This accomplished, another of the same nature, with an equally fierce growl, discovered itself not far below, and a camp was made where we landed at its head.
This was ten miles below our starting-point, and seemed to be the spot where a band of ten mining prospectors were wrecked about a month before.

They had gone in to the mouth of the Paria on a prospecting trip, and concluded they would examine the Grand Canyon.

Consequently they built a large raft, and after helping themselves to a lot of our cooking utensils and other things from some caches we had made when we went out from the river for our winter's work, they sailed, away, expecting to accomplish wonders.

Ten miles, to the first bad rapids, was the extent of their voyage, and there they were fortunate to escape with their lives, but nothing else, and by means of ladders made from driftwood, they reached once more the outer world, having learned the lesson the Colorado is sure to teach those who regard it lightly.

We made a portage at the place and enjoyed a good laugh when we looked at the vertical rocks and pictured the prospectors dismally crawling out of the roaring waters with nothing left but the clothes on their backs.