lift the horses out of the gulch by putting our shoulders to their
haunches. At last, however, we got to the mountains, and though it was
now the 17th of June water froze one half inch thick in the kettles in
our camp about fifteen hundred feet up the slopes. Thompson climbed one
of the mountains, and I started up another, but my companion gave out.
We crossed through a pass, and on the 22d, after pursuing a winding and
difficult road through canyons, succeeded in getting the whole train
down to the Colorado a short distance below the mouth of the Dirty
Devil. The Colorado was high, and swept along majestically. We found it
had been up as far as the Canonita, and had almost washed away one of
the oars. We soon ran her down to our camp, and there put her in order
for the journey, which from here to the Paria could be nothing more
than a pleasure trip. Thompson, Dodds, and Andy left the rest of us
and returned on the trail towards Kanab. Those left for the boat's crew
besides myself were Hillers, Fennemore, the photographer, and W. D.
Johnson. The latter was from Kanab, and was a Mormon, as was also the
photographer, and both were fine fellows. The river was at flood and
we had an easy time of it so far as travelling was concerned. Our
investigations and photographing sometimes consumed half a day, but
in the other half we made good progress, eight or nine miles without
trying. The rations were limited in variety, but were abundant of their
kind, being almost entirely bread and black coffee. When we tried, we
made great runs, one day easily accomplishing about forty miles. The
San Juan was now a powerful stream, as we saw on passing. At the
Music Temple we camped, and I cut Hillers's and my name on the rocks.
Fennemore made a picture of the place, given on page 215. On the 13th
of July, we reached the Paria, where we expected to find several of our
party, but they were not there. We discovered that someone had come in
here since our last visit, and built a house. It proved to be John D.
Lee, of Mountain Meadow Massacre notoriety, who had established a home
here for one of his two remaining wives. He called the place Lonely
Dell, and it was not a misnomer. It is now known as Lee's Ferry. Mrs.
Lee proved to be an agreeable woman, and she and her husband treated
us very kindly, inviting us, as we had nothing but bread and coffee,
to share their table, an offer we gladly accepted. Here Johnson and
Fennemore left us, going out