Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/canyonofarigrandOOchicrich The GRAND CANYON of ARIZONA ^ BEING A BOOK OF WORDS FROM MANY PENS, ABOUT THE GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO RIVER IN ARIZONA. Published by the Passenger Department of the Santa Fe. 1906. 7 K t l-f ^M\t.in. In a threatening attitude they came out to meet me; being unarmed myself I spoke to them by bidding them good-day and making some pleasant remark, but not until I had heard the woman say to the man, "Don't shoot, he's all right." I entered into a conversation with them and they invited me to eat melons, which I did with gusto, and we parted with expressions of good will — for they seemed very much interested in my explorations and came down to the river to see me off. In subsequent years I renewed the acquaintance and learned their history. This was John D. Lee and his wife Emma. John D. Lee is well known as a man who was executed for the part he took in the Mountain Meadow Massacre. I need not say more of him than that he was a man of very remarkable character, exceedingly devout and willing to die for the Mormon religion, for which, from the standpoint of his friends, he fell a martyr. His wife was a convert to the religion of the Latter Day Saints in England, or perhaps in Wales, and came to this country as a Mormon immigrant. She was a member of a party that went from the Missouri River to Salt Lake with handcarts. She was an athlete, and as she expressed it to me at one time, she could "whip her weight in wild- cats" — a figure of speech which she got from the Mormon pioneers. She speedily developed great skill in the use of the rifle, and on the march she was detailed with the 23 THE SCIENTIFIC EXPLORER. J. W. POWELL, hunters to kill game, such as buffalo, antelope, deer, sheep and the many game-birds found on the plains, and her success as a hunter relieved her of the toil of pushing a cart. On reaching Salt Lake City she became one of the wives of John D. Lee and went with him on missionary work to the frontier settlements, where she lived to some extent among the Indians. Subsequently she fled with her husband into the depths of the canyon region. This was after the Mountain Meadow Massacre was investigated by the general government, and the pair naturally went for prudential reasons. After his surrender she was true to him in his imprisonment, and wrote him letters of encouragement and received letters from him. Some time after his death she married a ranchman from southern California who brought a herd of horses into the valley of the Paria. With him she migrated to Arizona, where the pair kept a boarding house for men who were building the Atlantic & Pacific Railroad. Finally they settled at Holbrook and built a hotel. When I was there last she was still keeping the hotel, but the majestic woman with piercing eyes and beautiful form — the herculean Venus — was now older and somewhat corpulent. MARBLE CANYON. Above the Paria the great river runs down a canyon which it has cut through one plateau. On its way it flows with comparative quiet through beautiful scenery, with glens that are vast amphitheaters which often overhang great springs and ponds of water deeply embosomed in the cliffs. From the southern escarpment of this plateau the great Colorado Plateau rises by a comparatively gentle acclivity, and Marble Canyon starts A BRIEF REST, BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL. Photio, a. L. Bom. 24 THE SCIENTIFIC EXPLORER. , J. W. POWELL. with walls but a few score feet in height until they reach an altitude of about five thousand feet. On the way the channel is cut into beds of rock of lower geologic horizon, or greater geologic age. These rocks are sandstones and limestones. Some beds are very hard, others are soft and friable. The friable rocks wash out and the harder rocks remain projecting from the walls, so that every wall presents a set of stony shelves. These shelves rise along the wall toward the south as new shelves set in from below. In addition to this shelving structure the walls are terraced and the cliffs of the canyon are set back one upon the other. Then these canyon walls are interrupted by side streams which themselves have carved lateral canyons, some small, others large, but all deep. In these side gorges the scenery is varied and picturesque; deep clefts are seen here and there as you descend the river — clefts furnished with little streams along which mosses and other plants grow. At low water the floor of the great canyon is more or less exposed, and where it flows over limestone rocks beautiful marbles are seen in many colors; saffron, pink, and blue prevail. Sometimes a fa9ade or wall appears rising ver- tically from the water for thousands of feet. At last the canyon abruptly ends in a confusion of hills beyond which rise towering cliffs, and the group of hills are nestled in the bottom of a valley-like region which is surrounded by cliffs more than a mile in altitude. THE GRAND CANYON. From here on for many miles the whole character of the canyon changes. First a dike appears; this is a wall of black basalt; crossing the river it is of lava thrust up from below through a huge crevice broken in the rock by earthquake agency. On the east the Little Colorado comes; here it is a river of salt water, and it derives its salt a few miles up the stream. The main Colorado flows along the eastern and south- ern wall. Climbing this for a few hundred feet you may look off toward the northwest and gaze at the cliffs of the Kaibab Plateau. This is the point where we built a trail down a side canyon where Mr. Walcott was to make his winter residence and study of the region; it is very complicated and exhibits a vast series of unconformable rocks of high antiquity. These lower rocks are of many colors; in large part they are shales. The region, which appears to be composed of bright-colored hills washed naked by the rain, is in fact beset with a multitude of winding canyons with their own precipitous walls. It is a region of many canyons in the depths of the Grand Canyon itself. In this beautiful region Mr. Walcott, reading the book of geology, lived in a sum- merland during all of a long winter while the cliffs above were covered with snow which prevented his egress to the world. His companions, three young Mormons, longing for a higher degree of civilization, gazed wistfully at the snow-clad barriers by which they were enclosed. One was a draughtsman, another a herder of his stock and the third his cook. They afterward told me that it was a long winter of homesickness and that months dragged away as years, but Mr. Walcott himself had the great book of geology to read and to him it was a winter of delight. A half dozen miles below the basaltic wall the river enters a channel carved in 800 or a thousand feet of dark gneiss of very hard rock. Here the channel is narrow and very swift and beset with rapids and falls. On the south and southwest the wall rises abruptly from the water to the summit of the plateau for about 6,000 feet, but across the river on the north and west mountains of gneiss and quartzites appear, sometimes 25 THE SCIENTIFIC EXPLORER. J. W. POWELL. rising to the height of a thousand feet. These are mountains in the bottom of a canyon. The buttes and plateaus of the inter-canyon region are composed of shales, sandstones and limestones, which give rise to vast architectural shelving and to pinnacles and towers of gigantic proportions, the whole embossed with a marvelously minute system of fretwork carved by the artistic clouds. Looking beyond these mountains, buttes and plateaus — vistas of the walls of the great plateau are seen. From these walls project salients and deep re-entrant angles appear. The whole scene is forever reminding you of mighty architectural pinnacles and towers and balustrades and arches and columns with lattice work and delicate carving. All of these architectural features are sublime by titanic painting in varied hues — pink, red, brown, lavender, gray, blue and black. In some lights the saffron prevails, in other lights vermilion, and yet in other lights the grays and blacks predominate. At times, and perhaps in rare seasons, clouds and cloudlets form in the canyon below and wander among the side canyons and float higher and higher until they are dissolved in the upper air, or perhaps they accumulate to hide great portions of the landscape. Then through rifts in the clouds vistas of Wonderland are seen. Such is that portion of the canyon around the great south bend of the Colorado River past the point of the Kaibab Plateau. .AS SEEN BY THE GEOLOGIST. In the last chapter of my book entitled "The Canyons of the Colorado" I have described the Grand Canyon in the following terms: The Grand Canyon is a gorge 217 miles in length, through which flows a great river with many storm-born tributaries. It has a winding way, as rivers are wont to have. Its banks are vast structures of adamant, piled up in forms rarely seen in the mountains. Down by the river the walls are composed of black gneiss, slates and schists, all greatly implicated and traversed by dikes of granite. Let this formation be called the black gneiss. It is usually about 800 feet in thickness. Then over the black gneiss are found 800 feet of quartzites, usually in very thin beds of many colors, but exceedingly hard, and ringing under the hammer like phonolite. These beds are dipping and unconformable with the rocks above. While they make but 800 feet of the wall or less they have a geologic thickness of 12,000 feet. Set up a row of books aslant; it is ten inches from the shelf to the top of the line of books, but there may be three feet of the books measured directly through the leaves. So these quartz- ites are aslant, and though of great geologic thickness they make but 800 feet of the wall. Your books may have many-colored bindings and difi-er greatly in their contents; so these quartzites vary greatly from place to place along the wall, and in many places they entirely disappear. Let us call this formation the variegated quartzite. Above the quartzites there are 500 feet of sandstones. They are of a greenish hue, but are mottled with spots of brown and black by iron stains. They usually stand in a bold cliff\, weathered in alcoves. Let this formation be called the cliff sandstone. Above the cliff sandstone there are 700 feet of bedded sandstones and limestones, which are massive sometimes and sometimes broken into thin strata. These rocks are often weathered in deep alcoves. Let this formition be called the alcove sandstone. Over the alcove sandstone there are 1,600 feet of limestone, in many places a beautiful marble, as in Marble Canyon. As it appears along the Grand Canyon it is always stained a brilliant red, for immediately over it there are thin seams of iron, and the storms have 26 THE SCIENTIFIC EXPLORER, J. W. POWELL. painted these limestones with pigments from above. Altogether this is the red-wall group. It is chiefly limestone. Let it be called the red-wall limestone. Above the red wall there are 800 feet of gray and bright red sandstone, alternating in beds that look like vast ribbons of landscape. Let it be called the banded sandstone. And over all, at the top of the wall, is the Aubrey limestone, 1,000 feet in thickness. This Aubrey has much gypsum in it, great beds of alabaster that are pure white in comparison with the great body of limestone below. In the same limestone there are enormous beds of chert, agates and cornelians. This limestone is especially remarkable for its pinnacles and towers. Let it be called the tower limestone. These are the elements with which the walls are constructed, from black buttress below to alabaster tower above. All of these elements weather in different forms and are painted in different colors, so that the wall presents a highly complex fa9ade. A wall of homogeneous granite, like that in the Yosemite, is but a naked wall, whether it be 1,000 or 5,000 feet high. Hundreds and thousands of feet mean nothing to the eye when they stand in a meaningless front. A mountain covered by pure snow 10,000 feet high has but little more effect on the imagination than a mountain of snow 1,000 feet high — it is but more of the same thing — but a fa9ade of seven systems of rock has its sublimity multiplied sevenfold. Fhoto, W, U. Simpson. AT HOPI (ROWE's) point. 27 THE SCIENTIFIC EXPLORER. J. W. POWELL. Consider next the horizontal elements of the Grand Canyon. The river meanders in great curves, which are themselves broken into curves of smaller magnitude. The streams that head far back in the plateau on either side come down in gorges and break the wall into sections. Each lateral canyon has a secondary system of laterals, and the secondary canyons are broken by tertiary canyons; so the crags are forever branching, like the lim.bs of an oak. That which has been described as a wall is such only in its grand effect. In detail it is a series of structures separated by a ramification of canyons, each having its own walls. Thus, in passing down the canyon it seems to be inclosed by walls, but oftener by salients — towering structures that stand between canyons that run back into the plateau. Sometimes gorges of the second or third order have met before reaching the brink of the Grand Canyon, and then great salients are cut off from the wall and stand out as buttes — huge pavilions in the architecture of the canyon. The scenic elements thus described are fused and combined in very different ways. ITS LENGTH. We measured the length of the Grand Canyon by the length of the river running through it, but the running extent of wall cannot be measured in this manner. In the black gneiss, which is at the bottom, the wall may stand above the river for a few hun- dred yards or a mile or two; then to follow the foot of the wall you must pass into a lateral canyon for a long distance, perhaps miles, and then back again on the other side of the lateral canyon; then along by the river until another lateral canyon is reached, which must be headed in the black gneiss. So for a dozen miles of river through the gneiss there may be a hundred miles of wall on either side. Climbing to the summit of the black gneiss and following the wall in the variegated quartzite, it is found to be stretched out to a still greater length, for it is cut with more lateral gorges. In like manner there is yet greater length of the mottled (or alcove) sandstone wall, and the red wall is still farther stretched out in ever branching gorges. To make the distance for ten miles along the river by walking along the top of the red wall it would be necessary to travel several hundred miles. The length of the wall reaches its maximum in the banded sandstone, which is terraced more than any of the other formations. The tower limestone wall is less tortuous. To start at the head of the Grand Canyon on one of the terraces of the banded sandstone and follow it to the foot of the Grand Canyon, which by river is a distance of 217 miles, it would be necessary to travel many thousand miles by the winding way; that is, the banded wall is many thousand miles in length. AS SEEN BY THE ARTIST. The traveler in the region of mountains sees vast masses piled up in gentle declivities to the clouds. To see mountains in this way is to appreciate the masses of which they are composed. But the climber among the glaciers sees the elements of which this mass is composed- -that it is made of cliffs and towers and pinnacles, with intervening gorges, and the smooth billows of granite seen from afar are transformed into cliffs and caves and towers and minarets. These two aspects of mountain scenery have been seized by painters, and in their art two classes of mountains are represented; mountains with towering forms that seem ready to topple in the first storm, and mountains in masses that seem to frown defiance 28 THE SCIENTIFIC EXPLORER. y. W. POWELL, at the tempests. Both classes have told the truth. The two aspects are sometimes caught by our painters severally; sometimes they are combined. Church paints a mountain like a kingdom of glory. Bierstadt paints a mountain cliff where an eagle is lost from sight ere he reaches the summit. Thomas Moran marries these great character- istics, and in his infinite masses, cliffs of immeasurable height are seen. Thus the elements of the fa9ade of the Grand Canyon change vertically and horizon- tally. The details of structure can be seen only at close view, but grand effects of structure can be witnessed in great panoramic scenes. Seen in detail, gorges and preci- pices appear; seen at a distance, in comprehensive views, vast massive structures are presented. The traveler on the brink looks from afar and is overwhelmed with the sub- limity of massive forms; the traveler among the gorges stands in the presence of awful mysteries — profound, solemn and gloomy. AS SEEN TRAVELING DOWN STREAM. For eight or ten miles below the mouth of the Little Colorado, the river is in the variegated quartzites, and a wonderful fretwork of forms and colors, peculiar to this Photo, Putnam tt Valentine, CAMP IN COCONINO FOREST, NEAR POIXT SUBLIME. 29 THE SCIENTIFIC EXPLORER. y. W. POWELL. rock, stretches back for miles to a labyrinth of the red-wall cliff; then below, the black gneiss is entered and soon has reached an altitude of 800 feet and sometimes more than 1,000 feet, and upon this black gneiss all the other structures in their wonderful colors are lifted. These continue for about seventy miles, when the black gneiss below is lost, for the walls are dropped down by the West Kaibab Fault and the river flows in the quartzites. Then for eighty miles the mottled (or alcove) sandstones are found in the river bed. The course of the canyon is a little south of west and is comparatively straight. At the top of the red-wall limestone there is a broad terrace, two or three miles in width, com- posed of hills of wonderful forms carved in the banded beds, and back of this is seen a cliff in the tower limestone. Along the lower course of this stretch the whole character of the canyon is changed by another set of complicating conditions. We have now reached a region of volcanic activity. After the canyons were cut nearly to their present depth, lavas poured out and volcanoes were built on the walls of the canyon, but not in the canyon itself, though at places rivers of molten rock rolled down the walls into the Colorado. The canyon for the next eighty miles is a compound of that found where the river is in the black gneiss and that found where the dead volcanoes stand on the brink of THE VIEW EAST FROM HOPI (rOWE's) POINT. Fkoto, V/. H. Simpson, 30 THE SCIENTIFIC EXPLORER. J. W. POWELL, the wall. In the first stretch, where the gneiss is at the fiaundation, we have a great bend to the south, and in the last stretch, where the gneiss is below and the dead volca- noes above, another great southern detour is found. These two great beds are separated by eighty miles of comparatively straight river. Let us call this first great bend the Kaibab reach of the canyon, and the straight part the Kanab reach, for the Kanab Creek heads far off in the plateau to the north and joins the Colorado at the beginning of the middle stretch. The third great southern bend is the Shiwits stretch. Thus there are three distinct portions of the Grand Canyon : The Kaibab section, characterized more by its buttes and salients; the Kanab section, charac- terized by its comparatively straight walls with volcanoes on the brink, and the Shiwits section, which is broken into great terraces with gneiss at the bottom and volcanoes at the top. THE WORK OF EROSION. The erosion represented in the canyons, although vast, is but a small part of the great erosion of the region, for between the cliffs blocks have been carried away far supe- rior in magnitude to those necessary to fill the canyons. Probably there is no portion of the whole region from which there have not been more than a thousand feet degraded, and there are districts from which more than 30,000 feet of rock have been carried away, altogether there is a district of country more than 200,000 square miles in extent, from which, on the average, more than 6,000 feet have been eroded. Consider a rock 200,000 square miles in extent and a mile in thickness, against which the clouds have hurled their storms, and beat it into sands, and the rills have carried the sands into the creeks, and the creeks have carried them into the rivers, and the Colorado has carried them into the sea. We think of the mountains as forming clouds about their brows, but the clouds have formed the mountains. Great continental blocks are upheaved from beneath the sea by internal geologic forces that fashion the earth. Then the wandering clouds, the tempest- bearing clouds, the rainbow-decked clouds, with mighty power and with wonderful skill, carve out valleys and canyons and fashion hills and cliffs and mountains. The clouds are the artists sublime. WINTER AND CLOUD EFFECTS. In winter some of the characteristics of the Grand Canyon are emphasized. I'he black gneiss below, the variegated quartzite, and the green or alcove sandstone form the foundation for the mighty red wall. The banded sandstone entablature is crowned by the tower limestone. In winter this is covered with snow. Seen from below, these changing elements seem to graduate into the heavens, and no plane of demarcation between wall and blue firmament can be seen. The heavens constitute a portion of the facade and mount into a vast dome from wall to wall, spanning the Grand Canyon with empyrean blue. So the earth and the heavens are blended in one vast structure. When the clouds play in the canyon, as they often do in the rainy season, another set of effects is produced. Clouds creep out of canyons and wind into other canyons. The heavens seem to be alive, not moving as move the heavens over a plain, in one direction with the wind, but following the multiplied courses of these gorges. In this manner the little clouds seem to be individualized, to have wills and souls of their own 31 THE SCIENTIFIC EXPLORER. J. W. POWELL. and to be going on diverse errands — a vast assemblage of self-willed clouds, faring here and there, intent upon purposes hidden in their own breasts. In imagination the clouds belong to the sky, and when they are in the canyon the skies come down into the gorges and cling to the cliffs and lift them up to immeasurable heights, for the sky must still be far away. Thus they lend infinity to the walls. A WORLD OF FORM, COLOR AND MUSIC. The wonders of the Grand Canyon cannot be adequately represented in symbols of speech nor by speech itself. The resources of the graphic art are taxed beyond their powers in attempting to portray its features. Language and illustration combined must fail. The elements that unite to make the Grand Canyon the most sublime spectacle in nature are multifarious and exceedingly diverse. Besides the elements of form there are elements of color, for here the colors of the heavens are rivaled by the colors of the rocks. The rainbow is not more replete with hues. But form and color do not exhaust all the divine qualities of the Grand Canyon. It is the land of music. The river thunders in perpetual roar, swelling in floods of music when the storm gods play upon the rocks, and fading away in soft and low murmurs when the infinite blue of heaven is unveiled. With the melody of the great tide rising and falling, swelling and vanishing forever, other melodies are heard in the gorges of the lateral canyons, while the waters plunge in the rapids among the rocks or leap in great cataracts. Thus the Grand Canyon is a land of song. Mountains of music swell in the rivers, hills of music billow in the creeks and meadows of music murmur in the rills that ripple over the rocks. Altogether it is a symphony of multitudinous melodies. All this is the music of waters. The adamant foundations of the earth have been wrought into a sublime harp, upon which the clouds of the heavens play with mighty tempests or with gentle showers. ITS VASTNESS. The glories and the beauties of form, color and sound unite in the Grand Canyon — forms unrivaled even by the mountains, colors that vie with sunsets, and sounds that span the diapason from tempest to tinkling raindrop, from cataract to bubbling fountain. But more — it is a vast district of country. Were it a valley plain it would make a state. It can be seen only in parts from hour to hour and from day to day and from week to week and from month to month. A year scarcely suffices to see it all. It has infinite variety and no part is ever duplicated. Its colors, though many and complex at any instant, change with the ascending and declining sun; lights and shadows appear and vanish with the passing clouds and the changing seasons mark their passage in changing colors. You cannot see the Grand Canyon in one view, as if it were a changeless spectacle from which a curtain might be lifted, but to see it you have to toil from month to month through its labyrinths. It is a region more difficult to traverse than the Alps or the Himalayas, but if strength and courage are sufficient for the task, by a year's toil a con- cept of sublimity can be obtained never again to be equaled on the hither side of paradise. 32 THE GREATEST THING IN THE WORLD. BY CHARLES F. LUMMIS. Mr. Lummis is editor of the Out West magazine at Los Angeles. He writes books that are read. Volumes like "The Land of Poco Tiempo" and "Strange Corners of Our Country" reveal a man who really knows our immense Southwest from having lived its strenuous life, and who can therefore adequately interpret its deserts and mountains, its people and their customs. He says what he thinks, and thinks his own thoughts in his own way. And the "way" is that of Anglo-Saxon directness. We listen, even if we dissent. Usually we are convinced, but always charmed. Soon after leaving Harvard he walked from Chillicothe, Ohio, to Los Angeles, following for the most part, the Old Santa Fe CHARLES F. LUMMIS. frail. His experiences are vividly told in his volume "A Tramp Across the Continent." His journeys on foot have embraced Old Mexico, South America and every interesting corner, known and unknown, of the semi-arid region. Every Pueblo Indian in New Mexico and Arizona is his friend. He has lived among them, studied them, encouraged them, and best of all, has been to them an example of right living and fair treatment. Lummis' most notable characteristic is his intense Americanism. He believes in America for Americans. Knowing this great Southwest, he has always pleaded to have the tide of eager tourists turn toward it as an unmatched wonderland. Mr. Lummis' account of the greatest thing in the world is here first printed: THE SOUTHWESTERN WONDERLAND. HE greatest thing in the world." That is a large phrase and an overworked one, and hardened travelers do not take it lightly upon the tongue. Noticeably it is most glibly in use with those but lately, and for the first time, wandered beyond their native state or county, and as every province has its own local brag of biggest things, the too credulous tourist will find a superlative every- where. And superlatives are unsafe without wide horizons of comparison. Yet in every sort there is, of course, somewhere "the biggest thing in the world" of its kind. It is a good word, when spoken in season and not abused in careless ignorance. I believe there is and can be no dispute that the term applies literally to several things in the immediate region of the Grand Canyon of Arizona. As I have more than once written (and it never yet has been controverted), probably no other equal area on earth contains so many supreme marvels of so many kinds — so many astounding sights, so many masterpieces of Nature's handiwork, so vast and conclusive an encyclopedia of the world-building processes, so impressive monuments of prehistoric man, so many triumphs of man still in the tribal relation — as what I have called the Southwestern Wonderland. This includes a large part of New Mexico and Arizona, the area which geographically and ethnographically we may count as the Grand Canyon region. Let me mention a few wonders: The largest and by far the most beautiful of all petrified forests, with several hundred square miles whose surface is carpeted with agate chips and dotted with agate trunks two • 33 "/ ^^- § fistm ■-'^^^, S^3^'" ^^^ >?!?"H' ♦ FROM KAIBAB PLATEAU, LOOKING SOUTH. Photo, Putnam it Valentine. THE GREATEST THING IN THE WORLD. C. F. LUMMIS. to four feet in diameter; and just across one valley a buried "forest" whose huge silici- fied — not agatized — logs show their ends under fifty feet of sandstone. The largest natural bridge in the world — 200 feet high, over 500 feet span and over 600 feet wide, up and down stream and with an orchard on its top and miles of stalactite caves under its abutments. The largest variety and display of geologically recent volcanic action in North America; with sixty-mile lava flows, 1,500-foot blankets of creamy tufa cut by scores of canyons; hundreds of craters and thousands of square miles of lava beds, basalt and cinders, and so much "volcanic glass" (obsidian) that it was the chief tool of the pre- historic population. The largest and the most impressive villages of cave-dwellings in the world, most of them already abandoned "when the world-seeking Genoese" sailed. The peerless and many-storied cliff-dwellings — castles and forts and homes in the face of wild precipices or upon their tops — an aboriginal architecture as remarkable as any in any land. The twenty-six strange communal town republics of the descendants of the "cliff-- dwellers," the modern Pueblos; some in fertile valleys, some (like Acoma and Moki) perched on barren and dizzy cliffy tops. The strange dances, rites, dress and customs of this ancient people who had solved the problem of irrigation, six-story house building and clean self-government and even women's rights — long before Columbus was born. The noblest Caucasian ruins in America, north of Mexico — the great stone and adobe churches reared by Franciscan missionaries, near three centuries ago, a thousand miles from the ocean, in the heart of the Southwest. Some of the most notable tribes of savage nomads — like the Navajos, whose blankets and silver work are pre-eminent, and the Apaches, who, man for man have been probably the most successful warriors in history. All these, and a great deal more, make the Southwest a wonderland without a parallel. There are ruins as striking as the storied ones along the Rhine, and far more remarkable. There are peoples as picturesque as any in the Orient, and as romantic as the Aztecs and the Incas of whom we have learned such gilded fables, and there are natural wonders which have no peers whatever. OF THE CANYON, AND OTHER WONDERS. At the head of the list stands the Grand Canyon of the Colorado; whether it is the "greatest wonder of the world" depends a little on our definition of "wonder." Possibly it is no more wonderful than the fact that so tiny a fraction of the people who confess themselves the smartest in the world have ever seen it. As a people we dodder abroad to see scenery incomparably inferior. But beyond peradventure it is the greatest chasm in the world, and the most superb. Enough globe-trotters have seen it to establish that fact. Many have come cynically prepared to be disappointed; to find it overdrawn and really not so stupendous as something else. It is, after all, a hard test that so be-bragged a wonder must endure under the critical scrutiny of them that have seen the earth and the fullness thereof. But I never knew the most self-satisfied veteran traveler to be disappointed in the Grand Canyon, or to patronize it. On the contrary, this is the very class of men who can best comprehend it, and I have seen them fairly break down in its awful presence. 35 THE GREATEST THING IN THE WORLD. C. F. LUMMIS. I do not know the Himalayas except by photograph and the testimony of men who have explored and climbed them, and who found the Grand Canyon an absolutely new experience. But I know the American continents pretty well, and have tramped their mountains, including the Andes — the next highest mountains in the world, after half a dozen of the Himalayas — and of all the famous quebradas of the Andes there is not one that would count five per cent on the Grand Canyon of the Colorado. For all their 25,000-foot peaks, their blue-white glaciers, imminent above the bald plateau, and green little bolsones ("pocket valleys") of Chile, Peru, Bolivia and Ecuador; for all their tre- mendous active volcanoes, like Saugay and Cotopaxi; for all an earthquake activity beside which the "shake" at Charleston, was mere paper-doll play; for all the steepest gradients in the world (and Peru is the only place in the world where a river falls 17,000 feet in 100 miles) — in all that marvelous 3,000-mile procession of giantism there is not one canyon which any sane person would for an instant compare with that titanic gash that the Colorado has chiseled through a comparatively flat upland. Nor is there any- thing remotely approaching it in all the New World. So much I can say at first hand. As for the Old World, the explorer who shall find a gorge there one-half as great will win undying fame. The quebrada of the Apu-Rimac is a marvel of the Andes, with its vertiginous depths and its supension bridge of wild vines. The Grand Canyon of the Arkansas, in Colorado, is a noble little slit in the mountains. The Franconia and White Mountain notches in New Hampshire are beautiful. The Yosemite and the Yellowstone canyons surpass the world, each in its way. But if all of these were hung up on the opposite wall of the Grand Canyon from you the chances are fifty to one that you could not tell t'other from which, nor any of them from the hundreds of other canyons which rib that vast vertebrate gorge. If the falls of Niagara were installed in the Grand Canyon between your visits and you knew it by the newspapers — next time you stood on that dizzy rim- rock you would probably need good field-glasses and much patience before you could locate that cataract which in its place looks pretty big. If Mount Washington were plucked up bodily by the roots — not from where you see it, but from sea-level — and carefully set down in the Grand Canyon, you probably would not notice it next morning, unless its dull colors distinguished it in that innumerable congress of larger and painted giants. All this, which is literally true, is a mere trifle of what might be said in trying to fix a standard of comparison for the Grand Canyon. But I fancy there is no standard adjustable to the human mind. You may compare all you will — eloquently and from wide experience, and at last all similes fail. The Grand Canyon is just the Grand Canyon, and that is all you can say. I never have seen anyone who was prepared for it. I never have seen anyone who could grasp it in a week's hard exploration; nor anyone, except some rare Philistine, who could even think he had grasped it. I have seen people rave over it; better people struck dumb with it; even strong men who cried over it; but I have never yet seen the man or woman that expected it. It adds seriously to the scientific wonder and the universal impressiveness of this unparalleled chasm that it is not in some stupendous mountain range, but in a vast, arid, lofty floor of nearly 100,000 square miles — as it were, a crack in the upper story of the continent. There is no preparation for it. Unless you had been told, you would no more dream that out yonder amid the pines the flat earth is slashed to its very bowels, than you would expect to find an iceberg in Broadway. With a very ordinary running 36 THE GREATEST THING IN THE WORLD. C. F. LUMMIS. jump from the spot where you get your first ghmpse of the canyon vou could go down 2,000 feet without touching. It is sudden as a well. But it is no mere cleft. It is a terrific trough 6,000 to 7,000 feet deep, ten to twenty miles wide, hundreds of miles long, peopled with hundreds of peaks taller than any mountain east of the Rockies, yet not one of them with its head so high as your feet, and all ablaze with such color as no eastern or European landscape ever knew, even in the Alpen-glow, And as you sit upon the brink the divine scene-shifters give you a new canyon every hour. With each degree of the sun's course the great countersunk mountains we have been watching fade away, and new ones, as terrific, are carven by the westering shadows. It is like a dissection of the whole cosmogony. And the purple shadows, the dazzling lights, the thunderstorms and snowstorms, the clouds and the rainbows that shift and drift in that vast subterranean arena below your feet! And amid those enchanted towers and castles which the vastness of the scale leads you to call "rocks," but which are in fact as big above the river-bed as the Rockies from Denver, and bigger than Mount Washington from Fabyan's or the GlenJ IN CONCLUSION. The Grand Canyon country is not only the hugest, but the most varied and instruc- tive example on earth of one of the chief factors of earth-building — erosion. It is the mesa country — the Land of Tables. Nowhere else on the footstool is there such an example of deep-gnawing water or of water high-carving. The sandstone mesas of the Southwest, the terracing of canyon walls, the castellation, battlementing and cliff-making, the cutting down of a whole landscape except its precipitous islands of flat-topped rock, the thin lava table-cloths on tables 100 feet high — these are a few of the things which make the Southwest wonderful alike to the scientist and the mere sight-seer. That the canyon is not "too hard" is perhaps sufficiently indicated by the fact that I have taken thither ladies and children and men in their seventies, when the easiest way to get there was by a seventy-mile stage ride, and that at six years old my little girl walked all the way from rim to bottom of canyon and came back on a horse the same day, and was next morning ready to go on a long tramp along the rim. r T5w~lir 'i:99, bv H. a. Peabody. Plate III. View in the canyon, showing the great terrace at the level of the Cambrian formation. 79 GEOLOGT OF THE GRAND CANTON. R. D. SALISBURT. can now be estimated. To allow so great erosion, the uplift preceding must have been at least equally great. THE SECOND UPLIFT. Later, about the end of the Miocene, as nearly as now known, the erosion plain suf- fered further elevation. One result of this uplift was to give the streams greater velocity, and so to increase their erosive power. In the uplifted plain the Colorado cut its valley about 3,000 feet below the plateau level, down to the level of the great terrace (Fig. 5) which now forms the upper edge of the inner canyon. By the time this level had been reached the stream had become so sluggish that its downward cutting was slight. The valley however, continued to grow wider. The result was the development of the outer canyon of the Colorado, several miles in width. This period of erosion seems to have corresponded very nearly with the Pliocene period. The time necessary to excavate this broad valley was notably less than that needed to reduce the earlier surface to a base-level, but it was probably longer, relatively, than might at first appear, for while it was being cut the climate was probably dry like that of to-day. This is indicated by the fewness of the valleys tributary to the main canyon. Had the Plate I. Vishnu's Temple. A detail of erosion in the Grand Canyon. of the United States Geological Survey. 80 Taken from monograph GEOLOGT OF THE GRAND CANTON. R. D. SALISBURT. climate been humid, tributary valleys would have been far more numerous. The arid condition seems to have come in with the uplift of the plain which had been developed by the close of the Miocene. THE THIRD UPLIFT. Still later, about the close of the Pliocene period, the region was again uplifted to the extent of 2,000 or 3,000 feet, and the river, having its velocity again accelerated, began to cut a new and narrow valley in the bottom of its older and wider one. Since that time the river has made the inner gorge of the canyon (Fig, 5 and Plate II) 1,500 to 2,000 feet in depth, and the downward cutting is still in progress. When the stream shall have cut its channel so low that its current becomes sluggish, it will cease to cut downward, but the widening of the gorge will still continue. The cutting of the inner gorge has occurred in times which, geologically speaking, are very recent. It seems to be the work of the closing stages of the Pliocene and the Pleistocene periods, and these periods are probably much shorter than any of the earlier ones recognized in the classification. Faulting. Faulting (Fig. i) has been an element in the development of the present topography of the region. The faulting appears to have begun with the first great uplift after the early Eocene, but the earlier faulting had little influence on present topography. The faulting which accompanied the uplift at the close of the Miocene (i. e., the uplift which brought the plain of erosion into the position of a plateau) is probably the oldest Photo, Putnam & Valentine PINNACLES AT HEAD OF SHINUMO, NORTH SIDE OF CANV'ON. 81 GEOLOGT OF THE GRAND CANTON. R. D. SALTS BURT. faulting which is now reflected in the topography, particularly of the region north of the canyon. In the later uplift, faulting along the same lines may have been continued. Volcanic Action. The volcanic formations of the region are probably all of Ceno- zoic age, though the oldest may be late Cretaceous. The volcanic forces had become active before the close of the Eocene, for volcanic ash is one of the constituents of the Eocene lake beds north of the canyon. The older lava beds, like that which caps Red Butte, seem to have flowed out long before the end of the period of great erosion which developed the relatively level surface of the plateau. It is to the protecting influence of such lava beds, which resist erosion more effectively than the sedimentary rock of the region, that many remnants of Permian and Triassic strata owe their preservation. The greater extrusions of lava seem to have occurred before the close of the Miocene, but volcanic activity continued on a diminishing scale up to very recent time. During the later stages of vulcanism of the region, the material ejected seems to have been largely in the form of cinders (lava fragments) rather than lava flows. The youngest of the lava flows, as well as many of the cinder cones, are so fresh that they must be thought to date from the Pleistocene period. The finest of the recent volcanic cones as well as the best examples of recent lava flows are in the vicinity of Sunset Mountain, within easy reach of Flagstafi\ Some of them are so fresh that they must date from the yesterday of geology. At few points on our continent are recent volcanic phenomena so well exhibited and so readily accessible. From the top of Sunset Mountain scores of recent cinder cones are readily seen, and from the top of San Francisco Peaks, the most easily accessible of their height (nearly 13,000 feet) on the continent, a great range of volcanic phenomena as well as one of the most impressive panoramas of the world may be seen. ARIZONA INDIANS IN VICINITY OF GRAND CANYON. Photo, W. H. Simpson. 82 NAT M. BRIGHAM. THE WITCHERY OF IT ALL. BY NAT M. BRIG HA M. One of the most ardent admirers of the Grand Canyon is the well-known lecturer on "Strange Corners of Our Country." Mr. Brigham is eloquent in his belief that the people of the East little realize the extent and character of the scenic wonders of the undeveloped West. With this in view he began lecturing five years ago. Many critics esteem him a worthy successor of Stoddard in the travel- lecture field. His repertoire includes: "The Grand Canyon of Arizona," "The Land of the Snake Dance," "The Apache Warpath," and "Coronado to Kit Carson." By permission of Mr. Brigham, we insert the following extracts from his deservedly popular lecture on the Grand Canyon: IT SLEEPS AND DREAMS. lUT you should look upon its glories when the moonlight falls upon the wait- ing earth. How that old canyon sleeps and dreams! Even the life that seemed to pulse across the dreary wastes at noonday is still. The tumbling river subsides. The miles on miles of mighty cliffs sleep, and sleep again. Shadowy types of temples, weird and ancient — huge altars, wrapped in mystic trappings, fantastic groupings — start into life. Niches and corners which by day were bare and meaningless, now hold figures that startle you. River and mountain, cliff and wall are lifted into glory, and this whole vast upland, which by day may have repelled you because of the agony of the ages, now lies in dreamful slumber, pure, white and still as a nun at her prayers, and as far as the eye can reach you may behold this whole stupendous waste lifted into a glory like unto the glory of paradise. * ''' * The question often comes — Are not the blue of the sky, the crimson of the rock, the amber of the* clouds intensified in these color views? My answer is — Who but God could paint the sky, could stain the rock, could hold the amber giants swinging in the air? A thousand times have I heard the beholder exclaim: "No tongue can describe it." Am I myself unduly moved? Possibly. But I love nature. She has not a mood OLD CAMP OF FOREST RANGER AT ROWE S WELLS. 83 THE WITCHERT OF IT ALL. NAT M. BRIGHAM. that does not woo me. From • boyhood the scent of the violet would disquiet me. The odor of our New England mayflower would summon up an endless trail of holiest memories. The silence and scent of the deep wildwood would thrill me deeper than any strain of music. You could not dream then how this labyrinth of chasms allured me — its unfathom- able shadows, moving in resistless majesty; its amphitheaters swelling out, until in fancy they are peopled with form of temple and tower and town; the illusive haze that cloaks its myriad peaks; the royal purple of its shadows; its miles of color bands, and every band an age; its mile-deep walls, red with a passion sublime, reaching from this puny age of ours back to that mystic period when the waiting earth first quickened in the throbbing womb of time. The miracle of a sunrise that floods the unanswering wastes until the far reaching line of cliff^s seems floating in the rising tide of a crimson sea. The carnage of a sunset that with blood-red banners marches resistless over the ruined wastes of cities until the distant watch towers flash defiance, then signal defeat, then sink back into the night, until the far-flung line of battlements goes down in the unequal struggle and this great underworld grows black in sullen wonder. The witchery of a night that tips with unearthly light the slowly emerging forms you have known by day, bringing within hailing distance the dim outlines of the thither rim; the night that consorts with the very clouds of heaven to bring a mimic sky to earth; the night that woos the sighing pine and the bending stars; the night that bids the crescent moon bend low to bid you wait her fullness, what time in full-orbed splendor she swings resistless above this world-old scene, until in fancy your vision sweeps the fields where the nations of the earth have bivouacked, folded in such deep silence that neither the morning sun nor the trumpeter of God could rouse them from their lethal slumber. The infinite hush of it all! The mirage of the City Celestial! JOHN HANCE S OLD LOG CABIN, Photi,, If. //. >,»i;... 84 AMERICAN ART AND AMERICAN SCENERY. BY THOMAS MORAN. Thomas Moran, the great artist, is now sixty-eight years old. Ever since his first trip to Europe, in 1862, he has held a com- manding position among American landscape painters and etchers. He is to-day, in his studio at Easthampton, Long Island, busy with new pictures which are as powerful and as charming in form and color as any of his earlier successes. Mr. Moran has perhaps achieved his most notable triumphs with American subjects — particularly Rocky Mountain scenery. Two of his masterpieces, The Yellowstone Canyon, and The Grand Canyon of Arizona, are hung in the national capitol at Washington. In the earlysummer of 1 901, accompanied by Geo. Inness, Jr., and Geo. H. McCord, he revisited the Grand Canyon. An article written shortly after that memorable trip is first printed herein. The topic — "America for Americans" — is a favorite one with him. THOMAS MORAN. tkioto, W, H, Simpsun. JOHN HAXCE, THOS. MORAN, GEO. INNESS, JR., AND G. H. M CORD. 85 AME RICAN ART AND AMERICAN SCENERT. THOS. MO RAN. T has often occurred to me as a curious and anomalous fact, that American artists are prone to seek the subjects for their art in foreign lands, to the almost entire exclusion of their own. This disposition is, perhaps, attributable to a prevailing idea that to reach and see the pictorial wealth of the far southwest, involves much time, hardship, expense, and above all, dangers that do not really exist; for it is easier in every way to visit this land of color, sunshine and magnificent scenery than to go to Europe, and much more comfortable traveling. Another reason alleged by many artists why our own great country has been neglected is, that the grand in nature is not paintable; that is, not suited to pictorial representation. This idea is, I think, due to the influence of foreign teaching, especially of the French school, where most of our American art students receive their training. This school of painting, in landscape, has never aimed at anything beyond what might be called the pastoral; that is, a quiet poplar-lined riverside, or a bit of swampy ground reflecting a few trees under the gray and colorless skies of their country. This pastoral landscape seems to have satisfied the ambition of their best painters; and perhaps it could not be otherwise, as men will paint best that which they know best and are most in sympathy with. NATIONALISM IN ART. That there is a nationalism in art needs no proof. It is bred from a knowledge of and sympathy with their surroundings, and no foreigner can imbue himself with the spirit of a country not his own. Therefore he should paint his own land. The English have painted England as nobody but an Englishman could. The same can be said of the French, the Dutch, the Spanish, and so on. Our countrymen seem to ignore this fact. They go abroad to study and return laden with the foreign idea, and unthinkingly settle down to imitating as near as they can the subjects, style and method of their masters. Instead of seeking their subjects and inspiration in their own land and applying their technical skill in the production of works national in character, they seem to devote themselves to imitations of foreign masters, and many even find it necessary to make occasional trips abroad to lay in a fresh stock of ideas for imitation. Before America can pretend to a position in the world of art it will have to prove it, through a characteristic nationality in its art, and our artists can only do this by painting their own country, making use of all the technical skill and knowledge they may have acquired in the schools of Europe and the study of the art of the past. I have been led to these reflections through my familiarity with the scenery of our own unrivaled country from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. There is no phase of landscape in which we are not richer, more varied and interesting than any country in the world. ARTISTIC FUTURE OF AMERICANS. On a recent visit to the Grand Canyon of Arizona I was more than ever convinced that the future of American art lies in being true to our own country, in the interpreta- tion of that beautiful and glorious scenery with which nature has so lavishly endowed our land. 86 AMERICAN ART AND AMERICAN SCENERT. THOS. MORAN. It is not my purpose to undertake any description of this awe inspiring and exqui- sitely beautiful gorge, a whole country in itself. That has been done by many writers, notably by Mr. C. A. Higgins, whose word picture of the great canyon is a poem, and to my thinking the best that has been written. Of all places on earth the great canyon of Arizona is the most inspiring in its pictorial possibilities. My chief desire is to call the attention of American landscape painters to the unlimited field for the exercise of their talents to be found in this enchanting south- western country; a country flooded with color and picturesqueness, offering everything to inspire the artist, and stimulate him to the production of works of lasting interest and value. This Grand Canyon of Arizona, and all the country surrounding it, offers a new and comparatively untrodden field for pictorial interpretation, and only awaits the men of original thoughts and ideas to prove to their countrymen that we possess a land of beauty and grandeur with which no other can compare. The pastoral painter, the painter of picturesque genre, the imaginative and dramatic landscapist are here offered all that can delight the eye, or stir the imagination and emotions. With truth and perceptions of a poet, Mr. Higgins has described the canyon as "An inferno swathed in soft celestial fires, unflinchingly real, yet spectral as a dream. It is the soul of Michael Angelo, and of Beethoven." Its forests of cedar and pine interspersed with aspens and dwarfish oak are weird in the extreme; its tremendous architecture fills one with wonder and admiration, and its color, forms and atmosphere are so ravishingly beautiful, that, however well traveled one may be, a new world is opened to him when he gazes into the Grand Canyon of Arizona. Photo, U. WluL. U. S. INDIAN AGENCY IN CATARACT L. 87 DAVID STARR JORDAN. rHE LAND OF PATIENCE. BY PRESIDENT DA VID STARR JORDAN. Several seasons ago a company of California educators, under the lead of Charles F. Lummis, editor of "Out West," visited the Grand Canyon by way of Flagstaff. One of the members thereof was Dr. David Starr Jordan, President of Stanford University. He published a brief account of the trip in Mr. Lummis' magazine, taking as his theme the novel one of the infinite lazi- ness of this corner of the world. A deep student of nature. President Jordan is not a man to be carried away or unduly impressed by any of her strange workings, and his calm analysis of the greatest work of erosion is of special interest. His impressions are submitted as the latest word of a busy man on a big theme : THE OLD REPOSE. OT its grandeur and beauty, its weird magnificence, its sublime supremacy; all the world knows this. But it impressed me not the less through its infinite laziness. While the rest of the earth's crust has been making history and scenery with all the great earth-molding forces steadily at work, this corner of the world for ten thousand centuries and more has rested in the sun. While mountains were folding and continents taking form, this land of patience lay beneath a warm and shallow sea, the extension of the present Gulf of California. For centuries untold its sands piled up layer on layer. When at last the uplift of the Sierras changed the sands to dry land, then the forces of erosion began and the sands were torn away as sleepily as they had been deposited before. A mile or two in vertical depth had been stripped away from the whole surface, leaving only flat-topped buttes here and there to testify to the depth of the ancient strata. The flinty limestones half-way down interposed their resistance. The swift river from the glacial mountains which had done this work narrowed its bounds and applied itself more strictly to its business. Cutting at last through the flinty stone, it made quick work of the shales beneath it, and dropping swiftly from level to level, it is now at work on the granite core of the earth at the bottom. THE RIVER WORKED ALONE. Even in this it has made fair progress, but the river has done all this alone. No ice, nor frost, nor earthquake, nor volcanic force has left its mark on the canyon. Ice would have made a lake of it. Frosts would have changed its cliffs to slopes. Earthquakes would have crumbled its walls, and volcanoes would have smeared them with lava. But none of these forces came to mar or help. In the simplest, easiest and laziest fashion rocks were deposited in the first place. In the simplest, easiest and laziest fashion they have been torn up again, and a view from the canyon rim almost anywhere shows at a glance how it was all done. 88 CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER. ON THE BRINK OF rHE CANTON BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER. In the popular travel book written by the beloved American author, Charles Dudley Warner, entitled "Our Italy" (published and copyright, 1892, by Harper & Brothers'), occurs a chapter on the Grand Canyon. Mr. Warner visited Arizona on his way to California a decade ago. He ventured the long ride from Flagstaff and achieved the rare distinction of being the first noted American author to tell the world about the greatest thing in it. By per- mission of the publishers a few extracts from his canyon article are appended. They reveal, as do Mr. Warner's other writings, a scholarly temperament keenly appreciative of Nature's handi- work and peculiarly susceptible to the subtle charm of scenery like that of our southwestern wonderland. He says: THE MAGNIFICENCE OF IT. HE whole magnificence broke upon us. No one could be prepared for it. The scene is one to strike dumb with awe or to unstring the nerves; one might stand in silent astonishment, another would burst into tears. There are some experiences that cannot be repeated — one's first view of Rome, one's first view of Jerusalem. But those emotions are produced by association, by the sudden standing face to face with the scenes most wrought into our whole life and education by tradition and religion. This was without association as it was without parallel. It was a shock so novel that the mind, dazed, quite failed to com- prehend it. All that we could grasp was a vast confusion of amphitheaters and strange architectural forms resplendent with color. The vastness of the view amazed us quite as much as its transcendent beauty. * * =;= Turning suddenly to the scene from another point of view, I experienced for a moment an indescribable terror of nature, a confusion of mind, a fear to be alone in such a presence. With all this grotesqueness and majesty of form and radiance of color, creation seemed in a whirl. * * * CITY OF THE IMAGINATION. I was continually likening this to a vast city rather than a landscape, but it was a city of no man's creation nor of any man's conception. In the visions which inspired or crazy painters have had of the New Jerusalem, of Babylon the Great, of a heaven in the atmosphere with endless perspective of towers and steeps that hang in the twilight sky, the imagination has tried to reach this reality. But here are effects beyond the artist, forms the architect has not hinted at. * * * It is a city, but a city of the imagination. It was long before I could comprehend the vastness of the view, see the enormous chasms and rents and seams, and the many architectural ranges separated by great gulfs between me and the wall of the mesa twelve miles distant. * * * An adequate Niagara here should be at least three miles in breadth and fall 2,000 feet over one of these walls. And the Yosemite, ah! the lovely Yosemite! Dumped down into this 89 ON THE BRINK OF THE CANTON. C. D. WARNER. wilderness of gorges and mountains it would take a guide who knew its existence a long time to find it. * * * It reverses mountaineering to descend 6,000 feet for a view, and there is a certain pleasure standing on a mountain summit without the trouble of climbing it. * * * It is a great innovation in the modern ideas of scenery. To the eye educated to any other it may be shocking, grotesque, incomprehensible; but those who have long and carefully studied the Grand Canyon do not hesitate to pronounce it by far the most sub- lime of all earthly spectacles. * * * The reader will find the story of the making of the Grand Canyon more fascinating than any romance. Without knowing this story, the impression that one has in looking on this scene is that of immense antiquity, hardly anywhere else on earth so overwhelm- ing as here. It has been here in all its lovely grandeur and transcendent beauty, exactly as it is, for what to us is an eternity, unknown, unseen by human eye. '^' * '^ It is only within a quarter of a century that the Grand Canyon has been known to the civi- lized world. It is scarcely known now. It is a world largely unexplored. Those who best know it are most sensitive to its awe and splendor. It is never twice the same. * * * Travelers from the wide world will flock thither, for there is revealed the long-kept secret, the unique achievement of nature. RUINS OF CLIFF DWELLINGS, WALNUT CANYON, ARIZONA. 90 Photo, O. L. lit A RHAPSODY BY ''FITZ-MAC" FITZ-JAMES MACCARTHY. At Colorado Springs, in the shadow of Pike's Peak, lives a man who writes short tales of the West under the pen name of "Fitz-Mac" — made from the first part of each of his names. He likes a story and can tell one well. His style is irresist- . ibly free; his writings bright, breezy and buoyant. He is a "past master" in word painting, and in his romances of the Rockies gets close to Nature. By profession Mr. MacCarthy is a journalist. Writing one June day from the Grand Canyon to his home paper, the Colo- rado Springs Gazette, he opened up his own heart and laid bare some of those personal impressions which come to us all, but which are elusive and rarely coined into words. His letter is a careful study of the emotions which this abysmal chasm produces: A GEOLOGICAL APOCALYPSE. HIS Grand Canyon of Arizona is the most stupendous and astounding of all the natural wonders of the earth — and of all earth's natural wonders the latest and the least known. It is a geological apocalypse, half mystery and half revelation. It is at once the most awful and the most irresistible thing I have ever beheld. It is a paradox of chaos and repose, of gloom and radiance, of immeasurable desolation and enthralling beauty. It is a despair and a joy; a woe and an ecstasy; a requiem and a hallelujah; a world-ruin and a world-glory — everything in antithesis of such titanic sort. Grotesque architectural forms (ancient water-carvings), hundreds of miles of them, loom gigantic and phantasmal through the half-concealing, half-revealing veil of chromatic mist that hangs upon the stupendous spectacle. It is Nature with her flesh cast off reclin- ing in her bones with a drapery of rainbows and smiling at Time and Death, puissant enemies of man's inquisitiveness and divine ambition. Yet it is only a chasm in this wide, mid-mountain desert, or semi-desert, of Utah and Arizona — a chasm as crooked as a raveled thread of yarn and seven hundred miles long in zigzag measurement. And in that chasm, more than a perpendicular mile below the rim of the plain from which we glimpse its shining surface as a mere ribbon of water in the far and deep perspective, is a surging, plunging, grinding river, deep enough to be navigated a thousand miles but for the rocky rapids and plunging cataracts that obstruct — a river whose ancient banks it is thirteen miles between, and through whose channel a rising continent slowly poured the waters of a vast inland sea which covered "the great basin" of Utah, lower Idaho, Nevada and part of Colorado some millions of years ago. Between those far-echoing banks, all the phantasmal forms of rock mentioned before, carved by the rushing, sand-laden waters — towers, domes and columns titanic, based in the abyss, carved from the top downward, through thousands of feet of soft or vitreous sandstones, through thousands more of marbleized limes, through other thousands (or perhaps only hundreds) of adamantine granites. And the massive colors radiating from these rocks as heat radiates, and blending in the silent, lonesome atmosphere of the desert and the abyss into a very miracle of chromatic glory — what an unparalleled spectacle! 91 A RHAPSODY. ''FITZ-MACr Oh, the awful grandeur of it ! Oh, the unique, the fearful, the mysterious, the irresistible charm ! It is a spectacle that speaks to the soul of the sensitive and enlightened beholder with the tongues of a million — of multi-million — years. A THOUGHT-COMPELLING SCENE. What a thought-compelling scene ! What a commentary on time and motion and the patient, resistless will of world-forming nature ! A few inches — not many certainly — has this river of the desert by the suave but ceaseless grinding of its waters, lowered its bed in the adamantine granite since that yesterday, four thousand years or more ago, when the Ptolemies were building their pyramid-tombs on the banks of the Nile; and yet a thousand millions of Ptolemy-tombs would not fill ten miles of this abyss ! But Time is Nature's servant while man is Time's. Shrive yourself, oh gabbling and exclamatory seeker of wonders; smite your breast with the clinched hand and cry Peccavi! Peccavi! oh, ye wearied and wearisome trotters of the round and wondrous globe, if hither ye are coming to bathe your fretted and satiated spirits in the red and yellow silences of this abysmal scene. Shrive yourselves, ere you approach, of all your little, vainglorious conceits, of all your pretty, gabbling, rhetorical formulas of exclamatory ecstasy. They have served you well enough, no doubt, to voice the whole gamut of your delight, surprise and amazement in the presence of such noble and pleasing wonders as Niagara, Yosemite, Yellowstone, or even the Alps; but such safe and well-authorized exclamations as "magnificent," "grand," "sublime," have only a puny and altogether inadequate relation to the emotions that will be stirred within you by the appalling grandeurs of this stupendous chasm. Here such rhapsodi- cal exclamations do not fit. They will not half go round the girth of your amazement. They are altogether inadequate, and if you utter them they will sound even to your own ears petty and almost meaningless. If you be only the common-place, amiable, chatter- ing, inquisitive globe-trotter and searcher-out of wonders, pause as you approach and remove the sandals from your feet as one who hath sinned goeth up into the holy places of the Lord seeking absolution. For you have sinned, oh, amiable globe-trotter, by rashly denying the power of nature to surprise you again; to astonish, to amaze, to thrill, to overawe, to subdue and reduce to silence your puerile, self-deceiving, exclamatory ecstasy by the tragic spectacle of devastation immeasureable, and by the bewildering mystery of splendors unique, resistless and overwhelming which Chaos hath wrought and here hidden away in the bosom of this wide, mid-mountain desert. ITS VASTNESS. Here you might lose a hundred Yosemites and never be able to find them again. Here a dozen Niagaras would form but minor details in the stupendous scene. You might scatter the whole mass of the Alps through the 300 miles of this abysmal chasm in Arizona without filling it up — 700 miles in total length, but not throughout of such sublimity as here. Who can adequately describe the scene? — who can describe the indescribable? In its stupendous ensemble the spectacle is too vast for art. It is indeed almost too much for human thought. You cannot behold it for the first time without a gasp, how- ever blase your emotions have become by globe-trotting. There is a spirit of cosmic tragedy, of divine woe, in the scene which sends a diffused pain through the emotions 92 A RHAPSODT. "FITZ-MACr while yet you are enraptured by its beauty. And the sublime pathos in it all, no art, I think, can touch — or scarcely touch, for on reflection I am not sure but Moran's noble picture does strongly suggest it. It is this divine woe in the scene that presses the unconscious sob from your breast, you know not why, as you gaze. IN NEED OF SYMPATHY. It is not the matchless immensity of it, I think, that overcomes you, but that your senses cannot quite encompass and analyze its unique and elusive quality. This great impassive thing that frightens you by its appalling immensity, that enthralls your imag- ination by the magic of its matchless beauty, that bewilders and mystifies your senses by the vague suggestion of fragrance and melody in its gorgeous purples, and by the vast, echoless silences of its Pompeiian reds and yellows, is inexorable and unresponsive to your puny emotions. That is what fills you with a nameless longing, a divine regret. That is what makes you sob unconsciously as you gaze off into the abysmal, chromatic splendors of the scene. Your soul hungers for a sympathy which the great spectacle is too impassive, too inexorable, to yield. The inexorable always affects us like that in our psychic moods. The generous mind receives always a sensation of diffused pain from any spectacle or any emotion that baffles complete expression, and the divine pathos of this is as undefinable, as inexorable, v.s resistless as death — and as lovely as the hope of life everlasting. Is it the sympathy of one sense with another (it must be that) which beguiles the reason into belief that the colors in this ravishing, chromatic maze are endued with the magic of melody and odor? This is something not to be insisted on, nor denied; you feel it or (for you) it is not so. Of course if you are hopelessly sane you do not feel anything of the kind. THE WORLD'S SUBLIMEST TRAGEDY. It behooves you, oh, you of the soulless kodak and the loquacious guide-book, to come meekly and with bared feet into the presence of this wonder that dwarfs all other wonders of the world, for it is here and not elsewhere that Nature has done her utter- most; here a world's sublimest tragedy was enacted — is still enacting with all scenes set; a tableau vivant, a glorified despair, a divine woe; gorgeous, mysterious and abysmal; a triumph of chaos and devastation ; yet not ghastly and forbidding, strange to say, but THROUGH THE PINES, FLAGSTAFF TO WALNUT CANYON. 94 A RHAPSODT. '*FITZ-MACr fascinating, for this imperial tragedy is not set amidst ignoble and plebeian scenes, but is draped and curtained with all the massive and imposing dignity of Pompeiian reds and yellows; with all the imperial magnificence of the Tyrian purple; with all the gorgeous splendors of orange hues vanishing into violet, that go with a tropical sunset; with amber-greenish lights that belong to the creeping break of dawn — and all these, the massive, the gorgeous, the magnificent, the sensuous, the brilliant, the mellow, the tender, swept and swirled by great Nature's unerring brush into a ravishing, harmonious, chro- matic revelation that bursts upon the view with an effect as if the skies had opened and all the choirs of heaven had broken into a grand and joyful overture, an allegro through which runs a vague but penetrating minor chord of woe. MORAN'S INTERPRETATION. Hither, to this point of the chasm whence I am writing, long ago came Thomas Moran, the painter, and painted for the people of the United States that great scene which hangs in the capitol, and which only a few can as yet appreciate — the few who have beheld the wonderful spectacle. All others are bound to regard it as a luxurious lotus-dream of color and mystery. Moran's great picture tells the truth as one sees the truth, gazing upon the scene with the poet's eyes and feeling its frightful grandeur with a poet's soul. Any other conception of it is worse than nothing — measurements, calculations, note-book loquacity, kodak mementos, all these vulgarize the impression of a thing too stupendous and too completely unique to furnish the mind with any direct and definite expression; and no one, save only Moran — certainly no artist of the pen — has found even approximate expression for the unique splendors, the fascination and the awe of this unparalleled scene. But for a truth the finest effects here are altogether uncommunicable by brush or pen. They give themselves up only to the personal presence, and no painter or writer can do more than suggest what they are by indicating how they make him feel. You cannot paint a silence, nor a sound, nor an odor, nor an emotion, nor a sob. If you are skillful you may suggest them to the imagination but that is all, and Moran's fine picture does that admirably. It gives one sublime glimpse of that mysterious and abysmal repose, one irresistible suggestion of those vast and sublime silences, one amazing flash of that marvelous scheme of color, suggesting melody and fragrance. And that is all which human skill can convey by brush or pen. This is certainly no scene to be boggled by your sign-painting blockhead of an artist, with complacent reliance on his compasses and perspective scale, and paint pot and palette. There is a great tragic soul in the scene, which the soul in the artist must clasp or fail utterly. NO PLACE FOR RHETORIC. And as for the gifted space-writer — well, everything can be forgiven in this over- whelming presence except rhetoric. Here, where anguish struggles against joy for the soul of the beholder, rhetoric is worse than a mockery of the thoughts incommunicable that surge through the mind — here, by this deep pre-Egyptian grave of Nature's patient digging, gorgeous, mysterious and solemn, where Time, the mother of worlds, has sep- ulchered her dead children, the centuries and millenniums of the past — here, where winds are born and cradled — here, where desert sunsets faint and fall and daily spill their 9'^ A RHAPSODT. ^'FirZ-MACr gorgeous colors on the columned walls of Time's abysmal tomb, rhetoric is something worse than a presumptuous and profitless vanity; it is a profanation. Pray spare me, in this mysterious and subduing presence, from the categorical inquiries that will naturally rush to your tongue — I cannot answer them; my emotions, this day, are in thrall and I wish to reflect on "the thoughts that arise in me." This wonder has been scientifically ob- served, surveyed and studied by technical experts for the government, and you will find all that you would ask soberly and precisely answered in the government's magnificent publi- cations on the subject, which will be found in any large library. Ask to see the report on the expedition of Lieutenant Whipple of 1853-4; the expedition of Lieutenant Ives in 1858; that of Major Powell about 1868; that by Lieutenant Wheeler, published in 1875, ^o^- ^^^j ^"^^ whatever else has followed. If you can read but one. Major Powell's is by far the completest — a superb publica- tion, containing illuminated litho- graphs. COME AND SEE. Come to see it. There is no hardship in the journey. The rail- road now comes directly to the Grand Canyon. You must not conclude that because it is in Arizona it will be found hot. All the way to the "rim" the altitude is about 7,000 feet and the temperature, in consequence, is as cool and refreshing as by the seaside. Come and behold the indescrib- able scene, where silence seems to have dimension and color, and color to have melody and fragrance. ON BOUCHER TRAIL. 96 CLIMBING SUNSET MOUNTAIN, ARIZONA. BY PROF. CHARLES E. B EEC HER. The trip to the top of Sunset Mountain, and the wide view obtained from its summit, is a fitting introduction to the Grand Canyon, whose north wall is distinctly seen from the flaming top. When the main travel canyon-ward was by way of Flag- staff, "Sunset" was a topic of interest to all tourists. Even now this unique uplift merits particular mention in a book devoted to the canyon district. Prof C. E. Beecher, professor of historical geology, Yale University, New Haven, Conn., has kindly furnished an account of his experiences on Sunset Mountain, which he visited with a party from Yale University six summers ago. This is what he writes: PROF.CHARLESE. BEECHER. RIGHTLY NAMED. ,, DICTIONARY of geographical terms would doubtless reveal the fact that early discoverers have designated a goodly number of salient points on the earth's crust as "Sunset" mountains. However this may be, there is one alone that is the Simon-pure article; only one that is at sunset in the morn- ing, at noon and at night; but one that, scorning the elsewhere necessary obliquity of the sun's rays, has its own sun-kissed summit fixed in enduring dyes. The one mountain possessing these remarkable qualities is Sunset Mountain, Arizona. On the map this mountain is indicated as one of the great cluster of satellites sur- rounding the base of that noble volcanic mountain mass, San Francisco Peaks, from which it lies about ten miles to the eastward. Except by title, its distinguishing features are not represented, and the skeptical student of geography might naturally surmise that the name had been given from some chance occurrence or from a lack of characteristics, as so often happens. Such, however, is not the case. SCENES ON THE WAY. Our Yale party, westbound over the Santa Fe — was first gladdened, after crossing the treeless wastes of eastern Arizona, by a vision of the mountains on the Colorado Plateau. Before leaving the desert the gash in the rising billows of rock known as Canyon Diablo is crossed, and a few miles beyond a sprinkling of cedars dots the landscape. Soon we are in a forest of dwarf cedar and pinon, increasing in density and height as the railroad climbs the plateau. By the time the outposts of the mountains are reached that splen- did tree, the yellow pine of the West, dominates the forest and makes it one of the finest sylvan regions in America, Our destination is Flagstafi\, lying almost at the foot of San Francisco Peaks. Some time before reaching it we are treated to occasional glimpses of a mountain difi^ering from all the others. Its blackened sides and its summit bathed in a warm glow of red and yellow proclaim its name. Neither map nor compass are needed to recognize it as Sunset Mountain. The attractive and hospitable town of Flagstaff, with its circle of natural curiosities 97 CLIMBING SUNSET MOUNTAIN. C. E. B EEC HER. and scenic wonders, is a most convenient tarrying place. The little excursion here described is but one of many that may be taken, each having an objective point of pleas- ure and interest. For a considerable distance the road from Flagstaff follows along the old stage route to the Grand Canyon of Arizona, and skirts the eastern base of San Francisco Peaks through what is known as Coconino Park. A drive of two or three miles brings us to one end of a lake basin thoroughly drained a few years ago by part of the bottom falling out, leaving the Bottomless Pits to show the mode of exit of the water. A branch road along this former lake bed leads to Walnut Canyon, the ancient abode of the cliff- dwellers. After traveling a few miles we make a short detour to visit the ruder habita- tions of a like-vanished race, the cave-dwellers. These evidences of the mole men, or troglodytes, are on the summit of a lava cone several hundred feet above the valley. The outlook is one of considerable extent and grandeur. The higher peaks of the moun- tains are in full view near at hand, and the inimitable "Sunset" here presents some of its most pronounced effects. The caves are volcanic vents enlarged by primitive man to form irregular rooms. Sometimes two or three lead into each other, thus constituting a suite of apartments. The outside entrance, or doorway, often opens upward, and the presence of a low ruined wall surrounding it suggests that there may have been exterior rooms and possibly a protecting roof. The inhabitants were not without skill, for we find abundant remains of well-made and beautifully decorated pottery, as well as stone implements, including a number of metates, or mealing stones. Our road continues over the hard surface of disintegrated lava beds and through the forest of pines. There is an almost entire absence of fallen timber and undergrowth, which in most places mar the aspect and make travel so difficult. No forest fires or lumber camps have as yet blasted and scourged this region, which still remains in its original perfection and beauty. NEARING THE BASE. A few miles farther on we leave the main road and turn in the direction of our des- tination. The harsh grating of the wheels and the sinking of the horses' feet warn us that we have entered a cinder-covered area, and are approaching centers of more recent volcanic activity. As we advance the cinders become more incoherent and travel more *^ ^Si?^ f j^^H^^ CAVE DWELLINGS. A LAVA FIELD. 98 CLIMBING SUNSET MOUNTAIN. C. E. BEECHER. difficult, until, when about a mile from Sunset, we are forced to pity the straining horses and terminate our progress on wheels. Sunset Mountain is before us, but we are separated from it by a barrier which seems impassable without wings. A lava field stretches directly in front. Its forbidding surface has been tossed and riven by the opposing elements of fire and steam until it represents a perfect chaos of black tumult. Had the lava stream cooled but yesterday, its surface would have been neither fresher nor rougher. Its scoriaceous and blistered exterior seems to have suffered no change, and lichens, even, have not gained a foothold. Adopting the suggestion of the driver as to a route which would enable us to cross the lava field, we set forth. At one point a wide crack extends deep into the flow. Entering this we find progress feasible, and, by clambering over a few bad places and picking out cinder patches, we succeed in reaching the other side. The lower slopes of the mountain are gently undulating stretches of fine cinders entirely devoid of grass, but with some scattering pines. Very perfect little cinder cones rise up here and there, while interspersed with them are fantastic masses of lava hoodoos projecting their scorched forms above the smooth cinder beds, like nunataks. Occasional holes show where explo- sions have taken place, bulging the lava around the edge and hurling huge blocks to a considerable distance. As we approach the mountain we find that Sunset, too, engaged in the practice of lofty gunnery, as attested by numerous lava bombs lying about the base. Here the powerful forces of nature are now at rest, and this scene of former orographic strife is succeeded by one of gentle quiet in which the sighing of the pines and the occasional twitter of a passing bird alone break the stillness. THE ASCENT. We selected a route up the mountain leading over a cinder-buried lava flow which streamed out of a notch in the summit rim. As soon as the ascent was b^gun we fully realized that Sunset is a gigantic, incoherent cinder volcano, and also that fine cinders lying at the critical angle of repose constitute a most difficult incline for bipeds. A long step upward resulted in starting a miniature landslide that buried the lower foot and brought the^upper one down to nearly the same level. It required a great many of these long strides, with resultant short steps, to make visible progress. The most satisfactory method was to zigzag at a rather low angle and thus avoid the effort of extricating the lower foot. One could hardly help being reminded of the sand-pit described as the RESIDENCE SECTION OF FLAGSTAFF. 99 CLIMBING SUNSET MOUNTAIN. C. E. BE EC HER. abode of the Dead Alive, in "The Strange Ride of Morrowbie Jukes," only we realized that all there was to do to get out of the dilemma, and escape from a Gunga Dass, was to slide to the bottom. When we were about 300 feet below the summit there was a marked change from black to brick-red in the color of the cinders. We had entered the region of perpetual sunset. Farther up, the evidences of fumarole action, with its bleaching effects, were everywhere apparent. The color of the rocks first became a rich chrome, but as we approached the top we passed over zones of bright lemon-yellow and finally pure white. This was the secret of the mountain. Reaching the highest point, we turned about us to study the surroundings. The mountain itself had a perfectly circular crater in the summit, estimated at a quarter of a mile across, 400 feet deep and having the form of an inverted cone. To the west were the San Francisco Peaks, those ever-present landmarks of northern Arizona. To the south we looked over a vast area of forest and hills. In the eastern foreground were grouped several superb cinder cones, similar to the one we were on, though less lofty, while about them were smaller cones. Numerous lava beds reached like fingers far out to the edge of the plateau, as if to grasp the iridescence of the far-away Painted Desert. It was difficult to realize that the week before we were struggling over its deceptive rainbow-tinted wastes to reach the distant Moki Land. Fully sixty miles to the north, over an unbroken stretch of forest, rise the banded walls of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, with, beyond, the great Kaibab Plateau joining the line of the horizon. The stupendous expanse of the ramparts of the canyon stretching as far as the eye can reach, and the luminosity of the abyss across whose mysterious depths our vision extends, make us realize that we are on the threshold of the sublime. Loth to leave this entrancing prospect without a complete antithesis, we descend to the bottom of the crater where all is shut out with blackness save a circle of azure overhead. Pausing again on the crater's rim, we feel that our first introduction to northern Arizona has been a success. As a geographic picture, it has surpassed the best maps; as a natural object lesson, it has been fruitful of results. It requires no effort to descend Sunset! SUNSET MOUNTAIN. Photo, Robinson. 100 BOTTOM OF CRATER. i'hoto, Seymour. HENRY P. EWING. CATARACT CANYON, ARIZONA. BY HENRY P. EWING. Mr. Henry P. Ewing, at one time United States Indian Agent in charge of the Wallapai and Havasupai Indians, with headquarters at Truxton, Ariz., furnishes expressly for this work an interesting account of Cataract Canyon. Mr. Ewing has resided among these tribes since boyhood. He has made a careful study of their language, religion, customs, etc., and speaks both languages fluently. While engaged as agent for them he carefully studied the geological conditions of that beautiful side gorge known as Cataract Canyon, a place which comparatively few tourists have visited, but which for romantic beauty and unique interest is well worth seeing. One may here study the Indian problem a little at first hand, as well as admire Nature's work. IN THE BEGINNING. IN the legends of the Wallapai and Havasupai it is related how and why the Cataract Canyon was selected by the Havasupais as a home. It was thus: When the several families, or bands of people, who afterward became the great tribes of the southwest, left their sacred canyon (Mat-a-we-dit-ta) by direction of their Moses (Ka-that-ka-na-ve) to find new homes, the Havasupai family journeyed eastward on the trail taken by the Navajo and Hopi. One night they camped in the Cataract Canyon, and early on the morrow took up their burdens to proceed on their journey, but just as they were starting a little child of the party began to cry, and the Kohot of the family, knowing this to be a warning from the Great Spirit, decided to remain and live in the canyon. They found a fertile valley of some five hundred acres of level land, which was easily irrigated from the river that bursts clear and sparkling from a thousand springs at the base of the great clifi^s, and rushes on, over successive cataracts, to join the Rio Colorado in its vast canyon. They called the place Ha-va-sua, meaning Blue Water; and by-and-by themselves were known as Ha-va-sua-pai (dwellers by the Blue Water), which rather pretty sounding name has in some unaccountable way become corrupted into "Yava Supai," "Supai" and "Suppai" by the whites, who have attempted to use the Indian name. Smile not at this primitive child of nature, who thought he heard the voice of the Great Spirit in the crying of this child, for if you should stand in the spot where these primitive people stood and view the stupendous works wrought by the Supreme Architect, you will see the work of His hands in the massive cliffs that tower sublimely beyond the power of man to grasp. You may then understand why the child of nature, standing in the presence of nature's greatest achievement, may think he hears the voice of the Great Spirit in the breeze, the brook, the singing of the birds; and sees the impress of His power in these great castles and towers. METHOD OF FORMATION. Seventy-five miles north of Seligman station, on the Santa Fe, the beautiful blue waters of the Cataract River burst from beneath massive beds of sandstone and limestone 102 CATARACT CANTON, ARIZONA. HENRT P. EWING. rock, 4,000 feet in thickness. Owing to a peculiar characteristic of the rock strata in the whole of this region (it being "cross-bedded," or broken and cracked vertically as well as stratified horizontally), perpendicular walls thousands of feet in height are possible. No other gorges are like those in the Grand Canyon region. The cause is simple and plain — this previous cross-bedding or vertical fracture of the strata by some force causes the rock to let go from its place on the side of the canyon wall in long blocks, cracking off from the wall often in masses the full height of the canyon wall. In this way the vertical face of the canyon wall is forever preserved, no matter how deep the waters may erode, nor how wide the canyon may become by the falling off of these rectangular blocks of stone. It is this same characteristic and peculiarity that accounts for the scarcity of springs of living water on the great plateaus above. For these vertical seams and cracks in the strata allow the water from the rain and snowfall above to percolate through its 4,000 feet of strata until it reaches a strata of limestone, not cross-bedded, and which first crops out in the bed of the canyon at the villages of Havasupai. Having reached this impervious strata, all the drainage from the thousands of square miles of plateau above bursts forth through its thousand orifices into the Cataract Canyon, forming the sparkling blue river Havasu DIKE BUILDING. But here another wonder meets the sight. While this water was percolating through these successive layers of limestone rock it became impregnated to saturation with lime. Copyright, 1901, by O. Wharton Jttmen. HOME OF HAVASUPAI INDIANS. Copyright, lom, hp HAVASUPAI WOMAN WITH KATHAK. O. Wharton James. 103 CATARACT CANTON, ARIZONA. HENRT P. EJVING. and as soon as it comes out of the rock and the carbon dioxide of the air comes in con- tact with it the Hme becomes insoluble and is deposited. During the centuries past this river has deposited such vast quantities of marl that four great dams have been built up, forming barriers across the canyon over which the river pours in cascades of such beauty and grandeur as to be beyond the power of pen to describe. Above the first dam the debris has filled in the canyon to the top of the dam, forming a level and fertile valley of some 500 acres. This land is cultivated by the Havasupais in a primitive way, following, no doubt, the methods learned from the cliff-dwellers, who occupied the dwellings still to be seen high up in the canyon walls, and evidently cultivated the soil in the valley below. Many of these ancient dwellings, well preserved, are visible to the tourist, high up in crevices in the rocks. RIVER AND FALLS. After rushing in foaming torrents over Supai and Navajo falls, fifty and seventy-five feet high, respectively, the Havasu glides through a narrow canyon for half a mile, in a valley matted with masses of trees, vines and ferns, the delicate green of whose foliage contrasts beautifully with the dead gray walls of the deep, dark canyon. Then leaping over another barrier, built by itself, the crystal waters dash in clouds of spray through masses of ferns, mosses and trees 175 feet perpendicularly into a great seething pool below. This is called the Bridal Veil Falls, from the cloud of mist and spray that ever hangs about it, and in the sunlight reflects rainbows. For three miles we follow the swiftly but smoothly gliding stream through a canyon, whose perpendicular walls of gray limestone seem to meet overhead in the blue of the sky. Such a chasm as this does not exist elsewhere. What contrast between those dull, cold, gray, sky-reaching limestone walls that fill us with awe and dread, and the beau- tiful verdure and foliage of a semi-tropic clime strewn in profligate profusion below and all around. We now come to the scenic climax of this little wonderland — the Mooney Falls. Leaping over another self-built barrier in the narrow, and now much deeper gorge, the entire volume of water (a stream four feet deep and twenty feet wide) leaps in one solid mass 300 feet perpendicularly into a seemingly bottomless pool below, where the dark blue waters, after foaming and boiling for awhile, rush away to mingle their pure crystal tide with the ever turbid flood of the Colorado. Nothing can equal or surpass the vastness of the Grand Canyon of Arizona, but for a beauty and sublimity peculiar to itself the subordinate Cataract Canyon stands alone. Cataract Canyon is about forty miles from El Tovar. There is a wagon road for twenty- five miles to within two miles of the rim of Topocobya Canyon — part of the way across small hills near the south wall of the Grand Canyon, and the remaining distance across a level country in the grateful shade of scrub oak and juniper. If a detour is made to Bass* Camp the distance is a few miles greater. A well-defined trail leads to where the abrupt descent begins. From the top of Topocobya to the Supai village is about thirteen miles. The descent from the rim can only be made on horse-back, which necessitates taking along pack and saddle animals, also a complete camp outfit and provisions for man and beast. The trip. Bright Angel to Havasupai, can be made in fifteen hours contin- uous travel, but a longer time is taken in order to camp at Topocobya over night. 104 CATARACT CANTON, ARIZONA. HENRT P. EWING. The journey should only be undertaken by those accustomed to roughing it, as at the best some fatigue may be expected, although ladies have recently made the trip without much inconvenience. There are no regular accommodations now for the "Supai" side tour, but one may engage a team and saddle animals at El Tovar. Special advance arrangements must be made for same. The cost varies with the size of the party and the time spent at destination. According to a recent rule, visitors to the reservation must first obtain a permit from the Santa Fe agent at Grand Canyon. One should arrange to stay in Cataract Canyon at least two days. Note by Editor — The Havasupais number 250 persons. Their village in Cataract (or Havasu) Canyon is not often visited. It is scattered for three miles along willow-lined Havasu Creek, from the school house to Bridal Veil Falls. These Indians are chiefly farmers, raising corn, pumpkins, melons and peaches, and are self-supporting; they also make baskets. The United States Government has established a school here. Near by are interesting ruins and cHfF dwellings. There are other Indians in the Grand Canyon region who occasionally visit the Havasupais, The Utes tramp down from Nevada, crossing at West Ferry; the Wallapais come in from near Hackberry and Peach Springs, and the Mokis from north of Canyon Diablo — mainly attracted by the Peach Dance, an interesting ceremony which occurs the latter part of August, when the main crop of fruit is ready for drying. The Wallapais and the Chimihuevis frequently intermarry with the dwellers in Cataract Canyon. BRIDAL VEIL FALLS, CATARACT CANYON. 105 JOHN HAN'CE. JOHN HANCE: A STUDY. BY HAMLIN GARLAND. Where the Rockies reach starward are beauty and grandeur, silence and power. These influences work upon the men and women who dwell there, and if the sojourn be long enough and outside of any community, the result is a personality unlike that of the average American. All outdoors is so big and still, so full of peaks or so hori- zon-open, so free from crowding and crowds, and so supreme in authority, that the sons of the hills become individualists — each fulfilling his own mission in his own way. Thus we find unique characters everywhere in the South- west. John Hance, the Grand Canyon guide, is one of them — a little overpraised and overrated, perhaps, but still a striking figure and closely identified with tourist travel to the canyon. Hamlin Garland tells of Hance's peculiar ways in the following sketch, here repro- duced by permission of the author: A PIONEER. ^HE man who ought to be remembered with the Grand Canyon of the Colorado is not a scientist, nor a painter, nor a poet. He is only an old pioneer who has summered and wintered with the Grand Canyon for twelve years. His name is John Hance. Some people call him Old John Hance, and he calls himself, at times, old Captain John Hance, and I believe he has a m.ilitary record to back up the title. It doesn't matter, he holds a better one. Your friends who have been to the canyon will say: "See the canyon, of course, but don't fail to see old John Hance," and I hereby celebrate, also, the personality of the man who made the canyon his home when it was practically an unexplored wonder. I do not care to go behind the old man's own statement of the case, for that statement is so good it ought to be final, even if it isn't. In the summer of 1869, Major Powell and party made the only descent by boat that had ever been known in this stupendous gorge. But what of that? In 1883, John Hance came upon the canyon — in a prospecting tour; admired it, loved it, and has lived with it ever since and expects to die beside it and be buried in it — God willing and man aiding. It is a pleasure to have visited the Grand Canyon, and an honor to have explored it, but it is a glory to have loved it and lived beside it to the exclusion of neighbors, friends, wife and children. It has claimed all there is of John Hance. His loyalty is unques- tioned. He talks of it, dreams of it, his gestures delineate it, his talk conforms to it. HIS SUMMER HOME. In summer he lives on the rim, and the door of his little cabin commands one of the finest views of the most tremendous gulf in the world — the point where the Colorado River breaks through the Buckskin Plateau. At sunset, when his evening snack is eaten, John can pull a stool to the very edge of the awful chasm and there sit and smoke his pipe and watch the splendid colors shift and glow, and cool, and darken in the deeps, and 106 Photo, W. H. Knap. COLORADO R]VER, FOOT OF BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL. JOHN HANCE: A STUDT. HAMLIN GARLAND. flare behind the sculptured peaks like banners, as if some hidden flaming fire were trying to outdo the glory of the sky. He chose this site because he loved it. He had a cabin at first which was more sheltered by the pines, but he couldn't see his canyon, so he moved. WINTER QUARTERS. Here he lives, surrounded by his mules until October comes — and then, when the cold winds threaten and snow begins to slide along the high plateau, John mounts his favorite mule, and driving all his cattle before him, descends 6,000 feet and finds perpet- ual summer. On the sage-green bushes, 1,000 feet above the river, his cattle feed. In his tent among the mesquite trees, the old pioneer lives, while far above him the harsh winds howl and the whirling snow falls foot by foot, blocking every road and piling high above his cabin. At his door the sullen, tawny-red flood roars, laden with millions of tons of soil, crashing its mighty bowlders together, gnawing upon the cliff^s, sinking itself in the solid rock like a file into an anvil. In the daytime as John works at his forge, or rides after his cattle, the river's voice grows dim and small, but at night when, with his pipe in hand, he sits at the door of his tent and the darkness rises from the flood like an exhala- tion, then the river awakes, its roar grows louder, angrier, more tumultuous. It comes at last to dominate the whole valley. It then appears the potentiality it really is — the power which has hewn out this incomprehensible chasm between the mountainous clifi^s. The tourist sees the canyon from the rim or during one day on the trail, but John sees it 365 days in the year, and each day it is difi^erent. He sees it when the gray clouds roof it in like some prodigious dim temple. He sees it when the tall peaks are white as marble and the upper canyons are filled with ice; when the streams around him are quickened by melting snow and the grass grows green again through falling rain. He sees it in a thousand varied, harmonious eflfects of light and shade — in moonlight, in starlight, in dawnlight. AN EXPLORER. In the winter days when there is nothing else to do (and there could be nothing better to do), John goes exploring the mysterious presence. Driving his burro, laden with a camping outfit, he strikes out along the river. One winter he explores up, the next winter down. In very truth he knows the canyon for a hundred miles, knows it and loves it — does not fear it. He knows that in the midst of these overawing immensities there are grassy nooks where the ferns grow and water falls with merry gurgle. The canyon has a thousand moods when one comes to live with it. John has seen them all. He knows, too, the cliff-dwellers' houses, mere swallow nests in the unscalable clifi^s, and he muses upon the antiquity of man, and most of all upon the antiquity of this river bed. He speaks often of the mighty dikes of granite through which the river has chiseled its way, and asks: "Who can tell how long it has taken to drill through rock like that? Long enough to make men of no account on this earth — surely." He has come, naturally, to feel a sort of proprietorship here. He recognized the grim resolution of Powell in going through it when every bend in its river was unknown and threatening — but he knows that it can be traversed to-day without much danger. 108 JOHN HANCE: A STUDT. HAMLIN GARLAND. Powell and Moran had the cultivated faculty of letting the world know of their discover- ies. Old John has only the power of his tongue, which is considerable, but does not reach the great world. • A STORY TELLER. There are those who laugh at John Hance and see nothing in him. Others acknowl- edge him to be a powerful and astonishing fictionist. Consciously he is a teller of whopping lies. Unconsciously he is one of the most dramatic and picturesque natural raconteurs I have ever met. His experiences as a soldier, as a guide on the plains, as a prospector, as a hunter, furnish him with an enormous fund of actual adventure, which he tells with the power of actor and fictionist combined — provided he does not become self- conscious. Unless carefully handled his wit is labored and artificial. He is a Tennesseean, and his soft^ drawling voice and accented auxiliary verbs add quaintness and distinction to his stories. His gift for telling phrases is as great in its way as that of Whitcomb Riley. His profanity is never commonplace. It blazes out like some unusual firework and illumines his story for yards around. It is not profanity; it is dramatic fervor. He has his weaknesses like the rest of us, and they are apparent to any casual comer. But the man has, also, something elemental about him — something which makes his frame invincible to cold and hunger. He would be lost, and helpless, and ill at ease in Chicago or New York, but here he is native. To think of him jogging down the trail in the autumn, a minute speck of living matter, to spend five months alone in that stu- pendous abyss, is to come to the man's real quality. And he does this, be it understood, not as an act of bravado, not as a scientist to explore for a winter, but to live there as a matter of choice. He has his stories of vast gold mines, it is true, but nobody believes them. If they were there — what matter? It is a government park reservation. He has his theory that all the washings of gold from the San Juan country for a million years, are lodged along this river bed, and if it could be turned aside at certain places there would be tons of gold lying in-»the pot holes in the granite, but there it lies and there it must forever remain beneath that enormous ferocious flood. He does not fear to be out of the world, for he has beside him the one incontestable wonder of God's earth. If he waits long enough, all the world will come to him. All the poets and scientists and geologists — all the people really worth knowing will come to see old John and his canyon, and I here say deliberately they are both worth while. AT BASS CAMP, HEAD OF BASS TRAIL. 109 COMMENTS. HAT has been said about the Grand Canyon would fill many books. Many thousand tourists have visited the scene. Each has tried, by word of mouth, by pen, or by picture, to put individual impressions into some lasting form. Out of a large file of newspaper clippings and letters, the following have been selected as fairly typical of how the canyon appears to tourists, journalists, business men, educators and others. Only brief extracts are given: I have seen all the wonders of the new world. The Grand Canyon is the grandest of them all. — C. P. Bond, of Boston Journal. I think it is very, very deep and grand, and that it Aiust have taken a very long time to make it. I would like to stay here forever, it is so beautiful. — Carglinte Hadley, (aged 9 years), Imagine, if you can, all the armies of all the nations of the earth, marching in solid columns from opposite sides of this appalling gorge to meet each other in battle array, unconscious of the existence of this spot until too late to save themselves from being swallowed up in its abysmal depths; imagine all these vast bodies of men, with all the guns, all the horses — infantry, cavalry, artillery, sappers, miners and pontoniers — all the transportation trains and all the impedimenta of an army, together with all the buildings of all the cities of the world; imagine all this vast aggregation of men and material thrown into this immeasurable abyss, and the Grand Canyon would still remain unfilled for its entire length, and the Colorado River would continue to flow unintercepted on its resistless course to the sea. In its measureless, cruel, insatiable maw all would be swallowed up. — Gen. Harrison Gray Otis, Los Angeles Times. There are mountains that reach almost to the moon; there are oceans that spread over nearly half the universe; there are pyramids, palaces, monuments, cathedrals which excite awe and admiration; there are mighty rivers and cataracts; but there is only one Grand Canyon of the Colorado, and those who have placed it within the reach of ordin- ary travelers have done the world an important service. * * * It is a stupendous intaglio, carved in the silent Arizona desert by river, rain and winds. ■^* '^' ''''' * *• There is nothing to compare with it anywhere in the world. It is impossible to exag- gerate the grandeur, the sublimity, the impressiveness of the scenery; and its fascination cannot be accurately described. — William E. Curtis, in Chicago Record-Herald. In coming to this place I had half a wish and half a purpose to write a description of it; but, now that I have seen it, I feel that description of it is, for me, impossible. The hand that wrote the Hymn to Sunrise in the Vale of Chamouni, might have made a word picture of this wonderful scene, or, better still, might have expressed the emotion it inspires; but that hand is at rest, and no fellow to it exists on earth. One word, how- ever, can be written, and that is a word of urgent counsel to the American traveler not to seek the marvels of Europe till he has first looked upon this marvel of his native land. — William Winter, in New York Tribune. I lO COMMENTS. I have seen the Grand Canyon! No painter can paint it — no photographer can photograph it. To me its awfulness is lost in its marvelous beauty. I shall never forget the first impression I got from Grand View Point one afternoon in November. The sky was without a cloud and the atmosphere was indescribably clear; the whole scene was phantom-like, unreal, almost unearthly. — G. H. Buek, Vice-President American Litho- graphic Company. The vision of the canyon at sunset is one of the marvels. All its colors are inten- sified and the reds and yellows burn like coals. When the low sun gilds the red sand- stone masses, oceans of rose-flame sweep up the walls, more and more brilliant as they climb, until the topmost thousand feet of the farther rim blaze with the fire of hyacinth, ruby and garnet. All the sky is gorgeous with pink light, yet the pinnacles of rock that catch the last gleams are more brilliant than the clouds. The splendor rises and fades and is caught by the vapors overhead. After the sky colors, too, have faded, you are about to turn away, lingering, regretting, when — again, a wonder; for new colors, deep, tender, solemn, flow up along the painted walls, as night brims out of the deep. The bottom grows vague and misty, but each Walhalla is steeped in purple as soft as the bloom of grapes. When day is wholly gone and the canyon has become to the eye a mere feeling or impression of depth and space, walk out on some lonely point. The slopes, thirteen miles away, are visible as gray walls, distinct from the black cliffs, and on the hither side the trees are clear against the snow. No night is absolute in blackness, but as we look it seems as though the canyon was lighted from within. It is an abyss of shadow and mystery. There is a sadness in the canyon, as in all great things of nature, that removes it from human experience. We have seen the utmost of the world's sublimity and life is fuller from that hour. — C. M. Skinner, in Brooklyn Eagle. It is the only scenery on the globe that does not disappoint. Suddenly, without any premonition, the earth yawns beneath you! You stand upon the brink of the bottomless pit. Terrible! An indescribable emotion seizes you. You wish to topple forward, to fling yourself into that awful chaotic chasm. You recoil, step back and lift your eyes, and, lo, the gates of paradise seem swinging before you, and through them you see the walls and ramparts and golden streets of a city not made with hands. And that is just what the Grand Canyon is — a combination of regions infernal and celestial. I am not going to try to describe it, for before its superhuman majesty, its splendor, its loveliness, words become as sounding brass and as a tinkling cymbal. I wish only to say that as I stood there and looked at it first, flooded with the soft golden and violet lights of sunset, I longed for a trumpet to send forth a clarion call over this vast country and to cry: "Stop, stop, Americans! Do not go abroad! Look at your own country first. Come here and see what God has wrought." — Edith Sessions Tupper. Even before entering the hotel I had seen what would alone repay a journey from Boston to Bright Angel Trail. The marvelous sea of color was like a revelation of the new Jerusalem. The colossal canyon itself could not hold the people who would throng here, were it adequately known. — Lilian Whiting, author of "The World Beautiful." 112 COMMENTS. The Creator has several autographs ^ — Yosemite, the Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon of Arizona and others. The Yosemite might be called the Valhalla, the temple of the gods; the Yellowstone might be called their playground, their sublime wonderland; the Grand Canyon, bursting upon the vision out of its remote solitude in the Arizona desert, might be called their grave. Horror! Tragedy! Silence! Death! Chaos! There is the awful canyon in five words. Standing on the rim of this titan of chasms, studying its awful and bewildering architecture, its terrifying abysses, plunging precipice into precipice, spectral, elusive, overwhelming the faculties, and over all the unbroken silence of the underworld, save for the weeping of the pines at dusk, and the hoarse, almost indistin- guishable, groaning of the giant river boring unseen in its remotest abyss — it seemed to me as if it were the burying ground of the universe. It is the delirium of Nature. It seems both alive and dead. The mind at first stands aghast. There is a sense of terror that cannot be put into words. There is the silence of eternity. There is no yardstick, except the units be in abysmal vortexes and tangled mountain forms. There is nothing to compare it with or measure it by, but infinity. — Rev. C. B. Spencer, in Rocky Moun- tain Advocate, Denver. I have stood on mountain tops and looked across distances greater than any between the rims of this abyss, but none of these gave me this thrilling sense of grandeur appall- ing and unearthly, of supernal and impossible beauty. And the utter restfulness of the place makes it eternal to the sense. Here is no motion except the motion of light and shadow, no life but the life of the spirit. This must be the place of departed souls, for here all things endure. And the return to the rim is an ascent into heaven — one cannot escape the illusion. The supernal vision returns to me — I think I shall always see it when I close my eyes, and long for it when I open them. Surely it would be a shame to enter paradise without beholding the uttermost splendor of earth. So let me urge this place of peace and glory upon all who dwell in cities and burden their minds with things of little importance. — Miss Harriet Monroe, in Chicago Record-Herald. .* Nowhere in all the world can the geologist obtain in a single glance such an impres- sive lesson in geology. — Ralph S. Tarr, Professor of Physical Geography, Cornell University. A TRIP ALONG THE RIM. 113 COMMENTS. For the traveler, no emphasis of commendation would be excessive. American pilgrims will cross the ocean, will seek the Alps, will penetrate the wilds of Russian Siberia, will traverse Indian wilds and African deserts, in search of novelty, and yet they will neglect this greatest of novelties, this surpassing wonder of their native land * * * A pageant of ghastly desolation and yet of frightful vitality, such as neither Dante nor Milton in their most sublime conceptions ever even approached. * * * -sfr Your heart is moved with feeling that is far too deep for words. Hour after hour you would sit, entranced, at the edges of this mighty subterranean spectacle, lost in the wonder and glory of it, forgetful of self, and conscious only of the Divine Spirit. — William Winter, in the Pacific Monthly. Nature has a few big places beyond man's power to spoil — the ocean, the two icy ends of the globe, and the Grand Canyon. * * * Xhe view down the gulf of color and over the rim of its wonderful wall, more than any other view I know, leads us to think of our earth as a star with stars swimming in light, every radiant spire pointing the way to the heavens. * * ^ One's most extravagant expectations are infinitely surpassed, though one expects much from what is said of it. * * * This is the main master furrow of its kind on our continent, incomparably greater and more impressive than any other yet discovered, or likely to be discovered. * * * Surely nowhere else are there illustrations so striking of the natural beauty of desolation and death, so many of Nature's own mountain buildings wasting in glory of high desert air — going to dust. * * * It seems a gigantic statement for even Nature to make, all in one mighty stone word. Wildness so Godful, cosmic, primeval, bestows a new sense of earth's beauty and size. * * ♦ g^^. ^.j^^ colorSy the living, rejoicing colors^ chanting, morning and evening, in chorus to heaven! Whose brush or pencil, however lovingly inspired, can give us these.? * * * In the supreme flaming glory of sunset the whole canyon is transfigured, as if all the life and light of centuries of sunshine stored up in the rocks was now being poured forth as from one glorious fountain, flood- ing both earth and sky. — John Muir, in The Century Magazine. IN TIME OF FLOOD. 114 COMMENTS. From the ragged upper edge of a western cloud bank — grim battlement of the sun — hang an arras of many league-long Indian blankets. Drive under them, from beyond, a tempest that shall rush, mad with fear, from the awful Commander's presence. The high escutcheoned curtain is hurled in a thousand rugged billows; tossed into shifting peaks and weird convolutions; rolled and ribboned and rent, while the fierce barbaric colors are massed and parted; cities seem builded and razed, seas stormed, and forests heaving under the flying canopy; and the trailing, splendid shreds cover the world from the far horizon to your very feet. You have hung a wondrous tapestry; in the midst of its upheaval let it be fixed — changed to flaming stone, backed and bulwarked to the mighty ribs of earth with the unyielding fabric of mountains. Rugged and broken and strange, the wonder appalls you. Cast over it the clear, light, purple dust of distance and the gray gossamer of ages. Very faintly, you see the Grand Canyon in your fancy. — Thomas Wood Stevens, in Leslie's Weekly. The Grand Canyon is one of the few great sights of the world that comes up to its reputation. I have crossed the grandest passes of the Alps and Appenines, of the Lebanons and Balkans, but nothing there seen stands out so vehemently grand as my memory of the Grand Canyon. This glorious handiwork of the Creator speaks to the soul as a printed book cannot. — Rev. W. H. Withrow, Editor Methodist Magazine, Toronto, Ont. We don't realize what we have in this country in the way of scenery. Out there in Arizona is a scenic wonder, the like of which, world-wide travelers say is not to be found anywhere on earth. When the great chasm opened before me I caught my breath and murmured: "My God, there it is!" Nearly everyone who visits the canyon for the first time gives involuntary expression to some such phrase. It draws upon the emotions as no sermon, no oration, could possibly do, and men of rigid exterior and neglectful reli- gious habits have been known to bend in reverence before this sublime mystery. It was twelve miles tb the opposite brink where we looked and over a mile to the bottom, along which the great Colorado, resembling a tiny yellow ribbon as it zigzagged on its fretful course, has flowed and roared for ages — a body of water ten times the size of the Nile, and with power enough, could it be utilized, to feed numberless manufactories. — Frank Caughey, Vice-President Detroit Board of Trade, in Detroit Free Press. If you want grandeur for the eye, elixir for the lungs and a novel experience for the mind, come here. ^ "^ ■» Four days from New York, and you find yourself in a world as new and remarkable as some dream vision might provide. * * * You are overcome, blinded, awed, startled by the splendor of color and the magnificence of design in which Nature has indulged herself * * * It is like an excavated city of the gods of Olympus. * * * Whatever else you have seen of the wonders of the earth, do not believe you have seen the most wonderful until you have stood on the rim of the Grand Canyon of Arizona. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox, in New York Journal. 115 COMMENTS. There are rivers in Europe that delight tourists and are world-renowned — the beau- tiful blue Danube, the castle-bordered Rhine and the Rhone, born in a glacier high up in the mountains of Switzerland — but here we have a river of the new world which, having its origin in the deep solitudes of the Rockies, carves out a weirdly eventful his- tory for itself. It passes through mighty gorges, tumbles in cataracts, falls in rapids, is fed by the innumerable mountain springs and rivulets and rivers, and rushes along to its goal, the ocean. Leaving the Grand Canyon it continues its winding course away from the habitations of man, through the burning plains of a great arid desert, losing its identity forever in the great Gulf of California. — Arthur K. Peck. Remoteness can no longer excuse the transcontinental traveler for failing to see this, America's grandest spectacle; for of the three great wonders of the western world, the Yellowstone, the Yosemite and the Grand Canyon, the latter is now the most easily reached. '•' * '^'' Let no one imagine, as he first looks out over the chaos of cliffs, terraces, domes, obelisks and buttes of fantastic shape, that he has really seen the canyon. He has merely read the first line in the preface of a book, which never once repeats itself. — H. G. Peabody, in "Glimpses of the Grand Canyon of Arizona." The most imposing panorama in Norway, according to the popular judgment, is the "Raftsund," in the Lofoten Islands, which was selected by the Norwegian government as presenting the highest type of national scenery for exhibition in the form of a cyclorama at the Paris Exposition. Emperor William of Germany, who comes into the fjords of Norway nearly every year in his yacht, has erected a cabin on the top of one of the mountains, from which he can obtain a bird's-eye view of a large area, and it is declared that from his eyrie may be witnessed the greatest variety of mountain scenery in the world. The Grand Canyon of the Colorado could swallow up all the fjords in the Lofoten Islands and conceal them from human view; the brilliant colors of its walls are not seen in Norway. Here we have only the dull, dark, gray rock, with its cushions of velvet moss and scrub pine, the intense glittering white of newly fallen snow, the "baby blue" tints of the glaciers and the dark sullen green of the deep waters. — William E. Curtis, in Chicago Record- Herald. TRAIL PARTY LEAVING EL TOVAR. CORNER OK THE RENDEZVOUS. EL EOVAR. ii6 COMMENTS. The Grand Canyon. What is it? I do not know; you do not know; God only knows. When I stood for more than an hour on Sunset Rock and the sun went down below the horizon, and I viewed the various changes of light and shade, I immediately thought of the next change, and the inimitable words, "Nearer, my God, to Thee," came forcibly to mind. I have seen many wonders in the world, both natural and artificial — St. Peter's of Rome, Mont Blanc, the Matterhorn, the magnificent scenery of the Rhine, the beauties of Ireland (not forgetting the Lakes of Killarney), the lovely gardens of England, the roaring Atlantic, Niagara Falls, etc., but all sink into insignificance com- pared with the wonderful beauty of the Grand Canyon. If you have any desire to know the Grand Canyon, rely neither on poet nor writer, but see it with your own eyes. None other can transmit its wonders. — Geo. B. Reeve, Second Vice-President and General Manager, Grand Trunk Railway System. The Iron Gates of the Danube and the river gorges of the Caucasus might be multiplied a hundred times and they could be buried in one side gorge of this king of gorges. Careful estimates show that the main canyon with its tributaries, if placed in one continuous length, would reach over twenty thousand miles, and any mile of this distance would far surpass any mountain gorge to be found in England, Scotland, Ireland or Wales. My camp at the canyon is in the sweep of a vast amphitheater. It extends from "cusp to cusp," over sixty miles. It is from 6,000 to 7,000 feet deep. From the rim to the wild river which turbulently dashes through its inner gorge of granite it is about seven miles. In other words it is from twelve to fifteen miles, in a straight line across the canyon, from rim to rim, at any point in this amphitheater. Make, in imagination, a real theater of this vast space. Allowing twice as much room for the seat of each person as is given in the most comfortable theater in existence, you could seat here an audience of two hundred and fifty millions of people. And these would all be in the stalls on this side. An orchestra of one hundred million pieces and a chorus of one hundred and fifty million voices could be placed very comfortably on the opposite side. Is it in the power of the unaided imagination to conceive such ascene? If the waters of the Thames, Severn, Trent, Ouse, Tyne, Tay and Clyde, were a 1 massed together, they would flow in the dark depths of the inner gorge, and one. standing on the rim and looking down upon the rapidly flowing waves would see only a silverv ribbon, here and there glistening in the brilliant Arizona sunlight. — G. Wharton James, in Alkahest Magazine. The Grand Canyon of Arizona fills me with awe. It is beyond comparison — beyond description; absolutely unparalleled throughout the wide world. * * * Lg^- ^^a^ great wonder of nature remain as it now is. Do nothing to mar its grandeur, sublimitv and loveliness. You cannot improve on it. But what you can do is to keep it for your children, your children's children, and all who come after you, as the one great sight which every American should see. — President Theodore Roosevelt, in speech at Grand Canyon, May 6, 1903. At El Tovar there is a billiard room, also a large music room — both beautiful apart- ments. Although there were many guests, the billiard tables, piano and waxed floor 117 COMMENTS. were seldom used. This seeme'd strange until I got under the spell of the canyon. That titanic chasm won't permit games and dancing. It is fascinating to such a degree that one wishes to look at it all the time. Describe it? A man who has never seen it can do that better than one who has been under its charm. I am going back again some day. — Walter H. Page, Editor World's Work, in newspaper interview. May 25, 1905. » What is it like.'* It is like itself only of all things earthly. Other planets, indeed, may have one such among them, or it seems they should have; but two is enough for an infinite scheme — one for angels, somewhere — and one for men, in Arizona. * * * This is God's Reservation. "Thus far" is v/ritten in characters of living light, as clear, as sure as the writing on Belshazzar's palace wall. "This much," says God, "you can spare to me wherein I may impart to man ideas of light and space, of height and depth." —Rev. S. L. McKee, West Salem, Wis. Behold the realm where Colorado flows ! Here countless centuries have wrought their will In forms majestic with impellent skill; Cathedrals reared their naves from this repose, With pomp of giant pinnacle where glows The sunset; and a stream, that scarce might fill An emperor's chalice, carved its way until The sculptures of a million years uprose. And from the imbedded silence of this stone — Strange hieroglyphic tomb of time's decay — ' The river's voice forever stronger grown, A sunlit spirit in its shadowing clay. Sings to the soul, that makes impatient moan And speeds it blithely on unto the open day. — Louise Morgan Sill, in Harper's Weekly, May 4, 1901 Vishnu, the gods of old are dead! Long dead Are Zeus, Astarte, and that lotus-flower I sis of Egypt. Meets each his hour. Yet thou, silent within thy temple dread. Locked against prayers, mounted above the tread Of climbing feet; thou from thy purple tower Contemplatest the stern inscrutable power Whence all things come and whither all are led. The day in splendor of lilac and clear blue Visits thy mighty seat. The sapphire night Broods in the abyss with darkness, and the rain Drapes thee with clouds, hails thee and bids adieu In thunder. Steadfast on thy terraced height Thou seest bold Time besiege thy throne in vain. — Temple of Vishnu, Grand Canyon, by Wm T. Patchell. 118 COMMENTS. GRAND CANYON OF ARIZONA. w vr w w Tr O symphony of form and color and silence, Dream-like in your deep of luminous ether, Your faint-blue, shimmering sea of haze, strata-rippled; Am I not indeed looking down into some lake enchanted, Seeing the City that all men seek forever Reflected there from heaven? Bj^croft LibSQ Surely this is not real, earth-born or earth-included! Hark! from far, far below a murmur, A roar in a breath and a whisper. The Still Small Voice audibly, The sound of the sea in a shell. Save this, over all, holding all, the Arizona stillness. Color-steeped, sun-saturated. The great, wide, brooding, wonderful hush of the desert. O what wait you for, O Desert, soft and terrible. Motionless, beautiful and infinite? Why are you so calm and expectant? What god, what cycle, is coming? Are you only the wise, O Desert? Is it you that hold the Meaning? — J. William Lloyd, The Conservator, Philadelphia. I stood upon the rim of some strange world — ♦Vague, silent, mystical — its depths unfurled In splendid, sloping terraces, mist-hung. And wondrous in the shifting colors flung Like draperies of gauze 'twixt space and sun. A sleeping silver snake, seen from the heights. The far-ofl^ river rushing to its doom. From startling depths a city rose to view, Builded in ages when the earth was new — Vast hanging gardens, gay in mineral bloom. Enchanted castles, silent as the tomb; Domes, towers and ramparts, bathed in violet lights, And tints — an artist's rapture and despair — Ten million sunsets must have shattered there. — Henry Cleveland Wood in Four Track News. 119 EL TOVAR HOTEL. Photo by Putnam & Valentine. GRAND VIEW HOTEL AND ANNEX. Phulo by Maude. INFORMATION FOR TOURISTS. PRELIMINARY. HERE is only one way by which to directly reach the Grand Canyon of Arizona and that is via the Santa Fe (The Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railway System). There are two ways of reaching the canyon from the Santa Fe — rail from Williams, and private conveyance from Flagstaff. The route from Flagstaff is not available in winter. The bulk of the travel is via Williams, sixty-four miles north to El Tovar — open all the year. THE FOUR TRAILS. There are but three points from which an easy descent may be made of the south wall of the Grand Canyon in the vicinity of the granite gorge, I. At Grand View, down Grand View and Red Canyon trails. 1. At El Tovar, down Bright Angel Trail. 3. At Bass' Camp, down Bass Trail, While the canyon is accessible over trails at other places outside of the district named (such as Lee's Ferry Trail, by wagon from Winslow; Moki Indian Trail, byway of Little Colorado Canyon; and Diamond Creek road to Colorado River from Peach Springs station), tourists take the F^l Tovar, Grand View and Bass' Camp routes, because of the superior facilities and views there offered. It is near Grand View that Marble Canyon ends and the Grand Canyon proper begins. Northward, eighteen miles away, is the mouth of the Little Colorado Canyon. From Grand View the beginning of the granite gorge is first seen. El Tovar is approximately in the center, and Bass' Camp at the western end of the granite gorge. By wagon road it is about thirteen miles from El Tovar east to Grand View, and twenty-three miles west to Bass' Camp. The Grand Canyon as seen from Grand View is ideally beautiful — a scene of wide outlooks and^ brilliant hues; at El Tovar, deepest and most impressive — a scene that awakens the profoundest emotions; at Bass' Camp, the most varied — a scene of strik- ing contrasts in form and color. Each locality has its special charm. All should be visited, if time permits, as only by long observation can one gain even a superficial knowledge of what the Grand Canyon is. THE RIDE FROM WILLIAMS. Because of recent improvements in service the Grand Canyon of Arizona may now be visited, either in summer or winter, with perfect comfort. No one need be deterred by fear of inclement weather. The trip is entirely feasible every day in the year. Leaving the Santa Fe transcontinental train at Williams, Arizona, passengers change in same depot to a local train of the Grand Canyon Railway, which leaves Williams twice a day, and arrives at destination after a three hours' run. Williams is a busy town of 1,500 inhabitants, 378 miles west of Albuquerque, on the Santa Fe, Here are located large sawmills, smelters, numerous well-stocked stores and railroad division buildings. The Grand Canyon Hotel — a large brick edifice of forty rooms, with electric lights and first-class dining-room — affords good accommodations. 121 INFORMATION FOR TOURISTS. There is usually ample time at Williams, between trains, for the ascent of Williams Mountain, which rises near the town to a height of 9,000 feet. Tourists will find the trip thoroughly enjoyable. It can be made in five hours on horseback in perfect safety. The trail is an easy one, first leading through a gently sloping path of pines, then steeply up to the wind-swept summit alongside a pretty stream bordered by thickets of quaking aspens. Chimney Rock, with its eagle's nest, is a noteworthy rock formation. On the summit is buried the pioneer scout. Bill Williams. From his resting-place there is a wide outlook on the eastern horizon. Kendricks, Sitgreaves and Williams mountains are also visible. Red Butte, thirty miles distant, is a prominent local landmark. Before the terminus is reached the train climbs a long, high ridge and enters Coconino Forest, which resembles a natural park. ELTOVAR HOTEL. The most unique, most comfortable, and one of the costliest resort hotels in the Southwest has recently been built by the Santa Fe at the railway terminus and not far from the head of Bright Angel Trail. It is named El Tovar, after Don Pedro Tovar, a Spanish conquistador whose name is linked with the discovery of the Grand Canyon by Coronado's men in 1540. It is under the general management of Mr. Fred Harvey. El Tovar is a long, low, rambling structure, built of native boulders and pine logs. From north to south the width is 327 feet; from east to west, 218 feet. The height varies from three to four stories. There are more than a hundred sleeping-rooms, with accommodations for upwards of 250 guests. The building is in complete harmony with the surroundings. Not a Waldorf-Astoria (admirable as that type is for a city), but a hotel that the traveler, seeking the best, will find wholly to his liking — a country clubhouse is the nearest type, but El Tovar is more than that. From every room one gets a glimpse of the Grand Canyon and Coconino Forest. Seven miles away by trail, and a mile, if measured straight downward, is the Colorado River, its tumult never reaching the upper stillness. The north rim is thirteen dizzy miles across. At some period of the day the sun enters every part of the hotel. There are spacious sheltered and open verandas and roof gardens, enabling guests to enjoy the sunshine and the invigorating mountain air. Everywhere a riot of color and beauty of form — a vision unspeakable. Some of the most attractive features are: A solarium — just the place for a sun bath should the day happen to be chilly. A music-room, which is artistically decorated and handsomely furnished. A clubroom, where may be found billiard and pool tables, shuffie-board, and other means of indoor enjoyment. The rendezvous — similar to the lounging room of a country club — finished in logs with huge stone fireplaces. Main dining-room, 38x89 feet — has log walls, a rough-board arched ceiling supported by great log trusses, and two stone fireplaces. On each side are private dining-rooms. The cuisine is Harvey's best. 122 INFORMATION FOR TOURISTS. Many of the bedrooms are en suite with bath. Hot and cold water, steam heat, and electric light are generously supplied. Among the minor comforts may be mentioned a telephone in each room, with direct office connection. El Tovar also has up-to-date culinary and laundry departments. The protection against fire is very complete. The plant furnishing heat, light, ice, power, and water is far enough removed to be unobjectionable. The sewage is perfectly disposed of, Merely that guests may have absolutely pure water to drink, it is brought from a spring 1 20 miles distant, filtered three times, and aerated. Kl Tovar not only has the advantage of being located in the midst of the world's grandest scenery, but it provides solid comfort, rest and recreation every day in the year. The climate here is cool in summer and generally mild in winter, with almost continual sunshine. The occasional midwinter snowstorms along the rim are usually of short duration. The hotel is conducted on the American plan; rates $4.00 a day and upwaids. Livery may be hired for drives along the rim. Trail animals and guides are furnished for trips down the trail. Hon">eback: rides may be taken, or one may saunter along winding paths where canyon and forest meet. The opportunities for sight-seeing are innumerable. It will be noted that the necessary expense for a stop-over of several days need not be very heavy. If one chooses to economize, there is opportunity to get cozy lodgings in cabin or tent at Bright Angel Camp, adjacent, for ^5^ c0i^ a night, each person, meals being furnished on European plan at Harvey cafe. . .The-aceommodations here are clean, wholesome, and thoroughly comfortable. Fifty yards from El Tovar is an exact reproduction of the curious two- and three-story stone and adobe dwellings of the Hopi Indians, together with several Navajo hogans. In the Hopi House are installed some of the prize-winning collections of Indian handiwork exhibited by Mr. Harvey at the St. Louis World's Fair. Here also live a small band of Hopis. Without exception these are the most primitive Indians in our country. Their ceremonies are hundreds of years old, the most famous being that of the snake dance. The men weave fine blankets and the women make pottery. Among the Navajos are blanket-weavers and silversmiths. Supais from Cataract Canyon fre- quently visit El Tovar. El Tovar furnishes the crowning reason why you should visit the Grand Canyon. DOWN BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL. The trail here is perfectly safe and is generally open the year round. In midwinter it is liable to be closed for a few days at the top by snow, but such blockade is only temporary. It reaches from the hotel four miles to the top of the granite wall imme- diately overlooking the Colorado River. At this point the river is 1,272 feet below, while the hotel on the rim is 3,158 feet above. The trip is commonly made on horse- back, accompanied by a guide; charges for trail stock and services of guide are moderate. A strong person, accustomed to mountain climbing, can make the round trip on foot in one day, by starting early enough; but the average traveler will soon discover that a horse is a necessity, especially for the upward climb. Eight hours are required for going down and coming back, allowing two hours for 123 THE RENDEZVOUS. Copyright, l»oi, by Detroit Photographic Co, THE MAIN DINING ROOM. INFORMATION FOR TOURISTS. lunch, rest and sight-seeing. Those wishing to reach the river leave the main trail at Indian Garden Spring and follow the downward course of Indian Garden and Pipe creeks. Provision is made* for those wishing to camp out at night on the river's edge, also at Indian Garden. DRIPPING SPRING TRAIL. About eight miles west of El Tovar is Boucher Trail, built many years ago by Louis Boucher. The upper section zigzags downward for more than three miles, fol- lowing a side ravine into Hermit Basin and across the abrupt face of a white sandstone cliff to Dripping Spring, where a small tent camp has been picturesquely located. Thence the trail continues down an easy slope for nearly two miles and then fearlessly out into the canyon on the top of the red sandstone wall and close to its edge. The pathway beyond and below to the river is not finished and is rarely used. The view at the "red-wall" terminus is unequaled. One seems to be suspended in mid-air, imprisoned on all sides by huge walls. The round trip. El Tovar to Dripping Spring, may be made in a day; there is an excellent wagon road by way of Rowe's Well. A feasible trail along the inner plateau connects Boucher and Cameron camps; distance about nineteen miles, and time required two days. GRAND VIEW. Grand View Hotel and Grand View Trail are reached by a pleasant forest drive of thirteen and one-half miles east from El Tovar. Grand View is a cozy inn, noted for its commanding situation and delightful sur- roundings. It has been open to visitors since the days of the old Flagstaff stage line. The original log structure is now devoted to the lounging and dining rooms, while a new building, near by, contains guest-rooms, bath, etc. Both buildings are warmed by steam and both have wide fire-places. The hotel stands upon the highest elevation of the south rim of the canyon. The broad piazzas, overlook a scene of vast extent. The canyon here makes its initial curve, swinging from the Painted Desert into the Kaibab Plateau. Across this portion of the canyon the view extends, including not only the wondrous abyss, but far beyond it the rugged wastes of the Painted Desert to the dome of Navajo Mountain, 120 miles away. Grand View Trail enters the canyon near Grand View Point. It is a safe, wide and carefully constructed trail, noted for its extensive and varied views. A trail recently built for convenience in packing ore from a mine in the canyon descends directly from Grand View Point, joining the main trail a short distance down. Half a mile down the rim Grand View Trail runs out upon an airy plateau called Horse-shoe Mesa. On this Mesa are comfortable cottages, and reguW meals are served to parties who spend a night or more here in the heart of the Grand Canyon. Trails lead from Horse-shoe Mesa in all directions into the lower depths of the canyon, to various remarkable outlooks, to the Colorado River at several points, and to unfamiliar parts of the interior of the canyon. The Limestone caves, on Horse-shoe Mesa, are caverns well worth a visit. The largest one may be penetrated for a quarter of a mile. 125 INFORMATION FOR TOURISTS. Outside of the Canyon, along its brink and about the great plateau, many walks, rides and drives may be taken from Grand View Hotel. f Moran, Bissell, Hollenbeck and other renowned points on the rim of the Grand Canyon are within a few hours of Grand View Hotel. The rim trail to Moran Point, where one may ride for two miles close along the edge, gives unequaled panoramic views of the depths below. Ruined cliff dwellings of a prehistoric race are a feature of interest all about Grand View. Rates at Grand View Hotel, or at the cottages in the canyon, or on camping trips, are ^3.00 to $4.00 per day, and |i8 to $25 per week. Stage fare, ^3.00 round trip; trunks, ^2.00 round trip. Saddle and pack animals, carriages and experienced guides supplied at reasonable rates. BASS' CAMP. At the western end of the granite gorge is Bass Trail, an easy route down to the Colorado River and up the other side to Point Sublime and Powell's Plateau. The magnificent panorama eastward from Havasupai Point takes in fifty miles of the canyon, while westward is the unique table-like formation which characterizes the lower reaches of the river. The views here, from both rims, are pronounced by noted artists and explorers to be unequaled. Present accommodations at Bass' Camp, near head of this trail, are fairly good, con- sisting of a frame cabin, several tents and good trail stock; wholesome meals are served. Bass' Camp is reached by team from El Tovar, twenty-three miles. The trip to Cataract Canyon is elsewhere described. ! FLAGSTAFF AND VICINITY. In his "Climbing Sunset Mountain" Professor Beecher has mentioned one of the many attractions for tourists in the vicinity of Flagstaff. The town itself is an interesting place, prettily situated in the heart of the San Fran- cisco uplift and surrounded by a pine forest. On a neighboring hill is the noted Lowell Observatory. Eight miles southeast from Flagstaff" — reached by a pleasant drive along a level road through tall pines — is the Walnut Canyon, a rent in the earth several hundred feet deep and three miles long, with steep terraced walls of limestone. Along the shelving terraces, under beetling projections of the strata, are scores of quaint cliff dwellings, the most famous group of its kind in this region. The larger abodes are divided into several compartments by cemented walls, many parts of which are still intact. It is believed that these cliff dwellers were of the same stock as the Pueblo Indians of to-day. Nine miles from Flagstaff and only half a mile from the old stage road to the Grand Canyon, upon the summit of an extinct crater, the remarkable ruins of the cave- dwellers may be seen. The magnificent San Francisco Peaks, visible from every part of the country within a radius of a hundred miles, lie just north of Flagstaff. There are three peaks which form one mountain. From Flagstaff" a road ten miles long has been constructed up 126 INFORMATION FOR TOURISTS. Humphrey's Peak, whose summit is 12,750 feet above sea level. The trip to the sum- mit and back is easily made in one day. There is also a first-class road from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon at Grand View, seventy-five miles, open for travel in spring, summer, and fall. A two days' trip each way by wagon. Supplies, camp outfits, and teams procurable at Flagstaff; cost of team and driver about $5.00 a day. A very enjoyable drive through pine forests and across green mesas, along the old stage route to the canyon. The summit of Humphrey's Peak affords a noble view, the panorama including the north wall of the Grand Canyon, the Painted Desert, the Moki villages, the Superstition Mountains near Phoenix, many lakes, and far glimpses over a wide circle. WHAT TO BRING. If much tramping is done stout, thick shoes should be provided. Ladies will find that short walking skirts are a convenience; divided skirts are preferable, but not essential, for the horseback journey down the zigzag trail. Traveling caps and (in summer) broad- brimmed straw hats are useful toilet adjuncts. Otherwise ordinary clothing will suffice. A good field glass and camera should be brought along. Divided skirts and straw hats may be rented at El Tovar and Grand View hotels. COST OF TRIP. The round-trip ticket rate, Williams to Grand Canyon and return, is only $6.50. Adding I4.00 to |8.oo for two days' stay at Canyon Hotel, I2.00 for part of a day at hotel in Williams, $2.50 for probable proportion of cost of guide, $3.00 for trail stock, and the total necessary expense of the three days' stop-over is about |2i. 00 for one person; each additional day only adds a few dollars to the cost for hotel. Stop-overs will be granted at Williams on railroad and Pullman tickets if advance application is made to train and Pullman conductors. Baggage may be stored in the station at Wiljiams free of charge by arrangement with ticket agent. Pullman sleeper service has been established to and from the Grand Canyon. LENGTH OF STAY. While one ought to remain a week or two, a stop-over of three days from the trans- continental trip will allow practically two days at the canyon. One full day should be devoted to an excursion down Bright Angel Trail, and the other can be given to carriage rides along the rim or a trip to Grand View. Another day — making a four-days' stop- over in all — will enable visitors to get more satisfactory views of this stupendous wonder. Most persons make the mistake of trying to see the canyon in too short a time. They rush in, rush around and rush out. That's the wrong way. The right way is to take it leisurely. Spend one night down in the canyon by the river, which means two days instead of one for the trail trip. Devote a whole day to one of the "points," just quietly trying to absorb the panorama. Another day for another "point." Walk along rim trails, or ride in the woods. Set aside an hour or two every day for idle dreams on the hotel veranda. See all there is at El Tovar and then tiy Grand View, coming back to El Tovar for a final look. You will never regret the extra time thus spent. 127 r^- ^* c// '^. 'K-A I BfJLB^ >.-4. '^ AVTEAU ^' Spring ^ *" A T'f l<^^^ ?A 'l^iY .]^ii:f^^8 1M^.:: !fi ^^K ?^v^<^j ^f:^^' -^. »l ^'. -^am ^o^^^?-^ .>^"y^ ^^! .^1^^ If oy J ..--fv .^^ \^ ■^^' Grind Vrcw'HoteK^;*'?-^''^ E S 4"R ^i 5^; ,; --^7-^:2^ ^U -"^^ ^ 7wl// V'^'i. ■'■i^ — '^5*^fr^^"b?- r^Z_ ,- Lt . I-- 't^^r^E \ u^ ^w. F O T? E ^srv^ ' — • *\ ^W^ /a^'^'' c^»° .A ; -^^Ocdai- Spn'iiff -/^E==Er=^= ^z^^^^^P^ R\A >J 6\\,4 C (ertcfrlck Pk. 0' leetf!/ />* •fr/ V • Ton** 4?. .^ SANTA A$H FORK] Spriny S!f Garland Raheh^,,' g « 6 8^^ SCALE OF MILO J* KMi.1 (HO*. CMICAOO. / -fl'/// Wmams oi-^* ,w.»W f i F O R E S Ti r DowSprinh-i i^' /xSpring '^^. ^^ -/ .NN5^ tl\« ca 'iffM FL R E S E R V ;E^ MAP OF GRAND CANYON OF ARIZONA. M: *'" mm if^-'iirir|0iL!)|6 BY W.J, BLACK Santa F