Directly below us was the Colorado River, muddy,
swirllng, and forbidding. A mile away boomed a rapid, beyond that was
another, then the river was lost to view.
Standing on the brink of all this desolation, it is small wonder if we
recalled the accounts of the disasters which had overtaken so many
others in the canyon below us. Many who had escaped the water had
climbed out on to this death trap, as it had proven to be for them,
some to perish of thirst and starvation, a few to stagger into the
ranch below the canyon, a week or more after they had escaped from the
water. Small wonder that some of these had lost their reason. We could
only conjecture at the fate of the party whose wrecked boat had been
found by the Stone expedition, a few miles below this place, with
their tracks still fresh in the sand. No trace of them was ever found.
For the first time it began to dawn on us that we might have tackled a
job beyond our power to complete. Most of the parties which had safely
completed the trip were composed of several men, adding much to the
safety of the expedition, as a whole. Others had boats much lighter
than ours, a great help in many respects. Speaking for myself, I was
just a little faint-hearted, and not a little overawed as we prepared
to return to the boats.
While returning, we saw evidences of ancient Indians--some broken
arrow-heads, and pottery also, and a small cliff ruin under a shelving
rock.
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