The Colorado river is a large stream, but as seen here a
mile below and several miles out, it dwindles into insignificance
and appears no larger than a meadow brook. The river looks
placid in the distance, but is a raging, turbulent torrent in
which an ordinary boat cannot live and the roar of its wild
waters can be distinctly heard as of the rushing of a distant
train of cars.
A second day spent in riding down the canon to Grand View Point
and back is equally delightful. Looking across a bend in the
canon from Grand View Point to Bissell's Point the distance seems
to be scarcely more than a stone's throw, yet it is fully half
the distance of the circuitous route by the rim trail.
There are three trails leading into the canon and down to the
river, the Bright Angel, Grand View and Hance trails, which are
at intervals of eight and twelve miles apart. They are equally
interesting and comparatively safe if the trip is made on the
back of a trained pony or burro with a competent guide.
The Hance trail is a loop and is twenty miles long. It is seven
miles down to the river, six miles up the stream and seven miles
back to the rim. It was built single handed by Captain John
Hance, who has lived many years in the canon. The trail is free
to pedestrians, but yields the captain a snug income from horse
hire and his own services as guide for tourists who go over the
trail.
Captain Hance is an entertaining raconteur and he spins many
interesting yarns for the amusement, if not the edification, of
his guests. The serious manner in which he relates his stories
makes it sometimes hard to tell whether be is in jest or earnest.
His acknowledged skill in mountaineering, and felicity in
romancing has won for him more than a local reputation and the
distinguished title of Grand Canon Guide and Prevaricator.
He relates how "once upon a time" he pursued a band of mountain
sheep on the rim of the canon. Just as he was about to secure
his quarry the sheep suddenly turned a short corner and
disappeared behind some rocks. Before he realized his danger he
found himself on the brink of a yawning abyss and under such a
momentum that he could not turn aside or stop his horse.
Together they went over the cliff in an awful leap. He expected
to meet instant death on the rocks below and braced himself for
the shock. As the fall was greater than usual, being over a mile
deep in a perpendicular line, it required several seconds for the
descending bodies to traverse the intervening space, which gave
him a few moments to think and plan some way of escape.
