"THE YELLOWSTONE IDEA"
It has already been disclosed that Yellowstone Park has served the
nation as an experimental unit in certain fields of conservation. While
this is true, it would not be correct to regard the Park as the single
place of origin for such a complex and salutary movement. Today the
conservation of natural resources is one of America's most popular and
cherished causes, but it was not always so. A brief review of the
conservation issue will provide a background for a correct appraisal of
the position of the National Park System in relation to the nation's
over-all conservation program.
When the first colonies were established along the Atlantic seaboard
America was a land of trees. This profusion of flora constituted an
obstacle counted more serious than hostile Indians.[258] The natives had
already fully cleared limited areas from the ravages of ancient fires,
but the great forest stood almost limitless, and it was dense. Ambitious
farmers yearned for the sight of bare ground; all trees irritated their
eyes and caused them to reach for their axes. They wanted soil as rich
as a barnyard, level as a floor, stone free, cleared clean of trees,
without cost.[259] Except for the absence of trees, these amazing
requirements were largely possible of fulfillment because never before
had "heaven and earth agreed better to frame a place for man's
habitation."[260] Here, indeed, was another Eden once it was redeemed
from the leafy wilderness.
Colonials rallied to the challenge of a conquest over nature. They
"drove" whole groves by partially felling each in a series and then
touching off a chain reaction with the downfall of a ponderous giant.
Thus did settlers cleave their way into the forests, rejecting in nature
all that was not of immediate practical value. A little poem published
in 1692 depicts their philosophy:
In such a wilderness ...
When we began to clear the land ...
Then with ax, with Might and Strength,
The trees so thick and strong ...
[These] we with Fire, most furiously
To ashes did confound.[261]
Next to the destruction of trees in clearing operations came the use of
wood for fuel. A river steamboat or railroad locomotive required from
twenty to thirty cords per day. "Woodhawks" literally denuded whole
forests to supply these needs. Houses were largely built of wood, and it
was liberally used in all domestic operations. In winter the family kept
warm, not by securing "sich uppish notions" as blankets, but by throwing
more wood on the fire, "nobody needn't suffer with a great fire to sleep
by."[262] Rails were used in building fences at the rate of twenty-six
thousand per section. The increase of population and acceleration of
industrial activity in the early nineteenth century took a heavy toll
from the forests. Fires were started by sparks from steam engines and by
careless hunters, with the result that the precious blotter of humus,
millenniums in building, was often destroyed in a flash. For two
centuries America had advanced westward in a wood age, and trees were
always in the way.
However, there were wise men who had always deplored tree waste. William
Penn insisted that one acre of forest remain for each five cleared.
Benjamin Franklin invented a stove to save fuel. George Washington and
Peter Kalm warned of dangers ahead from floods and erosion through
wanton clearing of land.[263] In 1813, Thomas Jefferson sagely wrote:
The spontaneous energies of the earth are a gift of nature, but they
require the labor of man to direct their operation. And the question
is so to husband this labor as to turn the greatest quantity of this
useful action of the earth to his benefit.[264]
It will be noted that the foregoing suggestions were made by practical
men upon sound considerations. However, there came an occasional
complaint upon the philosophic and aesthetic level. Jonathan Edwards,
André Michaux, George Catlin, and William Cullen Bryant were among those
who visualized nature as a dynamic organization of living creatures
worthy of existence in their own right and for the joy they gave. Their
appreciation is illustrated by this verse:
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of his hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
To be sure, little resulted from this approach; the time was not ripe.
But these slender stirrings of thought and twitchings of conscience in
high places were bound to be fruitful in results later on.
By the middle of the nineteenth century the springs and streams which
had previously provided a murmuring labyrinth of dependable forest
hospitality and protection had become irregular, undependable, and
sometimes downright vicious. The lifeblood of the land, which, under
nature's balance, had throbbed daily and monthly almost as evenly as the
sea, was now given to torrential rages in early June which were reduced
to feeble trickles in July. Restless farmers found their plantings
delayed until after the spring floods abated, and although the willing
seed germinated quickly the tender plants were desiccated by midsummer
heat. These conditions made it increasingly apparent that Americans
would soon be compelled to approach nature as a friend rather than as an
adversary. Any other course was suicidal.
By 1850 a new and more persuasive corps of conservationists was
emerging. They affirmed that a nation desiring nature's rewards must
first learn her laws and then obey them implicitly.[265] They defined
conservation as the protection and development of the full usefulness of
natural resources, including forests, waters, minerals, scenery, and the
land itself. Among these far-seeing men were Henry Thoreau, Ralph Waldo
Emerson, and John Muir. Through a persuasive campaign of lecturing and
writing they established the plain fact that Americans, as a people, had
never learned to love the land and regard it as an enduring resource.
Rather had they viewed it as a field for exploitation and a source of
immediate financial return.
Although the effect of these declarations was quite negligible, still
Congress did appoint several timber agents in 1850. This was the first
glimmering of a systematic approach to the inspection and policing of
federal timber resources. But what have these humble beginnings in
conservation to do with the Yellowstone National Park idea? Only this, a
child cannot take a second step until it takes the first. Americans have
never been particularly inclined toward sentimentality. A national
pleasuring ground, such as Yellowstone Park, designed to serve "as a
great breathing place for the national lung, as a place to which every
American citizen can resort," could not have come into being without
considerable intellectual preparation.[266]
Congress could hardly be expected to enact protective legislation to
stem this traditional exploitation until the idea of conservation became
reasonably articulate and popular. Remember, that even at mid-century
the thinkers were still groping for a program. Perhaps the first
American possessed of both the appreciation and imagination to forecast
what later evolved into the National Park program was George Catlin.
When traveling up the Missouri River in 1832 he was so impressed as to
write, "The realms might in future be seen preserved in their pristine
beauty and wildness, in a magnificent park ... containing man and beast,
in all the wild and freshness of their nature's beauty."[267]
In 1844 Ralph Waldo Emerson generalized upon the public need for
recreational areas. "The interminable forests," said he, "should become
graceful parks for use and delight." Henry Thoreau was even more
penetrating when he wrote:
Why should not we ... have our national preserves ... in which the
bear and panther, and some even of the hunter race, may still exist,
and not be "civilized" off the face of the earth ... for inspiration
and our true re-creation? Or should we, like villains, grub them all
up for poaching on our own national domains?[268]
Perhaps these men reached these conclusions more by inspiration than
logic, but in George P. Marsh, conservation had a sound advocate. He
spoke and wrote with authority upon the principle of "conserving unique
areas for their greatest values," whether utility or scenery. In his
book, _Man and Nature_, published in 1864, he argued persuasively for
balanced economy and pointed to the fact of man's ultimate dependence
upon elemental things. These wise views concerning forest influences
upon precipitation, springs, sand storms, floods, and man's own property
made a deep impression upon many people.[269] Since then the good work
has been continued by other scientists. In 1948, _Our Plundered Planet_,
written by Fairfield Osborn, reviewed the nation's unpalatable record of
negligence and waste. He characterized the Americans as energetic,
destructive, violent, and unthinking. Considering the element of time,
the United States has received more reckless treatment than any other
segment of the world. As a result, vast resources are gone beyond hope
of redemption, but others are renewable through the application of
scientific principles.
The tide of the world's population is rising; the reservoir of the
earth's resources is falling. Since World War II, America seems to be in
the middle position of strain. In these circumstances, will it be
possible to maintain and enlarge the standard of living as in the past
eras? Fairfield Osborn insists that our attitude toward conservation
holds the key to the problem. Success in this endeavor will require
supreme cooperation among government, industry, labor, scientific
research, and the public at large. Should this grand partnership
eventuate, Mr. Osborn has promised that "no end is visible or even
conceivable to this kingdom of adventure."
Interest in these great truths is well established now and will not be
permitted to decline, because America has many scientists at work in the
field of soil conservation. This work is furthered by the specialists of
the U. S. Soil Conservation Service. The soil experts constantly remind
the farmers, and others, that America possessed an average top "black"
soil depth of nine inches when settlement was first started. They now
estimate the average to be between six and seven inches. Soil
conservationists hasten to point out that rocks disintegrate slowly, and
that ages, not centuries, are required for the growth and decay of
plants needed in the production of rich humus soil. Soil scientists do
not simply call attention to dangers. They have developed dependable and
salutary cultivating practices such as contour plowing of tillable soil
and terracing of range land. They advise plowing stubble and cover crops
under to add fertility and cohesion to the soil.
Experimentation has been fruitful from the standpoint of discovering
grass and legume adaptability to the different soil conditions. One
phase of national security is contingent upon the effectiveness with
which these practices are applied by all who work with farm, range, and
forest resources. The record will prove that nearly 300,000,000 acres of
land have been practically destroyed by erosion in the United States.
Twice that acreage is rapidly deteriorating under the same forces.
Remember, that it was only a century ago when Americans received their
first rudimentary lessons in exercising a little common sense in the
exploitation of resources, whether for crops, lumber, mineral,
livestock, or recreational opportunities.
Referring again to the status of conservation and natural philosophy in
the middle nineteenth century, it should be noted that several
California citizens first beheld the beauty of Yosemite in 1851.
Inspired and overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of these high Sierra
marvels, they returned to commune again and again. Artists,
photographers, and authors joined the growing procession, and most of
them concurred in the opinion that it was "the greatest marvel on the
continent." Increasing appreciation and popularity developed into a
movement for segregation under state ownership and operation. In 1864 an
application was made for a federal land grant with that end in view. A
strong committee, headed by Israel Ward Raymond, drafted the resolution
and passed it along to U.S. Senator John Conness. He presented a bill
which was passed and signed by President Lincoln on June 29, 1864. The
grant was given "upon the express conditions that the premises shall be
held for public use, resort and recreation shall be held inalienable for
all time."[270]
The federal government was gradually warming toward the reservation idea
in areas of little economic resistance from private interests. Even so,
there was no thought of a national park program, but a tract of federal
land had actually been made available to the general public for a
strictly non-utilitarian purpose. The general direction was visible, but
the course was not clearly charted.
Reflective visitors to Yosemite, such as Samuel Bowles, pondered a wider
application of the land grant and reservation principle. It was in 1865,
after Bowles viewed the glories of Yosemite, that he made this
statement:
The wise cession and dedication [of Yosemite] by Congress and proposed
improvement by California ... furnishes an admirable example for other
objects of natural curiosity and popular interest all over the Union.
New York should preserve for popular use both Niagara Falls and its
neighborhood, and a generous section of the famous Adirondacks, and
Maine, one of her lakes and its surrounding woods.[271]
Surely Bowles' statement disclosed a profound appreciation of a growing
need. He had found, as Dr. Hans Huth aptly says, "a formula not just for
the protection of this or that area of interest to some group or other,
but for a systematic approach to an overall system of protection of
specific features of nature throughout the nation."[272] However, one
tremendously important element was still missing from the formula. It
was simply a repetition of George Catlin's proposal of 1832, in clearer
terms to be sure, but still the all-important factor of bringing the
program under the aegis of the federal government was lacking. This
element was supplied by the Washburn-Langford-Doane party in their
memorable campfire discussion at the junction of the Firehole and Gibbon
rivers on September 19, 1870, when it was specifically proposed that the
federal government should be induced to establish a National Park.
Within less than two years the native virtue of the idea, backed by the
rugged energy of its originators and others, resulted in the passage of
the Yellowstone Park Act. Yellowstone, therefore, was the first federal
venture in the field of protection. Hence, technically speaking, it may
stand as the birthplace of the National Park Idea.[273] True, the issue
of protection and conservation had a long history, but one doesn't
actually name a baby until it is born. In this light, the Yellowstone
experience is the matrix in which the National Park Idea achieved
existence as a new American institution.
Such is the partial record of many influences that culminated in the
"Dedicatory Act" of March 1, 1872. In this chain of progress people
associated with Yellowstone played a small but significant role. They
helped translate a growing conservation movement into a fruitful
channel. A fortuitous combination of time and place reduced opposition
to a minimum. The next question would logically be: what contribution,
if any, has Yellowstone National Park made toward the development of the
present conservation program?
The creation of Yosemite and Yellowstone parks set a precedent for
democratic control of natural curiosities, including scenic forests, but
that was all. No action was then contemplated by Congress in respect to
conserving commercial timber stands. However, Congress was plagued by
petitions, and a few forward-looking legislators were endeavoring to
formulate a basis for a forest policy. The American Association for the
Advancement of Science advocated a program of tree planting, taxes to
discourage hasty timber cutting, a forestry course for farmers, and the
establishment of forest reserves. In 1873, under the guiding hand of
Franklin B. Hough, the association memorialized Congress and the state
legislatures regarding the cultivation of timber and the preservation of
forests.[274]
That same year Congress appropriated two thousand dollars for a study of
American forest and timber production. Mr. Hough directed the work and
issued a series of reports. Secretary of the Interior Carl Schurz was
sufficiently impressed by this survey to create the Department of
Forestry within his department.[275] In addition, he appointed a
forestry agent and sent him to Europe to study forest methods.
Such Fabian tactics suggest that the conservationists were not strong
enough to really come to grips with the problem. But the leaders were
alert, and in 1891 they made a notable gain by a devious maneuver. A
conference committee of the two houses was adjusting differences in a
bill that revised the general land laws. Advocates of conservation
through their leader, John W. Noble, Secretary of the Interior,
dominated the committee. It was he who suggested the inclusion of a new
section, although that was a violation of procedure, which provided
that:
The president of the U. S. may, from time to time, set apart and
reserve, in any state or territory having public land bearing forests,
any part ... whether of commercial value or not, as public
reservations, and the president shall, by public proclamation, declare
the establishment of such reservations.[276]
In that way Congress stumbled onto a plan which worked because, by
granting reserve creating power to the president, the timber lobby was
circumvented. This measure provided a definite wedge against the
compact, aggressive forces of exploitation. President Benjamin Harrison
acted promptly by creating, in 1891, the Yellowstone Timber Reserve in
Wyoming. He, thereby, created the first National Forest, and before his
term expired he set aside a total of thirteen million acres, all in the
Far West.
Another side of conservation was inaugurated in 1872 when J. Sterling
Morton of Lincoln, Nebraska, introduced a resolution for a state-wide
Arbor Day. By 1885 the idea had gained enough popular support to warrant
the establishment of Arbor Day as a legal holiday, and since then more
than half of the states have followed Nebraska's example.
However, it was a Pennsylvanian who became the most effective
conservationist of all; Gifford Pinchot was well educated, energetic,
and interested in the cause. As manager of the Vanderbilt forest
interests in North Carolina he evolved a policy of perpetual timber
yield. The indefatigable Mr. Pinchot was prepared to make a contribution
to the conservation movement on a national level, and Theodore
Roosevelt's accession to the presidency in 1901 gave him that
opportunity. President Roosevelt, also, brought much field experience to
the conservation problem. His interest was one of conviction as well as
good sense, sentiment, and politics. He viewed the presidency as a
stewardship for the nation's resources. More than anyone before or since
he dramatized this issue. As head of the forest bureau, Mr. Pinchot
became the President's strong right arm, and together they made America
acquainted with her conservation needs. A survey of national resources
disclosed the fact that of the original 800,000,000 acres of virgin
forest, less than 200,000,000 remained. Furthermore, four-fifths of this
acreage was in private hands. Mineral resources, also, had been
exploited as if inexhaustible. By propaganda, lobbies, public meetings,
and conferences, Roosevelt and Pinchot focused attention upon abuses and
neglect. Their watchword was that America's natural resources must be
administered in the interest of "the greatest good to the greatest
number--and that for the longest time."[277]
The general response to the President's Governors' Conference at the
White House in 1907, and to other conferences, was most gratifying.
Conservation agencies sprang into action on all sides. Even the National
Lumber Manufacturers' Association established new standards and
specifications for the wood-using industries. The dynamic leadership of
Theodore Roosevelt and his associates enabled the people to comprehend
the basic relationship of conservation and national welfare. Almost
everyone united in the view that a new frontier had been formed and its
conquest was to be made upon the principles and forces of conservation.
Congress had led the way toward legislative regulation, beginning with
the Yosemite Act in 1864, followed by the Yellowstone "Dedicatory Act"
of 1872. Since then one legislative pearl after another has been
collected and strung upon the fabric of the National Forest and Park
systems.
Today there are thirteen federal agencies charged with the
administration of the federal conservation laws. Consolidation of these
bureaus would undoubtedly enhance the effectiveness of the over-all
service. Besides that, there are forty-eight state agencies and, in
addition, one hundred and twenty-four organizations of either national,
state, or local character specifically dedicated to conservation.[278]
From the origin herein described, the National Forest Service has
developed until there are now 180,000,000 acres within the confines of
one hundred and fifty National Forests. The administration of these
far-flung areas is co-ordinated by twelve regional offices and other
adjunctive agencies, such as experiment stations and laboratories.
The guiding philosophy of National Forest management is known as
"multiple use." This term describes a broad program involving the
inter-relationship of wild life protection, livestock grazing, logging,
mining, irrigation watersheds, wood chopping, recreation, summer home
areas, and hunting and fishing activities. Railroads and other roads are
built in National Forests according to plan and under supervision. How
much of this esteemable policy and program has been derived from the
National Park experience? The two services have developed
simultaneously; as the boundaries of parks and forests often impinge, so
have their policies. Both services have many ends in common; each learns
from the other.[279] The essential differentiation of service lies in
the difference between "conserving an area for its greatest value" and
"utilization of resources in multiple purpose." It is a matter of
degrees of conservation according to circumstances. For example, public
hunting is prohibited in all 23,899,030 acres of the 181 areas under the
supervision of the National Park Service. However, the service itself
may adopt a policy of fauna diminution.
Having sketched the history of forest and land conservation, it would be
appropriate to similarly narrate the movement to conserve wild life.
Until a half century ago the American attitude toward wild life was
almost wholly one of indifference. The frontiersman killed a deer per
meal and gave little thought for the morrow. Only the Indians were
preservers of game, as the saying, "No Indians not much game; heap
Sioux, plenty of buffalo, elk and deer," so aptly attests.[280] It has
already been explained how this difference in racial behavior eventuated
in almost perpetual strife between white and red men. There were
occasional exceptions, as in the case of Daniel Boone. In 1775 he
proposed a measure for the protection of game in Kentucky because it was
already necessary for him to travel a score of miles from home to find
buffalo.
The pristine American wild life heritage was on a par with the endowment
of forest and land. The toothsome white-tailed deer was omnipresent in
the East and much of the Middle West. Other species of deer, elk, moose,
bison, and antelope were in great abundance. Reports from Lewis and
Clark, Zebulon Pike, J. J. Audubon, B. L. Bonneville and others prove
that no pioneer ever pushed so far, or entered regions so difficult or
remote, that he did not find a host of birds and beasts awaiting his
pleasure and profit.[281] Man has always had a predatory disposition
toward wild life, but this was not so serious in the ages of club, stone
ax, and bow and arrow. American animal abundance was contemporaneous
with these times.
Wild life conservation became an imperative issue only after the
invention of flintlock, breechloaders, repeaters, automatics, and fixed
ammunition. These weapons in the hands of commercial hunters,
unscrupulous sportsmen, and "game hogs" threatened extinction of many
species of life. Most devastating of all threats was the impact of the
market hunter; no bird, mammal, or reptile species can long withstand
such exploitation. Professional gunners who pursue creatures for money
are invariably skillful, diligent, and persistent.[282] Often the
sportsman is equally skillful and efficient in slaughter. The Earl of
Dunraven left this description of a chase in the vicinity of Fort
Laramie:
We killed elk, white-tail and black-tail deer, antelope, swans,
immense geese, ducks and small game without count. This elk running is
perfectly magnificent. We ride among the wild sand hills till we find
a herd, and then gallop after them like maniacs, cutting them off,
till we get in the midst of them, when we shoot all that we can. Our
chief hunter is a very famous man out West, one Buffalo Bill. To see
his face flush, and his eyes shoot out courage is a sight to see, and
he cheers us on till he makes us as mad as himself.[283]
Concerning the high sport of the Earl's party, Mary Kingsley made the
witty observation that "In the course of these wanderings they shot ...
every kind of living thing ... on the Western Continent ... with the
solitary exception of their fellowmen."[284] America has handled its
wild life in such a careless, greedy fashion that several species of
animal and fowl became extinct, and many others were brought within the
range of annihilation. The danger point varies with each species, but
there is an area for each wherein the survivors are too few to cope with
circumstances, and recovery is impossible. This fact became quite clear
to certain conservationists around 1900.
Outstanding leadership was provided by Madison Grant, John F. Lacey,
Henry Fairfield Osborn and Willard Dutcher.[285] These men so wrote and
spoke as to arouse the public and sting the true sportsmen into action.
People who did not shoot were impelled to call a halt on those who did,
particularly upon the lawless element. The public was assured that much
could be done to save a wonderful inheritance. In order to finance the
conservation campaign aggregate bequests in excess of one-half million
dollars were made by Albert Wilcox, Mrs. Russell Sage, Charles W. Ward,
and Mary Dutcher. President Theodore Roosevelt nourished the movement in
every way within his power. He gave the vanishing species the benefit of
every doubt. Under his direction five national parks, three bison herds,
fifty-three bird refuges, and four game preserves were established.
Warnings and appeals directed toward conservation went through all
channels, legislative, educational, practical, and sentimental. The
farmers were assured that the rejuvenated bison, deer, and elk herds
would not be allowed to roam at will over their valuable land. Rather
there were millions of acres of brushy, rocky, and semi-forest lands,
wholly unsuited for agriculture, in which the conservation work could be
done. Sportsmen were promised opportunities for shooting plentiful game
in open seasons as soon as the proper balance of wild life had been
restored. Their response to this program has become increasingly
impressive. They have effected almost innumerable associations designed
to achieve these ends. Much thought and effort have been given to the
cause, and they have contributed liberally, besides paying license fees.
Revenue from all sportsmen sources must approximate a billion dollars a
year. Hence, it is correct to say that combined sportsmen organizations
represent one of the most effective agencies of conservation.
By 1912 the movement had achieved general acceptance. The Department of
Agriculture issued annual "progress reports." Every state had either a
State Game Commission or a State Game Warden. Montana had established
two state preserves. Several states were successfully experimenting with
the introduction of new species of game birds, such as Chinese
ring-necked, golden, and silver pheasants. The federal government had
created fifty-eight bird refuges and five great game preserves. It had
taken steps to protect bison herds in four national ranges, besides
protecting the fur seal and providing hay for starving Yellowstone Park
elk and others in the Jackson Hole area.
The efforts of government agencies were effectively buttressed by a
number of private organizations such as the New York Zoological Society,
National Association of Audubon Societies, Campfire Club of America,
Boone and Crockett Club, and the American Game Protective and
Propagation Association. Since 1912 gratifying progress has been made,
although there are still many problems remaining. Yellowstone's Park
Biologist, Walter H. Kittams, and many other specialists are applying
the best modern techniques of range management and wildlife management
to effect a solution to these problems consistent with National Park
Service ideals.
It has already been noted that Yellowstone National Park has served as
an area of experimentation in the field of wild life management. When
the reservation was established in 1872 a proposal was made to outlaw
hunting. The suggestion was not heeded by Congress, and as a result
trappers and hunters plied their trades early and late, seven days a
week, month after month.
A representative description of wild life exploitation in the
Yellowstone Wonderland may be found in the Earl of Dunraven's book,
_Hunting in the Yellowstone_. This is an account of his trip through the
Park in 1874. While camped at Mammoth Hot Springs he wrote: "Some of us
went out hunting and brought in a good store of fat antelope ..."[286]
If that entry strikes a note of discord because of present practice,
observe the significance of the Earl's record in describing the
following Yellowstone camp:
In the afternoon we passed quite a patriarchal camp [near Sheepeater's
Cliff], composed of two men, with their Indian wives and several
children; half a dozen powerful savage looking dogs and about fifty
horses completed the party. They had been grazing their stock, hunting
and trapping, leading a nomad, vagabond, and delicious life--a sort of
mixed existence, half hunter, half herdsman, and had collected a great
pile of deer hides and beaver skins. They were then on their way to
settlements to dispose of their peltries, and to get stores and
provisions; for they, too, were proceeding down the river or up the
canon.[287]
Within the decade it became obvious to Park officials that the fauna
would not long survive this savage onslaught from squaw men,
professional gunners, fierce dogs, and expert scouts and guides vying
for tourist patronage. Along with this realization came another
discovery; soldiers in remote stations had formed enjoyable
companionships with wilderness creatures. These lonely men were
delighted by the universally charming wild life trait of responding with
confidence and alacrity to friendly human advances. It became
increasingly apparent to the officials that Yellowstone birds and
mammals would quickly recognize overtures of friendship and protection.
The idea was advanced that nearly every species in the Park might become
as tame as range cattle if given an opportunity to move safely within
rifle-shot for several years. Recommendations to that effect forwarded
to the Secretary of the Interior by Superintendent Norris in 1879 were
passed on to Congress, and they played an important part in the passage
of legislation on March 3, 1883, under which the killing of game was
first suppressed. In subsequent years the laws were strengthened and
administration improved. This was the beginning of wild life
conservation practice by the federal government. Since then the various
species of native fauna have achieved a generally satisfactory balance.
The Park's policy of protection can definitely be credited with saving
the grizzly bear from extinction, and the trumpeter swan is receiving
his chance to survive. It may be too late in this case.
Today the alert tourist may reap the reward of that wise and fruitful
policy in observing mountain sheep, antelope, mule deer, elk, moose,
coyotes, marmot, and squirrels as they roam around in the Park. Indeed,
the quiet but energetic visitor who ventures upon the forest trails may
even see the rare sand-hill crane and trumpeter swan. Besides, he will
frequently hear the passing whisper of the honker's wing. Actually, he
may "shoot" both birds and mammals with the camera and take home
trophies of everlasting enjoyment.
The wildlife policy of the National Park Service has evolved gradually,
and is based upon long experience in preserving areas of outstanding
significance. It has been determined that animals shall not be
encouraged to become dependent upon man, and their presentation to the
public shall be wholly natural. Every species shall be left to carry on
its struggle for existence unaided, unless it becomes endangered, and no
management measure or interference with biotic relationships shall be
undertaken prior to a properly conducted investigation. Numbers of
animals must not be permitted to exceed the carrying capacity of the
range available to them. Predator species will be given the same
protection as all other animals, except in special instances where a
prey species is in danger of extermination. These principles, and
others, control the actions taken with respect to wildlife, and assure
the continued existence of native wildlife in our National Parks.