her out.  The second attempt to surmount the rapid was successful, and they were then rewarded by a fierce gale from the north, detaining them twenty-four hours, filling everything with sand, and dragging the steamboat from her moorings to cast her again upon the rocks.  When, at last, they could go on they came after a short time to a canyon deeper and grander than any they had yet seen, called Black Canyon, because it is cut through the Black Mountains.  Ives was uncertain, at the moment, whether this was the entrance to what was called Big Canyon (Grand Canyon) or not.  The Explorer by this time had passed through a number of rapids and the crew were growing expert at this sort of work, so that another rapid a hundred yards below the mouth of the canyon was easily conquered.  The current becoming slack, the steamer went gaily on toward the narrow gateway, where, “flanked by walls many hundreds of feet in height, rising perpendicularly out of the water, the Colorado emerged from the bowels of the range.”  Suddenly the boat stopped with a crash.  The bow had squarely met a sunken rock.  The men forward were knocked completely overboard, those on the after-deck were thrown below, the boiler was jammed out of place, the steampipe was doubled up, the wheelhouse torn away, and numerous minor damages were sustained.  The Explorer had discovered her head of navigation!  They thought she was about to sink, but luckily she had struck in such a way that no hole was made and they were able by means of lines and the skiff to tow her to a sandbank for repairs.  Here the engineer, Carroll, and Captain Robinson devoted themselves to making her again serviceable, while, with the skiff, Ives and two companions continued on up the deep gorge.  Though this was the end of the upward journey, so far as the Explorer was concerned, Johnson with his steamboat had managed to go clear through this canyon.

Rations were at a low stage, consisting entirely, for the past three weeks, of corn and beans, purchased from the natives, but even on this diet without salt the skiff party, worked its way steadily upward over many rapids through the superb chasm.  “No description,” says Ives, “can convey an idea of the varied and majestic grandeur of this peerless waterway.  Wherever the river makes a turn, the entire panorama changes, and one startling novelty after another appears and disappears with bewildering rapidity.”  I commend these pages of Lieutenant Ives, and, in fact, his whole report, to all who delight in word-painting of natural scenery, for the lieutenant certainly handled his pen as well as he did his sword.* Emerging from the solemn depths of Black Canyon (twenty-five miles long) he and his small party passed Fortification Rock and continued on two miles up the river to an insignificant little stream coming in from the north, which he surmised might be the Virgen, though he hardly thought it could be, and it was not.  It was Vegas Wash.  This was his highest point.  Turning about, he descended to the steamboat camp and called that place the head of navigation, not that he did not believe a steamer might ascend, light, through Black Canyon, but he considered it impracticable.  Running now down-stream in the Explorer, the expected pack-train was encountered at the foot of Pyramid Canyon, and a welcome addition was made to the supplies.