in its original position in the center of the village court, and the
interior of this surprisingly large building furnishes an index of the
architectural advancement of these supposedly savage people. In this
lodge tribal ceremonies were held, and the site doubtless witnessed
many enactments of the most holy Mandan religious service, in which
the young men of the tribe were inducted into manhood with bloody and
gruesome torture rites.
Right of the highway, almost opposite the entrance to the village,
the restored and graveled military road branches steeply upward to
where FORT McKEEN commands a far view of the plains and the twisting
Missouri. Although Bismarck, the two bridges across the river, and
many other marks of settlement are now part of the scene, the entire
view from this point was one wild, untouched, verdant picture when
Army engineers came from Fort Rice in 1872 in search of a location for
an infantry post to protect the surveyors, engineers, and workmen who
prepared the way for the gleaming intrusion of the Northern Pacific
rails. This site was selected, as the Mandan 200 years before had
selected the one below, for its natural protection. The fort was built
in 1872, and was named for Col. Henry Boyd McKeen of the Eighty-first
Pennsylvania Volunteers, but on November 19, 1872, the name was
officially changed to Fort Abraham Lincoln in honor of the martyred
President. A triangular area was fortified, with a blockhouse at each
corner and palisade walls connecting them on two sides. The steep face
of the bluff protected the remaining side. Within the stockade were
officers' quarters, barracks, kitchens, hospital, and laundry. The
scouts' headquarters and the laundry were built of cottonwood logs cut
along the river, while most of the other buildings were of lumber.
The soldiers stationed at the fort led a varied life, the monotony of
frontier existence being tempered by fighting the Sioux, maintaining
order among the lawless element which followed the progress of the
railroad, and even building smudges to protect the workers from the
tormenting swarms of bloodthirsty mosquitoes.
The three blockhouses and the palisade have been restored, so that the
fort looks much as it must have looked more than 50 years ago when it
crowned this bluff, guarding its prominent position on the river. None
of the buildings within the enclosure is left, but the sites of all are
marked.
To avoid confusion, the restored fort is commonly referred to as Fort
McKeen, distinguishing it from the later Fort Abraham Lincoln, although
the latter included both posts. The FORT ABRAHAM LINCOLN SITE is right
of the park road just south of the Indian village. Markers indicate the
sites of the various structures, and holes partly filled with debris
also show where the buildings of the Northwest's strongest fortress
once stood. A row of cottonwoods, which grew along Officers' Row,
stands in lonesome splendor.
When Gen. George A. Custer and his spirited Seventh Cavalry came to
Fort Abraham Lincoln in 1873 it became a nine-company cavalry and
infantry post, with the cavalry established on the level plain below,
where a good drill and parade ground was available. Custer, with his
long sandy-colored hair and restless vivacity, was one of the most
personable and interesting military men of his time. He and his wife,
a young and talented woman, soon drew about themselves a social circle
that was widely known and aspired to. Balls, musicales, and other
entertainments drew people from the surrounding territory, including
the new town of Bismarck across the river. The social life at Fort
Abraham Lincoln would have been a credit to any city, as, beneath
crystal chandeliers, to the music of the Seventh's band, stately
couples moved in the graceful figures of the dance.
For the soldiers, life consisted chiefly of maintaining order among the
Indians and the incoming white population. At one time the guardhouse
at the fort had a distinguished occupant, Rain-in-the-Face, the Sioux
warrior. He had been heard boasting of "counting coup" on the bodies
of two white men killed on the Stanley expedition in 1873, and Tom
Custer, brother of General Custer, was sent to take him into custody
at Standing Rock Agency (_see Side Tour 8C_). Rain-in-the-Face was
arrested and imprisoned at Fort Abraham Lincoln, but escaped in a
jailbreak engineered by friends of some of the other prisoners, and
joined Sitting Bull.
Life at the post often grew monotonous for the troopers, who in winter
found their activities hampered by the severe cold, and in the summer
suffered from the torments of the heat and the mosquitoes.
When the routine of military life palled too greatly on the soldiers,
they took refuge in the activities of the Point, a little settlement
of dance halls, saloons, and similar places of entertainment, that
flourished on the opposite bank of the river directly across from the
fort. Since there was no bridge across the Missouri the Point could
be reached only by ferry or on the ice. At the time of the spring
break-up, however, even the ferry could not be used, and many of the
soldiers missed the customary recreational and liquid facilities
afforded by the Point. One spring, as the ice was going out, a young
man, whose fine physique was equalled only by his foolhardy daring,
offered to cross the river for some liquor. Crossing a river on
breaking ice has been known as a daring feat since even before the
days of Eliza and the bloodhounds, but crossing the Missouri is a
particularly hazardous exploit, for this river, always maliciously
menacing, is even more so in the spring, with great ice blocks eddying
and whirling, crunching violently together, then flung apart by the
swift current. The slightest misstep or miscalculation meant death to
the young, thirsty soldier, but with the greatest nonchalance he made
the crossing and the return, bringing his precious burden back with
him, and great and twofold was the rejoicing when he safely reached the
home shore.
Three years of existence left Fort Abraham Lincoln in comparative
quiet, with only an occasional Indian skirmish. Then events on the
frontier conspired to bring the Indian troubles to an end. The campaign
of the Little Big Horn was planned (_see_ HISTORY). One day in 1876 the
Seventh, with bands playing and colors flying, marched away along the
Heart in pursuit of the Sioux. On a stifling night early in July the
residents of Bismarck were awakened from their sleep by loud sounds
of shouting, of wagons and horses moving, at the river. Capt. Grant
Marsh had arrived from the Little Big Horn with his steamer, the _Far
West_, loaded with the wounded of Major Reno's command, survivors of
the Battle of the Little Big Horn. But more than the wounded, he bore
news--news of the death of 267 men, of the annihilation of Custer and
his immediate command. Twenty-six of the waiting wives at Fort Abraham
Lincoln were widows.
The only living thing left of Custer's command was Comanche, Capt.
Myles Keogh's horse. Through the rough country filled with hostile,
victorious Sioux, Reno's wounded men had been carried to the _Far
West_, and Captain Marsh had made his epic 54-hour run to Bismarck and
the fort 700 miles away.
[Illustration:
A RED
RIVER VALLEY
WHEATFIELD]
[Illustration:
OATS]
Captain Marsh's story of how he learned of the Custer tragedy is
strange, and almost unreal. He related later that, as he waited on
the river for word from the military commanders, a Crow Indian peered
from the brush along the shore and signed that he wished to board the
boat. On deck the Indian, unable to speak a word of English, squatted
and began to make signs. He drew a group of dots, designated them with
the Crow word for "white men." Then he showed a circle of dots around
the white men, and for them spoke the word for "Sioux." And then, with
a sweep of his hand, he wiped out the inner group of dots. In this
simple, abrupt manner, Marsh related, the tragedy was first told to the
world.
The story of Custer's annihilation was put on the telegraph wires by
Col. C. A. Lounsberry. James W. Foley, North Dakota poet laureate, has
commented: "It was, for stark tragedy, horror and surprise, perhaps the
greatest news story ever flashed over a telegraph wire to a stunned and
stricken country, in the history of the United States."
The Little Big Horn disaster was the beginning of the end of the era
of Indian fighting in this region, and troops were withdrawn from Fort
Abraham Lincoln in 1891, after which the buildings were carried off
piecemeal by the settlers in the vicinity. A new infantry post, known
as Fort Lincoln, was later established across the river (_see Tour 8_).
Fort Abraham Lincoln State Park is being developed for recreational and
historical purposes by the Federal Government in cooperation with the
State historical society. The grounds are being landscaped, foot trails
laid out, and picnic shelters built. Under construction between the
Indian village and the Fort Lincoln site is a museum which will house
some archeological material being unearthed on the sites of the old
earth lodges and historical material dealing with Fort McKeen and Fort
Abraham Lincoln.
ROOSEVELT REGIONAL STATE PARKS
=Season:= Open year round. June to September most favorable period.
=Tourist Information:= State Historical Society of North Dakota,
Liberty Memorial Building, Bismarck, N. Dak.
=Admission:= Free.
=Transportation:=
_North Park._ Entrances: E. entrance, US 85 (_see Tour 4_); N.
entrance--less desirable--dirt road from Arnegard (_see Tour 4_).
Branch of Great Northern Ry., Fairview, Mont., to Watford City;
Carpenter Bus Line from Williston.
Roads: 14 m. gravel and scoria highway; 10 m. horse or hike trail.
No guide service.
_South Park._ Entrances: E. entrance, W. entrance, US 10 (_see Tour
8_). Main line Northern Pacific Ry. and Northland Greyhound Bus
Line to Medora (_see Tour 8_).
Roads: 10 m. gravel and scoria highway; 10 m. graveled truck trail;
5 m. horse or hike trail.
Guide service: Buddy Ranch, 1.5 m. E. of Medora on US 10.
=Accommodations:=
_North Park._ Hotel accommodations at Watford City (_see Tour 4_);
camping and trailer facilities at Squaw Creek Picnic Area (_see
North Roosevelt Regional State Park Tour below_).
_South Park._ Hotel accommodations at Medora (_see Tour 8_).
Camping and trailer facilities at camping area in park (_see South
Roosevelt Regional State Park Tour below_).
Meals, cabins, and horses at Buddy Ranch, 1.5 m. E. of Medora.
Horse rates for resident guest, $1.50 per day, guide provided with
party of 5; for nonresident guest, $1.50 for one-half day, $2.50
per day, guide provided with party of 5.
=Climate, clothing, and equipment:= Summer tourists should prepare
for hot days and cool evenings and for sudden rain or dust storms.
Those who expect to tramp in the Badlands should dress for walking
through brush and soft, clayey soil. Breeches and high-top boots
are in order, the latter serving the additional purpose of
protection against snake bite.
=Medical service:=
_North Park._ Watford City (_see Tour 4_).
_South Park._ Belfield (_see Tour 8_).
=Special regulations:= No hunting allowed. Camping permitted at
points where facilities are provided. Fires allowed only at points
designated.
=Warnings:= Avoid low places during heavy rainstorms. Horse trails
should not be attempted after rains until trail makers have had an
opportunity to repair. Use only native horses. Rattlesnakes are
encountered only infrequently (_see_ GENERAL INFORMATION).
=Summary of attractions:= Badlands views, petrified forests,
horseback riding, camping.
Theodore Roosevelt's biographer, Herman Hagedorn, writes:
"Between the prairie lands of North Dakota and the prairie lands
of Montana there is a narrow strip of broken country so wild and
fantastic in its beauty that it seems as though some unholy demon
had carved it to mock the loveliness of God. On both sides of a
sinuous river rise ten thousand buttes cut into bizarre shapes by
the waters of countless centuries. The hand of man never dared to
paint anything as those hills are painted. Olive and lavender,
buff, brown, and dazzling white mingle with emerald and flaming
scarlet to make a piece of savage splendor that is not without an
element of the terrible. The buttes are stark and bare. Only in
the clefts are ancient cedars, starved and deformed. In spring
there are patches of green grass, an acre here, a hundred acres
there, reaching up the slopes from the level bottom-land; but there
are regions where for miles and miles no green thing grows, and
all creation seems a witch's caldron of gray bubbles tongued with
flame, held by some bit of black art forever in suspension."
Here in this broken country, known as the Badlands of the Little
Missouri, the Roosevelt Regional State Parks are being developed to
preserve parts of the strange area as scenic and recreational centers,
and at the same time to establish a memorial to the former President,
who as a young man spent part of each year from 1883 to 1886 ranching
here. (_See Tours 8 and 10._) To view the freakish, tumbled, unearthly
valley is to appreciate and at the same time be amused by Gen. Alfred
Sully's oft-quoted characterization of the region as "hell with the
fires out." It must be remembered that the general received his
impressions as he jolted along in a wagon, sick, while his troops
fought Sioux through the confused, uncertain terrain all one hot day
in August 1864. Others visiting it under more favorable circumstances,
especially during the freshness of spring, concede the unparalleled
fantasy of the landscape, and agree on its strange, wild, potent
beauty. Twenty years after Sully fought the Sioux here Roosevelt wrote,
"I grow very fond of this place ... it ... has a desolate, grim beauty,
that has a curious fascination for me." Since then many noted travelers
and writers have marveled at its beauties and deplored the fact that
its attractions have not been made more widely known.
The traveler approaching the Badlands from the rolling prairies on
either side suddenly finds himself overlooking a valley cut abruptly
into the heart of the plain, a valley filled with a strange welter of
bare ridges and hillocks, buttes and domes, pyramids and cones, forming
one of the most extraordinary topographies on the surface of the earth.
In broad horizontal stripes across the varied shapes of the buttes are
the browns, reds, grays, and yellows of the sand and clay laid down
centuries ago when during successive ages arms of the sea covered large
parts of the North American Continent. Where today the visitor stands
and looks out over the naked buttes once lay a mighty sea in which
swam monsters whose fossilized skeletons are embedded in the strata
laid down by the primordial waters.
Here and there, standing out against the lighter coloring of the sands
and clays, are black veins of lignite. Ages ago dense forests, rivaling
those of the tropics of today, rose over the swamps of the receding
seas. The motorcar speeds through a region where the giant hog, the
three-toed horse, and the saber-toothed tiger roamed among lofty trees.
The cast-off growth of the forest fell into the swamps below, where,
shut away from the air by water and mud, it turned into peat. Centuries
later the seas returned to crush it with heavy layers of shale and
clay, until pressure and heat drove out most of the volatile oils of
the wood, leaving carbon or coal. It is not surprising to find that
lignite coal has the same cellular formation as wood, and that it at
times bears the imprint of leaves or of whole trunks of trees. The
forms of stumps 15 feet in diameter have been found in the coal beds of
the State.
Lighting up the dull strata of the buttes are the ever present
pinks and reds of scoria--clay burnt into a brick-like shale by the
centuries-old fires of burning coal veins. Some of these burning
veins still exist in the Badlands, being more easily discoverable in
the wintertime, when the heat from combustion causes steam to rise.
This burning has been one of the major factors in the production of
the present Badlands topography, for as the fires have eaten into the
coal veins in the cliffs, the earth has crumbled and been carried away
by the rains and streams. These fires were an awesome sight to the
Indians, who believed the hills were on fire.
The chief agent, however, in the formation of the Badlands has been
the Little Missouri River, which centuries ago began to carve its way
down through the soft shales and sandstones with which the early seas
had covered the area. Aided by the eroding action of wind, frost, and
rain, by huge landslides, and by burning coal veins, the once swift,
always silt-laden river and its tributaries have floated away all the
age-old clays of the region except these buttes and domes piled in
indescribable confusion along the valley floor. The Indians, called the
valley "The-place-where-the-hills-look-at-each-other," and the first
white explorers, impeded in their travel, named it "bad lands to travel
through," a phrase inevitably shortened to Badlands.
Adding to the bizarre coloring of this unusual valley are the blue-gray
and silver of the sage, so often remarked by Roosevelt, the light green
of the sparse grasses of butte top and valley, and the darker green
of the cedars which cling to the shady sides of buttes. Cottonwood,
ash, box elder, elm, bull pine, dogwood, and flowering currant grow
along the Little Missouri, while gooseberries, buffalo berries, and
chokecherries ripen in the gullies. In June the large, white, open
flowers of the low-growing gumbo lily, also known as the cowboy lily
and the butte primrose, appear in the otherwise barren soil at the foot
of the buttes, to be followed shortly by the purple-centered white
and lavender Mariposa and creamy white yucca lilies. In midsummer the
small, wine-colored flowers of the ball cactus and the large, waxy,
lemon-yellow and brown blossoms of the prickly pear cactus show on the
drier soil of the buttes, and the scoria lily, with its thistle-like
foliage, opens its large, white flower only after sundown. In addition
to these striking, gaudy blooms, a great variety of more common North
Dakota flowers also appear in the valley of the Little Missouri,
especially in the springtime.
When white men first visited the region, it was rich in wild life.
Beaver and otter swam the streams, flocks of game birds hid in the
breaks, droves of elk, deer, and antelope fed along the Little
Missouri, and huge herds of buffalo often darkened the prairie above
the valley. In Roosevelt's ranching days game was still abundant, and
grizzlies and mountain lions were encountered occasionally. Rocky
Mountain, or bighorn, sheep were killed as late as 1906. Bobcats and
coyotes are found occasionally even today. The valley harbors more than
300 species of birds, including many game birds and the golden eagle.
On patches of dry grassland here and there, down in the bottoms or
up on the buttes, there are prairie-dog towns--areas sometimes as
much as a hundred acres in extent, thickly dotted with the small
mounds of their cunning inhabitants. Prairie dogs, somewhat larger
than good-sized rats, are burrowing rodents allied to the marmot. In
digging their burrows they throw the earth up into little mounds, upon
which, whenever anything has aroused their curiosity or fear, they sit
to chatter, barking like very small dogs, or perhaps more like gray
squirrels.
Interesting in connection with any description of the origin of the
Badlands is the Sioux legend of their formation. Unknown centuries
ago, it is said, the Badlands were a fertile plain, covered with rich
grasses and abounding with game. Every autumn the plains tribes came
here to get meat for winter and to hold friendly councils beneath the
trees which grew along the rivers. Tribes, hostile at other times and
in other places, while here greeted each other in peace.
This happy arrangement continued for many years, but one season a
fierce tribe came from the mountains to the west and drove the plains
tribes from their hunting grounds. Being unsuccessful in their attempts
to dislodge the invaders, the plains people finally called a great
council and fasted and prayed. Many days passed, however, and no answer
came from the Great Spirit, and they began to despair.
Then suddenly a great shudder convulsed the earth, the sky grew black
as midnight, and lightning burned jagged through the gloom. Fires
hissed from the earth and the once pleasant land rolled and tossed like
the waves of the sea, while into its flaming, pitching surface sank the
invading tribe, the streams, the trees, and all living things. Then
just as suddenly as it had begun, the upheaval and the conflagration
ceased, leaving the plain fixed in grotesque waves.
In this way the Great Spirit destroyed the prize that had stirred up
strife among his children, and the Badlands were created.
NORTH ROOSEVELT REGIONAL STATE PARK TOUR
East entrance (_see Tour 4_)--Sperati Point (_see Tour 10_), 14 m.
The North Roosevelt Regional State Park, which has an area of
approximately 40 square miles, presents many of the best Badlands
features, including a petrified forest and the remarkable views of the
Grand Canyon of the Little Missouri River from Sperati Point.
From the eastern entrance the winding graveled and scoria park highway
proceeds in a general westerly direction along the northern side of the
LITTLE MISSOURI.
Just inside the entrance are the blue-gray buildings of the permanent
CCC CAMP (L), which houses the 200 men assigned to putting trails
through the area and building rustic equipment at the picnic and
camping areas in the park.
At =1.5 m.= is the CHALONER CREEK HORSE TRAIL.
Right on this trail which affords an opportunity for a ride of =5
m.= among the buttes and along the edge of the higher land above the
brush-filled gullies or breaks. Some parts of the trail are cut through
groves of aspen, ash, elm, and cedar on the north side of buttes, while
other parts move over the face of the cliffs or on high and narrow
ridges with precipitous canyon walls 300 ft. or more in depth dropping
on either side. Petrified stumps are along the trail.
The highway, continuing W. more directly than the river, which here
makes a deep bend to the S., skirts patches of woodland along the
bottoms to reach SQUAW CREEK PICNIC AREA, =5 m.=, the best-developed
camping center in the two parks. This picnic area on the banks of the
Little Missouri has excellent grass and shade. Its one-way road leads
among aspen, aromatic sumac, oak, poplar, and cottonwood to a number
of individual camp sites. In addition to a stone and log shelter and
numerous fireplaces, the area has 4 wells and 45 tables. At the east
edge of the area a rustic footbridge leads over a little ravine, to
clean, grassy picnic grounds.
Northwest of Squaw Creek Picnic Area the road passes along the edge of
the breaks overlooking the river to a junction with CEDAR CANYON HORSE
TRAIL at =5.8 m.=
Left on this 5-mile trail, which is very similar in character to the
Chaloner Creek Horse Trail, are lookout points affording excellent
views. In spring portions of the trail show a profusion of wild flowers.
The highway proceeds NW. to the junction with a graded road.
Right at this junction on a road disclosing very good views; it leads
NW. along the west side of dry SQUAW CREEK to the northern boundary of
the park, =6 m.= Beyond lies ARNEGARD, =20 m.= (_see Tour 4_), by which
the Badlands and the park can be entered from the N.
At =7 m.= is CEDAR CANYON LOOKOUT, which commands an exceptionally good
view to the S. across the Little Missouri River and beyond, where as
far as the eye can reach stretch the tumbled outlines of the buttes.