The Canyon--Above And Below The Canyon Rim. There are several rather remarkable and surprising points of difference between the Canyon on the rim, and the Canyon in its depths.
Above, the whole Canyon region, save during the rainy season, is waterless, and while not barren, owing to the growths made possible by winters' snows and summers' rains, it is a veritable desert as far as water, whether in streams, creeks, rivulets or springs, is concerned.
Drainage of the Canyon. On both sides of the Canyon, all the surface water of the rains drains away from the Canyon for miles, and not until it has flowed, perhaps from within a few feet of the edge of the abyss itself, from twenty to a hundred miles, does it empty into the drainage channels which, burrowing down into the earth, reconvey the water back, by circuitous routes, into the depths of the Canyon, there to add to the flow of the Colorado.
Rain at El Tovar. Take rain that falls, for instance, at El Tovar itself, within sight of the Canyon. After a heavy storm, the visitor may see it dashing down the Bright Angel Wash (up which the railway runs) to Bass Station, where it turns and enters the narrower section of the Wash. It flows in a general southwesterly direction, and enters the Coconino Wash, which discharges into the open plain, once the bed of the great inland Eocene Sea. Here it disappears.
An Underground Stream. In this plain are some breaks in the rocky bed, which allow the water to flow down to join the underground current of the Havasu (or Cataract) Creek, which runs on the northern slope of Bill Williams Mountain. This underground stream (as explained in the chapter on Havasu Canyon) emerges at the head of the village of the Havasupai Indians, in a thousand springs, and then flows on, over several precipices, to the lower levels, thus making the exquisite waterfalls that have rendered this Canyon world-famous. It finally reaches the Colorado some fifteen miles away, where its clear blue waters are soon lost in the muddy flood of the "Red."Water in the Canyon. After one has ridden in the hot summer sun over this waterless region, and seen the waterwagons of the miners and sheep men, and the great train of water-tanks being hauled for the guests at El Tovar, it is a surprise and a wonder to find below, in the heart of this rocky-walled Canyon, a mighty river dashing its headlong way to the west. Many a time, after a week of riding horseback on the plateau above, until every particle of moisture seemed to have evaporated from my body, have I gone down the trail to the river and camped there, enjoying a swim several times a day, and rowing up and down one of the quiet stretches, between the rapids, where boating is not only possible but reasonably safe. In the Bright Angel and the Shinumo on the north side, and the Havasu on the south side, one may swim, or at least soak and paddle, in cooling waters, where waving willows, giant sycamores, and green cottonwoods sway above the streams, and rich verdure of great variety lines their banks. What a wonderful contrast,--above and below!
Difference between the Rim and the River. Another remarkable difference, or surprise, is found when one leaves the rim above, where the weather is lovely and there is not a sign of rain, and go below to the river, which gives evidence of a great rise. How can the river rise without rain? Yet it seems to, and one almost doubts the evidence of his own senses.
Experience on the River. Engineer Stanton tells of an experience as his party went through the river: "About 2:30 P. M. we heard a deep, loud roar, and saw the breakers ahead in white foam. With a great effort we stopped upon a pile of broken rock that had rolled into the river. When we went ahead to look, much to our surprise, the whole terrible rapid that we had expected to see had disappeared, and there was only a rushing current in its stead. While we stood wondering, there rose right at our feet those same great waves, twelve to fifteen feet in height and from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet long across the river, rolling down stream like great sea waves, and breaking in white foam with terrible noise. We watched and wondered and at last concluded that this was the forefront of a vast body of water rolling down this narrow trough from some great cloud-burst above. (We learned afterwards that there had been such a cloud-burst on the head-waters of the Little Colorado.) Believing that discretion was the better part of valor, we camped right there on that pile of rocks, fearing that, although our boats would ride the waves in safety, we might be caught in one of these rolls just at the head of a rapid, and, unable to stop, be carried over the rapid with the additional force of the rushing breakers."High and Low Water. The piles of driftwood found on the rocks in the Canyon reveal a difference of upwards of two hundred feet between high and low water. This, however, does not refer to the general condition of high water, but to exceptional cases. As, for instance, I myself once saw a mass of rock, the whole face of the cliff, containing doubtless millions of tons, fall into the trough of the stream. The whole course was at once dammed up, and the river rose sixty feet in one hour before the principal mass of rock was made topheavy by the power of the flood. Then it rolled over with the force of the millions of tons of water behind it, and crumbled as it rolled. The mighty wave dashed on, carrying everything before it. In less than another hour the rock mass had disappeared, and the water had resumed its normal level. A rise of fifty to seventy feet is not so very unusual in the heart of the gorge, where it is narrow and the waters would necessarily pile up. To see such a rise, without any evidence of a rain above, is a wonderful experience that one occasionally enjoys.
