The upper walls were similar
in tint to those in Marble Canyon, but here at the river was a new
formation; the algonkian, composed of thousands of brilliantly
coloured bands of rock, standing at an angle--the one irregularity to
the uniform layers of rock--a remnant of thousands of feet of rock
which once covered this region, then was planed away before the other
deposits were placed. All about us, close to the river, was a deep,
soft sand formed by the disintegration of the rocks above, as
brilliantly coloured as the rocks from which they came. What had been
a very narrow stream above here spread out over a thousand feet wide,
ran with a good current, and seemed to be anything but a shallow
stream at that.
We had travelled far that day but still sped on,--with a few rapids
which did not retard, but rather helped us on our way, and with a good
current between these rapids,--only stopping to camp when a
three-hundred foot wall rose sheer from the river's edge, bringing to
an end our basin-like river bottom, where one could walk out on either
side. It was not necessary to hunt for driftwood this evening, for a
thicket of mesquite--the best of all wood for a camp-fire--grew out of
the sand-dunes, and some half-covered dead logs were unearthed from
the drifted sand, and soon reduced to glowing coals.
Meanwhile, we were enjoying one of those remarkable Arizona desert
sunsets. Ominous clouds had been gathering in the afternoon, rising
from the southwest, drifting across the canyon, and piling up against
the north wall.
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