o blue--called Mary's Lake; and that between eight
and nine thousand feet above the sea.

Afterward, grass downs, all on a vehement slope, so that the buggy,
following the new-made road, ran on the two off-wheels mostly till we
dipped head-first into a ford, climbed up a cliff, raced along down,
dipped again, and pulled up dishevelled at "Larry's" for lunch and an
hour's rest.

Then we lay on the grass and laughed with sheer bliss of being alive.
This have I known once in Japan, once on the banks of the Columbia, what
time the salmon came in and California howled, and once again in the
Yellowstone by the light of the eyes of the maiden from New Hampshire.
Four little pools lay at my elbow, one was of black water (tepid), one
clear water (cold), one clear water (hot), one red water (boiling).
My newly washed handkerchief covered them all, and we two marvelled as
children marvel.

"This evening we shall do the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone," said the
maiden.

"Together?" said I; and she said, "Yes."

The sun was beginning to sink when we heard the roar of falling waters
and came to a broad river along whose banks we ran. And then--I might
at a pinch describe the infernal regions, but not the other place. The
Yellowstone River has occasion to run through a gorge about eight miles
long. To get to the bottom of the gorge it makes two leaps, one of
about one hundred and twenty and the other of three hundred feet. I
investigated the upper or lesser fall, which is close to the hotel.

Up to that time nothing particular happens to the Yellowstone--its banks
being only rocky, rather steep, and plentifully adorned with pines.

At the falls it comes round a corner, green, solid, ribbed with a little
foam, and not more than thirty yards wide. Then it goes over, still
green, and rather more solid than before. After a minute or two, you,
sitting upon a rock directly above the drop, begin to understand that
something has occurred; that the river has jumped between solid cliff
walls, and that the gentle froth of water lapping the sides of the gorge
below is really the outcome of great waves.

And the river yells aloud; but the cliffs do not allow the yells to
escape.

That inspection began with curiosity and finished in terror, for it
seemed that the whole world was sliding in chrysolite from under my
feet. I followed with the others round the corner to arrive at the brink
of the canyon. We had to climb up a nearly perpendi