Under less favorable circumstances than is found for animal life in the Park, these little workers with their soft, silken fur would have been hunted down and captured before they could have brought the work to completion. Again, I could not help but exclaim, What a blessing are the laws governing the Yellowstone Park! [Illustration: BEAVER DAM © _Haynes, St. Paul_] The rangers, with stations interspersed throughout the vast area of more than 3,000 square miles, are employed by the government for the protection of life and property, and arrests are quickly made and penalties fixed when there is any violation of the law. These men are not soldiers, but patrolmen on horseback, dressed in cowboy's uniform. An ordinary soldier would be unfitted for such work. Men in leather shaps are needed who can break and ride bronchos, throw the lariat, and round up the herds; those who are used to the mountain fastnesses and the buffalo path, the haunts of black, brown, and grizzly bears, and are acquainted with the habits of the elk, moose, mountain sheep, the antelope, the deer, etc.; those who know the habits and lurking places of the unscrupulous hunters and poachers who defy the laws and by any or all means seek to evade punishment. No one is better fitted than the western ranger to track them down and see that they are brought to justice. When we arrived at the MAMMOTH SPRINGS, we found a welcome at the camp and soon felt very much at home. It was cool enough for a fire, and many of the tourists gathered around the stove in the office and chatted with one another until the evening meal, which proved to be a plentiful repast and well served. Our tents were furnished after the same pattern as those of the Grand Canyon Camp, with the exception that these were lighted with electricity. The MAMMOTH HOT SPRINGS and the beautiful terraces, in attempting description of which all language has been exhausted, were only a short distance from the camp; without waiting for a guide, we were soon winding our way up the side of the hill and around the road where we could find an entrance to the plateau. I had seen pictures of the many springs and terraces in colors, and had supposed they were overdrawn, but I found myself in the same bewildered state as when I first saw the Grand Canyon. Before I was aware, my tears were flowing freely at the thought of how impossible it would be to describe these springs to my friends and others who, perhaps, would never have the opportunity of seeing them. The blending of colors cannot be reproduced by the brush of the most gifted artist. I was thankful that God had permitted me to see the work of His hands that I might help others in the battle for eternal life.