gave us a cordial reception.  He had known of our coming from the newspapers; besides, he had some mail for us.  We spent the balance of the day in writing letters, and listening to Hite’s interesting experiences of his many years of residence in this secluded spot.  Hite’s home had been a haven for the sole survivor of two expeditions which had met with disaster in Cataract.  In each case they were on the verge of starvation.  Hite kept a record of all known parties who had attempted the passage through the canyons above.  Less than half of these parties, excepting Galloway’s several successful trips, succeeded in getting through Cataract Canyon without wrecking boats or losing lives.

After passing the Fremont River the walls on the right or north side dropped down, leaving low, barren sandstone hills rolling away from the river, with a fringe of willows and shrubs beside the water, and with the usual sage-brush, prickly pear, cactus and bunch-grass on the higher ground.  We had seen one broken-down log cabin, but this ranch was the only extensive piece of ground that was cultivated.  Judging by the size of his stacks of alfalfa, Hite had evidently had a good season.  The banks of the south side of the river were about two hundred feet high, composed of a conglomerate mass of clay and gravel.  This spot has long been a ferry crossing, known far and wide as Dandy Crossing, the only outlet across the river for the towns of southeastern Utah, along the San Juan River.  The entire 150 miles of Glen Canyon had once been the scene of extensive placer operations.  The boom finally died, a few claims only proving profitable.

One of these claims was held by Bert Loper, one of the three miners who had gone down the river in 1908.  Loper never finished, as his boat—­a steel boat, by the way—­was punctured in a rapid above Dark Canyon but was soon repaired.  His cameras and plates being lost, he sent from Hite out for new ones.  His companions—­Chas. Russell, and E.R.  Monette—­were to wait for him at Lee’s Ferry, after having prospected through Glen Canyon.  Some mistake was made about the delivery of the cameras and, as Hite post-office only had weekly communication with the railroad, a month elapsed before he finally secured them.  Lee’s Ferry had been discontinued as a post-office at that time, and, although he tried to get a letter in to them, it was never delivered.  His disappointment can be imagined better than described, when he reached Lee’s Ferry and found his companions had left just a few days previous.  They naturally thought if he were coming at all he would have been there long before that, and they gave him up, not knowing the cause of the delay.  They left a letter, however, saying they would only go to the Bright Angel Trail, and the trip could be completed together on the following year.

Loper spent many hard days working his boat, with his load of provisions, back against the current, and located a few miles below the Hite ranch.