A Canyon Voyage: The Narrative of the Second Powell Expedition Down the Green-Colorado River from Wyoming, and the Explorations on Land, in the Years 1871 and 1872
G.P. Putnam's sons, 1908 - 277 Seiten
Practically a second volume of the author's "Romance of the Colorado river". cf. Pref. The only detailed account of the second descent of the Colorado river under the leadership of J. W. Powell. The narrative of the first Expedition of 1869 was published by the Smithsonian institution in 1875 in a report issued under title: Exploration of the Colorado river of the West and its tributaries.
Was andere dazu sagen - Rezension schreiben
Es wurden keine Rezensionen gefunden.
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Andy appeared arrived bank Beaman became began boats bottom called camp carried clear Clem cliffs climbed close Colorado continued course Creek crossing dark deep descent dinner direction discovered distance early eight fall feet fire five foot formed four gave gone Grand Canyon Green half hard head heavy horses hour hundred feet Indian Jack Jones Kanab land leaving look Major miles morning mountain mouth narrow Navajos never night o'clock oars party passed Photograph prepared Prof pulled rapid reached region remained rest river rocks seemed seen side snow soon spring started Steward stopped stream supplies thing thought thousand till took trail trees turned valley wait walls whole wide
Seite 140 - FLOW gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise ; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. Thou stock-dove whose echo resounds thro...
Seite 97 - Full-faced above the valley stood the moon ; And like a downward smoke, the slender stream Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem. A land of streams ! some, like a downward smoke, Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go ; And some thro' wavering lights and shadows broke, Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below.
Seite 73 - I WILL sing you a song of that beautiful land, The far away home of the soul, Where no storms ever beat on the glittering strand While the years of eternity roll.
Seite 172 - But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. He came not — no, he came not! The night came on alone...
Seite 97 - And some thro' wavering lights and shadows broke, Bo1ling a slumbrous sheet of foam below. They saw the gleaming river seaward flow From the inner land ; far off, three...
Seite 137 - O thou! whatever title suit thee — Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie Wha in yon cavern grim an' sootie, Clos'd under hatches, Spairges about the brunstane cootie, To scaud poor wretches! Hear me, Auld Hangie, for a wee, An...
Seite 58 - The camera in its strong box was a heavy load to carry up the rocks, but it was nothing to the chemical and plate-holder box, which in turn was a featherweight compared to the imitation hand organ which served for a darkroom.
Seite 171 - THE BROOK-SIDE. I WANDERED by the brook-side, I wandered by the mill,— I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still ; There was no burr of grasshopper, No chirp of any bird, But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard.