Chapter 7

Terry Engr. Co.U. S. Geological Survey of the Territories.Section of Amethyst Mountains.

Terry Engr. Co.

U. S. Geological Survey of the Territories.

Section of Amethyst Mountains.

The lava flows in this particular section do not seem to have been characterized by great heat. They were composed of volcanic agglomerate, in which there was a large admixture of mud and water, with sufficient heat to destroy life, but not to char or consume its products. The percolation of siliceous waters gradually turned the arboreal vegetation into stoneby the process of substitution, and thus preserved in these silent monuments a record of the events which once transpired there. When the last of the eruptions had ceased, there existed in this locality a vast depth of volcanicejectamenta, composed of many layers, on each of which was standing, buried in the layer next above, the trunks of extinct forest growths.

Terry Engr. Co.Haynes, Photo., St. Paul.Petrified Trees near Yancey's.

Terry Engr. Co.

Haynes, Photo., St. Paul.

Petrified Trees near Yancey's.

After the cessation of volcanic activity, the eroding agencies of the Quaternary Period carved out the valley of the Lamar River through these accumulated flows, and laid bare the remains of their vegetablegrowths. To-day the tourist may see upon the slopes of Specimen Ridge, side by side, the living and the dead, the little conifers of present growth and the gigantic trunks of unknown species which flourished there eons ago.

Some of the petrifactions are very perfect. Roots, bark, parts showing incipient decay, worm holes, leaves—all are preserved with absolute fidelity. The rings of annual growth may be counted, and these indicate for the larger trees an age of not less than five hundred years. Some of the stumps are fully ten feet in diameter. Here and there the ponderous roots stand imbedded in the rock face of the cliff, where erosion has not yet undermined them. In one case, a large tree that had fallen before petrifaction lies partly exposed, both ends being still imbedded in the rock. Some hollow trees show interiors beautifully lined with holocrystalline quartz.

How long it took each growth to reach maturity; how long it flourished afterward before destruction; and how long the several lava flows suspended vegetable growth; are matters largely conjectural. But at the very lowest estimate the time represented by these various accumulations can not be less than five thousand years.

That these early trees were of a different species from those which now flourish there, need not excite surprise, for climatic and other conditions are wholly changed. But an equal difference seems also to have prevailed between the successive growths, the trees of which were not only unlike each other, but nearly all were of species hitherto unknown to science. Fortunately the rare perfection of some of the specimens,particularly of the leaves and bark, have greatly simplified their classification, and have given valuable clues to their geologic age.

The products of these petrifactions in time strewed the surface of the ground with such an abundance of specimens as to give the locality its present name. Most of the lighter specimens, and some of the heavier, have been carried away.

Besides the general interest of these old forests to the casual observer, they are of great value to science, for probably in no other part of the globe can a similar chapter of its history be found more clearly recorded.

CHAPTER VI.

FAUNA OF THE YELLOWSTONE.

The universal curiosity of people to see what are popularly called wild animals, especially those larger species which never frequent the precincts of civilization, is a fact of which it is not easy to give a philosophical explanation. In this country the rapid disappearance, amounting almost to annihilation, of the large game is looked upon as a great misfortune; and in later years there has arisen a fixed purpose that protection shall be secured for the surviving remnants of those species which once with the red man held possession of the continent. The statutes of nearly every state give evidence of the universality of this sentiment.

As a means of accomplishing such a purpose, no institution promises to be more effectual than the Yellowstone Park. It ought, in this respect, to be a complete realization of Catlin’s dream. Its importance as a game preserve was recognized in the Act of Dedication, and has become more and more pronounced as acquaintance with it has increased.

The Park is fortunately better adapted for this purpose than any other tract of similar extent in America. It offers very little to tempt the cupidity of man. Its mineral wealth is buried so deeply under the lava that no miner will ever reach it. Its altitude and climate unfit it for agriculture. Its forests, though excellent for shade, are of little value for lumber. But as ahome for the native species of the continent, it possesses unrivaled advantages. These are admirably summed up in the following paragraph from the pen of Prof. Hague:

Terry Engr. Co.Haynes, Photo., St. Paul.Park Elk.

Terry Engr. Co.

Haynes, Photo., St. Paul.

Park Elk.

"The broad expanse of forest incloses sequestered nooks, and enticing grassy parks, with absolute seclusion in mountain recesses admirably adapted for the homes of wild animals. It is the great diversity of its physical features, offering within a restricted area. all the requirements for animal life, which fits it for the home of big game. Abundant food supply, shelter from wind and weather in winter, cool resorts on the uplands in summer, favorable localities for breeding purposes and the rearing of young, all are found here. The Park supplies what is really needed—a zoological reservation where big game may roam unmolestedby the intrusion of man, rather than a zoological garden inclosed by fences, and the game fed or sustained more or less by artificial methods."[AV]

[AV]“The Yellowstone National Park as a Game Preserve.” SeeAppendix E.

[AV]“The Yellowstone National Park as a Game Preserve.” SeeAppendix E.

Terry Engr. Co.Haynes, Photo., St. Paul.Park Buffalo.

Terry Engr. Co.

Haynes, Photo., St. Paul.

Park Buffalo.

It is a matter of profound regret that the many years of lax administration in the Park to a great degree nullified its purposes as a game preserve. Killing of wild animals was not absolutely prohibited until 1883, and the restricted license previously in force was shamefully abused. Some of the larger species were greatly reduced in numbers, while in a few instances they were practically exterminated. In later years, the elk, antelope, deer, bear and beaver, have rapidly regained their former numbers, and there is no reason to apprehend their extinction. There are now no fewerthan 30,000 elk in the Park. For the buffalo, mountain sheep, and a few other varieties, the prospect is good, though not so flattering. The number of buffalo does not probably exceed two hundred, and the possibility of their early extinction has led the Smithsonian Institution to allot a sum of money for the construction of a large inclosure in the Park, where at least a portion of the herd can be kept and be thus more carefully protected. Of the moose, mountain lion, wolverine, lynx, wild cat, marten, and otter the perpetuation is more doubtful. They were too much reduced in numbers during the game slaughtering era. The smaller species, such as porcupines, foxes, gophers, squirrels, woodchucks, and the like, flourish in great numbers.

The tourist often feels a keen disappointment in passing through the Park in that he does not see more game, and he not infrequently expresses positive doubts of its existence. He should remember, however, that it is the nature of wild game to shun the haunts of man. If he will remain for some time in the Park and will frequent those regions remote from the tourists routes he will see game in plenty. In one important instance he rarely goes away disappointed. Bruin generally accommodates him. The fine instincts of that intelligent brute have shown him that it is much easier to get a living from the refuse about the hotels than to forage for it in the wilds of parsimonious nature. Nightfall, therefore, always brings him about to the great delight of the game-seeking tourist. The incidents of each season to which these bears unwittingly give rise are among the amusing features of tourist life in that region.

The herbivorous game generally seek the seclusion of the hills in summer, but the deep snows of winter will not permit them to remain there. At that season they descend to the valleys, of which the most important are the Hayden, the Junction, and the Pelican Valleys, and those about the headwaters of the Snake River. The preservation of these tracts as a free winter pasturage is absolutely essential to the perpetuity of game in the Yellowstone Park.

Although an ornithologist, in passing through the Park, would report a list of native birds so extensive as to lead one to think that they abound in great numbers, there is really a noticeable absence of the winged tribes. There are birds, of course, but in numbers, variety, and beauty not to be compared with those in lower altitudes. The only varieties that would attract attention from any but specialists are the larger birds, which are often quite plentiful about the lakes. There are great numbers of pelicans, gulls, fish-hawks, and cranes, with now and then a wild swan. Eagles are not uncommon, while hawks, woodpeckers, and robins are frequently seen. The sharp-tailed or willow grouse is common, and in the fall of the year astonishing numbers of wild geese and ducks frequent the marshes. There are many other varieties, conspicuous mainly for their paucity of numbers.

Piscatorially speaking, the Yellowstone National Park has no rival as a paradise for the angler. The generous gift of nature and the admirable work of the United States Fish Commission, supplemented by the wise protection of the government, leave nothing to be desired by even the most devout follower of Isaak Walton.

Not all the streams of the Park were originally stocked with fish. Where the waters leave the great volcanic plateau and fall to the underlying formations, the cataracts form impassable barriers to the ascent of fish. In the lower courses of all the streams there were native trout, but above the falls, with one exception, there were none. The exception of the Yellowstone River and Lake is a most interesting one. Why the Falls of the Yellowstone, the highest and most impassable of all, should apparently have proven no barrier, is at first a puzzling question. But the solution is to be found in Two-Ocean Pass. Across this remarkable divide fish may easily make their way, and the Yellowstone Lake is unquestionably stocked from this direction. We thus have an example, probably without parallel, of an extensive body of water on the Atlantic slope stocked by nature with fish from the Pacific.

The trout of the Yellowstone Lake are to some extent infected with a disease which renders them unfit for eating. In earlier times particularly, this condition was generally prevalent. But more recently the disease seems to be disappearing, and in time it will probably die out altogether.

In 1889 and 1890, the United States Fish Commission undertook to stock all the fishless streams in the Park, and planted about 83,000 yearling trout in the various streams and lakes. The varieties were Brook, Lake, Loch Leven, and Von Behr trout. Recent examination of these plants shows that all have taken decisive root, and that within a few years there will not be a hidden stream or lake in the Park which will be without its attractions for the sportsman.

CHAPTER VII.

FLORA OF THE YELLOWSTONE.

The most conspicuous feature of the Park flora is the wide extent of forest growth which covers some eighty-four per cent of its area. This is the more noticeable because the surrounding country below the mountains is practically treeless. The Park forests consist almost exclusively of pine and fir. The trees are generally tall and slender and of little use for lumber. They are usually unattractive in appearance, although in some places among the mountains the spruce and fir attain a size, form and hue of foliage that are exceedingly beautiful.

Among the several species may be noted the following:

Black pine (Pinus Murrayana) so called from the dark hue of its foliage when seen in dense bodies.

Red fir (Pseudotsuga Douglasii) the largest variety in the Park, sometimes attaining a diameter of five feet.

Balsam (Abies subalpina). It flourishes near the snow fields and is the beauty of the forest.

Spruce (Pinus Engelmanni). Like the preceding it flourishes at high altitudes. It is tall and slender, and is good for lumber.

Red cedar (Juniperus virginiana) is found to a limited extent.

Poplar or aspen (Populus tremuloides) flourishes among the sheltered foot-hills.

Dwarf maple is occasionally found.

Willow thickets abound in great abundance.

Of these varieties the first is found more abundantly than all the others combined. In many places it has fallen down and strews the country to such an extent as to be absolutely impassable on horseback. There is very little timber of marketable value, and at first thought it would seem that nature has here lavished her energies in a most wasteful manner.

But the great value of these forest growths, is their agency in the conservation of a water supply for the surrounding country. A glance at the map will show that the Park is in the midst of a vast arid region extending far into the surrounding states. The reclamation of these desert wastes, and their conversion into productive lands, can be accomplished by irrigation alone, and for this purpose the abundant streams which descend from the mountains are the indispensable water supply.

From the summit of the Grand Teton, the range of vision covers probably the most remarkable group of river sources upon the earth. To the north rises the Missouri which flows three thousand miles through Montana, the Dakotas, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas and Missouri. To the east rises the Yellowstone, which, after leaving the Park, flows four hundred miles through southern and eastern Montana until it unites with the Missouri. From the eastern foot-hills of the Absaroka and Shoshone Ranges flow the Wind and Big Horn Rivers through the extensive valleys of the same names in Wyoming and Montana. Southwardly, across the Wind River Range rises the Platte which flows eastward eight hundred miles throughWyoming and Nebraska. From the west flank of these mountains issue the tributaries of the Green River (afterward the Colorado) which flows through Wyoming, Utah and Arizona into the Gulf of California. Finally, interlaced with the sources of the Yellowstone, and the Missouri, are those of the Snake River which flows through Wyoming, Idaho and Washington into the Columbia, and thus reaches the Pacific.

Not only do these streams rise in this limited area; they derive from it most of their waters. In the arid lowlands they receive but slight accessions, and often actually shrink under evaporation. It is therefore from a relatively small tract of country that the future water supply must come for portions of ten states in the great arid belt of the west.

The conditions which nature has established around this remarkable fountain-head are admirably adapted for the creation and maintenance of an unlimited water supply. Over an area of more than 5,000 square miles there prevails an average altitude of perhaps 7,500 feet; sufficient to insure enormous annual snowfalls, but not so great as to prevent their complete melting in summer. But, that they may not melt too rapidly, the whole region is covered with a thick forest growth cutting off the intense rays of the summer sun, and covering the ground with a vegetable mold through which the surface waters filter but slowly. It is a conservative estimate, based upon observations in connection with road work in the Park, that these forests prolong the melting of the snows from four to six weeks. This condition greatly lessens the liability to sudden floods, and maintains a generous supply of water far into the summer.

It has been estimated[AW]that from the Park alone, at low water, there flows per second 4,000 cubic feet of water. If the time ever comes when this supply is so far used as to threaten exhaustion, there will be found in the basin of Yellowstone Lake the most perfect facilities in the world for the construction of an artificial reservoir of almost limitless capacity at a comparatively insignificant cost. A dam could be thrown across the gorge at the first rapids in the Yellowstone below the Lake, and without injuring the natural condition of that region, could easily be made to quadruple the present capacity of the Lake.

[AW]By Dr. William Hallock, United States Geological Survey.

[AW]By Dr. William Hallock, United States Geological Survey.

The Park with its contiguous area thus presents magnificent possibilities in the development of the surrounding country—possibilities of which its founders little dreamed, but which they unconsciously foreshadowed when they declared that this region should be forever set apart for the “benefit” as well as for the “enjoyment” of the people.

Besides its wealth of trees, the Park produces other interesting flora. Interspersed among the forests and ornamenting the open glades are flowers and shrubs in endless profusion. We quote from the description of one of the early visitors:

"The choke-cherry, the goose-berry, the buffalo-berry, and black and red currants, are found along the streams and in moist places of the middle and lower altitudes. The meadows and hill-sides are spangled with bright-colored flowers, among which may be noted the bee-larkspur, the columbine, the harebell, the lupine, the evening primrose, the aster,the painted cup, the gentian, and various kinds of euphorbia. It is not uncommon to find daises, buttercups, forget-me-nots, white-ground phlox, and other field flowers flourishing in profusion near the melting snow banks during the month of August. Scarcely a night throughout the year passes without frost, even though the temperature by day is over 80 F., so that all forms of vegetation in the Park grow and bloom under somewhat unusual conditions. Indeed, when ice forms in the water-pails of camping parties during the night, as often happens, and the petals of the flowers become crisp with frost; even then the blooms are not harmed, but thaw out bright and fresh when the hot sun touches them."

The flowers form a most attractive feature of the Park, and give an interesting study of the way in which altitude and temperature affect well known varieties. It is only after a second look that one can trace in the mountain dandelion, huckleberry, and other species a resemblance to those of lower altitudes. The extreme shortness of the season causes vegetation to mature quickly, and before the flush of spring has disappeared from the leaves the palor of autumn makes its appearance.

The mountain grasses are generally abundant in the open country and even in many places among the forests. The writer just quoted says:

"The pasturage on the many open spaces is excellent, the mountain meadows being covered with a mat of nutritious grasses. The predominating variety is the bunch grass, upon which the horses of tourists generally subsist, keeping in good condition without the need of oats. Among other kinds, are the blue joint,fescue, and beard grasses, as well as Alpine timothy, all of which grow luxuriantly."

The early autumns tinge the foliage of the willow parks and other groups of shrubbery with a wealth of color not often seen elsewhere. Even the frost on the grass upon sharp mornings seems to have a peculiar beauty, and one may trace terrestrial rainbows in all the perfection of those set in the sky.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE PARK IN WINTER.

From the end of September to the end of May the Park is closed to the tourist; that is, the hotels do not receive guests, and camping is too precarious to be attempted. It is generally possible, however, to get into the Park as late as the middle or end of November, very rarely as late as Christmas. In May, the snowfalls are light, but the accumulations of the previous winter render traveling out of the question. With great difficulty the hotel company reaches its nearest hotels as early as May 16. Some of the roads remain impassable fully a month later.

What the fall of snow is in the upper Park has never been determined; but at Mammoth Hot Springs, altitude 6,200 feet, an average for six years, from November to April inclusive, is ten feet per year, with a maximum of fifteen feet and a minimum of five. But on the Park Plateau, 1,000 to 1,500 feet higher, the fall is certainly much greater. No doubt its light depth aggregates twenty feet. The weight of this snow often destroys the railing of bridges and injures the buildings of the Park.

The drifts accumulate in phenomenal magnitude. No matter how deep a ravine may be, the wind will pile the snow up in it until it is level with the surrounding country. Some of these drifts on the mountain sides are hundreds of feet deep and never entirely melt away. Even on the general plateauthey last until the middle of July. The Cañon Hotel is almost buried every winter. The snow actually reaches the second story windows, and the drift behind the hotel would last throughout the summer were its melting not facilitated by cutting it in pieces with shovels. It verily seems that all the conditions of climate here conspire to make this region one of the snowiest in the world.

Of course, general access to the Park under such conditions is wholly out of the question. Only on snow-shoes is it possible at all. The hotel company has a watchman at each of its buildings, who drags out a lonely existence through the two hundred days from November to May. He can talk over the telephone line with Mammoth Hot Springs, and at long intervals he receives a call, and perhaps mail, from “Telephone Pete,” who travels the line to keep it in order. In some places, also, small squads of soldiers are stationed for the winter.

The art of traveling by snow-shoe is a thoroughly interesting one, notwithstanding the fact that it is about the most difficult method of travel known and is rarely resorted to except from sheer necessity.

The instrument used in the Park for this purpose is called aski(pronounced skee). It is a long slender strip of wood—ash, Norway pine, or hickory—some twelve feet long, four or five inches wide, and just thick enough to give needed strength. About midway of its length is a strap through which the toe is slipped and by which the foot pulls theskialong. The bearing surface of the twoskisis about eight square feet, and holds the weight of the body even in soft snow without sinking more than a few inches.The bottom surface is polished smooth and then rubbed with a mixture of tallow and beeswax to make it free from friction. A pole is an important accompaniment, aiding to slide the traveler along and steady him on theskis. It also serves as a brake in descending steep hills, the traveler sitting astride it and bearing the rear end into the snow.

Down hill work is indeed glorious. No express train can rival theskifor speed. Its only drawback is danger of accident. On level countryskitraveling is simply walking on a board walk, except that the pedestrian carries the board with him, and makes and unmakes the road as fast as he goes. This is hard enough, especially if the snow is sticky, but when it comes to up hill traveling it is a truly laborious matter. If the hill is steep, there is danger of losing one’s grip on the snow and sliding backward down the hill. Where the ascent is too steep to work up by direct forward movement, “corduroying” is resorted to. The traveler works up sidewise, stepping up a foot or so with the upperskiand following with the lower. Generally this sidewise movement is combined with a slight forward movement, theskisbeing pointed up hill at as steep an inclination as they will hold.

The dress and equipment of the snow-shoe traveler are reduced to a minimum consistent with protection from the climate. This protection is really needed only at camping places, for the extraordinary exertion of traveling keeps the body in a continuous glow of warmth. Generally, warm woolen underwear, with canvas surface garments to keep out the wind and to shed snow, are the essential features of the dress. No overcoat is worn, but a tightly drawn belt takes itsplace. The feet are the weak point. “Natural wool socks, then a pair of Indian moccasins, then a pair of heavy gray army socks, then Arctic overshoes and leggings,” is the description of an equipment actually used. A broad hat is frequently worn to keep snow out of the neck, and colored glasses are indispensable to prevent snow blindness.

Baggage is limited to the strictest necessities, and is so packed that it will rest uniformly on the back from the shoulders to the hips.

No eating of snow or drinking of water can be safely indulged in whileen route. The traveler must go strictly “dry” between meals.

Terry Engr. Co. Haynes, Photo., St. Paul.Geyser Basins in Winter.

Terry Engr. Co. Haynes, Photo., St. Paul.

Geyser Basins in Winter.

Of course traveling of this sort is attended with much peril. A man must rely wholly on himself. No wagon or saddle is available if he is injured or sick. Heavy storms may blind him and cause him to lose his way. In short, a snow-shoe trip through the Parkis an undertaking which requires a vigorous physique, a determined will, and a good fund of courage. Very few, except those whose duty has required it, have ever made the attempt. But it is the unanimous verdict of those who have, that, glorious as the Park is in summer, it is even more glorious in winter. One can readily understand this to be so. Evergreen forests never appear to better advantage than when laden with snow. Ice formations always enhance the beauty of water-falls.[AX]The rolling open valleys of the Park must be doubly beautiful when robed in drifted snow. It is a pity that this silvery landscape should forever remain excluded from the general view.

[AX]For picture of Grand Cañon in winter, seep. 257.

[AX]For picture of Grand Cañon in winter, seep. 257.

CHAPTER IX.

THE PARK AS A HEALTH RESORT.

The climate of the Yellowstone National Park, to any one with a fair reserve of health, is of the most beneficial kind. The general public will be interested in the subject only as it relates to that season when it is possible to visit the Park.

For the six months beginning with May, the average temperature will not vary much from the following figures, Fahrenheit:

These temperatures are for Mammoth Hot Springs. For the Park Plateau they should be diminished by not less than ten degrees. No month of the year in that region passes without ice-forming frosts. It will be seen that during June, July, August, and September, the thermometer makes excursions to the neighborhood of the nineties. This, however, is only in the middle of the day, and is due to the direct intensity of the sun’s rays. No such heat pervades the general atmosphere. As soon as the sun is near setting, the temperature falls rapidly. The night temperature rarely gets above 55° or 60°, and averagesscarcely half as much. The Park is noted for its delightful sleep-giving qualities, which constitute no small part of its claim as a health resort.

Summer in the Park is comparatively short. It may not be strictly true that “the Park has only three seasons, July, August, and Winter,” but it is true that July and August are the only two months free from the ordinary characteristics of winter. Snows are frequent in June and September, while May and October are well on the snowy side of the year. July and August are the Park summer. The weather is settled. The air is pure and bracing and not too cold. The long imprisoned vegetation bursts suddenly into full life and beauty, and in a short period take place all the changes which require months in lower altitudes.

That there is life and health in that summer atmosphere, no one who has breathed it will deny. At the same time, as has already been hinted, it is healthful only for those who have some foundation to build upon. Persons suffering from any form of heart disease or advanced pulmonary trouble, or those greatly reduced in strength from any cause, would better stay away. The altitude and sharp air might prove too severe.

A matter which has naturally attracted considerable inquiry is the therapeutic value of the mineral springs of the Park. The superstitious faith in the efficacy of mineral waters to restore health, which has characterized mankind in all ages, caused the physically afflicted to hail the discovery of that region as the promised fountain of new life. The first explorers to ascend the Gardiner in 1871 found “numbers of invalids”encamped on its banks, where the hot waters from Mammoth Hot Springs enter the stream; and it is recorded that “they were most emphatic in their favorable expressions in regard to their sanitary effects.”

But this impression was very evanescent. No one now goes to the Park because of its mineral waters. Nevertheless, it would be wholly premature to assume that there is no medicinal virtue in them. Certainly there is in the Park almost every variety of mineral spring; there are abundant and luxurious waters for bathing; and it is not at all improbable that the opportunities afforded in this region may yet be utilized to the great advantage of the public.

But for health-giving qualities, the Park will never be dependent on its mineral waters. Its true value lies in other and more potent influences. The pure water of its snow-fed streams, the exhilarating atmosphere, the bracing effect of altitude, the wholesome fatigue of daily rambles over the rough, mountainous country, the fragrant odor of the pine boughs which every-where pervades the atmosphere, and, above all, the beautiful and varied scenery, which exalts the mind and diverts the attention from cares that are too often the real cause of physical ills—these are the true virtues of the Yellowstone Park as a health resort.

CHAPTER X.

ROADS, HOTELS, TRANSPORTATION.

The Park, as is well known, is a very extensive tract of country, and its various points of interest are widely separated from each other. The question of ways and means for getting comfortably through it is an all-important one. If the roads are bad, the hotels ill-kept, or the transportation uncomfortable, no amount of grandeur of natural scenery can compensate for these defects. In making a tour of the Park, the visitor travels not less than 150 miles, sometimes considerably more, and remains in the Park about one week. He is thus quite at the mercy of those who have the management and control of those matters which form the subject of this chapter.

The road system of the Park, when completed, will comprise a belt line, connecting the principal centers of interest; approaches, by which access may be had to the Park from different directions; side roads, leading from the main route to isolated points of interest; and trails, by which pack outfits can reach desired points to which regular roads will never be built.

The belt line includes Mammoth Hot Springs, Norris Geyser Basin, Lower Geyser Basin, Upper Geyser Basin, the Yellowstone Lake, the Grand Cañon, and Junction Valley. A cross-road passes from Norris to the Grand Cañon.

The approaches are not all yet selected, but in time there will be at least one on each side of the Park.

Trails are important adjuncts of the Park road system. They were long ago selected and opened up, and they are of great importance in patroling the Park. They are also much used by those tourists who remain for a considerable time.

The mileage of the completed road system will be about as follows:

In regard to construction, it is hardly necessary to say that nothing but the best macadamized roads should be built. The inherent difficulties of the work are great. The soil in many places is of the most wretched character. The country is exceedingly rough. The streams are almost without number. The snow lies on some of the roads until the middle of June. The mud in the wet season is bad, and the dust of the dry season is worse. The soft volcanic rocks, which so generally prevail, make poor road metal. But all these difficulties can be overcome, if Congress will but provide for a systematic completion of the project. At present, the annual allowance is too small to promise any thing like good work, and it will be many years before the hopes of the government engineers in the matter will be realized.

The work itself is as attractive as ever falls to the lot of the road engineer, and it is doubtful if another opportunity exists to develop a road system which, if properly done, will reflect so much credit upon thegovernment building it. It is used by visitors from all lands. It passes through every variety of scenery. It presents every known problem of road engineering. In short, it combines all the elements to make it, when complete, one of the noted highways of the world.

Terry Engr. Co.Gandy.Kingman Pass.(Showing roadway along side of cliff.)

Terry Engr. Co.

Gandy.

Kingman Pass.(Showing roadway along side of cliff.)

It is not impossible that the tourist may yet be carried by boat from the west shore of the Lake to near the head of the Falls, nor that a bridge worthy of its surroundings—an arch of the native rock so studied as to simulate a natural bridge—will span the river near the Upper Falls and give access to the many splendid views from the right bank of the Grand Cañon.

The tourist transportation of the Park is done mostly by coach, ordinarily with four horses each.Surreys and saddle horses are also provided when desired. The present system is the result of long development, and is very satisfactory. With proper roads, it would be all that could be desired.

Electric transportation in the Park has often been suggested, but there are certain grave objections, to be discussed in a later chapter, which will probably always prevent its introduction.

Terry Engr. Co.Haynes, Photo., St. Paul.Yellowstone Park Coach.

Terry Engr. Co.

Haynes, Photo., St. Paul.

Yellowstone Park Coach.

When the hotel system of the Park is complete, there will be no fewer than seven good houses and three lunch stations along the belt line and approaches. The hotels will be at Mammoth Hot Springs, Norris Geyser Basin, Lower Geyser Basin, Upper Geyser Basin, Yellowstone Lake, Grand Cañon, and Junction Valley. The present management of the hotels has developed into a very efficient system. It is conducted by a single company whose business headquartersis at Mammoth Hot Springs, from which point all supplies are shipped. A telegraph line connects it with points in the interior and with the outside world. The manager of each hotel knows in advance the number of guests he must provide for, and the convenience of the tourist is thus carefully arranged beforehand. With a reasonable extension and development of the present system, the Park will be admirably equipped in this respect.

Besides the regular tourists—those who make the usual trip, stopping at the hotels—there are hundreds who pass through the Park with camping outfits. During the months of July and August and early September, this is by no means an undesirable method. It is less comfortable, to be sure, than the ordinary method, but at the same time it is less expensive and more independent. In the latter part of August, the Park fairly swarms with these camping parties. They give the authorities plenty to do, for the danger of forest conflagrations from their camp fires is very great.

CHAPTER XI.

ADMINISTRATION OF THE PARK.

The administration of the Park is assigned by law to the Secretary of the Interior, who delegates his authority to a local Superintendent. By statute, also, the Secretary of the Interior is authorized to call upon the Secretary of War for such details of troops as may be necessary to protect the Park. Owing to the failure of Congress to provide for a civilian Superintendent and police force, since 1886, the Secretary of the Interior has found it necessary to avail himself of this second statute, so that the present working of the Park administration is on this wise:

An army officer, commanding the troops of the Park, is the representative of the Secretary of the Interior, and is called the Acting Superintendent of the Park, on the assumption that the oldrégimeof civilian Superintendents is only temporarily suspended. The Superintendent is charged with the enforcement of the rules and regulations provided for the government of the Park. As to all such matters, he receives his instructions direct from the Secretary of the Interior, and he annually submits to that official a report upon the condition of the Park. For a police force, he has two troops of cavalry, which he stations throughout the Park as necessity requires. He has also one civilian scout, paid for from the appropriation for the army, whose duty it is to patrol the 5,000square miles, more or less, in the original reservation and the forest reserve![AY]

[AY]A portion of the latest appropriation for the Park is authorized to be expended in the employment of additional scouts. This policy ought to be continued.

[AY]A portion of the latest appropriation for the Park is authorized to be expended in the employment of additional scouts. This policy ought to be continued.

The specific duties which form the burden of the Superintendent’s work are:

1. To see that all leases and privileges granted by the Secretary of the Interior to private parties are strictly observed, and that all business conducted in the Park is in pursuance of government authority and in accordance with specific conditions and limitations.

2. The protection of the Park from vandalism. This is a very important matter. The pardonable desire to carry off specimens from the beautiful formations, and the unpardonable craze to cover them with individual names, would, if unrestrained, soon quite destroy what nature, through long ages, has so laboriously produced.

3. The protection of game. All around the Park are hordes of law-breakers, who let pass no opportunity to destroy the surviving species. To avert this calamity requires the utmost vigilance of the Park police.

4. The preservation of forests. This has always been the most onerous and trying duty of Park officials. The importance of the forests is so far-reaching that their destruction would be a public calamity. No exertion can be considered too great which may prevent it.

5. The construction of roads and bridges in the Park.

Other functions which the Superintendent fills are the social duties of his position, which at certain seasons exact much of his attention. Official visitors depend upon him entirely for pilotage through the Park. Private parties bring letters soliciting favors, and on the whole he finds his time well occupied with these pleasant, though sometimes onerous, duties.

The office building of the Superintendent, who is also commanding officer of Fort Yellowstone, is at Mammoth Hot Springs. A pretty little garrison is built upon the white formation opposite the hotel, and in winter, the whole military force, except small detachments in various places, is gathered at that point.

At Mammoth Hot Springs are also located the post-office and jail, and at this point the judicial officers of the Park hold court to try offenses against the Park statutes and regulations.

CHAPTER XII.

A TOUR OF THE PARK.Preliminary.

In the following description there will be mentioned in succinct outline all the notable features of interest in the Yellowstone National Park. For more detailed information, the reader is referred to the list of names in "Appendix A."

The necessary limit of space forbids any thing like extended description, even if the inherent difficulties of such a task would permit. Captain Ludlow has well stated the nature of these difficulties:

“The Park scenery, as a whole,” he says, “is too grand, its scope too immense, its details too varied and minute, to admit of adequate description, save by some great writer, who, with mind and pen equally trained, can seize upon the salient points, and, with just discrimination, throw into proper relief the varied features of mingled grandeur, wonder, and beauty.”

Of the many who have attempted, with pen or pencil, to reproduce the wonders of the Yellowstone, no one has yet completely satisfied these important requirements. The writer, for his part, will modestly decline any such undertaking, and, like that pioneer explorer, Folsom, will confine his descriptions “to the bare facts.” He will, however, occasionally call to aid those who have seen and written of these wonders. To the early explorers, in particular, who entered this region before it became generally known,its strange phenomena appealed with an imaginative force which the guide-book tourist of to-day can hardly realize. This may account for the fact that some of these explorers, who have never, before or since, put pen to paper with any literary purpose in view, have left in their narratives strokes of word painting which the most gifted writer would find it difficult to excel.

The season selected for the tour will be the early days of July. The rain and snow and chilly air, not uncommon in June, are gone. The drought and smoke of August and September are still remote. Even mosquitoes, so amazingly plentiful at certain seasons (Langford found them on the very summit of the Grand Teton), have not yet made their appearance. It is late enough, however, to call forth in their richest glory the magnificent profusion of flowers which every-where abound in the Park. The air is at its best, full of life and energy, and so clear that it confounds distances and gives to objects, though far away, a distinctness quite unknown in lower altitudes. The skies, as they appear at this season, surpass the sunny skies of Italy, and the tourist will find in their empyreal depths a beauty and fascination forever lacking in the dingy air of civilization. In short, the open air stage trips through that rich mountain atmosphere will form one of the most attractive and invigorating features of the tour.

Without further preliminary, the rôle of guide will now be assumed, and the tourist will be conducted through the wonders of this celebrated country, following, over most of the distance, the present general route.

CHAPTER XIII.

A TOUR OF THE PARK.North Boundary to Mammoth Hot Springs.


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