The distance from Grand Canyon Camp to Mammoth Hot Springs, near Fort Yellowstone, was made in about three and one-half hours, with only the one stop at Tower Fall, and the few minutes that we halted at Camp Roosevelt, and the Cold Spring. But there was not one moment of monotony. The harmonious blending of colors, the distant mountain peaks and ranges, the soft-tinted sky, the trees, the water, in fact, all of Nature's best, in a milder form than we had seen about the Grand Canyon at the Upper and Lower Yellowstone Falls, was constantly presented in shifting scenes before our vision, relieving, in a measure, the tension we had been under since arriving in the vicinity of the Grand Canyon.

One place, in particular, that attracted my attention, was a beaver dam and hut that had been constructed by an order of masons whose operations are conducted exclusively upon the principles of home protection, and whose chief aim is to protect the fur trade of which they are the producers. In order to do this and to keep from being stranded, it is often necessary for the beavers to dam up the waters and build a house in which to live.

When they cut down trees, they have the faculty of felling them where they want to build, so as to save as much labor as possible. At our left was a creek and a dam they had built and a house they had constructed, independent of the laws controlling the builders' association or that of the labor unions.

Their tools are very simple, as they use their teeth for saws, their tails for trowels, etc. In the midst of the dam was the hut, built of unplaned logs, with a well-constructed roof.

Under less favorable circumstances than is found for animal life in the Park, these little workers with their soft, silken fur would have been hunted down and captured before they could have brought the work to completion. Again, I could not help but exclaim, What a blessing are the laws governing the Yellowstone Park!

The rangers, with stations interspersed throughout the vast area of more than 3,000 square miles, are employed by the government for the protection of life and property, and arrests are quickly made and penalties fixed when there is any violation of the law. These men are not soldiers, but patrolmen on horseback, dressed in cowboy's uniform. An ordinary soldier would be unfitted for such work. Men in leather shaps are needed who can break and ride bronchos, throw the lariat, and round up the herds; those who are used to the mountain fastnesses and the buffalo path, the haunts of black, brown, and grizzly bears, and are acquainted with the habits of the elk, moose, mountain sheep, the antelope, the deer, etc.; those who know the habits and lurking places of the unscrupulous hunters and poachers who defy the laws and by any or all means seek to evade punishment. No one is better fitted than the western ranger to track them down and see that they are brought to justice.

When we arrived at the Mammoth Springs, we found a welcome at the camp and soon felt very much at home. It was cool enough for a fire, and many of the tourists gathered around the stove in the office and chatted with one another until the evening meal, which proved to be a plentiful repast and well served.

Our tents were furnished after the same pattern as those of the Grand Canyon Camp, with the exception that these were lighted with electricity.

The Mammoth Hot Springs and the beautiful terraces, in attempting description of which all language has been exhausted, were only a short distance from the camp; without waiting for a guide, we were soon winding our way up the side of the hill and around the road where we could find an entrance to the plateau. I had seen pictures of the many springs and terraces in colors, and had supposed they were overdrawn, but I found myself in the same bewildered state as when I first saw the Grand Canyon. Before I was aware, my tears were flowing freely at the thought of how impossible it would be to describe these springs to my friends and others who, perhaps, would never have the opportunity of seeing them. The blending of colors cannot be reproduced by the brush of the most gifted artist. I was thankful that God had permitted me to see the work of His hands that I might help others in the battle for eternal life.

Some of our party were looking for the Devil's Kitchen, but in the absence of a guide were having difficulty in finding it; I had no inclination to participate in the search. I had been in the ante-chamber of heaven and at the gates of perdition, and this was sufficient for one day, so I started back toward the camp, with a lady who seemed to be satisfied to stay by my side, even though she missed seeing many of the places of interest.

I knew she was tired, and hoped that she might ride the remainder of the way. Soon an automobile came along and took her in. By this time my brother and sister and other members of the party had given up the search for the Devil's Kitchen and overtaken us. Later I was told that it is in the crater of an extinct boiling spring, not far from some of the terraces.

After reaching the camp, I was about to retire, when I decided to go to the office and see what was going on. A number of persons were preparing a program for an entertainment, and asked me to make an address, but I felt that enough had been crowded into one day, and declined.

Before morning, the weather became very chilly, and I had to use both the heavy comforters that had been provided for my bed. My circulation was not good, and my rest was more or less disturbed. I feared a greater change might come in the weather, and decided to get over the ground as quickly as possible even though we should have to miss many of the details of the place.

We had breakfast with Mr. Hayes, president of the Yellowstone Camp Company, who officially, or otherwise, has been connected with operations in the Yellowstone for the past twenty-five years. Mr. Hayes was able to give us some valuable information, which we greatly appreciated.

Mammoth Camp is situated at the foot of Jupiter Terrace. A short distance away is Fort Yellowstone, where the administration headquarters of the Park is located.

I should have enjoyed seeing more of the springs, with their gorgeous hues and combinations, but with the hope that we should have the opportunity of visiting the Park again in the near future, our party took the morning stage to Old Faithful Camp, at the Upper Geyser Basin.

Before leaving, I got a glimpse of the buffalo herd on the horizon in the distance, and was surprised to hear how rapidly these animals are becoming extinct in the Park, where they are so well protected. It seems that the buffalo and the Indian go together, and thrive only where civilization has not yet come.

The weather was cold, and having to travel in an open car made it very uncomfortable until the sun had time to rise above the tall trees and the mountain peaks. A brisk wind was blowing, and most of the time I had to keep my face heavily veiled. This hindered me from getting the full benefit of the scenery on the way to the Norris Geyser Basin. Here, however, there was so much steam and boiling water I had no difficulty in getting warm.

We had a skilful driver, who called out the names of the places in a clear voice. This kept the passengers from being under a strain of uncertainty and tense listening.Obsidian Cliff, formed as the result of volcanic action in ages past, is twelve miles south of Mammoth Hot Springs. It rises two hundred fifty feet above the road and is composed of jet-black, volcanic glass, usually opaque, streaked with red, yellow, and green. When the roadway was constructed, great fires were built around blocks of this glass, which, when heated, were cooled by dashing water upon them resulting in their being shattered into fragments. This is said to be the only stretch of glass road in existence.

The cliff was "neutral ground" to the different tribes of Indians. Chips of obsidian and partly finished obsidian arrow-heads are found throughout the Park, usually at places where the Indians had their camps. When the cliff is illuminated by the rays of the sun, it has the appearance of a glistening mirror, and is of much interest to the tourists.

Four and one-half miles from Norris is Roaring Mountain with steam escaping through countless apertures from its rugged side. The sound of the steam struggling to escape is not so audible now as in the past, but the whole picture reminds one of the inferno about ready to blow off its cap.

In close proximity to the mountain are greenish, milky pools fed by rivers of sulphur water from the springs. It was not our privilege to tarry here, from the fact that the weather was uncomfortably cold, but the mountain stands out before me as one of the most interesting places to be seen on the tour.

The wind was blowing fiercely when we came to Twin Lakes, four miles from Norris Geyser Basin, but I removed my heavy veil in order to get a better glimpse of them. They are beautiful, and although in such close proximity, their hues are entirely different.

How often two objects are found so closely allied to each other as to be inseparable, each one depending upon the other for its existence! This cannot be a freak of nature or the result of chance. The only sensible conclusion is that it was so designed by the Creator to teach a most important spiritual lesson,—that of the two works of grace, which constitute the panoply of the soul. There is no way to discard either without serious results.

There is something about clear, pure water, whether it is seen in the placid lake or the gushing, mountain torrent, that inspires and lifts a person above the toils and cares of this life, where he is able to breathe a pure and holy atmosphere. Hence we see why, as shown in the Scriptures, Jesus so often used water to illustrate the plan of salvation. Water is the symbol of life, and in the boiling springs, the pools, the lakes, the chasms, and the great, spouting geysers, a book is written in the Yellowstone that every one should learn to read.

Our attention was next called to the Frying Pan, a basin fifteen feet across, with numerous boiling jets in constant and violent agitation.

I regretted that circumstances were not more favorable so that I could have a longer period of time to spend at these places, where Nature is so full of life and interest.