After considerable hard work the party reached a particularly sharp, though not very high, fall, announced before arrival by a loud and angry roar.  Here a portage was deemed wise, and the goods were carried up over the huge broken rocks and so on down to a point well below the foot of the drop, where the cargoes were again restored to the boats, which meanwhile had been lowered by lines.  It was here that the name of Ashley and a year date were found inscribed on a rock.  Of this I made a careful copy in 1871, which is given on page 112.  The second figure could, of course, be only an 8, and the fourth was plainly a 5.  The third, however, was obscure, and Powell was uncertain whether it was a 3 or a 5.  It could have been nothing but a 2, because, as we have seen, it was in the twenties of the last century that Ashley operated in this region; and it was in 1825 that he made the Red Canyon journey.  At the date which a 3 would make he was a Congressman, and he was never in the Far West again.  Running on through Red Canyon with exhilarating velocity, but without any serious drawback, the party came out into the tranquil Brown’s Hole, henceforth called Brown’s Park.  At the foot of this, without any preliminaries, they were literally swept into the heart of the mountains, for it is here that the river so suddenly rends the massive formations in twain and speeds away toward the sea between wonderful precipices of red sandstone, churning itself to ivory in the headlong rush.  This was named the Canyon of Lodore at the suggestion of one of the men.  The work of safely proceeding down the torrent now grew far more difficult.  Rapids were numerous and the descent in most of them very great.  The boats had to be handled with extra caution.  The method of travelling was for Powell to go ahead in the Emma Dean to examine the nature of each rapid before the other boats should come down to it.  If he saw a clear chute he ran through and signalled “come on,” but if he thought it too risky he signalled “land,” and the place was examined as well as he was able from the shore.  If this investigation showed a great many dangerous rocks, or any other dangerous element, a portage was made, or the boats were let down along the edge by lines without taking out the cargoes.  In this careful way they were getting along very well, when one day they came to a particularly threatening place.  Powell immediately perceived the danger, and, landing, signalled the other boats to do likewise.  Unfortunately, the warning came too late for the No-Name, which was drawn into a sag, a sort of hollow lying just above the rapid, to clutch the unwary and drive them over the fall to certain destruction.  Powell for a moment had given his attention to the last boat, and as he turned again and hurried along to discover the fortune of the No-Name, which was plunging down, without hope of escape, toward the frightful descent, he was just in time to see her strike a rock and, rebounding, careen so that the open compartment filled