The blasting, we learned later, was at some coal mines, several miles up this little canyon, which bore the name of Warm Creek Canyon.  A road led down through the canyon, making it possible to haul the lumber for the boat, clear to the river’s edge.  The nearest railroad was close to two hundred miles from this place, quite a haul considering the ruggedness of the country.  The material for the boat had been shipped from San Francisco, all cut, ready to put together.  The vessel was to be used to carry coal down the river, to a dredge that had recently been installed at Lee’s Ferry.

The dinner gong had just sounded when we landed, and we were taken along with the crowd.  There were some old acquaintances in this group of men, we found, from Flagstaff, Arizona.  These men had received a Flagstaff paper which had published a short note we had sent from Green River, Utah.  They had added a comment that no doubt this would be the last message we would have an opportunity to send out.  Very cheering for Emery’s wife, no doubt.  Fortunately she shared our enthusiasm, and if she felt any apprehension her few letters failed to show it.

We resumed our rowing at once after dinner, for we wished to reach Lee’s Ferry, twenty-five miles distant, that evening.  We had a good current, and soon left our friends behind us.  We pulled with a will, and mile after mile was covered in record time, for our heavy boats.

The walls continued to get higher as we neared our goal, going up sheer close to the river.  We judged the greatest of these walls to be about eleven hundred feet high.  After four hours of steady pulling we began to weary, for ours were no light loads to propel; but we were spurred to renewed effort by hearing the sounds of an engine in the distance.  On rounding a turn we saw the end of Glen Canyon ahead of us, marked by a breaking down of the walls, and a chaotic mixture of dikes of rock, and slides of brilliantly coloured shales, broken and tilted in every direction.  Just below this, close to a ferry, we saw the dredge on the right side of the river.  We were quite close to the dredge before we were seen.  Some men paused at their work to watch us as we neared them, one man calling to those behind him, “There come the brothers!”

A whistle blew announcing the end of their day’s labour, and of ours as well, as it happened.  There was some cheering and waving of hats.  One who seemed to be the foreman asked us to tie up to a float which served as a landing for three motor boats, and a number of skiffs.  A loudly beaten triangle of steel announced that the evening meal was ready at a stone building not far from the dredge.  We were soon seated at a long table with a lot of others as hungry as we, partaking of a well-cooked and substantial meal.  We made arrangements to take a few meals here, as we wished to overhaul our outfits before resuming our journey.