had been so gradual that, with all the intimate knowledge possessed by
Carson, who had made the country his home for seventeen years, we were
obliged to watch very closely to find the place at which we reached the
culminating point. This was between two low hills, rising on either
hand fifty or sixty feet. When I looked back at them, from the foot of
the immediate slope on the western plain, their summits appeared to be
about one hundred and twenty feet above. From the impression on my mind
at this time, and subsequently on our return, I should compare the
elevation which we mounted immediately at the Pass to the ascent of the
Capitol hill from the avenue at Washington. It is difficult for me to
fix positively the breadth of this pass. From the broken ground where
it commences, at the foot of the White River chain, the view to the
southeast is over a champaign country, broken, at the distance of
nineteen miles, by the Table Rock, which, with the other isolated hills
in its vicinity, seem to stand in a comparative plain. This I judged to
be its termination, the ridge recovering its rugged character with the
Table Rock.
It will be seen that it in no manner resembles the places to which the
term is commonly applied,--nothing of the gorge-like character and
winding ascents of the Alleghany passes in America; nothing of the Great
St. Bernard and Simplon passes in Europe. Approaching it from the mouth
of the Sweet Water, a sandy plain, one hundred and twenty miles long,
conducts, by a gradual and regular ascent, to the summit, about seven
thousand feet above the sea; and the traveller, without being reminded
of any change by toilsome ascents, suddenly finds himself on the waters
which flow to the Pacific Ocean. By the route we had travelled, the
distance from Fort Laramie is three hundred and twenty miles, or nine
hundred and fifty from the mouth of the Kansas.
[They continued their course westward, crossing several
tributaries of the Colorado River, and on the 10th reached
unexpectedly a beautiful lake.]
Here a view of the intensest magnificence and grandeur burst upon our
eyes. With nothing between us and their feet to lessen the effect of the
whole height, a grand bed of snow-capped mountains rose before us, pile
upon pile, glowing in the bright light of an August day. Immediately
below them lay the lake, between two ridges, covered with dark pines,
which swept down from the main chain to the spot where we stood. "Never
before," said Mr. Preuss, "in this country or in Europe, have I seen
such grand, magnificent rocks." I was so much pleased with the beauty of
the place that I determined to make the main camp here, where our
animals would find good pasturage, and explore the mountains with a
small party of men.
[On the 12th this party set out, crossing intervening hills,
and ascending through dense forests to the summit of the ridge.]
We had reached a very elevated point, and in the valley below, and among
the hills, were a number of lakes of different levels, some two or three
hundred feet above others, with which they communicated by foaming
torrents. Even to our great height the roar of the cataracts came up,
and we could see them leaping down in lines of snowy foam. From this
scene of busy waters we turned abruptly into the stillness of a forest,
where we rode among the open bolls of the pines, over a lawn of verdant
grass, having strikingly the air of cultivated grounds. This led us,
after a time, among masses of rock, which had no vegetable earth but in
hollows and crevices, though still the pine-forest continued. Towards
evening we reached a defile, or rather a hole in the mountains, entirely
shut in by dark pine-covered rocks.
[In the morning they ascended a mountain stream, to its source
in a small lake surrounded by a lawn-like expanse.]
Here I determined to leave our animals, and make the rest of our way
on foot. The peak appeared so near that there was no doubt of our
returning before night; and a few men were left in charge of the mules,
with our provisions and blankets. We took with us nothing but our arms
and instruments, and, as the day had become warm, the greater part left
our coats. Having made an early dinner, we started again. We were soon
involved in the most rugged precipices, nearing the central chain very
slowly, and rising but little. The first ridge hid a succession of
others; and when, with great fatigue and difficulty, we had climbed up
five hundred feet, it was but to make an equal descent on the other
side; all these intervening places were filled with small deep lakes,
which met the eye in every direction, descending from one level to
another, sometimes under bridges formed by huge fragments of granite,
beneath which was heard the roar of the water. These constantly
obstructed our path, forcing us to make long _detours_; frequently
obliged to retrace our steps, and frequently falling among the rocks.
Maxwell was precipitated towards the face of a precipice, and saved
himself from going over by throwing himself flat on the ground. We
clambered on, always expecting, with every ridge that we crossed, to
reach the foot of the peaks, and always disappointed, until about four
o'clock, when, pretty well worn out, we reached the shore of a little
lake, in which was a rocky island.
By the time we had reached the farther side of the lake we found
ourselves all exceedingly fatigued, and, much to the satisfaction of the
whole party, we encamped. The spot we had chosen was a broad, flat rock,
in some measure protected from the winds by the surrounding crags, and
the trunks of fallen pines afforded us bright fires. Near by was a
foaming torrent, which tumbled into the little lake about one hundred
and fifty feet below us, and which, by way of distinction, we have
called Island Lake. We had reached the upper limit of the piney region;
as, above this point, no tree was to be seen, and patches of snow lay
everywhere around us, on the cold sides of the rock. From barometrical
observations made during our three days' sojourn at this place, its
elevation above the Gulf of Mexico is ten thousand feet....
[They set out early the next morning.]
On every side, as we advanced, was heard the roar of waters, and of a
torrent, which we followed up a short distance, until it expanded into a
lake about one mile in length. On the northern side of the lake was a
bank of ice, or rather of snow covered with a crust of ice. Carson had
been our guide into the mountains, and, agreeably to his advice, we
left this little valley and took to the ridges again, which we found
extremely broken, and where we were again involved among precipices.
Here were ice-fields, among which we were all dispersed, seeking each
the best way to ascend the peak. Mr. Preuss attempted to walk along the
upper edge of one of these fields, which sloped away at an angle of
about twenty degrees; but his feet slipped from under him, and he went
plunging down the plain. A few hundred feet below, at the bottom, were
some fragments of sharp rock, on which he landed; and, though he turned
a couple of somersets, fortunately received no injury beyond a few
bruises.
[That day's work failed, and they returned at evening to the
camp. The next day they ascended a long defile on mule-back,
and soon had the satisfaction to find that they had taken the
right course. Finally, leaving their mules, they continued on
foot, eventually reaching a point near the summit. Here was an
overhanging buttress of rock, which could be surmounted only by
passing around one side of it, which was the face of a
precipice several hundred feet in depth.]
Putting hands and feet in the crevices between the blocks, I succeeded
in getting over it, and when I reached the top, found my companions in
a small valley below. Descending to them, we continued climbing, and in
a short time reached the crest. I sprang upon the summit, and another
step would have precipitated me into an immense snow-field five hundred
feet below. To the edge of this field was a sheer icy precipice; and
then, with a gradual fall, the field sloped off for about a mile, until
it struck the foot of another lower ridge. I stood on a narrow crest,
about three feet in width, with an inclination of about 20 deg. north, 51 deg.
east.
As soon as I had gratified the first feeling of curiosity I descended,
and each man ascended in his turn; for I would only allow one at a time
to mount the unstable and precarious slab, which it seemed a breath
would precipitate into the abyss below. We mounted the barometer in the
snow of the summit, and, fixing a ramrod in a crevice, unfurled the
national flag to wave in the breeze where never flag waved before.
During our morning's ascent we had met no sign of animal life, except a
small sparrow-like bird. A stillness the most profound and a terrible
solitude forced themselves constantly on the mind as the great features
of the place. Here, on the summit, where the stillness was absolute,
unbroken by any sound, and solitude complete, we thought ourselves
beyond the region of animated life; but while we were sitting on the
rock, a solitary bee (_Bombus, the bumble-bee_) came winging his flight
from the eastern valley, and lit on the knee of one of the men.
It was a strange place, the icy rock and the highest peak of the Rocky
Mountains, for a lover of warm sunshine and flowers; and we pleased
ourselves with the idea that he was the first of his species to cross
the mountain barrier,--a solitary pioneer to foretell the advance of
civilization. I believe that a moment's thought would have made us let
him continue his way unharmed; but we carried out the law of this
country, where all animated nature seems at war; and seizing him
immediately, put him in at least a fit place,--in the leaves of a large
book, among the flowers we had collected on our way. The barometer stood
at 18.293, the attached thermometer 44 deg.; giving for the elevation of
this summit thirteen thousand five hundred and seventy feet above the
Gulf of Mexico, which may be called the highest flight of the bee. It is
certainly the highest known flight of that insect.
From the description given by Mackenzie of the mountains where he
crossed them, with that of the French officer still farther to the
north, and Colonel Long's measurements to the south, joined to the
opinion of the oldest traders of the country, it is presumed that this
is the highest peak in the Rocky Mountains. [Fremont's Peak is now
estimated at thirteen thousand seven hundred and ninety feet. There are
many peaks now known over fourteen thousand feet. The highest point is
Blanca Peak, fourteen thousand four hundred and sixty-three feet high.]
The day was sunny and bright, but a slight shining mist hung over the
lower plains, which interfered with our view of the surrounding country.
On one side we overlooked innumerable lakes and streams, the spring of
the Colorado of the Gulf of California; and on the other was the Wind
River Valley, where were the heads of the Yellowstone branch of the
Missouri; far to the north we could just discover the snowy heads of the
_Trois Tetons_, where were the sources of the Missouri and Columbia
Rivers; and at the southern extremity of the ridge the peaks were
plainly visible among which were some of the springs of the Nebraska or
Platte River. Around us the whole scene had one main, striking feature,
which was that of terrible convulsion. Parallel to its length, the ridge
was split into chasms and fissures; between which rose the thin lofty
walls, terminated with slender minarets and columns.
[The party reached camp the next day, and on the 17th turned
their faces homeward, the purpose of the expedition having been
accomplished.]
IN THE YELLOWSTONE PARK.
FERDINAND V. HAYDEN.
[About the middle of this century reports began to be heard of
a veritable wonderland in the far West, as yet seen only by
trappers and other adventurers, whose stories of the marvels
they had beheld whetted the appetite of scientific explorers.
The first attempt to reach the region of the Yellowstone was
made in 1856, but failed, and it was not until 1869 that an
exploring party entered this marvellous valley. A second party
reached the Yellowstone region in 1870, and Mr. N. P. Langford
wrote a glowing account of the wonders observed. The first
detailed description of the locality was made by Dr. Hayden,
chief of the Geological Survey of the Territories, in 1871.
From this extended and highly interesting account we can only
quote a few passages, selecting those which relate to the hot
springs and geysers of the wonderful Fire-Hole River region.]
Early in the morning of August 30 the valley was literally filled with
columns of steam, ascending from more than a thousand vents. I can
compare the view to nothing but that of some manufacturing city like
Pittsburg, as seen from a high point, except that instead of the black
coal smoke there are here the white delicate clouds of steam. Small
groups or solitary springs that are scattered everywhere in the woods
upon the mountain-sides, and which would otherwise have escaped
observation, are detected by the columns of steam. It is evident that
some of these groups of springs have changed their base of operations
within a comparatively recent period; for about midway on the east side
of the lower basin there is a large area covered with a thick,
apparently modern, deposit of the silica, as white as snow, while
standing quite thickly all around are the dead pines, which appear to
have been destroyed by the excessive overflow of the water and the
increased deposition. These dry trees have a most desolate look; many of
them have fallen down and are incrusted with the silica, while portions
that have fallen into the boiling springs have been reduced to a pulp.
This seems to be one of the conditions of silicification, for when these
pulpy masses of wood are permitted to dry by the cessation of the
springs, the most perfect specimens of petrified wood are the result. In
one instance a green pine-tree had fallen so as to immerse its thick top
in a large hot basin, and leaves, twigs, and cones had become completely
incrusted with the white silica, and a portion had entered into the
cellular structure, so that when removed from the water and dried in the
sun, very fair specimens were obtained. Members of my party obtained
specimens of pine-cones that were sufficiently silicified to be packed
away among the collections.
[Illustration: THE UPPER YELLOWSTONE FALLS
FROM A PAINTING BY THOMAS MORAN]
In order that we might get a complete view of the Lower Geyser Basin
from some high point, we made a trip to the summit of Twin Buttes, on
the west side of the basin. From the top of one of these buttes, which
is six hundred and thirty feet above the Fire-Hole River, we obtained a
bird's-eye view of the entire lower portion of the valley, which was
estimated to be about twenty miles long and five miles wide. To the
westward, among the mountains, were a number of little lakes, which were
covered with a huge species of water-lily, _Nuphar advena_. The little
streams precipitated their waters in the most picturesque cascades or
falls. One of them was named by Colonel Barlow the "Fairy Fall," from
the graceful beauty with which the little stream dropped down a clear
descent of two hundred and fifty feet. It is only from a high point
that it can be seen, for the water falls gently down from the lofty
overhanging cliff into a basin at the foot, which is surrounded by a
line of tall pines one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet in height.
The continual flow of the waters of this little fountain has worn a deep
channel or furrow into the vertical sides of the mountain. As far as the
eye can reach can be seen the peculiar plateau mountain ranges, black
with the dense forests of pine, averaging from nine thousand to ten
thousand feet above sea-level....
A spring on a level with the river has an enormous square basin thirty
feet across, of unknown depth. We called this the "Bath Spring." A
little below is another singular form of wonderful beauty. The water
issues from beneath the crust near the margin of the river from several
apertures. The basin itself is fifteen by twenty feet and twenty feet
deep. It seemed to me that nothing could exceed the transparent
clearness of the water. The slightest object was reflected in its clear
depths, and the bright blue tints were indescribable. We called this the
"Cavern." The mud springs are also numerous and important in this group.
As usual, they are of all sizes, from an inch or two to twenty or thirty
feet in diameter, with contents varying from mere turbid water to stiff
mud. They seldom have any visible outlet, but are in a constant state of
agitation, with a sound that varies with the consistency of the
contents. There are several of the mud-pots that give off a suppressed
thud as the gases burst their way through the stiff mortar. Sometimes
the mortar is as white as snow, or brown, or tinged with a variety of
vivid colors....
On the west side of the Fire-Hole, and along the little branch that
flows into it from the west, are numbers of springs of all grades, and
the broad bottom is covered with a snow-white silicious crust. Near the
base of the mountains there is a massive first-class boiling spring, in
a constant state of violent agitation, sending forth great columns of
steam, with a singular toadstool rim.... About three miles up the
Fire-Hole we meet with a small but quite interesting group of springs on
both sides of the stream. There is a vast accumulation of silica,
forming a hill fifty feet along the level of the river; upon the summit
one of the largest springs yet seen, nearly circular, one hundred and
fifty feet in diameter, boils up in the centre, but overflows with such
uniformity on all sides as to admit of the formation of no real rim, but
forming a succession of little ornamental steps, from one to three
inches in height, just as water would congeal from cold in flowing down
a gentle declivity. There was the same transparent clearness, the same
brilliancy of coloring to the waters, but the hot steam and the thinness
of the rim prevented me from approaching it near enough to ascertain its
temperature or observe its depth. It is certainly one of the grandest
hot springs ever seen by human eye.
But the most formidable one of all is near the margin of the river. It
seems to have broken out close by the river, and to have continually
enlarged its orifice by the breaking down of its sides. It evidently
commenced on the east side, and the continual wear of the under side of
the crust on the west side has caused the margin to fall in, until an
aperture at least two hundred and fifty feet in diameter has been
formed, with walls or sides twenty to thirty feet high, showing the
laminae of deposition perfectly. The water is intensely agitated all the
time, boiling like a caldron, from which a vast column of steam is ever
rising, filling the orifice. As the passing breeze sweeps it away for a
moment, one looks down into this terrible seething pit with terror. All
around the sides are large masses of the silicious crust that have
fallen from the rim. An immense column of water flows out of this
caldron into the river. As it pours over the marginal slope it descends
by numerous small channels, with a large number of smaller ones
spreading over a broad surface, and the marvellous beauty of the
strikingly vivid coloring far surpasses anything of the kind we have
seen in this land of wondrous beauty,--every possible shade of color,
from vivid scarlet to a bright rose, and every shade of yellow to a
delicate cream, mingled with vivid green from minute vegetation. Some of
the channels were lined with a very fine, delicate yellow, silky
material, which vibrates at every movement of the waters. There was one
most beautiful funnel-shaped spring, twenty feet in diameter at the top,
but tapering down, lined inside and outside with the most delicate
decorations. Indeed, to one looking down into its clear depths, it
seemed like a fairy palace. The same jelly-like substance or pulp to
which I have before alluded covers a large area with the various shades
of light red and green. The surface yields to the tread like a cushion.
It is about two inches in thickness, and although seldom so tenacious as
to hold together, yet it may be taken up in quite large masses, and when
it becomes dry it is blown about by the wind, like fragments of
variegated lichens.
[From this description of the hot springs of the region we
proceed to an account of its marvellous geyser phenomena.]
We camped the evening of August 5 in the middle of the Upper Geyser
Basin, in the midst of some of the grandest geysers in the world.
Colonel Barlow and Captain Heap, of the United States Engineers, were
camped on the opposite side of the Fire-Hole. Soon after reaching camp
a tremendous rumbling was heard, shaking the ground in every direction,
and soon a column of steam burst forth from a crater near the edge of
the east side of the river. Following the steam, arose, by a succession
of impulses, a volume of water, apparently six feet in diameter, to the
height of two hundred feet, while the steam ascended a thousand feet or
more. It would be difficult to describe the excitement which attended
such a display. It is probable that if we could have remained in the
valley several days, and become accustomed to all the preliminary
warnings, the excitement would have ceased, and we could have admired
calmly the marvellous ease and beauty with which this column of hot
water was held up to that great height for the space of twenty minutes.
After the display is over the water settles down in the basin several
inches, and the temperature slowly falls to 150 deg.. We called this the
"Grand Geyser," for its power seemed greater than any other of which we
obtained any knowledge in the valley.
[After describing more particularly the peculiarities of the
Grand Geyser and the smaller neighboring geysers, Dr. Hayden
gives us an enthusiastic pen-picture of a beautiful type of
springs.]
On the summit of the great mound is one of a class I have called central
springs; it is located on the highest point of the mound on which this
great group belongs; has a crater twenty feet in diameter, very nearly
quiescent, slightly bubbling, or boils near the centre, with a thin,
elegant rim projecting over the spring, with the water rising within a
few inches of the top. The continual but very moderate overflow of this
spring, uniformly on every side, builds up slowly a broad-based mound,
layer by layer, one-eighth to one-sixteenth of an inch thick. Looking
down into these springs, you seem to be gazing into fathomless depths,
while the bright blue of the water is unequalled even by the sea. There
are a number of these marvellous central springs, with projecting rims
carved with an intricate delicacy which of itself is a marvel; and as
one ascends the mound and looks down into the wonderfully clear depths,
the vision is unique. The great beauty of the prismatic colors depends
much on the sunlight, but about the middle of the day, when the bright
rays descend nearly vertically, and a slight breeze just makes a ripple
on the surface, the colors exceed comparison; when the surface is calm
there is one vast chaos of colors, dancing, as it were, like the colors
of a kaleidoscope.
As seen through this marvellous play of colors, the decorations on the
sides of the basin are lighted up with a wild, weird beauty which wafts
one at once into the land of enchantment; all the brilliant feats of
fairies and genii in the "Arabian Nights" entertainments are forgotten
in the actual presence of such marvellous beauty; life becomes a
privilege and a blessing after one has seen and thoroughly felt these
incomparable types of nature's cunning skill....
Our search for new wonders leading us across the Fire-Hole River, we
ascended a gently incrusted slope, and came suddenly upon a large oval
aperture with scalloped edges, the diameters of which were eighteen and
twenty-five feet, the sides corrugated and covered with a grayish-white
silicious deposit, which was distinctly visible at the depth of a
hundred feet below the surface. No water could be discovered, but we
could distinctly hear it gurgling and boiling at a great distance below.
Suddenly it began to rise, boiling and spluttering, and sending out huge
masses of steam, causing a general stampede of our company, driving us
to some distance from our point of observation. When within about forty
feet of the surface it became stationary, and we returned to look down
upon it. It was foaming and surging at a terrible rate, occasionally
emitting small jets of hot water nearly to the mouth of the orifice.