he could, and parties were sent out in a number of directions to place flags and monuments for the geodetic work. The base line was to be measured south from near Kanab for about ten miles. Christmas day came with rain and small prospect of special enjoyment, and we all kept the shelter of the tent after hunting up the horses in mud ankle-deep. But our dinner was a royal feast, for Mrs. Thompson herself made a huge plum-pudding and Prof. supplied butter and milk from Kanab, making this feature of the holiday an immense success. In the evening a number of us rode up to the settlement to witness a dance that had been announced to take place in the schoolhouse, tabernacle, or town hall—the stone building in the corner of the fort which answered all these functions. The room was about 15 by 30 feet and was lighted by three candles, a kerosene lamp, and a blazing fire of pitch pine. Two violins were in lively operation, one being played by Lyman Hamblin, a son of Old Jacob, and there was a refreshing air of decorous gaiety about the whole assemblage. Dancing is a regular amusement among the Mormons and is encouraged by the authorities as a harmless and beneficial recreation. At that time the dances were always opened with prayer. Two sets could occupy the floor at one time and to even things up, and prevent any one being left out, each man on entering was given a number, the numbers being called in rotation. None of our party joined as we were such strangers, but we were made welcome in every respect. It was ten o'clock before we left, and the way being dim and muddy, midnight was on before we threw off saddles at our camp.

The next morning work was begun on the base line, but for some days the weather was so bad that little was accomplished. The year 1871 ended in this way and we hoped the new one would be more propitious.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 24: Five years later Jacob came near being drowned in crossing here. Lorenzo W. Roundy was lost, as well as two waggons loaded with supplies. The scow they had tried to use tilted, throwing everything into the fierce torrent.]

[Footnote 25: It was in the rapid in Marble Canyon near the mouth of the canyon of this creek that Frank M. Brown was drowned in July, 1889.]

[Footnote 26: Jacob Hamblin, a Narrative, etc. Faith-promoting Series—Juvenile Instructor Office, Salt Lake City—1881.]

[Footnote 27: In 1864 the danger from the Pai Utes, who had not been well treated, increased till Jacob had to take the matter in hand and made a visit to the place where they were gathering for attack. He was asked how many men he wanted to go with him, and he answered, "One, and no arms; not even a knife in sight."]



CHAPTER XII

Reconnoitring and Triangulating—A Pai Ute New Year's Dance—The Major Goes to Salt Lake—Snowy Days on the Kaibab—At Pipe Spring—Gold Hunters to the Colorado—Visits to the Uinkaret Country—Craters and Lava—Finding the Hurricane Ledge—An Interview with a Cougar—Back to Kanab.

New-year's day, 1872, passed with nothing more eventful than the return of John Stewart in advance of the Major with the news that they had succeeded in reaching the Colorado at the foot of Kanab Canyon. They had given up the Kaibab direction because of snow which interfered with their advance. He also said that Riley had found gold at the mouth of the Kanab. The telegraph operator was so deeply impressed with this statement that it was telegraphed as an item of news to Salt Lake. Work on the base line went on daily by our topographical staff, but presently it was turned over to a special gang under Captain Dodds, so that the rest of us might be freed to carry on the triangulation. On Monday the 15th, Prof., Jones, Mac, and I started with some pack animals on a ten days' reconnaissance trip over the Kaibab, first going to Kanab for some supplies and taking dinner with Jacob at the house of his wife Louisa. According to the Mormon custom, though it was not universal, Jacob had several wives, I do not know how many. I met two, and he was besides that "sealed" to one or two Pai Ute women. Sister Louisa was the one I came to know best and she was a good woman. We had an excellent dinner with rich cream for the coffee which was an unusual treat. In all Mormon settlements the domestic animals were incorporated at once and they received special care; butter, milk, and cheese were consequently abundant; but in a "Gentile" frontier town all milk, if procurable at all, was drawn from a sealed tin. The same was true of vegetables. The empty tin was the chief decoration of such advance settlements, and with the entire absence of any attempt at arrangement, at order, or to start fruit or shade trees, or do any other sensible thing, the "Gentile" frontier town was a ghastly hodge-podge of shacks in the midst of a sea of refuse. As pioneers the Mormons were superior to any class I have ever come in contact with, their idea being home-making and not skimming the cream off the country with a six-shooter and a whiskey bottle. Jacob's home was simple but it was comfortable. He was a poor man for he did his work for the people with very slight compensation.



From Jacob's we proceeded to our old camp ground at Eight-Mile Spring and there spent the night. Prof. had forgotten his sextant and rode back to our main camp for it. We continued in the morning without him to a place farther east called Navajo Well, a deep spring in a sort of natural hole, somewhat aided by native hands, in the midst of some sloping, barren rocks, the last spot where one would look for water. A large flat stone covered the top, the water being dipped out at one side where there was a depression leading down to it. A careless man, or one not familiar with the country, might ride within a few yards of this spring without noticing its existence. Prof. came along towards night and the next day we went on eastward to the top of the Kaibab Plateau and there put up a geodetic monument. Here we made a dry camp having water for ourselves in a keg and some canteens, while the animals got along very well as there was a little snow on the ground. Proceeding from this place eastward we came to the edge of the plateau opposite the largest of a series of four or five peculiar red sandstone peaks. The Mormons had explored a waggon road across at this place and the grades were easy. We followed the road and reached House Rock Valley about ten miles north of House Rock Spring where we went to get water and camp. We had started late and by the time we got down into the valley darkness had fallen but a bright moon compensated for the absence of daylight, enabling us to see plainly our landmarks. We jogged along toward the spring and I sang Oh the Lone Starry Hours, Give Me Love, when I was suddenly interrupted by old Thunderbolt's pack loosening. Thunderbolt was a horse that waited for such an event with remarkable docility and when it arrived he made the best of the opportunity to get even with us for drawing the lash-rope so tight. Before I could dismount and lay hands on him the pack slipped back over his rump which was the signal he watched for. Joyously flinging his heels in the moonlit air, jumping high off the ground the next instant, and then darting off into the misty night with a clatter and a whirl he spread the contents of that pack to all points of the compass. This revenge adequately accomplished we were permitted to catch him. A long search was necessary before we had gathered up all the things and replaced the pack on the now meek and patient Thunderbolt, and half-past eight by the watch arrived as we got to water and supper.

We put up another "station" back of House Rock Spring and spent a day reconnoitring. On Sunday, January 21st, we went to Red Cliff and made a camp under some cedars, as we wished to put a station on the highest peak. The camp was a dry one, but we had the usual supply of water in the keg and canteens, and as the temperature was very low we did not get thirsty. There was an abundance of wood for the camp, but Mac and I concluded we wanted more warmth and light, so we set fire to two large cedars that stood alone, and they made a superb illumination, burning all night. In the morning we got to the top of the cliff, and built a monument, with a high pole and flag, to which to "sight" from other geodetic points, while Prof. took observations for time and latitude. When our work was finished we went back to House Rock Spring, arriving just before sunset. In the morning Jones and I went across and climbed the Kaibab, intending to put up a monument there, but we could find no proper site and returned to camp. Prof. and Mac had been off in another direction, but they got in just before supper-time. We had not finished this meal when, night having come on, we heard through the darkness sounds of some one approaching, and thirteen Navajos one after the other came into the light of our fire, with their greeting of "Bueno heh!" and camped just below us. Some were mounted, some were on foot. The chief was Ashtishkal, whom we had met before at the Crossing of the Fathers (El Vado). They were all friendly, and did not intrude upon us. They were on their way north to trade with the Mormons, having come across at the Paria. The night was very cold, and a heavy, dry snow began to fall, so that in the morning when we arose we could see but a short distance. The Navajos about sunrise stood silently in a circle till at a signal they all sat down and began singing, continuing for several minutes a low musical refrain, and then all rose to their feet again. They left us early, with friendly demonstrations, and went on their way towards Kanab, while we moved to another spring in a gulch farther up the valley, where we made a tent out of a pair of blankets to keep off the snow. During the stormy night our animals started to leave us, travelling before the wind, but we suspected their intention and got out and headed them back, much to their disgust, no doubt. Thursday, January 25th, came bright and clear, but still extremely cold. Prof. with Mac started across the Kaibab by the trail, while Jones and I went farther north by the waggon road referred to, camping near the station we had made on the way out. The next morning we did some work there, and then went on to the Navajo Well, reaching it at sunset, where we watered our stock and continued by moonlight through a piercing wind to Eight-Mile Spring, which enabled us to reach our main camp in time for dinner on Saturday the 27th. Prof. got back the evening before at 7.30, having made another station on the Kaibab on the way over and travelled twenty-five miles.

About a mile from Kanab the Kaibab band of Pai Utes were encamped, and we had a good opportunity to visit them and study their ways.[28] The Major was specially interested and made voluminous notes. They came to the village and our camp a great deal. While they were dirty, they were not more dishonest than white men, so far as I could learn. Their wickiups, about seven feet high, were merely a lot of cedar boughs, set around a three-quarter circle, forming a conical shelter, the opening towards the south. In front they had their fire, with a mealing-stone or two, and round about were their conical and other baskets, used for collecting grass seeds, pinon nuts, and similar vegetable food, which in addition to rabbits formed their principal subsistence. At certain times they all went to the Kaibab deer-hunting. Their guns, where they had any, were of the old muzzle-loading type, with outside hammers to fire the caps. Many still used the bow-and-arrow, and some knew how to make stone arrow-heads. We learned the process, which is not difficult. Their clothing was, to some extent, deerskin, but mainly old clothes obtained from the whites. They made a very warm robe out of rabbit skins, twisted into a long rope and then sewed side to side into the desired size and shape. But when we traded for one of these as a curiosity we placed it beside a large ant hill for some days before bringing it into camp. They obtained fire by the use of matches when they could get them, but otherwise they used the single stick or "palm" drill. We went to the camp one moonlight night, January 6th, to see a sort of New-Year's dance. They had stripped a cedar tree of all branches but a small tuft at the top, and around this the whole band formed a large circle, dancing and singing. The dancing was the usual hippity-hop or "lope" sideways, each holding hands with his or her neighbours. In the centre stood a man, seeming to be the custodian of the songs and a poet himself. He would first recite the piece, and then all would sing it, circling round at the same time. We accepted their cordial invitation to join in the ceremony, and had a lot of fun out of our efforts, which greatly amused them too, our mistakes raising shouts of laughter. The poet seemed to originate some of the songs, but they had others that were handed down. One of these, which I learned later, was:

"Montee-ree-ai-ma, mo-quontee-kai-ma Umpa-shu-shu-ra-ga-va Umpa-shu-shu-ra-ga-va Umpa-ga-va, shu-ra-ga-va Montee-ree-ai-ma."

This, being translated, signifies that a long talk is enough to bore a hole in a cliff; at least, that was the interpretation we obtained. Another popular one was:

"Ca, shakum, poo kai Ca, shakum poo kai Ca, shakum tee kai Ca, shakum tee kai,"

these lines being repeated like the others over and over and over again. They were highly philosophical, for they explain that you must kill your rabbit (shakum) before you eat him. I do not remember that they sang these particular songs on that occasion, but they will serve as examples.

On February 1st the Major left camp for Salt Lake with Mrs. Powell and the baby. Jack went along to accompany them as far as Tokerville on the Virgin River. Before leaving, the Major settled up with Beaman, who was now to separate from the party. The Major intended to go to Washington to ask Congress for another appropriation to continue the work of exploration and map-making when we had finished that already planned. On the 6th Clem and Bonnemort arrived from an expedition to make photographs down the Kanab Canyon, where the Major had been with Riley and Dodds. They had met with bad luck, and did not get a single negative. The silver bath got out of order, and the horse bearing the camera fell off a cliff and landed on top of the camera, which had been tied on the outside of the pack, with a result that need not be described. Bonnemort's time was now up; he wanted to go back to prospecting, and we reluctantly said good-bye to him. On the 16th of February, finding our central camp no longer practicable, we abandoned it and operated in small parties from various nearby points, finally returning again in three or four days to near the site of the old camp. MacEntee then wanted to go to prospecting also, and he departed. He was an interesting, companionable young man, educated at the University of Michigan, seeking a fortune, and he was desirous of striking it rich. Whether he ever did or not I have not learned.

While camped below Kanab, Clem and I in walking one day saw a place where the creek which flowed on a level with the surroundings suddenly plunged into a deep mud canyon. This canyon had been cut back from far below by the undermining action of the falling water, and it was plain to see that it would continue its retrogression till it eventually reached the mouth of the great canyon several miles above, but I did not dream that it could accomplish this work as rapidly as it actually did years after. During a great flood it washed a canyon not only to Kanab but for miles up the gorge, sweeping away at one master stroke hundreds of acres of arable land and leaving a mud chasm forty feet deep. Had the fall we examined been arranged then so that the water might glide down, the fearful washout would not have occurred. There are thousands of places in the West to-day that require treatment to conserve arable land, and in time the task may be undertaken by the Government.

Cap's health being such that he deemed it inadvisable to continue work in the field, he had severed his connection with the expedition, after finishing the preliminary map of Green River, and was temporarily settled in Kanab, where he had been for some time. On Wednesday, February 21st, Prof., Mrs. Thompson, and I took supper with him in one of the log houses at the fort, and on the 22d several of us accepted his invitation to dinner, a sort of farewell, for on the following day we started with our whole outfit for the Kaibab. We were extremely sorry to lose Cap, with his generous spirit and cheery ways, but when one has been punctured by a minie-ball he has to heed warnings. All day long we travelled through sandy hills gradually rising toward the plateau, the foot-hills of which we reached late in the afternoon. We had followed a waggon road with our pack-train up to this point, but here we struck off on a trail that was said to be a shorter way to the canyon we were aiming for, and a little before sunset we came to the brink of a steep slope, almost a cliff, where a picturesque, a romantic view opened before us. Below stretched away to the south a narrow, deep, and sharply defined valley or canyon one-eighth mile wide, the bottom of which seemed perfectly flat. A light snow which had fallen the night before whitened the sharp slopes, but from the valley bottom it had melted away, leaving a clear line of demarkation on either side and producing an extremely beautiful effect under the evening glow. Tall pine trees accented the scene, which was one of the most inviting I had ever beheld. One of our helpers from Kanab had been over the trail, and led us down to a small but excellent spring, within a quarter of a mile of which we camped, passing a most comfortable night.

Before we had finished slinging the last pack in the morning, a heavy grey sky began to sift down thickly falling snowflakes gently as if not wishing to give alarm. But when we were fairly under way this mildness vanished, and the storm smote our caravan with fierce and blinding gusts, amidst which progress was difficult. After four miles up the valley through beautiful pine trees of great height, we came to a deserted log cabin only half roofed over, and there we stopped to make our temporary headquarters. The Stewarts of Kanab had started a saw-mill at this place, but as yet the work had not gone very far. The snow ceased by the time we had thrown off the packs, and we made ourselves as comfortable as circumstances permitted. Prof. had a tent put up for Mrs. Thompson, while some took possession of the half-roofed house, for by keeping on the side where the board cover was they were slightly sheltered. With two or three of the others I pitched a small tent. There was plenty of fat pine, and rousing fires made the valley seem habitable. A fine little brook swept full grown fifteen inches in diameter from under a cliff two hundred feet above the valley bottom, and there was no lack of good water. Our trouble was with the horses and mules, for we had no grain for them, and if the snow got very deep they would not be able to paw down to the bunch grass. The snow soon began again, and all night it fell with aggravating facility. Sunday morning opened as leaden and dark as a February day could be, and there was no cessation of the showers of whiteness that were rapidly building up on the ground a formidable barrier to our operations. As I was wearing rather low brogans, having discarded top-boots as too close-fitting and uncomfortable around camp, I now made for myself a pair of leggins out of pieces of a common but heavy seamless sack. When these were buttoned in place they answered perfectly to protect my legs from the snow. We hoped Monday would begin the week with a clear sky, but we were disappointed. We had to sally out to hunt horses, hoping at the same time to come across a deer, but that hope was not realised. As I got far from camp in the midst of the tall pines and the unbroken snow sheet, I suddenly became aware of a whispering sound, which I could not at first account for, as I did not believe in fairies. Standing perfectly still, I perceived that it was produced by the friction of the snowflakes upon the pine needles. It was a weird, ghost-like language which I had never listened to before.

Prof. went up one thousand feet on the mountain and climbed a tree 125 feet high with a determination to see something in spite of the snow. He caught a glimpse of the south wall of the Grand Canyon near Mt. Trumbull, miles to the west. On Tuesday he started George Adair, one of our Mormon assistants, back to Kanab for more rations, and directed Jones and Captain Dodds to get ready to start the next day for the south-east corner of the plateau, while Andy and I were to go to the south-west corner. Wednesday, February 28th, came clear, with the snow lying twelve inches on the level, but some of the horses were missing, and the day was spent in hunting this wayward stock, so it was not till Thursday afternoon that we got started. Our paths lying for a distance in the same direction, we four travelled together along a divide on the right or west of camp. It was slow work in the deep drifts, and we had not made many miles when night came on. We went into camp where we were. The horses bothered us by trying to go back searching for grass, and nobody could blame them. Finally we tied the worst offender to a tree in a bare place where he might pick up a few mouthfuls of food, and we managed to sleep the rest of the night. The only sound I heard when I woke up at one time was the satirical voice of an owl in the far distance. It seemed to be saying very deliberately "poo-poo, poo-poo," and that did not sound respectful. The next morning was March 1st, and it brought a fine sky, which would have put us quickly on the way, or rather in motion toward our respective goals, as there was no road or trail, but one of our animals which bore the mysterious name of Yawger, and which was the pack-horse of Andy and me, could not be found. Jones and Dodds went on, as they would probably soon have to separate from us anyhow, while we took Yawger's track, and at last found him browsing happily in a bare spot about a mile from our stopping place. It was two o'clock by the time we started on, floundering through the drifts in the trail of Jones and Dodds. Some drifts were so high it was all we could do to wallow through them even after the others had in a measure broken the way. After two hours of hard work in this line we came to the edge of a wide gully, where the advance party had halted. The slope was towards the south and the ground was somewhat bare, with good bunch grass, where the other horses were feeding, while Jones and Dodds were just descending from a tall pine tree. They declared nothing but snow could be seen in all directions on the mountain and they were going back. Besides it was impossible, they told me, to cross the gulch ahead. I did not want to turn back till I was compelled to, and I appealed to Andy as to whether or not he wanted to give up, not wishing to drag him along unwillingly. With his characteristic nonchalance he said, "Go ahead if you want to." Dodds had one of his own horses with him, and he said he would bet me that horse I could not cross the gulch. I made a trial, wading ahead of my horse, the pack animal following and Andy driving from behind. When I got into the middle it was all I could do to move, but I continued my efforts till suddenly the bottom seemed to rise, and then in a few yards the going grew easier and we emerged triumphantly on the other side, where we waved an adieu to the others. By keeping close to the boles of the large pine trees, where the wind had swept circular places, leaving the snow shallow, we were soon out of sight of our late companions.

After two or three miles of tiring work the day began to fade, but we reached a beautiful south slope where there was little snow, with a rich crop of bunch grass just starting green under the vernal influence that was a feast for the famished horses, the snow relieving their thirst. While Andy the ever-faithful got supper I reconnoitred and made up my mind that I could reach the locality I was trying for, by following a ridge I saw ahead where the snow seemed moderate. We were up and off early. The snow was deep but we got on quite rapidly and finally reached the ridge, crossing two big gulches to get to it. At eleven o'clock we were at the end of its summit and I could see a wide area to the west and north. The point appeared to be one of several similar projections though the one we were on was the most prominent. I selected a spot for a monument where we dug a hole in the rocks and dirt, and then cutting a tall slim pine and trimming it clean we hitched Yawger to it and made him drag it to the hole, where by a combination of science and strength we got it upright. While Andy, who had great strength, lifted and pushed after we had together got it half way, I propped it with a strong pole with a Y on the end, and in a few moments we saw the flag waving triumphantly from its tip at least thirty feet above our heads. Around its base we piled the rocks, which were exceptionally heavy, waist high, first cutting a notch in the pine and placing therein a can containing a record, and our "Point F" was finished. The rest of the day I spent in triangulating to various other stations, and we went to bed under a clear sky and a milder atmosphere. In the morning I completed my triangulating work and by that time the snow had settled and melted so that the back track was much easier than the outward march, enabling us to get to headquarters at the spring before dark. I had been a little afraid that a heavy snow would come on top of the large drifts which would have held us prisoners for a day or two.

On Wednesday, March 6th, the whole party packed up and left the valley by its narrow canyon outlet, a tributary of the Kanab Canyon. It began eight hundred feet deep and continually increased. We called it Shinumo Canyon because we found everywhere indications of the former presence of that tribe. Snow fell at intervals and we were alternately frozen and melted till we reached an altitude where the warmth was continuous and the snow became rain. Grass fresh and green and shrubs with the feeling of early spring surrounded us at the junction with Kanab Canyon where the walls were twelve hundred feet high. A mile below we camped by a lone cedar tree where there were "pockets" of rain-water in the rocks. The next day our course was laid up Kanab Canyon through thick willows that pulled the packs loose. One horse fell upside down in a gully, but he was not hurt and we pried him out and went on, camping near a large pool of intensely alkaline water. On the 8th going up a branch on the left called Pipe Spring Wash we came out on the surface, very much as one might reach a second floor by a staircase. This is a feature of the country and as one goes northward he arrives on successive platforms, in this manner passing through the several cliff ranges by means of transverse gorges that usually begin in small "box" canyons and rapidly deepen till they reach the full height of the cliff walls. At two o'clock we came to Pipe Spring. A vacant stone house of one very large room and a great fireplace was put at our disposal by Mr. Winsor the proprietor, and it was occupied by the men while Prof. had a tent put up for Mrs. Thompson. We found a party of miners here who had heard of the gold discovery at the mouth of the Kanab on the Colorado and were heading that way to reap the first-fruits. They were soon followed by hundreds more, making a steady stream down the narrow Kanab and out again for some time, for on reaching the river the limited opportunity to do any mining was at once apparent and they immediately took the back track swearing vengeance on the originator of the story.

For protection against raiders Mr. Winsor was building a solid double house of blocks of sandstone, making walls three feet thick. The two buildings were placed about twenty feet apart, thus forming an interior court the length of the houses, protected at the ends by high walls and heavy gates. No windows opened on the exterior, but there were plenty of loopholes commanding every approach. A fine large spring was conducted subterraneously into the corner of one of the buildings and out again, insuring plenty of water in case of a siege. Brigham Young was part owner of this establishment, and it was one of the most effective places of defence on a small scale, that I have ever seen. It was never needed so far as I have heard, and even at the time I marvelled that it should be so elaborately prepared—far beyond anything else in the whole country. The cut opposite shows this fort as it was in 1903. Clem here told Prof. he did not care to stay with us any longer. Ill success with his photographs had discouraged him, but Prof. persuaded him to remain for a time.

Until March 21st we operated around Pipe Spring triangulating and recording the topography, and other data, when we packed our animals again and laid our course across the open country towards a range of blue mountains seen in the south-west. One of these had been named after Senator Trumbull by the Major in the autumn of 1870. They were the home of the Uinkarets and we called the whole group by that name, discarding North Side Mountains, the name Ives had given when he sighted them in 1858 from far to the south. Adjoining the Uinkaret region on the west was the Shewits territory where the Howlands and Dunn were killed. Travelling across the dry plains we came to a well defined trail about sunset and followed it hoping that it would lead to water. We were not disappointed for it took us to a pool of rain-water in a little gulley at the foot of some low hills. A band of wild horses roamed the plain and as we had been told about a pool called the Wild Band Pocket, we had no doubt this was the place. There was no wood anywhere, but a diligent search produced enough small brush to cook by, though Andy had a hard time of it. Clem's horse ran away from him and lost his gun, so he remained behind at Pipe Spring to hunt for the weapon.



The next day we travelled on over hilly country, following a moccasin trail, with here and there cedar groves as we approached nearer to the mountains. On the edge of night traces of water were found in a gulch near the foot of Trumbull, and while Jack and a new member of our force, Will Johnson of Kanab, dug for more, Prof., Jones, and I scoured the vicinity in search of a spring or pocket, but though we found many old wickiups there was no water. The Uinkarets had evidently camped here in wet weather. When we returned we were told that the little trace of water in the gulch had disappeared completely after the digging, a sad development which was accepted by all but one old white horse which stood on the edge of the hole for an hour or more patiently waiting. Our kegs and canteens provided enough to make bread which we ate with sorghum, and as early as possible in the morning we pushed on without breakfast, three men scouting ahead to discover the pool where the Major in the autumn of 1870 had camped. Prof. finally found it, a large pool of about a hundred barrels of clear, clean water, in a lava gulch, surrounded by cedar and pinon trees. Andy then gave us breakfast and dinner at the same time, eleven o'clock. Another new member of our party was Beaman's successor, Fennemore, from Salt Lake, who had joined us at Pipe Spring on March 19th, and he was prepared to photograph the region. We reconnoitred the neighbourhood during the afternoon, and the next morning Jones and I rode in one direction around Mount Trumbull, while Prof. and Captain Dodds rode the other way, to ascertain the lay of the land, and especially to find a ranch which some St. George men had started in this locality. Jones and I met Whitmore, the proprietor of the ranch, and a friend of his, who informed us the ranch was six miles farther on. We concluded not to go to it, but when Prof. and Captain Dodds got in after dark they told us they had gone the whole way. The following day, Monday March 25th, all the party except Andy and a new member, Alf Young of Kanab, climbed to the summit of Mount Trumbull, finding the ascent very gradual and easy and taking the horses to the top, which was 2440 feet above the pool and 8650 above sea level, commanding a magnificent view in every direction, as far to the south-east as Mount San Francisco. Jones, Jack, Fennemore, and I remained there all night while the rest returned to camp. Jones and I wanted to do some topographical work and get sights to some of our other stations, and Fennemore, assisted by Jack, wanted pictures.

Descending the opposite side the next day we went to a spring in an oak grove which Prof. had seen, where the others were already encamped. On the 27th, Prof. and I climbed a high cinder peak, of which there were many, to get a view, and then went to Whitmore's Ranch, where we had a talk with him to get points on the region. He told us he had followed a trail to the Colorado, about twelve miles, to what he called the Ute Crossing. If I remember correctly he had taken a horse down at that point. The next day Johnson and I put a signal flag on one of the high mountains, afterwards named Logan, forming Signal Station Number 7. This was a volcanic district and there were many old craters. Near the Oak Spring camp was an extensive sheet of lava, seeming to have cooled but a year or two before. Its surface was all fractured, but there were no trees on its lower extremity and where it had flowed around a hill its recent plasticity was exceedingly distinct. It had come from a crater, about five hundred feet high, two miles north. This had once been a cone but it was now disrupted, the lava having burst through to the north and to the south, leaving two sections standing, the stream to the south being one quarter mile wide and a mile and a half long, that on the north one mile wide and about the same in length. The depth of these streams was not far from thirty feet, and in spite of the exceedingly rugged surface the southern stream was marked by deeply worn trails running to and from a small spring situated in the middle of it. Beside this spring one of the men from the ranch had found a human skeleton, covered with fragments of lava, with the decayed remains of a wicker water-jug between the ribs, marking some unrecorded tragedy. We estimated that less than three hundred years had passed since the last outburst from the crater. As there were pine trees a hundred years old on the lava where it was more disintegrated near the point of outpour, the age of the flow could not have been less than that.

Friday the 29th being cloudy and stormy nothing in the line of geodetic work was done and we could only rest in camp. Dodds and Jones who had gone to explore a way to the Grand Canyon came in reporting success. Saturday morning Jones and Fennemore started for Kanab to bring out more rations and meet us either at Fort Pierce or at Berry's Spring near St. George, while Prof. with Dodds and Johnson went to try to follow the trail Whitmore had told about to the river, but after four miles they gave it up and climbed by a side trail to the plateau again. They made a dry camp and the next day went on till they found water enough for the horses in some pools on the rocks, and here, leaving the others to continue the reconnaissance, Prof. came back to our camp, arriving in a snow-storm. It had been snowing with us at intervals all day. The next day was April first, and with it came still heavier snow. We planned to move down to the edge of the Grand Canyon, and Jack and Andy started as Jack wished to make some photographs there, but the snow continuing we concluded to wait till another day. When that came the snow was quite deep on the ground and was still falling hard, which it continued to do most of the time, preventing us from moving. Fennemore had brought with him a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, which I had never read, and in its pages I soon became oblivious to the surroundings. The snow kept on the next day also and all the men out returned to the main camp, Dodds and Johnson having reached the river bank. When another morning dawned and showed no cessation of the aggravating storm, with the snow fifteen inches on the level, Prof. said he would pack up Friday the 5th and get down to lower country around St. George. The day came clear and sunny and the snow began to melt. We headed for the Pine Valley Mountains back of St. George and made about twenty miles with no snow after the first six, the altitude dropping to where the temperature was milder. Prof. had inquired at the ranch about trails, but there were so many cattle trails that we did not get on the right one. We made a dry camp and early the following morning went on, not being able to see any landmarks because of the clouds. Half an hour after starting a thick snow-storm set in but we kept going, till in about a mile and a half the world seemed suddenly to end. Above, below, and around us was a great blank whiteness. Dismounting and cautiously advancing on foot we discovered that we were on the brink of a very high cliff. As we did not know which way to turn we threw off the packs and stopped where we were. Spreading out blankets we scraped the snow from them into the kettles to melt for water. Then by holding a blanket up over Andy by the four corners he was able, with some chips he had previously chopped out of the side of a dead pine, to start a fire, by which he proceeded to cook dinner.

When the snow fell less heavily we could peer down and then saw that the cliff was continuous in both directions. By half-past two, with our kegs and canteens filled with the snow water, we were again on the way following along to find a place to go down, but we saw none that seemed practicable, and at last, having made altogether five miles, we halted for the night in a grove of cedars, where we had a good fire and were comfortable though our rations were now growing scarce. Snow at intervals continued all day up to bedtime. The next day was Sunday. We travelled twenty miles along the line of cliffs and camped near a canyon in which we found pools of good water. We saw an antelope during the day but could not get it. Andy baked up the last of our flour for supper and put on a pot of beans and one of dried peaches to cook for breakfast. The beans were edible in the morning and we disposed of them and the peaches and went on our way. After a day of many ups and downs we arrived about two o'clock at a ranch called Gould's or Workman's, where we bought five dollars worth of corn-meal and milk. We were now on what the inhabitants of the region called Hurricane Hill, and from this we applied the name Hurricane Ledge to the long line of sharp cliffs we had followed, which begin at the Virgin River and extend, almost unbroken and eight hundred to a thousand feet high, south to the Grand Canyon, forming the western boundary of the Uinkaret Plateau. From Gould's we had a waggon road and following it we were led to the brink of the Hurricane Ledge, where a road had been constructed to the bottom. Before descending we took a final look at the enchanting view opening away to the north and north-west. At our feet was the Virgin Valley with the green fields of Tokerville, while beyond rose magnificent cliffs culminating to the north-west in the giant buttes and precipices of the Mookoontoweap, or, as the Mormons call it, Little Zion Valley. Topping the whole sweep of magnificent kaleidoscopic topography were the Pine Valley Mountains and the lofty cliffs of the Colob and Markargunt plateaus. It has ever since been my opinion that few outlooks in all the world are superior for colour and form to that stretching north from the northern part of the Hurricane Ledge.[29]

Descending to the valley we arrived just at dusk at Berry's Spring, where our waggon under the direction of Jones had come with supplies. The spring was an excellent one and the rivulet flowing away from it was bordered with large wild-rose bushes. Though the waggon and supplies were there Jones was not, for we had expected to come in from farther west past Fort Pierce, and he had gone on to that place to tell us where he had decided to camp. Clem had found his gun and come out with them, the others of the party being Fennemore and George Adair. Jones came back the next day and prepared to start with Andy and Johnson for several days' work in the Pine Valley Mountains, while Jack, Captain Dodds, Fennemore, and I were to return to the Uinkaret region to complete certain work there. Some goods to be distributed to the natives from the Indian Bureau arrived at St. George and Prof. went there with George Adair to have a talk with the Indians to be found, and distribute goods. We had seen no Indians at all in the Uinkaret region. He discovered the Shewits who came in to be afraid of us, thinking we wanted to kill them, but they were willing to accept anything they could get in the line of presents. Hardly any would acknowledge themselves to be either Uinkarets or Shewits.

On April 12th, according to the plan, Jack, Dodds, Fennemore, and I started back to the Uinkaret Mountains, following the trail we had tried to strike coming out. It led past a place called Fort Pierce, a small stone building the settlers had formerly used as an advance post against the Shewits and Uinkarets. There we spent the night, and the next day after some trouble we got on the right trail, and on Monday, the 15th of April, we again reached what we had called Oak Spring, near Mount Trumbull, and the southern flow of lava already described. The following day Jack and Fennemore went down to the brink of the Grand Canyon, at the foot of a sort of valley the Uinkarets called Toroweap, while with Dodds I climbed the peak later named after Senator Logan, and attempted some triangulation, but the air was so murky I could not get my sights and had to return for them the next morning. The day after that we climbed Mount Trumbull, and I triangulated from there. One of my sights from Logan was to a conical butte near which we had camped as we came out, and near which we had found a large ant-hill covered with small, perfect quartz crystals that sparkled in the sun like diamonds. When I sighted to this butte, for want of a better name, I recorded it temporarily as Diamond Butte, remembering the crystals, and the name became fixed, which shows how unintentionally names are sometimes bestowed. We examined the lava flows and the crater again, and I made a sketch in pencil from another point of view from one I had made during our former sojourn. Then we joined Jack and Fennemore, who had been taking negatives at the canyon edge. On the 20th Dodds and I climbed down the cliffs about three thousand feet to the water at a rapid called Lava Falls. Across the river we could see a very large spring, but of course we could not get over to it. Returning to Oak Spring, we spent there another night, and in the morning, while the others started for headquarters, I rode around to the ranch to inquire about a spring I had heard something about existing on the St. George trail; but the solitary man I found there, who came out of the woods in response to my shout, a walking arsenal, did not know anything concerning it. After drinking a quart or two of milk, which he kindly offered me, I rode on to join my companions by continuing around the mountain, "running in" the trail as I went with a prismatic compass. Presently I saw a cougar sitting upright behind a big log, calmly staring at me, so I dismounted and sent a Winchester bullet in his direction. My mule was highly nervous about firearms, and having to restrain her antics by putting my arm through the bridle rein, her snorting skittishness both at the rifle and the cougar disturbed my aim and my shot went a trifle under. The bullet seemed to clip the log, but if it hit the cougar the effect was not what I expected, for with a rush like a sky-rocket the animal disappeared in the top of the pine tree overhead, and I could see nothing more of it though I rode about looking for it. Not wishing to dally here, I spurred on to overtake my party, but in trying a short cut I passed beyond them, as they had by that time halted in some cedars for lunch. The man at the ranch had told me that Whitmore was due to arrive that day, and having missed a part of the trail by the short cut, I could not judge by the tracks as to where my party were, and not caring to waste time, I rode on and on till I had gone so far I did not want to turn back. Evening came, but there was a good moon, and I did not stop till eight o'clock. The night was cold; the plain was barren and bleak. I had no coat, but with the saddle blanket and a handful of dead brush, which I burned by installments, I managed to warm myself enough to sleep by short intervals. I was on my feet with the dawn, but my mule was nowhere to be seen, though I had hoppled her well with my bridle reins. I tracked the mule about five miles to a muddy place where there had been water, caught her, and rode back to my saddle, when I continued my journey, running in the trail as I went. I became pretty thirsty and hungry, but the only thing for me to do was to continue to our main camp. Had I gone back I might have missed our men again, for there had been some talk about a short-cut trail, and I feared they might try it. At two o'clock I reached Black Rock Canyon, where there was a water-pocket full of warm and dirty water, but both the mule and I took a drink and I rode on, passing Fort Pierce at sunset. Off on my right I perceived ten or twelve Shewits Indians on foot travelling rapidly along in Indian file, and as the darkness fell and I had to go through some wooded gulches I confess I was a little uncomfortable and kept my rifle in readiness; but I was not molested and reached camp about ten o'clock, where I ate a large piece of bread with molasses, after a good drink of water, and went to bed. The others arrived the following afternoon. I had left notes for them by the trail in cleft-sticks, so they knew that I was ahead. This was the longest trip I ever made without water or food.

We prepared to start out again in different directions; one party was to go to the Pine Valley Mountains, another to Pipe Spring and the mouth of the Paria to look after our property there, a third up the Virgin Valley for photographs, and a fourth to St. George and the Virgin range of mountains south-west of that town. Prof. headed this last party, and he took me as his topographical assistant. April 27th we rode into St. George, a town I was much interested to see. I found a very pretty, neat, well-ordered little city of about fifteen hundred population, with a good schoolhouse, a stone tabernacle with a spire, and a court house, the water running in ditches along the streets for irrigating purposes as well as for drinking. About a mile below the town we camped, and we could hear the band playing a serenade to one of the officials who was to start the next day on a long journey. After several days of feeling our way about in the rugged and dry region below St. George, we finally discovered a good water-pocket, from which Prof. and I made a long, hard ride and climb, and about sunset camped at the base of what is now called Mount Bangs, the highest peak of the Virgin Mountains, for which we were aiming. The next day we climbed an additional eleven hundred feet to its summit, and completed our work in time by swift riding to get to our main camp at the water-pocket by half-past six.

It was an easy trip back to St. George, following an old trail, and then we made our way to Kanab again, where we put all our notes in shape and fitted out for the journey to the mouth of the Dirty Devil across the unknown country.



FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 28: For the linguistic classification of stocks and tribes of the United States, see Appendix, The North Americans of Yesterday, by F. S. Dellenbaugh.]

[Footnote 29: For a description of Little Zion Valley, see "A New Valley of Wonders," by F. S. Dellenbaugh, Scribner's Magazine, January, 1904.]



CHAPTER XIII

Off for the unknown Country—A lonely Grave—Climbing a Hog-back to a green grassy Valley—Surprising a Ute Camp—Towich-a-tick-a-boo—Following a Blind Trail—The Unknown Mountains Become Known—Down a deep Canyon—To the Paria with the Canonita—John D. Lee and Lonely Dell.

Andy and Captain Dodds, who had gone to the mouth of the Paria to ascertain the condition of our boats, returned May 15th, reporting the boats all right, but the caches we had left torn up by wolves and prospectors. The latter had stolen oars and other things, and gone down on a raft to be wrecked at the first rapid in Marble Canyon, where they just escaped with their lives. A settler had established himself there a short time before, the notorious John D. Lee, who was reputed to have led the massacre of the unfortunate Missourians at Mountain Meadows in 1857, and who had eluded capture all these years. He had been "cut off," nominally at least, from the Mormon Church, and had lived in the most out-of-the-way places, constantly on his guard. Our men took all our ropes and remaining materials from the caches to his cabin, where they would be safe till our arrival. We prepared for the trip eastward across the unknown country to the mouth of the Dirty Devil River, and by the 22d of May I had completed the preliminary map of the region to westward which we had just reconnoitred. Mrs. Thompson was to stay in Kanab, for Prof. decided that it would not be advisable for her to accompany him on this journey, although she was the most cheerful and resolute explorer of the whole company. A large tent was erected for her in the corner of Jacob's garden, and she was to take her meals with Sister Louisa, whose house stood close by. With Fuzz, a most intelligent dog, for a companion in her tent and the genial Sister Louisa for a near neighbour she was satisfactorily settled. Fuzz had the peculiarity of sympathising with the Navajos in their contempt for the Pai Utes. The latter roused his ire on the instant, but when a Navajo came up, with his confident step, Fuzz would lie still, with merely a roll of the eye to signify that he was on guard.

Saturday, May 25th, our caravan of riders, pack animals, and a waggon moved slowly toward Eight-Mile Spring, the first stop in prospect. I rode a brisk little horse which had received the lofty name of Aaron. When we reached Eight-Mile Spring about noon there was barely enough water for our animals and for cooking dinner, which compelled our going elsewhere to put on the finishing touches to our outfit before cutting loose from the settlements, and Prof. directed the caravan to continue to Johnson, farther east and up one of the canyons of the Vermilion Cliffs. He returned to Kanab to make some final arrangements there, while we kept on to Johnson, passing the little settlement of two or three houses, and making a camp two miles above, where the canyon bottom was wide and level. Here we went over everything to be sure that all was in good order and nothing left behind. The animals were reshod where necessary, which operation kept Andy and Dodds busy all of Sunday, the 26th. By thus making a start and proceeding a few miles all defects and neglects become apparent before it is too late to remedy them. On Monday Jack went back to Kanab with the waggon, returning toward night with George Adair. Fennemore had started with them, but he had turned back after something forgotten, and they did not know whether or not he had come on. In the morning George went off to look for him, and met him down at the settlement. He had followed on the day before, but instead of turning up the Johnson road, according to instructions, he had gone ahead on the road towards the Paria settlement. Finally concluding that he was wrong he had tried to correct his mistake by moonlight, but after a while gave it up, tied his mule, unsaddled, to a cedar, and claimed the protection of another for himself. During the night the mule chewed the bridle in two and departed for Kanab, leaving Fennemore, when daylight came, to walk some eight miles under a hot sun without water or breakfast to Johnson. He was considerably used up by this episode, and put in the remainder of the day in recuperating. The evenings were wonderfully beautiful, and looking from a height the scene was exceptionally picturesque, with the red rocks, the warm sky, the camp equipage, and the air so still that the smoke of the camp-fires rose slender and unbroken till lost in the zenith.

Early Wednesday morning Prof. rode up on his powerful buckskin-coloured horse, and with Johnson and me went over to our Point B some miles away for some bearings, while Fennemore rode in search of his abandoned saddle. By night there was nothing to interfere with our making the final start, which we did May 30th, proceeding up the canyon without Mormon, one of our strongest horses, which by an accident had been injured so badly that he had to be left behind at Johnson. He was a fractious, unruly beast, but with so great vitality that we were sorry not to have his services. He died a week or two later. Towards night we passed another very small settlement called Clarkston, and camped near it, the last houses we would see for some time. Several Pai Utes hung around, and Prof. engaged one called Tom to accompany us as interpreter and, so far as he might know the country, as guide.

The next day, after sixteen miles north-easterly up canyons, we entered about three o'clock an exceedingly beautiful little valley, with a fine spring and a small lake or pond at the lower end. George Adair instantly declared that he meant to come back here to live, and after dinner when we reconnoitred the place he staked out his claim. All the next morning, June 1st, our way led over rolling meadows covered with fine grass, but about noon this ended and we entered the broken country of the upper Paria, with gullies and gulches barren and dry the rest of the day, except two, in which we crossed small branches of the Paria. In one of the dry gulches we passed a grave, marked by a sandstone slab with E. A. cut on it, which the wolves had dug out, leaving the human bones scattered all around. We could not stop to reinter them. They were the remains of Elijah Averett, a young Mormon, who was killed while pursuing Pai Utes in 1866. Just before sunset we arrived at the banks of the Paria, where we made camp, with plenty of wood, water, and grass. Captain Dodds during the afternoon recognised a place he had been in when hunting a way the autumn before, and we followed his old trail for a time. Leaving the Paria the following day where it branches, we followed the east fork to its head, twelve miles, climbing rapidly through a narrow valley. We could plainly see on the left a high, flat, cliff-bounded summit, which was called Table Mountain, and early in the afternoon we reached a series of "hog-backs," and up one of which the old Indian trail we were now following took its precarious way. The hog-backs were narrow ridges of half-disintegrated clay-shale, with sides like the roof of a house, the trail following the sharp summit-line. Before we had fairly begun this very steep, slippery, and narrow climb, the thunder boomed and the heavens threw down upon us fierce torrents of rain, soaking everything and chilling us through and through, while making the trail like wet soap. Part way up, at one of the worst places, a pack came loose, and, slipping back, hung on the rump of the horse. There was no room for bucking it off, and there was no trouble so far as the beast of burden was concerned, for he realised fully his own danger. Two of us managed to climb along past the other animals to where he meekly stood waiting on the narrow ridge, with a descent on each side of eight hundred or nine hundred feet, and set things in order once more, when the cavalcade continued the ascent, the total amount of which was some twelve hundred feet.

Arriving at the top we found ourselves almost immediately on the edge of a delightful little valley, mossy and green with a fresh June dress, down which we proceeded two or three miles to a spring where Dodds and Jacob had made a cache of some flour the year before. The flour had disappeared. We made a camp and dried out our clothes, blankets, etc., by means of large fires. Though it was summer the air was decidedly chilly, for we were at an altitude of nearly 6000 feet. Our interpreter that was to be did not enjoy the situation and I think he dreaded meeting with the stranger Indians we might encounter. He declared he was "heap sick," and begged to be allowed to return, so Prof. gave him several days' rations and we saw him no more. There was a pretty creek in this valley flowing eastward, which Dodds said was the head of the Dirty Devil, the same stream he had followed down the year before in the attempt to find a way to bring us rations. The weather was very bad but we kept on down Potato Valley as it had been named, crossing three or four swift tributaries. About four o'clock we stopped beside a raging torrent and went into camp to reconnoitre. There were signs of some one having been here about a month before, and as the animals were shod we judged it was some prospector. The next day was so wet and Prof. was feeling so sick that we kept our camp, having made tents out of paulins and pack-covers, which gave me a chance to plot up the trail from Kanab to this point, one hundred and three miles. Instead of crossing the torrent the following day, June 5th, we went over the chief stream before the union and travelled down the right-hand side till we arrived within half a mile of the place where the river canyoned and received a tributary from the left. It cut into the rocks very abruptly and being high we could not enter the canyon as Dodds had done. While the party camped here, Prof. and Dodds rode away to the south on a dim trail to find out what move to make; how far we might be able to go down the Dirty Devil the next day. When they got back they reported finding a canyon twelve miles farther on, with many water-pockets, and concluded to go there. We arrived about noon Thursday, June 6th, making camp. Prof. and Dodds then climbed to where they could get a wide view, and Dodds pointed out the locality he had before reached when he thought himself so near the mouth of the Dirty Devil. No sooner had he done so than Prof. perceived at once that we were not on the river we thought we were on, for by this explanation he saw that the stream we were trying to descend flowed into the Colorado far to the south-west of the Unknown Mountains, whereas he knew positively that the Dirty Devil came in on the north-east. Then the question was, "What river is this?" for we had not noted a tributary of any size between the Dirty Devil and the San Juan. It was a new river whose identity had not been fathomed. This discovery put a different complexion on everything. The problem was more complicated than Dodds had imagined when he was trying to reach the mouth the year before.

Prof. declared it was impossible to proceed farther in this direction towards our goal. The canyon of the river was narrow, and with the stream swimming high it was out of the question as a path for us now, and even had we been able to go down far enough to get out on the other side, the region intervening between it and the distant mountains was a heterogeneous conglomeration of unknown mesas and canyons that appeared impassable. He concluded the only thing to do was to go north to the summit of the Wasatch cliffs and keep along the high land north-east to an angle where these slopes vanished to the north. From that point we might be able to cross to the Dirty Devil or Unknown Mountains. Once at these mountains we felt certain of finding a way to our former camp-ground at the mouth of the Dirty Devil River. We retraced our path to the foot of Potato Valley, and there Jones, Clem, and George Adair were sent out to Kanab for additional rations, it being plain that we were in for a longer effort than had been contemplated. They were to be here again in twelve days to meet Prof. with his party, on the return from starting down the Canonita with a crew selected from the seven remaining men. This seven, which included Prof., were now to strike up a branch creek and reach the upper slopes of what he later called the Aquarius Plateau, and along its verdant slopes continue our effort to reach the Unknown Mountains. The two parties separated on Saturday, June 8th, our contingent travelling about eighteen miles nearly due north, till just at sunset we entered a high valley in which flowed two splendid creeks. There we camped with an abundance of everything needed to make a comfortable rest for man and beast. In such travel as this the beast is almost the first consideration, for without him movement is slow and difficult and distance limited. We had gone up in altitude a great deal, 1800 or 2000 feet, and the next day, which was Sunday, we continued this upward course, seeing signs of deer and elk with an occasional sight of a fat "pine hen" winging its heavy flight from tree to tree. The pines were very tall and thick, interspersed with fir and balsam as well as with the usual accompaniment of high altitude in the West, the aspen. Our aneroids indicated 10,000 feet above sea-level, and we could look down upon the vast canyoned desert to the south as on a map. Descending into a deep canyon where a clear torrent was foaming down at the rate of five hundred feet to the mile, we went up a branch and finally passing over a sudden crest discovered before us a very beautiful lake of an extent of some two hundred acres. It was now late, and though we had come only ten miles we went into camp for the night. There were several smaller lagoons nearby and we named the group the Aspen Lakes. Around them in the dense groves huge snowbanks still lingered from the heart of winter. A prettier mountain region than this could not be imagined, while the magnificent outlook to the south and east across the broken country was a bewildering sight, especially as the night enveloped it, deepening the mystery of its entangled gorges and cliffs. From every point we could see the Navajo Mountain and at least we knew what there was at the foot of its majestic northern slope. I climbed far above camp and crossing over a promontory looked down upon the nebulous region to the eastward that we were to fathom, and it seemed to me one of the most interesting sights I had ever beheld. The night was so cold that ice formed in our kettles, for our altitude in feet above sea was in the ten thousand still.