with water.  Sweeping on down now with railway speed, broadside on, she again struck a few yards below and was broken completely in two, the three men being tossed into the foaming flood.  They were able to gain some support by clinging to the main part of the boat, which still held together.  Drifting on swiftly over a few hundred yards more to a second rapid full of large boulders, the doomed craft struck a third time and was entirely demolished, the men and the fragments being carried then out of sight.  Powell climbed as rapidly as possible over the huge fallen rocks, which here lie along the shore he was on, and presently he was able to get a view of his men.  Goodman was in a whirlpool below a great rock; reaching this he clung to it.  Howland had been washed upon a low rocky island, which at this stage of water was some feet above the current, and Seneca Howland also had gained this place.  Howland extended a long pole to Goodman and by means of it pulled him to the island, where all were safe for the time being.  Several hundred yards farther down, the river took another and more violent fall, rendering the situation exceedingly hazardous.  A boat allowed to get a trifle too far towards this descent would be treated as the No-Name had been served higher up, and the expedition could not afford to lose a second boat with its contents.  The water in these rapids beats furiously against the foot of the opposite vertical cliff, and if a boat in either place should by chance get too far over towards this right-hand wall it would be dashed to pieces there, even could it escape the rocks of the main channel.  The problem was how to rescue the men from the island and not destroy another boat in doing it.  Finally, the Emma Dean was brought down, and Jack Sumner undertook to reach the island in her.  Keeping well up stream, as near the first fall as he could, a few bold strokes enabled him to land near the lower end.  Then, all together, they pulled the boat to the very head of the island and beyond that as far as they could stand up in the water.  Here one man sat on a rock and held the boat steady till the others were in perfect readiness to pull with all their power, when he gave a shove and, clinging on, climbed in while the oarsmen put their muscle to the test.  The shore was safely attained, and Powell writes:  “We are as glad to shake hands with them as though they had been on a voyage around the world, and wrecked on a distant coast.”  This disaster was most serious, even though the men were saved, for, besides the loss of the craft itself, all the barometers by some miscalculation were on the No-Name.  They were able to make camp on the shore and survey the situation.  “No sleep comes to me in all those dark hours,” writes Powell.  To meet with such a reverse at so early a stage was very discouraging, but Powell had counted on disaster, and, as he was never given to repining, as soon as breakfast was eaten the next morning he cast about for a way