OUR NATIONAL PARK.
A Delightful Rhapsody--Early History of Yellowstone Park--A Fish Story
which Convulsed Congress--The First White Man to Visit the Park--A Race
for Life--Philosophy of the Hot Springs--Mount Everts--From the Geysers
to Elk Park--Some Old Friends and New Ones--Yellowstone Lake--The
Angler's Paradise.
Yellowstone Park is generally included in the list of the wonders of the
world. It is certainly unique in every respect, and no other nation,
modern or ancient, has ever been able to boast of a recreation ground
and park provided by nature and supplied with such magnificent and
extraordinary attractions and peculiarities. It is a park upon a
mountain, being more than 10,000 feet above the level of the sea.
Irregular in shape, it may be said to be about sixty miles across on the
average, and it contains an area of 3,500 square miles.
Mr. Olin D. Wheeler, in an admirable treatise on this park, in which he
describes some of the many wonders in the marvelous region traversed by
the Northern Pacific Railroad, thus rhapsodizes:
"The Yellowstone Park! The gem of wonderland. The land of mystic
splendor. Region of bubbling caldron and boiling pool with fretted rims,
rivaling the coral in delicacy of texture and the rainbow in variety of
color; of steaming funnels exhaling into the etherine atmosphere in
calm, unruffled monotone and paroxysmal ejection, vast clouds of fleecy
vapor from the underground furnaces of the God of Nature; sylvan
parkland, where amidst the unsullied freshness of flower-strewn valley
and bountiful woodland, the native fauna of the land browse in fearless
joy and wander wild and free, unfretted by sound of huntsman's horn, the
long-drawn bay of the hound, and the sharp crack of the rifle.
"Land of beauteous vale and laughing water, thundering cataract and
winding ravine; realm of the Ice King and the Fire King; enchanted spot,
where mountain and sea meet and kiss each other; where the murmurs of
the river, as it meanders through heaven-blest valleys, becomes harsh
and sullen amid the pine-covered hills which darken and throttle its
joyous song, until, uncontrollable, it throws itself, a magnificent
sheet of diamond spray and plunging torrent, over precipices, and rolls
along an emerald flood betwixt cañon walls, such as the eye of mortal
has seldom seen."
The history of this park is involved in a good deal of mystery. About
ninety years ago it was first discovered, but the information brought
back to civilization by the explorers was apparently so exaggerated that
it excited general ridicule. No one believed that the wonders described
really existed. Even later, when corroborative evidence was forthcoming,
skepticism continued. It was almost as difficult then to make people
believe the truth about the hot springs and geysers, as it is now to
make people believe that it is possible for a man to stand on the edge
of a hot spring, catch the choicest kind of fish in the cool waters of
the lake surrounding him, and then cook his fish in the boiling water of
the spring without taking it off the hook, or walking a single step.
This latter fish story has the peculiar feature of being true. Several
reliable men, including some who have not allowed the ardent pursuit of
Isaac Walton's pet pastime to blunt their susceptibility of veracity,
have performed this apparently impossible feat, or have seen it done
right before their very eyes. A year or so ago, when an appropriation
was asked for in Congress for the further preservation of Yellowstone
Park, a member made this extraordinary possibility an argument in
support of his plea. A roar of laughter succeeded his recital, and when
the orator stopped to explain that he was merely recording an actual
fact and not telling a fish story, there seemed to be danger of
wholesale convulsion within the legislative walls. Several of the amused
Congressmen subsequently made inquiries and ascertained to their
astonishment that, instead of exaggeration, the half had not been told,
and that if a full summary of the attractions of Yellowstone Park were
to be written, the immense shelves of the Congressional Library itself
would scarcely hold the books that would have to be written to contain
it.
This little divergence is to afford an excuse for the incredulity of our
forefathers, who made sarcastic remarks as to the powers of wild Western
whisky, when pioneers returned from the Rocky Mountains and told them
that there existed away up in the clouds an immense natural park, where
beauty and weirdness could be found side by side.
John Colter, or Coulter, is said to have been the first white man who
ever entered the natural portals of this glorious park. It was in the
early days of the century that this remarkable man had his adventure. He
was a member of the Lewis and Clark expedition, which was sent out to
explore the sources of the Missouri and Columbia Rivers. He was
naturally an adventurer, and a man who had no idea of the meaning of the
word "danger." The party had a glimpse of Yellowstone Park, and Coulter
was so enamored with the hunting prospects that he either deserted from
the expedition party or obtained permission to remain behind.
However this may have been, it is certain that Coulter remained, with
but one companion, in the vicinity of the Jefferson Fork of the Missouri
River. According to fairly authentic records, he and his companion were
captured by hostile Blackfeet, who showed their resentment at the
intrusion upon the privacy of their domains by depriving Coulter of his
clothing, and Coulter's companion of his life. The chronic adventurer,
however, spent four years among the more friendly Bannock Indians, who
probably for centuries had lived in or near the park. He had a very
enjoyable time in the newly discovered region, and his adventures
crowded upon each other, one after the other, with great rapidity. When
at last he decided to return to the abode of the white man, he took with
him a fund of recollection and incident of the most sensational
character, and before he had been at home with his own kindred a week,
he had earned the reputation of being a modern Ananias, ten times more
mendacious than the original article.
Twenty or thirty years elapsed before any reliable information was
obtained about the park. James Bridger, the daring scout and
mountaineer, went through the park more than once, and in his most
exaggerated rhapsodies told of its beauties and of its marvels. But
Bridger's stories had been tried in the balances and found wanting
before this, and nobody worried very much over them. In 1870, Dr. F. V.
Hayden and Mr. M. P. Langford explored the park on a more rational
basis, and gave to the world, in reliable shape, a resume of their
discoveries. Mr. Langford was himself an experienced Western explorer.
For many years he had desired to either verify or disprove the so-called
fairy tales which were going the rounds concerning Yellowstone Park. He
found a number of equally adventurous gentlemen, including the
Surveyor-General of Montana, Mr. Washburn, after whom the expedition was
generally known. In 1871, Dr. Hayden, who was then connected with the
United States Geological Survey Department, undertook a scientific
exploration of the park. He was accompanied by Mr. Langford, and the two
men together tore away the veil of mystery which had overhung the
wonderful resort among the hills, and gave to the country, for the first
time, a reliable description of one of the most magnificent of its
possessions.
The report was not confined to eulogy. It included drawings, photographs
and geological summaries, and wound up with an earnest appeal to the
National Government to reserve the beauty spot as a National Park
forever. Several men arose to endorse the request, and in March, 1872,
Congress passed an act dedicating Yellowstone Park to the public for all
time, declaring it to be a grand national playground and a museum of
unparalleled and incomparable marvels.
Since that time the park has gradually become better known and more
highly appreciated. The Northern Pacific Railroad runs a branch line to
which the name of the park has been given, and which connects
Livingston, Montana, with Cinnabar, at the northern edge of the park.
The road is about fifty miles long, and the scenery through which it
passes is astounding in its nature.
From Cinnabar the tourist is driven in large stages throughout the park.
If at all reminiscent by nature, he thinks about the experiences of
Coulter, to whom we have already referred as the pioneer white man of
Yellowstone. Early in the century the park was occupied by Indians, who
had scarcely come in contact with white men, and who had not learned
that in the unavoidable conflict between races, the weaker must
inevitably succumb to the stronger. Around the limpid streams and at the
borders of the virgin forests, containing untold wealth, tents made of
skin drawn over boughs cut roughly from trees, could be seen in every
direction. All around there were rough-looking, utterly uncivilized
Indians, who were carrying out their usual occupation of doing nothing,
and doing it with exceptional ability.
The women or squaws were more active, but frequently paused in their
work to look at the unfortunate Coulter, who, deprived of his clothing
and absolutely naked, was waiting, bound hand and foot, for the fate
that he had every reason to believe awaited him. His only companion had
been killed the day before, and he expected every minute to meet the
same fate. According to his own description of what followed, strategy
saved his life. An Indian, sent for the purpose, asked him if he could
run fast. Knowing himself to be an athlete of no mean ability, but
guessing the object of the question, he assured the Indian that he was
not a speedy runner. The answer had the effect he anticipated.
His thongs were almost immediately cut, and he was taken out on the open
prairie, given a trifling start, and then told that he might save
himself if he could. Coulter had run many a fast mile before, but he
never ran as on this occasion. He knew that behind him there were, among
the indolent young Indians, many who could run with great speed, and his
only hope lay in getting to cover ahead of these. Every long stride
meant that much space between him and death, and every stride he took
was the longest in his power. Again and again he looked around, only to
discover to his astonishment that he had but just held his own. At last,
however, all his pursuers except one were tired of the pursuit, and when
he found this to be the case, he turned like a stag at bay and
overpowered him.
Then seeing that others of the Indians were taking up the chase, after a
brief rest, Coulter made another great run, plunged into the river in
front of him, and finally entered the labyrinth of forests and craters
now known to the world as Yellowstone Park. Here, if his story is to be
believed, he succeeded in making for himself clothing of some character
out of the skins of beasts that he shot, and finally he fell into the
hands of less hostile red men.
So much of the early days of Yellowstone, and of the reminiscences which
a first visit naturally conjure up. The park as it exists to-day is
overcrowded with modern interests, and one only refers to these
reminiscences by way of contrast. There are in the park at least 100
geysers, nearly 4,000 springs, and an immense number of miniature parks,
large and small rivers, and other marvels.
The park is about equi-distant from the cities of Portland and St. Paul,
and so many people have been attracted to it in recent years that a
large number of very fine hotels have been built at a great expense. The
hotels are open about four months a year, and the help to run them is
brought from different States. The expenses are naturally heavy, and
hence the hotel charges are not nominal, although the tourist can
generally limit the expenses incurred to the bulk of his pocket-book,
should he so desire. If he includes in his calculations the absolutely
free sights that he witnesses, the expense of a trip is certainly
moderate, and ought not to be taken into much consideration.
The Mammoth Hot Springs is one of the leading sources of attraction of
the park, a tour of which is something no American of means can afford
to miss. The springs are very hard to describe. They consist of a number
of irregular terraces, some as large as five acres in extent, and others
very small. Some are a few feet high, and others stand forty or sixty
feet above the one next below. Few people really understand what these
springs are, or how the terraces are formed. One authority of eminence
says that the rocks underlying the particular point are calcareous in
character, consisting mainly of carbonated lime, which is somewhat
soluble in percolating earth water. The hot subterranean water dissolves
a large amount of mineral matter in passing through the earth, which it
deposits on the surface in passing through the air. By this process
walls, embankments and terraces are built up, and as the minerals
through which the water passes are varying greatly in color, so the
deposits left on the surface are some of them red, other pink and others
black, with yellows, greens, blues, chocolates and mixed colors
abounding in immense numbers, sometimes harmonizing beautifully and
sometimes presenting the most astounding contrasts.
The water in the springs is not warm, but hot, and hence the name.
Frequently the temperature exceeds 160 degrees, in which case the
coloring matter seems to be washed out, and the terraces present a white
appearance. On other occasions, where the temperature is less severe,
the varying hues already referred to abound on every side. Sometimes
this whiteness, or bleached-out appearance, is astounding in its
effects. The true artist will stand for hours gazing upon it, and
wishing that he could reproduce, ever so inaccurately, the intense
beauties which surround him.
Behind the springs, and blocking up the view on the south, is the
mountain known as Bunsen Peak, the highest within the range of the eye.
Just across the open space, in front of the hotel at the springs, are
the quarters of the National soldiers who patrol the park, and, to a
certain extent at any rate, protect it from the vandal and the
purloiner.
In an admirable description of this scene contained in "Indian Land and
Wonderland," a very delightful story is told of the long, low, flat and
lava-capped mountain known as Mount Everts, in honor of Mr. T. C. Everts
of Helena. Few know the story upon which the mountain owes its name,
which is given as follows:
Among the members of the first party that ever explored Yellowstone Park
were Messrs. M. P. Langford, S. T. Hauser and T. C. Everts. There was
also a military escort under Lieutenant Doane. The party proceeded up
the Yellowstone River to the Grand Cañon, thence across to Yellowstone
Lake, around its eastern edge to the southern end, whence turning west
they followed down the Firehole River through the Upper Geyser Basin to
the Madison River. Following this river out from the park, they returned
to Western civilization--all but one of them.
On the nineteenth day out, September 9th, when moving across the country
bordering the southern shore of the lake, Mr. Everts became lost. The
traveling here was difficult, owing to fallen timber, rugged heights and
no trails, and he was not missed until camp was made at night. Mr.
Everts was not seen again for thirty-seven days, when he was found by
two mountaineers on the verge of what is now known as Mount Everts,
perfectly exhausted, and partly deranged through exposure and suffering.
On the very first day of his absence his horse, left standing and
unfastened, with all the man's arms and camp equipments attached, became
frightened and ran away. Everts was near-sighted, had not even a knife
for use or defense, and only a field glass to assist him in escaping. He
first managed to reach Heart Lake, the source of Snake River. Here he
remained for twelve days, sleeping close by the Hot Springs to keep from
freezing. His food was thistle roots, boiled in the springs. One night
he was forced into a tree by a mountain lion, and kept there all night.
Finally, he bethought himself of the lenses of his field glasses, and
thus was enabled to kindle fires. He wandered all along the western side
of the lake and down the Yellowstone to where he was providentially
found. He gave the story of his terrible experience in the old
"Scribner's Magazine," since become "The Century," and a thrilling tale
it makes. In a country filled with a network of streams, abundantly
supplied with animal life for food, gorged with timber for fuel, the man
nearly froze and starved and perished from thirst. Twice he was five
days without food; once three days without water. It was late in the
season, and the storms swept down on him and chilled him to the bone;
the snows kept him prisoner in camp, or, when on his painful marches,
blocked his progress.
Naturally, he lost strength, and became hourly in danger of succumbing
to the vast difficulties which confronted him. His sufferings were
increased by the fear which was created by a large mountain lion, which
got on his trail and followed him, evidently with a view to making him a
feature of the menu of his next meal. It seems incredible that Mr.
Everts should ever have escaped with his life. Fortune, however, came to
his rescue at last. He was rescued and nursed back to life by good
friends. To the plateau on which he was found, his name was given,
although there are few who will remember the significance of the name.
Norris Geyser is another of the almost miraculous features of the park.
The basin of the geyser has been described as a weird, uncanny place,
and the words seem well chosen. Of vegetation there is practically none,
because the underground heat keeps the ground always warm, and steam
breaks out into the atmosphere at several points. The general aspect is
drear and desolate, gray and dull, and yet there is something about it
beautiful as well as uncanny.
A geyser is always a source of wonder. The word is of Icelandic
derivation, and signifies gushing. As applied to phenomena such as we
are now describing, its applicability is good, for, from the mouth of
the geysers, there rushes from time to time an immense mass of boiling
water and steam, creating a disturbance of no ordinary character. It is
assumed that the water hurled into the air to a great height while at
boiling point, has risen to the surface through masses of lava, which
are reminiscent of volcanic ages far beyond the memory of mankind. The
mystery of geological formation is too great to be gone into in a work
of this character, but the bare contemplation of geysers, such as are
seen at Yellowstone Park, reminds one of the wonders deeply hidden in
the bowels of the earth, unappreciated and unknown by and to 99 per
cent. of the human race.
At the Norris Geyser basin the noise is extraordinary, and people who
are superstitiously inclined are awed at the rumblings and grumblings
which seem to issue from the bowels of the earth. Eruptions of hot water
and steam at irregular intervals burst forth, and the very road which
crosses the adjoining plain has been bleached to almost perfect
whiteness by the vapors. The crust of ground is very thin all around
here, and indiscriminate exploring is dangerous. To slip through the
crust into the boiling water beneath would inevitably involve being
scalded to death, and the man who allows the guide to show him where to
tread exhibits the greater wisdom.
In direct contrast to this basin is the Elk Park. Yellowstone is
celebrated among other things for being the home of an immense number of
the most remarkable specimens of North American animals. The Government
herd of buffalo in the park is of countless value, because it is really
the only complete representation at the present time of the practically
extinct species of flesh and hide producing animals which used to graze
by the million on the prairie. The buffalo are comparatively tame. Most
of them were born within the confines of the park, and seem to have
realized that the existence of their kind in perpetuity is one of the
greatest desires of the Government. There are a number of bears around
as well, but they have lost their viciousness, and enjoy life very
hugely under somewhat changed conditions. They seldom hurt any one, but
prowl around the hotels at night, and by eating up the scraps and
leavings solve the garbage problem in a satisfactory manner.
Deer, elk, antelope and mountain sheep climb the mountains, and very
frequently find their way into Elk Park or Gibbon Meadow. This is an
exceptionally desirable wintering ground, because it is surrounded by
hills and mountains which keep off the worst of the winds, and there is,
moreover, a perpetual spring of pure water. The meadow is probably the
prettiest spot in the entire park. There is less of the awful and more
of the picturesque than can be found elsewhere, and it is, in many
respects, an oasis in a vast and somewhat dreary expanse of land.
Golden Gate is another of the exquisite spots every visitor to
Yellowstone Park seeks and finds. To reach the Golden Gate one must be a
great climber, for it is high up, and the road to it is built along the
edge of a cliff, which, in places, seems to be absolutely perpendicular.
The gate is, however, worth reaching, and one is not surprised to hear
that as much as $14,000 were spent in cutting out a single mile of the
road to it through the rock.
Leaving the Golden Gate, and continuing the tour of inspection, a valley
of large dimensions is seen. The contrast between the rich green of
almost faultless verdure, and the dreariness of the rocks left behind,
is striking. It would seem as though nature had built up an immense
barrier between the weird and the natural, so that the one could not
affect the other. The Bible speaks of the intense comfort of the shade
of a great rock in a dry and thirsty land. A sensation of equal, if not
greater, relief is experienced in Yellowstone Park when one leaves the
grand, death-like desolation around the Hot Springs, and encounters the
exquisite beauty of shrub land and timber but a few paces away. The
groves of trees are in themselves sources of great delight, and also of
immense wealth. Fortunately, they will be preserved in perpetuity for
the American people. The lumber king cannot get here. His ravages must
be confined to other regions.
The valley into which the tourist has entered takes its name from the
Swan Lake, a very delightful inland mountain scene. The lake is about
two miles from Golden Gate. It is not a very large body of water, but
its rippling surface extracts expressions of admiration from all who
behold it. It has been described as a demure looking sheet of water, and
there is something about the appearance of the lake which seems to
justify the peculiar definition. The cañon forming the valley is like
everything else in Yellowstone Park--a little out of the ordinary. On
the one side there are lofty mountains, with eminences and peaks of
various formation and height, while in the distance the great Electric
Peak can be easily seen. We have already spoken of Yellowstone Park as
being about 10,000 feet above the sea level. Electric Peak, well
described as the sentinel of the park, is more than 11,000 feet high.
Viewed from a distance, or along the line of the valley, it is
calculated to excite both admiration and awe.
Willow Creek Park, or Willow Park, as it is sometimes called, lies due
south. It takes its name from the immense growth of willow bushes which
hide the ground from view, and monopolize the scenery and groundwork
entirely. None of these bushes can claim the right to be called trees,
as the average height is inconsiderable. But they make up in density
what they lack in altitude. The peculiar green of the willow is the
predominating color, without any variation of any kind. The idea
conveyed to the mind is of a huge green carpet or rug, and when the wind
blows freely across the valley, it divides up the bushes into little
ridges or furrows, which add to the uniqueness of the scene. Springs of
remarkably pure water, many of them possessed of medicinal power, abound
in this neighborhood, and tourists slake an imaginary thirst with much
interest at different ones of these.
The Obsidian Creek runs slowly through this valley. Obsidian Cliff is
the next object of special interest which is witnessed. It is half a
mile long and from 150 to 200 feet high. The southern end is formed of
volcanic glass, or obsidian, as true a glass as any artificially
produced. The roadway at its base is constructed across the talus, and
is emphatically a glass road. Huge fragments of obsidian, black and
shining, some of it streaked with white seams, line the road. Small
pieces are also plentiful. This flow of glass came from a high plateau
to the east-northeast. Numerous vent pits, or apparent craters, have
been discovered on this plateau. Mr. J. P. Iddings, of the Unites States
Geological Survey, who has made a special study of Obsidian Cliff,
contributes to the survey report for 1885-86 a paper that has in it much
that is of interest to the unscientific mind.
The Lower Geyser Basin is in some respects more pleasing than the
Norris, although the desolation is perhaps even more apparent. People
who have seen districts in which salt is made out of brine extracted
from wells, state that the appearance in the Lower Geyser Basin is very
similar to what is seen around manufacturing districts of that
character. This basin is in the valley of the Firehole River, a
strangely named stream, of a very beautiful character. In the basin
itself the branches of the Firehole unite, and with the Gibbon River
form one of the three sources of the Missouri, called the Madison, after
the President of that name. The Fountain Geyser is the largest in the
neighborhood, and is one of the best in the park. It is very regular in
its eruptions, and seldom fails to perform on time for the benefit of
the onlooker. It sends an immense volume of water into the air, and
resembles a fountain very closely. Its basin is very interesting, and
gives a good example of the singular deposits left by a geyser.
When the fountain is busy throwing out its volumes of water, the
appearance is very peculiar. Little notice is given of an eruption,
which takes place suddenly, although at stated intervals. All at once
the watcher is rewarded for his patience by having the stillness changed
into activity of the most boisterous character. The water is hurled
upwards in a mass of frothing, boiling and foaming crystals. The actual
height varies, but frequently goes as far as thirty feet. In a moment
the wall of water becomes compact, oblong and irregular. Crystal effects
are produced, varying according to the time of day and the amount of
light, but always delightful and peculiar.
Close at hand are the Mammoth Paint Pots, in the center of the Firehole
Geyser. We can explain the appearance of the Paint Pot or Mud Bath much
more easily than we can account for the phenomenon. It is well named,
because it resembles a succession of paint pots of enormous size more
than anything else that the imagination can liken it to. The basin
measures forty by sixty feet, with a mud boundary three or four feet
high on three sides of it. The contents of the basin have kept
scientists wondering for years. The substance is white, looking very
much like ordinary paint, but, unlike paint, it is constantly in motion,
and the agitation is so persistent that an idea is given that the Paint
Pot's basin is the bed of a crater. The continual bubbling and vibration
is very interesting in its effects, and the noise it makes is quite
peculiar, not unlike a subdued hiss or a badly executed stage-whisper.
Mixed among the white substance is a quantity of silicious clay of all
sorts and conditions of color. This produces a variation in the
appearance, but is merely in addition to what is otherwise marvelous in
the extreme. Pearl gray, with terra cotta, red and green tints is the
basic color of this boiling, seething mass, which seems to be
continually at unrest and in a course of worry.
The Excelsior Geyser is the most conspicuous feature of the Midway
Basin, a collection of hot springs and pools. They are situated in the
Midway Basin, and were originally called Cliff Caldron. Excelsior Geyser
is in a continual state of anarchy, without law, government or
regulation. It does just as it likes and when it likes. It seldom
performs when wanted to, but when it does break out into a condition of
fermentation, the effect is very magnificent. As one writer puts it, the
beauties and exhibitions of this geyser are as far superior to those of
all the others as the light of the sun seems to that of the moon.
The geyser was for years regarded as the grandest spring in the park,
before its exceptionally great features prevailed or became apparent. In
the years 1881-82, the eruptions from this geyser became so terrific
that it spouted water as high as 250 feet, and converted the generally
inoffensive Firehole River into a torrent of storming water. Rocks of
large size and heavy enough to be very dangerous were hurled headlong
from within the mysterious confines of the earth, and were dashed around
in all directions. For miles the terrific noise could be heard, and
people who had been waiting for a phenomenon of this character, hurried
across country to witness it. It is only now and again that a phenomenon
of this kind is repeated, and the most skillful geologists are unable to
give us any adequate forecasts as to when the next performance will take
place.
Rehearsals seem always in progress. Vast masses of steam rise from the
crater or hole. Many people crowd to the edge of the basin and strive to
penetrate into the mysteries of subterranean happenings. The day may
come when some scientific method of seeing through smoke and steam and
enduring scalding heat without difficulty may be devised. Until then the
mystery must remain unsolved.
In exact contrast with the irregular and spasmodic action of the
Excelsior, is the methodical, persevering action of Old Faithful. This
is another of the great and popular geysers of Yellowstone Park. It is
so uniform in its appearance that a man can keep his watch regulated by
it. Every sixty-five minutes the well-named geyser gives forth a
peculiar noise to warn the world that it is about to perform. Then for
about five minutes a vast stream of water and steam is hurled into the
air to the height of about 150 feet. The mass of boiling water measures
six feet in diameter, and the volume discharged exceeds a hundred
thousand gallons each hour. Day by day and hour, for nearly twenty
years, this industrious geyser has regularly done its duty, and afforded
entertainment for visitors. No one knows how long prior to that time it
commenced operations, or for how long it will continue.
Leaving for the moment the consideration of geysers and hot springs and
other wonders of this character, the sightseer gets a view of a very
different nature. At Keppler's Cascades the stage coach generally stops
to enable passengers to walk to the edge of the cliff and watch the
cascades and foaming river in the black cañon below. Then the journey
proceeds through the Firehole Valley, and through leafy forests and open
glades, until the narrow and tortuous cañon of Spring Creek is reached.
The scenery here is decidedly unconventional and wild.
We soon reach the summit of the Continental Divide. Now the outlook is
much expanded, and it becomes more majestic and dignified. The mountains
overhang the roadway on one side and drop far below on the other. Heavy,
shaggy forests cover the slopes and peaks, while tiny island parks, as
it were, and cheerful openings are occasionally seen. The road winds
about the mountain-flanks, now climbing up, now descending; the whole
aspect of nature grows more grand, more austere; the air grows more
rarified, and one becomes more and more exalted in spirit. Occasionally
the mountains break away and you obtain a view far out beyond the narrow
limits round about. Distant mountains are seen, and the feeling that
there are nothing but mountain-walls about you impresses itself strongly
upon one, and it is just about true. After several miles of such riding,
and when you have begun to imagine that nothing finer can come, the road
leads up to a point that, almost before you know it, simply drives from
your thoughts all else seen on this ride.
It is a wonderful picture, and produces a state of exultation that to
some must seem almost too strong to endure. The mountains, which rise
high above, stretch also far below, and in every direction are at their
very best. Proud and regal in their strength and bearing, they are
still, from summit to the depths, heavily covered with the primeval
forest. It would seem as if they really knew what a view was here
unfolded, and to rejoice in the grandeur of the scene. Like a thread,
you can trace the turns and lines of the road along which the stage has
come. But that which adds the softer, more beautiful element to a
picture otherwise almost overpowering in its grandeur, and withal stern
and unyielding, is seen through a break or portal off to the south.
Far away, far below, lies a portion of Shoshone Lake. Like a sleeping
babe in its mother's lap, nestles this tiny lakelet babe in the
mountains. It shines like a plate of silver or beautiful mirror. It is a
gem worth crossing a continent to see, especially as there runs between
the lake and the point of view a little valley dressed in bright, grassy
green as a kind of foreground in the rear. There is thus a silvered
lake, a lovely valley, with bright and warm green shades, and rich,
dark-black forests in the rear. No one can gaze upon such a combination
and contrast without being impressed, and without recognizing the
sublime beauty and grandeur of the park and its surroundings.
Yellowstone Lake is another of the extraordinary attractions of our
great National Park. It is described as the highest inland sea in the
world, and more than 7,000 feet above the sea level. It is, really,
nearly 8,000 feet above the sea, and its icy cold water covers an area
some thirty miles in length and about half as wide or about 300 square
miles. This glorious inland ocean is perched up at the summit of the
Rocky Mountains, just where no one would expect to find it. Several
islands of varying sizes are dotted over the surface of the water, which
at times is as smooth as a little mill pond, and at others almost as
turbulent as the sea. The shores are entirely irregular in their
formation, and Promontory Point extends out into the water a great
distance, forming one of the most peculiar inland peninsulas in the
entire world. Along the southern shore, inlets and bays are very
numerous, some of them natural in character, and others full of evidence
of brisk, and even terrific, volcanic action.
From the peculiar rocks and eminences along the shore, reflections are
cast into the water of an almost indescribable character. They are
varied in nature and color, and, like the lake itself, differ from
anything to be seen elsewhere. Another unique feature of this lake, and
one that has to be seen to be understood, is the presence on the banks,
and even out in the lake itself, of hot springs and geysers full of
boiling water and steam. Some of these springs have wide and secure
edges, or banks, on which a man can stand and fish. Then, on his right
hand, he has the icy-cold water of the lake, from which he can obtain
trout and other fish, until he begins to dream of a fisherman's
paradise. Dr. Hayden, the explorer, already referred to, was the first
man to take advantage of the opportunity and to cook his fish unhooked
in the boiling water to his left, merely making a half turn in order to
do so. When the Professor first mentioned this fact, he was good
humoredly laughed at, but, as stated in an earlier part of this chapter,
the possibility has been so clearly demonstrated, that people have long
since admitted as a possibility what they had first denounced as an
utter absurdity.