ht we would don our dry clothes from the rubber bags, and,
when supper was over, would prepare a bed. If any kind of boughs or
willows were to be had, we cut a quantity and, laying them in
regular order near together, formed a sort of mattress which was very
comfortable. If these were not to be had, the softest spot of sand was
the next choice. In putting the river suit on in the morning, there was
often something of a shock, for it was not always thoroughly dry. At
length the welcome end of Desolation came, indicated by a lowering of
the walls and a break, where we were surprised to see a solitary lame
horse, but the next canyon, Gray, formed immediately. This was at first
called Lignite Canyon, but was afterwards renamed on account of the grey
colour of the walls; an unusual feature. The work here was similar to
that in Desolation, and we were not sorry when we came to the foot of
it, there going into camp to await the return of Powell. One of our
flags was planted at the end of an island below the canyon mouth, so
that he might see it. Opposite our camp was a very striking pinnacle
then called Cathedral Butte, but later changed to Gunnison. Here we took
the boats out and gave them a good overhauling, which they badly needed.
The descent through Desolation and Gray had been nearly six hundred
feet.

Fishing one evening, Hillers thought his hook had caught in a snag, but
he was greatly surprised after carefully pulling in his line, to find on
the end of it a sluggish fish four feet long, and as large around as a
stovepipe. We were to wait here till the 3d of September for Powell, but
on the 29th of August three shots were heard in the valley outside; the
Major's signal. W. C. Powell and I were sent to investigate. We found
him, with a companion, on the other bank, opposite the flag we had put
up. Arriving near our station, a man was sent to take their horses down
to their camp, about five miles below, and they went with us on the
boats. Hamblin, the man with Powell, was not altogether comfortable in
some of the swift places. As we cleared the high butte marking the end
of Gray Canyon, we perceived, stretching away to the westward from it, a
beautiful line of azure-blue cliffs, wonderfully buttressed and carved.
At first these were called the Henry Cliffs, but afterward Henry was
applied to some mountains and the cliffs were called Azure. At the camp
we found another man, like the first a Mormon and, as we learned later