A very narrow road has been cut out of the rocks at the base of the mountain, and about four feet above a small stream. It has two very sharp turns, and all around, as far as we could see, it would be exceedingly dangerous, if not impossible, for large wagons to pass. Miss Hayes and I went on up, gathering and rejecting pieces of obsidian that had probably been gathered and rejected by hundreds of tourists before us, and we were laughing and having a beautiful time when, for some reason, I looked back, and down on the point where the road almost doubles on itself I saw an old wagon with two horses, and standing by the wagon were two men. They were looking at us, and very soon one beckoned. I looked all around, thinking that some of their friends must certainly be near us, but no one was in sight. By that time one man was waving his hat to us, and then they actually called, "Come on down here—come down, it is all right!"
Miss Hayes is quite deaf, and I was obliged to go around rocks before I could get near enough to tell her of the wagon below, and the men not hear me. She gave the men and wagon an indifferent glance, and then went on searching for specimens. I was so vexed I could have shaken her. She will scream over a worm or spider, and almost faint at the sight of a snake, but those two men, who were apparently real tramps, she did not mind. The situation was critical, and for just one instant I thought hard. If we were to go over the small mountain we would probably be lost, and might encounter all sorts of wild beasts, and if those men were really vicious they could easily overtake us. Besides, it would never do to let them suspect that we were afraid. So I decided to go down—and slowly down I went, almost dragging Miss Hayes with me. She did not understand my tactics, and I did not stop to explain.
I went right to the men, taking care to get between them and the road to camp. I asked them if they were in trouble of any kind, and they said "No." I could hardly control my voice, but it seemed important that I should give them to understand at once who we were. So I said, "Did you meet our friends in the army ambulance just down the road?" The two looked at each other and then one said "Yes!" I continued with, "There are two very large and heavily loaded army wagons, and a number of soldiers coming down the other road that should be here right now." They smiled again, and said something to each other, but I interrupted with, "I do not see how those big wagons and four mules can pass you here, and it seems to me you had better get out of their way, for soldiers can be awfully cross if things are not just to suit them."
Well, those two men got in the old wagon without saying one word and started on, and we watched them until they had disappeared from sight around a bend, and then I said to Miss Hayes, "Come!" and lifting my skirts, I started on the fastest run I ever made in my life, and I kept it up until I actually staggered. Then I sat upon a rock back of some bushes and waited for Miss Hayes, who appeared after a few minutes. We rested for a short time and then went on and on, and still there was nothing to be seen of the meadow where the camp was supposed to be. Finally, after we had walked miles, it seemed to us, we saw an opening far ahead, and the sharp silhouette of a man under the arch of trees, and when we reached the end of the wooded road we found Captain Spencer waiting for us. He at once started off on a fine inspection-day reprimand, but I was tired and cross and reminded him that it was he who had told us that the camp would be only one mile from us, and if we had not listened to him we would not have stopped at all. Then we all laughed!
Captain and Mrs. Spencer had become worried, and the ambulance was just starting back for us when fortunately we appeared. Miss Hayes cannot understand yet why I went down to that wagon. The child does not fear tramps and desperadoes, simply because she has never encountered them. Whether my move was wise or unwise, I knew that down on the road we could run—up among the rocks we could not. Besides, I have the satisfaction of knowing that once in my life I outgeneraled a man—two men—and whether they were friends or foes I care not now. I was wearing an officer's white cork helmet at the time, and possibly that helped matters a little. But why did they call to us—why beckon for us to come down? It was my birthday too. That evening Mrs. Spencer made some delicious punch and brought out the last of the huge fruit cake she made for the trip. We had bemoaned the fact of its having all been eaten, and all the time she had a piece hidden away for my birthday, as a great surprise.
We have had one very stormy day. It began to rain soon after we broke camp in the morning, not hard, but in a cold, penetrating drizzle. Captain and Mrs. Spencer were riding that day and continued to ride until luncheon, and by that time they were wet to the skin and shaking from the cold. We were nearing the falls, the elevation was becoming greater and the air more chilling every minute. We had expected to reach the Yellowstone River that day, but it was so wet and disagreeable that Captain Spencer decided to go into camp at a little spring we came to in the early afternoon, and which was about four miles from here. The tents were pitched just above the base of a hill—you would call it a mountain in the East—and in a small grove of trees. The ground was thickly carpeted with dead leaves, and everything looked most attractive from the ambulance.
When Miss Hayes and I went to our tent, however, to arrange it, we found that underneath that thick covering of leaves a sheet of water was running down the side of the hill, and with every step our feet sank down almost ankle deep in the wet leaves and water. Each has a little iron cot, and the two had been set up and the bedding put upon them by the soldiers, and they looked so inviting we decided to rest a while and get warm also. But much to our disgust we found that our mattresses were wet and all of our blankets more or less wet, too. It was impossible to dry one thing in the awful dampness, so we folded the blankets with the dry part on top as well as we could, and then "crawled in." We hated to get up for dinner, but as we were guests, we felt that we must do so, but for that meal we waited in vain—not one morsel of dinner was prepared that night, and Miss Hayes and I envied the enlisted men when we got sniffs of their boiling coffee. Only a soldier could have found dry wood and a place for making coffee that night.
When it is at all wet Faye always has our tents "ditched," that is, the sod turned up on the canvas all around the bottom. So just before dark I asked Captain Spencer if the men could not do that to our tent, and it was done without delay. It made a great difference in our comfort, for at once the incoming of the water was stopped. We all retired early that night, and notwithstanding our hunger, and the wet below and above us, our sleep was sound. In the morning we found several inches of snow on the ground and the whole country was white. The snow was so moist and clinging, that the small branches of trees were bent down with its weight, and the effect of the pure white on the brilliant greens was enchanting. Over all was the glorious sunshine that made the whole grand scene glisten and sparkle like fairyland. And that day was the twenty-sixth of August!
It was wretchedly cold, and our heaviest wraps seemed thin and light. Lottie gave us a nice hot breakfast, and after that things looked much more cheerful. By noon most of the snow had disappeared, and after an early luncheon we came on to these dry, piney woods, that claim an elevation of nine thousand feet. The rarefied air affects people so differently. Some breathe laboriously and have great difficulty in walking at all, while to others it is most exhilarating, and gives them strength to walk great distances. Fortunately, our whole party is of the latter class.
Yesterday morning early we all started for a tramp down the canon. I do not mean that we were in the canon by the river, for that would have been impossible, but that we went along the path that runs close to the edge of the high cliff. We carried our luncheon with us, so there was no necessity for haste, and every now and then we sat upon the thick carpet of pine needles to rest, and also study the marvelous coloring of the cliffs across the river. The walls of the canon are very high and very steep—in many places perpendicular—and their strata of brilliant colors are a marvel to everyone. It was a day to be remembered, and no one seemed to mind being a little tired when we returned late in the afternoon. The proprietor of the little log hotel that is only a short distance up the river, told Captain Spencer that we had gone down six good miles—giving us a tramp altogether, of twelve miles. It seems incredible, for not one of us could walk one half that distance in less rarefied air.