and round in the large whirlpools despite every effort we made to prevent this performance.  In fact, we had no control of the craft in this distance, and it was fortunate that there was nothing worse to be here encountered.  The whirlpools were the most perfect specimens I ever saw.  Usually they were about twenty feet in diameter, drawing evenly down toward the vortex, the centre being probably about eighteen inches to two feet below the rim.  The vortex at the top was about six to ten inches in diameter, diminishing in five or six feet to a mere point at the bottom.  Our boats were twenty-two feet long, and as they were turned around in these whirls they about reached across them, while we could look over the side and see the vortex sucking down every small object.  The opposite of these was the fountains, or boils, where the surface was exactly the reverse of the whirls:  a circular mass of water about twenty feet in diameter would suddenly lift itself a foot or two above the general surface with a boiling, swirling movement.  As I remember them they were usually the forerunners of the whirlpools.

The river was still on the rise, scoring at the last camp another three feet.  With such a dashing current the time we made where we were not compelled to move cautiously was admirable.  On this day fourteen miles were traversed, we ran twenty-three rapids, and, what pleased us most, we saw the granite disappear, and the comfortable-looking red strata were again beside us.  The river widened somewhat, and was now about two hundred and fifty feet.  A cascade was passed on the 7th, which we recognized as one Beaman, who had climbed up to it during the winter, from the mouth of the Kanab, had photographed.  From here to the Kanab was ten miles, and we sailed along with lightened hearts, knowing that our sadly depleted and half-ruined stock of rations would soon be replenished, and that mail from the world would be delivered by the pack-train we expected to find there.  Late in the afternoon we arrived at the narrow cleft, and our men, who had waited long, were overjoyed to greet us once more, for, as we were several days overdue, they had been filled with forebodings, and had made up their minds they would never see us again.

From the Little Colorado we had travelled over ninety difficult miles, run one hundred and thirty-one rapids, made seven portages, and let down six times.  The water had now fallen again some three feet, but it was still so high that it had backed up into the side canyon, where we ran the boats on account of an excellent camping-place.  Sunday was spent resting here, and Thompson took observations for time.  On Monday morning we expected to pack up again and proceed down the gorge, but Powell, instead of directing this course, announced that he had decided to end the river work at this point on account of the extreme high water, which would render impassable the rapid where the Rowlands and Dunn had left.  In addition,