wood bottoms, banked
by the barren, gravelly hills. We had been informed that there was a
settlement called Ouray, some distance down the river, and we were
anxious to reach it before night. But the river was sluggish, with
devious and twisting channels, and it was dark when we finally landed
at the Ouray ferry.

CHAPTER IX

CANYON OF DESOLATION

Ouray, Utah, consisted of a large store to supply the wants of the
Indians and ranchers, a small hotel, and a few dwellings. The agency
proper was located some distance up the Uinta River, which stream
emptied into the Green, just below Ouray.

Supper was taken at the hotel, after which we visited a young man in
charge of the store, looking over his curios and listening to tales of
his life here among these Indians. They were peaceable enough now, but
in years gone by were a danger to be reckoned with. We slept in our
own beds close to our boats by the river.

The following morning, when we were ready to leave, a small crowd
gathered, a few Indians among them. Most of the Indians were big, fat,
and sleepy-looking. Apparently they enjoyed the care of the
government. A mile below we passed several squaws and numerous
children under some trees, while on a high mound stood a lone buck
Indian looking at us as we sped by, but without a single movement that
we could see. He still stood there as we passed from sight a mile
below. It might be interesting if one could know just what was in his
mind as he watched us.

A mile below the Uinta River, which entered on the west, we passed
another stream, the White River, entering from the east, the two
streams adding considerable water to the Green River. We passed
another idle dredge, also some mineral workings in tunnels, and saw
two men camped on the shore beside them. We saw numerous Indian
carvings on the rocks, but judged they were recent because horses
figured in most of them. In all the open country the river was fringed
with large cottonwood trees, alders and willow thickets. A number of
islands followed, one of them very symmetrical in shape, with
cottonwood trees in the centre, while around the edge ran a fringe of
bushes looking almost like a trimmed hedge. The autumn colouring added
to its beauty. The hedge, as we called it, was dark red, brown,
yellow, and green; the cottonwoods were a light yellow. After we had
passed this island, a deer, confused by our voices, jumped into the
river fifty yards behind us, lea