t their
lives in such work to guide and guard strangers when they come into the
National Parks. Many visitors resent advice, and are quite ready to cry
for help when they get into difficulties or danger by ignoring
instructions. And usually they don't appreciate the risks that are taken
to rescue them from their own folly.

A young man from New York City, with his companion, walked down the
Bright Angel Trail to the Colorado River. Everybody knows, or should
know, that the Colorado River is a most treacherous river. One glance at
the sullen, silt-filled current tells that story. It seldom gives up its
dead. But the New Yorker swam it, with his shoes and underclothing on.
By the time he reached the far side he was completely exhausted. More
than that he was panic-stricken at the undercurrents and whirlpools that
had pulled at him and almost dragged him under. He would not swim back.
His companion signaled and yelled encouragement, but nothing doing.

Behind him rose a hundred-foot precipice; his clothes and his friend
were on the southern bank. The bridge was four miles above, but
unscalable walls made it impossible for him to reach that. Furthermore,
night was at hand.

When his friend knew that it was hopeless to wait any longer, he left
him perched on a rock and started to Headquarters for help. This was a
climb over seven miles of trail that gained a mile in altitude in that
distance. Disregarding the facts that they had already done their day's
work, that it was dark, and that his predicament was of his own making,
the rangers went to the rescue.

A canvas boat was lashed on a mule, another mule was led along for the
victim to ride out on, and with four rangers the caravan was off. It was
the plan to follow the trail to the Suspension Bridge, cross to the
northern bank, follow down the river four miles to the cliff above the
spot where the adventurer was roosting let the boat down over the ledge
to the river, and, when the New Yorker got in, pull the boat upstream by
means of the ropes until they found a safe place to drag it to shore.

When almost down the trail they met the lad coming up, and he was mad!
"Why didn't they come quicker? Why wasn't there a ranger down there to
keep him from swimming the river?" And so forth. But no thanks to the
men that had gone willingly to his rescue. However, they said they were
well paid by the sight of him toiling up the trail in the moonlight, _au
naturel_! They loaded hi