After dinner was served on the evening of our arrival, my brother and his wife took a trip down Uncle Tom's Trail to the base of the Lower Yellowstone Fall. They returned later, excited not a little, to tell of their adventure and what they had seen. I regretted that they did not wait until morning so that I could go with them, but I was so elated with the description of the fall that I was determined to go down the trail, if I had to go alone. The next morning when I saw how hazardous the undertaking would be, there was nothing that could have induced me to descend the rocky steep over which they had traveled. Sister Lillian and I got a good view of the fall from a prominence near the edge of the canyon, and this satisfied me.

Just before the water makes its tremendous leap, it is compressed within a width of about 100 feet, where it seems to slow down to prepare for the shock before it dashes 308 feet over the rocks. Here from the foaming mass of spray, gorgeous rainbows may be seen. The eye is then inclined to follow the little stream that dwindles away between the rocky sides of the great chasm, foaming and dashing as it goes, until it looks like a silver thread in the distance. The rainbow colors at the fall, blending with the various tints and hues reflected from the mineral formations on the sides of the canyon, presented a picture that no artist could paint.

My sister and I took the trail along the edge of the canyon and finally made intersection with the automobile road within a short distance of the camp. On the way back, I felt as if I had lighted down on another sphere where I could stay for only a brief period, and that I must profit by every moment of time that was allotted me. Pausing by the roadside, I asked the question, "What shall it be when these mortal bodies put on immortality, when they shall no longer be subject to the laws of gravitation or others governing material substances? What shall it be to wing one's flight to unseen worlds where there is still a greater comprehension to be had of Him who created the world and threw it from the tips of His fingers into space!"

It took thousands of years for astronomers to learn that the earth is hung upon nothing; that when God created it He made it out of nothing, and set the forces in action that were continually demonstrating His omnipotence before their eyes.

The plan of salvation, of which it is my privilege to be a partaker, was never more precious to me than at this time, and I had a new appreciation of the fact that an infinite price had been paid for man's redemption. I felt renewed inspiration to press the battle against sin and unrighteousness to the gates of heaven or to the depths of hell.

The Calvary route is often rugged. There are many dangerous places, where if the Infinite One did not clasp our hands and hold them tightly, we would plunge to the depths of the chasm and be wrecked and ruined for time and eternity. We have the blessed consolation, however, that He has promised to guide us with His eye, and never to leave or forsake those who put their trust in Him.

There is an atmosphere of sincerity among the people around the hotels and camps of the Yellowstone that is rarely found in summer resorts in other places. Here the voice of God in nature is heard in the smallest whisper, and again in tones of thunder; those who are inclined to be giddy and possessed with a spirit of levity, suddenly find themselves sobering up and beginning to think upon those things that involve the interests of their immortal souls.

Many of the helpers about the camps and hotels of the Park, I was told, were students and teachers who had come to the Yellowstone unprepared financially to make the tour, and had accepted positions as waiters, waitresses, etc., in order to pay their way through, and to be able to return by the time their schools opened. Some of them received only slight compensation, and depended on the good will of the tourists to reimburse them for services.

The familiarity that was seen everywhere between man and beast betokens the fact that an earnest of Isaiah's prophecy of the Millennium is being fulfilled. These native animals are free to go wherever they please, and seem to have little or no fear. In many instances they come close enough to eat out of the hands of the tourists. At the park camps and around the kitchens of the hotels, black, brown, and occasionally grizzly bears could be seen at almost any hour of the day eating out of tins or otherwise in search of food. At our camp, near the kitchen, I found a brown bear with two little cubs. She looked at me with an independent toss of her head as much as to say, "You may be surprised to see me here, but I am enjoying the rights and privileges accorded me under the laws governing the Park; I am taking no undue liberties nor committing any offense." She then took an affectionate look at her cubs and warned me to keep my distance. I assured her that I had no thought of disturbing them, and so there was an understanding between us. I afterward made frequent visits to the brow of the hill where I could get a good view of her and her little ones.

Tourists often make a mistake in trying to feed and pet the bears. Signs are up everywhere warning them of this danger. A short time before our party arrived, some person tried to pet a bear and was bitten in the wrist. It taught him and others a lesson. These animals have not been tamed, and the reason they are not so vicious as in primeval days is because no one is allowed to wound or kill them. When one becomes unmanageable and it is necessary to dispose of it, the government rangers who have charge of the Park remove all traces of blood, and even burn the hide, so as to keep from arousing suspicion on the part of others. Thus we see, in part, what the Millennium will be when nothing shall hurt or destroy, and when "righteousness shall be the girdle of his lions, and faithfulness the girdle of his reins."

"The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them. And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together: and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice' den. THEY SHALL NOT HURT NOR DESTROY IN ALL MY HOLY MOUNTAIN: for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea" (Isa. II:5:9).

We could have spent another day at the Grand Canyon, as we had arranged for a five-day tour, but decided to spend more time at Old Faithful Camp near the Upper Geyser Basin, and therefore planned to leave in the afternoon. In the meantime I packed up my things, made some notes in my diary, and went alone to the Upper Yellowstone Fall.

Here, with no one present but the unseen host, I spent one of the most profitable hours of my life. I was in a position to get a good view of the Fall, where the water was dashing more than a hundred feet over the rocks, preparatory to the final plunge of three hundred feet a half mile below.

For a short time, surrounded by nature, with all of its primitive beauty and grandeur, I seemed to forget my burdens, and had a foretaste of what it will be when the cross is laid down and the crown is won. But to be an overcomer, I knew there must be no shrinking from duty until the last battle is fought.

Time forbade my tarrying longer at this place, and I hurried to the camp where I found my brother and sister looking for me. In a few minutes we had bidden many of our newly-made friends good-by and were hurried off in the yellow touring car via Tower Fall to Mammoth Hot Springs, a distance of about forty miles.

In the car was a new driver, and among the passengers were the four "Friends" who had started with us from Cody, Wyoming. We were glad to have them, and also to have a change of drivers, so that we might forget the unpleasant experience of the day before at Pahaska Tepee Lodge.

Every person in the car seemed to be in good spirits, and ready to enjoy the trip to the fullest extent. From the time we left the camp until we reached Mt. Washburn, a distance of about ten miles, my time was mostly taken up answering the questions of a woman from California who wanted information about our organization, the Pillar of Fire. I was glad to answer her questions and to give her all the enlightenment I could, but I found that it was taxing my physical strength when I should be at my best to profit by the trip. I silently prayed that a change of some kind might be made. We did not take the automobile road to the summit of Mt. Washburn, an altitude of 10,388 feet, but turned to the left through Dunraven Pass, along the side of the mountain, a much shorter road than over the summit.

I had no desire to go to the summit. I had so often been over the highest peaks of the Rockies on all the scenic railroad lines, that I did not care to tax my nerves on such a trip; other passengers felt much the same.

The drive around the side of the mountain was hazardous enough for me; and while others expressed no fear, there were times when I felt I should be compelled to get out of the car and walk. A good-natured pilot seated by the driver, who, no doubt, was sent out by the Park company, was skilful enough to divert my attention from the distance to the base of the mountain at our left until we had passed over the dangerous part of the road. I shall not forget the manner in which he undertook to make me forget that I was nervous.

Tower Fall was our first stop. The dizzy heights had almost unfitted me for what awaited us at this place, but my brother and the pilot assisted me up the steps and I followed others down the trail to the fall, dashing 132 feet over the rocks. The snowy, foaming water has the appearance of white satin ribbon, falling perpendicularly between two towering rocks, whence it gets its name. It lacks the volume of some other falls in the Yellowstone, but its grace and beauty are nowhere surpassed.About four miles from the fall, we turned aside to Camp Roosevelt, where we found a great display of elk horns. I was constantly on the lookout for elk, deer, and other animals, as I was told that they were often seen in herds in that locality, but I saw nothing except a lonely coyote, trotting along utterly indifferent to our presence. It seems that the continual blowing of automobile horns has frightened the more timid creatures back from the highways, and only occasionally do they venture close enough to be seen.