through the middle of this desert country, fertilizing a narrow belt along its course.
In the region drained by this river there is little water. Of the branches which enter it from the north, there is but one stream west of the La Plata which succeeds in reaching the main river. This is the Rio Mancos. All the others, and they are numerous, start from the mountains as large, clear, beautiful streams. They reach the plateau; the water becomes discolored, alkaline, and in a few miles disappears. The dry atmosphere and the parched earth have absorbed it, and a dry cañon alone remains to mock the thirsty traveler. Reaching the edge of one of these cañons, five hundred or perhaps a thousand feet deep, with precipitous sides, one experiences a feeling akin to superstitious fear when, after descending to the bottom, and fully expecting to hear the rushing of a torrent of crystal water, he finds only a stream-bed of hot, glistening sand. The feeling is the same which one has on seeing any other monstrosity. Why this great cañon carved out of solid rock? Where is the agent which has produced such stupendous effects?
Doubtless in the early spring, when the snows in the high mountains and on their lower slopes yield to the power of the sun, these stream-beds are for a short time—a week or two, perhaps—each filled with a rushing torrent; but, like the people who once dwelt near them, the perennial streams, which in time past cut these gorges, have disappeared. Throughout this vast region, with the exception of the streams mentioned, the only water to be had is in springs and in water-holes, where rain-water, protected from the ardent rays of the sun, remains for a time. The sources of supply are precarious, and, without a knowledge of their location, one might travel for days without finding water.
Scattered over the region are the remains of a long-forgotten people—a people which, judging from the few relics left for our study, possessed a far higher degree of civilization than the wild tribes now roaming the country, higher than the Moquis and Pueblos of the present day, yet resembling them in many respects. We find the remains of their homes, their houses of stone, in various places and of various kinds: some, the homes of a happy, contented people, in full security, leading a pastoral life; others, mere houses built for shelter and defense in stormy times, as protection from the invader, for concealment, and for open defense. The general outline of their history is written in characters of stone all over the country.
The northern limit of their settlements seems to have been near north latitude 38°. Farther north than this no evidences of their occupation have been discovered, although exploring parties have examined the country thence to the Grand River. Toward the south and west their dwellings have been found in Utah, throughout Arizona, and in New Mexico as far east as the Rio Grande. But here, on the
