By Enos A. Mills

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
Boston and New York

YOUR NATIONAL PARKS

JOHN COLTER, THE DISCOVERER OF YELLOWSTONE PARK

A Guide to the National Parks

YOUR
NATIONAL PARKS
BY
ENOS A. MILLS

WITH DETAILED INFORMATION
FOR TOURISTS
BY
LAURENCE F. SCHMECKEBIER
And with Illustrations and Maps

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1917

COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY ENOS A. MILLS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published June 1917

TO
GEORGE W. PERKINS
AND
WILLIAM A. WELCH
WHOSE STATESMANSHIP, ENERGY, IDEALS, AND COURAGE
ARE MAKING THE PALISADES INTER-STATE PARK
"THE GREATEST PARK IN THE WORLD"

PREFACE

St. Louis had a memorable "flag day" a little more than a century ago. Within twenty-four hours the yellow and red flag of Spain was run down and the tricolor run up; this hauled down and the Stars and Stripes run up. The Louisiana Territory thus became a part of the United States. In a flash, the western boundary of this country was changed from the Mississippi River to the Rocky Mountains.

Scarcely were the Stars and Stripes flying, before Lewis and Clark were on their way to explore the vast and mysterious Louisiana Territory—the West. Theirs was one of the most comprehensive and successful exploring expeditions on record—one of the greatest of outdoor expeditions. There were adventures and hardships, but after two years the party returned to civilization with the loss of only one man. The resources of the great West were definitely placed before the world.

This expedition revealed the extraordinary resourcefulness of Lewis and Clark and brought out also two other characters who are worthy of a place in American literature and whose achievements might well be a source of inspiration in American life. These are John Colter, who afterwards discovered the Yellowstone, and Sacagawea, the "bird woman." Sacagawea was the one woman of the Lewis and Clark expedition. She rendered remarkable service, and her name will be forever associated with exploration, with woodcraft, and with the National-Park wildernesses.

Just before the returning Lewis and Clark expedition reached St. Louis, it met trappers starting up the river—going into the great West. This was the real beginning of the trapping industry, which for nearly two generations was the dominating influence of the West.

The West was thoroughly explored by the trappers. In a number of States they formed the first permanent settlement. The trappers harvested the furs of lakes and streams throughout the mountains and built up the "Commerce of the Prairies." We are indebted to them for the Oregon and Santa Fé trails. All history shows no more picturesque or resourceful character than the trapper. Among them were such great men as John Colter, James Bridger, and Kit Carson.

The trapper was followed by the prospector. The trapper did not search for gold. The prospector did not look for furs or fertile lands. In a different way the prospector exploited the same territory as the trapper and thus placed the resources and the romance of the West before the public.

Closely following the trapper and prospector was that rugged and aggressive character, the cowboy. He had a definite part in the forward movement of the frontier. The cowboy cared nothing for furs, or gold, or fertile lands. He was interested in the rich grasses for his cattle. He, too, had his short day. These characters—the cowboy, the prospector, and the trapper—tarried for a brief moment on the frontier when the farmer, the first lasting settler, arrived. All these armed and vigorous people, the wearers of buckskin, were people of individuality and power. They made great changes throughout the West, and hastened its final development.

Pioneer men and women are among the great and influential figures in history. They were human, they were honorable, and we do honor them. They did not want or need sympathy. They were getting much, perhaps the most, from life; they were happy. We think of theirs as being a life of sacrifice, but it really was a life of selection. They were away from the crowd—from the enemies of sincerity and individuality. Of all people they were most nearly free. But the pioneers are gone.

The frontier no longer exists, and the days of the wilderness are gone forever. Yet, in our magnificent National Parks we still have a bit of the primeval world and the spirit of the vigorous frontier. In these wild parks we may rebuild the past, and in them the trapper, the prospector, the cowboy, and the pioneer may act once more their part in the scenes that knew them.

These wilderness empires of our National Parks have been snatched from leveling forces of development. They are likely to prove the richest, noblest heritage of the nation. Here the world is at play, here are scenes ever new and that will greatly help to keep the nation young.

In the words of John Dickinson Sherman: "It is as if Nature in these places had in self-defense devoted all her energies to scenery, proclaiming to the nation, 'Here I will make playgrounds for the people. Here is nothing for commerce or industry. Here is natural beauty at its wildest and best. Elsewhere man must live by the sweat of his brow. Here let him rest and play. Here I will rule supreme for all time.'"

There are seventeen National Parks. New ones will early be made and there are at least twenty other scenic regions which should at once be added. No nation has ever fallen for having too much scenery. Scenery is, indeed, one of our most valuable resources, and these Parks will enable us to build up a scenic industry of magnitude. Already they are being developed with roads and trails, and before long there will be in all of them hotels and camps for visitors of every taste, together with special camps and provision for school-children.

I have tried to describe a few of the wonders of the Parks and to suggest the larger, fuller use of them. Through most of the Parks described I have had happy excursions afoot, alone and unarmed. Not only do the Parks contain some of the world's sublimest and most beautiful scenes, but each Park is a wild-life reservation, a place where guns are forbidden. Thus protected, these wildernesses will remain forever wild, forever mysterious and primeval, holding for the visitor the spell of the outdoors, exciting the spirit of exploration. Within them will survive that poetic million-year-old highway, the trail. Among their pathless scenes wild life will be perpetuated. Chains of mountain-peaks will ever stand—"the silent caravan that never passes by, the caravan whose camel backs are laden with the sky"—with purple forests, mountain-high waterfalls, vast and broken cañons, wind-swept plateaus, splendid lakes, and peaks and glaciers often touched with cloud and sunshine.

Our National Parks will continue for generations to come to be the No Man's Land, the Undiscovered Country, the Mysterious Old West, the Land of Romance and Adventure. My great hope and belief is that they will become a marked factor in public education. Surely, these wonderlands mean much for the general welfare, and will help to develop greater men and women—to arouse enthusiasm for our native land, and for nature everywhere.

E. A. M.

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

The maps and bird's-eye view are used by permission of the National
Park Service, Department of the Interior.

Click on the map to enlarge it

By permission of the National Park Service, Department of the Interior

YOUR NATIONAL PARKS

YOUR NATIONAL
PARKS

I
THE YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK

1. A CAMP-FIRE THAT MADE HISTORY

On September 19, 1870, a number of men were chatting around a camp-fire in the wilds of northwestern Wyoming. They had been exploring the Yellowstone wonderland. They had seen the geysers,—little hot-water volcanoes,—the pools of boiling colored mud, the great petrified forest, and the golden cañon of the Yellowstone, into whose colored depths the snowy river leaps. The exploration was over, and the men were about to start for their homes.

A group were discussing how they might secure the ownership of this scenic empire. A monopoly of this wonderland would mean a fortune. The discussion was interrupted. Cornelius Hedges arose before the camp-fire. He said that private ownership ought never to be considered. This region, he thought, should be set aside by the Government and forever held for the unrestricted use of the people. The magnificent National-Park idea was thus born by a camp-fire in the wilds. The views of this statesman prevailed, and it was agreed that the park project be launched at once and vigorously pushed. And this was done. A few enterprising, aggressive men championed the measure so earnestly that the Park became a reality in less than two years after the idea originated.

This celebrated camp was near the junction of the Gibbon and Firehole Rivers, at the foot of what now is National Park Mountain. In 1891 I made a reverent pilgrimage to this historic spot. I am grateful to every one who helped establish the Yellowstone Park. I am glad that the idea of a National Park was a camp-fire thought.

The Helena (Montana) "Herald" of November 9, 1870, had an article by Cornelius Hedges, containing what is probably the first published reference to the park project. Honor must be given to David E. Folsom and a number of other individuals for publicly suggesting, independently, a similar idea. These suggestions, however, were barren of results.

In the course of that autumn a bold park campaign was begun by Nathaniel P. Langford, Cornelius Hedges, and William H. Claggett, who had just been elected Delegate to Congress from Montana. Langford lectured in behalf of the project before interested audiences in Minneapolis, Washington, New York, and elsewhere; and he and Walter Trumbull published magazine articles on the subject. Copies of Langford's article in "Scribner's Magazine" were placed in the hands of every Member of Congress.

Dr. Ferdinand V. Hayden, of the United States Geological Survey of the Territories, became interested in the cause, and rendered invaluable service. During the summer of 1871 he explored the Yellowstone region and took scores of photographs. In coöperation with others, he drew the bill for Congressional enactment, and marked the boundary lines of the Park. This bill was introduced in the House by William H. Claggett, December 18, 1871. Senator Pomeroy, of Kansas, immediately introduced the identical measure in the Senate. Claggett, Hayden, Langford, and others made a thorough canvass. Each Member of Congress was personally interviewed. The enthusiasm, intelligence, and sincerity of these advocates produced winning results. The question came to a successful vote in the Senate, January 30, 1872. Senator Cole, of California, opposed.

In the House, the Committee on Public Lands reported the bill favorably. Henry L. Dawes, of Massachusetts, championed the measure. It reached a vote, February 27, 1872, with the following result: yeas, 115; nays, 65; not voting, 60. The bill was signed by President Grant, March 1, 1872.

It is a remarkable fact that Congress should have thus created the Yellowstone National Park. Through the ages the privileged classes have had almost exclusive enjoyment of scenic empires. The campaign which brought about the creation of this Park was brief, intense, and unique. It was a genuine and epoch-marking achievement.

The National-Park idea has gone round the world. All leading nations now have national parks and are planning more. Time is likely to stamp our original legislation as one of the important acts of statesmanship. A few public-spirited men of vision began a revolution and triumphed. The anniversary of this event may some day be observed with world-wide celebration. People progress in the improvement of their playgrounds no less than in the ordering of their workshops.

Concerning this National-Park legislation, General Hiram M. Chittenden, author of "The Yellowstone National Park," makes the following comment:—

Perhaps no act of our National Congress has received such general approbation at home or such profuse commendation from foreigners as that creating the Yellowstone National Park. The lapse of time only serves to confirm and extend its importance, and to give additional force to the sentiment so well expressed by the Earl of Dunraven when he visited the Park in 1874: "All honor then to the United States for having bequeathed as a free gift to man the beauties and curiosities of 'Wonderland.' It was an act worthy of a great nation, and she will have her reward in the praise of the present army of tourists, no less than in the thanks of the generations of them yet to come."

It was a notable act, not only on account of the transcendent importance of the territory it was designed to protect, but because it was a marked innovation in the traditional policy of government. From time immemorial privileged classes have been protected by law in the withdrawal, for the exclusive enjoyment, of immense tracts for forests, parks, and game preserves. But never before was a region of such vast extent as the Yellowstone Park set apart for the use of all the people without distinction of rank or wealth.

It has been well said that "history is geography set in motion." And "Geography," says Kant, "lies at the basis of history." The peculiar geographic environment of the Yellowstone tract had a definite and striking influence on the early history of the region. It attracted few visitors and no settlers. To the pioneer and the Indian it offered few necessities, and these were almost inaccessible owing to climatic discomforts and difficulties of communication. Even to-day, for commercial use, the Yellowstone country would support only a sparse population.

But what formerly repelled now attracts. Time has brought changes. Congested population, the necessity for outdoor life, the destruction of most of the wild outing-places—these conditions have given to this and to other scenic mountain places a high economic value; likewise what may be called a nobler or higher value. Reserved and used as a recreation park by the public, it has become an economic asset of enormous importance. And through park use it conveys benefits to thousands.

Yesterday the Yellowstone environing factor arrested, deflected, and retarded the movement and the development of society. To-day it attracts, arouses, energizes, and ennobles a multitude.

2. THE DISCOVERY OF THE YELLOWSTONE

In the Yellowstone National Park—the first national park in the world—are so many natural wonders, of such unusual character, that not until the tract was discovered the sixth time were the American people convinced of its existence. Sixty-three years elapsed from the time of its first discovery to that of its recognition as an actuality.

The first two discoveries—they were made by trappers a generation apart—were laughed at and soon forgotten. The third, by prospectors, led to a successful private exploring expedition from Montana. This was followed by a larger and semi-official expedition, which also achieved its object. The sixth and last was an official discovery by the United States Government.

The Indians of the Yellowstone region knew of the present Park tract. They had a north-and-south trail across it, also one from east to west. To them it was the "Top of the World," the "Land of Burning Mountains," and the "Yellow Rock." But its wonders appear to have produced little or no impression on the Indians; there is an absolute dearth of myths, legends, and even of superstitions concerning it. To me this is remarkable. From every point of view the natives regarded the Yellowstone with indifference. Lewis and Clark daily questioned Indians concerning the character of the country, but the explorers heard nothing of the Yellowstone wonderland, although they passed and repassed within a few miles of it.

The Indians made scant use of this territory. In an average year the passes into it are blocked with snow for nine months of the twelve. Besides, it is mostly covered with a tangle of forests. In earlier days, living in it or traveling through it was difficult. Though filled with big game during the summer, at no time of year was it equal to the surrounding country as a hunting-ground.

John Colter, who first discovered the Yellowstone region in 1807, was a member of the Lewis and Clark expedition. He was a hunter and trapper, a master of woodcraft, and an outdoor man of the first class; at the time of the discovery he was thirty-five years of age, nearly six feet tall, and an athlete who could hold his own in the games of the trappers' rendezvous. His endurance, courage, and resourcefulness were marvelous. Neither wilderness nor hostile Indian had terrors for him. The five years that he spent in the Yellowstone region were so crowded with wilderness adventure that his name is immortal in the history of the American frontier. He obtained his release from the Lewis and Clark exploring party at a point on the Missouri River, some distance below the mouth of the Yellowstone, in August, 1806. He had served with the expedition more than two years.

With two trappers, Colter that year proceeded up the Missouri and spent the winter somewhere on its headwaters. The following spring he left his companions and started for St. Louis. After a solitary journey of about two thousand miles, he met Manuel Lisa, the celebrated trapper and trader, who, with a large party, was on his way to found a trading-post somewhere on the headwaters of the Missouri. Lisa persuaded Colter to turn back with him.

Strong is the lure of the wilderness. Although Colter had been away from civilization three years, and a triumphant welcome awaited his return, he again postponed the enjoyment of all that old friends and city attractions could offer, to resume the adventurous experiences of a trapper's life among hostile Indians in the wilds.

Lisa built a trading-post, Fort Manuel, at the junction of the Big Horn and Yellowstone Rivers, about two hundred miles southeast of the Yellowstone Park. From here, with a thirty-pound pack and rifle, Colter set off alone on a thousand-mile journey into the wilderness to tell the surrounding Indian tribes of this new trading-post.

He traveled a few hundred miles to the southwest without notable adventure. We now marvel at the results of this journey, for its discoveries put Colter in the front rank of geographical explorers on the American continent. He discovered the Wind River Range, Union Pass, Jackson Hole, Teton Pass, Pierre's Hole, and the Grand Teton. He was the first to see the headwaters of those two great rivers the Green Fork of the Colorado and the Snake Fork of the Columbia. These discoveries might well have been enough for any one man, but his greatest discovery was still before him.

Colter was with a band of Crows near Pierre's Hole when it was attacked by marauding Blackfeet. Of necessity Colter fought with the Crows, who were victorious. The Blackfeet blamed Colter for their defeat, and from this incident may have arisen the long-continued hostility of the Blackfeet tribes against the whites.

Again alone, Colter set forth from Pierre's Hole, St. Anthony, Idaho, and traveled straight across the mountains to Fort Manuel. A wound in the leg, which he had received in the fight with the Blackfeet, was not yet healed. The direct route that he took for his return may have been chosen as the shortest, but most probably was selected in order to avoid the Blackfeet.

The crowning achievement of this remarkable journey was the discovery and traversing of the Yellowstone wonderland. His course took Colter diagonally, from southwest to northeast, across what now is the Yellowstone National Park. He probably passed along the west shore of Yellowstone Lake, and may have followed the Yellowstone River from the lake to the falls. He saw numerous geysers, hot springs, paint-pots, and possibly Sulphur Mountain. He noted that numerous rivers had their sources in the Park and flowed from it in all directions, thus justifying the Indian name for the region, "Top of the World." After crossing Mount Washburn he probably forded the river near Tower Falls and then followed the east fork of the Yellowstone.

Colter arrived safely at Fort Manuel after a journey of about three hundred miles from Pierre's Hole and a round trip of about eight hundred miles. Aside from its geographical value, this was a remarkable wilderness achievement.

A little later came the most extraordinary chapter of Colter's adventurous life. In 1809, with a companion named John Potts, he was trapping beavers near the Three Forks of the Missouri. They were rowing up a small stream that flowed into the Jefferson River, the most western of the forks. At a point on this stream about five miles from the Jefferson, they heard a great trampling. High banks and brushwood shut off their view.

Presently about five hundred Blackfeet appeared on the banks and ordered them to come ashore. Escape was impossible. The two men had the hardihood to throw the beaver-traps overboard, hoping to recover them later. As the canoe touched the shore, an Indian snatched Potts's rifle from him. Thereupon Colter sprang ashore, wrested the rifle from the Indian, and handed it to Potts who immediately pushed off into the stream. Colter told him to come back and not to try to escape. An arrow whizzed by Colter, and Potts fell back in the canoe, crying out, "I'm done for!" as he shot an Indian dead. In an instant his body was filled with arrows.

The Blackfeet seized Colter and stripped him naked, then discussed methods of torturing him to death. They decided to set him up for a target, but the chief interfered—that was not exciting enough for him. Seizing Colter by the shoulder, he asked him if he could run fast. The question was greeted with howls of delight by the Blackfeet.

The chief led Colter out on the prairie about three hundred yards from the band, pointed in the direction of the Jefferson River, told him to save himself if he could, and cast him loose. Colter ran, the Blackfeet whooped and pursued, and the race for life was on.

The ground was thick with prickly pears that pierced Colter's bare feet. Nevertheless, he kept ahead of his pursuers. When about half the five miles to the Jefferson had been covered, he ventured to look back. The Indians were much scattered, and he had gained on the main body; but one Indian, carrying a spear, was close upon him.

Colter exerted himself to the utmost, and by the time he came within a mile of the Jefferson he was exhausted and blood from his nostrils had covered the front of his body. He stopped suddenly, turned, and spread out his arms. The Blackfoot, almost upon him, but also exhausted, attempted to stop and throw his spear, but he fell and the spear broke. Colter sprang upon him, seized the spear-head, pinned him to the ground, and ran on.

The foremost of the remaining Indians stopped by the fallen runner. When others came, they all set up a whoop and resumed the chase.

Colter gained the river-bank in advance of all his pursuers, just where there happened to be a large beaver house, standing partly against the bank and partly in the water. Knowing that the entrance to the house was at the bottom, under the water, he dived and succeeded in forcing his way to the floor just above the water-level.

Man fleeing from man has hidden in strange places, but it may be doubted whether one ever before sought safety in a beaver house of brush and mud!

Soon the Blackfeet were searching all over the place, "screeching like so many devils." They made search for the naked white man all the rest of the day. Apparently even their savage cunning never suspected the beaver house. Although they frequently clambered over it, they did not disturb it.

When night came and Colter could no longer hear the Indians, he swam downstream, gained the prairie, and headed for Fort Manuel, some two hundred miles away. Naked, with bleeding feet, he walked over prickly pears on the prairie and through snow in the mountains, which he crossed above the timber-line. The sun blistered him. Part of the time, he traveled by night and lay hid by day. He appears to have lived chiefly on the Indian-turnip (Psoralea esculenta).

Colter arrived at Fort Manuel in terrible shape. At first the men did not recognize him. He had been eleven days in making the distance between Three Forks and the fort.

That winter Colter had the courage to go back alone to the scene of his capture to recover his beaver-traps. Before he reached them he was ambushed by Blackfeet, but escaped. He returned to the fort, and the following spring he was with Pierre Menard at Three Forks when the place was successfully attacked by Blackfeet. Colter was among the few who escaped.

Pierre Menard wrote a four-page letter to his brother-in-law, Pierre Chouteau, and Colter started with it for St. Louis. With a companion, "Mr. William Bryant," he made the three-thousand-mile journey by canoe in thirty days. Upon his arrival at St. Louis, he reported to his old commander, William Clark; told him the story of his journeys, discoveries, and adventures, and gave him much material for his forthcoming map of the Lewis and Clark expedition. Clark traced on the map the route of Colter's Yellowstone Park journey and gave it the legend "Colter's Route of 1807."

There is nothing incredible about any of Colter's stories. His accounts of the Yellowstone region appear to have been remarkably true to fact. His escape from the Indians, and his various journeys, are experiences within the range of human achievement. His hiding in a beaver house is easily possible. His race and his naked journey across the mountains show the courage and hardihood of the frontiersman of the day. I have been over the place where he ran for his life from the Blackfeet and have followed his trail across the mountains.

Henry M. Brackenridge, the author of "Views of Louisiana, together with Journal," secured Colter's story at first hand, and he does it justice. John Bradbury, author of "Travels into the Interior of North America," did much important work in the Mississippi and Missouri Valleys in the years 1809-11. He also got Colter's story from Colter himself, and gives a careful account of the race for life with the Blackfeet. The account given by General Thomas James, in "Three Years among the Indians and Mexicans," is a third first-hand story of Colter's activities. Washington Irving was too good a literary craftsman to overlook Colter's story. In "Astoria" he retells the escape from the Blackfeet. General Hiram M. Chittenden gives full appreciation to Colter in his "History of the Early Western Fur Trade" and "The Yellowstone National Park," both standard works.

Nevertheless, St. Louis did not believe Colter. He told his travels, discoveries, and adventures, and the people laughed in derision. For two generations St. Louis mockingly referred to the Yellowstone wonderland as "Colter's Hell."

Colter married and went to live near Daniel Boone at La Charette. He declined to join the Astoria expedition, and this is the last heard of him. He may have died shortly afterwards; or it is possible that, because of unjust public opinion, he may have moved into seclusion. At any rate, the later years and the burial-place of the first discoverer of the Yellowstone National Park are unknown.

Colter's story is a wilderness story of supreme character. It is full of the vigor and independence of outdoors. Colter is an heroic and picturesque figure in national history. I wish every boy and girl in the land could read his adventures.

The second discovery of the Yellowstone site was also made by a trapper. James Bridger, of Fort Bridger fame, was there in 1830, but his description of its wonders was laughed at as "just another of old Jim Bridger's good yarns." Between 1830 and 1843 the region was visited by many trappers and traders, and its wonders were common knowledge to the plainsmen of the Missouri Valley. Some accounts got into print. Nevertheless, the Yellowstone was no more real to the American of that generation than was "Colter's Hell" to the generation before.

Trapping began to fall off. The Mexican War and the California gold excitement led public attention away from the Yellowstone country, and by the beginning of the Civil War it was as completely forgotten as if it had never been known.

It was the prospector who gave the Yellowstone tract to the world for the third time. By 1865, reports of its wonders had been spread far and wide by prospectors attracted to the region by the Montana gold excitement. At last Montana became mildly curious over these reports. In 1869, David E. Folsom, C. W. Cook, and William Peterson visited the region. They told enough to bring about the organization of a large semi-official expedition.

This Yellowstone expedition (1870) is known as the "Washburn-Doane Expedition," and from it dates the latter-day history of the Park. Lieutenant Gustavus C. Doane, Second Cavalry, U.S.A., with a sergeant and four privates was detailed from Fort Ellis to escort the expedition. Among its nine civilians were General Henry D. Washburn, Surveyor-General of Montana; Nathaniel P. Langford, author of "Vigilante Days and Ways" and first superintendent of the Park; Cornelius Hedges, who first proposed setting apart the region as a National Park; and Samuel T. Hauser, president of the First National Bank of Helena, and later Governor of Montana.

So skeptical was this party that when the steam of Old Faithful was first seen through the woods it was believed to be a forest fire.

Mr. Hedges subsequently said, "I think a more confirmed set of skeptics never went out into the wilderness than those who composed our party, and never was a party more completely surprised and captivated with the wonders of nature."

Through the press and lecture-platform, the Washburn-Doane expedition spread the knowledge of its discoveries broadcast over the country. The direct result of its work was that the United States Government sent an official expedition to the Park the next year. This was a joint expedition made up from the Engineering Corps of the Army and from the United States Geological Survey of the Territories. The official United States Government expedition of 1871 officially put it on the map, with official scientific notes and photographs. Thus the sixth discovery of this wondrous region, after two generations of unbelief, convinced the people that it existed!

During these two generations the unexplored wilderness of the Louisiana Purchase had been formed into seven new States of the Union, containing more than five million people. And "Colter's Hell," when its existence had been finally and officially established, was within two hundred and fifty miles of a transcontinental railroad.

3. THE GEYSERS, LAKES, AND STREAMS

Water in numberless pleasing forms is one of the attractive features of the Yellowstone Park. There are snowy waterfalls that leap in glory. There are geysers—transient, towering, fluted—with white columns draped with steam. Both the geysers and the waterfalls bring the rainbow to them; or, the prismatic springs go to the rainbow for their colors. The cascades have all the excitement of ocean breakers. The lakes mirror the clouds, and their placid bosoms reflect the stars that are "in the quiet skies." There are streams that wind and linger, and brooks that go on forever. There are hot springs and cold, large springs and small, each with its own attractive setting. Many burst through the roofs of caves; others gush from grottoes; still others pour forth from mounds and columns.

The quiescent springs and prismatic pools have a delicate, exquisite, gemlike beauty unlike anything else in the world of nature or of art. The waters are soft blue. Changing lights tinge the water with iridescence; touch its surface with soft luminosity; give to moulded and sculptured basins a refinement of coloring that transcends belief.

Dr. Ferdinand V. Hayden gives this glowing description:—

The wonderful transparency of the water surpasses anything of the kind I have ever seen in any other portion of the world. The sky, with the smallest cloud that flits across it, is reflected in its clear depths, and the ultramarine colors, more vivid than the sea, are greatly heightened by constant, gentle vibrations. One can look down into the clear depths and see with perfect distinctness the minutest ornament on the inner sides of the basin; and the exquisite beauty of the coloring and the variety of forms baffle any attempt to portray them either with pen or pencil.

These waters repose in basins that have in miniature all the beauty of the Mammoth Cave. The basins and their rims are formed of minerals—mostly of silica—deposited by the water. The rims are fittingly beautiful; the lines of internal construction are harmonious. Many springs have built up their basins with precipitated minerals until they rest on mounds. All these are picturesque, and some are beautiful.

MAMMOTH HOT SPRINGS
YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK

Morning-Glory Spring is like a gigantic morning-glory set in the earth. The Firehole, with a black fissured bottom, has at times flamelike colors which create such an illusion that the fiery interior of the earth appears to be on exhibition.

Prismatic Lake, a spring large enough to be called at least a lakelet or pond, is a combination of the artistic and the spectacular. It has built up for itself a rounded mound, and down the gently curving slopes flow its waters in thousands of interlacing rivulets. Over the pool hangs a cloud of steam, often tinted red by reflection from the waters below.

At Mammoth Hot Springs, close to Fort Yellowstone, the water bursts from the mountain-side with an enormous mineralized flow. Here lime in solution is quickly precipitated, forming basins and terraces and slopes of exquisite design, the whole adorned with intricate and fantastic fretwork of pink, brown, yellow, and white.

While the deposits here are chiefly lime or travertine, those of the geysers and of the other hot springs are silica. The two kinds of deposits differ greatly. The Mammoth Hot Springs' deposits are soft and frequently change their form. The silica deposits of the geysers are hard as flint. Without this hardness, the geyser action would be impossible, as the lime and travertine formations would not withstand the explosive violence. A curious fact in this connection is that the color in and around the geysers and hot springs is in part due to the presence of algæ, a minute vegetable growth.

The geyser is one of Nature's strangest freaks. These in the Yellowstone Park are the largest, most spectacular, and most artistic in the world. The geyser may be described either as a large intermittent hot-water fountain or as a small water-and-steam volcano. There are scores of these eruptive springs in the Yellowstone, and their irregularities form part of their fascination. The place and method of applying the heat, the diameter and shape of the tube, and the point of inflow and the quantity of the water are all matters affecting their activities. Apparently they, as well as the springs in general, have no underground interconnection, since the play of one geyser has no effect upon others close by.

The eruptions are irregular as to intervals. Black Warrior and Hurricane do a continuous performance. Constant pauses from twenty to fifty-five seconds between gushes. Grand is active at intervals of from one to four days, and Turban plays intermittently for twenty-four hours following Grand. Giantess rests from five to forty days at a time. Lioness played once in each of the years 1910, 1912, and 1914. Splendid, which formerly threw a ten-minute gush to a height of two hundred feet, has not played since 1892.

There is equal variation in the duration of the gush. The Minute Man's activity lasts but from fifteen to thirty seconds. Giant stops work promptly at the end of an hour. Giantess, after her long rest, plays from twelve to thirty-six hours.

The quantity of water erupted varies from a few gallons in the small geysers to thousands of barrels in the large ones. The water is generally thrown vertically, though some of the tubes lie at an angle. The Fan, as its name suggests, throws its water in a fan-like shape.

Geysers vary in the height of their gush as in everything else, and the gush of each is seldom twice the same. Jewel varies from five feet to twenty, and Great Fountain from seventy-five to one hundred and fifty feet.

The highest stream is thrown by Giant, which has a minimum of two hundred and a maximum of two hundred and fifty feet. Excelsior, which sometimes threw its water three hundred feet into the air, has not played since 1888.

OLD FAITHFUL GEYSER
YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK

This geyser action is novel, picturesque, and weird. It appeals to the imagination. It goes on day and night, summer and winter, throughout the years. While many of the geysers are comparatively new, others are centuries old. Some may have been playing since prehistoric times.

Old Faithful, in the Upper Geyser Basin, is in most respects the most wonderful geyser in the Park. Its action is almost uniform; its usual interval is seventy minutes. It plays for four minutes and sends its water up from sixty to one hundred and twenty feet. It gives ample warning before each play and gets into action by sending its water higher and higher with graceful ease.

But in some particulars Great Fountain, in the Lower Geyser Basin, may be put at the head of the geyser list. Its waters issue from a vast low mound, and the basin has attractive ornamentation. It spouts an enormous volume of water, sometimes to a height of one hundred and fifty feet, and plays from forty-five to sixty minutes, at intervals of eight to eleven hours.

Castle Geyser, in the Upper Geyser Basin, throws only a moderate gush about seventy-five feet in height, but it has built up a most imposing crater. It is quiet for from four to seven days; it then plays three or four times at half-hour intervals.

Other geysers that the visitor may well see are Grand and Beehive, both in the Upper Geyser Basin. Grand plays for about an hour at intervals of from one to four days and throws a column of steaming water smoothly to a height of two hundred feet. Of all the geysers, Beehive perhaps approaches nearest to artistic perfection. From a small, beehive-like mount it sends up a slender column of water vertically and symmetrically two hundred feet.

Yellowstone Lake lies at an altitude of 7741 feet above sea-level. Its area is about one hundred and thirty-nine square miles, and its irregular shore-line has a length of one hundred miles. In places the lake is three hundred feet deep. There are thirty-six other lakes, of which Shoshone, Heart, and Lewis are the largest. Each has its own peculiar and delightful wilderness boundary and beauty.

There is a close network of streams, of which one hundred and sixty-five have names. Among the more important are Yellowstone, Lamar, Snake, Gardiner, and Firehole Rivers. There are numerous waterfalls and cascades. The extensive water-flow abundantly supplies the headwaters of the Missouri, Yellowstone, and Snake Rivers. In Two Ocean Pass, among other places, is a lakelet upon the very summit of the Continental Divide whose waters flow to both the Atlantic and the Pacific. The altitude here is 8150 feet, and the lakelet completes a continuous waterway of nearly six thousand miles from coast to coast.

A map that I carried showed Two Ocean Pond on the Continental Divide to the west of the Thumb. There is a Two Ocean Pond on the Divide at that place as well as one to the south of the lake. But my map did not show that the Divide was horseshoe-shaped, and it located the pond on the wrong arm of this horseshoe. Consequently I had a long search before I found the pond, and much confusion with the topography and watersheds after I had discovered it.

One day in 1891 I had the good fortune to come upon General Hiram M. Chittenden. He was directing the cutting of trees at a place that has since become famous as Lake View, from which, perhaps, the best view of Yellowstone Lake is to be had. General Chittenden spent many years in the Park and developed its existing scenic road system. He was the first to propose that the excess of elk and other game in this and other parks be distributed over the country at cost.

What is the greatest feature in this wonderland whose history began at a camp-fire? The Lower Falls thrilled me more than any other waterfall I ever have seen. The Yellowstone Cañon may be called the greatest attraction in this Park. But to me the supreme attraction is the petrified forests.

4. AGES OF FIRE AND ICE

The Yellowstone plateau is a vast lava-deposit. Its material is mostly volcanic, but its landscape—its architecture—is largely glacial. In ages remote, this realm became the scene of volcanic activity. Intermittent outpourings went on through long periods of time. Volcanoes in and near the Park threw forth quantities of ashes, lava, and cinders, which built up a plateau region three or four thousand feet thick. Rhyolite and other forms of lava were last spread over the region. This volcanic activity appears to have ended before the last ice age. No eruption has occurred for centuries. The ice age wrought vast changes in the volcanic landscape. The ice smoothed wide areas, shaped cañons, and rounded mountain-sides, produced and spread soil, and gave the entire region the flowing, attractive lines of glacial landscape.

On the rim of the Yellowstone Cañon, about three miles below the falls, an enormous glaciated granite boulder reposes upon lava—rhyolite. It measures about twenty-four by twenty by eighteen feet. It was transported to this resting-place from mountains more than thirty miles away. Here we have a stone foundation laid by volcanic fire, and upon it a stone, shaped, transported, and placed by glacial ice.

There are about three thousand geysers, hot springs, and mud-and-water springs in the Park; and as many other vents of steam, acid, and gas. That the geysers have been active in this region for thousands of years is shown in the deep deposits of silica and travertine that overspread extensive area. During the ice age many of these deposits were eroded and others were piled with boulders. It is plain that steam and hot water had been at work long before the last ice age came. During the ice period, a wild conflict probably took place between the deep outspread ice and the insistent eruptions of steam and hot water.

The surface of Yellowstone Lake once stood about one hundred and eighty feet higher than it is at present. Its outlet was then through the Snake River to the Pacific Ocean. The Continental Divide then passed over the summit of Mount Washburn. Unwritten as yet is the splendid geological story of this change, which may have been caused by earthquake upheaval or by subsidence. It appears to have occurred about the close of the last glacial epoch. Possibly ice dammed the narrow gorge of Outlet Creek, through which the waters of the lake formerly flowed to the Snake River. Whatever the cause, its outlet waters changed and eroded the now famous and splendidly colored cañon of the Yellowstone.

This is the most celebrated cañon in the Park, and its colors make it one of the most gorgeously startling in the world. At bright noonday, it is adorned with all the hues of the sunset sky. Its precipitous walls are comparatively free from vegetation and are broken with pinnacles and jagged ridges. About fifteen hundred feet below the edge, the rushing waters of the Yellowstone River take on various shades of blue and green between accumulations of gray foam.

Into the upper end of this cañon the river, about seventy feet wide, makes a sheer leap of three hundred and ten feet. From the near-by rim, this wonderful waterfall appears like an enormous, fluffy, endless pouring of whitest snowflakes. The magnificence and wildness of its setting combine to make it one of the most imposing waterfalls in the world.

Copyright by Haynes, St. Paul

The paint-pots are the curiosities of the Park. They are craters, or irregular-shaped ponds, in the earth, filled with brightly colored mud, thick and hot, of fine texture, and in appearance resembling kalsomine or paint freshly mixed and colored. The mud in many pots is red or pink; that in others is lavender, blue, orange, or yellow. Occasionally a rugged vat of this mud is found boiling away—very suggestive of slaking lime. In other cases, plastic mud throbs and undulates as steam-jets now and then escape through it. Here and there this bright steamy mud opens like a full-blown lily. The paint-pots near the Fountain Geyser, those east of the road in Gibbon Meadows, and those close to the lake at the Thumb are the more attractive.

John Muir, in "Our National Parks," says of the Yellowstone:—

Beside the treasures common to most mountain regions that are wild and blessed with a kind climate, the Park is full of exciting wonders. The wildest geysers in the world, in bright, triumphant bands, are dancing and singing in it amid thousands of boiling springs, beautiful and awful, their basins arrayed in gorgeous colors like gigantic flowers; and hot paint-pots, mud springs, mud volcanoes, mush and broth caldrons whose contents are of every color and consistency, plash and heave and roar in bewildering abundance. In the adjacent mountains, beneath the living trees the edges of petrified forests are exposed to view, like specimens on the shelves of a museum, standing on ledges tier above tier where they grew, solemnly silent in rigid crystalline beauty after swaying in the winds thousands of centuries ago, opening marvelous views back into the years and climates and life of the past. Here, too, are hills of sparkling crystals, hills of sulphur, hills of glass, hills of cinders and ashes, mountains of every style of architecture, icy or forested, mountains covered with honey-bloom sweet as Hymettus, mountains boiled soft like potatoes and colored like a sunset sky.

I had lively scrambles and saw much petrified wood in the rough mountainous country at the northwest corner of the Park. But the roughest and most scenic section visited was around Sylvan Pass. This rugged, narrow pass cuts through high, crowding mountains. To the north, Hoyt Mountain and Avalanche Peak rise precipitously; to the south, Grizzly and Top Notch Peaks. Sylvan Lake, whose peculiar wild beauty is unexcelled, is near this pass. The tree-sprinkled, grassy section near the Lamar River, in the northeast corner of the Park, was the most charming and parklike section visited.

The Grand Teton, a peak of towering, bold individuality, looms imposingly as seen from various points in the Park. Its appearance across Yellowstone Lake, from a point near the outlet, is magnificent. Another excellent view of it is obtained from the stage-road midway between Upper Geyser Basin and the Thumb.

The Grand Teton territory might well be added to the Park; likewise a stretch of the rugged, mountainous territory lying along the southeast corner, and the mountainous tract immediately west and north of the northwest corner of the Park. All these belong to reserved government lands, and could without difficulty be administered as a part of this wonderland.

5. THE PETRIFIED FORESTS

Volcanic outpourings have ended the life of many extensive Yellowstone forests. In Amethyst Mountain are twelve forests, one above the other, buried at different periods by volcanic eruptions. On top of this mountain the pines and spruces are merrily growing, unmindful of the buried past—of the tragic tree history beneath. Nature forgets. Ages ago, the lowest of these entombed forests grew on the mountain plateau in the sunlight. But a flow of volcanic mud and heavy showers of ashes overwhelmed and buried it, with the trees standing erect.

This volcanic material added a layer to the plateau. In the new surface above the buried and forgotten forest, another tree growth flourished and towered. But the volcanoes only slept. Again their fire and ashes filled the sky, and again the forest was overwhelmed. Thus through the ages—through "a million years and a day"—each time the volcanoes slept the pines peeped up, and again their shadows fell upon the desolate lava landscape.

PETRIFIED FORESTS IN AMETHYST MOUNTAIN
YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK

At last, twelve or more forests were buried, each as it had stood upon the mountain, and in a layer by itself. The material in these numerous fateful volcanic outpourings raised the summit two thousand feet.

It may be that the topmost of these petrified forests was overwhelmed by the Ice King, but a volcano entombed the others. All were petrified, fossilized, or opalized. During the ages that went by, the Lamar River and other factors eroded a wide valley and excavated the edges of these forest ruins.

This reveals one of the most appealing geological stories ever uncovered—twelve illustrated but unwritten chapters of world-building.

The strata of these twelve forests, story above story, show their edges in the precipitous northern face of Amethyst Mountain. Thousands of logs and stumps still partly buried jut and bristle.

Apparently there is an enormous area of these buried fossil forests in the northeast part of the Park, and perhaps numerous areas elsewhere in the region. They are also known to exist near the northwest boundary of the Park.

Mineralized water circulated through and gradually fossilized the buried trees, changing many to opal. In due time the mud and ashes that buried these trees also turned to stone. Limbs and tops of trees were broken off by the ashes, cinders, and mud that buried each forest. Many tree-trunks were overthrown, but great numbers were entombed as they stood. They are from one to ten feet in diameter, and some were of great height. Many of the remaining stumps project forty feet.

Much of the opalized wood is very beautiful. The change brightened and intensified the former texture of the wood. In most of these stone trees and logs the annual rings show clearly. They distinctly reveal the age of the tree and its rapidity of growth. In many cases the species is readily determined. Strange stories are told by the fallen logs, in many of which old worm-holes show. The half-decayed logs were preserved in their original form, and in the process of fossilization their hollow interiors were filled with beautiful rosettes and crystals.

Each of the buried forests contained some trees of different species from those in the forest just beneath it. Altogether, more than eighty kinds have been recognized. Many of these would grow only in a mild or subtropical clime, so the former climate of this region must have been warmer than at present. Among the trees were redwood, cottonwood, walnut, pine, oak, sycamore, fig, magnolia, and dogwood.

Ancient Troy was nine ruined cities deep. But here in a national playground of our own country are twelve tree cities in ruins, one above another, and topped with a city of living trees. Like the excavated ruins of Pompeii, these ruined forests set one's mind to exploring the realm of imagination. Here in a subtropical clime, possibly a million years ago, was a luxuriant forest. Beneath was a crowded undergrowth of plants, of shrubbery and waving ferns. Gay butterflies may have flitted here in the golden sunshine. Trees enjoyed the storms and lifted their heads serenely into the light. Then came the tragic end. Twelve times or more was this impressive drama reënacted.

Trees, like men, often rear their structures upon the ruins of those that have gone before. This is an old, old world. In the words of Omar,—

"When You and I behind the Veil are past,
Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last."

Is the volcanic curtain once more to fall upon the forests of this magic scene?

In "Our National Parks" John Muir comments eloquently upon the fossil forests and the telling background of most Yellowstone landscapes. He says:—

Yonder is Amethyst Mountain, and other mountains hardly less rich in old forests, which now seem to spring up again in their glory; and you see the storms that buried them—the ashes and torrents laden with boulders and mud, the centuries of sunshine, and the dark, lurid nights. You see again the vast floods of lava, red-hot and white-hot, pouring out from gigantic geysers, usurping the basins of lakes and streams, absorbing or driving away their hissing, screaming waters, flowing around hills and ridges, submerging every subordinate feature. Then you see the snow and glaciers taking possession of the land, making new landscapes. How admirable it is that, after passing through so many vicissitudes of frost and fire and flood, the physiognomy and even the complexion of the landscape should still be so divinely fine!

6. AREA; TREES, FLOWERS, AND ANIMALS

The Yellowstone Park is about equal in area to Delaware and Rhode Island combined. It has 3300 square miles. The average altitude is 7500 feet, while numerous peaks rise from 1000 to 3000 feet higher. Forests cover 85 per cent of the area.

The largest parklike grassy space in this forested realm lies to the northeast of Mount Washburn, along the valleys of the Yellowstone and Lamar Rivers. This open space is about twenty-five miles long and from five to ten miles wide. The second largest area of grassy country, Hayden Valley, lies several miles to the north of Yellowstone Lake. Among other open spaces are Swan Lake Flat, Gibbon Meadows, Pelican Valley, and the small ragged areas around the Firehole Geyser Basin and Shoshone and Lewis Lakes.

Among the trees are the quaking aspen, Douglas spruce, Engelmann spruce, and subalpine fir. The overwhelming proportion of these forests, however, consists of that interesting tree, the lodge-pole pine. It bears seed every year, beginning while young and small. It hoards its seeds by keeping its tightly closed cones. When fire sweeps through a forest of lodge-pole pine, it kills the trees and melts the sealing-wax of the cones, releasing the seeds. These seeds fall upon shadeless, ash-covered ground, under conditions most favorable to their germination and growth. The lodge-pole pine is Nature's selected agent for reforestation.

The Yellowstone is a wild-flower garden. Wander where you will, you have the ever-new charm, the finishing touch, the ever-refreshing radiance of the wild flowers. Many are brilliantly colored. There are species of gentians, lupines, and pyrolas. The columbine is there in all its graceful beauty. The wild rose abounds. The Indian paintbrush perhaps is most abundant. The pentstemon is common. There are two species of orchids.

The Yellowstone is the greatest elk-range in the world. It has a numerous grizzly-bear population. In fact the park has so large and varied a population of birds and wild animals that in most respects it is the greatest wild-life preserve in the world.

7. ENTRANCES

To the Yellowstone wonderland there are four entrances. The Northern Pacific touches the northern entrance at Gardiner, Montana. This route is through the Gardiner Cañon to the Mammoth Hot Springs at Fort Yellowstone.

The western entrance is from the Union Pacific at Yellowstone. This route takes the visitor directly to the central geyser basin of the Park.

The eastern entrance is from the Burlington at Cody, the road passing the Shoshone Dam, crossing the Absaroka Range at Sylvan Pass, and making connection with the Park routes at the Lake Hotel.

The southern entrance is from the Jackson Lake and Teton Mountain region and makes connection with the Park routes at the Thumb.

The present Park road-system, though incomplete, touches most of the Yellowstone's greater and more lovely attractions. This system will be extended from time to time on a comprehensive plan. Supplementing these roads is a system of trails, which needs to be greatly extended, especially in the more mountainous parts of the Park.

The Yellowstone is at present the largest of our sixteen National Parks, and as the oldest of our scenic parks, it is entitled to head the imposing list. As a natural wonderland of varied attractions there is nothing like it in the whole world.

8. ADMINISTRATIVE HISTORY

The early administrative history of the Yellowstone National Park, and that of the celebrated Yosemite State Park of California, are records that no real American will ever read without a sense of shame. Both these splendid regions were long neglected by the public and by legislators. In those days scenery had no standing and few friends. It was treated as an outcast.

The act of dedication for the Yellowstone National Park made it a reservation "for the benefit and enjoyment of the people." The aim was to preserve its natural curiosities, its forests, and its game, and to make such development of the Park that the people might conveniently and freely see and enjoy it. For several years Congress failed to provide adequate appropriations either for the development of the Park or for its protection. It was given over to the administration of the Secretary of the Interior. Unfortunately, the act that created the Park contained no code of laws, did not define offenses, made no provision for the handling of legal cases or for the punishment of offenders. It failed to provide even the legal machinery necessary to enforce the regulations written by the Secretary of the Interior. The history of the Yellowstone for twenty-two years after its creation is, as Helen Hunt said of our treatment of the Indian, a tale of dishonor.

The first Superintendent of the Park was Nathaniel P. Langford, who had rendered distinctive services in having it created. With his hands tied he endured the position for five years, and did heroic work in trying to suppress license, start development, and lay a broad foundation for the future welfare of the enterprise. The interests fought him, and the public condemned him for inefficiency for which the public itself, and not he, was to blame.

Hunters invaded the Park and slaughtered game. One company almost secured leaseholds on extensive land-areas which would have given them a dangerous monopoly of all the leading attractions. A water-power company almost obtained title to Yellowstone Falls. Many attempts were made to run a railroad through the Park. A few people, at enormous sacrifice and through heroic and efficient efforts, saved it in its primitive naturalness. Among those who splendidly helped was George Bird Grinnell. At last Congress became interested, and in 1883-84 helpful legislation was passed.

On August 20, 1886, came a change for the better. The Secretary of the Interior availed himself of legislation that Congress had recently passed and called upon the War Department for assistance. Captain Moses Harris, with the title of Acting Superintendent, became the first military commander of the Park. Reforms were inaugurated, and development was begun. This military control has continued for twenty years, and for the most part the results have been satisfactory. General Chittenden, of the Engineer Corps of the Army, developed the present road-system. The character of the various military superintendents of the Park has been good, and the achievements of these men have won the praise even of those who are against the use of soldiers or military regulations in the Park government. I am particularly impressed with the work of the last commander, Colonel L. M. Brett. The honor, ability, and peculiar characteristics of these military commanders have enabled them to do excellent work. On October 1, 1916, all troops were withdrawn from the Park and a force of civilian rangers was organized.

9. LOST IN THE WILDERNESS

The Washburn-Doane Expedition of 1870, which proved a large factor in the creation of the Yellowstone National Park, was marked by one of the most extraordinary incidents in the annals of the American frontier.

Truman C. Everts, a former United States Assessor for Montana, was a member of the party. On September 9, he became separated from it and for thirty-seven days wandered in the Yellowstone wilderness.

Everts was wholly unfit to take care of himself in the wilderness. He was a city man, without experience in the wilds, timid, unresourceful, and very near-sighted. The first day he lost his glasses. The second day, while he was dismounted, his horse took fright and ran away with his traveling equipment. He tried for hours to capture the horse, but failed. Everts was left alone on foot in the rough country south of Yellowstone Lake, without food, gun, axe, blankets, or matches.

He went back to where he had fastened notes upon trees; but these had not been seen by his companions. By this time it was mid-afternoon. Toward evening he realized that he was completely lost.

Without food, fire, or shelter, he passed the night in the depths of a forest. There was a hard frost. Coyotes howled, and lions cried. His overwrought imagination conjured up endless terrors and dangers from the strange and ever-changing sounds of the wilderness.

On the third day out, Everts started off to follow, as he supposed, the direction taken by his companions, but took the opposite direction. He passed near numbers of animals. Finally he came to a small lake around which were many hot springs. In the water were many wild-fowl. He was starving, but had nothing with which to kill game. Fearful as he was of Indians, hunger led him to hope that he might meet them.

The loss of his eyeglasses was calamitous. Out in the lake he saw what he took for a boat coming to land, and he joyfully hastened to the shore to meet it. But when his "boat" took wings and transformed itself into a huge pelican, he was unnerved and almost lost hope.

At this lake he fortunately discovered a species of thistle with large edible roots, and these formed his principal sustenance for weeks. He took up the uncertain fight for primitive necessities. At the lake he became afraid, imagining that a mountain lion was near. He climbed into a tree and remained there most of the night. When at last he descended, half frozen, a heavy September snowstorm was coming on.

To avoid freezing to death, he built a rude shelter of boughs over one of the hot springs. In the boiling water he cooked his thistle-roots. For several days he remained in this shelter; then, realizing that if he stayed longer he might perish in another storm, he traveled on.

Day after day, Everts hoped that his companions would find him. During two weeks they searched diligently, leaving small deposits of food at places where they thought he might pass. They fired guns, put up signs, and lighted fires on the heights; but the rough, wooded nature of the country, and Everts's near-sightedness, made these efforts unavailing. Reluctantly his friends gave up the search and went on; but when they reached a settlement they sent back a rescue party.

Necessity stimulates thought. The only thing remaining in Everts's pockets was a little field-glass. Remembering that a lens would concentrate the sun's rays, he concluded that with his glass he might start a fire, and in this he succeeded.

Onward he traveled. If a day came with the sky overcast, he had to camp at night without a fire. To relieve the discomfort of this, for several days he carried a brand, but this burned his hands and smoked his eyes so severely, and so often went out, that at last he abandoned it and depended entirely upon the lens. One afternoon he stopped with the intention of building a fire. But the lens was missing. Almost exhausted, he dragged himself back to his last camp, and there, fortunately, the lens was found.

During a storm a benumbed bird fell into his hands, and he devoured it raw. In vain he tried to catch fish. As he stood on the margin of Yellowstone Lake, a gull's wing drifted ashore. This supplied his only satisfying meal. It was instantly stripped of its feathers, pounded between stones, and boiled in a tin can which Everts had found. Hastily devouring the unsalted soup, he lay down and slept for several hours.

He had resolution and will-power, and greatly needed them. His stomach rebelled at thistle-roots. His mind wandered. He lost track of time. But his determination drove him on, though he was growing weaker each day. During the thirty-seven days he had traveled in a northerly course from south of Yellowstone Park to the summit of one of the bluffs, several miles to the east of Mammoth Hot Springs. Here, barely alive, he was rescued by two men of the final searching party sent out by his companions.

Everts not only recovered, but lived for thirty-one years after his terrible experience, dying at the age of eighty-five. One of the peaks in the Park, Mount Everts, is named for him.

The adventures of Colter and Everts are inspiring achievements. They give thrilling views of primitive life, and are striking instances of men, empty-handed, successfully combating Nature. The stability, the will-power, the insistent, tenacious hopefulness of these men were extraordinary. Courageously they met and mastered the swiftly coming obstacles and afflictions that fate thrust thick and fast upon them. Their deeds are a part of our helpful heritage in the Yellowstone wonderland.

II
THE YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK

On the western slope of the Sierra, about one hundred and forty miles east of San Francisco, lies the Yosemite National Park, with an area of 1124 square miles. It is slightly larger than Rhode Island. Its lower sections on the west have an altitude of about 3000 feet. From this elevation it rises through bold terraces into the High Sierra. Mount Lyell has an altitude of 13,090 feet; Mount Dana, 13,050 feet. Gibbs Mountain and a number of other peaks have slightly lower altitudes. The elevational range, then, of this one Park runs through 10,000 feet, or nearly two vertical miles.

It is one of the scenic wonders of the world. Within it are many attractions, each great by itself, and all more impressive in their splendid grouping.

By permission of the National Park Service, Department of the Interior

Its glacial landscapes are magnificent and startling. Here the Ice King, the great landscape engineer, did work immensely bold and enchanting. An array of stupendous rock sculpture remains almost untarnished. Scores of lovely alpine lakes in solid rock lie open to the sun. The wild-flower population numbers more than a thousand varieties. It has scores of varieties of wild birds and many kinds of wild life. World-famous are its waterfalls.

Two of the greatest of mountain rivers rise in the Park and cross it from east to west. Each of them falls several thousand feet within the Park. Crossing centrally through the northern section is the Tuolumne. Passing miles of alpine rock and meadow, it roars through the rugged Tuolumne Cañon, and when well across the Park it sweeps through the majestic gorge known as the Hetch-Hetchy Valley.

Paralleling this stream at the distance of about ten miles is the intense Merced. This and its tributaries are signally rich in lakes and waterfalls, and they flow among stupendous and astounding glacial landscapes. At last the Merced flows serenely through the world-famous valley, the matchless Yosemite Gorge.

No name can suggest the amazing combinations of vastness and beauty seen in this rocky passage; the name "valley" is altogether lacking in significance. It may be described as having gorge walls with a valley floor. The walls have unshattered solidity, great height, and almost true verticalness. They bear the marks of individuality, and the valley-like floor shows original character.

The Yosemite Valley is obviously the greatest, as it is the most celebrated, scene in the Park. It is about seven miles long, approximately one mile wide, and about three fourths of a mile deep. The floor is nearly level and lies at an altitude of four thousand feet. It is well grassed, adorned with trees and groves, and glorified from end to end by the Merced River. The nearly vertical walls rise mainly in smooth, substantial masses from twenty-five hundred to nearly five thousand feet. Waterfalls from the heights above make the wild plunge over the rim down to the floor of the valley.

This gorge is countersunk into a plateau. It extends from east to west. The western and open end has an impressive entrance. On the left, El Capitan raises his colossal figure thirty-three hundred feet in smooth and simple massiveness. On the right, over the front face of the mountain wall opposite, flutter several hundred feet of Bridal Veil Falls. Then in order, on the right south wall, Cathedral Spires rise high above the valley; then Sentinel Rock; then stupendous Glacier Point. Farther east on the south wall, Half Dome stands up forty-five hundred feet, the most impressive figure on the valley rim. Farther along, on the right or south side of the valley, is the celebrated Clouds' Rest. On the left or north wall stand the Three Brothers. By these the snowy stream of the Yosemite Waterfall comes down. About halfway up the valley on the left are the Washington Column and the Royal Arches. Then, along the left or north wall in succession, rise North Dome, Basket Dome, and Mount Watkins. The upper part of the valley divides into three depressions or gorges. The north one is Tenaya Cañon, the central one is Little Yosemite Valley, and from this branches the southerly one, Illilouette Cañon. Each of these cañons is a wonder by itself.

Following is one of the most descriptive and eloquent tributes ever paid to this unrivaled array of stupendous nature statuary:—

Every rock in its walls seems to glow with life. Some lean back in majestic repose; others, absolutely sheer or nearly so for thousands of feet, advance beyond their companions in thoughtful attitudes, giving welcome to storms and calms alike, seemingly aware, yet heedless, of everything going on about them. Awful in stern, immovable majesty, how softly these rocks are adorned, and how fine and reassuring the company they keep: their feet among beautiful groves and meadows, their brows in the sky, a thousand flowers leaning confidingly against their feet, bathed in floods of water, floods of light, while the snow and waterfalls, the winds and avalanches and clouds shine and sing and wreathe about them as the years go by, and myriads of small winged creatures—birds, bees, butterflies—give glad animation and help to make all the air into music. Down through the middle of the valley flows the crystal Merced, River of Mercy, peacefully quiet, reflecting lilies and trees and the onlooking rocks; things frail and fleeting and types of endurance meeting here and blending in countless forms, as if into this one mountain mansion Nature had gathered her choicest treasures, to draw her lovers into close and confiding communion with her. (John Muir, in "The Yosemite.")

HALF DOME, YOSEMITE

1. ICE-KING TOPOGRAPHY

The splendid scenic endowment of the Yosemite Valley, its stupendous architecture and vast sculpturing, its natural landscape engineering, are largely triumphs of the ice age. Many theories have been advanced to account for the origin and the extraordinary features of this valley, especial prominence being given to subsidence, uplift, explosion, with earthquake modifications and influences of violent cataclysmic nature. Stream erosion has been strongly urged. All these theories attribute minor influences to one or more other factors.

The theory now generally accepted gives ice the leading part in the scooping of the valley and the creation of its wondrous forms. There is much evidence to support this conclusion. The ice theory is championed by John Muir, by Clarence King, and by F. E. Matthes. Matthes and Muir probably have made the most careful and exhaustive studies of the geological history of the valley.

This famous depression is of varying width. Examination of its walls shows that in the wider places it is composed of fissured rock that was more readily carried away by the ice than the adjoining unfissured rock-sections. These resisting unfissured places jut into the valley.

Erosion by ice probably was preceded and somewhat guided by stream erosion. But this ice sculpture, the rock-forms and features wrought, must have been determined in a marked measure by the rock-structure. That is to say, the dense quality of the rock, the number and the position of the cleavage joints, or their absence in the rock, were factors that helped determine the rock-forms of Yosemite. Other factors since the ice age have altered or modified this glacial topography.

It is certain that a vast ice-stream poured over the walls and forced through this valley. This is shown in the rock-groovings and perched boulders high on the walls, and also by the massive moraine which dams the outlet of the valley. It appears certain that this must have been left when the ice vanished; and apparently it formed a lake that filled the entire valley nearly to the height of the dam. The lake finally filled with sediment and sand, its surface corresponding approximately with the present surface of the valley. The valley floor is noticeably smooth, and its margins along the bottoms of the walls are comparatively free from rock-débris.

The landscape of the entire Yosemite National Park is preëminently glacial. Ice-polished mountains and hundreds of sculptured figures of vast size are a part of the matchless exhibit of the ice age in this wonderland. Polished domes predominate. Much of the rock-surface was dense granite comparatively free from cleavage lines, soft materials, or stratification. The forms made by the ice in these have endured. Since the ice age the softer and more fissured rocks have been far more changed by the various erosive forces than the more resistant rock of the domes and other sculptured forms.

Little Yosemite Valley is essentially similar to the Greater Yosemite in features and also in the manner of creation. Its walls are from fifteen hundred to two thousand feet high, its length is about three miles, its width one half-mile. Its floor, like that of the Greater Yosemite, was for a time a lake. In origin and history, the Hetch-Hetchy Valley, too, is almost identical with the Yosemite.

Nature often changes the scene, often puts on a new landscape. The forces of erosion are steadily at work; most of them work slowly, but sometimes a change is wrought suddenly.

When the Sierra was first upheaved it was more or less tilted, terraced, and fissured. The surface was uneven. The present topography is the product of a long and complicated series of events. It has been wrought out by many erosive forces. It probably has been acted upon by two or more ice ages, but the last age shaped the splendid topography of the Yosemite that is attracting the world to the scene.

The eroding power of ice is determined by its thickness, that is to say, by its weight. The small, shallow glaciers wear much more slowly than the deep ice-streams that bear heavily upon the surface passed over. The ancient glaciers of the region took on vast proportions. An enormous and deep ice-field accumulated from the snows of Mounts Dana, Lyell, Gibbs, McClure, Conness, and other peaks. Flowing westward, it came in contact with Mount Hoffman, against which it divided. The right section flowed down into the Tuolumne; the left, a branch about two miles wide, swept upward, climbing about five hundred feet over the pass and descending upon the Lake Tenaya region.

Apparently, five glacier streams united in the Yosemite Valley. They not only filled it but deeply overflowed the highest points on its walls. Passing out of the lower end of the valley, the united glacier was forced to climb upward several hundred feet.

About twenty-five small glaciers still remain in the Yosemite National Park. There are about two hundred and fifty glacier lakes, mostly small. Others have filled with sediment and are hidden and forgotten. Lake Tenaya, the Lake-of-the-Shining-Rocks, has a surrounding of dense rock-masses that still show the rounded form and the high polish given by the ice.

2. TREES AND FORESTS

The tree growth and the forest arrangement in the Yosemite National Park are among the grandest of such features on the globe, and they form one of the chief attractions of this heroic realm. The trees grow to enormous size and are distributed and grouped with crags, meadows, terraces, cañons—all in unmatched wild, artistic charm and sublimity. Though some areas are covered with growths tall and dense, they are free from gloom, and everywhere one may walk freely through them. They are broken and brightened with numerous sunny openings. This splendid landscape gardening extends over the greater portion of the Park.

The sequoia, the largest and most imposing tree, is found in the lower reaches of the Park. Other characteristic trees are the sugar pine, king of the pines; the Douglas spruce, king of the spruces; and the hemlock, one of the loveliest trees upon the earth.

The Park has three groves of Big Trees (sequoias)—the Mariposa Grove, the Tuolumne Grove, and the Merced Grove, all of the species Sequoia gigantea. The Merced and Tuolumne groves are near the western boundary of the Park, several miles north of El Portal Station, while the Mariposa Grove is in the southwestern corner, about fifteen miles southeast of El Portal. The Tuolumne Grove has but about thirty-five trees, and the Merced Grove fewer than one hundred.

The Mariposa Grove contains about five hundred and fifty trees. Among these is the Grizzly Giant, which, according to the computation of Galen Clark, is six thousand years old. It has a diameter of nearly thirty feet and a height of two hundred and four feet. Evidently it was once much taller; its top probably was wrecked by lightning. Through the Wawona tree a roadway has been cut. A great number of these trees are between two hundred and twenty-five and two hundred and seventy-five feet in height. A few rise above three hundred feet.

In this Park are about thirty species of trees besides those above mentioned. Among them are a cedar and a juniper; two silver firs; yellow, lodge-pole, and six other species of pines. Among the broad-leafed trees are the oak, maple, aspen, laurel, and dogwood. There are forests of firs and lodge-pole pines.

The sugar pine grows to enormous size and has a noble appearance. Its cones are the largest produced by any conifer, occasionally reaching the length of nearly two feet. The yellow pine rivals the sugar pine in size and grows from four to ten feet in diameter and from one hundred and fifty to two hundred and twenty-five feet high. Among the flowering shrubs are the dogwood, manzanita, California lilac, wild syringa, chokeberry, thimbleberry, and California laurel.

I have seen the trees diminish in number, give place to wide prairies, and restrict their growth to the border of streams; ... have seen grassy plains change into a brown and sere desert; ... and have reached at length the westward slopes of the high mountain barrier which, refreshed by the Pacific, bear the noble forests of the Sierra Nevada and the Coast Range, and among them trees which are the wonder of the world. (Asa Gray.)

3. PLANT LIFE

The Yosemite ferns, forests, and flowers are growing almost exclusively in glacial soil. Nearly all of the soil in the Park is rock-flour that was ground by glaciers, and in part distributed by them. Landslides and running water distributed most of the remainder.

The Park has an altitudinal range of nearly two miles, with them any climates, and consequently numerous varieties of flora. These are encouraged by varied life zones that result from combinations of sunny and shady mountain-sides, unevenly distributed moisture, and the different temperatures that prevail between the altitudes of three thousand and thirteen thousand feet.

Here and there in the Park wild flowers may be found in bloom every month of the year. Among the common flowers of the middle and lower sections are seen the shooting-star, evening-primrose, tiger lily, yellow pond-lily, Mariposa lily, black-eyed Susan, lupine, paintbrush, yarrow, and snow-plant. There are violets, blue and red, a number of pentstemons, the lark-spur, golden-rod, several orchids, and the wild rose.

Many of the showy, crowded gardens of luxuriant wild-flower growths are in the moist fir forests. Among the tall flowers in these gardens are columbines, larkspurs, paintbrushes, lupines, and one of the lily families. The famous, fragrant Washington lily brightens the open woods; in places it grows to the height of eight feet.

The snow-plant is a curiosity and attracts by its brilliancy of color. The plant and bloom are blood-red, but this herb is as cold and rigid as an icicle. It is not a parasite, but is isolated and appears to hold itself aloof from all the world. When caught by late snows it makes a startling figure, but it does not grow up through the snow.

In the alpine heights are many healthy plants: the lovely arctic daisy, phlox, gentian, lupine, potentilla, harebell, mountain columbine, astragalus, and numerous other bright flowers. They grow in clusters and in large ragged gardens, and in places are low-growing and extremely dwarfed.

Besides its wild small plants and the blooming shrubbery the Park has a glorious wealth of tree blossom. The hemlocks, pines, firs, and spruces have a jeweled wealth of blue, purple, red, and yellow bloom.

May and June are the months most crowded with blossoms, but many come in the autumn, mingling serenely with the calm, sunny days, the evergreen groves, the tanned grass, and the masses of red and yellow leaves. In May and June the waterfalls are at their best, and the birds are most songful.

The Yosemite National Park is perhaps the most delightful region in all the world for the study of plant life. The wide variety of conditions here found, ranging from the hot and desiccated slopes of the brush-clad foothills to the cold, bleak summits above timber line, the abode of glaciers and perpetual snow, gives to the flora an exceedingly diverse and interesting character. Innumerable springs, creeks, rivers, ponds, and lakes provide suitable habitats for moisture-loving plants. Rocky outcroppings, enormous cliffs, and gravelly ridges accommodate species adapted to such situations. The irregular topography yields southward facing slopes which receive the full effect of the sun's rays, as well as northward slopes where the sun's rays are little felt, where it is therefore cool, moist, and shady. The altitude ranges from two thousand five hundred feet in the foothill belt to thirteen thousand and ninety feet along the crest of the Sierra Nevada. All of these factors conspire to produce a remarkably varied and interesting vegetation.

The richness of this flora is indicated by the nine hundred and fifty-five species and varieties here described. The total number represented in the Yosemite National Park is considerably greater, since the grasses, sedges, and rushes are here omitted. Including an estimate for these, it is safe to assume that the number of species and varieties of flowering plants and ferns to be found within the one thousand one hundred and twenty-four square miles of the park is not less than about one thousand two hundred. ("A Yosemite Flora," by Harvey Monroe Hall and Carlotta Case Hall.)

4. THE REALM OF FALLING WATER

The Yosemite National Park is enlivened and splendidly enriched with mountain-high waterfalls and with wildly coasting and cascading streams. These world-famous falls gain an added attractiveness through the magnificence of the walls over which they plunge. In places the walls, clean-cut and smooth, rise sheer for more than one thousand feet. Here and there the line of a wall is broken with a vast niche or columnar buttress.

UPPER AND LOWER YOSEMITE FALLS
Total fall 2600 feet

A number of mountain streams and rivers in the Yosemite deliberately make their way to the brink of a vast gorge that has its brow in the sky, and there, in full self-control, they plunge over.

Jutting rocks, and smooth steep inclines throw streams into wild, uncontrolled excitement. But where a vertical river drops its fluttering current against a magnificent mountain-wall, everything is harmonious and controlled, and the stream appears to have the sublime composure of a Big Tree.

In a stream-channel water goes forward with crowding intermittent rushes. These, in plunging over a brink, break up into numerous closely falling rockets or comet-like masses, each tailed with spray. These in turn separate and divide into other such masses, with spray and water-dust.

In a drop of several hundred feet a mass of water is likely to expand to several times its width at the brink. This expansion varies with the volume of water, the height of the drop, and the direction and speed of resisting wind-currents.

Swaying and bending are further attractions of waterfalls. Bridal Veil Falls often swings and sways gently from side to side. This movement is sometimes accompanied by lacy flutterings at one or more places on the spray-wreathed white fall. Numerous falls in the Yosemite are high and spread widely in descending, and frequently the fall dances splendidly as its white, airy mass keeps time to the changing movements of the wind.

Many of these high falls are accompanied at times by a fluttering of numerous rainbows. These flaunt, shift, and dart like great hummingbirds. At the Lower Yosemite, Bridal Veil, and Vernal Falls these rainbows sometimes momentarily form a complete circle of color. By these, too, the moon produces similar though softer, stranger effects. Perhaps the most pleasing, delicate, and novel effects in lunar rainbows are to be had about the foot of Yosemite Falls.

The slender Ribbon Fall has a vertical drop of twenty-three hundred feet; the Upper Yosemite, about sixteen hundred feet. Nevada Falls is about six hundred feet high. Vernal Falls is one hundred feet wide at the top and drops three hundred feet. The Vernal and Nevada Falls are in the midst of magnificent and novel rock scenery. The Illilouette Fall is about six hundred feet high and is one of the most beautiful in the Park.

The Tueeulala and Wapama Falls in Hetch-Hetchy have their own individual setting and behavior. The Wapama, though lacking the verticality of the Upper Yosemite Falls, carries a greater volume of water. Yosemite Creek is a true mountain stream. In its first ten miles it goes through a number of zones, passes a variety of plant life, and makes a descent of six thousand feet. One third of this descent is in the Falls of the Yosemite.

John Muir tells us that one windy day the Upper Falls was struck by an upward wind pressure that bent and drove the water back over the brow of the cliff. The wind held back the water so that the fall was cut entirely in two for a few minutes. But more wonderful than this was one day when the wind struck the Upper Falls at a point about halfway down and there stopped and supported its falling waters. For more than a minute the water piled up in an enormous conical accumulation about seven hundred feet high. All the while the water poured over steadily from above, and the entire mass rested upon the elastic but invisible air. Then came a wild collapse.

At the foot of some of these waterfalls vast ice-cones are sometimes formed. Occasionally these spread out over a large area and rise to the height of several hundred feet.

LAKE TENAYA
YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK

Among the numerous cascades in the Park, one of the most precipitous is the Sentinel, which endlessly comes tumbling down over a steep rough incline of thirty-two hundred feet. In the upper end of the Tuolumne Cañon the Tuolumne River rushes over inclined rocks and forms one of the most scenic rapids in the world.

5. SEEING YOSEMITE

I wish that all who visit the Yosemite National Park would have a view from the top of Mount Hoffman. I wish also that they might see Tuolumne Meadows, wander over the near-by alpine moorlands, and stand in the center of Hetch-Hetchy Valley.

Even the most flying visit to the Yosemite Valley should include a visit to Lake Tenaya, Little Yosemite, Nevada, and Vernal Falls, and, last, and in some respects most important, a view across and down into the valley from Glacier Point on the south side, and also from the summit of Eagle Peak on the opposite side.

From the first, John Muir called Hetch-Hetchy the Tuolumne Yosemite and considered it a rival of the Yosemite Valley and "a wonderfully exact counterpart of the Merced Yosemite." It is less than half the size of the Yosemite, and its walls are about a thousand feet lower. Two immense rocks stand at the entrance. On the south wall is Koloma, a massive rock twenty-three hundred feet high. On the north wall is an almost sheer front of rock that rises eighteen hundred feet. Over this plunges Tueeulala Falls with a drop of ten hundred feet. This fall is somewhat like Bridal Veil, but excels it both in beauty and in height. Over the same wall, a short distance eastward, tumbles Wapama Falls, carrying a greater volume of water than the Yosemite Falls.

Like the Yosemite Valley, Hetch-Hetchy is a combination of stupendous rock-walls that rise from a quiet grassy valley which is beautiful with trees and groves and a clear mountain stream.

The Parsons Memorial Lodge at Soda Springs is an excellent stopping-place from which to explore the alpine scenes of the Yosemite National Park. It is owned by the Sierra Club, and was built in honor of Edward T. Parsons, who for years was one of the club's leading members. The Lodge is situated on the edge of the celebrated Tuolumne Meadows, by the Tioga Road, and is within a few miles of many celebrated scenes and view-points. It is about twenty-five miles northeast of the Yosemite Valley.

At Soda Springs, John Muir often had a central camp. He long ago recommended the place for an excursion center. It lies at an altitude of about nine thousand feet. One cannot too often see the near-by smooth, wide Tuolumne Valley with its surrounding world of mountain-peaks. It is in the very heart of the Yosemite High Sierra. By it is an extensive and splendid alpine zone. Here are lakes, moory spaces, polished pavements and domes, and, in its lower regions, cañons, waterfalls, cascades, groves, and wild alpine gardens colored and made charming by dainty brilliant flowers. To the north lies Mount Conness; eastward, Mounts Dana, Lyell, Gibbs, Mammoth, and McClure; southward, the Cathedral Range; and westward ice-polished Mount Hoffman.

Surely the Parsons Memorial Lodge will become a world-celebrated rendezvous for mountain-climbers and for those who desire to see mountain scenery where it is peculiarly lovely and sublime. A number of trails converge at this point. It will be interesting to follow the future of the Lodge and to observe the thousands of enthusiastic people who will enjoy the surrounding scenes.

About twelve miles to the west of it is Mount Hoffman, which rises near the center of the Park and is probably the most commanding view-point in it. This is one of the places that visitors to the Park should not fail to enjoy.

Only a few miles to the southwest of the Lodge is Cathedral Peak. This imposing ice-burnished structure is one of the most celebrated pieces of nature statuary in the Park. Near by is Cathedral Lake. About fifteen miles to the south of the Lodge is a region of burnished rocks, numerous lakes, cañons, and moraines—a wonderful array of glacial stories. This region is several miles southwest of Mount Lyell.

Mountain-climbers will find Dana Mountain, to the east of the Lodge, an excellent view-point. To see a sunrise from it is a rare enjoyment. From its summit one looks down on the Mono Desert, the lake, and the craters. It is an easy one-day journey from the Lodge across Tioga Pass to Mono Lake.

At the door of the Lodge are the magnificent Tuolumne Meadows. There are a series of them, the lower one being about four miles long and about half a mile wide. Its meadowy expanse is in places attractively sprinkled with trees, and across it, with beautiful folds and hesitating bends, lingers the Tuolumne River.

The wonderful rapids in the upper end of the cañon of the Tuolumne are perhaps the greatest in the world. The white and rushing river is intensely impressive. Some distance below the Lodge begins the Big Tuolumne Cañon. It is eighteen miles long and terminates in the Hetch-Hetchy Valley. A journey through this is a joy for the mountaineer. The cañon is comparatively narrow for its depth, which in places is one mile. There are a few romantic parklike openings along the way, and at some points the statuary is stupendous and magnificent.

6. HISTORY OF YOSEMITE

Indians formerly called the Yosemite Valley Ah-wah-nee, meaning "grassy valley." Early one morning a young brave started for Mirror Lake to spear fish. On the way he encountered a huge grizzly bear. He fought the beast with his spear and a club. After a long and furious battle, in which he was badly wounded, the bear was killed. For this exploit the Indian was named Yosemite, which means a full-grown grizzly bear. This name was transmitted to his children and eventually given to the entire tribe of Indians inhabiting the valley.