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"The Romance of the Colorado River" is a book written by Frederick S. Dellenbaugh, first published in 1902, that details his experiences as a member of John Wesley Powell's second expedition down the Colorado River in 1871.

The book describes the landscape, flora, and fauna of the Colorado River region, as well as the geological formations and the history of the Native American tribes who lived in the area. Dellenbaugh also recounts the challenges and dangers that the expedition faced, such as treacherous rapids, near-death experiences, and encounters with hostile Native American tribes.

Throughout the book, Dellenbaugh emphasizes the beauty and majesty of the Colorado River and its surroundings, and the profound impact that the experience had on him and his fellow travelers. He also includes sketches and illustrations of the landscape and the expedition, which add to the book's vivid and engaging narrative.

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CHAPTER I.

The Secret of the Gulf—Ulloa, 1539, One of the Captains of Cortes, Almost Solves it, but Turns Back without Discovering—Alarçon, 1540, Conquers.

In every country the great, rivers have presented attractive pathways for interior exploration—gateways for settlement. Eventually they have grown to be highroads where the rich cargoes of development, profiting by favouring tides, floated to the outer world. Man, during all his wanderings in the struggle for subsistence, has universally found them his friends and allies. They have yielded to him as a conquering stranger; they have at last become for him foster-parents. Their verdant banks have sheltered and protected him; their skies have smiled upon his crops. With grateful memories, therefore, is clothed for us the sound of such river names as Thames, Danube, Hudson, Mississippi. Through the centuries their kindly waters have borne down ancestral argosies of profit without number, establishing thus the wealth and happiness of the people. Well have rivers been termed the “Arteries of Commerce”; well, also, may they be considered the binding links of civilisation.

In Glen Canyon. In Glen Canyon. Walls of homogeneous sandstone 1000 feet high. Photograph by J. FENNEMORE, U.S. Colorado River Expedition.

Then, by contrast, it is all the more remarkable to meet with one great river which is none of these helpful things, but which, on the contrary, is a veritable dragon, loud in its dangerous lair, defiant, fierce, opposing utility everywhere, refusing absolutely to be bridled by Commerce, perpetuating a wilderness, prohibiting mankind’s encroachments, and in its immediate tide presenting a formidable host of snarling waters whose angry roar, reverberating wildly league after league between giant rock-walls carved through the bowels of the earth, heralds the impossibility of human conquest and smothers hope. From the tiny rivulets of its snowy birth to the ferocious tidal bore where it dies in the sea, it wages a ceaseless battle as sublime as it is terrible and unique. Such is the great Colorado River of the West, rising amidst the fountains of the beautiful Wind River Mountains of Wyoming, where also are brought forth the gentler Columbia and the mighty, far-reaching Missouri. Whirling down ten thousand feet in some two thousand miles, it meets the hot level of the Red Sea, once the Sea of Cortes, now the Gulf of California, in tumult and turmoil. In this long run it is cliff bound nine-tenths of the way, and the whole country drained by it and its tributaries has been wrought by the waters and winds of ages into multitudinous plateaus and canyons. The canyons of its tributaries often rival in grandeur those of the main stream itself, and the tributaries receive other canyons equally magnificent, so that we see here a stupendous system of gorges and tributary gorges, which, even now bewildering, were to the early pioneer practically prohibitory. Water is the master sculptor in this weird, wonderful land, yet one could there die easily of thirst. Notwithstanding the gigantic work accomplished, water, except on the river, is scarce. Often for months the soil of the valleys and plains never feels rain; even dew is unknown. In this arid region much of the vegetation is set with thorns, and some of the animals are made to match the vegetation. A knowledge of this forbidding area, now robbed of some of its old terrors by the facilities in transportation, has been finally gained only by a long series of persistent efforts, attended by dangers, privations, reverses, discouragements, and disasters innumerable. The Amerind, the red man, roamed its wild valleys. Some tribes built stone houses whose ruins are now found overlooking its waters, even in the depths of the Grand Canyon itself, or in the cliffs along the more accessible tributaries, cultivating in the bottoms their crops. Lands were also tilled along the extreme lower reaches, where the great rock-walls fall back and alluvial soils border the stream. Here and there the Amerind also crossed it, when occasion required, on the great intertribal highways which are found in all districts, but it was neither one thing nor another to him.
This name is a substitute for the misnomer “Indian.” Its use avoids confusion.

Looking into the First Granite Gorge, Grand Canyon foot of Bright Angel Trail. Looking into the First Granite Gorge, Grand Canyon foot of Bright Angel Trail. Canyon 300 miles long. River 1000 feet below point of view. Total depth between 5000 and 6000 feet. Photograph by HALL.

So the river rolled on through its solemn canyons in primeval freedom, unvexed by the tampering and meddling of man. The Spaniards, after the picturesque conquest of the luckless Aztecs, were eagerly searching for new fields of profitable battle, and then they dreamed of finding among the mysteries of the alluring northland, stretching so far away into the Unknown, a repetition of towns as populous, as wealthy in pure gold, as those of the valley of Mexico whose despoiled treasures had fired the cupidity of Europe and had crammed the strong boxes of the Spanish king. And there might be towns even richer! Who could say? An Amerind named Tejo, who belonged to Guzman when he was president of New Spain, that is, about 1530, told of journeys he had made with his father, when a boy, to trade in the far north where he saw very large villages like Mexico, especially seven large towns full of silver-workers, forty days’ journey through the wilderness. This welcome story was fuel to the fire. Guzman organised a party and started for these wonderful seven cities, but numerous difficulties prevented the fulfilment of his plans, and caused a halt after traversing but a small portion of the distance. Cortes had now also returned from a visit to Spain, and he and Guzman were at the point of the sword. Then shortly arrived from the north (1536), after incredible wanderings between the Mississippi and the Rio Grande, that man of wonderful endurance, Alvar Nuñez Cabeza de Vaca, with his surviving companions, Dorantes, Maldonado, and Estevan. The latter, a negro, was afterwards very prominent by his connection with the fatal expedition sent out under the Friar Marcos to investigate the north country. The negro, if not the other men, gave a highly colored account of the lands they had traversed, and especially of what they had heard, so that more fuel was added to the fire, and the desire to explore the mysteries burned into execution. Cortes, harassed by his numerous enemies in Mexico and Spain, determined on a new effort to carry out his cherished plan of reaping further glories in the fascinating regions of the north so full of possibilities. There consequently sailed from Acapulco, July 8, 1539, a fleet of three vessels under Francisco de Ulloa. Cortes was prevented by circumstances from going with this expedition. After many difficulties Ulloa at length found himself at the very head of the Sea of Cortes in shallow water.
For a full account of the experiences of Alvar Nuñez, see the translation of Buckingham Smith. Also Bandolier, Contributions to the History of the Southwestern Portions of the United States.

The Inner Gorge of the Grand Canyon at the foot of Toroweap. The Inner Gorge of the Grand Canyon at the foot of Toroweap. Depth from point of view about 3000 feet. Total depth about 4500 feet. Width about 3500 feet from brink to brink. Negative 20x24 by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Geol. Survey.

House Ruins on Cliff of Glen Canyon. House Ruins on Cliff of Glen Canyon. There were habitations also under the heavy top ledge. Photograph by J. FENNEMORE, U.S. Geol. Survey.

“And thus sailing we always found more shallow water, and the sea thick, black, and very muddy, and came at length into five fathom water; and seeing this we determined to pass over to the land which we had seen on the other side, and here likewise we found as little depth or less, whereupon we rode all night in five fathom water, and we perceived the sea to run with so great a rage into the land that it was a thing much to be marveled at; and with the like fury it returned back again with the ebb, during which time we found eleven fathom water, and the flood and ebb continued from five to six hours. The next day the captain and the pilot went up to the ship’s top and saw all the land full of sand in a great round compass and joining itself with the other shore; and it was so low that whereas we were a league from the same we could not discern it, and it seemed there was an inlet of the mouths of certain lakes, whereby the sea went in and out. There were divers opinions amongst us, and some thought that that current entered into these lakes, and also that some great river there might be the cause thereof.”
From Hakluyt’s Voyages. The spelling has been modernised.

This seems to have been the very first visit of Europeans to the mouth of the Colorado, but as Ulloa did not see the river, and only surmised that there might be one there, it cannot be considered in any way a discovery. It has been supposed by some that Friar Juan de la Asumpcion, in 1538, might have reached the Colorado in his deep river which he could not cross, but this river was more likely a branch of the Yaqui, for the friar was told that ten days beyond, to the north, there was another larger river settled by many people, whose houses had three stories, and whose villages were enclosed. This describes the Rio Grande and its southern settlements perfectly, so that, had he been on the Colorado, or even the Gila, the Rio Grande could not have been described as “ten days to the north.” Ulloa took possession formally, according to Spanish custom, and then sailed southward again. Though he had not found the great river, he had determined one important geographical point: that Lower California was not, as had been supposed, an island, but was a peninsula; nevertheless for a full century thereafter it was considered an island. Had Ulloa followed up the rush of the current he would have been the discoverer of the Colorado River, but in spite of his marvelling at the fury of it he did not seem to consider an investigation worth while; or he may have been afraid of wrecking his ships. His inertia left it for a bolder man, who was soon in his wake. But the intrepid soul of Cortes must have been sorely disappointed at the meagre results of this, his last expedition, which had cost him a large sum, and compelled the pawning of his wife’s jewels. The discovery of the mouth of a great river would have bestowed on this voyage a more romantic importance, and would consequently have been somewhat healing to his injured pride, if not to his depleted purse; but his sun was setting. This voyage of Ulloa was its last expiring ray. With an artistic adjustment to the situation that seems remarkable, Ulloa, after turning the end of the peninsula and sailing up the Lower Californian coast, sent home one solitary vessel, and vanished then forever. Financially wrecked, and exasperated to the last degree by the slights and indignities of his enemies and of the Mendoza government, Cortes left for Spain early in 1540 with the hope of retrieving his power by appearing in person before the monarch. As in the case of Columbus, scant satisfaction was his, and the end was that the gallant captain, whose romantic career in the New World seems like a fairy tale, never again saw the scene of his conquests.

Wytfliet-Ptolemy Map of 1597. Wytfliet-Ptolemy Map of 1597. From BANCROFT’S History of Arizona and New Mexico.

Mendoza, the new viceroy of New Spain, a man of fine character but utterly without sympathy for Cortes, and who was instrumental in bringing about his downfall, now determined on an expedition of great magnitude: an expedition that should proceed by both land and water to the wonderful Seven Cities of Cibola, believed to be rich beyond computation. The negro Estevan had lately been sent back to the marvelous northland he so glowingly described, guiding Marcos, the Franciscan monk of Savoyard birth, who was to investigate carefully, as far as possible, the glories recounted and speedily report. They were in the north about the same time (summer of 1539) that Ulloa was sailing up the Sea of Cortes. The negro, who had by arrangement proceeded there some days in advance of Marcos, was killed at the first Pueblo village, and Marcos, afraid of his life, and before he had seen anything of the wonderful cities except a frightened glimpse from a distant hill, beat a precipitate retreat to New Galicia, the province just north of New Spain, and of which Francis Vasquez de Coronado had recently been made governor. Here he astonished Coronado with a description of the vast wealth and beauty of the Seven Cities of Cibola, a description that does credit to his powers of imagination. Coronado lost no time in accompanying Marcos to Mexico, where a conference with Mendoza resulted in the promotion of the monk, and the immediate organisation of the great expedition mentioned. Coronado was made general of the land forces, and Hernando de Alarçon was placed in charge of the ships. Having a land march to make Coronado, started in February, 1540, while Alarçon sailed in May. Coronado proceeded to San Miguel de Culiacan, the last settlement toward the north, near the coast, whence he took a direction slightly east of north.

The Ancient Ruin on the Cliff. The Ancient Ruin on the Cliff. Glen Canyon. Photograph by J. FENNEMORE, U.S. Geol. Survey.

Alarçon, with his ships the San Pedro and the Santa Catalina, laid a course for the haven of Sant Iago. They were caught in a severe storm which so greatly frightened the men on the Santa Catalina, “more afraid than was need,” remarks Alarçon, that they cast overboard nine pieces of ordnance, two anchors, one cable, and “many other things as needful for the enterprise wherein we went as the ship itself.” At Sant Iago he repaired his losses, took on stores and some members of his company, and sailed for Aguaiauall, the seaport of San Miguel de Culiacan, where Coronado was to turn his back on the outposts of civilisation. The general had already gone when Alarçon arrived, but they expected to hold communication with each other, if not actually to meet, farther on; and it seems from this that they must have felt confidence in finding a river by which Alarçon might sail into the interior. As early as 1531 there were vague reports of a large river, the mouth of which was closed by the Amerinds living there by means of a huge cable stretched across from side to side. There may also have been other rumours of a large river besides the surmises of the Ulloa party. At any rate, Alarçon and Coronado fully expected to be in touch much of the time. This expectation appears absurd to us now when we understand the geography, but there was nothing out of the way about the supposition at that time. As it happened, the two divisions never met, nor were they able to communicate even once. So far as rendering Coronado any assistance was concerned, Alarçon might as well have been on the coast of Africa. The farther they proceeded the farther apart they were, but Alarçon kept a constant and faithful lookout for the other party the whole time, never losing an opportunity to inquire its whereabouts.

Western Part United States. Western Part United States. Relief map by E.E. HOWELL.

Gulf of Calfornia at the Mouth of the Colorado. Gulf of Calfornia at the Mouth of the Colorado. Photograph by DELANCY GILL.

Coronado had left a well-provisioned ship, the San Gabriel, at Aguaiauall, for Alarçon to bring along. These supplies were for the use of the army when the two parties should meet in the north from time to time. Alarçon added the vessel to his fleet and proceeded along up the coast, keeping as near the land as the water would permit, and constantly on the lookout for signals from the other party, or for Amerinds who might be able to give information concerning the position of the general. Thus, at last, he came to the very head of the gulf where Ulloa had wondered at the rush of waters and had turned away without investigation. “And when we were come,” he says, “to the flats and shoals from whence the aforesaid fleet returned, it seemed to me, as to the rest, that we had the firm land before us, and that those shoals were so perilous and fearful that it was a thing to be considered whether with our skiffs we could enter in among them: and the pilots and the rest of the company would have had us do as Captain Ulloa did, and have returned back again.” But Alarçon was not of a retreating disposition; the fierce Colorado had now met its first conqueror. It must be remembered, for Ulloa’s sake, that there was not the same incentive for him to risk his ships and the lives of his men in an attempt to examine the shoals and currents of this dangerous place. Alarçon was looking for and expecting to meet Coronado at any time. He knew that Coronado was depending on the supplies carried by the San Gabriel, and it would have been rank cowardice on the part of Alarçon to have backed out at the first difficulty. But he had no intention of retiring from the contest, for he says:

“But because your Lordship commanded me that I should bring you the secret of that gulf, I resolved that although I had known I should have lost the ships, I would not have ceased for anything to have seen the head thereof, and therefore I commanded Nicolas Zamorano, Pilot Major, and Dominico del Castello that each of them should take a boat, and lead in their hands, and run in among those shoals, to see if they could find out a channel whereby the ships might enter in; to whom it seemed that the ships might sail up higher (although with great travail and danger), and in this sort I and he began to follow our way which they had taken, and within a short while after we found ourselves fast on the sands with all our three ships, in such sort that one could not help another, neither could the boats succour us because the current was so great that it was impossible for one of us to come to another. Whereupon we were in such great jeopardy that the deck of the Admiral was oftentimes under water; and if a great surge of the sea had not come and driven our ship right up and gave her leave, as it were, to breathe awhile, we had there been drowned; and likewise the other two ships found themselves in very great hazard, yet because they were lesser and drew less water their danger was not so great as ours. Now it pleased God upon the return of the flood that the ships came on float, and so we went forward. And although the company would have returned back, yet for all this I determined to go forward and to pursue our attempted voyage. And we passed forward with much ado, turning our stems now this way, now that way, to seek and find the channel. And it pleased God that after this sort we came to the very bottom of the bay, where we found a very mighty river, which ran with so great fury of a stream, that we could hardly sail against it.”

Alarçon’s Ships Struggling With the Great Bore of the Colorado—1540. Alarçon’s Ships Struggling With the Great Bore of the Colorado—1540. Drawing by F.S. DELLENBAUGH.

Here, then, began the acquaintance between the European and the river now known as the Colorado of the West. The experience of Alarçon was immediately typical of much that was to follow in the centuries of endeavour to arrive at an intimate knowledge of this savage torrent.

CHAPTER II.

The Unknown River—Alarçon Ascends it Eighty-five Leagues and Names it the Rio de Buena Guia—Melchior Diaz Arrives at its Banks Later and Calls it the Rio del Tizon—Cardenas Discovers the Grand Canyon.

Having triumphed over the fierce tidal bore which renders the mouth of the Colorado dangerous, Alarçon secured a safe anchorage for his vessels and began immediate preparations for following up the river into the distant interior, both to gain a knowledge of it and to seek for information of the position of Coronado. Leaving one of his small boats for the use of those who remained in charge of the ships, he took the other two, and, placing in them some light cannon, prepared them as well as he could for any emergency that might be encountered. His party consisted of twenty soldiers, sailors, and helpers, besides his treasurer, Rodrigo Maldonado, and Gaspar de Castilleia, comptroller. Alarçon possessed the qualities of a successful explorer. He was bold yet cautious, determined but not reckless, with safe judgment and quick adaptability. His first command was that, no matter what happened in case of meeting with natives, all his company were to remain silent and inactive. With this wise provision, which kept the control in his own hands, the party left the ships behind on Thursday, August 26th (1540), apparently the same day as the arrival. The current was so strong that the men were obliged to tow the boats from the bank, rendering progress slow and difficult, but nevertheless they were able, before night and fatigue compelled a halt, to advance about six leagues. Though constantly on the lookout for natives in the wide barren stretches of lowland on each side of the river, none were seen till early next morning, when, soon after starting, a number of huts were discovered near the river bank. The occupants rushed forth in great excitement at the sudden appearance of these singular-looking people in their equally singular boats, and no wonder! Years and the ages had slipped away and never yet had any people but their own kind appeared on their horizon. Opposition was the natural impulse, and they signed for the Spaniards to go back, threatening attack. The effect of this on Alarçon was a command to anchor the boats out of reach in the middle of the river, though the rapidly augmenting numbers of the people on the shore soon inspired the others of the expedition with a desire to beat a retreat towards the ships. Alarçon, however, was not of this mind. The natives were, of course, armed only with the bow-and-arrow and similar primitive weapons, while the Spaniards, though few in number, possessed the advantage of firearms, of which the natives had no comprehension whatever. The interpreter, being a native from down the coast, understood not a word of this language, but the presence among the strangers of one of their own kind somewhat pacified the natives, and Alarçon did all he could by signs to express his peaceful intentions, throwing his arms to the bottom of the boat and putting his foot on them, at the same time ordering the boats to be placed nearer shore. After much manoeuvring they finally brought about some trifling intercourse and then proceeded up the river, the natives following along the shore. Repeatedly they signalled for the Spaniards to land, but Alarçon, fearful of treachery, declined, and spent the night in the middle of the stream. Nor was the appearance of the natives reassuring, for they had their faces hideously painted, some all over and others only half, while still others carried painted masks before them. In their nostrils they wore pendants, and their ears were pierced with holes wherein they hung bones and shells. Their only clothing was a sort of girdle around the waist.
Hakluyt gives “25th,” but it is a misprint, as this Thursday in 1540 was the 26th.

Native Ladies of the Colorado. Native Ladies of the Colorado.

Freaks of Erosion. Freaks of Erosion.

Gradually, intercourse increased, and presents of trinkets seemed to incline all the natives in Alarçon’s favour. At length he discovered that they reverenced the sun, and without compunction he proclaimed that he came from that orb. This deception served him well. Henceforth no service was too great for the natives to perform for these sacred beings. Everything was placed at their disposal. Alarçon’s word was their law. They relieved the men entirely of the wearisome task of towing the boats, striving with each other for the privilege. Without this help it would have been impossible for Alarçon to have proceeded far up the river, and he fully appreciated this, though the chief reward bestowed on the helpers and all the natives was crosses made of sticks and of paper. These, he informed them by signs, were precious, and he distributed them in large numbers. The morning after he proclaimed himself as coming from the sun, many swam out to where the boat was anchored, contending for the privilege of securing the rope with which the boat was towed. “And we gave it to them,” says Alarçon, “with a good will, thanking God for the good provision which He gave us to go up the river.”

One of the Cocopa Giants. One of the Cocopa Giants. Height, 6 feet, 4 inches. The costume in early days was “nothing.” Photograph by DELANCY GILL.

The interpreter frequently addressed the natives as he went forward, and at last, on Tuesday night, a man was discovered who understood him. This man was taken into the boat, and Alarçon, always true his trust, asked him whether he had seen or heard of any people in the country like himself, hoping to secure some clue to Coronado. “He answered me no, saying that he had some time heard of old men that very far from that country, there were other white men, and with beards like us, and that he knew nothing else. I asked him also whether he knew a place called Cibola and a river called Totonteac, and he answered me no.”

Komohoats. Komohoats. A Pay Ute Boy—S.W. Nevada. Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Geol. Sur.

Coronado meanwhile had arrived at Cibola on July 7th (or 10th) and had therefore been among the villages of the Rio Grande del Norte nearly two months. The route to these towns from the lower Colorado, that is, by the great intertribal highway of southern Arizona, followed the Gila River, destined afterwards to be traversed by the wandering trappers, by the weary gold-seeker bound for California, and finally, for a considerable distance, by the steam locomotive. But it was an unknown quantity at the time of Alarçon’s visit, so far as white men were concerned. Farther up, Alarçon met with another man who understood his interpreter, and this man said he had been to Cibola, or Cevola, as Alarçon writes it, and that it was a month’s journey, “by a path that went along that river.” Alarçon must now have been about at the mouth of the Gila, and the river referred to was, of course, the Gila. This man described the towns of Cibola as all who had seen them described them; that is, large towns of three- or four-storey houses, with windows on the sides, and encompassed by walls some seven or eight feet in height. The pueblos of the Rio Grande valley were well known in every direction and for long distances. The Apaches, harassing the villagers on every side, and having themselves a wide range, alone carried the knowledge of them to the four winds. In every tribe, too, there are born travellers who constantly visit distant regions, bringing back detailed descriptions of their adventures and the sights beheld, with which to regale an admiring crowd during the winter evenings. Their descriptions are usually fairly accurate from the standpoint of their own understanding. In this case the native gave a good description of the Cibola towns, and the Tusayan people had meanwhile given Cardenas a description of these very natives on the lower Colorado. A day or two later Alarçon received further information of Cibola, and this informant told about a chief who had four green earthen plates like Alarçon’s, except in color, and also a dog like Alarçon’s, as well as other things, which a black man had brought into the country. This black man was Estevan, who had been killed about a year before. The news of this man and his execution had travelled rapidly, showing frequent intercourse with the pueblos beyond the mountains. Still farther on he met another man who had been at Cibola, and who also told him of a great river in which there were crocodiles. This was the Mississippi, of course, and the crocodiles were alligators. As Alarçon had never seen an alligator he took the description to mean crocodile. A little farther and he heard of the negro Estevan again and the reason why the Cibolans had killed him, which was to prevent the Spaniards, whom he described, from finding their way into the Cibola country. This man also described the bison and a people who lived in painted tents in summer and in winter in houses of wood two or three storeys high. And thus the expedition continued up the river, inquiring as they went on all subjects. On September 6th the old man who had been a particular friend and interpreter was called on shore by the natives, and there was immediately an animated discussion which Alarçon discovered related to himself. Information had come from Cibola that there were there men like these Spaniards who said they were Christians. These had been warlike, and it was proposed to kill all of Alarçon’s party to prevent the others from gaining a knowledge of this country. But the old man declared Alarçon to be the son of the sun and took his part. Finally it was decided to ask him whether he were a Christian or the son of the sun. Alarçon pretended great wonder at men like himself being at Cibola, but they assured him it was true, as two men who had come from there reported that they had beards and guns and swords just the same. Alarçon still insisted that he was the son of the sun. They said the men at Cibola said the same, to which Alarçon replied that it might well be, and if so they need have no fear, for the sons of the sun would be his brothers and would treat them as he had done. This seemed to pacify them. He inquired now how far it was to Cibola, and they answered ten days through an uninhabited country, with no account of the rest of the way because it was inhabited.
The old Spaniards used “v” and “b” interchangeably, so that Cibola and Cevola would be pronounced the same. Other letters were used in the same loose way.

Windows on the sides of the houses, not of the walls, as one writer has put it. The villages of the lower part of New Mexico had these walls of circumvallation, but to the northward such walls appear to have been rare.

Professor McGee and a Group of Cocopas. Professor McGee and a Group of Cocopas. Originally the Cocopas wore no clothing. Photograph by DELANCY GILL.

Alarçon was now more than ever desirous of informing Coronado of his whereabouts, and tried to persuade some of his men to go to Cibola with a message, promising fine rewards. Only one, a negro slave, and he with reluctance, offered to attempt the journey. Alarçon tried to get the old man to give him guides and provisions, but without success, as the old man seemed to desire to induce Alarçon to help them fight their battles with the Cumanas, saying, if he would end this war, he could have their company to Cibola. Alarçon was determined to go, and sent a man back to the ships to inform those there of his purpose, but he changed his mind soon after, concluding to go to the ships himself and return, leaving there his sick, and rearranging his company. The man who had been sent to the ships overland was overtaken and brought back by the natives, but was obliged to remain with them till Alarçon came up again. The descent from here was made in two and a half days, though it had taken fifteen to come up. Arriving at the ships all was found to have gone well except a few minor accidents, and, directing repairs to be made, Alarçon turned about and started up-river once more, first calling the whole company together, telling them what he had learned of Cibola, and that, as Coronado might now have been informed by natives of his presence, he hoped to find means of reaching him. There was much objection to this plan, but he proceeded to carry it out, taking all three boats this time, loaded with “wares of exchange, with corn and other seeds, with hens and cocks of Castile.” This region he called the Province of Campanna de la Cruz, and he left orders for the building of an oratory or chapel to be named the Chapel of Our Lady de la Buena Guia. The river he called the Rio de Buena Guia (good guidance) from the motto on the viceroy Mendoza’s coat of arms. It was Tuesday, the 14th of September, when he started, taking with him Nicolas Zamorano, chief pilot, to record the latitudes. He soon arrived again among the Quicomas, and then among the Coamas, where he found his man who had been left behind on the first trip. This man had been so well treated that he was entirely content to remain till the party should come back down the river. This was the highest point reached on the first visit. Everywhere the people were treasuring the crosses which had been given them, kneeling before them at sunrise. Alarçon kept on up the river till he “entered between certain very high mountains, through which this river passeth with a straight channel, and the boats went up against the stream very hardly for want of men to draw the same.” From this it may be inferred that the Coamas did not strive with each other for the privilege of towing the boats of these children of the sun as those below had done. Now an enchanter from the Cumanas tried to destroy the party by setting magic reeds in the water on both sides, but the spell failed and the explorers went on to the home of the old man who had been so good a friend and guide to them. At this, Alarçon’s farthest point, he caused a very high cross to be erected, on which words were carved to the effect that he had reached the place, so that if Coronado’s men chanced to come that way they might see it. Nothing is said about burying letters, yet Diaz later mentions finding letters buried at the foot of a tree, apparently nearer the sea. Deciding that he could not at this time accomplish his purpose of opening communication with the army, Alarçon concluded to return to the ships, but with the intention of trying once more. The second day after starting down he arrived at the place where the Spaniard had remained. He told him that he had gone “above thirty leagues into the country” beyond. It had taken him, before, two and a half days to reach the river mouth from here, so that it seems he was about four days going down from his farthest point. Roughly estimating his progress at six miles an hour for twelve hours a day, in four days the distance covered would be about 288 miles. He says he went up eighty-five leagues (this would be fifty-five the first time and thirty more the second), which, counting in Mexican leagues of two and three quarter miles each, gives a distance of 233¾ miles, or about one hundred miles above the mouth of the Gila. This stream he does not mention. He may have taken it for a mere bayou, but it appears to be certain that he passed beyond it. He says Ulloa was mistaken by two degrees as to his northernmost point, and that he sailed four degrees beyond him. The meaning of this may be that he went four degrees beyond Ulloa’s false reckoning, or actually two degrees above the shoals where Ulloa turned back. This would take him to the 34th parallel, and would coincide with his eighty-five leagues, and also with the position of the first mountains met with in going up the river, the Chocolate range. Alarçon was not so inexperienced that he would have represented eighty-five leagues on the course of the river as equalling four degrees of latitude. Had he gone to the 36th degree he would have passed through Black Canyon, and this is so extraordinary a feature that he could not have failed to note it specially. When Alarçon arrived at the ships again, he evidently had strong reason for abandoning his intention of returning for another attempt to communicate with Coronado, and he set sail for home. Another document says the torredo was destroying the ships, and this is very probable. He coasted down the gulf, landing frequently, and going long distances into the interior searching for news of Coronado, but he learned nothing beyond what he heard on the river.

The tribes and bands spoken of by Alarçon cannot be identified, but these Quicomas, or Quicamas, were doubtless the same as the Quiquimas mentioned by Kino, 1701, and Garces, 1775. They were probably of Yuman stock. The Cumanas were possibly Mohaves.

The Colorado at the Junction of the Gila. The Colorado at the Junction of the Gila. Looking up stream, Gila right hand lower corner. Colorado about 500 yards wide. Photograph by DELANCY GILL.

While he was striving to find a way of reaching the main body of the expedition, which during this time was complacently robbing the Puebloans on the Rio Grande, two officers of that expedition were marching through the wilderness endeavouring to find him, and a third was travelling toward the Grand Canyon. One of these was Don Rodrigo Maldonado, thus bearing exactly the same name as one of Alarçon’s officers; another was Captain Melchior Diaz, and the third Don Lopez de Cardenas, who distinguished himself on the Rio Grande by particular brutality toward the villagers. Don Rodrigo went in search of the ships down the river to the coast from the valley of Corazones, but obtained no information of them, though he met with giant natives and brought back with him one very tall man as a specimen. The main army of Coronado had not yet gone from this valley of Corazones, where the settlement called San Hieronimo had been established, and the best man in it reached only to the chest of this native giant.

An Arizona Landscape. An Arizona Landscape. There are Navajo Gardens at the bottom of this canyon. Photograph by E.O. BEAMAN.

The army moved on to another valley, where a halt was made to await orders from the general. At length, about the middle of September, Melchior Diaz came back from Cibola, with dispatches, accompanied by Juan Gallegos, who bore a message for the viceroy. In their company also was the miserable Friar Marcos, pursuing his dismal return to New Spain by direction of the general, who considered it unsafe for him to remain with the army now that the glorious bubble of his imagination had been exploded. Melchior Diaz was an excellent officer, and already had an experience in this northern region extending over some four years. It was he, also, who had been sent, the previous November, as far as the place called Chichilticalli, in an attempt to verify the friar’s tale, and had reported that the natives were good for nothing except to make into Christians. The main army, which was in command of Don Tristan de Arellano, in accordance with the orders received from Coronado, now advanced toward Cibola. Maldonado, who had been to the coast, went with it. Diaz retained eighty men, part of whom were to defend the settlement of San Hieronimo, and twenty-five were to accompany him on his expedition in search of Alarçon. He started north and then went west, following native guides for 150 leagues (412½ miles) in all, and at length reached a country inhabited by giant natives who, in order to keep warm in the chill autumn air, carried about with them a firebrand. From this circumstance, Diaz called the large river he found here the Rio del Tizon. This was the Buena Guia of Alarçon. The natives were prodigiously strong, one man being able to lift and carry with ease on his head a heavy log which six of the soldiers could not transport to the camp. Here Diaz heard that boats had come up the river to a point three days’ journey below, and he went there to find out about it, doubtless expecting to get on the track of Alarçon. But the latter had departed from the mouth of the river at least two or three weeks before; one writer says two months. The same writer states that Diaz reached the river thirty leagues above the mouth, and that Alarçon went as far again above. This coincides very well with Alarçon’s estimate of eighty-five leagues, for Diaz did not follow the windings of the stream as Alarçon was forced to do with his boats. At the place down the river, Diaz found a tree bearing an inscription: “Alarçon reached this point; there are letters at the foot of this tree.” Alarçon does not, as before noted, mention burying letters, and these were found at the foot of a tree, so that Diaz evidently failed to reach the cross erected at Alarçon’s highest point.
Relacion del Suceso. Alarçon must have reached his highest point about October 5th or 6th, and the ships on the return about the 10th. Diaz probably arrived at the river about November 1st.

Cocopa Tule Raft. Cocopa Tule Raft. Photograph by DELANCY GILL.

Diaz now proceeded up the river again, looking for a place where he could safely cross to explore the country on the opposite side. After ascending from the spot where he found the letters for five or six days, he concluded they could cross by means of rafts. In the construction of these rafts he invited the help of the natives of the neighbourhood. He was probably up near the Chocolate Mountains and the Cumanas, who were hostile to Alarçon, and whose sorcerer had attempted to destroy him by means of the magic reeds. They had been merely waiting for an opportunity to attack Diaz, and they perceived their chance in this assistance in crossing the river. They readily agreed to help make the rafts, and even to assist in the crossing. But while the work was in progress a soldier who had gone out from the camp was surprised to observe a large number of them stealing off to a mountain on the other side. When he reported this, Diaz caused one of the natives to be secured, without the others being aware of it. He was tortured till he confessed that the plan was to begin the attack when some of the Spaniards were across the river, some in the water, and the others on the near bank. Thus separated they believed they could easily be destroyed. The native, as a reward for this valuable confession, was secretly killed, and that night, with a heavy weight tied to him, was cast into the deep water. But the others evidently suspected the trick, for the next day they showered arrows upon the camp. The Spaniards pursued them and by means of their superior arms soon drove them into the mountains. Diaz was then able to cross without molestation, his faithful Amerind allies of another tribe assisting.
Alarçon had conveyed in his letters the nature of the gulf and coast, so Diaz struck westward to see what he could find in that direction. The country was desolate and forbidding, in places the sand being like hot ashes and the earth trembling. Four days of this satisfied them, and the captain concluded to return to San Hieronimo. The subsequent fate of Diaz is another illustration of how a man may go the world round, escaping many great dangers, and then be annihilated by a simple accident that would seem impossible. A dog belonging to the camp pursued the little flock of sheep that had been driven along to supply the men with meat, and Diaz on his horse dashed toward it, at the same time hurling a spear. The spear stuck up in the ground instead of striking the dog, and the butt penetrated the captain’s abdomen, inflicting, under the conditions, a mortal wound. The men could do nothing for him except to carry him along, which for twenty days they did, fighting hostile natives all the time. Then he died. On the 18th of January they arrived without their leader at the settlement from which they had started some three months before.

Cardenas with twelve men had meanwhile gone from Cibola to a place called Tusayan, or Tucano, situated some twenty or twenty-five leagues north-westerly from Cibola, from whence he was to strike out toward the great river these natives had described to Don Pedro de Tobar, who recently had paid them a visit, and incidentally shot a few of them to invite submission. Cardenas was kindly received by the people of Tusayan, who readily supplied him with guides. Having lived in the country for centuries, they of course knew it and the many trails very well. They knew the highway down the Gila to the Colorado, and they told Cardenas about the tall natives living in the lower part of it, the same whom Alarçon and Diaz had met. In the direction in which Cardenas was to go they said it was twenty days’ journey through an unpopulated country, when people would again be met with. After the party had travelled for twenty days they arrived at a great canyon of the Colorado River, apparently not having met with the people mentioned. If Cardenas started from the Moki towns, as has generally been believed, where would he have arrived by a journey of twenty days, when an able-bodied man can easily walk to the brink of Marble Canyon from there in three or four days? Why did the guides, if they belonged in the Moki towns, conduct Cardenas so far to show him a river which was so near? The solution seems to be that he started from some locality other than the present Moki towns. That is to say, there has been an error, and these Moki towns are not Tusayan. Where Cardenas reached the great canyon the river came from the north-east and turned to the south-south-west. There are but two places where the canyoned river in Arizona conforms to this course, one at Lee’s Ferry, and the other the stretch from Diamond Creek to the Kanab Canyon. The walls being low at Lee’s Ferry, that locality may be excluded, for where Cardenas first looked into the canyon it was so deep that the river appeared like a brook, though the natives declared it to be half a league wide. Three of the most agile men, after the party had followed along the rim for three days hunting for a favourable place, tried to descend to the water, but were unable to go more than one-third of the way. Yet from the place they reached, the stream looked very large, and buttes that from above seemed no higher than a man were found to be taller than the great tower of Seville. There can be no doubt that this was the gorge we now call the Grand Canyon. No other answers the description. Cardenas said the width at the top, that is, the “outer” gorge with its broken edge, was three or four leagues or more in an air line. This is the case at both great bends of the river. The point he reached has usually been put, without definite reason, at about opposite Bright Angel River, say near the letter “L” of the word “Colorado” on the relief map, page 41 op., but here the river comes from the south-east and turns to the north-west, directly the reverse of what Cardenas observed. The actual place then must have been about midway of the stretch referred to, that is, near the letter “A” of the word “Cañon” on the relief map. Where he started from to arrive at this part of the canyon cannot be discussed here for want of space, but the writer believes the place was some three hundred miles south-east, say near Four Peaks on the new Mexican line. Cardenas was, therefore, guided along the southerly edge of the great Colorado Plateau, through the superb Coconino Forest, where he had wood, water, and grass in abundance. The locality he reached was very dry, and they were obliged to go each night a long distance back from the brink to procure water. For this reason, Cardenas gave up trying to follow the canyon, and returned again, by way of Tusayan, to Cibola, passing on the way a waterfall, which possibly was in the Havasupai (Cataract) Canyon. Castañeda, the chief chronicler of the Coronado expedition, says the river Cardenas found was the Tizon, “much nearer its source than where Melchior Diaz crossed it,” thus showing that its identity was well surmised, if not understood, at that time. Nothing, however, was known of its upper course; at least there is no evidence of any such knowledge, though the natives had doubtless given the Spaniards some information regarding it. The special record of the Cardenas expedition was kept by one Pedro de Sotomayor, but it has apparently never been seen in modern times. It is probably in the archives of Spain or Mexico, and its discovery would throw needed light on the location of Tusayan and the course Cardenas followed. The distance of this whole region from a convenient base of supplies, and its repellent character, prevented further operations at this period, and when these explorers traced their disappointed way homeward, the Colorado was not seen again by white men for over half a century; and it was more than two hundred years before European eyes again looked upon the Grand Canyon.

“A las barrancas del rio que puestos a el bado de ellas parecia al otro bordo que auia mas de tres o quatro leguas por el ayre.”—Castañeda, in Winship’s monograph. Fourteenth Ann. Rep. Bureau of Ethnology, p. 429.

For the author’s views on Coronado’s route see the Bulletin of the American Geographical Society, December, 1897. Those views have been confirmed by later study, the only change being the shifting of Cibola from the Florida Mountains north-westerly to the region of the Gila. See map p. 115, Breaking the Wilderness.

It may be noted here with reference to the location of Cibola, Tiguex, Tusayan, etc., that too much heretofore has been assumed. The explanations presented are often very lame and unsatisfactory when critically examined. So many writers are now committed to the errors, on this subject that it will be a hard matter to arrive at the truth.

The Grand Canyon from Bright Angel Hotel. The Grand Canyon from Bright Angel Hotel. 12 miles to opposite rim. Total depth here between 5000 and 6000 feet. Photograph by HALL.

Coronado proceeded eastward to about the western line of Missouri, and, finding colonisation anywhere in the regions visited out of the question, he returned in 1542 to Mexico, with his entire army excepting a couple of padres.