onday, October the 2d saw us making arrangements
for the final run that would take us out of Lodore Canyon. No doubt it
was a beautiful and a wonderful place, but none of us seemed sorry to
leave it behind. For ten days we had not had a single day entirely
free from rain, and instead of having a chance to run rapids, it
seemed as if we had spent an entire week in carrying our loads, or in
lining our boats through the canyon. The canyon walls lost much of
their precipitous character as we neared the end of the canyon.

A short run took us over the few rapids that remained, and at a turn
ahead we saw a 300-foot ridge, brilliantly tinted in many
colours,--light and golden yellows, orange and red, purple and
lavender,--and composed of numberless wafer-like layers of rock,
uptilted, so that the broken ends looked like the spines of a gigantic
fish's back. A sharp turn to the left soon brought us to the end of
this ridge, close to the bottom of a smooth, sheer wall. Across a
wide, level point of sand we could see a large stream, the Yampa
River, flowing from the East to join its waters with those of the
Green. This was the end of Lodore Canyon.

CHAPTER VII

JIMMY GOES OVER THE MOUNTAIN

The Yampa, or Bear River, was a welcome sight to us in spite of its
disagreeable whitish yellow, clay colour; quite different from the red
water of the Green River. The new stream meant more water in the
channel, something we needed badly, as our past tribulations showed.
The recent rise on the Green had subsided a little, but we now had a
much higher stage than when we entered Lodore. Quite likely the new
conditions gave us six feet of water above the low water on which we
had been travelling. Would it increase or diminish our dangers? We
were willing, Emery and I, even anxious, to risk our chances on the
higher water.

Directly opposite the Yampa, the right shore of the Green went up
sheer about 700 feet high, indeed it seemed to overhang a trifle. This
had been named Echo Cliffs by Powell's party. The cliffs gave a
remarkable echo, repeating seven words plainly when shouted from the
edge of the Yampa a hundred yards away, and would doubtless repeat
more if shouted from the farther shore of the Yampa. Echo Cliffs, we
found, were in the form of a peninsula and terminated just below this
point where we stood, the river doubling back on the other side of the
cliff. On the left side of the river, the walls fell back, leaving a