RUNNING THE CANON.

Col.  Fremont, in his narrative, gives the following account of a perilous adventure of himself and party, in attempting to run a canon, on the river Platte.  They had previously passed three cataracts: 

We reembarked at nine o’clock, and, in about twenty minutes, reached the next canon.  Landing on a rocky shore at its commencement, we ascended the ridge to reconnoiter.  Portage was out of the question.  So far as we could see, the jagged rocks pointed out the course of the canon, on a winding line of seven or eight miles.  It was simply a narrow, dark chasm in the rock; and here the perpendicular faces were much higher than in the previous pass, being at this end two to three hundred, and further down, as we afterward ascertained, five hundred feet in vertical height.

Our previous success had made us bold, and we determined again to run the canon.  Every thing was secured as firmly as possible; and, having divested ourselves of the greater part of our clothing, we pushed into the stream.  To save our chronometer from accident, Mr. Preuss took it, and attempted to proceed along the shore on the masses of rock, which, in places, were piled up on either side; but, after he had walked about five minutes, every thing like shore disappeared, and the vertical wall came squarely down into the water.  He therefore waited until we came up.

An ugly pass lay before us.  We had made fast to the stern of the boat a strong rope about fifty feet long; and three of the men clambered along among the rocks, and, with this rope, let her slowly through the pass.  In several places, high rocks lay scattered about in the channel; and, in the narrows, it required all our strength and skill to avoid staving the boat on the sharp points.  In one of these, the boat proved a little too broad, and stuck fast for an instant, while the water flew over us; fortunately, it was but for an instant, as our united strength forced her immediately through.  The water swept overboard only a sextant and a pair of saddle-bags.  I caught the sextant as it passed by me; but the saddle-bags became the prey of the whirlpools.  We reached the place where Mr. Preuss was standing, took him on board, and, with the aid of the boat, put the men with the rope on the succeeding pile of rocks.

We found this passage much worse than the previous one, and our position was rather a bad one.  To go back was impossible; before us, the cataract was a sheet of foam; and, shut up in the chasm by the rocks, which, in some places, seemed almost to meet overhead, the roar of the water was deafening, We pushed off again; but, after making a little distance, the force of the current became too great for the men on shore, and two of them let go the rope.  Lajeunesse, the third man, hung on, and was jerked headforemost into the river, from a rock about twelve feet high; and down the boat shot, like an arrow, Bazil following