We were soon seated
at a long table with a lot of others as hungry as we, partaking of a
well-cooked and substantial meal. We made arrangements to take a few
meals here, as we wished to overhaul our outfits before resuming our
journey.
The meal ended, we inquired for the post-office, and were directed to
a ranch building across the Paria River, a small stream which entered
from the north, not unlike the Fremont River in size and appearance.
Picking our way in the darkness, on boulders and planks which served
as a crossing, we soon reached the building, set back from the river
in the centre of the ranch. A man named Johnson, with his family, had
charge of the ranch and post-office as well. Mail is brought by
carrier from the south, a cross-country trip of 160 miles, through the
Hopi and Navajo Indian Reservations.
Johnson informed us that an old-time friend named Dave Rust had waited
here three or four days, hoping to see us arrive, but business matters
had forced him to leave just the day before. We were very sorry to
have missed him. Rust lived in the little Mormon town of Kanab, Utah,
eighty miles north of the Grand Canyon opposite our home. In addition
to being a cattle man and rancher, he had superintended the
construction of a cable crossing, or tramway, over the Colorado River,
beside the mouth of Bright Angel Creek, not many miles from our home.
He also maintains a cozy camp at this place, for the accommodation of
tourists and hunting parties, which he conducts up Bright Angel Creek
and into the Kaibab Forest.
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