When he was asked what he knew about Moscow, he answered:

"Oh, they were putting through a five-year plan there."

"And what was that five-year plan?"

"Oh, that's when everybody works for the government, and they get three meals a day for it."

"Well! All right," said Mr. Adams, "let us suppose that that is so. What else have you heard?"

"I heard that the five-year plan was successful and that now they're putting through a second five-year plan."

"Well! And what is the second five-year plan like?"

"I don't know," answered the young man. "I heard that over there everybody works and people help each other. But what's the difference? Soon there will be war, and right after war the second coming of Christ. And the Russians will perish, because they're atheists. Without faith in God no one can save himself from the tortures of hell. That's what the Bible says."

"But who told you that there will soon be the second coming?"

"Why, our pastor said it."

"Will it come soon?"

"Very soon," the young Baptist replied quite seriously. "In about two or three years."

"Very well!" exclaimed Mr. Adams. " Let us suppose that that is so. You just told -us that the Russians help each other and that over there everybody has a job. Would you say they were good people?"

"Yes," replied the Baptist after a moment's thought.

"Excellent! They do not exploit each other and they love one another! From your point of view, they have organized God's Kingdom on Earth. But they do not believe in God. What shall we do about it? Answer me that question!"

"Since they do not believe in God, they will not go to heaven," the Baptist replied in a firm voice. "They will perish."

"But they are good people. You said so yourself!"

"That makes no difference. Yes, they do good things. Our pastor told us that himself, because, you understand, our pastor is a just man. But in the Bible it says that it is not enough to do good deeds. You must have faith. Therefore, they are doomed to perish."

"No, seriously," Mr. Adams insisted. "You are a smart young man—you graduated from high school... Is it possible that Christ, coming to earth for the second time, will punish a hundred and seventy million excellent Russian fellows who have achieved the elimination of the hungry and the unemployed, so that everybody is well fed and happy? Just think of it! A hundred and seventy million people, people who toil, good, honest people. Is it possible that God will be so cruel that He would not admit them to heaven?"

Our hitchhiker sank into deep thought. It was evident that he was sorry for those good Russian fellows. He wavered for a long time before replying.

But even this remarkable, horrifying, and touching picture of the encounter between a hundred and seventy million Soviet atheists with the little Baptist God could not convince our fellow traveller.

"You see," he said, stammering, "it says so. in the Bible, and you must either accept it as a whole, or..."

"Well, well, or ...!" exclaimed Mr. Adams in complete exultation.

"Without faith in God no one can save himself," the boy muttered.

"Look! Look!" Mrs. Adams cried.

We were entering Zion Canyon, and the conversation with the young Baptist terminated.

No one was at the entrance booth. We stopped our machine and honked our horn several times, but no one came.

"I call your attention, gentlemen," said Mr. Adams, "to the fact that they don't want to take our dollars. We shall see Zion Canyon free of charge."

For some time we drove between crowded red cliffs from which pines and some strange roots stuck out in various directions.

The canyon widened. Some of the cliffs were cut through with long straight fissures. Others were scratched all over, like an arithmetic paper.

"If you like," said Mr. Adams, "I'll sell you an excellent literary simile. How much will you give me for it ? You won't give me anything for it? You want it for nothing? Well, all right: The wind has written its history on these cliffs. Is it good? Write it down in your little books! I am sure I have enriched Russian literature with that."

We made several turns. The canyon broadened more and more. Yesterday it seemed to us that there could not be anything in the world more grandiose than Grand Canyon. But only one day had passed and we saw something which, while not so immense, was immeasurably more complex and fantastic. At Grand Canyon we looked from the bottom up. Through Zion Canyon we drove at the bottom or along those protuberances of its walls on which a road was laid. Grand Canyon appeared to us in the form of mountains, mountains turned inside out. Here we saw the walls of a canyon which looked to us like mountains in the ordinary sense of the word. The other landscape seemed to us the cold landscape of another planet. Here there were no comparisons and could not be any. We were in the magic kingdom of childish dreams and visions. On the road over which we drove lay a shadow, while the massive overhanging cliffs basked in the light of the sun. We passed through a brassy red hollow and found ourselves in a new vast canyon. Very high, against the background of the sky, could be seen red towers, carrousels, pyramids, the snouts of animals. Over the road and under it grew pines and firs, aslant. Dried-out beds of streams crept down. Far away, on a cliff lighted by the sun, gleamed a frozen stream like a neatly pasted-in bit of tin.

We drove into the tunnel. For some time we moved ahead in utter darkness. Then, ahead of us light appeared. In the wall of the tunnel had been hewed a broad arch which led to small terraces with stone ledges. We left the machine. The closing of the door sounded like a cannon shot. There were cliffs everywhere. We saw only a little of the sky. Below us lay a quiet pool of water. In such solemn surroundings man is either silent or he begins to do foolish things. For no reason whatever we suddenly began to emit piercing cries, in order to find out whether there was an echo here. We discovered that there was an echo.

Into the tunnel, which stretched for more than half a mile and was cut especially for viewing the canyon at a cost of over a million dollars, the builders built several windows. From each of these windows a new vista opened. Very far below shone the asphalt knot of the road on which tiny automobiles moved without a sound. Almost all the cliffs and their sharp shadows unfailingly reminded us of someone or of something - a cat's head, claws, the shadow of a railway locomotive. Crowning all was the colossal figure of an Indian, hewed out of the cliff by nature itself, an Indian with a calm, stern face and with a curious little box on top of his head which at the same time looked also like feathers.

We drove out of the tunnel. Five minutes later we were descending the very same knot of roads which we had looked upon through the window. On the highway were several fallen yellow leaves. We also came across several puddles covered with thin ice. The shadow of the opposite wall touched the feet of the Indian. The silence was without end. We drove at the very slowest speed, having turned off our motor. We moved down quietly and solemnly, like a floating bird.

A little tree with yellow chicklike leaves appeared. And after it another, with green leaves. We found ourselves in summer.

That day—in one day, or rather, in the course of a few hours—we had passed through all the four seasons of the year.