re retraced
to a point where we managed to ascend to the slopes of what is now
called the Aquarius Plateau. Three men were sent back to Kanab after
more rations, while Thompson with the other six pushed on around the
slopes, trying to find a way to cross the labyrinth of canyons to the
Unknown Mountains. On the 9th of June we were at an altitude of ten
thousand feet above sea-level, with all the wilderness of canyons,
cliffs, and buttes between us and the Colorado spreading below like
a map, or rather like some kaleidoscopic phantasm. The slopes we were
crossing were full of leaping torrents and clear lakes. They were
so covered with these that the plateau afterwards was given the name
Aquarius. Beaman, who had been photographer on our river trip, had left
us, and we now had a new man from Salt Lake, named Fennemore. He was a
frail man and the trip was almost too much for him. Down below we saw
the smokes of native fires in several places, but we could not tell by
what tribe they were made. At last we came to a point where the plateau
broke back to the north, and we paused to search for a way to continue.
I was sent out in one direction with one man, and Thompson went in
another. I had not gone half a mile before I found an old trail which
had very recently been travelled by natives, and when I had followed it
far enough to get its trend, and as far as I dared, for I feared running
on the camp at any point, I returned to report. Thompson decided to take
this trail. It led us across strange country, and in one place for a
long distance over barren sandstone into a peculiar valley. Here we
camped about three miles from a great smoke, and the next morning ran
right on top of a Ute encampment. At first we expected trouble, but
there were only seven of the warriors, and they were, as we learned
later, out of powder, so when they sighted us they disappeared. At last
they returned, and we had a talk with them, trying to induce one to go
with us as guide. They described the trails, but refused to go along.

We camped one night near them, and then went on, arriving finally, after
a great deal of trouble at the Unknown Mountains, since called the Henry
Mountains, having taken a wrong trail. At one place we were obliged to
take the whole packtrain up a cliff fifteen hundred feet high, making
a trail as we went. On the top were some water-pockets. We watered the
stock at one of these the next morning, when we were obliged fairly
to