gone through the next canyon, named
Kingfisher, they found themselves at the beginning of a new and closer,
deeper gorge, Red Canyon, where the waters first begin to exhibit their
grim intention. Here they encountered real rapids, the boats often
dashing along at railroad speed, the waves fiercely breaking over them,
and bailing becoming an imperative accomplishment. The attempt of a Ute
to run through this canyon was described in picturesque terms by one
of the tribe. "Rocks, heap, heap, high," he said; "water go hoowoogh,
hoowoogh; water-pony heap buck; water catch um; no see um Injun any
more! no see um squaw any more! no see um papoose any more!" and thus
begins and ends the only history of native navigation on this upper
river I ever heard of.

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.