As the canyon deepened the cliffs were cut into fantastic shapes, as is usual in rocks unprotected by vegetation.  There was a hard rock near the top in places which overhung a softer formation.  This would erode, giving a cornice-like effect to the cliffs.  Others were surmounted by square towers and these were capped by a border of little squares, making the whole look much like a castle on the Rhine.  For half a day we found no rapids, but pulled away on a good current.  The walls gradually grew higher and were more rugged; a few trees cropped out on their sides.  At noon our boats were lashed together and lunch was eaten as we drifted.  We covered about three miles in this way, taking in the scenery as we passed.  We saw a great stone arch, or natural bridge, high on a stupendous cliff to our right, and wondered if any one had ever climbed up to it.  Our lunch was no more than finished when the first rapid was heard ahead of us.  Quickly unlashing our boats, we prepared for strenuous work.  Friday the 13th proved to be a lucky day; thirteen large rapids and thirteen small ones were placed behind us before we camped at Rock Creek—­a splashing, laughing mountain stream, no doubt containing trout.

The following morning we found there was a little ranch house below us, but, though we called from our boats, no one came out.  We wondered how any one could reach this out-of-the-way place, as a road would be almost an impossibility.  Later we found a well-constructed trail on the right-hand side all the way through the canyon.  We saw a great many cattle travelling this trail.  Some were drinking at the river when we swept into view.  Our boats filled them with alarm, and they scrambled for the hillsides, looking after us with frightened expressions as we left them to the rear.

We put in a full day at running rapids, one after another, until fifteen large ones were passed, no count being kept of the smaller ones.  Some of these rapids resembled dams from six to twelve feet high, with the water falling abruptly over a steep slope.  Others were long and rough, with swift water in places.  Above one of these we had landed, then found we could get a much better view from the opposite shore.  Emery crossed and landed, I followed.  We had been having heavy winds all day.  When crossing here I was caught by a sudden gust of wind and carried to the head of the rapid.  I heard Emery call, “Look out for the big rock!” then over I went.  The wind and water together had turned my boat sideways, and try as I would I could not get it turned around.  I saw the rock Emery referred to straight ahead of me.  It was about fifteen feet square and about fourteen feet from the shore, with a powerful current shooting between the rock and the shore.  It seemed as if I must strike the rock broadside, and I ceased my struggle, but held out an oar with both hands, hoping to break the blow.  But it never came.  The water struck this rock with great force, then rebounded, and actually kept me from even touching the rock with the oar, but it caught the boat and shot it through the narrow channel, bow first, as neatly as it could possibly be done, then, turned the boat around again as I scrambled to regain my hold on both oars.  No other rocks threatened however, and besides filling the cockpit with water, no damage was done.