Camping Out in the Yellowstone: Letters Written in 1882, by Mrs. Mary B

Excerpt from Camping Out in the Yellowstone: Letters Written in 1882, by Mrs. Mary B. Richards to the Salem Observer

The lake is very large, its shores sinuous, and with the mountains so nearly encircling it, forms apicturesque background to the near and strangely grouped bathers and spectators. We found the water buoyant, more so than that of the Dead Sea; not bitter but much salter. The bucket of fresh water placed in every dressing room is an absolute necessity for removing the salt which incrusts the skin on leaving the lake.

Sabbath morning the s0th, we joined the wor shippers in the temple, a building whose egg-shaped roof figures in every picture of Salt Lake City. The Temple is a strange and ugly edifice, constructed throughout in defiance of architectural grace, but answering the purpose of its builders. Ten thous and persons can be simultaneously sheltered from sun or rain on comfortable seats; can enjoy perfect ventilation and hear distinctly the voice of a speaker or the faintest note of the organ. A choir of over a hundred voices took places: men on the left, women on the right of the organ. Between organist and audience was the pulpit, which comprised sev eral rows of velvet-cushioned benches and manv reading desks. Below these was a long table upon which were arranged vessels used in the communion service; viz., dozens of pitchers, baskets and two handled goblets, all of silver or plated ware.

Among the apostles in the pulpit sat D. H. Wells, the successor of Brigham Young, but John Taylor was not present. At each side of the choir and filling the entire width of the edifice were rows up on rows of Mormon elders, the majority of themgray-headed, serious-visaged men. We were given seats in the very midst of the Mormon multitude, below the pulpit and near the Lion fountain in the centre of the building. The Splashing of four jets of falling water, the chirping of sparrows darting in and out over our heads, and the intermittent squeak and babble of at least fifty babies in arms, gave a variety of sound before the singing of hymns began.

I studied the forms and faces of old and young men and women around me, and failed to discover aught above or below commonplace in line or ex pression. A crowd of human beings in a civilized community is much the same. Doubtless here, as elsewhere, beneath calm, hard or passionless exte rior are deep regrets, vain longings and many a breaking heart. After the singing of a hymn, ten elders took places standing side by side at the table below the pulpit, and commenced breaking large slices of bread in small pieces; these they piled up in baskets, on which blessing was asked by an apostle, and then distributed to the people, each basket being passed up one row of seats and down the next till empty. It was then refilled, blessed and passed as before.

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