One subdivision of the Grand Canyon is known as Cataract Canyon, and this section "in its 41 miles, has 75 rapids and cataracts, and 57 of these are crowded into 19 miles, with falls, in places, of 16 to 20 feet" (n. 17.)
All accounts concur in representing the stream as remarkable for the fury and number of its falls. To ascend the Colorado is a sheer impossibility and even to descend the stream is an enterprise rarely indeed attempted or achieved. Only rafts or life-boats, backed by pluck and luck, stand a chance of getting through—in pieces. The mariners all wear life-belts and are just as often in the water as they are out of it. Evidently a River of Ledges is here. Surely the term Chu (or water shooting over Ledges ) applies with peculiar force to the career of this "wildest of rivers"—the Colorado.
THE COLORADO—BOTTOMLESS? Knowing quite well as we do, that our mighty river possesses a very substantial bottom composed of step-like ledges of rock, we learn with surprise that it is said to flow through a section described as bottomless ! Is not such a statement or assertion absurd? But what did the ancient writer mean? What could he have meant?
The translation states that, according to a poem, the Tsang-shan-wu , "in the east there is a stream flowing in a bottomless ravine. It is supposed to be this Canyon"—the "Great Canyon of the Region beyond the Eastern Sea."
The Chinese term rendered "Canyon" is Hoh , which stands also for "a bed of a torrent, a deep gully or wady; a valley" (see Williams dict. p. 453.)
Of course, a Ta (or "Great") Hoh ought to be a Great Canyon, or a remarkable deep gorge or valley containing the bed of a torrent.
We have already been informed that a Chu (or river of ledges and falls) is in the Ta Hoh , or mighty gorge beyond the Eastern Sea. We also perceive that the title Ta Hoh applies properly to the mountain-hemmed course of our Colorado (which connects with Middle Park and runs to the Gulf.)
Somewhere in this immense and peerless Ta Hoh —somewhere among the majestic mountains—somewhere along the bed of the Colorado (either inside or outside of Middle Park,) the investigator should find a section which is bottomless . The ancient account locates it there. Nor are we to look for it in any Philippine Island. We are restricted to the bed or banks of the Colorado which we have identified as the Chu or plunging river that rushes downward to the Gulf. Our leaping stream flows into and out of Grand Lake (within Middle Park.) Now this Lake (or enlargement of the bed of the Grand Colorado) "has a beach, and far out into the body of the water a sandy bottom" and "in the center, covering an area of nearly a mile square the Lake to all appearance is bottomless ."
We are further informed that "explorations of the edges of this great submarine cavern give the most positive evidences that it was once the crater of a great volcano" (note 18).
"The Lake to all appearance is bottomless. The deepest soundings that could ever be made have failed to reach bottom. Hence it is concluded that it has no bottom ."
Turn these two words, "no bottom" into Chinese and we get wu ti ,—the very terms employed in the Chinese account.
No bottom, say the Ancients.
No bottom, say the Moderns.
The old account puts the unfathomable abyss in a Kuh (valley or ravine) and it is within a Valley—the Valley of Middle Park—that we actually find it. Moreover, this bottomless valley is "supposed" (or reported) to belong to the Ta Hoh —a title which would cover both Valley and Canyon. Indeed, Middle Park, with its enormous mountain-walls connects directly with the system of the Grand Canyon. Moreover, the one stream flows through both. And here it may be remarked that the Chu (or River of Ledges and Falls) is not terminated or swallowed up by the Bottomless abyss in Kuh (or Valley of Middle Park.) It flows on through the Ta Hoh and ultimately enlarges into a Gulf (the Gulf of California).
The rocky floor of the Kuh (or Valley of Middle Park) evidently constitutes a support or bottom for an impetuous and important River of Ledges or rapids and yet, at the same time, is reported to be Bottomless. This seems contradictory. But reaching the precise locality referred to in the old account, modern scientists simply echo the declaration of the Ancients,—that this Valley or Kuh , traversed by a leaping, furious Chu , is unfathomable.
Bottomless! say the Ancients.
Bottomless! say the Moderns.
It thus appears that a statement seemingly calculated at first sight to drown the ancient claim in a flood of derision, turns out on examination to be overwhelmingly powerful evidence in support of the validity of the old record.
In no respect or degree is the ancient testimony contradicted or falsified by modern evidence. Take for instance the old assertion that the shan or mountain-range of the Great Canyon, is "beautiful." Nothing seems more natural than to conclude that such a laudatory term is grossly out of place and that the Mountain-range, with its Canyon and furious Chu , is a frightful, gloomy, dangerous, horrible, repulsive, bleak, and ugly mass of shattered and tottering heights. And, indeed, there is much truth in this view of the situation. Nevertheless, modern visitors unite in declaring that Beauty is a marked feature of the rocky heights that possess or direct the Colorado; and this is in agreement with the ancient account.
One traveler says: "The roar of its waters was heard unceasingly, ... but its walls and cliffs, its peaks and crags, its amphitheatres and alcoves, tell a story of beauty and sublimity" (note 19).
Another visitor, who was treated most disrespectfully by our Chu , has eyes only for its "beauty": "The Canyon grows more and more picturesque and beautiful the farther we proceed.... On many of the long stretches where the river can be seen for several miles, the picture is one of charming beauty .... As the clouds rose we were treated to scenes rare and beautiful in the extreme" (n. 20.)
Again: "Cataract and Narrow Canyons are wonderful, Glen Canyon is beautiful , Marble Canyon is mighty; but it is left for the Grand Canyon, where the river has cut its way down through the sandstones, the marbles, and the granites of the Kaibab Mountains, to form those beautiful and awe-inspiring pictures that are seen from the bottom of the black granite gorge, where above us rise great wondrous mountains of bright red sandstone capped with cathedral domes and spires of white, with pinnacles and turrets, and towers, in such intricate forms and flaming colors that words fail to convey any idea of their beauty and sublimity."
The translation informs us that the mighty gorge is the Canyon of Kiang , Shang , or Almighty God.
And a modern visitor declares that "here Omnipotence stands revealed," and that here is "a glorious creation of God." (n. 21.)
So impressed were the ancients with the beauty and grandeur of this region that they peopled it with the souls of illustrious sages, and declared that here was the Canyon of Almighty God. And those who enter it today, come reeling back from its portals,—declaring that no mortal can describe its glories, and that it is the Grand Canyon of Almighty God!
Words fail one in the attempt to describe this glorious creation of God. The impression it leaves upon the mind is overpowering. One feels as though he had been admitted into the presence of the Genii of the plutonic regions, had penetrated to the very heart of the inner world of elemental creations."
We need not wonder that the old account connects a revered ancestor with this glorious and celestial retreat in the Grand Canyon. He is called Shao Hao , and is furthur termed a ju , (or sucking child.)
Shao signifies "little" or "a little," and Hao is formed of the signs for "sun" and "heaven." It is therefore evident that the ju or infant at the Canyon is (or was) a little sun child, or child of the sun.
American rulers called themselves "Children of the Sun," and we should be careful not to confound our Arizona Prince with any Asiatic ruler. [The Hao or Shao Hao of supposed Chinese origin is represented by some different symbols: see Williams' dict. p. 172, columns 1 and 2.]
The little Child of the Sun at the Ta-Hoh or Great Canyon should not be—must not be—confounded with any early Chinese sun-worshiper. We are to look far to the east of China for both the Canyon and the little Child of the Sun referred to in the account before us.
We are informed that the country connected with the Great Canyon was called "Shao Hao's country" (or the land of the Sun-child) on account of the little Prince. He entered (chi ) it, and this furnished the reason (or chih ) for its title—Land of the Sun-child.
The infant (or ju ) is distinctly called a ruler (or ti .) Moreover, although he was little (shao ) or but a ju (suckling); he was a supreme king (or chwen suh ). (Note 22.)
Chwen is formed by putting together the two words "only" and "head." And suh is a Chinese term composed of the two significant words "only" and "king" (see Williams' dict. pp. 117, 825, 1043.)
Evidently the baby ruler (or ju ti ) was regarded by his people, in this region remarkable for its mountains, as the only or supreme head—the chwen suh , as Chinese historians might forcibly phrase it—of the people ruled.
[Because the infant was king and even the supreme king, it seems reasonable to suppose that his father was dead (and his mother alive) at the time when he was carried into the Great Canyon and duly suckled there.] We need not just here attempt to unravel his history. Enough to show that our Grand Canyon is positively and clearly referred to in Chinese literature. We may, however, note the fact that the royal infant (see translation) belonged to the Kin Tien or Golden Heaven family, and this title must be considered when the history of our Arizona Prince comes to be investigated. It should further be remarked that the respected translator has erred slightly in his supposition that the Chwen Suh (or Supreme Head) was "Shao Hao's descendant ." The Chinese terms in the original are: shao hao (not hao's ) ju (baby) ti (ruler) chwen suh (head king.) It was the little sun child ruler and supreme king who was at the Canyon.
Particular attention should be paid to the fact, that, although regarded as a supreme ruler, the Prince is represented as being but a suckling (or ju ) when in the neighborhood of the Great Canyon.
Now, the translation states that this baby or supreme lord "of whom no further description is given, left there his lute and lyre. It says that his lute and lyre are in this canyon."
MUSIC IN THE GRAND CANYON? It is absurd to imagine for a moment that a sucking infant could own, or could be really supposed to own, a lute . The Chinese text does not say that the musical instrument is "his." And yet, curiously enough, it does declare that the baby-prince left or abandoned (k'i ) a Lute or Lyre in the Canyon.
Why should such a matter be mentioned? Supposing that a fiddle was left behind, or a drum, or a rattle, why should the trivial fact be gravely recorded?
If a Lute was left in the mighty chasm, its remains might be there still. But how could an infant be said to leave or abandon a Lute? Would he not try, so well as our memory serves, to first get it into his mouth? Would not his chubby hands, quite stout enough for destructive arts, tear the strings apart and feed the music to the nearest cat? Would it be a lute at all when ultimately relinquished? And if the babe derived pleasure from ill-treated and squalling strings, why should he leave the lute behind? As well say that the suckling abandoned there a fishing-rod! Would not a milk-bottle be a much readier fount of ecstacy than either a lute or a flute? Why, neither one nor the other could be heard within the Canyon.
A Chinese commentator, however, relieves us from the necessity of seeking for a literal lute between the resounding jaws of the mighty chasm (note 23.) He says it is erroneous (ngo ) to suppose that the baby emperor (ju ti ) grasped (ping ,) or left behind (chi ) or abandoned in the place of midnight darkness (huen ) any lutes or lyres (kin seh .) In hyperbolical language (wu wu )—which is never true when taken literally—a clear limpid river (shuh ) would be the lute (kin .)
But how could a clear stream serve as a lute?
The running water might produce limpid notes. Thus Moore, in his ode on "Harmony," uses the following words:
"Listen!—when the night-wind dieslike a harp it sighs!chord in every wave that flows."
Here is a current of water likened to the string of a harp, and the playing of winds compared to music.
Mrs. Sigourney calls Niagara a "Trump," and we accept the assertion (although literally it is quite untrue.)
But if the Chinese account placed a Trump in the Ontario chasm there would be considerable difficulty in finding it.
Fortunately, in the case immediately before us, it is a Chinese author who tells us that we are to seek for limpid streams rather than for literal lutes or lyres.
The mention of the latter would probably imply that the sounds of some stream or streams in the Great Canyon are of a remarkably soft and musical character.
Streams may produce delightful tones. Thus one observer (at Yellowstone) tells of the "mysterious music of the distant falls" "like the tremulous vibration of a mighty but remote harp-string." (note 24)
If falling water under certain peculiar acoustic circumstances can produce notes like those struck off from harp-strings, the tones can also be compared to those of lutes or lyres (for all are stringed instruments.)
The very volume which places lutes and lyres in the Great Canyon, also tells of a forest elsewhere, which is a "Forest of Lutes and Lyres" (note 25.)
Of course sounds merely resembling those of the stringed instruments, are here referred to. A forest is composed of trees rather than musical instruments, but it may produce musical tones like those of Lutes and Lyres.
And similarly the notes arising from the Grand Canyon may be of a lute-like character. This is the teaching of the Ancients. We have found the Bottomless stream and it is certain that visitors should return with accounts of melody arising from the Canyon. Future explorers should listen for musical notes. They will certainly not be disappointed.
One visitor says: "The waters waltz their way through the Canyon, making their own rippling, rushing, roaring music." We further read of innumerable cascades adding their wild music to the roar of the river."
What are these innumerable cascades but the strings of the Lute which was heard ages ago by enraptured ears and which has kept on resounding ever since. The concert in the Canyon drowns even the basic roar of the river. The music is there.
"We sit on some overhanging rocks, and enjoy the scene for a time, listening to the music of falling waters away up the canyons." (n. 26.)
It appears that the acoustic properties of the Grand Canyon are calculated to produce most notable effects: "Great hollow domes are seen in the eastern side of the rock.... Our words are repeated with startling clearness, but in a soft mellow tone, that transforms them into magical music."
Elsewhere an immense grotto "was doubtless made for an academy of music by its storm born architect; so we name it Music Temple." (n. 27.)
Lutes and Lyres are there, say the Ancients.
A Temple of Music is there, say the Moderns.
It will be noticed that the Chinese annotater calls the Great Canyon—the Ta Hoh —a place of (huen ) midnight darkness and declares that it is erroneous to suppose that the Lute played down there (where it could not possibly be heard) was an instrument held by a human hand (the hand of a suckling!). Now, although the great gorge is wonderfully beautiful, it must be conceded that its basic part (within which human beings might dwell) is decidedly dark. Here "it is necessary to 'lie down upon one's back in order to see the sky,'—as I once heard General Crook express it. Into much of this deep gorge no ray of sunshine ever falls, and it well deserves the name of the 'Dark Canyon.'" (n. 28). Often in midday, stars are seen shining overhead; and it may well be called a place of midnight darkness (huen .)
In the following passage a modern visitor notices the "dark and frowning" walls of the chasm, but still enlarges on their beauty:—"One would think that after traveling through six hundred miles of those canyons, one would be satisfied with beauty and grandeur, but in this fact lies the charm. Of the six hundred miles no two miles are alike. The picture is ever changing from grandeur to beauty, from beauty to sublimity, from the dark and frowning greatness of its granite walls, to the dazzling colors of its upper cliffs. And I stood in the last few miles of the Grand Canyon spellbound in wonder and admiration, as firmly as I was fixed in the first few miles in surprise and astonishment." (note 29.)
Nature has done her best to adorn the walls of the mighty gorge. We are told of "thousands of rivulets " that "dropped farther and farther down, till the whole of the bright scarlet walls seemed hung with a tapestry of silver threads, the border fringed with white fleecy clouds which hung to the tops of the walls, and through which the points of the upper cliffs shone as scarlet tassels."
Nor was Dame Nature completely satisfied with her tapestry and fringe of tassels. Other embroidery was displayed. "As the sun broke through some side gorge, the canyon was spanned from side to side, as the clouds shifted their position, with rainbow after rainbow, vying to outdo in brilliancy of color the walls of the canyon themselves."
The ancient account declares, that in "the Region beyond the Eastern Sea," a Bottomless river traverses a Great Canyon. And this stream, remarkable for its ledges (chu ) or rapids and falls, rushes onward and downward, and grows or enlarges into a Gulf. And the Canyon, the River, and the Gulf are all reported to be Kan —or Beautiful .
And visitors today return from all three, declaring that they are Beautiful! Beautiful!! Beautiful!!!
And some are entranced by strains of music arising from the mouth of the Canyon and declare that it holds an "orchestra." In one place the thousands of streamlets, glistening and gleaming like silvery cords, stretch downward from the edge of the painted chasm; and the resounding, melodious precipice is called "the Cliff of the Harp." (note 30.) What is this but an echo of the ancient declaration that the royal Lute in the Canyon was merely a musical stream. Similar ideas have occurred to poets. Coleridge in his "Ancient Mariner," tells of
"A noise like of a hidden brook
And Moore has heard the notes of harp-strings sounding forth from melodious streams. What wonder, then, that ancient poets (and the translation states that the particular work which makes mention of the "Bottomless Kuh " or valley, is a "poem") should have likened a collection of falling streams or cascades to the chords of a tuneful Lute and then, to distinguish it from others less excellent, have applied to the stringed instrument the name of their Prince. Americans today gravely talk of visiting or seeing "St. Luke's Head" (in California!) And we possess a mere natural formation which is supposed to resemble a nose and is religiously called "St. Anthony's Nose." In truth this "nose" is no more a literal nose than the "Lute" in the Canyon is a literal stringed instrument made by men. Then we have "Cleopatra's Bath" and "Pompey's Pillar." (Next tell us in the interest of chaos and confusion that Pompey left here "his" Pillar.)
In the grand caves at Pikes Peak there is an "organ," which is really no organ at all. It is a natural formation or production from which charming melodies are fetched by skilled musicians. Now if we ourselves can gravely call a musical, highly-strung rock an "Organ," may not the Ancients be excused for calling a combination of musical streams a Lute? Contemplating the "Cliff of the Harp," we can readily understand how old-time visitors found down there the tuneful string of a "Lute" and how an imperial Child of the Sun was unable to lug along "his" notable musical toy. There it remains and melodious notes still come floating up.
Lutes and Lyres are there, say the Ancients.
"An Academy of Music!" say the Moderns.
The Chinese annotater remarks that the lieh tsze (a class of sages or teachers—the literati) are unacquainted (pu chi ) with the sheu-hai or Gulf situated toward the east (chi tung .)
The Chinese scholars of the writer's time knew little or nothing of our Gulf of California (or Sheu-hai ). However, it was known to some; and we are now informed that it is ki (a few ; nearly about, approximately) yih (to guess , to bet; 100,000; an indeterminate number) wan (10,000) le .
A single wan le should measure about 3,000 miles, and a few (to "guess") separate China from the Ta-Hoh which connects with the Bottomless kuh or valley ("Ta-Hoh shih wei wu ti chi kuh .)
Evidently the Great Canyon lies more than one wan le (3,000 miles) to the east of China. We find indeed that the number may well be referred to as "a few" (ki .)
Nor can the Gulf be more than about 30,000 le to the east, seeing that this Gulf of California is in "the region beyond the Eastern Sea" along with the Fu-Tree which has a trunk of 300 le . The Gulf to the east is connected with the mountain system whose Branches exhibit the gorgeous spectacle of Ten Suns. In short, the Gulf and Canyon are along with Fu-Sang ; and Fu-Sang is only 30,000 le to the east of China, and merely 10,000 wide. Accordingly, the Gulf is but "a few" wan le to the east of the Flowery Kingdom.
To look for the Canyon and Tree within the Philippine Islands, contiguous to China, is simply impossible. The islands have been pretty well thrashed over lately, and no one has met with the Tree! It has a "Trunk of 300 le," and collectors of curios or strange plants should keep wide awake and see that they don't pass it in the dark. And yet with its Ten Moons, how miss it? How fail to notice our glittering, gleaming, glorious candelabrum? It couldn't have fallen or drifted over to the Panama ditch? It can't possibly be now stuck in any South American Flower-pot? Catching the Tree seems to be as slippery as catching Tartars, and perhaps when the first is found, the others won't be very far off.
The Chinese commentator, of course, never saw either the Gulf or Canyon but he quotes from earlier writers who were well acquainted with our "region beyond the Eastern Sea;" and one of these named Chwangtsze , is quoted to the effect that in the Ta Hoh or Great Canyon high winds (yuen fung ) occur (yu ) or come unexpectedly upon one.
Do storms arise suddenly in the neighborhood of the mighty chasm?
One modern explorer says: "I go up to explore the alcove. While away a whirlwind comes scattering the camp fire among the dead willows and cedar spray and soon there is a conflagration, the men rushing for the boats, leaving all they cannot readily seize at the moment, and even then they have their clothing burned and hair singed." (note 31.)
Storms occur in all parts of the world. Is there anything peculiar about the tempests which are said to suddenly arise in the Great Canyon?
One visitor says: "Storms were not infrequent and these occurring where the canyon walls were a mile high and close together produced an effect that was almost supernatural in its awfulness. The deep thunder echoed sharply between the cliffs, producing a roaring sound that was almost deafening." (note 32.)
It should be remembered that the vast caverns here multiply the bellowings of thunder and also help to confine and intensify the raging and imprisoned whirlwinds.
One eye or ear witness tells of a storm both seen and heard within the Canyon and adds: "I have seen the lightning play and heard the thunder roll among the summit peaks of the Rocky Mountains, as I have stood on some rocky point far above the clouds, but nowhere has the awful grandeur equalled that night in the lonesome depths of what was to us death's canyon.... Again all was shut in by darkness thicker than that of Egypt. The stillness was only broken by the roar of the river as it rushed along beneath me. Suddenly as if the mighty cliffs were rolling down against each other, there was peal after peal of thunder striking against the marble cliffs below, and mingling with their echoes, bounding from cliff to cliff. Thunder with echo, echo with thunder, crossed and recrossed from wall to wall of the canyon," etc. (note 33.)
Surely sudden and dreadful storms rage here. The loudest in North America, says an expert.
Observe that the visitor just quoted notices the "roar of the river" in connection with the fury of the tempest.
Now, the ancient visitor does the same. After directing attention to the sudden high winds, he says that a decidedly curious sight or spectacle (king shun ) is the keang (a large main stream which receives tributaries) spreading abroad (fu ) the noise of flowing water (tsung ) in the Ta-Hoh or Great Canyon.
The noise of the great river or Keang is thus noticed by the ancient visitor, who also declares that the Ta-Hoh or Great Canyon constitutes a decidedly fine or curious sight.
And such in truth it actually is. "Imagine a chasm that at times is less than a quarter of a mile wide and more than a mile deep, the bed of which is a tossing, roaring , madly impetuous flood.... What an imposing spectacle; what a sublime vision of mightiness!" (n. 34).
A great sight! say the Ancients.
A Wonder of the World! say the Moderns.
The roar of the river has never ceased since the ancient scribe, or his informant, passed that way. A modern visitor says: "The threatening roar of the water is loud and constant."
Again, "The roar of its waters was heard unceasingly from the hour we entered it until the time we landed here. No quiet in all that time." (n. 35).
One navigator tells of a "bore" in connection with the resounding stream. "In the stillness of the night, the roaring of the huge mass could be heard reverberating among the windings of the river.... This singular phenomenon of the 'bore,' as it is called, is met with but at few places in the world.... In the course of four or five hours the river falls about thirty feet" (n. 36.)
Another explorer pauses at one spot in his amphibious career to note that "high water mark" can be seen "fifty, sixty, or a hundred feet above its present stage;" and "when a storm bursts over the canyon, a side gulch is dangerous, for a sudden flood may come and the inpouring waters will raise the river, so as to hide the rocks before your eyes" (n. 37).
Another navigator, who never was without a life-belt,—which he found of vital use when righting his too often overturned ark,—tells with amazement of "the waves, torrents, and cataracts of this wildest of rivers."
A ceaseless basic roar is there,—deadened at times by floods of music, yet nevertheless eternally there.
The sea connected with the Great Canyon is elsewhere called a Puh hai (the latter term signifying "sea.")
A Puh hai is said to be a "Gulf," and we find a Gulf—the Gulf of California—at the mouth of the Colorado.
It should, however, be observed that the term Puh by itself stands for "an arm of the sea." A Puh hai is a Gulf which forms "an arm of the sea." The Gulf or sea should be shaped like an arm —an arm of the ocean (see Williams' dict. p. 718.)
Now, a glance at the map shows that in a very peculiar sense the Gulf of California is a hai or "sea" which meets the requirements of being shaped like an arm . It is a sea and a gulf and at the same time "an arm" of the ocean. Truly it is a Puh hai .
A great many "gulfs" are quite unlike "arms," being too broad to admit of such a comparison. But our Gulf of California is comparatively narrow and is truly an "arm" of the sea. And notice how the water of the river—our Colorado—"accumulates and so forms a gulf." Such are the words of the existing translation and they apply completely to the American situation. Here we find the water of the Colorado accumulating or widening out until it becomes a great body of water—a Gulf. Indeed this development or process of expansion is so gradual that it is impossible for navigators to tell where the river ends or the gulf begins.
In the Chinese comment immediately before us, however, the hai or sea to the Canyon's river mouth is called a Sheu .
Now this term signifies "to rinse the mouth, to scour; to wash out a thing; to purify." (Williams, p. 757.)
The word Sheu is written by combining the characters for "water" and "to suck in."
It is evident that our Gulf of California is "an arm of the sea" and no less a Sheu . A "mouth" it undoubtedly has, and this mouth is being ceaselessly "washed," "scoured," and "purified." Even a dentist would be satisfied! The immense stream rushes out, and tides from the Pacific rush in. Moreover the Colorado "sucks in" the tidal wave known as the Bore. Surely we have here the Eastern Gulf sea which is both a Puh and a Sheu .
The water of the noisy, restless, purifying stream within the Ta-Hoh was it is said,—
1. Yu (which means "used or employed.")
2. Wuh (to water or irrigate; to soften with water; to enrich.)
3. Tsiao (scorched, burned, singed, dried up.)
4. Chi (referring to or denoting.)
5. Tsze (here or this.)
Evidently the water of the Colorado was used to irrigate some ground or vegetation which was dried up or scorched .
Such a remark implies a high temperature (during the period of growth) between the walls of the chasm, and also leads us to look for some soil—some scorched or dried up soil (sadly in need of irrigation)—between the jaws of the Canyon. Is there parched or desert soil on the banks of the Colorado?
Here is the answer: "The region through which the chafing waters of the Colorado run is forbidding in the extreme, a vast Sahara of waste and inutility; a desert too dreary for either vegetable or animal life; a land that is haunted with wind-storm , on which ride the furies of desolation.... The earth is parched to sterility .... It is like the moon, a parched district, save for the single stream which, instead of supplying sustenance, is eating its vitals." (note 38.)
Another traveler visited Fort Yuma, on the Colorado, and says: "The ride to the fort was through a flat and desolate looking country.... It was a dreary eight hours ride." Other remarks are made concerning "the barrenness of the surrounding region and" "the intense heat of its summer climate." (note 39.)
In some spots, however, water produces magical effects. In the Mojave valley, for instance, "the annual overflow of the river enables the Mojaves, to raise with little labor, an abundant supply of provisions for the year.... During one season, a few years since, the Colorado did not overflow its banks; there were consequently no crops and great numbers of the Mojaves perished from starvation." (note 40.)
Curiously enough, although rain fell furiously within the Canyon, it was observed by a traveler that "such rain-storms were invariably confined to the immediate vicinity of the Canyon, the territory lying two or three miles east or west continuing parched with hardly a cloud above it." And the explorer wonders how some ancient inhabitants, whose buildings are now in ruins, "managed to exist, situated as they were in a desolate country, where there was great scarcity of both vegetable and animal life."
The ancient Chinese account connects a baby king, a supreme ruler, with the Great Canyon and now states that water was used within the gorge to irrigate the soil, which is represented as being dried up or scorched. Is the Canyon remarkable for its heat? Surely it ought to be cool down there?
One visitor says: "That Canyon was the sultriest place I have ever struck, and my experience includes some of the hottest sections this side of the equator.
The oppressive heat in the chasm was felt at a "point fifty times as deep as the great chasm at Niagara." (note 41.)
"But despite the terrible heat, despite the discomfort of the situation, I was compelled to wonder and admire, For,"—
The Ta-Hoh should constitute a magnificent sight, but it is also said to contain some scorched or dried up soil. Is such to be seen?
An explorer reached the Colorado at a point where it is 266 yards wide, and adds that the "soil" "bore nothing but dry weeds and bushes and the whole scene presented the most perfect picture of desolation I have ever beheld, as if some sirocco had passed over the land, withering and scorching everything ." (note 42.)
Withered and scorched! say the Ancients.
Withered and scorched! say the Moderns.
In one favored spot, "to the limit of vision, the tortuous course of the river (the Colorado) could be traced through a belt of alluvial land varying from one to six miles in width, and garnished with inviting meadows, with broad groves of willow and mezquite and promising fields of grain." The visitor remarks that the valley appears most attractive in the spring—"at this season of the year before the burning heat has withered the freshness and beauty of the early vegetation." (note 43.)
We are informed that the valley south of the Bend of the Colorado near the "Needles," there is in the spring a "most brilliant array" of flowers; but, "after the ephemeral influence of the few spring showers has passed, the annual plants are soon burned up by the sun's heat and perfect sterility prevails throughout the remainder of the season." (note 44.)
It is sufficiently apparent that the soil when properly watered can produce abundant vegetation and sufficient nourishment for, of course, limited numbers of human beings. Deprived of water, the soil is unable to sustain desirable plants, and presents a sterile aspect. Surveying its present condition or appearance of barrenness, a modern visitor wonders how the ancient inhabitants contrived to exist, or find food, within the withered, unfruitful chasm. But one of the ancients, Mr. Chwang Tsze, writing about this very Ta-Hoh or Great Chasm, says that they used water to irrigate the otherwise scorched or dried up soil. Then, if such a somewhat belated answer is true, the question arises, where are the proofs?
A chief of the Ethnological Bureau very properly furnishes the answer. Standing in the abyss of the Ta-Hoh , on the bank of the roaring river, he beholds some ancient buildings and perceives how their vanished occupants formerly contrived to subsist. He says: "We can see where the ancient people who lived here—a race more highly civilized than the present—had made a garden , and used a great spring" [or feeder of the Colorado], "that comes out of the rocks for irrigation ," etc. (n. 45.)
We irrigated the soil, say the Ancients.
They irrigated the soil, say the Moderns.
Next comes the statement of some trusted early sage or scholar who was certainly acquainted with our Ta-Hoh (containing the ruin and irrigated soil just noticed.) It is an observer or scribe named Tu-tsan , who says:—
10. Seay (to paint, to draw, to sketch.)
11. yih (to spread abroad, to diffuse.)
12. tung (a gorge, ravine, canyon, a cave, a grotto.)
13. hueh ("a hole in the earth or side of a hill,—they are used for dwellings;" a den, a grotto, a cavern.)
Something called seay is here said to be spread abroad, or diffused over rocky walls or caves. Williams (p. 796) says that seay (or sie as it is also spelled) stands for a sketch or design, and adds that it means to draw, to compose, to write. Morrison, in his dictionary, says that seay signifies "to paint," etc.
Of course there is no use looking for anything so absurd as pictured or painted rocky walls or caves; and we accordingly feel disappointed when the ancient text seems to notice such. The pictures or paint should be "spread abroad" freely or lavishly in the vicinity of caverns, and we know positively that no "paint" or pigment of human composition can be seen on the canyon walls. No artificial pictures are there, and we are compelled to admit that the ancient account here stands falsified.
We have, however, found the caves. Music Temple, for instance measures two hundred feet from floor to roof, and is "a vast chamber carved out of the rock." There are caverns in all directions. And the noisy, roaring river is certainly there as well. One explorer says: "Imagine a chasm that at times is less than a quarter of a mile wide and more than a mile deep, the bed of which is a tossing, roaring, madly impetuous flood, winding its way in a sinuous course along walls that are painted with all the pigments known to nature. What an imposing spectacle!" (n. 46.)
Of course we must object that the "walls" are really not walls and that the "paint" so lavishly spread upon them is not paint at all. The ancient assertion is delusive, but equally so is the modern. Just compare them.
The Virgin River enters the Colorado, and at the place of junction are the "resplendently painted temples and towers of the Virgin. Here the slopes, the serpentine ledges, and the bosses of projecting rock, interlarded with scanty soil, display all the colors of the rainbow, and in the distance may be likened to the painter's pallete . The bolder tints are of maroon, purple, chocolate, magenta, and lavendar, with broad bands of white laid in horizontal belts. (n. 47.)
Is this so-called "paint" lavishly "spread abroad"?
Certainly; one section of the mighty and wondrous gorge is known as "the painted canyon."
Of course the chasm is not really "painted" by artists or human agents, and we need not look for painted cliffs anywhere. Nevertheless modern observers echo the language of the ancients, and we are told today of "the painting of the rocks" and of "deep, painted alcoves" and "painted grottos" (n. 48.)
The term yih (see Williams' dict. pp. 781, 1092) is composed of the characters for "fluid" and "vessel," and signifies "A vessel full to the brim; ready to overflow, to run over; abundant; to spread abroad, to diffuse." As seay , the word which precedes yih in our Chinese note, signifies "to paint," we perceive how the additional term yih teaches that the paint made use of has been applied to extensive surfaces, so that it presents the appearance of having "overflowed" or "run over" the rocky walls and caverns dealt with.
Of course neither writing nor literal pictures could overflow or drench—and adhere to—walls or cliffs. But seay yih might cover the motion of applying paint in a most lavish, copious, overflowing manner. Here are cliffs so "rich with parti-coloring as to justify the most extravagant language in describing them."
It looks as though the gnomes on the job, in the Canyon, just emptied their paint-pots down dizzy cliffs and then went back for more. And such extravagance is in harmony with the symbols which stand for painting and vessels and spreading abroad or overflowing! Mineral paints were freely used and sometimes apparently with considerable care and skill. Thus we read of a red sandstone cliff "unbroken by cracks or crevices or ledges" exhibiting "extensive flat surfaces beautifully stained by iron, till one could imagine all manner of tapestry effects."
Here are painted imitations of tapestry.
It should further be remembered that there are actual picture writings spread abroad on extensive painted or stained surfaces. The author just quoted beheld ancient dwellings which "exhibited considerable skill on the part of the builders, the corners being plumb and square." And just here "there were also numerous picture writings." (note 49.)
An amazed visitor exclaims: "Grand, glorious, sublime, are the Pictorial cliffs of vermillion hue!"
"Pictorial" answers to seay (the 10th character in our list.)
Pictured and painted! say the Ancients.
Pictured and painted! say the Moderns.
We have seen that our Gulf (of California) has been called a Puh-hai , or "arm of the sea."
Professor Hoith, the celebrated student of Chinese, in his work on "Chinese History" (p. 49, footnote) says that a puh hai is "an estuary."
Webster says that an "estuary" is "an arm of the sea; a firth; a narrow passage, or the mouth of a river or lake, where the tide meets the current, or flows and ebbs."
Plainly our Gulf of California is a Puh hai or Estuary.
It may further be remarked that Puh is written in Chinese by putting together two characters, one standing for "water," and the other signifying "Suddenly; hastily; flurried, disconcerted, as when caught doing wrong; to change color, confused" (Williams' dict. p. 718.)
It is superfluous to say that our Gulf or Estuary is a very "confused" or "flurried" body of water. It is truly a Puh-hai .
Moreover, it "changes color." As though "caught doing wrong," it changes color and blushes at times a rosy red. This is the hue of multidunious veins: "A thousand streams rolling down the cliffs on every side, carry with them red sand; and these all unite in the canyon below, in one great stream of red mud" (n. 50.) But sometimes the color below Yuma is yellow or black (n. 51.)
The name "Colorado" is a Spanish term conveying the idea of redness, and undoubtedly this hue predominates throughout the course of the boisterous stream; but other colors due to the dye or wash of variously painted cliffs, are also met with. Moreover a section may exhibit one color to-day and something different to-morrow. And so it is with the gulf, which receives the Colorado, and on which floating patches of color are frequently seen. Truly our Gulf or Estuary is remarkable for both its coloring, blue, red, etc., and its changes of color. In all respects it is plainly a Puh-hai .
Our Gulf or Estuary is also called a yuen . Farther on (see Chinese version) we read that the Canyon river produces or grows into (shang ) a beautiful (kan ) yuen .
This term yuen stands for a "gulf, an abyss; an eddy, a whirlpool or place where the back water seems to stop."
A whirling, violent, or impetuous body of water is evidently referred to. Fernando Alarchon, in 1540, found the Colorado "a very mighty river, which ran with so great a fury of stream that we could hardly sail against it.
One voyager tells how his ark, the "Emma" was "caught in a whirlpool , and set spinning about." Here is a yuen .
Again, "The men in the boats above see our trouble but they are caught in whirlpools, and are spinning about in eddies."
What have we here but Yuen —multiplied whirlpools?
Through "Whirlpool Canyon" and all the way to the Gulf, the waters dance around and about. We read of "dancing eddies or whirlpools." There are more than 600 rapids and falls in the Colorado (n. 52.)
The waters waltz their way and even furnish their own "rippling, rushing, roaring music." And we are in addition told of "innumerable cascades adding their wild music" (n. 53).
Surely the entire inlet traversed by the bore or reached by ocean tides is in precisely the condition of commotion which may well be designated by the term yuen.
We are informed that the kan (or beautiful) yuen approaches (tsih ) with vapor (hi hwo ) and bathes (yuh ) the sun's place (ji chi su ).
It is evident that the mighty stream which traverses the Great Canyon in the region beyond the Eastern Sea, should flow from a Bottomless valley to a Gulf, and reach to the Sun's Place. And we find that the current of the Colorado extends to the Tropical line of Cancer, which crosses and marks the mouth of the Gulf of California.
Vapor or fog is noticed in connection with the beautiful (even if restless or reeling) Yuen .
Are fogs a noticeable feature along the coast of California? If so, they might hide the entrance or mouth of the Gulf.
One visitor says: "Westward toward the setting sun and the sea," was a "filmy fog creeping landward, swallowing one by one the distant hills."
Again, we read of "hilltops that thrust their heads through the slowly vanishing vapor."
Here "you may bask in the sunshine of gardens of almost tropic luxuriance or shudder in fogs that shroud the coast " (n. 54.)
We need not wonder that such vapors should appear within the confines of the charming Gulf of California and at times veil its shores. A recent visitor says: "The island and mountain peaks, whose outlines are seen from the Gulf, had been somewhat dimmed by a light haze , appeared surprisingly near and distinct in the limpid medium through which they were now viewed. The whole panorama became invested with new attractions, and it would be hard to say whether the dazzling radiance of the day or the sparkling clearness of the night was the more beautiful and brilliant" (n. 55).
Hazy and Beautiful, say the Ancients.
Hazy and Beautiful, say the Moderns.
The haze is not dense enough to blind our eyes to the manifest fact that those people of old who were acquainted with the position of our Gulf of California, must also have been acquainted with Mexico and its inhabitants.
Tropical America was considered by its people to be particularly under the influence of the Sun. Uxmal was in "the Land of the Sun" (n. 56), and the Mexicans called themselves "Children of the Sun."
CAVE DWELLINGS IN THE GRAND CANYON. It will be noticed that the 13th term in our list is hueh , which stands for cave habitation. Are such to be seen in our Canyon?
Numerous tung (see 12th term,) in the shape of caves or holes are undoubtedly there, but in addition the old account notices hueh . Have such been found?
One explorer says: "Even more remarkable than the stupendous walls which confine the Colorado river, are the ruined cave habitations which are to be seen along the lofty and inaccessible ledges, in which a vanished race long years ago evidently sought refuge from their enemies.... They were reached by very narrow, precipitous, and devious paths, and being extremely difficult to attain by the occupants themselves, presented an impregnable front to invaders" (n. 57.)
Explorers decending into the ta-hoh come forth to-day with accounts of gardens and irrigating streams, pictured cliffs, and cave dwellings,—in complete agreement with the ancient record.
Following the term hueh we find a 14th, called han , which stands for dry, heated air; too dry; parched as by drought; crisp.
Is there han , or dry heated air down in the Canyon?
One visitor entered the Grand Canyon "in the morning while darkness yet covered the scene, but even then it was oppressively hot, and as the sun got higher I felt as though I had been thrust into a dutch oven and the mouth stopped up.... But, despite the terrible heat ... I was compelled to wonder and admire ... the gorgeous cliffs and rock walls showing all those varied colorings," etc. (n. 58).
It was the "terrible heat" which compelled the Ancients to resort to irrigation in order to raise some food for themselves and little ones. Destitute of water, the soil is scorched and barren.
It is said that "there are about 700 square miles of arable land between the mouth of the Gila and the 35th parallel of N. latitude," along the Colorado. And "in the valley" of this stream, where it is joined by the Gila, "are traces of ancient irrigating canals, which show that it has once been cultivated." And along the connected Gila are irrigating works of remarkable construction and undoubted antiquity—antedating the arrival of the Spaniards by centuries.
Where the soil is actually irrigated or cultivated the response of nature is most gratifying and encouraging. We learn with regard to the Colorado valley, that "portions are cultivated by the numerous tribes of Indians who live along its banks, affording them an abundance of wheat, maize, beans, melons, squashes," etc. (n. 59).
Such ground would be well worthy of attention; but the attitude of "the numerous tribes of Indians" along the Colorado might interfere with the plans of newcomers and even compel the latter to live in caves or on ledges easily defended. And it is certain that soil insufficiently watered presents a distressingly sterile aspect in the neighborhood of the Colorado.
One traveler, already quoted, says with regard to a wide section, that "the whole scene presented the most perfect picture of desolation I have ever beheld, as if some Sirocco had passed over the land, withering and scorching everything to crispness" (n. 60.)
Notice this word "crispness" used by our author. Turned into Chinese it becomes han (crisp)—the very term applied in the ancient record to the condition of the soil unwatered within the Canyon. It is curious how the old and new visitors agree in their descriptions of the interior of the mighty gorge, where vegetation is withered or dead.
Scorched and Crisp! say the Ancients.
Scorched and Crisp! say the Moderns.
The Canyon should be hot, and one of our own visitors says: "The sun shone directly up the Canyon, and the glare reflected from the walls made the heat intolerable (n. 61.)
The word han has, unfortunately enough, a perfect right to appear in the old record. Following it we find additional terms:
15. A compound character consisting of the signs for "Sun" (Jih ) and "People" (Min .)
16. lung ("used for nagas or snake gods;" "a dragon," "imperial." "It is often used for a man.")
17. chuh ("the illumination of torches; a candle; a light; to give or shed light upon, to illumine")
The statement seems to teach that the Sun People—the men—were using torches to illumine the depth of the hot Canyon.
We have already been informed that a ju or suckling, who was yet a supreme King (like perhaps the last Chinese Emperor of the Manchu dynasty, in 1912 A. D.) and a Child of the Sun, was down in the abyss, so we are prepared to hear that his subjects—some Sun people—were down there too.
Of course, for the greater part of the twenty-four hours, the darkness, particularly in the cave dwellings should be most intense. One visitor, quoted already, tells of "darkness thicker than that of Egypt." Such gloom should be particularly and painfully felt by "Sun People," and we are not surprised to find that they made use of torches or artificial lights. Singularly enough, the chasm, as though remorsefully conscious of the blackness of its character, produces no end of dried-up vegetable stems or stalks fit to be ignited and used as firebrands. These it places convenient to your hand, as though to invite inspection.
Indians today are in the habit of using such torches. We are informed that "the custom still prevails among them of carrying a firebrand," which was noticed by Spanish explorers in the 16th Century, "and induced those discoverers to give to the river the name of Rio del Tizon" (n. 62).
It will be noticed that the ancient Chinese account connects lights, or "an illumination of Torches" (chuh ), with the very stream which the Spaniards of a later age, and of their own accord christened the Rio del Tizon.
A Torch-lighted stream, say the Chinese.
A Torch-lighted stream, say the Spaniards.
The author or explorer last quoted says with reference to Indians dwelling on the banks of the Colorado, that "the custom still prevails among them of carrying a firebrand in the hand in cold weather," which was noticed by the Spaniards.
Of course the flaming brands may well be used in winter to warm those who hold them, but the Ancients who inhabited the cave or cliff houses (which they built and which are now more or less in ruin, according to exposure or original inherent strength) might have used the chuh or torches as lights . These torches are mentioned in connection with excessive heat , and it would be absurd to suppose that the Sun People of old desired a still higher temperature. But mention is made of cave dwellings, and such are actually there; and we can readily understand why the ancient dwellers in the cave houses should have frequently used the ready-to-hand torches when climbing to their dark and break-neck abodes.
Even today the chuh or torches are used as lights . The withered stalks or stems, so abundant in the Canyon, are a melancholy illustration of the scorching power of the sun within the chasm. We have not forgotten the fact that the Chinese term han is used in the ancient text and that it stands for the "crispness" of scorched or dried up plants. An actual visit to the Ta-Hoh or Great Canyon referred to, shows that it is this han —or withered, scorched and crisp—vegetation which provides no end of torches (chuh ) for dwellers in the vicinity. One stumbling visitor uses the following language: "We struck for it ... through the thick night, the guide occasionally lighting a torch of grass " (n. 63). Unable to directly or steadily illumine the angles or recesses of the Canyon, the bright and clear-headed sun does the next best thing and raises a bounteous harvest of firebrands. Nature here concentrates her attention on the task of serving the necks (rather than the bellies) of her children, and presents them with a crop of seasoned and brilliant torches. Certain it is that most efficient firebrands are raised here in profusion and constitute such a unique feature of the stream that in order to distinguish it from others in the region, the Spaniards called our river the Rio del Tizon. Torches have lighted the Canyon in the past and they now throw light on the ancient record.
Mentioned in connection with withered vegetation and intense heat, the natural inference is that the torches were used to light the steps of dwellers in the Canyon. Of course they might in winter have been used, like other vegetable produce, as fuel, but the old record now before us does actually connect the chuh or torches with a high scorching temperature; and our impression or deduction is that they were used as lights amid the blackness of the chasm.
And the Torches (chuh ) are used as lights still. One explorer says: "We fear that we shall have to stay here clinging to the rocks until daylight. Our little Indian gathers a few dry stems, ties them in a bundle, lights one end, and holds it up. The others do the same , and with these Torches we find a way out of trouble."
Observe that these torches (or chuh as the Chinese would call them) were not ignited to warm the explorers. They were held aloft to find or light the way among perilous cliffs. Without their aid it would have been madness for the explorers to move. Practically they were as men born blind, but the Indian guide, with knowledge derived from the depths of antiquity, obtains the necessary torches and light at his elbow. With one withered and hot stem he ties together a number, lights them and then finds the way out of trouble for both himself and his bewildered party. What have we here but a duplication of the "illumination of torches" referred to in the ancient record?
17. chuh (the illumination of torches; a candle; a torch.)
18. yuen ("to lead or take by the hand, to cling to; to pull up higher, to drag out; to put forward; to relieve, to rescue")
19. yiu (have, has; to get.)
20. Ta (Great.)
21. Hoh (Canyon.)
22. hao (a mark, classed, a signal.)
23. wei (said or declared; has; in the place of.)
24. wu (no; without; destitute of.)
25. te (bottom.)
It appears that within the bottomless Ta-hoh or Great Canyon (see words 19 to 25) there is an illumination of torches (chuh ) and a pulling up higher, or a dragging about and clinging to (yuen ).
Climbing is here referred to. The Sun people seem to have found locomotion difficult and hazardous within the chasm.
The modern explorer who reached the irrigated garden plots and houses of the ancient occupants, was himself compelled to resort to much climbing. In one place he says: "I find I can get up no farther, and cannot step back, for I dare not let go with my hands, and cannot reach foot-hold below without. I call to Bradley for help.... The moment is critical. Standing on my toes my muscles begin to tremble.... I hug close to the rock, let go with my hand, seize the dangling legs, and with his assistance, I am enabled to gain the top" (n. 64.)
It will be seen by the intelligent reader that the forgoing performance is covered by the term yuen (No. 18) used in the ancient record. There was a rescue by Bradley, and the desperate adventurer, a chief of the Ethnological Bureau, was "pulled up higher," even to "the top" of the cliff. All this constitutes yuen ; and without intending it, our modern climber—calling to Bradley for help—is a most eloquent and lucid commentator on the ancient statement in the Chinese text.
But this climbing should be accomplished in connection with chuh (No. 17—the illumination of torches). Is it true that there is climbing by torchlight (not moonlight , gentle reader) within the chasm?
Light is thrown on the ancient text by a statement already in part quoted: "We fear that we shall have to stay here clinging to the rocks until daylight. Our little Indian gathers a few dry stems, ties them in a bundle, lights one end, and holds it up. The others do the same, and with these torches we find a way out of trouble. Helping each other, holding torches for each other, one clinging to another's hand until we get footing, then supporting the other on his shoulders, so we make our passage into the depths of the canyon. And now Captain Bishop has kindled a huge fire of driftwood, on the bank of the river. This and the fires in the gulch opposite, and our own flaming torches , light up little patches, that make more manifest the awful darkness below. Still, on we go, for an hour or two, and at last we see Captain Bishop coming up the gulch, with a huge torch-light on his shoulders. He looks like a fiend waving brands and lighting the fires of hell, and the men in the opposite gulch are imps lighting delusive fires in inaccessible crevices, over yawning chasms.... At last we meet Captain Bishop with his flaming torch" (n. 65). And so the brilliant description continues.
What is all this but the chuh yuen of the ancient record? Here surely is "an illumination of torches."
Torches and Climbing, say the Ancients.
Torches and Climbing, say the Moderns.
We can readily understand why the ancient occupants of the stone houses in the Grand Canyon, should have used the torches so liberally and conveniently supplied by nature throughout the region where their light is too often sadly or desperately needed. We have been informed by a modern visitor that ruined cave habitations are to be seen along "lofty and inaccessible ledges." And these dwellings "were reached by very narrow, precipitous, and devious paths, and being extremely difficult to attain by the occupants themselves, presented an impregnable front to invaders."
Surely here torches would often come in handy.
