228 BOOK OF A HUNDRED BEARS 



want to see it once. I think you will hardly care 

 to do so again. 



Four miles from the hotel we struck the beauti- 

 ful canon of the Gibbon and followed the river for 

 some miles; in fact, until it unites with the Firehole 

 to make the Madison. 



The road down the Gibbon is the prettiest in 

 the Park. It dips and slides around the caiion 

 walls, with the river beside us, flowing smoothly 

 over long rock slides, or fretting at some impedi- 

 ment. Here leaping down the Virginia Cascade, 

 and there spreading out into smooth, long reaches 

 that reflect the trees and mountains. 



At noon we stopped for lunch at the junction of 

 the Gibbon and the Firehole, and there struck the 

 road we came in on. Coming in, we had turned to 

 the right to follow the Firehole to its upper basin, 

 where Old Faithful performs its hourly miracle. 

 Returning, we had followed down the other 

 branch of the Madison to their junction. 



We spread our blankets on the grass and opened 

 the lunch that our lady of the Norris Hotel had 

 provided — a forest wonder. There was every- 



