ams, and so we adopt as names
Kingfisher Creek, Kingfisher Park, and Kingfisher Canyon. At night we
camp at the foot of this canyon.

Our general course this day has been south, but here the river turns to
the east around a point which is rounded to the shape of a dome. On its
sides little cells have been carved by the action of the water, and in
these pits, which cover the face of the dome, hundreds of swallows have
built their nests. As they flit about the cliffs, they look like swarms
of bees, giving to the whole the appearance of a colossal beehive of the
old-time form, and so we name it Beehive Point.

The opposite wall is a vast amphitheater, rising in a succession of
terraces to a height of 1,200 or 1,500 feet. Each step is built of red
sandstone, with a face of naked red rock and a glacis clothed with
verdure. So the amphitheater seems banded red and green, and the evening
sun is playing with roseate flashes on the rocks, with shimmering green
on the cedars' spray, and with iridescent gleams on the dancing waves.
The landscape revels in the sunshine.

_May 31.--_We start down another canyon and reach rapids made dangerous
by high rocks lying in the channel; so we run ashore and let our boats
down with lines. In the afternoon we come to more dangerous rapids and
stop to examine them. I find we must do the same work again, but, being
on the wrong side of the river to obtain a foothold, must first cross
over--no very easy matter in such a current, with rapids and rocks
below. We take the pioneer boat, "Emma Dean," over, and unload her on
the bank; then she returns and takes another load. Running back and
forth, she soon has half our cargo over. Then one of the larger boats is
manned and taken across, but is carried down almost to the rocks in
spite of hard rowing. The other boats follow and make the landing, and
we go into camp for the night.

At the foot of the cliff on this side there is a long slope covered with
pines; under these we make our beds, and soon after sunset are seeking
rest and sleep. The cliffs on either side are of red sandstone and
stretch toward the heavens 2,500 feet. On this side the long, pine-clad
slope is surmounted by perpendicular cliffs, with pines on their
summits. The wall on the other side is bare rock from the water's edge
up 2,000 feet, then slopes back, giving footing to pines and cedars.

As the twilight deepens, the rocks grow dark and somber; the threatening
roar of the wat