way: We pass along the wall by
climbing from projecting point to point, sometimes near the water's
edge, at other places fifty or sixty feet above, and hold the boat with
a line, while two men remain aboard, and prevent her from being dashed
against the rocks, and keep the line from getting caught in the wall. In
two hours we have brought them all down, as far as it is possible, in
this way. A few yards below, the river strikes with great violence
against a projecting rock, and our boats are pulled up in a little bay
above. We must now manage to pull out of this, and clear the point
below. The little boat is held by the bow obliquely up the stream. We
jump in, and pull out only a few strokes, and sweep clear of the
dangerous rock. The other boats follow in the same manner, and the rapid
is passed.

It is not easy to describe the labour of such navigation. We must
prevent the waves from dashing the boats against the cliffs. Sometimes,
where the river is swift, we must put a bight of rope about a rock, to
prevent her being snatched from us by a wave; but where the plunge is
too great, or the chute too swift, we must let her leap, and catch her
below, or the undertow will drag her under the falling water, and she
sinks. Where we wish to run her out a little way from shore, through a
channel between rocks, we first throw in little sticks of driftwood, and
watch their course, to see where we must steer, so that she will pass
the channel in safety. And so we hold, and let go, and pull, and lift,
and ward, among rocks, around rocks, and over rocks.

And now we go on through this solemn, mysterious way. The river is very
deep, the canon very narrow, and still obstructed, so that there is no
steady flow of the stream; but the waters wheel, and roll, and boil, and
we are scarcely able to determine where we can go. Now, the boat is
carried to the right, perhaps close to the wall; again, she is shot into
the stream, and perhaps is dragged over to the other side, where, caught
in a whirlpool, she spins about. We can neither land nor run as we
please. The boats are entirely unmanageable; no order in their running
can be preserved; now one, now another, is ahead, each crew labouring
for its own preservation. In such a place we come to another rapid. Two
of the boats run it perforce. One succeeds in landing, but there is no
foothold by which to make a portage, and she is pushed out again into
the stream. The next minute a great reflex