GENERAL ADMINISTRATION
Nathaniel P. Langford was appointed Superintendent of Yellowstone
National Park on May 10, 1872. No salary was allowed, but nothing
daunted, on July 4 he arranged to join the Snake River detachment of Dr.
F. V. Hayden's second expedition. This party employed as guide one
Richard Leigh, better known as "Beaver Dick." This picturesque squaw man
and his wife, Jenny, with her brood, not only acted as scout but also as
friend and entertainer. "Beaver Dick" knew the Tetons and south
Yellowstone country like a book, and he regaled the company with many
tales of hair-raising experiences in the wilds. They were respectful in
the presence of one of the last genuine frontiersmen of the West.
The new superintendent was characteristically indefatigable in his
reconnaissance during this journey. Making personal side trips, he
climbed the Grand Teton, called on Gilman Sawtelle at Henrys Lake, and
joined Hayden in the Upper Geyser Basin by mid-August.[288] On this
expedition the reports of much petrifaction along the East Fork of
Yellowstone River (now called Lamar) were confirmed. Many trees were
found that were filled with beautiful crystals of amethyst. Several
species of trees that do not now grow in the Park were also found in a
petrified state. Among these were magnolias, sycamores, aralias, oaks,
and ferns in abundance. This, and subsequent investigations, disclosed
an interesting story of climatic change. Obviously Tertiary flora was of
a Southern type, and Yellowstone's climate in that time was comparable
to southern California's today.[289]
[Illustration: Photo by IV H. Jackson
_"Beaver Dick" (Richard Leigh) and family, 1871_]
Members of this same expedition also visited the Heart Lake and Norris
Geyser-basins.[290] Hayden and Langford were more than pleased with the
results. Wonderland's charms were still a potent draught to the thirst
of these great nature lovers. Their enthusiasm never flagged, although
there were many discouragements. Several accidents must have induced
considerable reflection, if not doubt, about the realization of their
hopes. One horse went to its doom in quagmire; another broke its neck in
a somersault. Horses sensed the inexperience and uncertainty of their
riders in this environment, and there were several stampedes.[291] This
time Langford viewed Yellowstone in the light of what the public would
require, and the task ahead must have appeared insurmountable. Still,
his good judgment told him that the Park would surely become a favorite
resort for future tourists. Plans were conceived for trails, roads, and
accommodations, and in the spring of 1873 he appointed David E. Folsom
as assistant superintendent, also without pay.
Langford's annual report of 1873 showed that five hundred people visited
the Park that season. A request was made for an appropriation of $10,000
for improvements, but no funds were provided for any purpose. As time
passed, the general situation became increasingly untenable. The
frontiersman's indifference to schedules and comforts caused much
inconvenience and dissatisfaction to the travelers. A program of
development and a system of concessions was imperative. Of course, these
things would require time, planning, and money, but this fact was little
recognized by newcomers. Langford was roundly criticized in the press
for conditions over which he had no authority or means to control.
However, during the winter he faithfully devoted his spare time to
making plans, and his full time in summer was given to their execution.
For five long years he gave the best that was in him, without funds or
support, never losing his faith in the future of Yellowstone, and
because of his enthusiasm his friends called him "National Park"
Langford.[292]
In 1877 a new superintendent succeeded Langford. Philetus W. Norris, of
Michigan, received the appointment, with pay, and the following year a
$10,000 appropriation was made available "to protect, preserve, and
improve Yellowstone Park." Norris, although a rather quaint man, proved
to be extremely zealous and energetic. On foot and horseback he
eventually toured all of the Park and its immediate environs,
considering a thorough personal exploration of Wonderland essential to a
wise administration of his office. In 1878 he discovered Monument Geyser
Basin, and later in the season an attempt was made to explore the Hoodoo
area on the upper Lamar River drainage, but the Crow Indians challenged
his right, and "Miller, Rowland, and myself, narrowly escaped."[293]
However, he persisted, and in due time the world learned about
[Illustration: _Superintendent Philetus W. Norris_]
... that mysterious Hoodoo region, where all the devils now employed
in the geysers, live and kill the wandering bear and elk, so that the
sacred hunter finds in Death Gulch piled high carcasses of the dead
whom no man has smitten.[294]
There is obvious exaggeration in Kipling's description of wild life
destruction by natural gases. However, evidence confirming the lethal
power of Yellowstone's natural carbon dioxide gas may be secured without
going into the remote Hoodoo region. Birds die almost daily from
inhaling the fumes that arise from springs on Orange Mound in the
Mammoth Hot Springs. Park naturalists are in a quandary as to the
procedure of warning birds concerning the danger.
Norris wrote voluminously and accomplished much, leaving his mark and
name upon various sections of the Park. He caused trails, roads,
bridges, and crude campgrounds to be made, in so far as the limited
funds would allow. A policy of wild life protection was also adopted. In
1880 Harry Yount was given the assignment as gamekeeper. Yount was a
typical leatherstocking frontiersman. He was rough, tough, and
intelligent. In the role of game protector he spent the winter of 1880
in the Park. He thereby became one of the first white men of record to
spend the entire year in Yellowstone.[295] Harry initiated many of the
practices of resourcefulness and traditions of good will that
characterize the ranger service, and he may be considered as its father.
The need of a game protection program was apparent from the outset.
Indian, trapper, and miner visitations had taken a heavy toll of elk,
deer, antelope, and buffalo. After 1872 tourist parties were largely
made up of, or guided by, mountain men who undertook to provide game for
the campers. Thus, a trip through Yellowstone was, in effect, a hunting
and fishing expedition, actuated by the slogan "slay and eat."
In 1876 William Ludlow, a government surveyor, was moved to write an
effective appeal for game protection to George Bird Grinnell, editor of
_Forest and Stream_. His argument was buttressed by many observations of
the slaughter "of the largest and finest game animals in the
country."[296] In 1879 Superintendent Norris made a similar observation
in his annual report. He stated that, with the rapid influx of tourists
and the demand for such food, the policy could not long continue without
serious results. He, thereupon, issued an order for the protection of
the bison as the herd was not in excess of six hundred. However, this
commendable move proved ineffective, and the hunters went merrily about
their avocation.
About this time Norris left the Park service, but before doing so he had
completed and occupied a unique structure on Capitol Hill, called Fort
Yellowstone. It was a blockhouse of hewn timber with a balcony and three
wings, surmounted by a gun turret. He wanted to be prepared for the next
Indian attack, while the problems actually confronting the Park
officials were of quite a different character. Yellowstone was still a
wilderness, and many visitors would not endure restraints. In 1883
Secretary of the Interior Hoke Smith caught two hundred trout in one
day, and the next year Secretary of War Dan Lamont only caught
fifty-three![297]
[Illustration: Old Fort Yellowstone.]
In 1882 Patrick A. Conger, of Iowa, succeeded Norris as superintendent.
His administration was weak and vacillating in practically every
respect. Scarcely anything was improved, but all difficulties were
aggravated. Vandalism, forest fires, and general mismanagement were
added to the problem of vanishing wild life. John S. Crosby, Governor of
Montana, wrote a scathing denunciation of the Park officials to the
Secretary of the Interior, Henry M. Teller.[298] This official
contemplated the leasing of considerable portions of the Park to
responsible persons in the hope that they would, through self-interest,
give the protection which the government had failed to provide.[299]
While Montana's governor complained and the Secretary hesitated Wyoming
territorial officials took action. The Wyoming legislature intervened by
providing stringent measures for the protection of timber, game, fish,
and natural curiosities of the Park. A jail was erected, and the
territorial officials got ready for business. Cowboy type-cast officers
had a lively time enforcing regulations and levying fines for personal
emolument upon strangers toward whom they felt a natural suspicion.[300]
Vexatious arrests, made under the sweeping provisions of the act,
defeated the purpose of the Park "as a pleasuring ground for the
people." Citizens questioned the right of a territory to exercise
criminal jurisdiction and judicial powers in a federal reservation. The
act was repealed in 1886, but the effect was to leave the Park in a
worse plight than ever before. As it became generally known that the
superintendent had no support beyond the rules of the department and
their own personal force,
the rules and regulations were ignored, while outlaws and vagabonds
from the surrounding region made the nation's pleasure ground a place
of refuge. The hotels were frequented by gamblers and adventurers, who
preyed upon the unwary tourist, while forest fires, originating
mysteriously in remote and inaccessible places, raged unchecked.[301]
Robert E. Carpenter took office as Park Superintendent in August, 1884.
In his view the Park presented an opportunity for personal and corporate
exploitation. He was in full accord with a conspiracy to obtain private
ownership of strategic locations. This scheme was advanced by an
organization known as The Improvement Company which went directly before
Congress with its proposition. In this effort, the nadir of private
greed and administrative indifference was reached. However, the bad
cause was lost, the superintendent removed, and a new and better
administration came into being.[302] The influence of General Phil
Sheridan was a constant factor in promoting the welfare of the Park.
Beginning in 1881, he made a series of annual tours of the region. After
each inspection he earnestly appealed to public sentiment, in behalf of
proper government, for the area. Whereupon, Congress passed the Sundry
Civil Bill of March, 1883 which forbade the granting of leases in excess
of ten acres to a single party and provided for the employment of ten
assistant superintendents. This measure also authorized the Secretary of
the Interior to call upon the Secretary of War for troops to patrol the
Park.
In May, 1885 David W. Wear of Missouri brought intelligent and vigorous
effort to the problem. At the close of the season he wrote a
comprehensive report that carried a tone of real interest and purpose:
"The discipline of the force was bad; no head to anything.... The game
had been shot with impunity and marketed at the hotels."[303] He secured
the services of a trusty mountaineer, and together they rounded up the
worst of the "skin hunters" and punished them to the full extent of the
law. Of course, that was simply arrest and expulsion from the Park,
together with the forfeiture of equipment used in the violation.
During the season of 1885 a committee of congressmen visited the Park
for the purpose of ascertaining how wisely the recent appropriation of
$40,000 was being used and inquiring into the administration of
laws.[304] The report of this and other investigating groups seemed to
be that, although Superintendent Wear was performing his duty
efficiently and fearlessly, the whole situation was honeycombed with
error, corruption, confusion, and suspicion. The Park was in need of
redemption; something had to be done. The high purposes of the
Dedicatory Act were being frustrated. An avalanche of petitions,
representing opinion from thirty-one states, reached the Department of
the Interior and could not be ignored.
Therefore, the Department of the Interior called upon the United States
Army to effect a new birth. This action was taken under the authority of
the act of March 3, 1883, wherein the Secretary of War, upon the request
of the Secretary of the Interior, was directed to provide:
Details of troops to prevent trespassers or intruders from entering
the Park for the purpose of destroying the game or objects of
curiosity therein, or for any other purpose prohibited by law, and to
remove such persons from the Park if found therein.[305]
Accordingly, on August 20, 1886, Captain Moses Harris with a troop of
the first cavalry took charge. Detachments of soldiers were soon
stationed at Norris, Lower and Upper Geyser basins, Canyon, Riverside,
and Soda Butte. Old frontiersmen were notified to desist from their
poaching activities; prowling Indians were ordered to stay away; forest
fires were checked; and the tone of all departments of service and
accommodation improved. The Hayes and Lacey acts granted the necessary
authority in respect to leases, protection, and punishment. Captain
Harris proved to be a forthright administrator. He established a system
of patrols stemming out from the permanent stations. The patrolmen were
instructed to not only follow the regular roads and trails but to
occasionally visit unfrequented places.[306] The patrolmen were ordered
to keep a sharp lookout for bear trappers, poachers, and forest fires.
Persons traveling in the Park between October 1 and June 1 were to be
viewed with suspicion: in fact, they were to be questioned closely and
watched as they journeyed from station to station.
There were many frontiersmen who continued to ignore the Captain's
warnings about poaching. This challenge was accepted, and on August 19,
1888 a scouting party apprehended a trapper near the southern border. He
gave his name as Andrew S. Page but later admitted he had been arrested
the previous year as John Andrews. His horse and outfit were
confiscated, and he was expelled from the Park.[307] In September of the
same year Thomas Garfield was caught in the act of trapping beaver in
Willow Creek. He was given the same treatment. Garfield made ominous
threats to get even, and a few days later a forest fire was started by
someone near Norris. In spite of occasional arrests the practice of
poaching persisted. Trapping habits were deep-seated and penalties, too
mild.
In the years that followed the cases of Tom Newcomb, June Buzzel, Jay
Whitman, James Courtney, A. G. Vance, E. Sheffeld, Pendleton, and Van
Dych were tried with various degrees of success.[308]
The most notorious case was that of Ed Howell of Cooke, Montana. Early
in March, 1894, a party was organized to visit the winter range of the
buffalo. Members were Captain George L. Scott, Lieutenant William W.
Forsyth, Scout Felix Burgess, A. E. Burns, Frank Jay Haynes, Sergeant
Troike, and two other noncommissioned officers. They traveled on skis,
and when they reached the Canyon, Emerson Hough and Billy Hofer joined
them. About twelve miles up Pelican Creek they discovered the cache of a
poacher. Six bison heads were suspended in a tree. Several shots were
heard, but as it was snowing the direction was difficult to determine.
However, Scout Burgess was able to approach the poacher without being
seen or heard, even by the dog. He got the drop on Howell, which was a
good thing in view of the character of the man.[309] He had driven a
half-dozen other bison in the deep snow and killed them.
The culprit was taken to Mammoth where the presence of the writer
Emerson Hough and a representative of _Forest and Stream_ gave national
publicity to the case. Howell was quite a robust personality, and he
responded to the limelight. "How does a poacher operate to avoid two
troops of soldiers?" "It is the simplest thing in the world," said
Howell, "just wait for a snowstorm, enter the desired area, make a wide
detour to check tracks of pursuers, if any, and go to work." "Why did
you do it?" "Well, bison heads are worth from $100 to $400 apiece."[310]
The articles in _Forest and Stream_ apprised the nation of the fact that
there were less than one hundred head of bison left in the Park and that
the government's failure to provide real protection was threatening the
extinction of all the larger animals. One side of the reaction was
critical of the army administration. Said one observer, "I would rather
have three good, intelligent, honorable men, inured to the life of
prospector and hunter, in these mountains to watch the Park, than all
the soldiers now there...."[311]
However, a constructive remedy was provided by legislation in the
passage of the act of May 7, 1894. This measure positively prohibited
hunting and trapping in every form, under heavy penalties. A clear-cut
basis of jurisdiction was provided by the Vest Bill. A United States
Commissioner was appointed, "who shall reside in the Park," to issue
processes and hear cases. An appeal from his decisions might be made
before the Federal District Court for the District of Wyoming. Hon. John
W. Meldrum was the first man to receive this assignment. He held the
position until 1935 when he was succeeded by T. Paul Wilcox.
Within a year after the passage of the Protective Act, Captain George S.
Anderson was able to report that a healthy effect was evident. That was
not the end of poaching because it has existed in a slight and subtle
manner to this very day. However, around the turn of the century, the
poacher gave way to the road agent as the Park's most exciting criminal.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Poacher caught in the act.]
In Captain Harris' report of 1888 there is reference to a stage robbery
of July 4, 1887. Subsequently, William James and a man named
Higgenbottom were convicted and fined $1000 each and given a year's
sentence in the Montana State Penitentiary. Again, on August 14, 1897,
two masked men held up and robbed six Yellowstone Park Transportation
coaches and one spring wagon. The place of the robbery was between
Canyon and Norris, the amount of the "haul" being over $500. These
offenders were apprehended and identified as Charles Reebe, alias
"Morphine Charley," and Charles Switzer. They were also convicted,
fined, and imprisoned.[312]
On August 24, 1908, on Spring Creek, one masked man successfully held up
nine coaches carrying a total of one hundred and fifteen people. The
booty collected totaled $1,363.95 in cash and $730.25 in watches and
jewelry. The entire cavalcade consisted of thirty-two coaches, escorted
by one trooper. The road agent did not show himself until the soldier
and eight of the coaches had passed. Thereafter, each one was held up
and ordered on its way before the next one arrived. The victims of this
outrage held a meeting in the Lake Hotel and drafted a set of
resolutions reviewing all of the facts. They complained because they
were deprived of personal firearms and denied sufficient protection to
life and property. They also petitioned for redress. These resolutions,
together with the names of the victims, were printed in a souvenir
edition and widely distributed.[313]
Perhaps the most daring robbery in Yellowstone history was executed near
Shoshone Point, on July 29, 1915. It was there that Edward B. Trafton,
alias Ed Harrington, an outlaw from Teton Basin, duplicated the feat of
the 1908 season; the amount taken was about $2200. However, Trafton was
apprehended and convicted of the latter crime on December 15, 1915. His
sentence was a five-year term in Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.
Robberies of a less dramatic character still occur. In 1941 two rangers
fished several purses out of Cauliflower Geyser. They had been snatched
from parked cars, rifled, and cast away, but the geyser threw them up,
and they were used as evidence in effecting a conviction. Times and
methods change, but crime goes on forever.
Another problem that has constantly confronted every administration is
vandalism. A vandal is any person who takes flowers or specimens and
writes on or defaces natural objects, and his name is legion. The more
cunningly contrived a work of nature becomes, the greater the temptation
to remove it to one's own premises. This urge reduces even dignified
people to the most amazing behavior. They will pry and chop in such a
way as to destroy an ornament for all time. Again, there is the untoward
desire to throw tokens, small coins, bottles, poles, and detritus into
pools and geysers "just to see what will happen."
Not even Old Faithful is exempt from this wantonness. It is a matter of
record that one party, wishing to experiment, filled its orifice "with
at least a thousand pounds of stones, trees, and stumps" and then sat
down to await further developments. Another group wrote this shameless
account: "We abused that spring [geyser] with everything in our power.
We threw sticks into it and stones, but it was no use; nothing would
rile it."[314] Name writing in pools and geysers is particularly
alluring to a certain class as nature fixes the insult indelibly so that
in after years all men may read, in letters as large as a neon sign,
that "Sadie, Mamie, and Jack" visited the Park. Many a ranger,
attempting to eradicate such legends with his wire brush, has heartily
agreed with the following statement "... and when the man from Oshkosh
writes his name with a blue pencil on her sacred face, let him spend six
months where the scenery is circumscribed and entirely artificial."[315]
Will the public never learn that, although it owns the Park, ownership
may be expressed in much more appropriate ways?
The offense of "soaping" geysers is said to have originated in 1885 when
a Chinaman encompassed a small spring with his tent and started a
laundry. When the spring became impregnated with soap there was an
eruption, and up went tent, washing, and Chinaman! It is a fact that
soap produces viscosity which retains heat, and as steam rises it may
aid explosive action. Hence, if some visitors could have their way, the
beautiful sapphire springs and geysers would be "in the suds" constantly
throughout the season.[316] Such activity is strictly prohibited by the
government.
In recent years Park officials have been greatly distressed by another
type of violation. Large numbers of people are disposed to cast tax
tokens and pennies into the otherwise beautiful hot springs and geysers.
Familiar with wishing wells in commercial resorts, they fall short in
adjusting to national park standards of conduct. As one ranger said,
"They forget what kind of animal throws a (s)cent!"
Many lovers of Yellowstone would like to see the rangers crack down upon
rule violators with a vengeance. They argue that a full 10 per cent of
the human race will lie, steal, and destroy flora, fauna, and features
whenever and wherever they find a chance to do so. Of course, the
rangers are quick in recognizing varying degrees of moral and social
responsibility. Their policy to date is one of energetic education and
moderate restraint by authority.
The problem of forest fires causes much concern during July and August.
Fires may start from natural causes, as from lightning, and friction
caused by trees rubbing together during violent windstorms, but about 50
per cent of them are caused by the carelessness of man. Of course,
nature manages to extinguish forest fires eventually, but man has
learned to cooperate.
The officials have developed efficiency in organization and methods of
fighting fires. Major lookouts are established upon Mt. Washburn, Mt.
Holmes, Mt. Sheridan, Purple Mountain, and Pelican Cone. Lookouts also
stand guard in other strategic positions. Fireguards are employed to
clear trails and be available on a moment's notice. District rangers
train and direct employees within their jurisdictions and take daily
"fire weather" readings. Tools, equipment, and provisions are always
packed and ready for action. When a fire breaks out a base camp is set
up at a road terminal; from there the flow of men and supplies is
governed through radio communication. Fire camps are established in safe
places, by the water supply nearest the burning area. Tools, sleeping
bags, and food reach the fire camp on the backs of mules, by reason of
the skill of expert packers. However, airplanes are sometimes used in
parachuting fighters and supplies to the spot in a hurry.
Accepted principles of procedure consist of: speed in the first instance
before the fire "blows up"; striking hard at daybreak after it has
calmed down and before the wind fans it; cutting a line with saw and ax;
trenching it in with shovel and Pulaski; using pumps where possible; and
always praying for rain. Fighting fire is an arduous, dirty business.
Yellowstone forests are predominantly of lodgepole pine. This species is
thin-skinned and non-resistant to fire, but it takes pains to store its
seeds up in tightly closed cones. These hold the seed fertile for
several years. Thus, although raging fire may devour the forest, the
scorched cones open, and the hoarded seed shoots new growth triumphantly
out of the ashes.[317]
It has been observed that lodgepole forests are not very valuable for
lumber; neither do they present the most attractive appearance. Still,
the trees grow profusely, and in so doing they provide an excellent
agency for water conservation. Let fire destroy the forests upon the
sources of the Snake and Yellowstone rivers, and many of the present
garden spots of the West would be added to her barren wastes. Therefore,
in the mature opinion of many experts, the forests of this area are more
valuable in the conservation of soil and water than they would be for
grazing and lumbering. The present policy will keep the mountains at
home, prevent floods, and assure a more constant water supply.[318]
Perhaps the most tantalizing problem has arisen from the half-century
application of the Protective Act of 1894, wherein:
The killing, wounding, or capturing, at any time, of any bird or wild
animal, except dangerous animals, when it is necessary to prevent them
from destroying life or inflicting an injury, is prohibited within the
limits of the Park.[319]
[Illustration: Wild and dangerous despite appearances.]
People possessing firearms must have them sealed upon entering the Park.
Thus, the animal inhabitants virtually enjoy a natural life expectancy
so far as man is concerned.[320] It is an anomalous situation, without a
parallel since the Garden of Eden. On the whole, the animals have lost
their fear of man, and still very few of them show any disposition to
injure him except in self-defense. Deer, black bear, marmot, squirrels,
and many species of birds are very responsive to opportunities of human
association. Several other types exhibit good-natured indulgence toward
human curiosity, but a few species are so elusive as to be almost
inaccessible. In fact, there are some creatures that possess such a
decided allergy to the presence of man that their survival is
jeopardized by human proximity. Moose, grizzlies, bighorn, antelope,
beaver, and swan conform to this type. They require an environment of
varying specifications from swamp to rocky crag, but possessing the
element of seclusion as a common denominator. Park officials recognize
these factors and endeavor to meet the requirements for the health of
their denizens. Furthermore, they are willing to allow the so-called
predators the use of the Park as a sanctuary, or refuge, even though
their instincts seem to be of a wholly destructive character. The latch
key is out for wolverine, coyote, and cougar.
It should be emphasized that in the case of black bear human contacts
are fraught with dire consequences for all concerned. Approximately a
hundred tourists sustain bear bites or scratches each season, and many
bears are killed for these offenses. Park officials frequently doubt the
possibility of reconciling the presence of black bear and people. If the
latter were governed by the principle of intelligence, it would be an
easy matter. But they simply refuse to believe that the bears are wild.
As a result, they take privileges with a mother and cubs which no one
would ever think of trying with a neighbor's hound.
It is admitted by all that black bear cubs are among nature's most
interesting creatures. They are the "Happy Hooligans" and "Katzenjammer
Kids" of the Park. What a spectacle they provide, standing Jesse
James-like along the highway, tumbling over each other in fun, or
scampering up a tree in fright! "Do you mean to tell me those cute
creatures will harm anyone?" says a lady, "Why they smile and wiggle
their tails in the most cunning manner!" "Yes, lady," replies the
ranger, "but you must not believe either end of a bear."
When a serious injury or a death occurs strong resentment is expressed
against the administration. It is advised to decide either to turn the
Park over to the bears or to the people. Then a party of tourists
expresses great disappointment over not having been "held up" by a bear.
What will be the outcome of this tug-of-war? It is to be hoped that the
public will eventually learn to obey the regulation, "Do Not Feed or
Molest the Bears."[321]
[Illustration: Grizzly, king of the Rockies.]
The American bison was probably saved from extinction in Yellowstone.
Although native to the region, the joint ravages of poachers and
septicemia finally reduced the herd to a mere remnant. In 1895 a hay
harvesting project was started in Hayden Valley. This enterprise was
subsequently moved to the Lamar Valley where a buffalo ranch, now called
the Lamar Unit, was established. Feeding these animals in the coldest
months during winters of exceptional severity has proved salutary.
Another precaution was taken in 1902 when twenty-one head were purchased
from the Goodnight and Allard herds in Texas and Montana, respectively.
Since then the herd has flourished and is now stabilized at eight
hundred head. The increase is reduced periodically and distributed among
near-by Indian agencies.
A reduction policy has also been adopted to control the northern elk
herd. Summer is lavish in its gifts to Park elk. Lush grasses, shady
dells, and cool weather make an ideal condition for them. Fall finds
them fat and sleek, with bulls bugling in every glen. Perhaps the summer
range is adequate for thousands of them, but then winter comes, with its
weakening cold and deepening snows, and they are forced by storms into
restricted areas where hunger stalks them on every side. It is evident,
therefore, that the maximum must be limited by the winter range
capacity. In view of these conditions the officials of the Park and the
state of Montana have worked out a satisfactory policy of diminution. A
number of elk-hunting permits are issued to citizens who foregather
along the northern boundary to participate in a bombardment that is
swift and effective. In this manner the Park herd is kept in balance,
and surplus elk do not migrate to the valleys to bother the ranchers. Of
course an advantage accrues to these hunters because each one is very
sure of getting his elk. This program should preclude a repetition of
the agitation aroused during World War I when proposals were pressed
upon the Food Administrator to allow hunting parties a free reign in
securing Park elk and buffalo.[322]
More serious attempts to invade the Park's wilderness area came in the
form of several irrigation projects, a railroad, and the northern
boundary segregation issue. Each of these propositions, which threatened
to modify the natural character and unity of the reservation, was
strenuously resisted by Park administrations and the public generally.
In 1919 an irrigation project was sponsored by Idaho interests. It was a
comprehensive plan that contemplated a dam on Yellowstone River, thereby
raising the level of Yellowstone Lake. The water from this mighty
reservoir would then be tapped by a tunnel through the Continental
Divide, which would deliver the water into the Snake River. Other dams
were designed to impound water along Fall and Bechler rivers. When bills
S3925 and H.R.10469 reached their respective floors they were subjected
to strong denunciation and defeated.[323] The next year, 1920, Senator
Walsh, of Montana, also introduced a bill for the purpose of building a
dam across the Yellowstone River at the lake outlet. This project also
contemplated the generation of electricity. Extensive hearings before
the Senate Committee on Irrigation resulted in the bill's death at that
stage.
The movement for the extension of the Northern Pacific Railroad from
Cinnabar to Cooke City, Montana, was not so easily arrested. From the
first discovery of gold on Clarks Fork, in 1870, there had been a
campaign for a railroad, as the early prospects were promising. However,
little progress was made, and when the railroad bill of 1894 was
defeated certain mining interests in Montana became alarmingly hostile.
Frustrated in the extension of a line through the only accessible route,
because of National Park sentiment, these interests came out for
segregation. On March 1, 1894, the _Helena Independent_ declared:
Congress should make the Yellowstone River [Lamar] and Soda Butte
Creek the northern boundary of the Park and charter a railroad to
Cooke City on the north of these Streams....[324]
The _Livingston Post_ struck a more ominous note in its issue of
November 30 of the same year:
Everybody concedes that the destruction of the Park by fire would be a
public, a national calamity, and about the only way to avert such an
impending danger is for Congress to grant the reasonable request of
the people of the West by passing the segregation bill.[325]
In his report of 1895 Captain George S. Anderson, Acting Superintendent,
quietly exulted, "It is a pleasure to note that the various bills for
the segregation of the Park were killed in the last Congress."[326] This
official was anything but popular in Montana at that time. Thus, it
would appear that Yellowstone, like nearly every national institution,
has been at the crossroads of conflicting interests, and its present
status has not been achieved without vigilance.
Throughout the years the reports of the army superintendents conformed
to a regular pattern about travel, roads, concessions, wild animals,
fish, protection of natural phenomena, accommodations, fires,
sanitation, violations, and recommendations. Whether captains, majors,
colonels, or generals, these army men performed commendable service.
Still, it was an army regime dealing with a civilian situation. Hence,
there were some incongruities and many deficiencies.
What were the facts relative to the army administration in Yellowstone?
Did conditions warrant a change? The circumstances responsible for the
assignment in 1884 have been given. Two troops of cavalry comprised the
normal complement. A main base, called Camp Sheridan, was established in
Mammoth, and a series of stations were located at the principal points
of interest. At these posts detachments of soldiers acted as guardians
of their respective domains. From each station daily mounted patrols
started toward other posts on either flank until they met.[327] In that
manner, two hundred miles of forest road were observed between each dawn
and dusk as the soldiers made their tours from "Slough Creek to Bison
Peak, Grizzly Lake to Hellroaring Creek, and Canyon to Wedded Trees" ...
almost ad infinitum.
Each soldier carried a bucket and shovel as defense against fire and a
little book of _Rules, Regulations and Instructions_, called the
"bible," to prepare him for any contingency. Among his routine
instructions these orders appear: "... kill mountain lions, coyotes and
timber wolves ... permit no cats and dogs ... keep pack trains off the
road when vehicles are passing ... allow no one to approach within one
hundred yards of bears...."
Each patrolman was required to record his daily activities in a journal
and turn it over to his commanding officer. A perusal of these journal
records is, on the whole, rather dull. The reading is not equal to the
performance because spelling and diction were not among the soldiers'
qualifications for duty. Still, there are occasions when, although "the
letter killeth, the spirit giveth life." Incidents dealing with clues
leading to the arrest of poachers and road agents, seizure of vandals,
searches for lost persons, rescues of people treed by grizzlies and
moose, or breakdowns, tip-overs, and runaways fairly shine with the
excitement of the time.[328]
The soldiers had the finest western horses:
Our horses are good all-around animals, good jumpers, runners and
drillers. Each horse understands the trumpet calls.... If the army
mules are with the herd, the horses feel safe, for as soon as a bear
or deer appears, they make a dash for them, and when the game sees
those mules, with ears laid back, coming on a dead run, it always
makes tracks for the woods.[329]
The soldier's uniform consisted of a dark blue blouse and light blue
trousers, unstrapped and cut spoonshape over the boot, cartridge belt,
revolver, peaked cap, and worsted gloves with black buttons. These boys,
like soldiers generally, were partial to their uniforms and dress parade
assignments. Fire fighting and trail clearing were onerous indeed, and
while "a little road making on service is not a bad thing, continuous
navying is enough to knock the heart out of any army."[330]
The army's public relations seemed to have been very satisfactory. The
soldiers were uniformly friendly and helpful toward the tourists. John
Muir considered it a "pleasing contrast to the ever changing management
of blundering, plundering politicians.... The soldiers do their duty so
quietly that the traveler is scarce aware of their presence."[331]
Tourists called the soldiers "Swatties"; an English term in popular use
at that time.
One Charles D. Warner, of New York City, was also led to rejoice that
there was at least one spot in the United States where law was promptly
enforced. He considered the military administration an object lesson for
the whole nation in point of efficiency and impartiality.[332] Opposite
reactions came from nearly all who ran afoul the law.
Perhaps the greatest weakness in the army regime was in the educational
inadequacy of its personnel. About 1910 a difference in tourist
interests was obvious. People, generally, began to inquire into the
causes and effects of the natural phenomena. It became increasingly
apparent that an effective public stewardship required knowledge of
chemistry, botany, geology, zoology, and history. The reign of the "cock
and bull" type of story was drawing to an end. The era of greater
natural history interpretation and appreciation was dawning. Unless
something could be done to educate the Park's guardians a considerable
educational opportunity would be lost, not to mention the loss of
scientific solution of forest problems in general.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Cavalry Troops in Park Patrol.]
This need is clearly reflected in Captain Anderson's report concerning
geysers:
I find there is a general belief in the minds of the tourists that
there is some measure of regularity in the period of eruptions of most
if not all of the geysers. At various times during the last three
years I have had records made by the guards of the observed eruptions.
Of course, these do not include all of the geysers, nor have all of
the eruptions of any one of them been noted. I enclose for publication
as an appendix to this report, a table made of observation upon them
during the past three years. A casual inspection of it reveals the
fact that none but Old Faithful has the slightest pretense to
regularity.[333]
A rhythmic regularity was there all right, but, strangely enough, it
required the careful observation of the casual scientist to discover a
fact which entirely escaped the more permanent, but less observant,
soldiers. In 1926 the Geophysical Laboratory of the Carnegie Institution
directed Dr. Eugene T. Allen and Dr. Arthur L. Day to make an exhaustive
study of Yellowstone's thermal features. After seven seasons of
research, in cooperation with the National Park Service, they were able
to publish a monumental treatise on this subject.[334] Later
observations by such naturalists as George Marler, W. Verde Watson, and
Herbert Lystrup not only confirmed the principle of rhythmic recurrence
in many cases but discovered behavior patterns that enabled rangers to
forecast a given eruption with uncanny accuracy.
Factors of this character were in the mind of Secretary of the Interior
Franklin K. Lane in 1915 when he appointed Stephen T. Mather as his
assistant. Mr. Mather's portfolio particularly related to the
formulation of an integrated National Park policy.