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T H E A T H A B A S C A R I V E R R E G I O N 123
Towards evening we reached the Crooked Rapid— Kahwa-kak
o Powestik— and here the portage path followed on the
summit of the limestone rampart, which the viscous gumbo-slides
made almost impassable i n rainy weather, and indeed
very dangerous, forming, at the time we passed, pits of
mud and broken masses of half- hard clay, along the very
verge of the wall of rock, l i k e l y at any moment to give way
and precipitate one into the raging torrent below. At other
parts the path was jammed out to the wall- edge, to be stepped
round with a gulp i n the throat. But these and other features
of a like interesting character, though a lively experience
to the tenderfoot, were of no account whatever to those
wonderful trackers. At one of the worst spots I was hesitating
as to how and where I should step next, when a
carrier, returning for his load, seeing my fix, humped his
back with a laugh and gave me a lift over.
We camped for the night below a point where the river
makes a sharp bend, parallel with its course. This we surmounted
i n the morning, following a rounded wall of limestone,
for all the world like a decayed rampart of some
ancient city. A wide floor of rock at its base made beautif
u l walking to a place where the lofty escarpment showed
exposures of limestone underlying an enormous mass of
dark sandstone, topped by tar- clay. It is a portentous cliff,
bearing a curiously Eastern look, as i f some great pyramid
had been riven vertically, and the exposed surface scarred
and scooped by the weather into a multitude of antic hollows,
grotesque projections, and unimaginable shapes. Here,
also, the knives of passers- by had carved numerous autographs,
marring the majestic cliff with their ludicrous
incongruity. Are we not all sinners in this way ? " John
Jones," cut into a fantastic buttress which wotild fittingly
adorn a wizard's temple, may be a poor exhibit of human
vanity; but, after all, the real John Jones is more imperishable
than the rock, which seems scaling, anyway, from the
top, and may, by and by, carry the inscriptions w i t h it. It
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| Title | Page 140 |
| OCR | T H E A T H A B A S C A R I V E R R E G I O N 123 Towards evening we reached the Crooked Rapid— Kahwa-kak o Powestik— and here the portage path followed on the summit of the limestone rampart, which the viscous gumbo-slides made almost impassable i n rainy weather, and indeed very dangerous, forming, at the time we passed, pits of mud and broken masses of half- hard clay, along the very verge of the wall of rock, l i k e l y at any moment to give way and precipitate one into the raging torrent below. At other parts the path was jammed out to the wall- edge, to be stepped round with a gulp i n the throat. But these and other features of a like interesting character, though a lively experience to the tenderfoot, were of no account whatever to those wonderful trackers. At one of the worst spots I was hesitating as to how and where I should step next, when a carrier, returning for his load, seeing my fix, humped his back with a laugh and gave me a lift over. We camped for the night below a point where the river makes a sharp bend, parallel with its course. This we surmounted i n the morning, following a rounded wall of limestone, for all the world like a decayed rampart of some ancient city. A wide floor of rock at its base made beautif u l walking to a place where the lofty escarpment showed exposures of limestone underlying an enormous mass of dark sandstone, topped by tar- clay. It is a portentous cliff, bearing a curiously Eastern look, as i f some great pyramid had been riven vertically, and the exposed surface scarred and scooped by the weather into a multitude of antic hollows, grotesque projections, and unimaginable shapes. Here, also, the knives of passers- by had carved numerous autographs, marring the majestic cliff with their ludicrous incongruity. Are we not all sinners in this way ? " John Jones," cut into a fantastic buttress which wotild fittingly adorn a wizard's temple, may be a poor exhibit of human vanity; but, after all, the real John Jones is more imperishable than the rock, which seems scaling, anyway, from the top, and may, by and by, carry the inscriptions w i t h it. It |
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