Thursday, September 1.--We did not break camp till nearly ten o'clock this morning, the pack-train crossing Cascade creek at its head, and coming into the river trail about two miles above the upper fall. The more direct trail--shorter by one and a half miles--runs along the bank of the river. If we had not decided, last night, that we would move on to-day, I think that every member of the party would have been glad to stay another day at the cañon and falls. I will, however, except out of the number our comrade Jake Smith. The afternoon of our arrival at the cañon (day before yesterday), after half an hour of inspection of the falls and cañon, he said: "Well, boys, I have seen all there is, and I am ready to move on." However, the perceptible decline in our larder, and the uncertainty of the time to be occupied in further explorations, forbid more than these two days' stay at the falls and cañon. The sun this morning shone brightly, and its rays were reflected upon the sides of the dismal cañon--so dark, and gray, and still--enlivening and brightening it. To-day has been warm, and nature this morning seemed determined that our last look should be the brightest, for the beauties of the entire landscape invited us to make a longer stay, and we lingered till the last moment, that the final impression might not be lost. Pursuing our journey, at two miles above the falls we crossed a small stream which we named "Alum" creek, as it is strongly impregnated with alum. [Illustration: W.C. Gillette.]