cident. After all,
it is only the unusual that is terrible. Jimmy was ready enough to
take his chances at dodging bricks hurled by a San Francisco
earthquake, but never got quite used to rocks descending from a source
altogether out of sight. Small wonder, after all! Later we were to
experience more of this thing, and on a scale to startle a stoic!

We halted at the end of Horseshoe, early in the afternoon of September
14, 1911, one week out from Green River City. Camp No. 6 was pitched
on a gravelly shore beside Sheep Creek, a clear sparkling stream,
coming in from the slopes of the Uintah range. Just above us, on the
west, rose three jagged cliffs, about five hundred feet high,
reminding one by their shape of the Three Brothers of Yosemite Valley.
Here, again, we were treated to another wonderful example of geologic
displacement, the rocks of Horseshoe Canyon lying in level strata;
while those of Kingfisher, which followed, were standing on end. Sheep
Creek, flowing from the west, finds an easy course through the fault,
at the division of the canyons. The balance of this day was spent in
carefully packing our material and rearranging it in our boats, for we
expected hard work to follow.

Tempted by the rippling song of the brook, and by tales of fish to be
found therein, we spent two hours fishing from its banks on the
morning of the 15th. But the foliage of overhanging trees and shrubs
was dense, making it difficult to cast our lines, or even to climb
along its shores, and our small catch of two trout, which were fried
with a strip of bacon to add flavour, only whetted our appetites for
more.

It was a little late in the season for many birds. Here in Kingfisher
Canyon were a few of the fish-catching birds from which the canyon
took its name. There were many of the tireless cliff-swallows
scattered all through these canyons, wheeling and darting, ever on the
wing. These, with the noisy crested jays, an occasional "camp-robber,"
the little nuthatches, the cheerful canyon wren with his rollicking
song, the happy water-ousel, "kill-deer," and road-runners and the
water birds,--ducks, geese, and mud-hens, with an occasional
crane,--made up the bird life seen in the open country and in these
upper canyons. Earlier in the season it must be a bird's paradise, for
berries and seeds would then be plentiful.

We resumed our journey at 10 A.M., a very short run bringing us to the
end of Kingfisher Canyon. The three canyons