"Jesse, your arrowhead has been a long way from home! Are you going to take it back? Has it served its purpose in teaching you something about your own country?" Jesse sat silent for a time, then, "Uncle Dick," said he, at last, "I am going to take my arrowhead back. When we get to that rock you tell about, I am going to put it down right at the foot, just the way it is, with other pieces like those the Indians took away." "Good!" said Uncle Dick. "The little sentiment won't hurt you, anyhow. I suppose your arrowhead will remain there undiscovered for a thousand years. The tourists who come there now in their touring cars look at that black-faced rock about half a second and whiz by. They want to make the next lunch station." "That's no lie," said Billy Williams. "Folks nowadays don't know how to travel." They concluded their packing arrangements, rolling their bed rolls tight and storing them along the hood of the car and on the running boards, where Con had fixed up a little rack to carry the extra baggage. Saying good-by to their hospitable friends, the two parties now separated. Without incident the journey of that day was completed as outlined by their leader, and that night they spread their tent in a public camping ground on the banks of the Madison River, in sight of twenty other tents besides their own. "Nothing much here of interest," said Uncle Dick, "except yonder mountains. The Madison here is a beautiful stream, but fished to death. That mountain is not much changed." "What about it?" said Rob, curiously. "That's National Park Mountain. We are camping now precisely where the Hayden, Doane, and Langford exploring party camped when they were going out in 1871 after finishing the first exploration of Yellowstone Park. It was right here, at this camping place, that Cornelius Hedges, one of their number, proposed the establishment of the Yellowstone Park, so that all of this wonderland should be preserved forever." "Well," said Rob, drawing a long breath, "we are getting into some history now around here!" But they talked no more history at the time, for by now all were weary with the journey. As early as the next their camp fire was alight the following morning. Billy took Jesse up to Gibbon and across to the Obsidian Cliff, where he carried out his intention, and hid his obsidian arrowhead at the foot of the great rock. "There!" said he, "I'll bet, if anybody finds it, he'll wonder who made it!" Soon they were on their way back to Yellowstone Station on the Bozeman road. Following it out, under Con O'Brien's steady driving, and asking a hundred questions of Billy en route, they finally swept down late in the evening into the beautiful valley of the Gallatin. Winding among the farms, they pulled up at last at Billy Williams's comfortable ranch house and soon were made at home.