CHAPTER X
THE EXPEDITION BEGINS
"After all, there is a place still untouched by humanity, where skiesare unmarred and the way leads through uncharted beauty. When I haveearned the right, I shall go there again."--_Enoch's Diary_.
Before dawn the camp fires were lighted and the various breakfasts werein preparation. When these had been eaten there was light from thepale sky above by which to complete the packing of the boats.
These were strongly built, wooden skiffs with three water tightcompartments in each; one amidships, one fore and one aft, with decksflush with the gunwales. There was room between the middle and endcompartments for the oarsmen to sit. The man who worked thesteersman's oar sat on the rear compartment. In these compartmentswere packed all the dunnage, clothing, food, tools, surveying andgeological instruments and cameras. Each man was allowed about fiftypounds of personal luggage. Everything that water could hurt waspacked in rubber bags.
Milton was troubled when he found that Enoch had no change of shoes.
"You'll reach camp each night," said he, "soaked to the skin. You musthave warm, dry clothing to change to. Shoes are especially important.Jonas must have them, too."
"How about Indian moccasins, Mr. Milton?" asked Jonas. "I bought threepairs while I was with Miss Diana."
"Well, they're better than nothing," grumbled Milton. "Are you ready,Harden?"
"Aye! Aye! sir!" said Harden, pulling his belt in tightly. "Are youall set, Ag and Jonas?"
"All set, Harden," Agnew picked up his oar. "Are you ready, Matey?" toJonas, who was saying good-by in a whisper to Na-che.
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be, Mr. Agnew," groaned Jonas. "Good-by,everybody!" stepping gingerly into the boat.
"All aboard then, Judge and Forr," cried Milton. "I'll shove off."
"Good-by, Diana! Good-by, Curly and Mack!" Enoch waved his hand andtook his place, and the racing water seized the boats. Hardly hadEnoch turned to look once more at the four watching on the beach, whenthe boats shot round the curving western wall. For the first halfhour, the water was smooth and swift, sweeping between walls that wereabrupt and verdureless and offered not so much as a finger hold for alanding place.
Enoch, following instruction did not try to row at first. He satquietly watching the swift changing scenery, feeling awkward and alittle helpless in his life preserver.
"We're due, sometime this morning, to strike some pretty stiffcataracts," said Milton, "but the records show that we can shoot mostof them. Keep in to the left wall, Forr, I want to squint at that bendin the strata."
They swung across the stream, and as they did so they caught a glimpseof Jonas. He was crouched in the bottom of the boat, his eyes rollingabove his life preserver.
"Didn't Na-che give you that Navaho charm, Jonas?" called Forrester.
"It'll take more than a charm to help poor old Jonas," said Enoch. "Ireally think he'll like it in a day or so. He's got good pluck."
"He's only showing what all of us felt on our maiden trip," chuckledMilton. Then he added, quickly, "Listen, Forr!"
Above the splash of the oars and the swift rush of the river rose asound like the far roar of street traffic.
"Our little vacation is over," commented Forrester.
"Easy now, Forr! We'll land for observation before we tackle a racketlike that. Let the current carry us. Be ready to back water when Ishout." He raised his voice. "Harden, don't follow too closely! Youknow your failing!"
They rounded a curving wall, the current carrying them, Milton said, atleast ten miles an hour. A short distance now, and they saw spraybreaking high in the middle of the stream.
"We'll land here," said Milton, steering to a great pile of bowldersagainst the right wall.
Enoch watched with keen interest the preparation for the descent.First sticks were thrown into the water, to catch the trend of the maincurrent. Milton pointed out to Enoch that if the stick were deflectedagainst one wall or another, great care had to be exercised to preventthe boats being dashed against the walls in like manner. But, he said,if the current seemed to run a fairly unobstructed course, it washopeful that the boats would go through. There were a number of rocksprotruding from the water, but the current appeared to round thesecleanly and Milton gave the order to proceed. They worked backupstream a short distance so as to catch the current straight prow on,and in a moment they were dashing through a sea of roaring waves thatdrenched them to the skin.
Forrester and Milton steered a zigzag course about the menacing rocks,grazing and bumping them now and again, but emerging finally, withoutaccident, in quieter waters. Here they hugged the shore and waited forHarden's boat, the Mary, to come down. And come it did, balancinguncannily on the top of the waves, with Jonas' yells sounding evenabove the uproar of the waters.
"More of it below, Harden," said Milton as the Mary shot alongside.
More indeed! It seemed to Enoch that the first rapid was child's playto the one that followed. The jutting rocks were more frequent. Thefall greater. The waves more menacing. But they shot it safely untilthey reached its foot and there an eddy caught them and carried themback upstream in spite of all that could be done. Enoch seized theoars that were in readiness beside him and pulled with all his mightbut to no avail. And suddenly the Mary rushed out of the mist strikingthem fairly amidship. The Ida half turned over, but righted herselfand the Mary darted off. Milton shouted hoarsely, Forrester and Enochobeyed blindly and after what seemed to Enoch an endless struggle,spray and waves suddenly ceased and they found themselves in quieterwaters where the Mary awaited them.
Harden and Agnew were laughing. "Thought you knew an eddy when you sawone, Milt!" cried Agnew.
"I don't know anything!" grinned Milton, "except that Jonas is going tobe too scared to cook."
"If ever I get to land," retorted Jonas, "I'll cook something for athanksgiving to the Lord that you all will never forget."
They examined the next fall and passed through it successfully. TheCanyon was widening now and an occasional cedar tree could be seen.Enoch was vaguely conscious, too, that the colors of the walls weremore brilliant. But the ardors of the rapids gave small opportunityfor aesthetic observations.
Curiously enough, after the passage of this last fall the waters didnot subside in speed, though the waves disappeared. The spray ofanother fall was to be seen beyond.
"We mustn't risk shooting her without observation," cried Milton."Make for that spit of sand with the cedars on it, fellows."
Enoch and Forrester put their backs into their strokes in theirendeavor to guide the Ida to the place indicated, which appeared to bethe one available landing spot. But the current carried them at suchvelocity that when within half a dozen feet of the shore it seemedimpossible to stop and make the landing.
"Overboard!" shouted Milton.
All three plunged into the water, clinging to the gunwale. The waterwas waist deep. For a few feet boat and men were dragged onward. Thenthey found secure foothold on the rocky river bottom and, with hugeeffort, beached the Ida. Scarcely was this done, when the Mary hove inview and with Milton shouting directions, they rushed once more intothe current to help with the landing.
"The cook and the bacon both are in your boat, Harden!" chuckledMilton, "or you'd be getting no such delicate attentions from the Ida."
Jonas crawled stiffly out of his compartment. Enoch began preparationfor a fire, white the others busied themselves with notes andobservations. It was 90 degrees on the little sandy beach and the wetclothing was not chilling. They ate enormously of Jonas's dinner, thenthe Survey men scattered to their work for an hour or so, while Enochexplored the region. There was no getting to the top of the walls, sohe contented himself with crawling gingerly over the rocks to a pointwhere a little spring bubbled out of a narrow cave opening. Peeringthrough this, Enoch saw that it was dimly lighted, and he crawledthrough the water.
To his astonishment, he was in a great circula
r amphitheater, a hundredfeet in diameter, domed to an enormous height, with the blue skyshowing through a rift at the top. The little spring trickled down thewall, now dropping sheer in spray, now trickling in a delicate,glistening sheet. But the greatest wonder of the cave was in thetexture of its walls, which appeared to Enoch to be of purest marble ofa deep shell pink and translucent creamy white. Moisture had collectedon the walls and each tiny globule of water seemed to hold a miniaturerainbow in its heart. There was a holy sort of loveliness about thespot, and before he returned to the rugged adventure outside, Enochpulled off his hat and christened the place Diana's Chapel. Nor didhe, on his arrival at the camp, tell of his find.
Shortly after two o'clock Milton ordered all hands aboard. But beforethis he had shown them all the map, adding a rough sketch of his own.The next rapid appeared to be no more dangerous than the previous one.But below it the river widened out into a circular bay, a great tureenwithin which the waters moved with an oil-like smoothness. But whenMilton threw a stick into this strange basin, it was whirled the entirecircumference of the bay with a velocity that all the men agreed bodedill for any boat that did not cling to the wall. The west end of thebay, where it was all but blocked by the closing in of the Canyonsides, could not be seen from the rocks where the men stood. But theold maps reported a steep fall which must be portaged.
"Cling to the right-hand wall," ordered Milton. "If you steer out,Harden, for the sake of the short cut, you may be lost. The reportsshow that two other boats were lost here. Cling to the wall! When wereach the mouth we must go ashore again and examine the falls. Be sureyour life preservers are strapped securely."
"Mr. Milton," said Jonas, "you better let me get my hands on a oar. IfI got to die, I'm going to die fighting."
"Good stuff, Jonas!" exclaimed Harden. "Can you row?"
"Brought up on the Potomac," replied Jonas.
"All right, folks," cried Milton. "We're off."
The Ida would have shot the rapid successfully, but for one importantpoint. It was necessary, in order to land on the right side of thewhirlpool, to steer to the right of a tall, finger-like rock, thatprotruded from the water at the bottom of the rapids. About a boat'slength from this rock, however, a sudden wave shot six feet into theair, throwing the Ida off its course, and drenching the crew, so thatthey entered the churning tureen at a speed of twenty miles an hour andalmost at the middle of the stream.
"Pull to the right wall! To the right!" roared Milton. But he mightas well have roared to the wind. Enoch and Forrester rose from theirseats and threw the whole weight of their bodies on their oars. Butthe noiseless power of the whirlpool thrust the Ida mercilessly towardthe center.
"Harder!" panted Milton, straining with all his might at the steeringoar. "Put your back into her, Judge! Bend to it, Forr!"
Enoch's breath came in gasps. His palms, the cords of his wrists feltpowerless. His toe muscles cramped in agony. As in a mist he saw theright wall recede, felt the boat twist under his knees like adisobedient horse. Suddenly there was a crack as of a pistol shotbehind him. One of Forrester's oars had snapped. Forrester drew inthe other and crawled back to add his weight to the steering oar.
"It's up to you, Judge!" cried Milton.
They were in the center of the bay now and the boat began to spin. Forone terrible moment it seemed as if an overturn were imminent. Out ofthe tail of his eyes, Enoch saw the Mary hugging the right wall.
"Judge!" shouted Milton. "If you can back water into that rough spotsix feet to your right, I think we can stop the spin."
Enoch was too spent to reply but he gathered every resource in his bodyto make one more effort. The boat slowly edged into the rough spot andfor a moment the spin ceased.
"Now shoot her downstream! We'll have to trust to the Mary to keep usfrom entering the falls," Milton shouted.
With Enoch giving all that was left in him to the oars, and Forresterand Milton steering with their united strength and skill, the Idaslowly worked toward the narrow opening which marked the head of thefalls. The crew of the Mary had landed and Harden stood on theoutermost rock at the opening, swinging a coil of rope, while Agnewcrawled up behind him with another. Jonas hung onto the Mary's rope.
Perhaps a half dozen boat lengths from the falls the whirling motion ofthe water ceased, and it leaped ferociously toward the narrow opening.When the Ida felt this straight pull, Milton roared:
"Back her, Judge, back her! Now the rope, Harden! You too, Ag!"
Her prow was beyond the opening before the speed of the Ida was stoppedby the ropes. A moment later her crew had dropped flat on the rocks,panting and exhausted.
"Well, Milt, of all the darn fools!" exclaimed Harden. "After tellingus to keep to the right, what did you try to do yourself? If you'dgone inside that big finger rock at the end of the rapid you'd have hadno trouble."
"I never had a chance to go inside that rock," panted Milton. "Apot-hole spouted a boat's length ahead and threw me clear to the left."
"Say," said Agnew, "we got some crew in our boat now. Jonas, you aresome little oarsman!"
"Scared as ever, Jonas?" asked Enoch.
"I wasn't never so much scared, you know, boss, as I was nervous. Butthis charm is sure a good one. If we can live through this here day,we can live through anything. I want you to wear it, to-morrow, boss.Seems like the head boat needs it more'n us folks."
Jonas' liquid black eyes twinkled. Enoch laughed. "If I hadn't knownyou were a good sport, Jonas, I'd never have let you come with us.Keep your charm, old man. I don't expect ever to gather togetherenough strength to get into the boat again!"
"Nobody's going to try to get in to-night," said Milton, withoutlifting his head from the rocks on which he lay. "We camp right here.It's four o'clock anyhow."
"Then I've something still left to be thankful for!" Enoch closed hiseyes with a deep sigh of relief.
When he next opened them it was dusk. Above him, on the narrow canyontop, gleamed the wonder of the desert stars. There was a glow offirelight on the rocks about him. Enoch sat up. It was aninhospitable spot for a camp. The roar of the falls was harsh andmenacing. The canyon walls shot two thousand feet into the air oneither side of the sliding waters. Enoch was suddenly oppressed by avague sense of suffocation. He realized, fully, for the first timethat the menace of the Canyon was very real; that should a sudden riseof the waters come at this point, there was no climbing out, no goingback; that should the boats be lost---- He shook himself, rose stifflyand joined the group around the fire.
"Ship ahoy, Judge!" cried Harden. "Are you still traveling in circles?"
"Humph!" grunted Milton. "The Judge may be a tenderfoot in the Canyon,but he's no tenderfoot in a boat. Ever on a college crew, Judge?"
"Yes, Columbia," replied Enoch.
"I thought you'd raced! Jove, how you did heave the old tub round!Jonas, how about grub for the Judge?"
"How come you to think you have to tell me to look out for my boss, Mr.Milton?" grumbled Jonas, coming up with a pie tin loaded with beans andbacon.
"Hello, Jonas, old man! What do you think of this parlor, bedroom andbath?" asked Enoch.
"I feel like Joseph in the pit, boss! Folks back home wouldn't neverbelieve me if Mr. Agnew hadn't promised to take some pictures of me andmy boat. That's an awful good boat, the Mary, boss. She is some boat!Did you see me jerk her round?"
"No, I missed that, Jonas. I was a little preoccupied at the time. Isto-day a fair sample of every day, you fellows?"
"Lately, yes," replied Forrester. "To-morrow'll be a bell ringer too,from the looks of that portage. Need any help on those dishes, Jonas,before I go to bed?"
"All done, thanks," answered Jonas. "Say, Mr. Milton, you know what Iwas thinking? Mary's no name for a sassy, gritty boat like ours. Letme give her a good name."
"What name, for instance?" demanded Harden.
Jonas cleared his throat. "I was thinking of the Na-che."
>
"My word!" exclaimed Harden. "Say, Ag, would you want our boat renamedthe Na-che?"
"Who'd repaint the name?" asked Agnew carefully. "That's the pointwith me."
"The trouble with you, Ag," said Harden, "is that you haven't any soul."
"I'd do the painting," Jonas went on eagerly. "I was thinking ofgetting her all fixed up with that can of paint I see to-day. Redpaint, it was."
"Do you think that Na-che would mind our making free with her name?"Milton's tone was serious.
"Mind!" cried Jonas. "Well, if you knew women like I do you'd neverask a question like that! A woman would rather have a boat or a racehorse named after her any time than have a baby named for her. I knowwomen!"
"In that case, let's rename the Mary," said Milton. "Everybody readyto turn in?"
"I am, sir," replied Harden. "Jonas, you turn off the lights and putthe cat down cellar. Good night, everybody!"
Jonas chuckled and hobbled off to his blankets. It was not seveno'clock when the rude camp was silent and every soul in it in profoundslumber.
Enoch was stiff and muscle-sore in the morning but he ate breakfastwith a ravenous appetite and with a keen interest in the day's program.In response to his questions Milton said:
"We unload the boats and make the dunnage up into fifty pound loads.Then we look over the trail. Sometimes we have merely to get up on ourtwo legs and walk it. Other times we have to make trail even forourselves, let alone for the boats. Sometimes we can portage thefreight and lower the boats through the water by tow ropes. But forthis falls, there's nothing to do but to make trail and drag the boatsover it."
"It's no trip for babes!" exclaimed Enoch. "That's certain! Do youlike the work, Milton?"
"It's a work no one would do voluntarily without liking it," repliedthe young man. "I like it. I wouldn't want to give my life to it,but--" he paused to look over toward the others busily unloading theNa-che,--"but nothing will ever do again for me what this experiencehas."
"And may I ask what that is?" Enoch's voice was eager.
Milton searched Enoch's face carefully, then answered slowly."Sometime when we are having a rest, I'll tell you, if you really wantto know."
"Thanks! And now set me to work, Captain," said Enoch.
The way beside the falls was nothing more than a narrow ledgecompletely covered with giant bowlders. Beyond the falls, the riverhurled itself for a quarter of a mile against broken rocks that madethe passage of a boat impossible. It was a long portage. After thebowlder-strewn ledge was passed, however, it was not necessary to maketrail, for although the shore was strewn with broken rock anddriftwood, the way was fairly open.
After the contents of the boats had been made up into rough packs, bothcrews attacked the trail-making. It was mid-morning before pick-ax,shovel and crowbar had opened up a way which Jonas claimed was fit onlyfor kangaroos or elephants. Rough as it was, when Milton declared itfit for their purposes, the rest without protest heaved the packs totheir shoulders.
It was hot at midday in the Canyon. The thermometer registered 98degrees in the shade. Enoch, following Milton, dropped his third packat the end of the quarter mile portage and sat down beside it.
"Old man!" he groaned, "you've got to give me a ten minutes' rest."
Milton grinned and nodded sympathetically. "Take all the time youwant, Judge!"
"I'm ashamed," said Enoch, "but don't forget you fellows have had tenmonths of this, as against my two days."
"I don't forget for a minute, Judge. And just let me tell you that ifever I were on trial for a serious offense of any kind I'd be perfectlysatisfied to be tried before a real he-man, like you." And Miltondisappeared over the trail, leaving Enoch with a warm glow in hisheart, such as he had scarcely felt since his first public speech wonthe praise of the newspapers.
For a quarter of an hour he sat with his back against a half buriedmesquite log smoking, and now eying the magnificent sheer crimson wallwhich lay across the river, now wondering where Diana was and nowcontemplating curiously the sense of his own unimportance which theCanyon was thrusting into his consciousness more persistently everyhour. Jonas joined him for the last part of his rest, but when Miltonannounced that they had finished the packing and must now portage theboats, Jonas was on the alert.
"That name isn't dry yet!" he exclaimed. "I got to watch the prow ofmy boat myself," and he started hurriedly back over the trail, Enochfollowing him more slowly.
Sometimes lifting, sometimes skidding on drift logs, sometimes draggingby main strength, the six men finally landed the Ida and the Na-che inquiet waters. Jonas and Agnew prepared a simple dinner and immediatelyafter they embarked. For two hours the river flowed swiftly andquietly between sheer walls of stratified granite, white and paleyellow, shot with rose. Now and again a cedar, dwarfed and distorted,found toe hold between the strata and etched its deep green against thewhite and yellow.
About four o'clock the river widened and the walls were broken bylateral canyons that led back darkly and mysteriously into the bowelsof the desert. For half an hour more Milton guided the Ida onward.Then Enoch cried, "Milton, see that brook!" and he pointed to atumbling little stream that issued from one of the side canyons.
Milton at once called for a landing on the grassy shore beside thebrook. Never was there a sweeter spot than this. Willows bent overthe brook and long grass mirrored itself within its pebbly depths for amoment before the crystal water joined the muddy Colorado. The Canyonno longer overhung the river suffocatingly, but opened widely, showingbehind the fissured white granite peaks, crimson and snow capped andappalling in their bigness.
"Here's where we put in a day, boys!" exclaimed Milton. "I'm sure wecan scramble to the top here, somehow, and get a general idea of thecountry."
His crew cheered this statement enthusiastically. The landing waseasily made and the boats were beached and unloaded.
"Never thought I could unload a boat again without bursting intotears," said Enoch, grunting under three bed rolls he was carrying upto the willows, "but here I am, full of enthusiasm!"
"You need a lot of it down here, I can tell you," growled Forrester,who had skinned his chin badly in a fall that morning.
"You look like a goat, Forr," said Harden, sympathetically, as he set afolding table close to the spot where Jonas was kindling a fire.
"I'd rather look like a goat than a jack-ass," returned Forrester withan edge to his voice.
"Forr," said Milton, "don't you want to try your luck at some fish forsupper? The salmon ought to be interested in a spot like this."
Forrester's voice cleared at once. "Sure! I'd be glad to," he said,and went off to unload his fishing tackle. When he was out of hearing,Milton said sharply to Harden:
"Why can't you let him alone, Hard! You know how touchy he is whenanything's the matter with him."
"I'm sorry," replied Harden shortly.
Enoch glanced with interest from one man to the other, but saidnothing, not even when, Milton's back being turned, Harden winked athim. And when Forrester returned with a four-pound river salmon, therewas no sign of irritation in his face or manner.
This night, for the first time, they sat around the fire, luxuriatingin the thought that for the next twenty-four hours they were free ofthe terrible demands of the river. Forrester possessed a good tenorvoice and sang, Jonas joining with his mellow baritone. Harden, lyingclose to the flames, read a chapter from "David Harum," the one book ofthe expedition. Agnew, on request, told a long and involved story of aChinese laundryman and a San Francisco broker which evoked muchlaughter. Then Milton, as master of ceremonies, turned to Enoch:
"Now then, Judge, do your duty!"
"I haven't a parlor trick to my name," protested Enoch.
"I like what you call our efforts!" cried Harden. "Hit him for me, Ag!He's closest to you."
"Not after the way he wallops the Ida," grunted Agnew. "Let Milt doit."
"Boss," said Jonas suddenly, "tell 'e
m that poem about mercy I heardyou give at--at that banquet at our house."
Enoch smiled, took his pipe from his lips, and began:
"'The quality of mercy is not strained, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven, Upon the place beneath--'"
Enoch paused a moment. The words held a new and soul-shatteringsignificance for him. Then as the others waited breathlessly, he wenton. His beautiful, mellow voice, his remarkable enunciation, themagnetism of his personality stirred his little audience, just asthousands of greater audiences had been stirred by these same qualities.
When he had finished, there was a profound silence until Milton said:
"That's the only thing I have heard said in the Canyon that didn'tsound paltry."
"If any of the rest of us had repeated it, though, it might havesounded so." Harden's tone was dry.
"Shakespeare couldn't sound paltry anywhere!" exclaimed Enoch.
"Hum!" sniffed Agnew. "Depends on what and when you're quoting. Giveus another, Judge."
Enoch gazed thoughtfully at the fire for a moment, then slowly andquietly he gave them the prayer of Habakkuk. The liquid phrases rolledfrom his lips, echoed in the Canyon, then dropped into silence. Enochsat with his great head bowed, his sensitive mouth compressed as ifwith pain. His friends stared from him to one another, then one by oneslipped away to their blankets. When Enoch looked up, only Milton wasleft.
"And so," said Enoch, "the Canyon has been a great experience for you,Milton!"
"Yes, Judge. I became engaged to a girl who is a Catholic. I am aProtestant, one of the easy going kind that never goes to church. Yet,do you know, when she insisted that I turn Catholic, I wouldn't do it?We had a fearful time! I didn't have any idea there was so much creedin me as I discovered I had. In the midst of it the opportunity camefor this Canyon work, and this trip has changed the whole outlook oflife for me. Judge, creeds don't matter any more than bridges do to astream. They are just a way of getting across, that's all. Creeds maycome and creeds may go, but God goes on forever. Nothing changes truereligion. Christ promulgated the greatest system of ethics the worldhas known. The ethics of God. He put them into practical working formfor human beings. Whatever creed helps you to live the teachings ofChrist most truly, that's the true creed for you. That's what theCanyon's done for me. And when I get out, I'm going back to Alice andlet her make of me whatever will help her most. I'm safe. I've gotthe creed of the Colorado Canyon!"
Enoch looked at the freckled, ruddy face and smiled. "Thank you,Milton. You've given me something to think about."
"I doubt if you lack subjects," replied Milton drily. "But--well, Ihave an idea you came out here looking for something. There are linesaround your eyes that say that. So I just thought I'd hand on to youwhat I got."
Enoch nodded and the two smoked for a while in silence. Then Enochsaid in a low voice:
"Do you have trouble with Forrester and Harden?"
"Yes, constant friction. They're both fine fellows, but naturallyantagonistic to each other."
"A fellow may be ever so fine," said Enoch, "yet lack the sense of teamplay that is absolutely essential in a job like this."
"Exactly," replied Milton. "The great difficulty is that you can'tjudge men until they're undergoing the trial. Then it's too late. InPowell's first expedition, soon after the Civil War, there was constantfriction between Powell and three of his men. At last, although theyhad signed a contract to stick by him, they deserted him."
"How was that?" asked Enoch with interest.
"They simply insisted on being put ashore and they climbed out of theCanyon with the idea of getting to some of the Mormon settlements. Butthe Indians killed them almost at once, poor devils! Powell got thestory of it on his second expedition. The history of those twoexpeditions, I think, are as glorious as any chapter in our Americanannals."
"Was it so much harder than the work you are doing?"
"There is no comparison! We're simply following the trail that Powellblazed. Think of his superb courage! These terrible waters wereenshrouded in mystery and fear. He did not know even what kind ofboats could live in them. Hostile Indians marauded on either hand.And as near as I recall the only settlements he could call on, if hesucceeded in clambering out of the Canyon, were Ft. Defiance in NewMexico, and Mormon settlements, miles across the desert in Utah."
"Hum!" said Enoch slowly, "it doesn't seem to me that things are somuch better now, that we need to boast about them. There are noIndians, to be sure, but the river is about all human endurance andingenuity can cope with, just as it was in Powell's day."
"She's a bird, all right!" sighed Milton. "Well, Judge, I'm going toturn in. To-morrow's another day! Good night."
"Good night, Captain!" replied Enoch. He threw another stick ofdriftwood on the fire and after a moment's thought fetched the blackdiary from his rubber dunnage bag. When the fire was clear and bright,he began to write.
"Diana, you were wrong. No matter how strenuous the work is, you arenever out of the background of my thoughts. But at least I am havingsurcease from grieving for you. I have had no time to dwell on thefact that you cannot belong to me. I am afraid to come out of theCanyon. Afraid that when these wonderful days of adventure are over,the knowledge that I must not ask you to marry me will descend on melike a stifling fog. As for Brown! Diana, why not let me kill him!I'd be willing to stand before any jury in the world with his blood onmy hands. What he has done to me is typical of Brown and all hisworks. He is unclean and clever, a frightful combination. Considerthe class of readers he has! The majority of the people who readBrown, read only Brown. His readers are the great commonalty ofAmerica, the source, once, of all that was best in our life. Browntells them nasty stories, not about people alone, but about systems;systems of money, systems of work, systems of government. And becausenasty stories are always luscious reading, and because it is easier tobelieve evil than good about anything, twice every day, as he produceshis morning and evening editions, Brown is polluting the head waters ofour national existence. I say, why not let me kill him? What moreuseful and direct thing could I do than rid the nation of him? And ODiana, when I think of the smut to which he coupled your loveliness, Ifeel that I am less than a man to have hesitated this long."
Enoch closed the book, replaced it in the bag, and sat for a long hourstaring into the fire. Then he went to bed.