HOSPITABLE RANCHMEN

The appearance of Desolation Canyon had changed entirely in the lower
end. Instead of a straight canyon without a break, we were surrounded
by mountain peaks nearly 2500 feet high, with many side canyon between
them and with little level parks at the end of the canyons beside the
river. The tops were pine-covered; cedars clung to the rocky slopes.
Some of these peaks were not unlike the formations of the Grand
Canyon, as seen from the inner plateau, and the red colouring was once
more found in the rocks.

These peaks were gradually dropping down in height; and at one open
section, with alfalfa and hay fields on gently sloping hillsides, we
found a small ranch, the buildings being set back from the river. We
concluded to call and found three men, the rancher and two young
cowboys, at work in a blacksmith shop. Emery had forgotten to remove
his life-preserver, and the men looked at him with some astonishment,
as he was still soaking wet from the splashing waves of the last
rapid.

When I joined him he was explaining that no one had been drowned, and
that we were merely making an excursion down the river. Mr. McPherson,
the rancher, we learned, owned all the cattle seen up the river. The
little cabin at our last camp was a sort of headquarters for his
cowboys. The cattle were just being driven from the mountains before
the snows came, and were to be wintered here in the canyons. Some of
these cattle were much above the usual grade of range cattle, being