Here, the stream which was spread a mile wide above, had choked down
to two hundred feet; small violent whirlpools formed at the abrupt
turns in this so-called canyon and the water tore from side to side.
In one whirl my boat was twice carried around the circle into which I
had allowed it to be caught, then shot out on the pounding flood. Soon
the slag-like mountains were passed and the country began to spread,
first in a high barren land, then with a bottom land running back from
the river. The willow bushes changed to willow trees, tall and
spindly, crowded in a thicket down to the river's edge. The Chemehuevi
Indians have their reservation here. On rounding an abrupt turn I
surprised two little naked children, fat as butterballs, dabbling in a
mud puddle close to the stream. The sight, coupled with the
tropical-like heat and the jungle, could well make one imagine he was
in Africa or India, and that the little brown bodies were the
"alligator bait" of which we read. Only the 'gators were missing. The
unexpected sight of a boat and a white man trying to photograph them
started them both into a frightened squall. Then an indignant mother
appeared, staring at me as though she would like to know what I had
done to her offspring. Farther along were other squaws, with red and
blue lines pencilled on their childlike, contented faces, seated under
the willows. Their cotton garments, of red and blue bandanna
handkerchiefs sewed together, added a gay bit of colour to the scene.
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