Find track of small five-toed animal on
the trail.
We go by cattle-trails a short cut to Swamp Point through the
forest, over ridges, through thickets and some of the grassy valleys. Out
on Swamp Point again I am shown Bass Camp on the south rim. It is scarcely
discernible even with glasses, the distance is so vast. We all walk down
the steep descent from this Point and make quick time to the place where we
camped Sept. 3. We descend one thousand nine hundred feet in one hour and
twenty minutes. After lunch, the men then cache much of the remaining
provisions and cooking outfit for future use, and we go on riding as fast
as possible down the dry bed of the stream. Then out of this, through a
narrow canyon, past the gray-rock walls and gulch with black cave at bottom
and slide in the talus above, over the fertile plateau, long descent on
foot, where as I zigzag I see the men and the burros what seem to be
hundreds of feet below.
"On down another dry stream bed, many stony descents in a shut-in canyon.
Out of this into more open country, but over ridges, up and down. We come
down to that part of the trail which I feared most in daylight and now we
have only the starlight to enable us to descend. Mr. Bass takes me in
charge and Mr. James goes up over the ridges to round up the burros which
have been left to their own devices. A torch of sage-brush is lighted to
find the trail. At last we reach the bottom. The men throw some blankets on
the ground for me and I fall upon them. They go down to the Shinumo, which
is only a few yards away, prepare supper and bring a cup of hot coffee for
me. I return with them, make my bed, eat a hearty supper and then fall
asleep with the roar of the Shinumo in my ears. My bed is comfortable and I
have a feeling of perfect safety and confidence.
Watermelons in the Canyon. "Sunday, Sept. 8, 1901. We are on the Shinumo,
and only half an hour's ride above the camp. What a beautiful stream it is;
cataracts, still reaches, rapids, sandy shoals, deep pools, and the water
so pure, blue and clear. We cross and re-cross many times, through thickets
of willow and mesquite. I am many times scratched and my hat is forcibly
snatched from my head. At camp I feed watermelon rinds to Belshazzar who
receives them as gratefully as I did the melons. How strange to find them
growing here, - so ripe, rich and delicious. I feel very weary but deeply
regret having to leave this lovely place. We start for the river. When the
others arrive the packs, etc., are taken across in three loads. The four of
us go over in the last load.
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