UPPER AND LOWER FALLS
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."
[Illustration: BEAR FEEDING "A LA CARTE" © _Haynes, St. Paul_]
"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.
[Illustration: UPPER YELLOWSTONE FALL © _Haynes, St. Paul_]
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.