Early Scouts in Zion Canyon

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Early Scouts in Zion Canyon

By Alfred Lambourne

Well, young scouts, the editor of the Improvement Era has asked me to say a few words to you, through the pages of this magazine. The subject that he wishes me to talk about is my early visit to the now famous Zion Canyon in the southern part of our state. It was the Territory of Utah then, and the remarkable place was not as well known as it is at the present day, and the one who is writing for you was in his young years like yourselves, though, of course, he was not a Boy Scout, for we did not have such a fine organization in those days; and it was "some" task, too, with such roads as we then had to get

into the Zion Canyon. Of course, all you boys know that the Zion Canyon is in a National Park now; but in those days it was a great solitude. My visit was made in company with my friend, C. R. Savage, who was the great landscape photographer then; and, being an artist, my purpose was to make sketches and then make paintings from them, for no one in the country had done so then. I remember that on the last day of our trip entering the Canyon, we were compelled to ford the Rio Virgin nineteen times. The roads were so deep in sand, we were using such a ramshackle vehicle, and the mules that pulled it were so small, I wonder how we ever got into that wilderness of stone without mishap. Really, we were very tired the first night we slept in the Zion Canyon. But perhaps some of the boy scouts have tramped over the road and up into the wonder of our Dixie Land. Well, scouts, Zion Canyon is a wonderful scene to look upon, with its great walls, towers, and domes of stone; sedimentary rock, the geologists call it, because it was laid down by water in the long ago, and was at the bottom of ancient sea* that have now disappeared. Some of those great masses of rock have striking names, but they were unnamed, at least as far as we know, at the time of our visit. About the highest and most massive rock of all is called El Gobernador, which changed from Spanish means "The Governor;" another is called Angel's Landing, then there are the Three Patriarchs and the immense heights. All are of wonderful colors, ranging from white at top— through different ruddy tints to deepest red, and they

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surely appear strange and grand when the southern sun shines full upon them, and the brilliant colors stand up against the dark blue sky. The Zion Canyon occurs in what is known as the Plateaus, masses of high, table-land rock, and there are

Photo through courtesy R. A. Thorley, Cedar City, and Douglas White, Salt Lake Route

SCOUTING IN ZION CANYON These scouts are making their way through the narrows, approaching a defile through which the river passes. When storms occur, scouting in this quarter is extremely dangerous, sinde floods rise very suddenly in the narrow canyon, choking up to a great height, and the waters croivd through the narrow gorge with a great rush.

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deep and narrow fissures in it, such as the Kannara canyons; the upper part of Zion Canyon is only a narrow defile of this kind, and it is quite filled up with the stream that comes through it. My, but that is a wild place! You all ought to see it! In some places the walls of the fissures are beautifully mossed and draped with ferns and bright with flowers. During high water season in the country, the stream roars through that fissure all one mass of foam, in a manner that is truly awful and, one might say, sublime! Now, boy scouts, right here I might let you into a small secret. When the editor asked me to write these two or three paragraphs, he added this: "Boys like simple, straight-forward stuff; so no high brow this time. That's alright for older folks, but you know, boys!" Now, if he had not said that, I should feel like letting off, for your amusement if not edification, a few mental sky-rockets; I mean that it would be nice to say a few high-falutin' things about the wonders of Zion Canyon. But we must humor the editor and "cut it out." I'd have liked to tell you about the forces of nature, among them erosion, and glacial action, and rushing water, and volcanic fires, and how they worked through the ages to bring about the result that you see when standing on the floor of the Mu-Koon-tu-Weap. There now, I "been and used" an Indian word, for that is what the Red men used to call the Zion Canyon. That is a word of which even the best of translators of the Indian tongues have found it difficult to tell the meaning. It seems to refer to some personage or other who once dwelt in this wonderful place. But whether it was some Big Chief, or Renegade Indian, or

Photo by R. D. Adams, Cedar City, Uta'i SCENE IN ZION CANYON

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"Great Spirit" which the Indians worshiped, it were hard to

tell. — Perhaps it meant a burial place for the dead for the Indians buried their dead in caves in the high cliffs. Whatever it meant, the Indians at the time of our first visit, did not care

to go into the Zion Canyon— especially at night; so they either venerated the place too much, or were afraid to go there. During the time that we remained in the Canyon making photos and sketches, we did not see a living creature save ourselves. We heard the cliff-owls hoot, and that was all. It surely was a lonely place then. Zion's Canyon has had some names that were romantic besides the one we have mentioned. Sometimes it was called "Canyon of the Rio Virgin" or "Little Zion;" and had two other Indian names which mean something like this: "Place of Many Waters," and "Heart of the Rock-Rovers Land." Those were romantic names, were they not? But not more wildly romantic than the place itself. Boys, I hope that you will all go there, some day, and see that piece of Utah's wonderland. But we have lots of wonderlands in Utah. I sure would like and maybe I will some day to tell you about some of them, — who knows? In the meantime Success to your "Hikes," and make up your minds to "See Utah First," and, believe me, you will never regret it. There are some pictures of Zion's Canyon in this issue of the Improvement Era. Look, and see if you like them!

A PRAYER Let me do my work each day, and if the darkened hours of despair overcome me, let me not forget the love that comforted me in the desolation of other times; that found me walking beside the murmuring streams, and over the silent hills of my childhood, when I promised my early God to have courage amid the tempests of the changing years. Let me not judge others, lest I condemn myself; teach me that poverty and riches are of the spirit, and though the world know me not, may my thoughts and actions be such as shall keep me friendly with myself. Raise my eyes from the earth, and teach me the uses of the stars. Let me not follow the clamor of the world but walk calmly in my path. Give me a few friends who love me for what I am, and keep ever burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope; and if age and infirmity overtake me, and I come not within sight of the castle of my dreams, teach me still to be thankful for life, and time's olden memories, and may the evening twilight find me gentle still. T. R. Kelly.