The Two Great Canyons: Excerpts From Letters Written on a Western JourneyCole, Cyrenus
History
The Two Great Canyons: Excerpts From Letters Written on a Western Journey
Cole, Cyrenus
Colorado River (Colo.-Mexico); Grand Canyon (Ariz.); Yellowstone National Park
After leaving the lake, the waters in the river flow on as they do in
any other river, leisurely and calmly. The water is wonderfully clear,
coming from the snows in the mountains. The rocky bottoms of the river
are visible from the tops of the coaches and fishes may often be seen
swimming and darting about. Across the river there is a gradual ascent
of ground, until it forms a skyline of miniature mountain peaks. There
are vast mountain meadows clothed in grays and browns, autumn colors
mingled with the colors of the sage. It makes an indescribable color
and the effect of it also is an indescribable one. On our own side of
the river we are riding through endless beds of flowers, the kind of
beds that nature makes in a large and liberal country. Their colors
are blue and purple and red. Of mountain daisies, yellow flowers on
delicate stems, there are millions. The flowers alone would be worth
coming to see, to say nothing of the furzy mountain meadows, like vast
oriental rugs spread out by the hand of a generous God!
The water in the river is green, when it flows over beds of moss and
black and foreboding when it runs under the shadows of the overhanging
rocks. As we proceed on our journey, these projecting rocks become more
numerous. The banks gradually grow more precipitous and the channel,
narrower. The waters grow more disturbed. Signs of some impending
catastrophe to the river multiply. The waters now roll and surge. From
side to side they dash themselves against the rocks, filling the air
with a spray. The river becomes furious and it makes a great commotion.
Finally, in one great dash the waters rush over the upper falls, a
distance of one hundred and ten feet down. Then, imprisoned in a narrow
gorge, seething and foaming and roaring, they rush forward until they
come to the lower falls, where they make a spectacular descent of three
hundred and six feet, filling the air with foam and spray and the scene
with glory, all the way down. The whole thing is God-like, that is the
only phrase that can describe it. God-like in power, in beauty and in
majesty.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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