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UST above the Canon Hotel, the 

 Yellowstone anticipates its long 

 descent to the Missouri. It con- 

 tracts, begins to boil and foam 

 and show its angry whitecaps 

 just where the park engineers 

 have thrown across it a magnificent bridge of 

 concrete — a single arch, a cobweb-like structure, 

 that seems held in air by a continuous miracle. 

 From that bridge the view is superb. From 

 above, the water comes clamoring and breaking, 

 green and frothy, rushing swiftly to its Upper 

 Falls, whose smooth green lip you can see just 

 below. Elsewhere this Upper Fall would be 

 enough. Its distinction and peculiar charm 

 would make it a place of ^pilgrimage from far and 



