it all and safely anchored to the shore. But I knew there
was a level bank above the river close to the bridge, which would make
a good camping place; so I rested on my oars facing down the stream
with eyes and ears alert for the treacherous snags. Then the stars
began to appear, one by one, lighting up the cloudless sky; a moist,
tropical-like breeze moved up the stream, the channel narrowed and
deepened, the snags vanished, and the stream increased its swiftness.

And with eyes wide open, but unseeing, I dozed. It was the lights of a
passenger train crossing the bridge, just a short distance away, that
made me realize where I was. The train thundered into the darkness;
but louder than the roar of the train was that of the water directly
ahead, and hidden in the impenetrable shadow over on the right shore
was a noise much like that made by a Grand Canyon rapid.

Wide awake now, I pulled for the left, and after one or two attempts
to land, I caught some willow tops and guided the boat to the raised
bank. Beyond the willows was a higher ground, covered with a mesquite
thicket, with cattle trails winding under the thorny trees. Here I
unrolled my sleeping bag, then went up to interview the operator and
the watchman, and to get a drink of clear water, for I had no desire
to drink the liquid mud of the Colorado until it was necessary. In
answer to a question I told them of my little ride. One of the men
exclaimed, "You don't mean to say that you came down on the flood
after dark!" On being informed that I had just arrived, he exclaimed:
"Well I reckon you don't know what the Colorado is. It's a wonder this
whirlpool didn't break you against the pier. You ought to have brought
some one with you to see you drown!"

CHAPTER XXV

FOUR DAYS TO YUMA

Before sunrise the following morning, I had completed my few camp
duties, finished my breakfast and dropped my boat into the whirlpool
above the bridge. My two friends watched the manoeuvre as I pulled
clear of the logs and the piers which caused the water to make such
alarming sounds the night before; then they gave me a final word of
caution, and the information that the Parker Bridge was sixty miles
away and that Yuma was two hundred and fifty miles down the stream.
They thought that I should reach Yuma in a week. It seemed but a few
minutes until the bridge was a mile up the stream. Now I was truly
embarked for the gulf.

By the time I had reached the spire-like