Near by was a side canyon of the most picturesque type, down which a clear little brook danced from ledge to ledge and from pool to pool, twenty to thirty feet at a time.
We named it Leaping Brook.

The rocks were mossy, and fir trees, pines, cedars, and cottonwoods added the charm of foliage to the brilliant colours of the rocks and the sheen of falling water, here and there lost in the most profound shadows.

Beaman made a number of views while the rest of the men climbed for various purposes.

Steward, Clem, and I by a circuitous route arrived at a point high up on Leaping Brook where the scene was beyond description.

To save trouble on the return we descended the brook as it was easy to slide down places that could not be climbed.
In this manner we succeeded in getting to the last descent near camp, to discover that it was higher than we thought and almost vertical with rough rocks at the bottom.