Here a deer was brought in by one of the men, and, as they killed a mountain sheep farther up, they had not suffered for fresh meat.  The entrance to the next canyon was very abrupt, and they were soon whirling along on a swift current.  Though there were many rapids, landings were easy, and there was plenty of standing room everywhere, so that in two days they had the pleasure of pulling out of this Split Mountain Canyon into the Wonsits Valley, the longest opening in the whole line of canyons.  Thus far, no Amerinds had been seen, not even signs of them, but here they found some tipi poles and the dead embers of a camp-fire, showing that other human beings besides themselves had traversed the lands now about them.  Pushing ahead over the sluggish waters of the river in this valley, they were not long in arriving at the mouth of the Uinta River, where Powell and two others walked out to the Ute Agency, about forty miles distant up the Uinta.  One of the crew of the wrecked No-Name, Frank Goodman, here decided that he had seen all the canyons his education required and took his departure.  This was not unwelcome to Powell, for the boats were still heavily loaded and the three men who had composed the crew of the wrecked boat were no longer actually required.  Starting again, they arrived, not far below the mouth of the Uinta, at an island where a small crop had been planted by a “squaw-man,"* who had visited Powell’s camp the previous winter.  On that occasion he had disclosed his intention of tilling this place and invited Powell to help himself when he passed there in his boats.  The man was not at the farm, and nothing was ripe, but Hall suggested that potato-tops make good “greens.”  A quantity was therefore secured, and, at the noon stop, cooked and eaten, with the obvious result that all were violently sick.  Luckily, the sickness was brief, and they were able to proceed by the middle of the afternoon.  Often, the longing, by men living on bacon and beans, for something fresh in the vegetable line, leads to foolish experiments.

* A white man married to a squaw, and living with the tribe.

This Wonsits Valley soon came to an end and once more the rocks closed in, forming a canyon lacking the vegetation that had accompanied the cliffs along the river above.  Because of this general barren appearance the gorge was called the Canyon of Desolation.  On July 11th, they approached a rapid which seemed at first glance no more difficult to run than many they had successfully dashed through.  The leading boat by Powell’s direction pulled, into it, but this move was no sooner made than he perceived that at the bottom the river turned sharply to the left and the waters were piled against the foot of the cliff in an alarming manner.  An effort was made to land, but as they had shortly before broken one oar and lost another, the two remaining were not sufficient to propel the boat with force enough to reach the desired point.  At the same time, a huge wave striking