set-screws, but allowing full play in every direction. These rings
were slipped over the oars; then the usual leather collar was nailed
on the oar, making it impossible for the rings to become separated
from the oars. The holes for the set-screws were too shallow, so we
went over the entire lot to deepen them. We foresaw where a break
might occur, and hung another lock of the open type on a cord, beside
each oar, ready for instant use in case of emergency.

The Logan boys, seeing our difficulties in making some of these
changes, came to our relief. "Help yourselves to the blacksmith shop,"
they said heartily. Here was an opportunity. Much time was consumed in
providing a device to hold our extra oars--out of the way on top of
the deck, but available at a moment's notice. Thanks to the Logan boys
and their blacksmith shop, these and many other little details were
corrected once for all; and we launched our boats in confidence on the
morning of September 10.

A few miles below we came to the locally famous Fire Hole Chimneys,
interesting examples of the butte formation, so typical of the West.
There were several of these buttes, about 800 feet high, composed of
stratified rock; in colour quite similar to the rocks at Green River
City, but capped with rock of a peculiar burnt appearance, though not
of volcanic origin. Some of the buttes sloped up from the very edge of
the river; others were separated from the river by low flats, covered
with sage-brush and bunch-grass,--that nutritious food of the range
stock. At the water's edge was the usual fringe of willows,
cottonwoods, and shrubs innumerable,--all mirrored in the limpid
surface of Green River.

At the foot of the cliffs were a number of wild burros, old and