United States

  Leave the mission 
  Clover 
  Wild mustard 
  A carreta 
  Family travelling 
  Arrive at Pueblo de San Jose 
  Capt. Fisher 

  Periodical winds 
  Dine on board the Portsmouth 
  A supper party on shore 
  Arrival of Commodore Stockton at San Francisco 
  Rumours of rebellion from the south 
  Californian court 

  Sonoma creek 
  "Bear men." 
  Islands in the bay 
  Liberality of "Uncle Sam" to sailors 
  Sonoma 
  Beautiful country 
  General Vallejo 

  An appeal to the alcalde 
  Kanackas 
  Straits of San Pueblo and Pedro 
  Straits of Carquinez 
  Town of Francisca 
  Feather-beds furnished by nature 

  Return of Colonel Fremont to Monterey 
  Call for volunteers 
  Volunteer our services 
  Leave New Helvetia 
  Swimming the Sacramento 
  First fall of rain 

Naturally we were very impatient to know just what success we had met with in our photographic work. Some of the motion pictures had been printed and returned to us. My brother, who meanwhile had taken his family to Los Angeles, sent very encouraging reports regarding some of the films.

We awoke bright and early the next morning, much refreshed by our day of rest and variety. With an early start we were soon pulling down the river, and noon found us several miles below the camp, having run eleven rapids with no particular difficulty. A reference in my notes reads: "Last one has a thousand rocks, and we could not miss them all. My rowing is improving, and we both got through fairly well." In the afternoon they continued to come - an endless succession of small rapids, with here and there a larger one.

In recording our various mishaps and upsets in these pages, it may seem to the reader as if I have given undue prominence to the part I took in them. If so, it has not been from choice, but because they happened in that way. No doubt a great deal of my trouble was due to carelessness. After I had learned to row my boat fairly well I sometimes took chances that proved to be anything but advisable, depending a good deal on luck, and luck was not always with me.

Camp routine was hurriedly disposed of the next morning, Saturday, September the 23d. Everything was made snug beneath the hatches, except the two guns, which were too long to go under the decks, and had to be carried in the open cockpits. "Camp No. 13, at the head of Lodore," as it is entered in my journal, was soon hidden by a bend in the river.

In the mud at Kanab Canyon we saw an old footprint of some person who had come down to the river through this narrow, gloomy gorge. It was here that Major Powell terminated his second voyage, on account of extreme high water. A picture they made showed their boats floated up in this side canyon. Our stage was much lower than this. F.S. Dellenbaugh, the author of "A Canyon Voyage," was a member of this second expedition. This book had been our guide down to this point; we could not have asked for a better one.