high.  The precipice over which it fell was nothing but a mineral deposit from the water, building higher every year.  Formerly this was impassable, until some miners, after enlarging a sloping cave, had cut a winding stairway in it, which allowed a descent to be made to the bottom of the fall.  A recent storm had remodelled all the falls in Cataract Creek Canyon, cutting out the travertine in some places, piling it up in others.  A great mass of cottonwood trees were also mixed with the debris.  The village, too, had been washed away and was then being rebuilt.  We had been told that the tunnel was filled up, and as far as we knew no one had been to the river since the flood.

The other outlet was Diamond Creek Canyon, much farther down the river.  We would decide when we got to Ha Va Su just what we would do.

Tapeets Creek, one mile below our camp,—­a stream which has masqueraded under the title of Thunder River, and about which there has been considerable speculation,—­proved to be a stream a little smaller than Bright Angel Creek, flowing through a narrow slot in the rocks, and did not fall sheer into the river, as has been reported.  Perhaps a small cascade known as Surprise Falls which we passed the next day has been confused with Tapeets Creek.  This stream corkscrews down through a narrow crevice and falls about two hundred feet, close to the river’s edge.  We are told that the upper end of Tapeets Creek is similar to this, but on a much larger scale.

Just opposite this fall a big mountain-sheep jumped from under an overhanging ledge close to the water, and stared curiously at us, as though he wondered what strange things those were coming down with the current.  It is doubtful if he ever saw a human being before.  This sight sent us scrambling in our cases for cameras and firearms; and it was not the game laws, but a rusted trigger on the six-shooter instead, that saved the sheep.  He finally took alarm and scampered away over the rocks, and we had no mutton stew that night.

We had one night of heavy rain, and morning revealed a little snow within three hundred feet of the river, while a heavy white blanket covered the upper cliffs.  It continued to snow on top, and rained on us nearly all this day.  Emery took this opportunity to get the drop of moisture out of the lens, and put the camera in such shape that we could proceed with our picture making.  A short run was made after this work was completed.

The camp we were just leaving was about three miles above Kanab Canyon.  The granite was behind us, disappearing with a steep descent much as it had emerged at the Hance Trail.  There was also a small deposit of algonkian.  This too had been passed, and we were back in the limestone and sandstone walls similar to the lower end of Marble Canyon.  While the formations were the same, the canyon differed.  The layers were thicker, the red sandstone and the marble walls were equally sheer; there was no plateau between.  What plateau this canyon contained lay on top of the red sandstone.  Few peaks rose above this.  The canyon had completed its northern run and was turning back again to the west-southwest with a great sweep or circle.  Less than an hour’s work brought us to Kanab Canyon.