USA > Arizona > History of Arizona, Vol. V > Part 10
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around with the eddy until it stranded upon the head of a small island, he abandoned himself for a brief period to all the misery of despair. But his rugged and energetic nature would not long succumb to such a feeling. Recovering himself, he began to survey as best he might his situation.
"White no longer doubted that he was in the Grand Canyon. He could neither scale the walls nor return. There was nothing left but to proceed down the stream, and in that direc- tion there seemed not the shadow of a chance that he might succeed and live. He only dared to hope that by carefully tying himself to the raft his body might float through with some por- tion of it and be identified by means of a pocket memorandum book which he endeavored to se- cure to his person, so that his fate might become known to his relatives and friends.
"Having considered these things with the desperate calmness of a man who regards him- self as doomed to speedy and inevitable death, he nevertheless omitted nothing which might tend to the preservation of his life. First, he overhauled his raft and tightened its lashings. Next he stripped the mesquite bushes which grew on the bank of their scanty crop, with which he partially appeased his hunger. Then, with a fervent appeal to the great Father of all, he launched his raft and floated away to en- counter unknown dangers and terrors.
"It is hardly necessary to say that White kept no 'log' of his voyage, and it would there- fore be impossible to give from this point the details of his daily progress. Never before did
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mortal man perform such a journey. For nearly 500 miles he floated over a succession of cascades and cataracts varying from 4 to 20 feet, with patches of smooth water between. Frequently on plunging over a fall the raft was overturned, and it was with much difficulty that he saved himself from drowning. Once he was so long under water that he became insensible ; but on that occasion the raft providentially emerged right side up, and when he revived he found himself floating along as if nothing had happened.
"Below each fall there was an island formed by the land thrown up by the eddying waters, affording him an opportunity of hauling up his raft for repairs-a very necessary operation, as the ropes by which it was bound were frequently cut upon the edges of the rocks at the head of the falls-and as a place of rest during the nights. At first the mesquite growing upon the islands supplied him with a scanty allowance of food, but after the sixth day he found the islands barren. A rawhide knife scabbard then afforded him some slight sustenance and a good deal of chewing for a couple of days, after which he was without food until he passed the Rio Virgen. One day he saw some lizards, but was too feeble to catch them. To add to his misery, he was stripped by the rocks and water of his hat, pants, drawers, boots and socks; his head, feet, and legs became blistered and raw by the sun's rays.
"Day by day and hour by hour he grew weaker by exposure to the heat and because of want of food. And all the time the dark walls
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of the canyon towered above him, nowhere less than a thousand feet, and in some places a mile and a half in height, to the best of his judgment. Anxiously he watched for some avenue of es- cape, some crevice or fissure in the adamantine walls which confined him, but there was none. The consoling reflection remained that it was perhaps better to be dashed to pieces or perish of simple starvation in the canyon than to scramble out of it and add the torment of thirst to those which he already endured. So he voy- aged on, now helplessly broiling in the merciless rays of the sun as he floated calmly and yet swiftly along the expanse of the comparatively smooth water, then tumbling over a cascade or rushing through a rapid at the imminent peril of shipwreck upon the rocks which bumped and thumped his frail craft until its light timbers rattled; and now shuddering and with bated breath plunging over a fall, for aught he knew, into eternity. Day by day, and hour by hour, he grew weaker for the want of food, while from sitting in a cramped position and from expos- ure to the sun, his legs were so stiff and sore as to be almost entirely disabled. Still, with dogged resolution he persevered, improving every moment of daylight, and making, as he believed, at a moderate estimate, 40 or 50 miles every day.
"At length, on the evening of September 6, the raft, with our bruised, battered, and starv- ing voyager, more dead than alive, and yet re- taining a great deal of the wonderful vitality which thus far had sustained him, still clinging to it, emerged from the canyon. Again the
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broadening river flowed between low, green banks.
"White felt that the worst of the voyage was over. If he could but hold out for a day or two longer, he would be saved. But though his spirit was undaunted, his physical strength was nearly gone.
"Soon after passing the mouth of a consider- able stream, the Rio Virgen, he heard voices shouting to him. He could hardly convince himself that the sounds were real, and he gazed in wondering surprise toward the bank. A number of Indians leaped into the water, swam out to him, and pushed the raft ashore. He was roughly treated by the Indians, who tore off his coat tails and seized one of his revolvers. One of the Indians who spoke English told him they were Pah-Utes. They seemed to compre- hend the fearful trip White had made and to express some astonishment among themselves that he should have survived it, but his condi- tion excited not the smallest spark of sympathy in their dusky bosoms.
"White asked for food, and the Indians agreed to give him a small dog for the remain- ing pistol. But on securing the weapon, they let the dog escape. He was finally compelled to give them his vest for catching and killing the animal, and even then the Indians appro- priated the fore quarters. White ate a hind quarter of the dog raw and without salt for his supper, and then lay down and slept soundly. In the morning he ate the other hind quarter and resumed his voyage to Callville.
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"It chanced that at this time the barge Colo- rado, of Fort Mojave, in charge of Capt. Wil- burn, with a crew of four or five men, was at Callville, receiving a cargo of lime and salt. Standing on the bank, the captain saw the strange craft passing by on the other side and hailed it.
"'My God! Is this Callville ?' responded White in feeble tones.
" 'Yes,' replied Capt. Wilburn, 'come ashore.'
"'I'll try to,' replied the voyager, 'but I don't know whether I can or not.'
"Fastening his raft about 200 feet below, White, a strange looking object, made his appearance on the crest of a hill near the land- ing.
66 'My God! Capt. Wilburn, that man's a hun- dred years old,' exclaimed one of the crew.
"He looked older, for his long hair and flow- ing beard were white. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks thin and emaciated, his shrunken legs a mass of black and loathsome scabs from his loins to his toes. As he crawled slowly and painfully toward them, the men, with exclama- tions of astonishment and pity, went to meet and assist him. They brought him to their camp, gave him food, washed and anointed his sores, and clothed him. White became deliri- ous, but toward evening his wandering senses returned, and he was able to give an account of himself.
"James Ferry, United States quartermaster at Callville, made the Pah-Utes return White's possessions and took care of him until he re- covered.
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"When I last heard of White he was carry- ing the mail between Callville and Mojave. At the latter place Gen. W. J. Palmer saw and conversed with him, and from his statements was satisfied that the length of the Grand Can- yon is not less than 500 miles, and that its thorough scientific exploration, while not abso- lutely impossible, will present difficulties which will not soon be surmounted."
White is still living, a resident of Trinidad, Colorado, and has furnished a statement at first hand of his adventure, which is here repro- duced. It seems that after remaining a few months on the lower Colorado, and after visit- ing his old home in Wisconsin, Mr. White re- turned to Colorado and ultimately located in Trinidad, where he has lived since 1878, and there, in 1916, he prepared this account of his voyage which, as far as known, is the only printed statement made and signed by him, with the exception of a brief account which appeared in a Wisconsin paper soon after the conclusion of his voyage. Mr. White writes :
"I was born in Rome, N. Y., November 19, 1837, but was reared in Kenosha, Wis. At the age of 23 I left for Denver, Colo., later drifting to California, and there enlisted in the Army at Camp Union, Sacramento, in Company H, Cali- fornia Infantry, Gen. Carleton (some doubt as to the correct spelling of his name) being gen- eral of the regiment, and the company being under Capt. Stratton. I served in the Army three and one-half years, being honorably dis- charged at Franklin, Tex., on May 31, 1865. From there I went to Santa Fe, N. Mex., and
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then to Denver. In the fall of that year I went from Denver to Atchison, Kans., with Capt. Turnley (some doubt as to the correct spelling of his name) and his family, and from Atchi- son I went to Fort Dodge, Kansas, where I drove stage for Barlow & Sanderson, and there I got acquainted with Capt. Baker, also George Strole and Goodfellow. This was in the spring of 1867, and the circumstances under which I met them were as follows: Capt. Baker was a trapper at the time I met him there, and the Indians had stolen his horses, and he asked me to go with him to get his horses, and I went with him, George Strole, and Goodfellow. We could not get his horses, so we took 14 head of horses from the Indians. The Indians followed us all night and all day, and we crossed the river at a place called Cimarron, in Kansas, and we travelled across the prairies to Colorado City, Colo.
"Before going further with my story I would like to relate here what I know of Capt. Baker's history. He had been in the San Juan country in 1860 and was driven out by the Indians. He showed me lumber that he had sawed by hand to make sluice boxes. I was only with him about three months, and he spoke very little of his personal affairs. When we were together in Colorado City he met several of his former friends that he had been prospecting with in the early sixties. I cannot remember their names. The only thing I know is that he mentioned coming from St. Louis, but never spoke of him- self as being a soldier, and I thought 'Captain' was just a nickname for him. He was a man
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that spoke little of his past or personal affairs, but I remember of his keeping a memorandum book of his travels from the time we left Colo- rado City.
"After reaching Colorado City, Colo., Baker proposed a prospecting trip to the San Juan. There we got our outfit, and that spring the four of us started on the trip and went over to the Rio Grande. At the Rio Grande Good- fellow was shot in the foot, and we left him at a farm house, and the three of us proceeded on our trip. From the Rio Grande we went over to the head of it, down on the Animas, up the Eureka Gulch. There we prospected one month. We dug a ditch 150 feet long and 15 feet deep. We did not find anything, so we went down the Animas 5 miles, crossed over into the Mancos. At the head of the Mancos we saw a large lookout house about 100 feet high, which was built out of cobblestones. Farther down the canyon we saw houses built of cobble- stones, and also noticed small houses about 2 feet square that were built up about 50 feet on the side of the canyon and seemed to be houses of some kind of a bird that was wor- shipped. We followed the Mancos down until we struck the San Juan. Then we followed the San Juan down as far as we could and then swam our horses across and started over to the Grand River, but before we got to the Grand River we struck a canyon; so we went down that canyon and camped there three days. We could not get out of the canyon on the opposite side, so we had to go out of the canyon the same way we went down. There we were attacked
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by Indians and Baker was killed. We did not know there were any Indians about until Baker was killed. Baker, falling to the ground, said, 'I am killed.' The Indians were hiding be- hind the rocks overlooking the canyon. Baker expired shortly after the fatal shot, and, much to our grief, we had to leave his remains, as the Indians were close upon us, and George Strole and I had to make our escape as soon as pos- sible, going back down in the canyon. We left our horses in the brush, and we took our over- coats, lariats, guns, ammunition, and 1 quart of flour, and I also had a knife scabbard made out of rawhide, and I also had a knife, and we started afoot down the canyon.
"We travelled all day until about 5 o'clock, when we struck the head of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River. There we picked up some logs and built us a raft. We had 200 feet of rope when we first built the raft, which was about 6 feet wide and 8 feet long, just big enough to hold us up. The logs were securely tied together with the ropes. We got on our raft at night, working it with a pole. We travelled all night, and the next day, at 10 o'clock, we passed the mouth of the San Juan river. We had smooth floating for three days. The third day, about 5 o'clock, we went over a rapid, and George was washed off, but I caught hold of him and got him on the raft again.
"From the time we started the walls of the Canyon were from two to three thousand feet high, as far as I could estimate at the time, and some days we could only see the sun for an hour, possibly two hours. Each day we would mix
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a little of the flour in a cup and drink it. The third day the flour got wet, so we scraped it off the sack and ate it. That was the last of the flour and all we had to eat.
"On the fourth day we rebuilt our raft, find- ing cedar logs along the bank from 12 to 14 feet long and about 8 or 10 inches through. We made it larger than the first one. The second raft was about 8 feet wide and 12 feet long. We started down the river again, and about 8 o'clock in the morning (as to our time, we were going by the sun) we got into a whirlpool and George was washed off. I hollered to him to swim ashore, but he went down and I never saw him again.
"After George was drowned I removed my trousers, tying them to the raft, so I would be able to swim in case I was washed off. I then tied a long rope to my waist, which was fast- ened to the raft, and I kept the rope around my waist until the twelfth day.
"About noon I passed the mouth of the Little Colorado river, where the water came into the canyon as red as could be, and just below that I struck a large whirlpool and I was in the whirlpool about two hours or more before I got out.
"I floated on all that day, going over several rapids, and when night came I tied my raft to the rocks and climbed upon the rocks of the walls of the canyon to rest. I had nothing to eat on the fourth day.
"On the fifth day I started down the river again, going over four or five rapids, and when
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night came I rested on the walls again, and still nothing to eat.
"On the sixth day I started down the river again, and I came to a little island in the middle of the river. There was a bush of mesquite beans on this island, and I got a handful of these beans and ate them. When night came I rested on the walls again.
"The seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth days were uneventful, but still going continuously over rapids, and still nothing to eat. So I cut my knife scabbard into small pieces and swal- lowed them. During the entire trip I saw no fish or game of any kind.
"On the eleventh day I went over the big rapid. I saw it before I came to it, and laid down on my stomach and hung to the raft and let the raft go over the rapid, and after getting about 200 yards below the rapid I stopped and looked at a stream of water about as large as my body that was running through the solid rocks of the canyon about 75 feet above my head, and the clinging moss to the rocks made a beautiful sight. The beauty of it cannot be described.
"On the twelfth day my raft got on some rocks and I could not get it off ; so I waded on to a small island in the middle of the river. On this island there was an immense tree that had been lodged there. The sun was so hot I could not work, so I dug the earth out from under the tree and laid under it until the sun dis- appeared behind the cliffs. This was about noon. After resting there I got up and found five sticks about as big as my leg and took them
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down to the edge of the island below my raft. I then untied the rope from my raft and took the loose rope I had around my waist and tied these sticks together. I slept on this island all night.
"On the thirteenth day I started out again on my newly made raft (leaving the old raft on the rocks), thinking it was daylight; but it was moonlight, and I continued down the river until daylight. While floating in the moonlight I saw a pole sticking up between two large rocks, which I afterwards learned the Government had placed there some years before as the end of its journey.
"When daylight came I heard some one talk- ing, and I hollered 'hello,' and they hollered 'hello' back. I discovered then that they were Indians. Some of them came out to the raft and pulled me ashore. There were a lot on the bank, and I asked them if they were friendly, and they said they were, and I then asked them to give me something to eat, when they gave me a piece of mesquite bread. While I was talking to some of the Indians, the others stole my half-ax and one of my revolvers, which were roped to the raft. They also tore my coat try- ing to take it from me.
"After eating the bread I got on my raft and floated until about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, when I came upon another band of Indians, and I went ashore and went into their camp. Thev did not have anything for me to eat, so I traded my other revolver and vest for a dog. They skinned the dog and gave me the two hind quar- ters and I ate one of them for supper, roasting
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it on the coals. The Indians, being afraid of me, drove me out of their camp, and I rested on the bank of the river that night, and the next morning, the fourteenth day after I got on my raft, I started to eat the other quarter, but I dropped it in the water. I floated that day un- til 3 o'clock and landed at Callville, and a man came out and pulled me ashore.
"Jim Ferry or Perry (not sure as to the first letter of this name) was a mail agent at this place. He was also a correspondent for some newspaper in San Francisco. He took me in and fed me. When I landed all the clothing I had on my body was a coat and a shirt, and my flesh was all lacerated on my legs from my ter- rible experience and of getting on and off the raft and climbing on the rocks. My beard and hair were long and faded from the sun. I was so pale that even the Indians were afraid of me. I was nothing but skin and bones and so weak that I could hardly walk. Jim Ferry (or Perry) cared for me for three days, and the soldiers around there gave me clothing enough to cover my body.
"I was at Callville about four weeks, and a boat was there getting a load of salt, and I got on that boat and went to Fort Mojave. There I met Gen. Palmer and told him my story.
"From Fort Mojave I went to Callville again and there worked for Jim Ferry (or Perry), carrying the mail for three months between Callville and Fort Mojave. Then he sold out to Jim Hinton, and I carried mail for him for a month. He sold out, and we each bought a horse and pack animal and we started from Call-
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ville, going to Salt Lake in the spring of 1868. From Salt Lake City we went to Bear River. There we took a contract of getting out ties. Then I hired out as wagon boss. Then I quit and run a saloon. I sold out and then went to Omaha, Nebr. From there I went to Chicago, and from there to Kenosha, Wis., to visit my old home. That was in 1869. From Kenosha I went to Chicago, and from there to Leaven- worth, Kans., and later to Kansas City, Kans. From there I went to Junction City, Kans., and then to Goose Creek. I drove stage in and out of Goose Creek for Barlow & Sanderson, for whom I had worked in Fort Dodge. I was transferred from Goose Creek to Fort Lyon or Five Mile Point. From there I went to Bent Canyon, Colo., and minor places, later drifting to Trinidad, where I have lived since 1878.
"These are the plain facts. There are many minor points that could be mentioned, but did not think it necessary to mention here. I have never been through that country since my ex- perience, but have had a great desire to go over the same country again, but have never been financially able to take the trip.
"(Signed) JAMES WHITE."
Corroborative evidence of the statement of Mr. White, and other statements, concerning his trip, is also produced by the writer, from which the following is taken:
"Among those who took cognizance of it was Bancroft, the historian of the western coast, who includes the White story in his history of Arizona. Samuel Bowles, the famous editor of
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the Springfield Republican, and Albert D. Rich- ardson, both of them early and frequent visitors to the West, accept the record without question, and both make mention of White's adventure in books written by themselves. It would be worth while to quote from all these notable pub- licists, but an extract from Mr. Richardson must suffice as a sample of the thought and ex- pression of all. He went to the extent of giv- ing the full story of the Grand Canyon exploit in the 1869 edition of his great book, 'Beyond the Mississippi,' regarded everywhere in its day as the last word on all things western. The fol- lowing excerpt affords a fair idea of his esti- mate of White's story :
""'Indians and trappers have always believed that no man could tread the stupendous gorge, hundreds of miles long, with its unknown cata- racts and its frowning rock walls a mile high, and come out alive. But one has done it and lives to tell the tale. * * * What a romance his adventures would make. Let Charles Reade or Victor Hugo take James White for a hero and give us a new novel to hold children from play and old men from the chimney corner.'
"In another connection in the same article Mr. Richardson characterizes White's feat as 'perhaps without parallel in authentic human history.'"
The writer continues:
"The fact having been established by so many witnesses that White actually made his appear- ance below the canyon, the case would be com- plete if it could be shown that he went into the canyon at its head; but obviously such proof is
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impossible, as there were no white men's habi- tations within hundreds of miles on the day that White and Strole pulled out into the stream to escape the savages who had so unceremoniously deprived them of their leader.
"All that can be done to substantiate White's story regarding the entrance upon his perilous enterprise, is to adduce as much testimony as possible indicating the probability of truthful- ness in that connection. Necessarily, in view of the lapse of time and the remoteness of the locality, such proof is scarce. Still it is not en- tirely lacking. We have at least three wit- nesses whose testimony shows that White and Baker, with others, were moving toward the head of the canyon in the spring of 1867, and fortunately one of these still lives. He is no other than Hon. T. J. Ehrhart, the present highly regarded chairman of the Colorado State Highway Commission. The other two are S. B. Kellogg and Mrs. Thomas Pollock, both for- merly of Lake City, Colo., whom we find quoted in the Rocky Mountain News, of Denver, in its issue of November 14, 1877.
"The statement in the News was a contribu- tion from a correspondent, and the reference to White was incidental to an effort to clear up the fate of Baker, who, as the leader of the first expedition into the San Juan region, was a his- torical character in Colorado. Kellogg had aided in fitting out the original Baker expedi- tion when it left California Gulch in 1860, and had become a member of the Baker party while it was operating in San Juan during the fall of that year, while Mrs. Pollock had joined the
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party as the wife of another of its members. When seen by the representative of the Denver paper, both resided in Lake City, and Kellogg held office as a justice of the peace.
"The News correspondent bases his whole article on information supplied by these two former associates of Baker and, after detailing the facts regarding the venture of 1860, says:
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