YELLOWSTONE LAKE 133 



much to wonder over, too much to look forward 

 to. After a mile or two the Lady lifted up her 

 voice in song, and Dudgeon joined in with a 

 mellow tenor that would have coaxed a bird out 

 of his tree. He knew all the songs and could 

 sing them. By and by, Chuck and Spot got to 

 disputing about a collegiate football game. Dud- 

 geon leaned back and corrected them. It turned 

 out that he had played in sixteen inter-collegiate 

 games, and, from that time on, he melted into our 

 party as naturally as though he had grown up 

 with us. 



I do not recall much of that road to the Thumb; 

 it passed with jest and laughter and song. What 

 mattered soggy ways and dripping skies, as we 

 carried with us all that was necessary to human 

 happiness. Neither the superb view of the 

 Three Tetons, the beautiful sapphire gleam of 

 Shoshone Lake, which you glimpse at one of the 

 turns, nor the wonderful corkscrew hill, one of the 

 roadmaking feats of the Park, could move us 

 much to wonder or delay us long. I remember 

 that, somewhere on the road, we crossed the 



