the world.

There was some mention made of Major Powell, that daring adventurer,
who, a few years previously, had accomplished the marvellous feat of
going down the Colorado and through the Grand Canon, in a small boat, he
being the first man who had at that time ever accomplished it, many men
having lost their lives in the attempt.

At last, on the 8th of September, we arrived at Camp Mojave, on the
right bank of the river; a low, square enclosure, on the low level of
the flat land near the river. It seemed an age since we had left Yuma
and twice an age since we had left the mouth of the river. But it was
only eighteen days in all, and Captain Mellon remarked: "A quick trip!"
and congratulated us on the good luck we had had in not being detained
on the sandbars. "Great Heavens," I thought, "if that is what they call
a quick trip!" But I do not know just what I thought, for those eighteen
days on the Great Colorado in midsummer, had burned themselves into my
memory, and I made an inward vow that nothing would ever force me into
such a situation again. I did not stop to really think; I only felt, and
my only feeling was a desire to get cool and to get out of the Territory
in some other way and at some cooler season. How futile a wish, and how
futile a vow!

Dellenbaugh, who was with Powell in 1869 in his second
expedition down the river in small boats, has given to the
world a most interesting account of this wonderful river and
the canons through which it cuts its tempestuous way to the
Gulf of California, in two volumes entitled "The Romance of
the Great Colorado" and "A Canon Voyage".

We bade good-bye to our gallant river captain and watched the great
stern-wheeler as she swung out into the stream, and, heading up river,
disappeared around a bend; for even at that time this venturesome pilot
had pushed his boat farther up than any other steam-craft had ever
gone, and we heard that there were terrific rapids and falls and unknown
mysteries above. The superstition of centuries hovered over the "great
cut," and but few civilized beings had looked down into its awful
depths. Brave, dashing, handsome Jack Mellon! What would I give and
what would we all give, to see thee once more, thou Wizard of the Great
Colorado!

We turned our faces towards the Mojave desert, and I wondered, what
next?

The Post Surgeon kindly took care of us for two days and nights, and we
slept upon the broad pi