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.

photo, canyon

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, piÑon 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:

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:

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.

photo, fenced compound

photo, river

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 piÑon 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.

line drawing, animal head

photo, lake

line drawing, mountain scene