AROUND YELLOWSTONE LAKE.
The Yellowstone leaves the Lake with an easy flow in a channel a
quarter of a mile wide, and deep enough to swim a horse. A mile to the
eastward of the outlet is the mouth of Pelican Creek, whose swampy
valley is the resort of myriads of waterfowl. On the northern side,
three or four miles from the lake, Sulphur Hills stand as monuments of
a once magnificent system of boiling springs.
The deposit covers the side of the mountain to an elevation of 600 feet
above the lake shore. The huge white mass of silica, covering an area
half a mile square, can be seen from any position on the lake shore,
whence it appears like an immense bank of snow. In the valley near
Pelican Creek, a few springs issue from beneath the crust, distributing
their waters over the bottom and depositing oxide of iron, sulphur,
and silica in the most beautiful blending of gay colors. Although
the waters of the springs are 160° in temperature, the channels are
lined with a thick growth of mosses and other plants, and in the water
is an abundance of vividly green vegetation. The mass of hot-spring
material built up here cannot be less than 400 feet in thickness. A
large portion of it is pudding-stone or conglomerate. Some of the
masses inclosed in the fine white silicious cement are themselves
globes of pure white silica, eight inches in diameter. It is plain,
from the evidence still remaining, that this old ruin has been the
theatre of tremendous geyser action at some period not very remote,
and that the steam-vents, which are very numerous, represent only the
dying stages. These vents or chimneys are richly adorned with brilliant
yellow sulphur, sometimes as a hard amorphous coating, and sometimes in
delicate crystals that vanish like frost-work at the touch. It seems
that it is only during the last stages of these springs that they adorn
themselves with these brilliant and vivid colors.
Hot springs are scattered along the valley of the creek for several
miles, some of them of considerable size and beauty. The average width
of the valley is about two miles; the heat from the springs and the
extremely fertile soil combining to fill the valley with abundant
vegetation. At the northeastern corner of the lake, five or six miles
from the outlet, is a long, low spit of land built out into the lake
by ancient geyser action. A few roaring steam-vents, giving name
to the point, are all that remain of the violent action that once
characterized the place. The hot spring area is four or five miles
long by two wide; the ground in many places being perforated like a
cullender with simmering vents. A mile or so from the lake is a large
pond where there is another extensive group of springs, depositing
sulphur, alum, common salt, and staining the ground with oxide of iron.
South of Steam Point is a small bay bounded by a deposit of yellow
clay, full of the remarkable concretions already referred to.
Further up the eastern shore are pebbly beaches strewn with agates
cornelians, and chips of chalcedony. Beyond, the narrow lake-shore is
quite impassable. The adjacent lowlands, and the higher levels and
hill-slopes further back, are almost as difficult of penetration, owing
to the dense growth of lofty pines and the interminable fire-slashes
that cover large areas. These fire-slashes are due to autumnal fires
which sweep through the forests, burning the vegetable mould, so that
the trees are left without support, and the first wind lays them down
in the wildest confusion. Through these networks of fallen timber it
is with the utmost difficulty that a passage can be forced. All the
explorers speak of the exasperating nature of their tribulations in
these wildernesses.
Mr. Langford treats it with characteristic good humor.
"Ascending the plateau from the beach," he says, "we became at once
involved in all the intricacies of a primeval wilderness of pines.
Difficulties increased with our progress through it, severely trying
the amiability of every member of the company. Our pack-horses would
frequently get wedged between the trees or caught in the traps of a
network of fallen trunks, from which labor, patience, and ingenuity
were severely taxed to extricate them. The ludicrous sometimes
came to our relief, proving that there was nothing so effectual in
allaying excitement as hearty laughter. We had a remarkable pony in
our pack-train, which, from the moment we entered the forest, by his
numerous acrobatic performances and mishaps furnished amusement for the
company. One part of the process of travel through this forest could
only be accomplished by leaping over the fallen trunks, an exploit
which, with all the spirit needful for the purpose, our little broncho
lacked the power always to perform. As a consequence, he was frequently
found with the feat half accomplished, resting upon the midriff, his
fore and hind feet suspended over the opposite sides of some huge log.
His ambition to excel was only equalled by the patience he exhibited
in difficulty. On one occasion, while clambering a steep rocky ascent,
his head overtopping his haunches, he literally performed three of the
most wonderful backward headsprings ever recorded in equine history. A
continued experience of this kind, after three weeks' toilsome travel,
found him as sound as on the day of its commencement, and we dubbed him
the 'Little Invulnerable.'"
In another place Mr. Langford writes:
"Our journey of five miles, the next day, was accomplished with great
difficulty and annoyance. Almost the entire distance was through a
forest piled full of fallen trunks. Travelling was but another name for
scrambling; and as man is at times the least amiable of animals, our
tempers frequently displayed alarming activity, not only towards the
patient creatures laden with our stores, but towards each other. Once,
while involved in the reticulated meshes of a vast net of branches
and tree-tops, each man, with varied expletive emphasis, clamorously
insisting upon a particular mode of extrication, a member of the party,
who was always jolly, restored us to instant good-humor by repeating,
in theatrical tone and manner, those beautiful lines from Childe
Harold:--
"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore."
Our 'Little Invulnerable,' too, was the unconscious cause of many
bursts of laughter, which, like the plaudits of an appreciative
audience, came in at the right time."
The eastern rim of the Yellowstone Basin is formed by one of the
grandest volcanic ranges in the world, the general level of their
summits being about 10,000 feet above the sea, while numerous peaks
thrust their rugged crests a thousand feet higher into the sky. Mr.
Langford and Lieutenant Doane were the first to penetrate this range,
climbing with great labor one of the highest of the groups of lofty
peaks near the southeast corner of the Lake.
"The grandeur and vast extent of the view from this elevation," writes
Mr. Langford, "beggar description. The lake and valley surrounding
it lay seemingly at our feet within jumping distance. Beyond them we
saw with great distinctness the jets of the mud volcano and geyser.
But beyond all these, stretching away into a horizon of cloud-defined
mountains, was the entire Wind River range, revealing in the sunlight
the dark recesses, gloomy cañons, stupendous precipices, and glancing
pinnacles, which everywhere dotted its jagged slopes. Lofty peaks shot
up in gigantic spires from the main body of the range, glittering in
the sunbeams like solid crystal. The mountain on which we stood was the
most westerly peak of a range which, in long-extended volume, swept to
the southeastern horizon, exhibiting a continuous elevation more than
thirty miles in width; its central line broken into countless points,
knobs, glens, and defiles, all on the most colossal scale of grandeur
and magnificence. Outside of these, on either border, along the entire
range, lofty peaks rose at intervals, seemingly vying with each other
in the varied splendors they presented to the beholder. The scene
was full of majesty. The valley at the base of this range was dotted
with small lakes and cloven centrally by the river, which, in the far
distance, we could see emerging from a cañon of immense dimensions,
within the shade of which two enormous jets of steam shot to an
incredible height into the atmosphere."
Between the lake and this group of mountains--the three highest of
which bear the names of Langford, Doane, and Stephenson--is Brimstone
Basin. For several miles the ground is impregnated with sulphur, and
the air is tainted with sulphurous exhalations. Streams of warm
sulphur-water course the hillsides and unite to form a considerable
rivulet called Alum Creek, whose channel is coated with a creamy-white
mixture of silica and sulphur. Old pine logs, once lofty trees, lie
prostrate in every direction over the basin, which covers an area some
three miles in extent. From all appearances this basin must have been
the scene of thermal activity within a comparatively recent period; but
now not a spring can be found with a temperature above that of ordinary
spring-water. Similar brimstone basins are numerous around the lake,
on the lower slopes of the mountains, at the foot of bluffs, or more
frequently in level districts. The latter are always wet, and generally
impassable, the thin crust covering an abundance of scalding mud,
especially dangerous to horses.
The Upper Yellowstone rises in the high volcanic range which shuts off
the Yellowstone Basin from the Wind River drainage, forming what is
known as the great water-shed of the continent.
This range of mountains has a marvellous history. As it is the
loftiest, so it is the most remarkable lateral ridge of the Rocky
Range. The Indians regard it as the "crest of the world," and among
the Blackfeet there is a fable that he who attains its summit catches
a view of the land of souls, and beholds the happy hunting-grounds
spread out below him, brightening with the abodes of free and generous
spirits.
In the expedition sent across the continent by Mr. Astor, in 1811,
under command of Captain Wilson P. Hunt, that gentleman met with the
first serious obstacle to his progress at the base of this range. After
numerous efforts to scale it, he turned away and followed the valley
of the Snake, encountering the most discouraging disasters until he
arrived at Astoria.
Later, in 1833, the indomitable Captain Bonneville was lost in this
mountain labyrinth, and, after devising various modes of escape,
finally determined to ascend the range, which tremendous task he
succeeded in accomplishing, in company with one of his men. It was this
same line of snow-clad, craggy peaks that turned back Captain Raynolds
in 1859.
[Illustration: BREAKING THROUGH.]
Near its mouth the Upper Yellowstone is about half the size of the main
stream as it leaves the lake. Its valley is about three miles wide
and very marshy; all the little streams flowing down from the wooded
hill-slopes being obstructed by beaver-dams, so as to form continuous
chains of ponds. The sides of the valley are dark, sombre walls of
volcanic rock, which weathers into curious and imposing forms. Looking
up the valley from some high point, one almost imagines himself in
the presence of the ruins of some gigantic city, so much like ancient
castles and cathedrals do these rocks appear--a deception that is not
a little heightened by the singular vertical furrows cut deep into the
cliffs. At the base of the walls immense masses of breccia have fallen
from the mountain tops, in many instances cutting long swaths through
the pine forests. In the upper part of the valley, which in midsummer
is lush with vegetation, five streams flow down from the mountains
to swell the waters of the Yellowstone. These streams Colonel Barlow
calls, in honor of his commander's greatest victory, the Five Forks.
Here the valley terminates abruptly, the mountains rising like walls
and shutting off the country beyond. Just at the head of the valley is
a little lake, a hundred yards or so in width; the large lake which has
been placed on maps as Bridger's Lake having no existence. Dr. Hayden
with two assistants ascended the mountains to the west of the head of
the valley to survey the district bordering on the great divide. From
this point as far as the eye can reach on every side are bare, bald
peaks, domes and ridges in great numbers. At least one hundred peaks
worthy of a name can be located within the radius of vision. The rocks
everywhere, though massive, black, and deeply furrowed vertically, have
the appearance of horizontal stratification. In some instances the
furrows are so regular that the breccia has a columnar appearance. The
summits of the mountains are composed entirely of breccia, containing
angular masses of trachyte, from 10 to 30 feet in diameter, though most
of the fragments are small. Dr. Hayden's party camped at night near a
small lake, by the side of a bank of snow, 10,000 feet above the sea,
with short spring grass and flowers all around them. There are but two
seasons on these mountain summits, spring and winter; as late as August
fresh new grass may be seen springing up where a huge bank of snow has
just disappeared. Little spring-flowers, seldom more than two or three
inches high, cover the ground--_Clatonia_, _Viola_, _Ranunculus_, and
many others. The following morning they travelled for several miles
along a ridge not more than two hundred yards wide, from one side of
which the waters flow into the Pacific, and on the other, into the
Atlantic. To the westward the outlines of the Teton Range, with its
shark-teeth summits, are most clearly visible, covered with snow. From
whatever point of view, the sharp-pointed peaks of this range have
the form of huge sharks' teeth. To the southward, for fifty miles at
least, nothing but igneous rocks can be seen. Toward the Tetons there
is a series of high ridges, passing off from the main Teton Range
toward the northeast, and varying in height from 9,500 to 10,500 feet
above the sea, and from 1,000 to 1,800 feet above the valleys at their
base.
The explorers ascended one of the high ridges, (not the highest,
however,) and found it to be 1,650 feet above the valley at its foot.
The northeast side is steep like a roof, the southwest breaking off
abruptly. From the summit of this ridge, the view is grand in the
extreme. To the westward the entire country, for the distance of fifty
miles, seems to have been thrown up into high, sharp ridges, with
gorges 1,000 to 1,500 feet in depth. Beautiful lakes, grassy meadows
also, come within the field of vision. "I can conceive," says Dr.
Hayden, "of no more wonderful and attractive region for the explorer.
It would not be difficult for the traveller to make his way among these
grand gorges, penetrating every valley, and ascending every mountain
and ridge. The best of grass, wood, water and game are abundant to
supply the wants of himself and animals.
"I think," he continues, "that numerous passes could be found from the
valley of Snake River to the basin of the Yellowstone. It seems to me
there are many points on the south rim of the basin where a road could
be made with ease into the valley of Snake River. From this ridge there
appears to be but little difference in the altitude of Yellowstone
Lake and Heart Lake, and they cannot be more than eight or ten miles
apart, and yet the latter is one of the sources of Snake River. The
little branches of Snake River nearly interlace with some streams that
flow into the lake, and the gullies come up within two miles of the
shore-line. There is a very narrow dividing ridge in one place, between
the drainage, which may be within one mile of the lake."
Heart Lake was visited by Colonel Barlow, who found it a pretty,
pear-shaped sheet of water, four miles long and two wide in its
broadest part. From the north it receives a warm creek fed by a
considerable group of hot springs. Its outlet at the southern end joins
the terminal creek of Snake River, a few miles from its source among
the Yellowstone Mountains.
Ten miles northwest of Heart Lake is Madison Lake, the source of
Madison River, the country between being a somewhat rugged range of
mountains, of which Red Mountain is the most conspicuous. To the
eastward from Heart Lake is Mount Sheridan, from the summit of which
a magnificent view of the Yellowstone Basin can be obtained. Nearer
the great lake is Flat Mountain, whose altitude falls a little short
of 10,000 feet. Between Flat Mountain and the Yellowstone Range the
divide is very low, some of the branches of Snake River extending up to
within two miles of the lake, where the elevation is not more than 400
feet above the lake level. It is doubtless this singular interlacing
of the headwaters of the Yellowstone and Snake River that gave rise to
Bridger's story of the "Two Ocean River."
At sunrise on the morning of August 10th, at the west base of Flat
Mountain, the thermometer stood at 15½° Fah., and water froze in Dr.
Hayden's tent that night a quarter of an inch thick. It was in this
neighborhood that Mr. Everts was lost from the first expedition.
The country between Flat Mountain and the hot springs at the
southwestern extremity of the lake is a level plateau with alternating
spaces of grassy glade and dense thickets of pine around and between a
perfect network of small, lily-covered lakes. The hot springs on the
lake shore are numerous and of great variety and interest. There are
no true geysers, however, though some of the springs are pulsating
springs, the water rising and falling in their orifices with great
regularity. Higher up the bank are a large number of mud-springs, two
or three hundred in all, of variable temperatures, the most of them
not differing materially from those already described. Some, however,
have a character strikingly unique. The area covered by the springs
is about three miles long and half a mile wide, a portion of it
reaching out into the lake. Some of the submerged springs have built up
funnel-shaped craters of silicious deposit, from five to twenty feet in
height, rising from the bottom to the surface of the water. Extending
a pole over the deep water, members of Dr. Hayden's party caught trout
and cooked them in these boiling springs out in the lake without
removing them from the hook.
Four hundred yards from the lake shore is a large boiling basin of
pink-colored mud, seventy feet in diameter, with a rim of conical mud
craters, which project the hot mud in every direction. The deposit
speedily hardens into a firm, laminated stone, of beautiful texture,
though the brilliant pink color fades to a chalky white. Near and
around this basin are a dozen springs, from six to twenty-five feet
across, boiling muddy water of a paint-like consistency, varying in
color from pure white to dark yellow. Close by are several flowing
springs of clear hot water, from ten to fifty feet in diameter, their
basins and channels lined with deposits of red, green, yellow, and
black, giving them an appearance of gorgeous splendor. The bright
colors are on the surface of the rock only, which is too friable
to be preserved. Below these springs are several large craters of
bluish water, boiling to the height of two feet in the centre, and
discharging large streams of water; their rims are raised a few inches
in a delicate rock-margin of a fringe-like appearance, deposited from
the water. Beyond these are two lakes of purple water, hot, but not
boiling, and giving deposits of great beauty. Near by are two more blue
springs, one thirty by forty feet, and 173° in temperature. This spring
discharges a considerable stream into the other, which is seventy feet
distant, and six feet lower. The latter is forty feet by seventy-five,
183° in temperature, and discharges a stream of one hundred inches.
The craters of these springs are lined with a silvery-white deposit of
silica, which reflect the light so as to illuminate the water to an
immense depth. Both craters have perpendicular but irregular walls, and
the distance to which objects are visible down in their deep abysses is
truly wonderful.
West of these is another group of clear watered hot springs, which
surpass all the rest in singularity if not in beauty. These have
basins of different sizes and immeasurable depth, in which float what
appear like raw bullock hides as they look in a tanner's vat, waving
sluggishly with every undulation of the water. On examination, this
leathery substance proves to be of fragile texture, like the vegetable
scum of stagnant pools, and brilliantly colored red, yellow, green,
etc., black on the under side. This singular substance is about two
inches in thickness, jelly-like to the touch, and is composed largely
of vegetable matter, which Dr. Hayden thinks to be diatoms.
Of the beautiful transparency of the springs above described, Dr.
Hayden says: "So clear was the water that the smallest object could
be seen on the sides of the basin; and as the breeze swept across the
surface, the ultramarine hue of the transparent depth in the bright
sunlight was the most dazzlingly beautiful sight I ever beheld. There
were a number of these large clear springs, but not more than two or
three that exhibited all those brilliant shades, from deep sea green to
ultramarine."
Occasionally, says Lieutenant Doane, this anomaly is seen, namely: "two
springs, at different levels, both boiling violently; one pours a large
and constant stream into the other, yet the former does not diminish,
nor does the latter fill up and overflow."
Most of the springs, however, seem to be independent of each other,
since they have different levels at the surface, different temperatures
and pulsations, and rarely are the waters and deposits of any two
exactly alike.
Passing northward through dense woods and almost impenetrable
fire-slashes, the next noteworthy region arrived at is the valley of
Bridge Creek, the creek receiving its name from a natural bridge of
trachyte thrown across the stream. The bridge is narrow, affording
scanty room for the well-worn elk-trail two feet wide, while the
descent on either hand is so great that a fall from the bridge would
be fatal to man or beast. Numerous herds of elk make daily use of this
convenient passway.
Dead and dying springs are abundant all along the valley of this creek,
the most of them being reduced to mere steam-vents. In one place the
spring deposits cover several acres and present a most attractive
picture. The ground is thickly covered with conical mounds, from a few
inches in diameter to a hundred feet, full of steaming orifices lined
with brillant sulphur-crystals. The under side of the heated crust is
everywhere adorned in the same manner. The basis of the deposit is
snow-white silica, but it is variegated with every shade of yellow
from sulphur, and with scarlet from oxide of iron. From a distance the
whole region has the appearance of a vast lime-kiln in full operation.
Most of the country has been eroded into rounded hills from fifty to
two hundred feet high, composed of the whitish-yellow and pinkish clays
and sands of the modern lake deposit, which seems to prevail more or
less all round the rim of the basin, reaching several hundred feet
above the present level of the lake.
Between Bridge Creek and the outlet of the lake, completing the circuit
of the basin, is the Elephant's Back, a long, low mountain, noticeable
only for its rounded summit and precipitous sides.