Off for the unknown Country—A lonely Grave—Climbing a Hog-back to a green grassy Valley—Surprising a Ute Camp—Towich-a-tick-a-boo—Following a Blind Trail—The Unknown Mountains Become Known—Down a deep Canyon—To the Paria with the CaÑonita—John D. Lee and Lonely Dell. Andy and Captain Dodds, who had gone to the mouth of the Paria to ascertain the condition of our boats, returned May 15th, reporting the boats all right, but the caches we had left torn up by wolves and prospectors. The latter had stolen oars and other things, and gone down on a raft to be wrecked at the first rapid in Marble Canyon, where they just escaped with their lives. A settler had established himself there a short time before, the notorious John D. Lee, who was reputed to have led the massacre of the unfortunate Missourians at Mountain Meadows in 1857, and who had eluded capture all these years. He had been "cut off," nominally at least, from the Mormon Church, and had lived in the most out-of-the-way places, constantly on his guard. Our men took all our ropes and remaining materials from the caches to his cabin, where they would be safe till our arrival. We prepared for the trip eastward across the unknown country to the mouth of the Dirty Devil River, and by the 22d of May I had completed the preliminary map of the region to westward which we had just reconnoitred. Mrs. Thompson was to stay in Kanab, for Prof. decided that it would not be advisable for her to accompany him on this journey, although she was the most cheerful and resolute explorer of the whole company. A large tent was erected for her in the corner of Jacob's garden, and she was to take her meals with Sister Louisa, whose house stood close by. With Fuzz, a most intelligent dog, for a companion Saturday, May 25th, our caravan of riders, pack animals, and a waggon moved slowly toward Eight-Mile Spring, the first stop in prospect. I rode a brisk little horse which had received the lofty name of Aaron. When we reached Eight-Mile Spring about noon there was barely enough water for our animals and for cooking dinner, which compelled our going elsewhere to put on the finishing touches to our outfit before cutting loose from the settlements, and Prof. directed the caravan to continue to Johnson, farther east and up one of the canyons of the Vermilion Cliffs. He returned to Kanab to make some final arrangements there, while we kept on to Johnson, passing the little settlement of two or three houses, and making a camp two miles above, where the canyon bottom was wide and level. Here we went over everything to be sure that all was in good order and nothing left behind. The animals were reshod where necessary, which operation kept Andy and Dodds busy all of Sunday, the 26th. By thus making a start and proceeding a few miles all defects and neglects become apparent before it is too late to remedy them. On Monday Jack went back to Kanab with the waggon, returning toward night with George Adair. Fennemore had started with them, but he had turned back after something forgotten, and they did not know whether or not he had come on. In the morning George went off to look for him, and met him down at the settlement. He had followed on the day before, but instead of turning up the Johnson road, according to instructions, he had gone ahead on the road towards the Paria settlement. Finally concluding that he was wrong he had tried to correct his mistake by moonlight, but after a while gave it up, tied his mule, unsaddled, to a cedar, and claimed the protection of another for himself. During the night the mule chewed the bridle in two and departed for Kanab, leaving Early Wednesday morning Prof. rode up on his powerful buckskin-coloured horse, and with Johnson and me went over to our Point B some miles away for some bearings, while Fennemore rode in search of his abandoned saddle. By night there was nothing to interfere with our making the final start, which we did May 30th, proceeding up the canyon without Mormon, one of our strongest horses, which by an accident had been injured so badly that he had to be left behind at Johnson. He was a fractious, unruly beast, but with so great vitality that we were sorry not to have his services. He died a week or two later. Towards night we passed another very small settlement called Clarkston, and camped near it, the last houses we would see for some time. Several Pai Utes hung around, and Prof. engaged one called Tom to accompany us as interpreter and, so far as he might know the country, as guide. The next day, after sixteen miles north-easterly up canyons, we entered about three o'clock an exceedingly beautiful little valley, with a fine spring and a small lake or pond at the lower end. George Adair instantly declared that he meant to come back here to live, and after dinner when we reconnoitred the place he staked out his claim. All the next morning, June 1st, our way led over rolling meadows covered with fine grass, but about noon this ended and we entered the broken country of the upper Paria, with gullies and gulches barren and dry the rest of the day, except two, in which we crossed small branches of the Paria. In one of the dry gulches we passed a grave, marked by a sandstone slab with E. A. cut on it, which the wolves had dug out, leaving the human bones scattered all around. We could not stop to reinter them. They were the remains of Elijah Averett, a young Mormon, who was killed Arriving at the top we found ourselves almost immediately on the edge of a delightful little valley, mossy and green with a fresh June dress, down which we proceeded two or three miles to a spring where Dodds and Jacob had made a cache of some flour the year before. The flour had disappeared. We made a camp and dried out our clothes, blankets, etc., by means of large fires. Though it was summer the air was decidedly chilly, for we were at an altitude of nearly 6000 feet. Our interpreter that was to be did not enjoy the situation and I think he dreaded meeting with the stranger Indians we might encounter. He declared he was "heap sick," and begged to Prof. declared it was impossible to proceed farther in this direction towards our goal. The canyon of the river was narrow, and with the stream swimming high it was out of the question as a path for us now, and even had we been able to go down far enough to get out on the other side, the region intervening between it and the distant mountains was a heterogeneous conglomeration of unknown mesas and canyons that appeared impassable. He concluded the only thing to do was to go north to the summit of the Wasatch cliffs and keep along the high land north-east to an angle where these slopes vanished to the north. From that point we might be able to cross to the Dirty Devil or Unknown Mountains. Once at these mountains we felt certain of finding a way to our former camp-ground at the mouth of the Dirty Devil River. We retraced our path to the foot of Potato Valley, and there Jones, Clem, and George Adair were sent out to Kanab for additional rations, it being plain that we were in for a longer effort than had been contemplated. They were to be here again in twelve days to meet Prof. with his party, on the return from starting down the CaÑonita with a crew selected from the seven remaining men. This seven, which included Prof., were now to strike up a branch creek and reach the upper slopes of what he later called the Aquarius Plateau, and along its verdant slopes continue our effort to reach the Unknown Mountains. The two parties separated on Saturday, June 8th, our contingent travelling about eighteen miles nearly due north, till just at sunset we entered a high valley in which flowed two splendid creeks. There we camped with an abundance of everything needed to make a comfortable rest for man and beast. In such travel as this the beast is almost the first consideration, for without him movement is slow and difficult and distance limited. We had gone up in altitude a great deal, 1800 or 2000 feet, and the next day, which was Sunday, we continued this upward course, seeing signs of deer and elk with an occasional sight of a fat "pine All the next morning, Monday, June 10th, we rode through a delightful region of rolling meadows, beautiful groves of pines and aspens, and cool, clear creeks. Near noon we descended into a fertile valley where we crossed two superb torrential streams and camped at the second under a giant pine. Fennemore felt very sick, which prevented further progress this day, and we put in the afternoon exploring as far as we could the neighbourhood. More lakes were found and as they were in a cup-like depression we called them the "Hidden Lakes." Jack made some fine negatives of several of these pretty bodies of water, two of which I have added to the illustrations of this volume. Not far from our camp two more The morning light never was more welcome and we were all up early. The day was fair. We were soon off and made our way down from the grassy heights to the trail, tracing its wearisome twists and turns, sometimes thinking it was not going our way at all when the next turn would be exactly right. In general its course was about east. The land was desolate and dry, and exactly as the region appeared from above, a complete labyrinth of variously coloured cliffs and canyons. Besides being very crooked on account of the nature of the topography, the trail at times was indistinct because of the barren rocks, smooth as a floor, with nothing to take an imprint. In these places we were obliged to make the best guess we could. We came to a place where a valley lay about 1800 feet below us, with the descent to it over bare, smooth, white sandstone almost as steep as a horse could stand on. We travelled a mile and a half over this and then found ourselves in a better looking region where, after a few miles, we discovered a beautiful creek flowing rapidly. There was plenty of good grass and we made our camp beneath some cottonwood trees, having accomplished twenty miles the way we came. Smoke of an Indian fire was rolling up about three miles below us, but we paid little attention to it. Every man delayed putting down his blankets till the champion snorer had selected the site of his bed, and then we all got as far away as the locality would permit. Having slept little the night before, we hardly stirred till morning, and in gratitude we called the stream Pleasant Creek without an attempt at originality. It was Friday, May 14th, and our long cavalcade proceeded in the usual single file down along the creek in the direction of the Indian smoke. Scarcely had we gone three miles when suddenly we heard a yell and the bark of a dog. Then we discovered two squaws on the other side who had been gathering seeds, When Prof. got back to Kanab he heard that a party of Red Lake Utes had killed a white boy near the Sevier settlements, and he concluded this band must have been the one. They probably thought we were pursuing them into their secret lair to punish them. Their great anxiety to trade for powder indicated their lack of that article and partly explained the precipitousness of their retreat. They had numbers of well dressed buckskins and a very small amount of powder would buy one, but as we had only metallic cartridges we could do little in the line of exchange. To satisfy one of them that we had no loose powder I removed the spring from the magazine of my Winchester and poured the sixteen cartridges out. He had never seen such a gun before and was greatly astonished, though he hardly understood how it worked. Prof. tried his best to persuade one to go with us as a guide, for the labyrinth ahead was a puzzle, but whether through fear or disinclination to leave friends not one would go. The chief gave us a minute description of the trail to the Unknown or Dirty Devil Mountains as well as he could by signs and words, some of which we could not understand, and long afterwards we learned that his information was exactly correct, though at the time through misunderstanding we were not able to follow it. They also told us there was a trail to the big river beyond the mountains. There was a little canyon in the creek nearby and the water rushed down over a bed of bare rock at an angle of about twenty degrees. We were surprised to discover hundreds of fish six to nine inches long wriggling up the stream along one edge where the water was very shallow. They formed a line from top to bottom. Unable to secure the guide, we left at six o'clock in the morning, Saturday, June 15th, with all our relations cordial, the Utes going away before we did, and struck out on the trail which led south-eastward from this camp. Travelling twelve miles, we passed through a narrow canyon into a larger one, believing that we were following the chief's direction. Recent heavy rains had washed out the trail, and not knowing its course We returned to camp with this news, where Prof. and Jack soon joined us. They had found no pockets, but had seen the divide between the waters of the Colorado and the Dirty Devil, which we could follow to the mountains if we could scale the cliffs. Prof. had selected a point where he thought we could mount. With a liberal use of axe, shovel, and pick we succeeded in gaining the summit in an hour and a half. With all the cliff-climbing we had done with horses this seemed to me our paramount achievement. The day was ending by this time, and I led the way with some trepidation towards the pocket I had found, for in my haste to get back I had not carefully noted the topography. The cedars and piÑons all looked When morning came we engineered a way for the animals down to the shelf where the other pocket was, twenty or thirty feet below, by pulling rocks away in places and piling them up in others. The shelf was perhaps fifty or sixty feet wide, with a sheer plunge of one thousand feet at the outer end into the first canyon we had followed. The animals could not get to the water, but we dipped it out for them in the camp kettles. The way up from the shelf was so very steep that at one point two of us had to put our shoulders to the haunches of some of the horses to "boost" them, while other men pulled on a strong halter from above, and in this way we soon had them all watered and ready for pack and saddle. Keeping along the divide we had comparatively easy going, with the Unknown Mountains ever looming nearer, till their blue mystery vanished and we could discern ordinary rocks and trees composing their slopes. About noon we arrived at the edge of an intervening valley, with the wind blowing so fierce a gale that we could barely see. Crossing this depression we reached a small creek at the foot of the second mountain from the north (now Mt. Pennell), and climbed its slope seventeen hundred feet to a beautiful spring, where we camped, with plenty of fine grass for the famished horses. We had at last traversed the unknown to the unknown, and felt well satisfied with our success. If it had ever been done before by white men there was no knowledge of it. The temperature was so low that water froze in the camp kettles, and next morning, June 18th, the thermometer stood at 28° F., with the water of the little brook running from the We were striking for the creek up which Prof. and Cap. had come the year before from the river, for we knew that from its mouth we could easily get to where our CaÑonita was cached. The next day, June 20th, we continued down Trachyte Creek, as Prof. called it, till four o'clock, passing many old camps and grazing grounds, when we halted for Prof. to climb to a height. The outlook there showed him that this was not the stream whose canyon below we wanted to descend to the river, so the following morning he took Dodds and recon Sunday was the next day, June 23d, and while the others rested I plotted in the trail by which we had crossed to this place so that Prof. could take it out with him, as he decided that Jack, Johnson, Fennemore, and I were to take the boat down, while he, Andy, and Dodds would go back overland to meet Jones and George Adair at the foot of Potato Valley. At five o'clock they left us, going up the same canyon we had come down and which we called Lost Creek Canyon, now Crescent Creek. The next day we recaulked and painted the boat, and I put the name CaÑonita in red letters on the stern and a red star on each side of the bow. By Wednesday the 26th she was all ready and we put her in the water and ran down four miles to the large Shinumo house. Jack rowed the stern oars, Johnson the bow, I steered, while Fennemore sat on Lee had worked hard since his arrival early in the year and now had his farm in fairly good order with crops growing, well irrigated by the water he took out of the Paria. He called the place Lonely Dell, and it was not a misnomer. Johnson made arrangements to go to Kanab the next day, as he concluded that his health would not permit him to go through the Grand Canyon with us, so this was our last night with him. Lee gave me his own version of the Mountain Meadows Massacre claiming that he really had nothing to do with it and had tried to stop it, and when he could not do so he went to his house and cried. The Pai Utes ever after called him Naguts or Crybaby. In the morning, Sunday, July 14th, Johnson departed with Lee and we expected someone to arrive to bring us news of the Major and Prof., but the sun went down once more without any message. We felt sure that Prof. got out of the Dirty Devil country without accident, but we wanted some definite information of it and we also desired to know when we would resume the canyon voyage. On Monday having nothing else to do we took some hoes and worked in Lee's garden till near noon, when we heard yells which proved to come from Andy and Clem with a waggon needing some help over bad places. We soon had the waggon in a good spot under some willows and there speedily ransacked it for mail, spending the rest of the day reading letters and newspapers. Andy told us that Prof. had reached Kanab with no trouble of any kind. Mrs. Lee XVIII., or Sister Emma, as she would in Utah properly be called, invited us to dinner and supper, and the next day we worked in the garden again, repaired the irrigating ditch, and helped about the place in a general way, glad enough to have some occupation even though the sun was burning hot and the thermometer stood at 110° in the shade. Almost every day we did some work in the garden and we also repaired the irrigating dam. Our camp was across the Paria down by the Colorado, and A copy of DeForrest's Overland was in camp and I whiled away some hours reading it, but time began to hang heavily upon us and we daily longed for the appearance of the rest of the party so that we might push out on the great red flood that moved irresistibly down into the maw of Marble Canyon, and end the uncertainty that lay before us. August the first came and still no message. Fennemore now felt so sick that Jack took him to Lee's with rations in order that he might have vegetables with his meals with the hope that he would recover, but he grew worse, and on August 4th he decided that he would return to his home in Salt Lake. We concluded that one of us must go to Kanab to inform Prof. of the state of affairs, and Clem in his big-hearted way offered to do this, but we knew that his sense of locality was defective and that he might get lost. Consequently we played on him an innocent trick which I may now tell as he long ago went "across the range." I planned with Andy that we three were to draw cuts for the honour of the ride and that Andy was to let me draw the fatal one. Clem was greatly disappointed. Jack went on a chase after Nig and ran him down about sunset, for Nig was the most diplomatic mule that ever lived. Having no saddle I borrowed one from Lee who let me have it dubiously as he The trail across the Kaibab was not often travelled, and it was dim and hard to follow, a faint horse track showing here and there, so I lost it several times but quickly picked it up again, and finally came out of the forest where I could see all the now familiar country to the west and north. About two o'clock I arrived at Kanab and rode to Jacob's house where Sister Louisa told me that the Major, Prof., Mrs. Thompson, Professor De Motte, and George Adair had left that very morning for the south end of the Kaibab on the way to the Paria, and that Jones and Lyman Hamblin the day before had started for the Paria with a waggon load of supplies drawn by a team of four broncho mules. Nig being very tired I thought I would rest till morning, when he rewarded my consideration by eluding me till ten o'clock. This gave me so late a start that it was dark and rainy when I descended the east side of the Kaibab, and I had to drag Nig down the 2000 feet in the gloom over boulders, bushes, ledges, or anything else that came, for I could see only a few feet and could not keep the trail. I reached House Rock Spring at last and camped there. In the morning I discovered Jones and Lyman down in the valley and joined them for breakfast, after which I helped them start. This was no easy matter, for the four mules they had in harness, with one exception, were as wild as mountain sheep, having only recently been broken. Jones had been badly kicked three times, his hands were burned by the ropes, and there was a lively time July 9th about dark we arrived at Lonely Dell, Lee stealing suspiciously in behind where I was walking, to ask me who the men were and what they wanted. We had a joyful time, especially as Steward had sent out a large box of fine candy which we found in the mail and opened at once. Four days later the Major and his party came from the Kaibab and we had venison for supper. The Major said we would go on down the Colorado as soon as possible though the water was still very high. line drawing, lizard FOOTNOTES: |