e best and most terrible view of the canon
was a narrow projecting point situated two or three miles below the
lower fall.[H] Standing there or rather lying there for greater safety,
I thought how utterly impossible it would be to describe to another the
sensations inspired by such a presence. As I took in this scene, I
realized my own littleness, my helplessness, my dread exposure to
destruction, my inability to cope with or even comprehend the mighty
architecture of nature. More than all this I felt as never before my
entire dependence upon that Almighty Power who had wrought these
wonders. A sense of danger, lest the rock should crumble away, almost
overpowered me. My knees trembled, and I experienced the terror which
causes, men to turn pale and their countenances to blanch with fear, and
I recoiled from the vision I had seen, glad to feel the solid earth
beneath me and to realize the assurance of returning safety.

The scenery surrounding the canon and falls on both banks of the
Yellowstone is enlivened by all the hues of abundant vegetation. The
foot-hills approach the river, crowned with a vesture of evergreen
pines. Meadows verdant with grasses and shrubbery stretch away to the
base of the distant mountains, which, rolling into ridges, rising into
peaks, and breaking into chains, are defined in the deepest blue upon
the horizon. To render the scene still more imposing, remarkable
volcanic deposits, wonderful boiling springs, jets of heated vapor,
large collections of sulphur, immense rocks and petrifications abound in
great profusion in this immediate vicinity. The river is filled with
trout, and bear, elk, deer, mountain lions and lesser game roam the
plains, forests and mountain fastnesses.

The two grand falls of the Yellowstone form a fitting completion to this
stupendous climax of wonders. They impart life, power, light and majesty
to an assemblage of elements, which without them would be the most
gloomy and horrible solitude in nature. Their eternal anthem, echoing
from canon, mountain, rock and woodland, thrills you with delight, and
you gaze with rapture at the iris-crowned curtains of fleecy foam as
they plunge into gulfs enveloped in mist and spray. The stillness which
held your senses spellbound, as you peered into the dismal depths of the
canon below, is now broken by the uproar of waters; the terror it
inspired is superseded by admiration and astonishment, and the scene,
late so painful from its si