They were finally stopped altogether by a bayou and had to wait for a boat from the fort with which to cross it.  When they came finally to the crossing of the river itself to the Arizona side they had a slow and difficult time of it.  Sometimes the scow they used failed to reach the landing-place on the other side and the strong current would then sweep it two or three miles down the river before the men could get it to the shore.  The next operation would be to tow it back to some low place, where the animals on it could be put ashore.  This is a sample of the difficulties always encountered in crossing when the river was at flood.  From Yuma looking northward the river can be traced for about fifteen miles before it is lost in the mountains.  See cut on page 26.  Bartlett desired to explore scientifically down to the mouth, but the government failed to grant him the privilege.  He and Major Emory were not on good terms and there was a great deal of friction about all the boundary work, arising chiefly from the appointment of a civilian commissioner.  Bartlett mentions Leroux’s “late journey down the Colorado,” on which occasion he met with some Cosninos, but just where he started from is not stated, though it was certainly no higher up than the mouth of the Grand Wash.

In 1852 the steamer Uncle Sam was brought out on a schooner from San Francisco and put together at the mouth of the river, but after a few months she most strangely went to the bottom, while her owner, Turnbull, was on the way from San Francisco with new machinery for her.  Turnbull came in the schooner General Patterson, which was bearing stores for the fort.  When the Patterson arrived at the mouth of the Colorado, she was able to sail easily up the river for thirty-three miles because Turnbull was met by some of his men who had been left here to take soundings, and for the first time a vessel was sailing with some knowledge of the channel.  The river, however, was unusually high, which was an advantage.  The wide flatlands on both sides were inundated to a distance of fifteen miles.  The current ran at a seven- or eight-mile rate and was loaded with floating snags and tree-trunks to repel the invader.  In proceeding in a small boat to the fort, Turnbull, in a distance of 120 miles, found but two dry spots on the bank where he could camp.

A new steamer was soon afloat on this fickle and impetuous tide, the General Jesup, owned by Captain Johnson, who had now had three or four years’ experience in this navigation had been awarded the contract for transporting the supplies from the mouth, to the fort.  His new boat, however, exploded seven months later, and it seemed as if the Fates had joined with the treacherous river to prevent successful steam navigation here.  But Johnson would not give up.  Before twelve months had passed he was stemming the turbulent flood with another steamer, the Colorado, a stern-wheeler, 120 feet long.  As if propitiated by the compliment of having its name bestowed on this craft, the river treated it fairly well, and it seems to have survived to a good old age.  The Jesup was soon repaired.