About the lower end of Red Canyon the river turned directly east, paralleling the northern boundary of Utah, and continued to flow in this general direction until it crossed into Colorado.

On emerging from Red Canyon we spied a ranch house or log cabin close to the river.  The doors were open and there were many tracks in the sand, so we thought some one must be about.  On approaching the house, however, we found the place was deserted, but with furniture, books, and pictures piled on the floor in the utmost confusion, as if the occupants had left in a great hurry.  This surmise afterward proved to be correct; for we learned that the rancher had been murdered for his money, his body having been found in a boat farther down the river.  Suspicion pointed to an old employee who had been seen lurking near the place.  He was traced to the railroad, over a hundred miles to the north; but made his escape and was never caught.

We found Brown’s Park, once known as Brown’s Hole, to be a beautiful valley several miles in width, and thirty-five or forty miles in length.  The upper end of the valley was rugged in places, with rocky hills two or three hundred feet high.  To the south, a few miles away, were the mountains, a continuation of those we had come through.  We saw many cattle scattered over some of these rocky hills, grazing on the bunch-grass.  At one place our course led us through a little canyon about two miles long, and scarcely more than two hundred feet deep.  This was Swallow Canyon—­a name suggested by the many birds of that species which had covered the canyon’s walls with their little clay nests.  The openings of some of these nests were so small that it scarcely seemed possible for a bird to enter.

The water was deep and quiet in this short canyon, and a hard wind blowing up the stream made it difficult for us to gain any headway.  In this case, too, the forms of the boat were against us.  With the keel removed and with their high sides catching the wind, they were carried back and forth like small balloons.  Well, we could put up with it for a while, for those very features would prove most valuable in the rough-water canyons which were to follow!

Emerging from the canyon at last, we saw a ferry loaded with sheep crossing the stream.  On the left shore was a large corral, also filled with sheep which a half dozen men were driving back and forth into different compartments.  Later these men told us there were 2400 sheep in the flock.  We took their word for it, making no attempt to count them.  The foreman of the ranch agreed to sell us some sugar and honey,—­these two articles being a welcome addition to our list of supplies, which were beginning to show the effects of our voracious appetites.

We found many other log cabins and ranches as we proceeded.  Some of them were deserted; at others men were busily engaged in cutting hay or the wild grass that grew in the bottoms.  The fragrance of new-mown hay was in the air.  Young boys and women were among these busy workers, some of the women being seated on large harvesters, handling the horses with as much dexterity as any of the men.