a few deer tracks, but have not seen any deer.  We also saw some jumping trout in a splashy little rapid.  Doubtless they came from a little creek, close by, for we never heard of trout being found in the Green River.”

“We made a motion picture, while dropping our boats down with lines, over the first rapid we considered bad.  Emery remained in the boats, keeping clear of the rocks with a pole.  Powell’s second party records an upset here.  We passed Kettle Creek about 5 P.M.  In the fifth rapids below Kettle Creek I got on the wrong side of the river and was carried into a very rocky rapid—­the worst so far encountered.  I touched a rock or two at the start, but made the run in safety; while Emery ran the opposite side without trouble.  We camped beside a small stream on the south, where there were signs of an old camp.”

“Saturday, September 16.  Clear and cold in the early morning.  Started about 9 A.M.  Lined our boats past a difficult rapid.  Too many rocks, not enough water.  Two or three miles below this I had some difficulty in a rapid, as the pin of a rowlock lifted out of the socket when in the middle of rough water.  Emery snapped a picture just as it happened.  A little later E.C.[2] ran a rocky rapid, but had so much trouble that we concluded to line my boat.  Noon.  Just a cold lunch, but with hot coffee from the vacuum bottles.  Then at it again.”

“The scenery is wonderful; the canyon is deeper than above; the river is swift and has a decided drop.  We proceed cautiously, and make slow progress.  We camp for the day on the north side close to a little, dry gully, on a level sage and bunch-grass covered bottom back from the river’s edge.  An abruptly descending canyon banked with small cottonwood trees coming in from the opposite side contains a small stream.  Put up our tent for the second time since leaving Green River, Wyoming.  We are all weary, and glad to-morrow is Sunday—­a day of rest.”

“Sunday, September 17. E.C. and I follow a fresh deer track up a game trail and get—­a rabbit.  Climb out about 1300 feet above the river to the top of the narrow canyon.  Here is a sloping plateau, dotted with bunch-grass and grease-wood, a fourth of a mile wide.  Then rounded mountains rise beyond the plateau, some of the peaks reaching a height of 4000 feet above the river.  The opposite side is much the same, but with a wider plateau.  We had no idea before what a wonderful country this is.  It is a picture to tempt an artist.  High on the mountain tops is the dark blue-green of pines and firs, reds and yellows are mixed in the quaking aspen,—­for the frost comes early enough to catch the sap in the leaves; little openings, or parks with no trees, are tinted a beautiful soft gray; ‘brownstone fronts’ are found in the canyon walls; and a very light green in the willow-leafed cottonwoods at the river’s edge, and in all side canyons where