One afternoon at Norris's, the President and I took a walk to observe
the birds. In the grove about the barns there was a great number, the
most attractive to me being the mountain bluebird. These birds we saw
in all parts of the Park, and at Norris's there was an unusual number
of them. How blue they were,--breast and all. In voice and manner they
were almost identical with our bluebird. The Western purple finch was
abundant here also, and juncos, and several kinds of sparrows, with an
occasional Western robin. A pair of wild geese were feeding in the
low, marshy ground not over one hundred yards from us, but when we
tried to approach nearer they took wing. A few geese and ducks seem to
winter in the Park.
The second morning at Norris's, one of our teamsters, George Marvin,
suddenly dropped dead from some heart affection, just as he had
finished caring for his team. It was a great shock to us all. I never
saw a better man with a team than he was. I had ridden on the seat
beside him all the day previous. On one of the "formations" our teams
had got mired in the soft, putty-like mud, and at one time it looked
as if they could never extricate themselves, and I doubt if they could
have, had it not been for the skill with which Marvin managed them. We
started for the Grand Canyon up the Yellowstone that morning, and, in
order to give myself a walk over the crisp snow in the clear, frosty
air, I set out a little while in advance of the teams. As I did so, I
saw the President, accompanied by one of the teamsters, walking
hurriedly toward the barn to pay his last respects to the body of
Marvin. After we had returned to Mammoth Hot Springs, he made
inquiries for the young woman to whom he had been told that Marvin was
engaged to be married. He looked her up, and sat a long time with her
in her home, offering his sympathy, and speaking words of consolation.
The act shows the depth and breadth of his humanity.