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Title: The Story of Man In Yellowstone
Author: Beal, Merrill Dee
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Story of Man In Yellowstone" ***
[Illustration: Greetings from Wonderland Park Naturalist Merrill D.
Beal]
THE STORY
of
MAN IN YELLOWSTONE
REVISED EDITION
THE YELLOWSTONE LIBRARY AND MUSEUM
ASSOCIATION
Yellowstone Park, Wyoming
[Illustration: A Yellowstone geyser in action]
The Story
of
Man In Yellowstone
_By_
MERRILL D. BEAL
_Seasonal Park Naturalist,
Yellowstone National Park;
Professor of History,
Idaho State College_
Approved by the National Park Service
Yellowstone Interpretive Series
Number 7
Revised Edition
_Illustrated_
1960
[Illustration: YELLOWSTONE LIBRARY AND MUSEUM ASSOC.]
_Published By_
The Yellowstone Library and Museum Association
Yellowstone Park, Wyoming
Copyright, 1949
By The Caxton Printers, Ltd.
Caldwell, Idaho
Copyright, 1956
By The Yellowstone Library and
Museum Association
Yellowstone Park, Wyoming
Copyright, 1960
By The Yellowstone Library and
Museum Association
Printed and bound in the United States of America
by the WHEELWRIGHT LITHOGRAPHING COMPANY,
Salt Lake City, Utah
To
The men in the National Park Service Uniform, protectors and
interpreters of Yellowstone. Indeed, to all National Park Service
personnel and others who subscribe to the purposes for which the area
was reserved.
This book is published by the Yellowstone Library and Museum
Association, a non-profit organization whose purpose is the stimulation
of interest in and the furtherance of the educational and inspirational
aspects of Yellowstone’s history and natural history. The Association
cooperates with and is recognized by the National Park Service of the
United States Department of the Interior, as an essential operating
organization. It is primarily sponsored and operated by the Naturalist
Division in Yellowstone National Park.
As one means of accomplishing its aims the Association has published a
series of reasonably priced books and booklets which are available for
purchase by mail throughout the year or at the museum information desks
in the park during the summer.
YELLOWSTONE INTERPRETIVE SERIES
_Number_ _Title and Author_
1. _Wild Animals of Yellowstone National Park_ by Harold J.
Brodrick
2. _Birds of Yellowstone National Park_ by Harold J. Brodrick
3. _Yellowstone Fishes_ by James R. Simon
4. _The Story of Old Faithful Geyser_ by George D. Marler
5. _Reptiles and Amphibians of Yellowstone National Park_ by
Frederick B. Turner
6. _Yellowstone’s Bannock Indian Trails_ by Wayne F. Replogle
7. _The Story of Man in Yellowstone_ by Dr. M. D. Beal
8. _The Plants of Yellowstone_ by W. B. McDougall and Herma
A. Baggley
Orders or letters of inquiry concerning publications should be addressed
to the Yellowstone Library and Museum Association, Yellowstone Park,
Wyoming.
PREFACE
Yellowstone National Park lives as a cherished memory in the minds of
millions of people. Greater still is the number who anticipate a visit
to this Wonderland. To nearly all, the Park stands as a symbol of the
enrichment of the American way of life. And well it might, because it is
a geological paradise, a pristine botanical garden, and an Elysium for
wild game. But most important of all, it is a place of recreation for
countless thousands who come to find a temporary escape from the
pressure of a highly artificial life. Thoughtful people assent to the
opinion of Wordsworth:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. —Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
After many years of indifference to the claims of nature, the American
people are coming into accord with the wise teachings advanced by John
Muir more than fifty years ago. Today, legions of tired, nerve-shaken,
over-civilized people realize that going to the mountains is like going
home. They have found a brief sojourn in the wilderness a necessity of
life. There is a balm in the sun, wind, and storm of mountain heights.
There is healing in willow parks and gentian meadows. Cobweb cares of
the world’s spinning give way before the vibrant touch of Mother Earth
when her children venture boldly into unbeaten paths. There they may
attune their ears to strange sounds; their lungs respond to pine sap
air. Jumping from rock to log, tracing rivers to their sources, brings
men up from panting puffs to deep-drawn breath in whole-souled exercise
unto a newness of life.
The story of Yellowstone has been told many times, but seldom does one
catch that elusive something that so mightily impresses the sensitive
visitor. The theme is at once so inspiring and grand, the details so
varied and minute, as to challenge one’s finest discrimination to seize
upon the major features and bring them into relief. There is still much
that is primitive in Wonderland, and in this setting it is appropriate
to envision the salient traits of the Old West. Hereabouts was once
enacted a colorful panorama of frontier life. There were Indians,
trappers, miners, cowboys, rustlers, poachers, soldiers, and settlers. A
description of these picturesque people and their ways might bring
enjoyment to many. Perhaps the spirit of appreciation that characterizes
this history is its chief claim upon the attention of Yellowstone
visitors.
This monograph was written for them, and it represents a synthesis of
many lectures that evolved in their presence, in the afterglow of
Yellowstone campfire programs. Visitors whose enjoyment of life seems
particularly enhanced by a visit to the Park may find the reason
therefore in those lines:
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
—WORDSWORTH
In the interest of economy of time in reading this history, it is
suggested that chapters three, four, and ten might be skimmed. However,
a knowledge of the Indians and trappers whose haunts and activities
impinged upon the Park area is essential to a full appreciation of
Yellowstone National Park in its western setting.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Former Superintendent Edmund B. Rogers and Park Naturalist David de L.
Condon gave me access to the records of the Park. Their interest in
advancing the knowledge of Yellowstone has been keen and constant.
My Yellowstone Park ranger-colleagues also served as sources of
information and occasional critics. It is probable that each of them
will be able to identify an element of his own thought or expression in
the narrative. As my campfire lectures evolved into a unified monograph,
guidance was received from professional historians. They have been more
critical than the rangers but not less kind.
At the State College of Washington, Dr. Herman J. Deutsch and Dr.
Claudius O. Johnson made the college’s Northwest Collection available.
They also joined their colleagues, Dr. W. B. Thorson and Dr. C. M.
Brewster, in making many fine and comprehensive criticisms, which
combined to strengthen the narrative. Several of my colleagues at Idaho
State College gave direction and increased purpose to the discussion of
conservation and wild life principles. They are Dr. Ray J. Davis, Albert
V. S. Pulling, and DuWayne Goodwin. Dr. Carl W. McIntosh, president of
the college, has extended many courtesies. Professor Wallace E. Garets
edited the manuscript.
Former Yellowstone National Park Naturalist, Dr. C. Max Bauer, gave
encouragement from the inception of the study and reviewed the final
draft. Other National Park officials from whom wise council and valuable
suggestions were received include Dr. Carl P. Russell, former National
Park Supervisor of Interpretation, and Dr. Alvin P. Stauffer, Chief of
Research and Survey. The collaboration of J. Neilson Barry was
invaluable in the exposition of the discovery phase in the chapter on
John Colter. J. Fred Smith, Delbert G. Taylor, and Mr. and Mrs. George
Marler have also given material support to this effort.
The illustrations are principally the work of William S. Chapman, North
District Ranger.
The support of Yellowstone Park Superintendent Lemuel A. Garrison and
Chief Park Naturalist Robert N. McIntyre in bringing forth this Third
Edition under the auspices of The Yellowstone Library and Museum
Association is indeed appreciated.
Lastly, gratitude is due my wife, Bessy N. Beal, and our son, David, and
his wife, Jean, for the typing of the manuscript and for the rendering
of much additional service to this enterprise.
MERRILL D. BEAL
IDAHO STATE COLLEGE
POCATELLO, IDAHO
June 10, 1960
INTRODUCTION
It is interesting and significant that this book, telling the story of
man in the area of our oldest National Park, should be available soon
after a season of record-breaking public use of the area. During the
travel year 1948, one million thirty-one thousand five hundred and
thirty-one people visited Yellowstone National Park.
The discoverer of The Yellowstone Country early in the nineteenth
century, and re-discoverers through the years prior to 1872, as well as
all visitors to the Park before the advent of modern highways and
automobiles probably gave no thought to the reality and problems of a
million visitors a year.
Dr. Beal’s well documented and carefully prepared book brings us through
the history of man in a wilderness, through that period of history
before annual visitation of a million visitors in that wilderness.
Readers will find the story of the before-one-million-visitors-years
most interesting. It is a period, especially since the establishment of
the National Park in 1872, in which we as a nation were experimenting
for the most part in wilderness preservation and, at the same time,
encouraging its use. Dr. Beal’s book covers a period in U.S. history
when shameful exploitation of natural resources was common practice. The
preservation of The Yellowstone Country as a National Park is an action
during the period of exploitation, an action of which we can all be
proud. The story of man in Yellowstone is a fascinating one. It can also
be a challenge to everyone to assume responsibility in continued
preservation of Yellowstone National Park so that future generations may
benefit from all of the things that unimpaired natural areas can offer
by way of recreation, education, and inspiration.
JOHN E. DOERR
_Former Chief Naturalist, National Park Service_
OUTDOORS
O, give me a bit of the great outdoors
Is all that I ask of you,
Where I may do whatever I like
And like whatever I do.
Where the sky is the boundary up above
And the earth is the measure below,
And the trail starts on where the sun comes up
And ends where the sun sinks low.
Where the wind blows sweet as a baby’s breath,
And the sun shines bright as its eyes,
And the showers come and the showers go
As the tears when the little one cries.
And the brook runs merrily through the glade,
Singing its gladdening song,
And the pine trees murmur their soothing sighs,
Still bearing that song along.
Yes, carry me back to the lake’s white shores
With its deer and its lily pad.
Where the loon calls out into the moonbeams bright
Through the mist on the waters sad.
Let me hear the elk’s far cry
As it sweeps through the forest deep,
Where the silence hangs as over the dead
At rest in eternal sleep.
I’ll pitch my tent by some lonesome pine,
By the rippling water’s edge,
With the great outdoors as my garden,
And the willows round as my hedge.
And surrounded by pretty flowers,
That perfume the gentle breeze,
I’ll idle away the whole long day,
In the shade of my old pine trees.
And I’ll watch on yonder mountain
The colors change with the day,
And I’ll follow each shadow creeping
So silently on its way.
And then I’ll give thanks to God above
And in gratitude I’ll pause,
And I’ll love, not hate, each care that comes
In that great big home—Outdoors.
—FRANK L. OASTLER
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PAGE
Preface 7
Acknowledgments 11
Introduction 13
Poem “OUTDOORS” 15
Chapter I YELLOWSTONE—GEM OF THE MOUNTAINS 23
Chapter II JOHN COLTER’S FIRST DISCOVERY OF YELLOWSTONE 30
Chapter III INDIANS IN AND AROUND YELLOWSTONE 59
Chapter IV PORTRAIT OF A TRAPPER BRIGADE 71
Chapter V WERE INDIANS AFRAID OF YELLOWSTONE? 84
Chapter VI SECONDARY VISITATIONS BEFORE 1869 92
Chapter VII JIM BRIDGER: MAN AND LEGEND 106
Chapter VIII FINAL DISCOVERY IN 1869 AND 1870 116
Chapter IX CREATION OF YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK 136
Chapter X THE LAST ROUNDUP 147
Chapter XI CHIEF JOSEPH’S TRAIL OF BLOOD 165
Chapter XII TRAVEL AND ACCOMMODATIONS—NEW BUSINESSES 192
Chapter XIII “THE YELLOWSTONE IDEA” 219
Chapter XIV GENERAL ADMINISTRATION 238
Chapter XV THE NATIONAL PARK SERVICE 265
Appendix I. YOUNG MEN CAMPING IN YELLOWSTONE 281
Appendix II. PROBLEM OF COLTER’S ROUTE IN 1807 285
Bibliographical Note 299
Bibliography 301
Subject Index 310
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
A Yellowstone geyser in action _frontispiece_
Sacajawea with Lewis and Clark 33
Manuel Lisa’s fort built in 1807 39
Eastern section of Colter’s route 46
Map of 1814 depicting Lewis and Clark route 48-49
Colter and Potts under attack 53
Mountain Indian clan 62
Family of Sheepeater Indians facing 66
Beaver at work 72
Part of a trapper brigade 75
Gun and powder horn 79
Remnants of Sheepeaters’ wickiup facing 86
Horse and travois transportation 89
Trapper observing Riverside Geyser 97
Jim Bridger 109
Rare species of aquatic life 119
Bighorn resentful toward invaders 125
Part of Washburn-Langford-Doane party in camp 133
Dr. Ferdinand V. Hayden facing 136
The Hayden expedition in camp facing 138
President Ulysses S. Grant signing the Yellowstone National Park
Bill 143
The iron horse in buffalo country—an early Wyoming scene facing 154
Strong medicine against the Indians facing 158
Chief Joseph, war chief of the Nez Percé 167
A general map of Chief Joseph’s flight 171
George F. Cowan stands up to Nez Percé warriors 173
Radersburg tourist party marker facing 174
Detail map showing Nez Percé movements in Yellowstone Park 179
Indian war club and peace pipe 191
Stagecoach 193
“Yankee Jim”—James George facing 198
“Uncle” John Yancey 203
Golden Gate drive 209
“Beaver Dick”—Richard Leigh—and family, 1871 facing 238
Superintendent Philetus W. Norris facing 240
Old Fort Yellowstone 243
Poacher caught in the act 249
Wild and dangerous despite appearances 255
Grizzly, king of the Rockies 257
Cavalry troops in Park patrol 263
Park ranger-naturalist and tourist group 271
Madison Junction Historical Museum 275
Park Ranger 278
_APPENDICES_
Young men camping in Yellowstone facing 282
Figure I. Yellowstone section of Colter’s route 287
Figure II. Western section of Colter’s route 289
Figure III. “Double-Entry” map of Yellowstone 293
Figure IV. A section of fictitious geography 295
Figure V. Western section of Colter’s route 297
THE STORY
of
MAN IN YELLOWSTONE
Chapter I
YELLOWSTONE—THE GEM OF THE MOUNTAINS
Yellowstone National Park was one of the last regions in the United
States to come into the scope of man’s knowledge. This fact is partly
responsible for its development as a wild animal retreat. Grizzlies and
people do not go well together under natural conditions. Yet nature has
bequeathed a rare portion of her treasure upon this enchanting land that
forms the crown of the Rockies. Within the confines of what the world
calls Yellowstone the visitor may find great and wondrous manifestations
of natural handiwork. Indeed, nature seems to have indulged in several
grand orgies of creation. Here are lofty mountain majesties and shining
rivers of silver and green wind athwart the heights and plateaus like
living, breathing things. Everywhere the air is pierced by lodgepole
pines. Erect they stand, bristling with fierce determination, while
prone beneath their feet lie their uprooted brethren in tangled disorder
and various degrees of decay.[1]
The whole plateau is dotted by myriad alpine lakes of surpassing beauty.
Surely it is comparable to a vast sponge which receives a five-foot
mantle of snow annually. From this precipitation sufficient water is
derived to feed a legion of springs and streams. “The altitude renders
it certain that winter comes early and tarries late; in fact, it is
almost always in sight and liable to drop in any day.”[2]
Deep and delicately etched canyons involuntarily shock the visitor as he
views their kaleidoscopic grandeur. Massive mountains display their
mighty ramparts in a silhouette that is unmistakable and unforgettable.
Indeed, some of these serrated spires once served as pilots to the
wayfarer; and Indians named them “Pee-ah,” meaning large and
permanent.[3] So are they still, mute testaments of the ages.
Surely such an impressive alternation of rivers, forests, lakes,
canyons, and mountains is in itself complete. Someone has said,
“Yellowstone has everything except a cave and a glacier.” Actually,
there are caves and glaciers in the Park’s environs, but the most unique
feature of all this Wonderland is its thermal activity. Thousands of hot
springs and hundreds of geysers reveal strange secrets of the inner
earth. Mammoth Hot Springs Terraces represents the actual process of a
mountain turning inside out.
Yellowstone Park is roughly located between longitude 110° W. and 111°
W. and latitude 44° N. and 45° N. In respect to Wyoming, the Park is
located in the northwestern corner, encroaching slightly upon Montana
and Idaho. The area comprehends three thousand, four hundred and
seventy-two square miles, and the average elevation is eight thousand
feet above sea level. Occupying a central portion of the Rockies’
greatest girth, the Park’s scenic position is most strategic. From the
top of Mt. Washburn a majestic rock-ribbed panorama is disclosed. It is
indeed a vast area, surrounded by lofty mountain ranges, some of whose
towering peaks are reflected in Lake Yellowstone. This comprehensive
view reminds one of a gigantic amphitheatre or, from another angle, a
colossal orange juicer with the Yellowstone River as its spigot. At the
river’s outlet from the Park at North Gate the elevation is five
thousand, three hundred and fourteen feet above sea level, whereas the
maximum height of eleven thousand, three hundred and sixty feet is
achieved on the summit of Eagle Peak on the southeastern boundary.[4]
Cartographers have segregated the most conspicuous elevations into seven
plateaus, three ranges, four ridges, and several minor units of
mountains and hills.[5] Thirty-two mountain peaks loom above the
ten-thousand-foot level, and another six exceed the eleven-thousand-foot
scale.[6]
The Continental Divide winds among the Park’s southern plateaus in the
manner of a serpent. From these circumstances, Yellowstone Park has
become truly the wondrous land of water and the source of that
life-giving liquid to lands hundreds of miles away in all directions.
Nowhere else does water so well display its varied charms. From the
Divide’s snowy, timber-rimmed pockets, icy rivulets flow into sylvan
pools, thence to rushing rivers with thundering waterfalls. Other water
issues from steaming vents and towering geysers connected with the
earth’s internal heat and weaves vaporous trails into streams called
warm or fire rivers.[7]
Great rivers have their origins in its alpine parks, from whence they
follow their devious courses to the several seas. Oh, the rivers of
Wonderland, what strength and beauty they possess! There is the
Yellowstone itself, arising upon Yount’s Peak and its vicinity among the
high Absarokas. It rolls northward through that vast lake of limpid blue
referred to by the natives as “the smile of the Great Spirit.” From the
famous Fishing Bridge outlet it flows tranquilly again beyond Hayden
Valley, but soon it flashes into milk-white cascades, a transitional
phase of noisy preparation for its two great falls. These awe-inspiring
plunges are one hundred and nine and a sheer three hundred and eight
feet, for the Upper and Lower Falls respectively. At each point the
river’s mighty volume sets up an awful tumult of sound, earth tremor,
and spray in the immediate environs. The river’s pulsating reverberation
seems to follow its imprisoned rush along a tortuous path for many miles
toward the Missouri.
Another stream arises in the southeast corner of the Park that possesses
equal might and great utility. By the natives it was known as “Pohogwa,”
or river of the sagebrush plains. The French called it La Maudite
Riviere Enragee, meaning accursed, mad river, but American frontiersmen
renamed it the Snake.[8] The latter name lacks something of the romance
in the others but aptly describes this stream which everywhere exhibits
some characteristic of reptilian behavior.
Two other interesting rivers arise in the Park and join a third a
hundred miles beyond the northwest boundary of Yellowstone. The
Madison’s tributaries derive from meadowlands beyond Upper Geyser and
Norris Geyser basins.[9] The Madison is a moss-bottomed stream with
lusty aquatic life. The Gallatin, which heads in the range of the same
name, has a dashing manner. It has carved its way among forests both
living and petrified. Each river follows a parallel course until they
merge with the Jefferson at Three Forks. As the triumvirate roll away
together, one remembers the unity and friendship that characterized the
three men for whom they were named.
Other sinuous streams are the tuneful Bechler, laughing Lamar, and
sculpturing Shoshone. These streams possess attractions that appeal to
fishermen, hikers, photographers, and artists. In Yellowstone, the
two-ocean-drainage courses are almost as intricate and snug as a child’s
hands folded in prayer. At either Isa Lake, or Two Ocean Pass, a pebble
tossed in one stream would start vibrations upon the “water-nerve
endings” of Atlantic and Pacific river systems. In fact, the Yellowstone
country is the apex of North America; it is essentially the Great
Divide.
Yellowstone’s summer climate is invigorating and delightful. Frequent,
but fleeting, rainstorms tend to modify the prevailing atmospheric
aridity. Evenings and nights are invariably cool. The highest
temperature ever recorded at Mammoth was 92.4°, while the lowest on
record was 66° below zero. This record low was taken at Riverside
Station near West Gate on February 9, 1933.[10]
Such is the physical setting of this mountainous country. Its western
slope was called the land of “Ee-dah-how.” This was a Shoshone
exclamation that means “Behold! the sun is streaming down from the
mountain tops; it is sunup, time to get up!”[11]
It is expedient that a brief review of early American history should be
given as a setting for the major interests in the drama of Yellowstone.
The history of Wonderland falls logically into three periods:
Archaeological characteristics and association; Modern discovery and
exploration; Development as a pleasuring ground by the United States
Government.
The greater part of the Yellowstone area was a part of the Louisiana
Purchase, whereas that portion under the Snake River drainage
appertained to the great Pacific Northwest. All of the territory
involved once belonged to Spain. However, the Spanish claim was
relinquished in a series of treaties beginning with San Ildefonso in
1800, wherein the province of Louisiana was retroceded to France under
the dictation of Napoleon Bonaparte. The balance of Spanish interests
above the forty-second parallel was extinguished in favor of the United
States in 1819.
American acquisition of Louisiana from France grew out of several
considerations. The frontiersmen of the Ohio Valley were chafing under
foreign commercial restrictions at New Orleans. The officials of the
government were distressed at the prospect of having the strong-willed
Napoleon as a neighbor. President Jefferson cogently expressed the
general concern by saying, “... from this moment we must marry the
British fleet and nation.”[12] However, the alarm was soon dispersed by
an eminently successful negotiation. Jefferson had instructed Robert
Livingston, the American Minister to Paris, to buy New Orleans and West
Florida. The early part of the spring of 1803 found Napoleon hard
pressed for money and disgusted with native resistance against his
government in Haiti, led by the remarkable Negro, Toussaint L’Ouverture,
whom Bonaparte called the “gilded African.” By March, Napoleon realized
that the Peace of Amiens was about to be ruptured and war with England
resumed. In these circumstances he decided to dispose of his American
holdings. This notable decision was effected while His Imperial Majesty
was taking a bath. Consequently it was one of the cleanest decisions
that he ever made! It was then that the “Little Corporal” directed J. M.
Talleyrand to say, “What would you give for the whole of Louisiana?”[13]
Livingston, who was a trifle deaf anyway, could hardly believe what he
heard. After some parleying the deal was closed by Livingston and Monroe
for $15,000,000; of this amount $3,750,000 was diverted to American
citizens to meet private claims against the French government.
Livingston showed prophetic insight when he said to Monroe, “We have
lived long, but this is the noblest work of our whole lives....”[14]
More than a dozen states have been carved out of the 827,987 square
miles. It is probable that Old Faithful Geyser alone is worth far more
than the original purchase price, should good taste allow an assignment
of monetary value to such a natural wonder.
Notwithstanding the marvels of this alluring land, Yellowstone lay
dormant, forbidding and inhospitable, until the last quarter of the
nineteenth century. Why was its call to conquest so long unheeded?
Seldom has an area so long ignored made such a phenomenal rise to fame.
The answer to this question is fully explored in this narrative.
Chapter II
JOHN COLTER’S DISCOVERY OF YELLOWSTONE
It is a fairly well-attested fact that America was first discovered by
Leif Ericsson about 1000 A.D.[15] However, as Mark Twain put it,
“America did not stay discovered,” and therefore Columbus is not to be
denied. So it was with Yellowstone. The most significant feature of its
early history lies in the inconclusive nature of the early reports
concerning its position and character.
Yellowstone’s isolation was not effectively invaded and broken until the
decade of 1860. This narrative will explain how early, trapper
observations drifted into oblivion, and later, miner excursions faded
into indifference. Hence, the first conclusive visitations were those
made by the Folsom-Cook party in 1869 and the Washburn-Langford-Doane
Expedition of 1870. Why did Wonderland remain unknown to the world so
long? Surely the answer is found in its relative inaccessibility.
Yellowstone is a sequestered region, mountain-locked by the Absaroka,
Teton, Gallatin, Beartooth, and Snowy ranges. Here, then, is a plateau a
mile and a half above sea level, encircled by a still loftier quadrangle
of rocky barriers. Some of these culminate in peaks and ridges that rise
4,000 feet above the level of the enclosed table land.
Of course there were a few yawning, ever-difficult canyon approaches,
cut by foaming mountain torrents and several high, snow-choked passes
suitable for late summer use. However, they were far removed from the
principal arteries of pioneer travel, and they still remain apart from
the main avenues of trade. Even now, these same bulwarks of nature, and
their concomitants of snow and wind, exclude traffic from the region for
half the year. Consider, then, the situation when all travel was on foot
or horseback, and bases of supply were far away from all approaches to
this mountain crown. Adequate mountain exploration necessitated large
parties and elaborate outfits in the middle nineteenth century.
From these circumstances it is easy to understand why Lewis and Clark
missed Yellowstone. They adhered quite closely to the Missouri River
thoroughfare. However, as an incident of an extensive side trip on their
return, Clark and a detail of ten took an alternate route that
eventually brought them upon the Yellowstone River near the present site
of Livingston, Montana.[16] Previously, while at Fort Mandan, they had
learned that the Minnetaree Indian name for the river was “Mitsiadazi,”
which means Rock Yellow River. The French equivalent, Roche Juane, was
also in common use among the Indians and trappers, although when or by
whom the name was given is unknown. American trappers called the river
“Yallerstone!” A segment of the stream was trapped in 1805 by Antoine
Larocque’s party of North West Company trappers. They struck the river
at a point twenty trapping days above its mouth, which was reached on
September 30.[17]
The fact of the name’s currency is further attested by Patrick Gass’
significant journal entry on July 1, 1806: “Perhaps Capt. Clarke [sic]
who goes up the river here, may also take a party and go down the
Riviere Juane, or Yellowstone River.”[18] Beyond the Indian stream
names, little information concerning the area was ascertained by Lewis
and Clark at that time.
While Lewis and Clark did not add any knowledge of Yellowstone Park to
their epic-making report, still it was a member of the party who first
viewed its exotic beauty. However, before delineating Colter’s
discovery, the picture of the Park’s isolation should be explored
further.
The first thrust toward the Yellowstone country was made by the French
explorer de Verendrye, who came near the northeastern border in 1743
when he crossed the lower Yellowstone River, leaving Wonderland still
undiscovered.[19]
By 1810, the Missouri Fur Company established posts on the mouths of the
Bighorn and at Three Forks of the Missouri. Notwithstanding these
locations, there was little penetration of the “top of the world,” as
the Crow Indians called the Yellowstone country. Blackfoot Indian
hostility forced the abandonment of the post at Three Forks and in the
fall of 1810, Major Andrew Henry, one of the partners, led a small party
into the Pacific Ocean drainage. They went up the Madison River, thereby
skirting the Gallatin Range which bounds the Park on the west. They
crossed a low pass and came upon a beautiful lake. Henry’s name was
given the lake (Henrys Lake) and also to its outlet (Henrys Fork of the
Snake River), which they followed about forty miles below its
debouchment into Snake River Valley. In a pleasant spot some four miles
below the present St. Anthony Falls they erected Fort Henry, but they
did not prosper there and, feeling discouraged and insecure, abandoned
that post. In 1811, Henry released his trappers, and while they returned
to the east by various routes all of them missed the Yellowstone
region.[20]
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Sacajawea with Lewis and Clark.]
As Henry’s men circled eastward a much larger expedition was threading
its course between the Wind River Mountains and the Tetons. In 1811,
Wilson Price Hunt led the “Overland Astorians,” a band of sixty
trappers, toward the Pacific. They reached Henry’s deserted post early
in August. It is probable that a member of this party inscribed a rock
“calling card” that reads: “Fort Henry 1811 by Capt. Hunt.” This marker
is now included in the historical collections of the Yellowstone Park
museums. It was found at the fort site in 1933 and donated to the museum
by Seasonal Park Ranger-Naturalist Merrill D. Beal.[21] Hunt’s party
unfortunately decided to switch from horses to hurriedly-made canoes,
which were launched upon Snake River near the fort. The hardship,
privation, and recurring peril experienced by this band are among the
most severe ever encountered by civilized men. Although they were
obliged to separate into three groups in order to subsist each part
finally reached the mouth of the Columbia. In 1812, a smaller party
called the “Returning Astorians,” under Robert Stuart, probably
discovered South Pass.[22]
Notwithstanding the extensive peregrinations of these splendid
wayfarers, Lewis and Clark, Andrew Henry, and Wilson Price Hunt,
Wonderland, large though it is, remained a place apart. Only one white
man had been sufficiently venturesome to gain entrance into the
enchanted land.
John Colter was the son of Joseph and Ellen Shields Colter. He was born
in or near Staunton, Virginia, probably in 1775.[23] Little is known of
Colter’s youth except that the family moved from Virginia to the
vicinity of Mayville, Kentucky, when he was about five years old. As
John grew to manhood it is evident that he possessed a restless urge to
be in the wilderness. An unparalleled opportunity to satisfy this desire
came upon the arrival of Captain Meriwether Lewis on his voyage down the
Ohio River. From this contact Colter joined the Lewis and Clark
Expedition at Louisville, Kentucky, on October 15, 1803.[24] The
following spring they were on their way up the Missouri. Doubtless he
was already experienced in woodcraft and the use of firearms. Strong,
active, and intelligent, he soon won the rank and privileges of a
hunter.
Colter’s fitness for the business of exploration was early recognized
and universally accepted.[25] For two years he shared the expedition’s
many trials and triumphs, but they had obviously failed to satisfy his
desire for adventure. Before the explorers returned, intrepid fur
traders were moving westward along the great Missouri artery as was
their custom. Two Illinoisans, John Dickson and Forest Hancock, were
encountered west of the Mandan Indian Villages in what is now the state
of North Dakota. They had high expectations of fortunes in fur, and from
them Colter caught the trapping fever. This was early in August of 1806.
They evidently recognized John Colter as a man after their own hearts
and offered to furnish him an equal share of their supplies. Then, and
there, they became boon companions, and Colter requested an honorable
discharge from government service. This wish was granted with the
understanding that no one else would request such consideration.[26]
The government party gave their comrade powder, lead, and other articles
that would be useful to him. Is this not evidence that he was in the
best possible standing with the company? Indeed, he was an admirable
embodiment of the American scout. He was a person of sturdy, athletic
frame, above the average height. He was physically quick, alert,
enduring, a fine shot, the ideal frontiersman. His greatest asset was an
extraordinary coordination of thought and action. This balance, combined
with an abundance of energy, made Colter particularly dynamic. Patient
and loyal, he performed his duties faithfully. In tribute to him a creek
tributary to the Clearwater River, near Lapwai, had already been named
Colter Creek. In numerous references to him his associates did not once
hint of any mean or selfish act. He was constantly possessed by good
temper, and he was of the open-countenanced Daniel Boone type cast.[27]
Surely Colter was fully qualified for high adventure because he was,
indeed, a two-fisted man with the sinews of a bear and the
surefootedness of a cougar. He was wholly unafraid of wild animals,
savages, or elements.
From August until the spring of 1807, this trio of Dickson, Hancock, and
Colter trapped and traded along the upper Missouri. Then Colter gathered
his pelts and started for St. Louis in a canoe. At the mouth of the
Platte River, toward the end of June, he met Manuel Lisa.[28] They also
struck up a friendship and bargain. Colter was still set for adventure
and his new friend had such an assignment. In this meeting the strongest
and boldest of the early American trappers of the West met the greatest
Missourian trader. Upon hearing Manuel Lisa’s plans, the travel and
weatherworn Colter turned westward for the second time, as a member of
the Lisa party.
Manuel Lisa proposed the establishment of posts on both sides of the
Continental Divide. His plan was to send men along the course of every
stream and out among the wandering tribes of Indians, until the commerce
of the entire country was in the control of the Missouri Company. He had
with him some of the most intrepid Kentucky and Tennessee hunters,
rawboned backwoodsmen with their long-barrelled flintlocks, which they
usually carried across their knees while on the boat. It was a larger
undertaking than any before, and he needed fighters who were experienced
and daring from the start.
As they neared the mud-hutted village of the Arickaras the warriors
swarmed forth but soon backed up before the leveled muskets of Lisa’s
hunters. The traders went ashore and smoked the pipe of peace with the
chiefs. This heretofore warlike tribe thereupon became temporarily
pacified and sought presents and traffic in scarlet cloth and trinkets.
The trappers purchased ponies from these Indians and struck westward
toward the Yellowstone Valley. In amazement they viewed the bad lands on
the north of the Bighorn. The party arrived at the mouth of the Bighorn
River on November 21 and began the building of Fort Raymond, usually
called “Manuel’s Fort,” which was their first trading post.[29] They
feared the Blackfeet Indians and considered it expedient to abide
temporarily in the land of the friendly Crows.
According to the authoritative report of Henry M. Brackenridge, Colter
was appointed to carry the news of this undertaking to all the Indian
tribes in the south.[30] Since this is an original reference to Colter’s
assignment it should be quoted:
He [Lisa] shortly after despatched Coulter [sic], the hunter ... to
bring some Indian nations to trade. This man, with a pack of thirty
pounds weight, his gun and some ammunition, went upwards of five
hundred miles to the Crow nation; gave them information, and proceeded
from thence to several other tribes....[31]
Thus, this rugged and dynamic man, now in his early thirties, entered
the wilderness on foot and alone, into an area unknown to his race. The
journey was a simple business enterprise. As he journeyed southward, he
contacted the many Crow clans.
Although practically everyone assumes that John Colter discovered
Yellowstone National Park in the early winter of 1807-08,[32] few
realize that there is no conclusive evidence to support the claim.
Therefore, a review of the proof is essential. The record is brief:
Colter did leave Fort Manuel (Raymond) in the fall of 1807.[33] Yet the
direction he took is not definitely mentioned, and no incident was
specifically recorded of any unique visitation. Still, soon after this
journey, Colter related strange tales of weird, natural phenomena.[34]
Few of the stories he told were chronicled in detail. However, it is a
matter of record that he claimed to have seen a large petrified fish
nearly fifty feet long,[35] numerous hot springs and geysers,[36] and a
great lake.
[Illustration: Manuel Lisa’s Fort built in 1807.]
Evidence that Colter saw a geyser basin is flimsy indeed.
Notwithstanding the uncertainty of Colter’s large travel experience, it
is obvious that somewhere, sometime, he saw something that impressed him
mightily. He must have waxed enthusiastic, because his recital evoked so
much ridicule from the trapper fraternity. For a half a century,
everywhere in the West, the mountain men argued and joked pro and con
about the mythical marvels of “Colter’s Hell.” By 1837, the story had
become common knowledge by reason of the following reference in
Washington Irving’s first edition of _The Adventures of Captain
Bonneville_:
A volcanic tract ... is found on ... one of the tributaries of the
Bighorn.... This ... place was first discovered by Colter, a hunter
belonging to Lewis and Clarke’s [sic] exploring party, who came upon
it in the course of his lonely wanderings, and gave such an account of
its gloomy terrors, its hidden fires, smoking pits, noxious streams,
and the all-pervading “smell of brimstone,” that it received, and has
ever since retained among trappers the name of “Colter’s Hell.”[37]
Irving’s description is significant because it is evidence of the
“Colter’s Hell” tradition current at that time. However, the location
assigned is incorrect. No gloomy terrors or hidden fires exist on
Stinking Water (now Shoshone River). As in other explorations of the
Colter case, Irving made guesses and assumptions.
Nothing has ever been found that states precisely when or where Colter
saw the wonders of Yellowstone. Yet, the fact persisted that sometime
between 1806 and 1810, somewhere between the Jefferson and Shoshone
rivers he saw them! And strange enough, in the fullness of time, his
spacious claims were wholly vindicated. This strange circumstance,
therefore, presents the student of early Western exploration with one of
the most difficult problems in regional history. Does the full discovery
of Yellowstone Park in 1870, _ipso facto_, prove the tradition of John
Colter’s earlier visitation?[38]
In the Colter case there are only two elements of primary evidence.
First, it is a matter of record that he made a journey from Fort Manuel
in the fall of 1807 and subsequently returned with an astonishing story
of natural wonders. Secondly, a famous map was published in 1814, based
upon the compilations of Lewis and Clark. Upon this Map of 1814 appears
a dotted line marked “Colter’s Route in 1807.”[39] It is generally
assumed that the dotted line actually marks the route of Colter’s
journey from Fort Manuel. Although the route charted cannot be accepted
literally, it is an important documentary link, worthy of the utmost
study. There is little upon the map that would confirm the existence of
Yellowstone’s marvels beyond the phrases “Boiling Spring,” and “Hot
Spring Brimstone,” but every trapper encountered boiling springs and
waters impregnated with bubbling gases having sulphurous odors. These
were not unusual. Hence, there is nothing indicated along that dotted
line that would guarantee anything extraordinary.[40]
Still, the known facts of Colter’s journey toward the headwaters of the
Bighorn in the fall of 1807 and the representation of his extensive
exploration to the west, a part of which is now Yellowstone National
Park, upon the Map of 1814 is highly significant. For one thing, it
proves that William Clark, who supplied the map sheets to Samuel
Lewis,[41] the Philadelphia cartographer, was particularly impressed by
Colter’s journey, otherwise it would not have been incorporated upon
this very important document.
According to this map, John Colter traveled in a southwesterly direction
from the mouth of the Bighorn River.[42] He must have mapped the area
because his route cast of the Absaroka Range (Yellowstone’s eastern
boundary) conforms so accurately with existing geographic conditions
that his journey to the Park’s border may be followed like tracks in the
snow. From Fort Manuel he ascended Pryors Fork some fifty miles to
Pryors Gap.[43] Passing through this opening, he crossed westward to
Clarks Fork, which he ascended to Dead Indian Creek. From there he
evidently quartered a divide to the south, which brought him upon a
river called Mick-ka-appa, where he first smelled sulphur. So he renamed
the stream Stinking Water River. It is known today as the North Fork of
Shoshone River. In ascending this stream, Colter quickly gained
elevation, and in a hanging valley about midway up the range he found a
clan of Indians for whom he was obviously searching. On the Map of 1814
they are identified as “Yep-pe, Band of Snake Indians, 1000 Souls.”
From these denizens of both prairie and mountain, Colter undoubtedly
first learned of the Yellowstone marvels. The acquisition of this
interesting information at a point in relatively close proximity to the
features, together with other favorable conditions, impelled him to
project an exploration of the “enchanted land.” After listening to
eloquent descriptions of the natural phenomena nothing could be more
natural than for such an adventurous explorer to experience an intense
desire to visit the country. Remember, his mission of informing the
clans concerning the establishment of Fort Manuel at the mouth of the
Bighorn River had been performed. Now he was on his own with leisure
time on his hands. Although the season was advanced, late November often
finds the Park open for travel. Tribal accounts describing a vast
wilderness of multiform grandeur made the restless trapper burn with
curiosity. One can easily envision him weighing the factors of distance,
time, and the known hazards, until he struck a favorable balance. His
sign talk in council with the chiefs could probably be sifted out and
summarized in these terms: “Less than two hundred miles ... the trails
are known by your scouts, and they are still open.... A matter of five
or six suns ... your horses are fat and strong ... game is plentiful....
Well, what are we waiting for?”
Such an appraisal of the situation is in complete accord with the known
realities. Colter was an experienced explorer; he knew how to conduct an
expedition. This procedure eliminates the element of foolhardiness so
conspicuous in the usual picture visualized of a solitary trapper on
snowshoes, wending an uncertain course among river labyrinths running in
various directions, mountain ranges of interminable lengths, and
gargoylian lakes. Instead, the enterprise now conforms to a standard
characteristic of Colter’s levelheaded courage and judgment. Of course
he may have gone alone and on foot, but if so why, after leaving the
Yellowstone country, did he depart from the straight-of-way down Clarks
Fork toward Fort Manuel and head back to the Yep-pe village as the map
so clearly shows? Logic insists that Indian scouts were with him, or at
least that he had borrowed a horse from them, which he was obliged to
return. Thus, Colter’s famous journey into the land of scenic mystery
was efficiently accomplished late in November. With the aid of Yep-pe
Indian leaders, if not under their guidance, he had gone where no white
man had ever been before, and he still reached Manuel’s Fort in good
season, or else the Map of 1814 would not have been inscribed “Colter’s
Route in 1807.”
But, where precisely in Yellowstone Park did Colter travel? This
question poses an extremely difficult problem in research. (The serious
student will find the many ramifications involved in the problem
explored more fully in the Appendix.) Unfortunately the dotted line
appearing on the Map of 1814, marked “Colter’s Route in 1807,” is of no
help whatever in answering the question. In fact, the map complicates
the problem because the geography depicted on the western loop, or
so-called Yellowstone Park section of the map, is wholly fictitious.
Unlike the valid section east of the Absarokas, the western section
bears no similarity to anything in Yellowstone Park, Wyoming, Idaho,
Montana, America, the world, or the moon! It is, in fact, a plat of
bogus geography comparable only to the kind found in Jonathan Swift’s
_Gulliver’s Travels_. In short, it is obvious that “Colter’s Route in
1807,” beyond the Yep-pe village, was not properly described because it
depicts him as visiting the drainage of all the river systems within a
radius of five hundred miles of that Indian encampment. The most obvious
errors in that part of the map which impinges upon the western section
of this so-called “Colter’s Route” are:
(1) Three Forks are shown to the northeast instead of northwest.
(2) Lake Biddle, usually identified as Jackson Lake, could only be
Brooks Lake and be on the Bighorn drainage. Jackson Lake lies due
south about fifty miles, on the other side of the Continental Divide.
(3) The Rio Del Norte (Green River of the Colorado) is far and away to
the south. It is grotesquely misplaced.
(4) The South Fork of Snake River is not depicted, neither is the
Jackson Lake area.
(5) Upper Yellowstone River is not shown, and Lake Eustis (presumed to
be Lake Yellowstone) is fantastic in all respects.
In view of these egregious errors it is a monumental mistake to insist,
as so many authors in effect have done, that Colter was a human
helicopter who hopped all over the Rocky Mountains in connection with
his Yellowstone exploration. Actual geography and common sense prove
that he could not possibly have made such an extensive journey,
particularly so late in the season. Just as certainly, geography and
common sense attest that in traveling a normal western loop essential to
yield conformity with the map’s figure eight[44] Colter would have seen
precisely the type of country the Map of 1814 does not depict, but
which, nevertheless, is actually there! A normal half circle would have
brought him upon the Upper Yellowstone River, South Fork of Snake River,
Yellowstone Lake, and the thermal areas at Thumb of Lake and Hayden
Valley. These paint pots, hot springs, and geysers, particularly
Dragon’s Mouth and Mud Volcano, satisfy the descriptions he made and
easily meet the requirement of the terms on the map, “Boiling Spring,”
“Hot Springs Brimstone,” and also Washington Irving’s reference “... of
gloomy terrors, hidden fires, smoking pits, noxious streams....” In
effect, these areas alone would qualify as “Colter’s Hell.”
[Illustration: J. N. Barry
Eastern section of Colter’s route.]
[Illustration: A true sketch of the Cody, Wyoming, area as it is
mapped today.]
[Illustration: The east sector of Colter’s route as depicted on the
Map of 1814. Note the conformity with actual geography. The only
material difference is in names.]
It is now possible to accurately sketch both parts of Colter’s famous
journey. Firstly, from Fort Manuel he reached the Yep-pe Indian camp and
returned to the mouth of the Bighorn River where Fort Manuel was built,
exactly as the map depicts. It is because of the accuracy of this
section of the Map of 1814 that Colter’s Yellowstone course may be now
traced like tracks in the snow. Secondly, from the Yep-pe Indian camp,
Colter ascended “Elk-Wapiti Creek” to its source; then crossing a range
he came upon a mitten-shaped mountain, which he labeled “fossil.”[45]
From this landmark he probably descended Pass Creek to Thorofare Creek,
which he followed to the Upper Yellowstone River. Then he ascended
Atlantic Creek and crossed the Continental Divide at Two Ocean Pass.
From here he descended Pacific Creek, skirted Big Game Ridge, and
crossed the South Fork of Snake River, within the present confines of
the Park. Thence, along Chicken Ridge, from whence he could frequently
view South Arm, he headed toward Flat Mountain Arm, crossed Solution
Creek, and struck West Thumb.[46] The validity of this itinerary is
wholly sustained by the genuine features of this area as they appear
upon the Map of 1814. Indeed, the route seems obvious and indisputable
in view of the actual conditions existing. There are alternative routes
within certain limitations. On a crude map where there are numerous
similar streams various combinations are possible.[47]
[Illustration: Section from map of 1814 depicting Lewis and Clark
route. Its legend reads: “A map of Lewis and Clark’s Track, Across
the Western Portion of North America, From the Mississippi to the
Pacific Ocean; By Order of the Executive of the United States in
1804, 5, 6. Copied by Samuel Lewis from the Original Drawing of Wm.
Clark.”]
Leaving West Thumb, Colter circled the Lake to its outlet and followed
it to the Hayden Valley thermal area. Dragon’s Mouth and the Mud Volcano
were undoubtedly features contributing to the impression he carried away
and transmitted to others. Even the “Hot Springs Brimstone”
characterization on the Map of 1814 mildly suggests violent thermal
activity. The phrase also suggests that Colter mapped a geyser
basin.[48]
Colter’s return route from Hayden Valley supplies the final link in the
figure eight. To reach the Yep-pe Indian camp he might have veered to
the northeast, crossed Yellowstone River at a ford below Dragon’s Mouth,
and ascended Pelican Creek or one of the tributaries of the Lamar River.
After crossing the Absarokas, he evidently descended one of the creeks
that empty into Clarks Fork. No one on earth can be certain about this
part of his journey. There is no reference anywhere, and the Map of 1814
gives no clue. Still, he did reach a tributary of Clarks Fork, which he
followed to its junction with Dead Indian Creek, thence to the Yep-pe
band. As stated above, Colter left the Yep-pe village in returning to
Fort Manuel by a different route than the one that brought him there.
This fact, together with his return to the Yep-pe Indian camp, is of the
first importance in assessing the validity of Colter’s Yellowstone
discovery.
While Colter’s journey in Yellowstone proper was not comprehensive,
still he was definitely oriented and reasonably precise. Truly, Colter
crossed the eastern and central parts of Yellowstone’s Wonderland, and
he observed its features closely. Companions were duly apprised of these
marvels. Members of the Lisa party thereafter referred to the region as
“Colter’s Hell.” In May, 1810, when he reached St. Louis, William Clark
was officially informed. It was then that Clark believed in Colter’s
story and passed it on to Nicholas Biddle and Samuel Lewis who were in
Philadelphia. Notwithstanding considerable misapprehension as to facts,
Colter’s journey was nevertheless depicted after a fashion on the
remarkable Map of 1814. Upon this evidence alone, John Colter became
accredited as the first white man to enter the Yellowstone Park country,
hence its first discoverer. Here, indeed, was a man worthy of making a
great discovery. He was a dreadnaught, if there ever was one; completely
self-reliant; unafraid of forests, deserts, rivers, or mountains,
including all of their denizens; yet withal, a serious-minded person of
integrity. He is entitled to everlasting credit in the field of western
geographical exploration.
Eventually, Colter found himself back in Lisa’s Fort. He had discovered
the interesting Two Ocean Pass across the Rocky Mountains into the Snake
River drainage. He was the first white man to touch upon the
northeastern perimeter of majestic Jackson Hole country. Then, as the
climax of all, he was the first to climb still higher and gaze upon the
marvels of a never-to-be-forgotten land. Has it ever been the fortune of
any other man to explore such a vast domain of virgin territory? It is a
strange paradox that, accustomed as mountain men were to impressive
manifestations of nature, Colter’s relation of Yellowstone’s wonders
only won him the distinction of a confirmed prevaricator.[49]
While Colter’s experience after 1807 has little bearing upon the history
of Yellowstone, it is a part of the heritage of the Old West and
therefore essential for the unity of the narrative.[50] In the autumn of
1808, Colter and a companion named Potts invaded the hunting grounds of
the Blackfeet Indians in the vicinity of Three Forks forming the
Missouri. Early one morning they were setting a line of traps along
either the Jefferson, Madison, or Gallatin rivers, about a day’s travel
from their point of junction.[51] As they were silently paddling the
canoe, they heard a resounding noise that resembled the muffled pounding
of feet. Colter was apprehensive about Indians, and since perpendicular
banks obstructed their view he advised hiding. However, his impulsive
companion accused him of cowardice; why run from buffalo? Almost within
the moment a band of “Black Devils” burst through the thicket into full
view. Colter kept cool and rowed for the bank. As they drew closer to
the enemy, Potts dropped his paddle and picked up his rifle. This
gesture was interpreted as an act of defiance by the Blackfeet braves. A
stalwart savage leaped into the water and snatched Potts’ rifle out of
his hands. Whereupon, with an air of mastery that Indians respect,
Colter stepped to the bank, wrested the weapon from the warrior’s grasp,
and returned it to Potts.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Colter and Potts under attack.]
The Blackfeet were now swarming through the brush, but Colter, calm and
poised, raised his hand palm forward in the peace signal. Potts, now
convinced that flight was the only hope, nosed the canoe toward
mid-stream. Suddenly a bowstring twanged, and Potts cried out, “Colter,
I’m wounded.” Colter urged him to come ashore, but instead he leveled
his rifle at an Indian and fired. Instantly a score of arrows entered
his body or, in Colter’s language, “he was made a riddle of,” and he
slumped lifeless in the canoe.[52] Calm and flintlike Colter stood his
ground. As the chief sized up the situation, a dozen warriors identified
the survivor as the white man who raised havoc among them in a battle
with a band of Crow Indians.[53] This knowledge caused the braves to
clamor for setting him up as a mark to shoot at, but their chief
interfered. He stood in great dignity and said, “This is a brave
warrior. We will see how bravely he can die.”[54] Then, seizing the
victim by the shoulders, he asked him if he could run fast. To this
query Colter replied with a chop-fallen air that he was slow. Actually,
he was an excellent sprinter. Several hundred Indians swarmed about,
working up their emotions toward the victim. First they denuded him,
then motioned him to move forward perhaps a hundred yards, from whence
he was signalled to run toward a “v” shaped open prairie of some six
miles expanse. Colter had drawn a chance to save himself if he could! He
accepted the challenge and resolved to make the most of it. As the war
whoops sounded, Colter was away with the dash of an antelope. He bounded
and ran until his lungs burned within him, and he ruptured a blood
vessel in his nose. On he sped, mile after mile, until the chorus of
Indian yells grew fainter and fainter. All of Colter’s muscles cried out
for a moment’s respite. He looked around and beheld a spear-armed
warrior some twenty yards behind him, coming fast to split him in two.
Upon impulse, Colter whirled in his tracks, and running obliquely, gave
the signal for mercy. The reply was a thrust spear, but the brave made a
false step, stumbled, and fell. He was obviously astonished at Colter’s
gory appearance. The badly launched spear struck in the ground and was
broken off. In a surge of hope and strength, the powerful Colter lunged
like a stag at bay, and overpowering the Indian, he seized the barbed
half and impaled his fallen foe to the earth!
If the Blackfeet had possessed a spirit of chivalry they would have
called quits to this ordeal by running and combat. Here was a man who
had outrun the cream of the redskin sprinters and, unarmed, had slain an
armed warrior. Surely such a performance should have won the captive’s
freedom. But the Blackfoot code made no allowance for heroic behavior in
the enemy.
On came the braves, more ruddy than usual by reason of their exertions
and more fleet than normal because of the caliber of the quarry. Colter
needed no spear now; he fairly vaulted until he gained the river bank,
and diving into the stream he concealed himself under a jam of driftwood
or beaver dam that impinged upon an island. Here he secreted himself
while they howled and thrashed about for hours, yelling, as Colter said,
“like a legion of devils.” When darkness came, like an angel of mercy,
he dragged his aching body from its watery prison, silently swam across
the river, and started the second excruciating lap in his race for
life.[55] Manuel Lisa’s Fort was two hundred miles away.
After seven days of hiding and nights of painful travel and exposure he
found his way through Bozeman Pass and eventually reached the fort at
the mouth of the Bighorn. During this “ordeal by travel” he had no
sustenance other than roots known as _psoralea esculenta_, or sheep
sorrel.[56] Again there was momentary disposition among the trappers to
question Colter’s veracity, but the evidence was unimpeachable, and it
was written plainly where all might see. He seemed only a shadow of his
former self.
According to James, even this terrible experience did not daunt the
lion-hearted trapper, “Dangers seemed to have for him a kind of
fascination.”[57] Colter could not reconcile himself to the loss of the
traps he had dropped in the river during the attack. Soon after his
recovery, he ventured again into the forbidden Three Forks region. At
his first night’s camp he was attacked, but he contrived to escape.
Whereupon, he vowed to his maker that he would never return.[58]
Acting upon this resolution Colter started his third voyage down the
Missouri. While he was resting in one of the upper Minnetarre villages,
probably in September of 1809, Manuel Lisa arrived. The Three Forks
country was his destination and Colter must show him the way.
By midwinter a strong detachment was on its way, headed by Pierre Menard
as bourgeois commander, Andrew Henry as field captain, and John Colter
as guide. The party arrived at Three Forks on April 3, 1810 and built a
post. Within a fortnight the Blackfeet attacked. Five trappers were
killed, and most of the horses and equipment disappeared. It was a
crushing blow to the enterprise, and for Colter, the final straw. James
states that Colter came into the fort, spoke of his promise to God,
repented of his foolhardy return, and said, “If God will only forgive me
this time and let me off I will leave the country day after tomorrow and
be d——d if I ever come into it again.”[59] Several days later he and a
companion slipped through the Indian lines and in due time reached Fort
Manuel. From there the two men departed for St. Louis in a dugout and
reached that frontier capital on the last day of May. They had
negotiated the distance of 2,500 water miles in the incredible time of
thirty days.[60] Is it any wonder that other trappers referred to
“Colter’s large experience”?
For over five years he had been among barbarian people, and of certain
torments he had more than enough. His life had been one of hard toil and
high adventure; now he would seek peace and quiet.
Captain Meriwether Lewis had passed away, but William Clark was a person
of authority. He was Brigadier General of Militia and Superintendent of
Indian Affairs. To Clark, Colter gave geographical data, a part of which
appeared on the map published in 1814 in the Biddle-Allen edition of the
journals. Colter was unable to collect the wages due him as a member of
the famous expedition so he brought suit against the Lewis estate and
secured partial compensation. His trapping claims for services to Thomas
James were unavailing as the latter could not collect from the fur
company. While in St. Louis attending to this vexatious business he
undoubtedly related his experiences to General William Clark. The
latter, in turn, passed the story along to John Bradbury, the English
scientist, and James M. Brackenridge, an American author. Such men
accepted his report at face value. Concerning him, James wrote, “His
veracity was never questioned among us.”[61] Lesser people were more
incredulous, and Colter’s reputation suffered accordingly.
Colter took up a tract of bounty land on the south bank of the Missouri
in the vicinity of Dundee village, Franklin county. There the great
wanderer, with his bride Sally, turned to the prosaic routine of
farming. Wilson Price Hunt’s expedition found him there and offered him
a position as guide. Bradbury said he accompanied them for several
miles, balancing in his mind the charms of his bride against those of
the Rocky Mountains. However, the life of steady habits won, but not for
long, as he died of jaundice in 1813.
During the subsequent half century Colter’s reputation evolved by
degrees through the following stages: bare-faced prevaricator,
devil-take-care mountain roamer, accidental discoverer of Yellowstone
National Park. From the present perspective he appears much more than a
scout and explorer. He was something of an economist and prophet,
because he is said to have told Henry M. Brackenridge that where he had
been, “a loaded wagon would find no obstruction in passing over the
Rocky Mountains.”[62]
On Yellowstone maps a single conspicuous feature commemorates Colter’s
work. It is Colter’s Peak near the southeastern point of Yellowstone
Lake. May it ever stand aloof, towering and quite inaccessible; a
fitting monument to a gallant scout. Such a man should never be
forgotten because he was master of the untamed West.
Chapter III
INDIANS IN AND AROUND YELLOWSTONE
A description of the Indian background is an integral part of all early
American history. An appreciation of the “Old West” is impossible
without an understanding of the Indian problem.
Yellowstone was not the original homeland of any distinct Indian tribe.
In comparatively recent time, probably about 1800, it became the refuge
for a small and degenerate band of Tukuarika, or sheep-eating Indians.
They had formerly lived in the Montana and Dakota country but had been
driven into seclusion by the powerful Blackfoot nation. The several
branches of Shoshones residing in Yellowstone environs were Bannocks,
Snakes, Tukuarikas, and Flatheads. The Crows came from other Indian
sources. All of these Indians possessed certain racial characteristics
of the red race. In view of various conflicting ideas, a few
observations about the people as a whole are expedient.
Indians are human beings possessing the sensibilities and emotions of
white men. However, their manner of living and conception of life has
been relatively low. Even so, it is difficult to generalize upon them as
a people. As Chief Washakie once said, “Indians very much like white
men—some good, some bad.” It is generally conceded that they were proud,
so haughty in fact that they lacked that quality of mind so essential to
progress or adjustment, humility or teachability. They could not learn
because they would not admit that they lacked anything. They were the
“chosen people.” Originally they looked upon the hard-working white
people as slaves and referred to them by no other name.
As a rule Indian braves were arrogant lords, not to be degraded by
menial toil. It was enough for them to expose themselves to the
hardships of fighting and hunting. They would proudly bring home the
trophies of war and the hunt. They were also diligent in caring for
their weapons and horses in preparation for future exploits. Much
leisure time was expended upon personal ornamentation and in talking
about the news of the day and affairs of the tribe. The Indians’
inordinate pride was revealed in every movement. The men in particular
possessed a free and easy bearing. This natural grace of action was
probably facilitated by their practice of living in a semi-nude
condition.[63]
Indians were much more cunning and adroit than the wildest game. They
were fleet and stealthy, deceitful and cruel. To gain an advantage over
prey or an enemy by strategy was their greatest joy and constituted the
primary requisite for leadership. To be mentioned by one’s tribesmen as
a great warrior or a cunning horse thief was the highest ambition of an
Indian, and many were past masters at both these hazardous hobbies. The
greatest among them was the one with the most “coups” to his credit,
such as scalps, stolen horses, and captured enemies. Making coups
entitled the brave to wear an eagle feather in his hair and emblazon it
upon his robe; by this token he was distinguished for heroic action.[64]
On the whole they were revengeful and vindictive. If an injury, real or
fancied, were done to them by a particular person, it was a solemn duty
to retaliate either against him or someone else. Many cases can be
adduced to sustain this principle. In 1809, a trapper named Carson
accepted a banter from a band of Arickaras to shoot among their enemy
Sioux, who were across the Missouri a half mile away. The reckless
trapper shot and killed one of the Sioux warriors. The following year
three white men were slain by the Sioux to expiate this crime. The
Indian code demanded blood for blood, the more the better. They were
seldom inclined toward chivalry; mercy had no part in their code. It was
hard, relentless, and primitive. By the strong hand they lived, and by
the strong arm only were they awed. Forays, feuds, battles, that was the
life! They painted, dressed, danced, and prayed for war.
And yet, in a way, they had poetic souls. The beauty and grandeur of
nature revealed itself in their dignified bearing. Many were majestic in
appearance, poised of manner, and eloquent in speech. Some of them were
gifted storytellers who entertained their hearers. Others were great
speakers who instructed them in the legendary lore of the tribe. Still
others were artists, musicians, skilled artisans in many lines; and
there were medicine men.
Tribal organization was based upon the family unit, which was
monogamous, except in the case of the chief men who usually had several
wives. The chief’s lodge occupied a central position in the village,
with other leaders’ abodes surrounding. The women, too, observed a style
of dress in keeping with their respective stations. Heredity in
leadership was unknown; men became chiefs by reason of their cunning and
courage in war, wisdom in council, and generosity toward the
tribesmen.[65]
In the matter of economics most mountain Indians were novices. It is
undoubtedly true that early American settlers received important initial
aid from the Indians in raising crops. They taught the whites how to
raise the very products that still constitute the backbone of American
production: maize, potatoes, tobacco, cotton, squash, and beans. But
instead of improving along with the settlers, they generally preferred
the ways of their fathers. They did not lack the means for the
production and preservation of food so much as the energy and ability to
anticipate future necessity.
In the Rocky Mountains, where nature was quite inhospitable (without
irrigation), the natives were even less thrifty than elsewhere. When
food was plentiful they would gormandize to the uttermost, living
contentedly. When confronted by famine they would languish in
starvation. Natural forces battered them roughly. There was fasting, but
there were buffalo brains and tongues too—earth’s supreme dish!
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Mountain Indian clan.]
The women and girls were practically slaves to their husbands and
brothers. They were inured in hardships and possessed much forbearance
and self-denial. Their homemaking work was arduous. They dressed all
game and gathered nuts, berries, fuel, and roots. They made bows,
arrows, lodges, travois, and clothing. The packing and moving, striking
lodges and general routine was women’s work.[66] There was never the
slightest disposition to complain among them; in fact, they were
inclined to despise a brave who departed from the usual patterns. He
would be called “old woman” and his squaw, if any, often received a
castigation. Maidens were required to be modest, wear robes at all
times, and look seriously upon life. Marriages were arranged by parents
with the consent of near relations. The desires of the young people were
given consideration, if reasonable, but the decision was made by the
girl’s father.
Meat was the mainstay of life among Indians, and a considerable supply
was available before white men came. In spite of inadequate weapons, the
natives had numerous effective methods of securing wild game. Most
hunters were masters of what was called the cabalistical language of
birds and beasts. By this means they were able to approach many animals
closely and slay them. Bison were sometimes driven into natural arenas
where a gory slaughter ensued. Occasionally these great beasts were
maneuvered into runs, from which they were stampeded pellmell over a
precipice.[67] Generally they were simply chased and shot down at full
gallop. This procedure required great dexterity in loading and
discharging weapons. Of course the hunter’s full attention was given to
the target because his hunting horse took care of himself. He
anticipated every move of the prey. With eyes flashing, nostrils
distended, and foam flowing from his mouth, the trained steed sprang
after the deceptive buffalo in swift execution of his master’s will.
The war horse was even more highly prized than a hunter. Animals of
exotic appearance had double or treble value over ordinary steeds and
were claimed by the chiefs. The proud warrior went to as much pains to
adorn his horse as he did himself. Nothing could induce him to neglect
or mistreat his favorite.
In their palmy days, the Indians largely confined their efforts to
pursuit of big game. In later years they had reluctant recourse to
smaller animals. Rabbits were encircled—sometimes by a chain of fire.
Ground squirrels were drowned out, and all types of animal life were
utilized for food. The products of the buffalo, deer, elk, antelope,
goat, bear, beaver, and numerous small animals and fish gave them
strength for the pursuit of more game and the enemy. Many different
combinations of meat, roots, nuts, and berries were known to the
Indians. Pemmican was a mixture of pounded dried meat, grease, and
service berries. When properly prepared and packed in skins this food
would keep indefinitely.[68]
The camas and yamp plants were the Indian’s bread. These roots are about
an inch in diameter, and they have a sweetish taste while fresh, but
they are more palatable when baked in earthen ovens. Either of these
roots contains nutriment sufficient to support life, and often mountain
Indians were obliged to subsist on this slender fare.
From a white man’s viewpoint the dominant element in Indian religion was
superstition. A stark animism prevailed in every cult. They believed
that the different animals had either good or evil spirits and that they
should be revered or feared according to their nature. The sun in
particular was an object of worship. Each young man diligently sought
his own strong medicine. The ritual varied but usually involved
solitude, exertion, fasting, and extreme exposure. During this vigil the
youth received a new name and a symbol of power. In due time these signs
of maturity were manifest among the tribe and a status therein was
secured.
Illness and death were attributed to the influence of evil spirits. The
chief remedy for sickness was the sweat house. This was a mystic shrine
both for temporal and spiritual blessing. The health seekers would rub
their bodies with the tips of fir boughs, and thus the steam would
effectively penetrate their bodies in a few minutes. Several sweats,
each followed by a dip in a stream, constituted a bath, except when the
spiritual interest predominated. In that case the votary might remain in
the sweat house for hours or even days.
In respect to amusement Indians had unusual interest. That they were
stoical at all times is an erroneous idea. They laughed and joked and
engaged in many games.[69] Their singing was largely extemporaneous,
accompanied by instruments of the crudest type. A horse race had
tremendous appeal for the “bucks,” who sometimes gambled away everything
they possessed, including their wives and children. In general, the
social life of Indians was notable for its excesses. Certain seasonal
festivals were held in which the element of worship was interwoven with
hilarity. Before going upon a hunt the Indians were wont to clothe some
of the hunters in hides of the game, buffalo, or elk. These “bucks”
would then cavort around in the manner of the game desired. In all this
there was an air of expectancy and supplication.
Smoking was another semi-sacred ceremony by which oaths and agreements
were secured. A ritual was usually observed. They relied heavily upon
innumerable supernatural symbols and routines.
Such were the general characteristics and customs possessed by all of
the mountain Indians. A marked degree of differentiation among them
would justify a brief description of each. Of course these differences
are only apparent to the discerning eye. Factors of physiognomy, dress,
and speech are recognizable upon close observation.[70] However, it is
not an easy matter to express these different characteristics in words.
The Bannocks (also Bannacks)— This name is derived from the Shoshoni
word “bamp,” which means “hair,” and “nack,” which signifies “a backward
motion.” It is also said that these Indians made cakes from acorn flour,
pulverized grasshoppers, and currant jelly which so resembled the Scotch
bannock cake in shape and flavor that some Scotch trapper applied this
name to the tribe. There were approximately two thousand Bannocks in
1810, and they claimed the country southwest of Yellowstone. It was this
tribe which made a deep trail across Yellowstone in going to and
returning from their buffalo hunts. Bannocks were tall, straight,
athletic people, possessed of more physical courage than most Indians.
In a defensive way they were the most warlike of all Indians.
The Shoshoni or Snake Indians— This tribe of natives lived in the upper
Snake River Valley. According to Alexander Ross, the Snake Indians were
so named because of their characteristic quick concealment of themselves
when discovered. “They glide with the subtility of the serpent.”
However, Indians interpreted the word “Shoshoni” as meaning
“inland.”[71] Father DeSmet stated: “They are called Snakes because in
their poverty they are reduced like reptiles to the condition of digging
in the ground and seeking nourishment from roots.”[72] They lived in
peace with the Flatheads and Nez Percés in the north and were at war
with the Blackfeet, Crows, Bannocks, and Utahs. The Snakes were
dependable participants in the trappers’ rendezvous so often held in the
Green River Valley in the second quarter of the nineteenth century.
TyGee was a leading chief during much of the nineteenth century. The
Targhee Forest was named after this Snake chieftain. They were a short,
very dark, heavy-set people, with small feet and hands but large chests
and shoulders. Their disposition was quite peaceful and friendly toward
other people, although they were very suspicious. They were excellent
horsemen and good fighters when aroused. The whole nation consisted of
about a thousand, but it was broken into bands, some of which were vital
and murderous while others, such as the “Diggers,” were degraded and
impoverished. Their great and constant occupation was to obtain food,
and they were disposed to eat almost anything.
[Illustration: Photo by W. H. Jackson
_Family of Sheepeater Indians_]
Tukuarikas or Sheepeater Indians— “Tuku” means “mountain sheep” and
“arika,” “eat,” or “Sheepeater.” They were a slender, wiry people who
possessed neither ponies nor firearms but used bows and arrows
effectively. They wore furs and skins and lived among the rocks in the
Gardner River canyon in Yellowstone and in the Salmon River Mountains of
central Idaho. There were some two hundred Indians in the Yellowstone
tribe. Their main support was from game and fish. These Indians did not
possess any distinctive culture of their own, but, hermit-like, they
seemed concerned only to carry on by themselves until further notice.
The Flatheads— This tribe lived in western Montana. The Flatheads roamed
the prairie between Glacier National Park and the Bitter Root Range.
Lake Flathead was their favorite rendezvous. These Indians supposedly
derived their name from an ancient practice of shaping or deforming the
head during infancy. However, in 1830, Ferris claimed that not one
living proof of that practice could be found among them. They called
themselves “Salish” and spoke a language remarkable for its melody and
simplicity. They were noted for humanity, forbearance, and honesty. They
were certainly one of the few tribes in the Rocky Mountains who could
boast that they never killed or robbed a white man nor stole a single
horse.
The Blackfeet— This was a branch of the great Algonquian Nation. They
were the Ishmaelites of the west; indeed, they were the most “teutonic”
of all American Indians. Their hands were against every man, and the
hands of all men, both red and white, were against them.[73] Their
habitat was the Marias River Valley in Montana, but they were known as
the devils of the mountains and prairies. All who knew them agreed with
trader Bird’s observation made to Kenneth McKenzie: “When you know the
Blackfeet as well as I do you will know that they do not need any
inducements to commit depredations.” They were always hostile and
predatory, and their wanderings were most extensive. The tribal name,
meaning “Siksi,” “black,” and “kah,” “foot,” alluded to feet made black
by roving through the ashes of regions devastated by fires. The
Blackfeet were great meat eaters and because of their energy they were
generally well supplied. They had horses and guns from an early time,
and they wore leather clothing, often highly decorated with beadwork.
The Absaroka or Crow Nation— Absaroka means sparrow hawk. The name was
derived from a species found in Mexico. Does that imply a southern
origin? Surely the name suggests their nefarious traffic in stolen
horses. They would steal them on one side of the range and dispose of
them on the other.[74] This was the strongest band of mountain Indians.
That is to say, Crowland was a transitional area that skirted the east
slope of the Rockies along the Yellowstone and Bighorn rivers.
Therefore, these people were masters of both plain and defile. They were
notorious travelers. They roved in several villages of six or seven
hundred each. In fact, the phrase “all-pervading Crows” implies the
character of their winging flight from mountain to prairie. Indeed, they
prided themselves upon their superiority over all other nations. The men
were tall, active, intelligent, and brave. They had a particular
penchant for adornment. Rows of elk’s teeth trimmed their garments. Men
wore long hair; women, short. They referred to themselves as “Absaroka”
with great esteem. The tribal slogan was “Bac’ dak Ko’m Ba wiky,”
meaning “While Crow live, Crow carry on.”
They were a well-disciplined people. Women were given a voice in council
but were most noted for their industry and skill. According to Warren A.
Ferris, Crow women were notoriously unfaithful, which, if true, was
measurably contrary to the general condition among Indians. Among the
men lust for fame was the end and purpose of life. Crow war psychology
was a blend of cruelty, vanity, greed, foolhardiness, and magnificent
courage. Old Sapsucker was the most famous Crow Chieftain. He won this
distinction by many years of fighting. Horses were at once their passion
and glory. Even infants of two years could ride, while older youths rode
horses that careened and dashed up and down among the most dangerous
places. The nation of 3,500 people owned some 10,000 horses. Adult Crow
horsemen were unexcelled. They combined agility and dignity to an
unusual degree. Mounted on fine-mettled animals, without saddle or
bridle, and bounding bare-bodied over the prairie in the panoply of
speed and power, they were fine pictures to behold!
Crows made free booty of everything that chanced in their way. Horses in
particular were the objects of their depredations. They developed
astonishing skill and audacity in capturing them. As horse thieves they
were world-beaters. “No legislative body on earth ever made an
appropriation with half the tact, facility, and success.” The following
represents the mature judgment of James Stuart:
One thing is certain: They can discount all the thieves I ever saw or
heard of; in short, they have to be seen to realize their superiority
over all thieves, either white, red, or black, in the world. They
would steal the world-renowned Arabs poor in a single hour.[75]
Other mountain Indians whose activities had less bearing upon the
Yellowstone area were the Herantsa or Gros Ventres. They referred to
themselves by the former name; whereas the latter was a French
designation. Of course, it was inappropriate because they did not have
large paunches. Their homeland was the Wind River range.
East of Wind River lies the Laramie Plains, and there lived a band named
Cheyennes. They were civil, well-behaved people, cleanly in their
persons and decorous in their habits. The men were tall and vigorous,
with aquiline noses and high cheek bones. Some were almost as naked as
ancient statues and might well have stood as models for that purpose.
East of the Crow and Cheyenne homelands ranged various divisions of the
great Siouan family. The Sioux of Dakota, Arapaho, Omaha, and Mandan
were the most distinct clans on the near-eastern slope of the Rockies.
These tribes were typical of the plains Indians and as mutually hostile
as any of the others.[76]
Indian proper names were more appropriate than those given by the
settlers. Some of the latter were commonplace, stupid, and, at times,
ribald. The aboriginal tribes sensed the magnificence of nature.
Therefore, their characterizations were both significant and euphonious.
Montana was derived from “Tay-a-be-shock-up,” “country of the mountains”
or “land of the everlasting hills.” Wyoming means “land of shining
prairies.” Utah means “the home of the high-ups,” and Idaho, “sun
descending upon the mountains.”
All in all, the Indian regime of life was a curious blend of love and
hate, of work and warfare. Indian life had as many facets as there were
periods, places, and tribes involved.
Chapter IV
PORTRAIT OF A TRAPPER BRIGADE
The character of the barbarian elements that encircled the Yellowstone
area has been given. Their position was sufficiently menacing to prevent
penetration of the continental crown except by a chosen few. The
relation of the trapper’s activity to the Park can only be appreciated
by an examination of the subject himself.
The Rocky Mountain fur trappers were a distinct group. They were just as
singular in dress, interests, skills, and general characteristics as the
cowboys and miners who succeeded them. When was their genesis and
exodus? It falls entirely within the scope of nineteenth century
history. Hence, the record is clear; it has few legendary figures.
However, a generalized characterization would seem appropriate. Their
predecessors were the earlier explorers of several nations, French,
Spanish, English, with a sprinkling of other races. All of these
elements pressed ever westward, chained by neither time nor distance. In
their migrations from Kentucky to the River of the West (Missouri)
excitement had become as necessary as life itself; adventure, as the
breath of their nostrils. Until 1810 those woodsmen found hunting and
trapping on the plains sufficiently challenging, but after the return of
Lewis and Clark they donned buckskin suits and moved into the Rockies.
From these shining mountains they were not to emerge until they learned
by heart the geography upon the sundown side of the wide Missouri.
The French couriers of the woods were best endowed by nature for this
roving life. Their easygoing temperament inclined them toward song and
laughter. Their courage and gallantry adorned the barren path of life
with the varied hues of their mercurial spirits. They never failed to
adjust to the circumstances at hand, and the speculative character of
enterprise could not wear them down. The Englishman had the necessary
foresight and tenacity to effect such an organization and procedure as
best calculated to bring adequate financial returns.
[Illustration: Beaver at Work.]
However, the supreme mountain scouts were of American vintage. The best
in the west were cool, longheaded, deadly-shooting backwoodsmen from
Kentucky and Virginia. They had what it took to deal with Indian
treachery, wild beasts, and constant danger in a thousand forms. The fur
business demanded men of great force and energy. Hence, the successful
trappers were hard-working, hard-fighting men inured to hardship and
exposure. Their vanity was in fast riding, straight shooting, prowess in
trapping and trailing, and enduring privation without wincing. However,
most of them were capable of complete relaxation in the fashion of
drinking and gambling. In fact, they were “white Injuns” and proud of
the same class of achievements. The tides of trapper fortune were
capricious. One year they rolled with promise; the next were empty as a
beach. The competition was always keen, and they were ever on the move.
“Old Roustabout,” “Perpetual Motion,” “Never Quit,” and “Knock ’Em Stiff
Hawkeye” were current nicknames in the Order. Some of them became
veritable walking maps possessed of uncanny perception of distance,
condition, and landmarks. All this knowledge was susceptible to sudden
erasure by one deft blow of a tomahawk. Surely every trapper fully
understood the meaning of the old Hudson Bay Company motto, “A skin for
a skin.”
The passing of time, together with kindly, indiscriminate sentimentality
toward the lore of the Old West, has enveloped all of her
buckskin-fringed denizens in an enchanting blanket of romance. Legend
endows them with a uniform mantle of heroism and self-sacrifice. No
great effort ought to be made to drag frontiersmen from these generous
folds of fiction, because such a course might evoke the other extreme of
shouting “Ichabod.” However, a correct comprehension of reality should
be the intelligent observer’s constant aim.
Tramping this western wilderness was hardy-man’s-pie, and one may search
in vain for “cream puffs” in the trapper fraternity. Among this advance
guard of the human flood were turbulent spirits. Surely persons of the
wild and reckless type have their place in pioneering the way for the
more conforming populace. Although they were generally of a kindred
spirit, no company personnel ever conformed to a particular type.
Indeed, a more heterogeneous assemblage could not be imagined. Some were
cross-grained and lazy; some, young or superannuated; others, half-breed
and faithless—a real challenge to the leadership of their employer. In
time the ordinary men were weeded out, but those remaining were still as
diverse as humans could be.
However, it was not as conscious agents of civilization that these
rowdies entered the west. They reacted to the eternal impulse of
personal curiosity and profit. For such ends they willingly perambulated
the dreariest wastes, always at home, living from meal to meal, from day
to day. Chance and danger were their daily lot and they gained the rare
capacity to accept whatever came with good graces. Pleasant experiences
produced rollicking good humor; hardships and trying scenes were soon
forgotten. They became absolutely fearless, for destruction stalked them
on every side in the form of famine, blizzard, wild beasts, and wilder
savages. Death was a constant threat, but its grimaces only tended to
develop men of nerve and hardihood who delighted in reckless feats. The
trapper’s universal insensibility to danger proves that the human mind,
habituated to constant risk, becomes callous like the body subjected to
exposure. There was the hazard of perishing from hunger and thirst, of
being cut off by war parties of the Sioux who scoured the plains, of
having their horses stolen by Absarokas who infested the skirts of the
mountains, or of being butchered by the Blackfeet who lurked among the
defiles.
Trapping did not require literacy, but skill was indispensable to
success. The trapper had his A-B-C’s to master. Any neglect of these
lessons was at his peril. They were fur, meat, and danger. Signs of
beaver, buffalo, and Indians must be read with the utmost accuracy. How
did he perfect his craft?
Beginning with the objects about him, the trapper observed everything
minutely. He learned to read the meaning of a turned leaf, a broken
twig, and the behavior of domestic and wild animals. He achieved an
intimate association with nature, and she talked to him. Not only did he
form indelible impressions of topography by discerning senses, but he
talked about them around the campfire. Each trapper learned from the
others. One referred to this process as the Rocky Mountain college
course.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Part of a Trapper Brigade.]
By reason of such apprenticeship frontiersmen were able to differentiate
buffalo and grizzlies at astonishing distances. They read the clouds,
understood bird flights, and sensed ambuscades. Practiced eyes, ears,
and noses enabled them to classify Indians as to tribe, place, and even
intent. They could converse with the representatives of many different
nations and tribes. A smattering of French, Spanish, and several Indian
languages—supplemented by signs—made conversation possible under all
circumstances.
The trapper was not always at liberty. There were organization
responsibilities. The fur brigade was under strict discipline. A junior
partner in the company was usually in charge, and he was the law. There
was a semi-military set of regulations regarding division of work; guard
duty was rigorously enforced; efficient service and prompt obedience
were required of every trapper.
Sometimes terrific exertion was involved in reaching a given trapping
ground at the most opportune time. Upon one occasion Alexander Ross
fairly forced his caravan to cleave a road through a snowbound pass.
Said he:
Making this road through the snow (seven feet deep) took the united
labour of fifty men and 240 horses, with all the other available means
within our power, for twenty-one days. It must be allowed to have been
an arduous undertaking, with such a medley of people and so difficult
to manage; and more so, when it takes into consideration that our
supper at night depended on the good or bad luck of our hunters during
the day. To their exertions and perseverance, indeed, no small merit
was due.[77]
Such a time of travail was enough to elicit an occasional prayer from
these sons of the wild. Men of few words, they could say what was needed
in simple eloquence:
Oh, God, may it please Thee, in Thy divine providence, to still guide
and protect us through this wilderness of doubt and fear, as Thou hast
done heretofore, and be with us in the hour of danger and difficulty
as all praise is due to Thee and not to man. Oh, do not forsake us,
Lord, but be with us and direct us through.[78]
One of the greatest among trappers was brigade leader Jedediah Smith,
sometimes called “The Knight in Buckskin.” Carrying a Bible and a rifle,
he was equally proficient with each and had complete reliance upon both.
Mr. Ross has left a fine description of trapping routine:
A safe and secure spot, near wood and water, is first selected for the
camp. Here the chief of the party resides with the property. It is
often exposed to danger, or sudden attack, in the absence of the
trappers, and requires a vigilant eye to guard against the lurking
savages. The camp is called headquarters. From hence all the trappers,
some on foot, some on horseback, according to the distance they have
to go, start every morning, in small parties, in all directions,
ranging the distance of some twenty miles around. Six traps is the
allowance for each trapper; but to guard against wear and tear, the
complement is more frequently ten. These he sets every night, and
visits again in the morning; sometimes oftener, according to distance,
or other circumstances. The beaver taken in the traps are always
conveyed to the camp, skinned, stretched, dried, folded up with the
hair in the inside, laid by, and the flesh used for food. No sooner,
therefore, has a hunter visited his traps, set them again and looked
out for some other place, than he returns to the camp to feast and
enjoy the pleasures of an idle day....[79]
In this account there is an element of suppressed excitement and danger.
Taking game is invariably a thrilling experience. Besides that, the
covetous savages were frequently so menacing as to require almost
constant vigil along the trap line. Trapper camps remained stationary
only so long as two-thirds of the men were getting satisfactory results.
Setting beaver traps involved keen judgment, a deft touch, and precise
arrangement. Indeed, it was a considerable art. Joe Meek left an
accurate picture of his technique:
He has an ordinary steel trap weighing five pounds, attached to a
chain five feet long, with a swivel and ring at the end, which plays
round what is called the float, a dry stick of wood about six feet
long. The trapper wades out into the stream, which is shallow, and
cuts with his knife a bed for his trap, five or six inches under
water. He then takes the float out the whole length of the chain in
the direction of the center of the stream, and drives it in, so fast
that the beaver cannot draw it out; at the same time tying the other
end by a thong to the bank. A small stick or twig, dipped in musk or
castor (found in certain glands of the beaver) served for bait, and is
placed so as to hang directly above the trap, which is now set. The
trapper then throws water plentifully over the adjacent bank to
conceal any footprints or scent by which the beaver would be alarmed,
and, going to some distance, wades out of the stream. In setting a
trap, certain things are to be observed with care; first, that the
trap is firmly fixed, and at proper distance from the bank—for if the
beaver can get on shore with the trap, he will cut off his foot to
escape; second, that the float is of dry wood, for should it not be,
the animal will cut it off at a stroke, and swimming with the trap to
the middle of the dam, be drowned by its weight. In the latter case,
when the hunter visits his trap in the morning, he is under the
necessity of plunging into the water and swimming out, to dive for his
game. Should the morning be frosty and chilly, as it very frequently
is in the mountains, diving for traps is not a pleasant exercise. In
placing the bait, care must be taken to fix it just where the beaver,
in reaching it, will spring the trap. If the bait stick be placed
high, the hind foot of the beaver will be caught, if low, the
forefoot.[80]
Each trapper had two horses, one to ride and one to carry his trapping
equipment and furs. Sometimes good fortune yielded a fur harvest that
exceeded the trapper’s carrying capacity. In that case he employed a
device called a cache. A dry spot of earth on an incline was selected,
well-camouflaged from Indian view. A hole large enough for a man to
crawl into was then dug. As depth was attained it was widened to the
desired proportions. Furs well wrapped would keep indefinitely in a
properly constructed cache.
Essentials in the trapper’s equipment were a bowie knife, ammunition, a
hatchet, a revolver, and a rifle. The trapper’s powder horn and bullet
pouch, with flint and steel and other “fixins,” were thrown over his
left shoulder. These articles were his constant companions, ever ready
for action.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Gun and Powder horn.]
Wearing apparel was pretty much standardized—a five-piece suit of
buckskin, including smoked skin moccasins which would not shrink from
the frequent wettings incident to the trapping season. The pants, shirt,
long coat, and hat were made of the same material. Fringes at the seams
gave a dash of ornamentation and hastened drying. Clothing was mostly
“homemade” during the wintertime.
These accouterments were not only durable, but they were comfortable as
well, and they were pleasant to the eye. That the latter item was a
desideratum there can be no doubt. Indian maidens were fair to behold,
and after all the trapper was human.
This phase of the trapper’s life was cogently summarized by one
observer:
From all that I hear I conclude that in the palmy days of the fur
trade, the bands of white trappers in the West were little more than
bands of white Indians, having their Indian wives, and all the
paraphernalia of Indian life, moving from place to place, as the
beaver became scarce, and subsisting like the Indians upon the
products of the country.[81]
Squaw men were both numerous and respected. Lisa, Bridger, Provot,
Ogden, Meek, Carson, Rose, McKenzie, and Beckwourth were wise and
judicious men. They well knew the utility of the willing, efficient, and
respectful Indian women for their own sakes. Then, too, there were
political considerations which account for the fact that in some cases
several squaws were taken at once, or in rapid succession. Marriage has
always been employed as a means of ingratiation by the outsider. It may
be said to their credit, with a few exceptions, genuine mountain men
were faithful to their Indian wives.[82]
The Earl of Dunraven has left an excellent description of a squaw man’s
camp which he visited in Yellowstone Park during the summer of 1874:
These men looked very happy and comfortable. Unquestionably the proper
way for a man to travel with ease and luxury in these deserts is for
him to take unto himself a helpmate chosen from the native population.
No amount of art, industry, and study can rival the instinct displayed
by savages in making themselves comfortable, and in utilizing for
their own benefit all the accidents of Nature. Nobody can choose a
camp as they can: nobody knows how to make a fire so quickly or so
well: nobody can so wisely pick a shady, cool place in summer heat, or
choose one sheltered from wind and storms in winter. With an Indian
wife to look after his bodily comforts, a man may devote himself to
hunting, fishing, or trapping without a thought or care. He may make
his mind quite easy about all household matters. His camp will be well
arranged, the tent-pegs driven securely home, the stock watered,
picketed, and properly cared for, a good supper cooked, his bed spread
out, and everything made comfortable; his clothes and hunting-gear
looked after, the buttons sewn on his shirt—if he has got any shirt or
any buttons; and all the little trivial incidents of life which, if
neglected, wear out one’s existence, he will find carefully attended
to by a willing and affectionate slave.
They had a lot to tell us also about their travels and adventures,
about the wood and water supply, and the abundance or deficiency of
game. So we sat down on bales of beaver-skins and retailed all the
civilized intelligence we could think of; and the women came and
brought us ember for our pipes, spread out robes for us and made us at
home; and the little fat, chubby children, wild and shy as young
wolves, peered at us from behind the tent out of their round, black,
beady eyes.[83]
The premier social event among mountain men was the annual rendezvous.
This institution was inaugurated on Green River in July, 1824, by
General William H. Ashley, owner of the interests that evolved into the
Rocky Mountain Fur Company. The Ashley men traveled to the fur region in
concert. Upon arrival, they were divided into “brigades” and dispersed
into various districts with instructions to reassemble at an appointed
time and place. In this manner the rendezvous became a sort of roving
trading place; it served in lieu of a post. These shifting locations
were occasioned by the need of forage for large numbers of horses. For
sixteen years this combination of market, fiesta, and carousal held sway
in such romantic spots as Green River, Ogden’s Hole, Pierre’s Hole—now
Teton Basin in Idaho—and the Horse Creek-Green River country south of
Jackson’s Hole in Wyoming. In her book, _The River of the West_, Frances
Fuller Victor tells of a rendezvous held by Jim Bridger and his
trappers. The place was Hayden Valley; the season, 1838.[84]
Thither the company men, free trappers, and Indians foregathered. The
business of exchange and supply was quickly transacted with beaver skins
serving as money. Then came the celebration, and what a gala event it
was. Trappers sought to indemnify themselves for the sufferings and
privations of a year in the wilderness. Squaw men parted with their
“hairy bank notes” in order to bedeck their spouses in bright cloth and
gewgaws. Here were men with reputations to sustain, proud men with a
streak of wild vanity: “Old Knock Him Stiff,” “Old Straightener,”
“Dead-Eye Dick,” “Broken Hand,” Kit, Joe, and Jim. Most mountain men
were openhanded, and they squandered a year’s earnings in a few days of
prodigal indulgence. Coffee and chocolate were prepared; the kegs were
emptied; all pipes were kept aglow; free and generous spirits moved by
day and night.[85] Truly this burnt and seamy-faced band was an
all-American aggregation.
The veterans boasted “most enormous adventures” in mountain experience.
Each represented himself as more than a match for any possible array of
Indians or grizzlies. Narrations waxed romantic in the desire to
astonish the new recruits. Extravagant and absurd as their yarns were,
there was always a current of rude, good humor that allowed each
listener to believe as little as he liked. There were rollicking, fiery,
boisterous, swaggering southerners; quiet, steel-eyed northerners;
mercurial French; loquacious Irish; calculating Scots; greedy middlemen;
shrewd dealers; squaw men; Indian haters; Indians of many nations; pals;
rivals; and enemies. Everyone was invited; no one was missing. It was a
self-propelling circus, one show a year, the antecedent of roundup,
rodeo, fair, and tournament.
Contests of skill were carried to a point of jeopardizing life. There
were William Tell episodes and no mistakes, trials of speed and strength
for both horse and man. There was plenty of flirting, feasting,
carousing, and outright debauchery. All were on friendly terms today,
but each was unconsciously aware that tomorrow their relationships would
change, and woe unto him who was caught unaware!
The rendezvous was perhaps the most colorful, spontaneous, lusty, and
romantic institution ever known among civilized men. It was conceived,
nurtured, and abandoned within a score of years (1824-1840). A fleeting
climax to a picturesque band—they came from everywhere, wrote a saga
that reads like an epoch from a long-forgotten age, then vanished from
the scene.
Actually they did not make a definite exit; they just faded away. Some,
like Colter, turned into prosaic farmers; others became guides, only to
lag superfluously upon the stage; some turned to trade; some, to
government appointments as Indian agents. A few lingered on as trappers,
sighing for the life that was gone forever. Trappers of the Great
West—they had given their all and there were no regrets. Their levity
and valor, their hardships and pleasure, what a medley it made. One of
the French Canadians has left this testimonial:
I have now been forty-two years in this country. For twenty-four I was
light canoe-man; I required but little sleep, but sometimes got less
than I required. No portage was too long for me; all portages were
alike. My end of the canoe never touched the ground till I saw the end
of it. Fifty songs a day were nothing to me. I could carry, paddle,
walk, and sing with any man I ever saw. During that period, I saved
the lives of ten Bourgeois, and was always the favourite, because when
others stopped to tarry at a bad step, and lost time, I pushed on—over
rapids, over cascades, over chutes; all were the same to me. No water,
no weather, ever stopped the paddle or the song. I have had twelve
wives in the country; and was once possessed of fifty horses, and six
running dogs, trimmed in the first style. I was then like a Bourgeois,
rich and happy; no Bourgeois had better-dressed wives than I; no
Indian chief finer horses; no white man better harnessed or swifter
dogs. I beat all Indians at the race, and no white man ever passed me
in the chase. I wanted for nothing; and I spent all my earnings in the
enjoyment of pleasure. Five hundred pounds, twice told, have passed
through my hands; although now I have not a spare shirt to my back,
nor a penny to buy one. Yet, were I young again, I should glory in
commencing the same career again.[86]
The significance of the fur trade is graphically depicted by the
National Park Service with charts, diagrams, illustrations, models, and
dioramas in the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, Scotts Bluff,
Guernsey Lake, Fort Laramie, Grand Teton and Yellowstone National parks.
Chapter V
WERE INDIANS AFRAID OF YELLOWSTONE?
Beginning with the origin of Yellowstone as a National Park the idea
became current that Indians were afraid of the area. The opinion is
still widely held that they considered it a cursed domain, unfit for
habitation. While it is true that superstition and taboo loomed large in
primitive experience, there is no reason to suppose that Indians gave
Wonderland a wide berth.[87] Rather, there is an abundance of material
evidence that controverts this view. Furthermore, the proposition is at
once illogical and untrue historically.
How, then, did this fiction originate? Probably the major reason is
found in the fact that, with the exception of a small band of
recluse-like Tukuarikas, or Sheepeaters, Indians did not live
permanently in Yellowstone. This fact alone suggests that the region was
not regarded as an appropriate abode. Only a pygmy tribe of about four
hundred timid souls deemed it a suitable homeland.
These people were the weakest of all mountain clans. They did not
possess horses. Their tools were of the crudest type; they lived in
caves and nearly inaccessible niches in cliffs along the Gardner River,
especially in wintertime. These more permanent camps were carefully
chosen in the interest of security against other Indians. Superintendent
Norris discovered one of them by accident:
In trailing a wounded bighorn I descended a rocky dangerous pathway.
In rapt astonishment I found I had thus unbidden entered an ancient
but recently deserted, secluded, unknown haunt of the Sheepeater
aborigines of the Park.[88]
This campground was a half mile in length and four hundred feet at its
widest point, with a similar depth, “and hemmed in and hidden by rugged
timber-fringed basaltic cliffs....”
In summer, the Sheepeater Indians ventured further into the interior,
following the game upon the higher plateaus. There they erected:
skin-covered lodges, or circular upright brush-heaps called wickiups,
decaying evidences of which are abundant near Mammoth Hot Springs, the
various firehole basins, the shores of Yellowstone Lake, the newly
explored Hoodoo regions, and in nearly all of the sheltered glens and
valleys of the Park.[89]
In 1874, the Earl of Dunraven discovered such a camp just west of Mary
Mountain on the head of Nez Percé Creek.
Superintendent Norris and his associates focused their eyes particularly
upon evidences of Indian occupancy. In a dozen places they observed rude
but extensive pole and brush fences used for wild animal driveways.[90]
An especially strategic camp was discovered near the summit of a grassy
pass between Hoodoo and Miller creeks. From this skyline perch, marked
by forty decaying lodges, an entire tribe could command a view of all
possible approaches for many miles. Fragments of white men’s chinaware,
blankets, bed clothing, and male and female wearing apparel bore mute
but mournful witness of border raids and massacres. This was an Absaroka
summer retreat.
However, there are few such evidences discernible today because snows
are heavy and wind fallen trees profuse, while the character of Indian
structures was flimsy. In fact, these Indians, on the whole, left fewer
enduring signs of their dwelling places than beaver. Several log
wickiups still stand in a pleasant fir grove in the triangle formed by
Lava Creek and Gardner River above their point of union. These wickiups
are readily accessible from the Tower Falls highway one half mile east
of the Gardner River bridge.
What happened to the timid Tukuarikas? They simply vanished from the
scene as the white men invaded their refuge. They left without a contest
for ownership or treaty of cession. That is the way most Americans would
have had all Indian tribes behave!
All mountain Indian tribes visited Yellowstone. We-Saw, Shoshoni guide
for Captain W. A. Jones in 1873, said his people and also the Bannocks
and Crows occasionally visited the Yellowstone River and Lake.
For one thing, Obsidian Cliff had the effect of a magnet upon them. It
was their arsenal, a lance and arrowhead quarry. Arrowheads and spears
originating here have been found in an area extending many miles in
every direction. The obsidian chips, from which implements were
assiduously shaped by the Indians, still litter the side hills and
ravines in chosen areas all over the Park. Many fine specimens of
arrowheads, knives, scrapers, and spears have been found at various
places. The most notable finds have been around the base of Mt. Holmes,
along Indian Creek, at Fishing Bridge, near West Thumb, in the Norris
and Lower Geyser basins, and about the Lamar Valley. Actually, these
artifacts have generally turned up wherever excavation for modern camps
has been made.
[Illustration: _Remnants of Sheepeaters’ Wickiup_]
In P. W. Norris’ _Fifth Annual Report, 1881_, there is a comprehensive
analysis of the problem of Indian occupancy. Diagrams of four steatite
vessels found in widely separated places are represented. Drawings of
arrowheads and sinkers also occur, and figures 10 to 24, inclusive,
depict the natural sizes of scrapers, knives, lance, spearheads, and
perforators, mostly chipped from Park obsidian.[91] These artifacts were
found in various places, such as caverns, driveways, at the foot of
cliffs, and along creeks. Said Norris: “Over two hundred such specimens
were collected this season.”[92]
In his report of 1878, Mr. Norris states: “Chips, flakes, arrowheads and
other Indian tools and weapons have been found by all recent tourists in
burial cairns and also scattered broadcast in all these mountain
valleys.”[93]
Is it any wonder Indian artifacts are scarce in Yellowstone today?
Still, they are frequently found when excavations are made. Winter
snows, animal trampings, land slides, and floods have covered them. A
few isolated items of discovery should be noted: arrowheads have
recently been found on Stevenson Island, in lake gravel pits, about
Buffalo Ranch, in the sewer line, near South Entrance, on the Game
Ranch, around Norris, Lower, and Midway geyser basins, and at Fishing
Bridge.[94]
Another evidence of Indian visitation was evinced by a network of
trails. One of these followed the Yellowstone Valley across the Park
from north to south. It divided at Yellowstone Lake, the principal
branch adhering to the east shore and leading to Two Ocean Pass where it
intersected the great Snake and Wind River trail. Since Indian trails
multisected the Yellowstone area it is obvious that the region was a
sort of no-man’s land. Undesirable as a homeland, it was used as a
summer retreat by many Rocky Mountain tribes. From this circumstance it
may be assumed that an autumn seldom passed without a clash between the
Bannocks and the Crows or the Shoshonis. Surely, the shrill notes of
Blackfeet warwhoops have echoed in these vales. Campsites were well
chosen both from the viewpoint of preserving secrecy and desirability as
watchtower sites.
The most important trail, however, was that known as the Great Bannock
Trail. The Bannocks of southeastern Idaho made an annual trek to the
Bighorn Basin for buffalo. Their trail followed Henrys Fork of Snake
River to Henrys Lake, an ancient Bannock rendezvous. From this notable
camp the trail went up Howard Creek and crossed the Continental Divide
at Targhee Pass. Upon reaching the Upper Madison Valley, the route
passed Horse Butte and angled north of West Yellowstone townsite. A camp
at Great Springs (now Cory Springs) was situated near the Park boundary.
In Yellowstone National Park, the Bannock Trail winds its devious way
across the northern part. There are a half-dozen deviations from the
main artery. Wayne Replogle suggests that weather conditions determined
these alternations. High ground would be chosen enroute to the plains,
but the return trip could be made along the streams. Other
considerations might include security, grazing, and game. Entering the
Park upon Duck Creek the Trail swung northward across Campanula Creek,
paralleled Gneiss Creek to the point of crossing, then quartered
southward, crossing Maple Creek and Duck Creek, on toward the head of
Cougar Creek and its ample pasture lands.
From this area the Trail goes almost due north to White Peaks, which are
skirted on the West. The Gallatin Range was crossed via a saddle north
of White Peaks. The Trail then dropped upon the headwaters of Indian
Creek and followed down to Gardner River. The route then looped to the
left, across Swan Lake flats, on through Snow Pass, down the decline to
Mammoth Hot Springs. From Mammoth the Indian thoroughfare struck right,
recrossed Gardner River, and followed Lava Creek toward Tower Fall.
The Yellowstone River ford was located just above Tower Fall, near the
mouth of Tower Creek. Vestiges of the trail may still be discerned along
both banks of Yellowstone River. Other evidences, such as deep
grass-sodded furrows, may be seen in the vicinity of junction of the
Lamar River and Soda Butte Creek. One branch paralleled Soda Butte Creek
to the divide and then descended Clarks Fork to the bison range. The
alternate route continued along the Lamar to a secondary divide between
Cache and Calfee creeks. This hog’s back was then followed to the
summit, and the descent was down Timber Creek to its confluence with
Clarks Fork. The deep ruts worn by travois in these pilgrimages are
still obvious in many places, although unused for three quarters of a
century.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Horse and Travois Transportation.]
Can anyone doubt that the Bannocks made frequent and extensive
excursions beyond this thoroughfare? Surely their young men ranged far
and wide, prying into every nook and cranny of Wonderland. They
undoubtedly fished in the great lake and river, hunted elk and bighorn,
bathed in warm springs, and reveled in the beauties of the landscape.
Any other view of the evidence would impute undue naïveté to human
nature. After all, Indians were children of nature; the earth was their
mother. In Yellowstone Mother Earth was especially intriguing. They
might not understand her; they might entertain great respect for her
strange manifestations, but cringing trepidation? Hardly! But weren’t
they afraid of the geysers? In 1935, White Hawk and Many Wounds visited
the Park. They were members of Chief Joseph’s band when it crossed the
Park in 1877. When asked if the Nez Percé Indians were afraid of the
geysers and hot springs they said no and implied that they used them in
cooking.[95] Still the critic objects, saying the geyser and spring
formations were all intact when the first white men came. Primitive
people were seldom guilty of wanton spoliation. Hence, missing
incrustations were not essential evidence of Indian visitation. They
left nature’s beauty as they found it, a proper example for all who
might follow after.
Did Indians ever hear the legendary overhead sounds in the vicinity of
Shoshone and Yellowstone lakes—those strange half-minute tunes like the
humming of bees or echo of bells?[96] Perhaps they did. Any phenomenon
audible to white men with the naked ear would be discernible to them
because they were sensitive to nature and her communion was always
welcomed. However, since Indians were without records and formal
procedures for obtaining and preserving scientific knowledge they were
tremendously limited in understanding. They operated upon a single
dimension of experience. For instance, they could never realize that the
fish they took from Lake Yellowstone was a Pacific Ocean species which
could only have reached these inland lakes via the Snake River system,
signifying that, in ages past, the great lake must have possessed an
outlet in that direction. All such problems awaited the scientists, but
red men still knew much in their own right.
Surely then, Indians were summertime visitors in Yellowstone. They
literally swarmed around the lakes. The most unimpeachable testimony on
this point comes from trapper accounts of actual encounters. This phase
of the case is discussed in the following chapter. Their known presence
in the wooded area was the greatest deterrent to the white man’s
interest. Few men voluntarily risk their lives for a view of nature’s
wonders. It is a historical fact that the Washburn-Langford-Doane party
saw Crow Indians along the north environs of the Park and actually
followed a fresh line of tracks into the Yellowstone area. Thus the
scenic exploitation of Wonderland was not feasible until the Indians
were rounded up and confined to the reservations. This program was
accomplished in the states surrounding Yellowstone between 1860 and
1877.
This process of racial adjustment was not accomplished without minor
repercussions upon Yellowstone. The exciting Nez Percé flight of 1877 is
considered separately in Chapter XI. However, the very next year the
Bannocks conducted an impressive horse-stealing foray against the
property of laborers and tourists. These episodes resulted in
unfavorable publicity from the standpoint of tourist interest in
visiting Wonderland. In consequence two important steps were taken by
the officials. In 1880 Superintendent Norris made a tour of all the
Rocky Mountain Indian reservations. His mission was to secure solemn
promises from the tribes to abide by the terms of their Washington
treaties and in particular to stay away from the Park.[97]
These agreements were widely advertised, and in order to further
neutralize any fear of Indian trouble a policy of minimizing past
incidents was evolved. The recent invasions were represented as
unprecedented, actually anomalous. Indians had never lived in
Yellowstone, were infrequent visitors because they were afraid of the
thermal activity! It was not a conspiracy against truth, just an
adaptation of business psychology to a promising national resort.
Chapter VI
SECONDARY VISITATIONS BEFORE 1869
Parties in Search of Fur
The streams of the Rocky Mountains were thoroughly exploited by the
trappers in the twenties and thirties. Notwithstanding the paucity of
evidence concerning Yellowstone visitations, it is unreasonable to
believe her great rivers were neglected. These phantomlike trapper men
went everywhere, saw everything, tarried only long enough to strip furry
coverings from the beaver, and vanished. On rare occasion a bit of
artifact shows up: an initialed rock or tree, a broken trap or
flintlock, a group of steel-cleaved trees, a trapper cabin, a rifle pit
or cache.[98] These evidences bear mute testimony that hunters passed
through Yellowstone. In 1880, Colonel P. W. Norris discovered an
initialed tree one half mile above the Upper Falls. The significant
legend, _J.O.R. August 19, 1819_, had every indication of authenticity.
In 1822, trappers engaged by Andrew Henry and General William H. Ashley
entered the Rocky Mountains. Within that decade some of the men had
unquestionably visited the Park area. Evidence of one such visit exists
in a letter published in the _Philadelphia Gazette_, September 27, 1827,
and reprinted in the _Niles Weekly Register_ (Baltimore) the following
week, October 6, 1827. Daniel T. Potts wrote this particular letter at
Sweet Lake in the Rocky Mountains on July 8, 1827, and sent it to his
brother Robert T. Potts of Philadelphia. This letter, which constitutes
the first printed account of Yellowstone phenomena, is now on file in
the Yellowstone Park Library at Mammoth. The section of the letter
definitely descriptive of the Park area follows:
... the Yellow-stone has a large fresh water lake near its head on the
verry [sic] top of the Mountain which is about one hundrid [sic] by
fourty [sic] in diameter and as clear as crystal on the south borders
of this lake is a number of hot and boiling springs some water and
others of most beautiful fine clay and resembles that of a mush pot
and throws its particles to the immense height of from twenty to
thirty feet in height. The clay is white and pink and water appear
fathomless as it appears to be entirely hollow underneath. There is
also a number of places where the pure sulphor [sic] is sent forth in
abundance one of our men visited one of these whilst taking his
recreation at an instan [sic] the earth began a tremendious [sic]
trembling and he with dificulty [sic] made his escape when an
explosion took place resembling that of thunder. During our stay in
that quarter I heard it every day....[99]
Again, it is a matter of written record that Jedediah Smith and his
associates “worked the country lying between the sources of the Missouri
and Yellowstone rivers, finally going into winter quarters on the Wind
River” in 1829. He was probably the man to whom Superintendent Norris
referred:
I have always given much credence to a well-endorsed campfire legend
of a mountaineer named Smith, having, prior to the days of Bonneville,
written a narrative of his explorations of the Firehole regions, and
being killed before its publication.[100]
It was in 1829 when Joseph Meek became separated from his associates of
the Rocky Mountain Fur Company and wandered for five days in a southerly
direction in the area that divides the drainage between the Madison and
Gallatin rivers. The factors of time and place are entirely consistent
with the report he gave:
Being desirous to learn something about the progress he had made, he
ascended a low mountain in the neighborhood of his camp, and behold!
the whole country beyond was smoking with vapor from boiling springs,
and burning gases issuing from small craters, each of which was
emitting a sharp whistling sound.[101]
Meek thought himself reminded of the city of Pittsburgh as he had once
seen it on a winter morning. Meek also said that blue flames and molten
brimstone issued from certain craters. Of course the brimstone was a
slight exaggeration, but he undoubtedly believed it to be true.
There are still other references strongly indicative of the movements of
those silent sons of the wilderness in Yellowstone. However, the journal
of Warren A. Ferris, an employee of the American Fur Company, positively
proves that he observed some of its mysteries. He first heard stories of
astonishing marvels from a party of trappers at the rendezvous in 1833.
These trappers confirmed other reports that were current, affirming that
geysers really were as extensive and remarkable as generally
represented. Backed by the united testimony of more than twenty men on
the subject, Ferris decided to go there himself for the specific purpose
of enjoying such an experience as would be afforded by water volcanoes.
In company with two Pend d’Oreille Indians he journeyed from Camas Creek
through the “piny woods” to the Madison River, which he followed to the
Upper Geyser Basin, where he camped. During the night of May 19, the
thud and resounding of violent thermal action assailed him. Allow him to
relate the story:
When I arose in the morning, clouds of vapor seemed like a dense fog
to overhang the springs from which frequent reports or explosions of
different loudness, constantly assailed our ears. I immediately
proceeded to inspect them, and might have exclaimed with the Queen of
Sheba, when their full reality of dimensions and novelty burst upon my
view, “The half was not told me.”
From the surface of a rocky plain or table, burst forth columns of
water, of various dimensions, projected high in the air, accompanied
by loud explosions, and sulphurous vapors, which were highly
disagreeable to the smell. The rock from which these springs burst
forth was calcarious [sic], and probably extends some distance from
them beneath the soil. The largest of these wonderful fountains
projects a column of boiling water several feet in diameter to the
height of more than one hundred and fifty feet—in my opinion; but in
declaring that it could not be less than four times that distance in
height—accompanied with a tremendous noise. These explosions and
discharges occur at intervals of about two hours. After having
witnessed three of them, I ventured near enough to put my hand into
the water of its basin, but withdrew it instantly, for the heat of the
water in this immense cauldron was altogether too great for comfort,
and the agitation of the water, the disagreeable effluvium continually
exuding, and the hollow unearthly rumbling under the rock on which I
stood, so ill accorded with my notions of personal safety, that I
retreated back precipitately to a respectful distance. The Indians who
were with me were quite appalled, and could not by any means be
induced to approach them. They seemed astonished at my presumption in
advancing up to the large one, and when I safely returned,
congratulated me on my “narrow escape.”—They believed them to be
supernatural, and supposed them to be the production of the Evil
Spirit. One of them remarked that hell, of which he had heard from the
whites, must be in that vicinity. The diameter of the basin into which
the water of the largest jet principally falls, and from the centre of
which, through a hole in the rock of about nine or ten feet in
diameter, the water spouts up as above related, may be about thirty
feet.—There are many other smaller fountains, that did not throw their
waters up so high, but occurred at shorter intervals. In some
instances, the volumes were projected obliquely upwards and fell into
the neighboring fountains or on the rock or prairie. But their ascent
was generally perpendicular, falling in and about their own basins or
apertures. These wonderful productions of nature are situated near the
centre of a small valley, surrounded by pine covered hills, through
which a small fork of the Madison flows. Highly gratified with my
visit to these formidable and magnificent fountains, jets, or springs,
whichever the reader may please to call them, I set out after dinner
to rejoin my companions. Again we crossed the Piny Woods and encamped
on the plains of Henry’s Fork.[102]
Ferris not only wrote the foregoing account in his journal, but his
sense of its importance impelled him to expand it for publication. He
submitted his “Life in the Rocky Mountains” to several papers.
Subsequently the narrative appeared in the _Literary Messenger_ of
Buffalo, New York, in issues running during the early forties. The
scholarly observations of Mr. Ferris were reprinted in _The Wasp_, a
Mormon organ of Nauvoo, Illinois, on August 13, 1842. It was the best
article prepared before 1870. Henceforth, the lack of knowledge about
Yellowstone must be charged to common indifference and skepticism. The
facts had all been well attested but slenderly disseminated.
Foremost among all trapper visitations in point of extent and accuracy
were those of Osborne Russell. Between 1835 and 1839 he accompanied
three specific Yellowstone expeditions. The first party, which numbered
twenty-four, was organized at Fort Hall in June, 1835. Instructions
directed them to proceed to Yellowstone Lake and return, hunting and
trapping the intervening territory. Their route of travel was northeast
to Jackson Hole, thence into the Absarokas. No one in the group had ever
entered Yellowstone until July 28, when they descended the mountains
into what they called “Secluded Valley.”
The point of ingress was probably the upper Lamar drainage. There they
encountered a small band of friendly Snake Indians, rich in pelts which
they sold for a “song.” Mr. Russell revealed an unerring instinct of
appreciation for the area in his first and subsequent visits. Said he:
We stopped at this place and for my own part I almost wished I could
spend the remainder of my days in a place like this, where happiness
and contentment seemed to reign in wild, romantic splendor, surrounded
by majestic battlements which seemed to support the heavens and shut
out all hostile intruders.[103]
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Trapper observing Riverside Geyser.]
While his impression of security was to prove incorrect the reaction to
grandeur was wholly sustained.
One trapper was lost, and after a futile search they reluctantly crossed
the Yellowstone River. Their next camp was in Gardner Hole, named for
trapper Johnson Gardner, formerly an Ashley employee, who had worked the
area several years before. Russell’s party then crossed the Gallatins
and joined Jim Bridger’s company in making a stand against the marauding
Blackfeet.
The next season found Russell attached to Bridger’s party and again on
his way to Wonderland. They entered from the southeast along Yellowstone
River. By mid-August they reached the lake. Two weeks were spent in
trapping the lake and Gardner Hole streams. Russell again expressed his
unqualified partiality for this region.
Mr. Russell’s final and most significant visit occurred during July and
August of 1839. Upon this occasion there were only four in the party.
They entered the Park by way of Snake River, passed the lakes now called
Lewis and Shoshone, and visited the geyser basins. The white formations
reminded the trappers of some ancient cities’ ruins. Mr. Russell’s
description of Grand Prismatic Spring is satisfactory as of today. From
the Firehole Basin they circled the Park clockwise and came to rest on
Pelican Creek, near Yellowstone Lake’s outlet. The date was August 28,
1839; the time of day, 4:00 P.M. Russell had taken a swim in the lake;
White was sleeping; the Canadian and Elbridge were hunting elk. In these
circumstances a large band of Blackfeet made a surprise attack. Russell
and White were both wounded but managed to escape. The next day they
were joined by the Canadian. Together, and on foot, the three trappers
wound a tortuous course to the Thumb of Lake, and thence south to
Jackson Lake. After many harrowing experiences and much discomfort they
reached Fort Hall on September 6. A week later Elbridge also reached the
fort, and in a short time they were all ready for new adventure.
Another party of forty men went through almost the identical experience
in 1839. They entered the area via the Snake River, crossed the Divide,
and trapped the upper Yellowstone to the lake. Near its outlet they
fought Piegan Indians and lost five men, with the same number
wounded.[104] Yellowstone was not a choice trapping ground and the risks
involved by reason of remoteness and Indian menace offset the margin of
profit.
Upon interrogation relative to Yellowstone, Captain Bonneville said,
“You ask me if I know of the thermal springs and geysers. Not
personally, but my men knew about them, and called their location the
‘Fire Hole.’”
From these sources it is apparent that many trappers traversed the
“crest of the world,” and its secrets were common knowledge among the
whole fraternity. The evaluation placed upon these singular experiences
would naturally depend upon the judgment of the several hunters. Father
DeSmet took the liberty of placing their reactions upon a superstitious
basis. He said the region was considered an abode of evil spirits. The
eruptions were supposed to result from combat between infernal spirits.
This was probably the view of some, but all hunters were not such tyros
in natural science. Indeed, it is quite reasonable to suppose that at
least a few were first-rate naturalists. However, some of them were
killed in the wilderness; others withdrew to other fields of interest;
and none of them envisioned any lively public concern over scenery. A
few had gone to the trouble of recording and relating their experiences
only to be laughed to scorn or made the butt of jokesters. Why should
honest men like Colter, Meek, and Ferris go out of their way simply to
be dubbed outlandish prevaricators? Of course, the answer is found in
the fact that as a class they deliberately brought such a reputation
upon themselves. Take the case of Joe Meek. Upon one occasion his party
was floundering about in the Gallatin Valley. Meek suggested that their
bewilderment might be lessened by climbing a high peak and getting their
bearings. No one would accompany him so he went alone. When he returned
there was considerable interest in his experience. Naturally his ego
expanded; he took on a knowing air. He erroneously contended that he
could see the Yellowstone, Missouri, and Snake rivers from the lofty
height. Later, the brigade leader sent Moses “Black” Harris to another
high point to reconnoiter. When he returned the men pressed him for
information, and, not to be outdone, he declared that he saw “the city
of St. Louis, and one fellow drinking a beer.”[105]
Therefore, two conditions combined to withhold the knowledge of
Yellowstone wonders from the world. The men who knew of her marvels were
seldom equipped to describe or interpret them, and the public was in no
better state to accept them. Hence, this trapper lore was barren of
result, locked up as it was in the minds of generally illiterate men. It
all but perished with them and had no definite bearing upon the final
and conclusive discovery. For more than a generation the tales of
trappers were bandied around on the lips of indifferent mountaineers. In
this rough dress the wonders of Yellowstone were either received with
uncivil incredulity or as a joke to be indulgently humored.
Conclusive evidence of the trappers’ discovery and exploration of
Yellowstone has been adduced. The fur traders were well acquainted with
every portion of it, but their knowledge passed with them. Only a
tradition persisted. In 1860 the elements of this tradition came within
a rifle shot of conversion to truth. During the latter fifties the
United States government had a corps of Topographical Engineers in the
upper Missouri country. Only a double assignment to Captain W. F.
Raynolds saved the Park from official discovery in June, 1860. He was
directed to explore the country from which the headwaters of the
Yellowstone, Gallatin, and Madison rivers originated. He was also told
to be on hand north of the Canadian border on July 18 to observe the
eclipse of the sun.
The expedition traversed the Wind River Valley, crossed Union Pass, and
turned north. From a position nearly opposite Two Ocean Pass the party
attempted to knife its way through the Absaroka Mountains, but it was
June, and the defiles were choked with snow. Guide Jim Bridger pleaded
with them to swing south and enter the plateau from Snake River. He told
them they couldn’t get through, that even a “bird wouldn’t fly over
there without takin’ a supply of grub along.” But the time was short,
and Captain Raynolds reluctantly turned away from the prospect of
verifying “marvelous tales of burning plains, immense lakes and boiling
springs,” to witness the certain obliteration of Old Sol. It was a lucky
choice for the future of Yellowstone because discovery in 1860 could
hardly have been so propitious as it was a decade later.
Parties in Search of Gold
Another series of partial exploration was inaugurated in the early
sixties by the Argonauts. Nature’s distribution of precious metals is
rather far-flung in western America. Therefore, miners were not inclined
toward geographic discrimination. Spirit brothers to the trappers, they
searched the Rockies with wonderful energy and daring. Deep snow, arctic
cold, yawning precipices, and fierce Indians were all defied in their
eager quest for a new Eldorado. It would have been strange indeed if
they had missed the Yellowstone country.
Gold seekers were hardy, optimistic, and foot-loose. Ever impatient of
restraint, they responded like mercury to the fever of a “gold
excitement.” To them every range, mountain, and gulch offered a
challenge that required acceptance. Actuated by a single thought, these
colorful adventurers literally swarmed to the Pacific coast in ’49.
Subsequently, a backwash rolled over into Nevada and Idaho. In the
sixties Montana received a portion of the overflow. The Bitter Root
Range was prospected with a “fine tooth comb.” In feverish haste these
prospectors encompassed the whole of Yellowstone. However, this vast
volcanic plateau provided little inducement to tarry, while other
regions in close proximity yielded one of the greatest treasure troves
on earth. In the decade of 1860, Alder Gulch, Bannock, Virginia,
Leesburg, Butte, Helena, and Anaconda were magic names. What chance for
attention had Yellowstone’s mountain-locked mysteries in such a
maelstrom of lusty life and immediate material reward?
The DeLacy party represents the most notable gold-inspired visitation.
This party, consisting of twenty-seven men, left Virginia City on August
3, 1863. They crossed southeastern Idaho, thence to Jackson Hole. They
followed the Snake River into the Park and discovered the fact that
Lewis and Shoshone lakes were a branch of the Snake River drainage. In
fact, the larger lake was named DeLacy, but unfortunately it was later
renamed Shoshone by the Hayden Survey. DeLacy’s party crossed the
Divide, and on September 9 they entered the Firehole Basin where they
“nooned.” They were actually in the midst of the Lower Geyser Basin,
picking their way cautiously because “the ground sounded hollow beneath
our feet.” Allow Mr. DeLacy to describe their reactions:
The water of these springs was intensely hot, of a beautiful
ultramarine blue, some boiling up in the middle, and many of them of
very large size, being at least twenty feet in diameter and as deep.
There were hundreds of these springs, and in the distance we could see
and hear others, which would eject a column of steam and with a loud
noise. These were probably geysers, and the boys called them
“steamboat springs.” No one in the company had ever seen or heard of
anything like this region, and we were all delighted with what we
saw.[106]
Had Walter W. DeLacy been more of a naturalist and less the prospector
he might have achieved the distinction of being the real and effective
discoverer of Yellowstone. However, he and his associates were looking
for gold, and while they saw many wondrous things they failed to
appreciate them. They were in a hurry. Even so, the time was not ripe
for any special interest in Wonderland. Montana was only a name
signifying rowdy mining camps. There were no newspapers to herald the
discovery, no telegraph to transmit the news. Indeed, general attention
was focused upon the Civil War.
However, DeLacy drew a more accurate map of the area than had been
drafted before. Actually, he alone correctly represented the drainage of
the Shoshone basin as tributary to the Snake River, a point which even
later explorers such as Folsom, Washburn, and Hayden failed to observe.
He also kept a daily journal, but it was not published until 1876.
Walter W. DeLacy was, therefore, just another explorer who failed to
take “time by the forelock” and, hence, lost an opportunity to win
considerable fame.
While the DeLacy party prospected the southwestern section of the Park,
a similar group, led by a man named Austin, explored the eastern
periphery for the same purpose and with better success.
James Stuart might logically have been Yellowstone’s honor man, but the
breaks were against him. He and his brother Granville were outstanding
leaders in Montana’s pioneering. In the spring of 1863 James Stuart led
an exploratory party into the lower Yellowstone. They were searching for
gold, but fate so arranged that six miners who intended to join them
(the Fairweather party) had the great good fortune of finding the famous
Alder Gulch, whereas the main expedition under Stuart experienced a
serious battle with the Crows, in which two men were killed and three
wounded.[107] After their unpleasant encounter this party encircled the
entire “crest of the world,” traveling sixteen hundred miles.
James Stuart was a natural leader of men and a superb Indian fighter. In
1864 he organized and directed a frontier militia to punish Indians for
the outrages before mentioned and others perpetrated in the vicinity of
Deer Lodge. This party crossed the lower Yellowstone River, skirted the
Absarokas to Shoshone River, thence proceeded westward. At least a part
of the expedition returned by way of Yellowstone Lake and Canyon, but
Stuart was not in that particular division. Because of his sterling
worth and vast experience he was the unanimous choice for leader in the
final discovery effort of 1870, but misfortune dogged him to the last.
He was summoned for jury service, and the court refused to excuse him
for a pleasure trip!
In 1864 H. W. Wayant and William Hamilton led a party of approximately
forty miners, with horses and pack train, into the Lamar Valley. Their
horses were stolen by Indians near Soda Butte, but the mules would not
stampede. Wayant, Harrison, and ten others with their mules ascended
Cache Creek to Index Peak. Later they circled back by way of Amethyst
Mountain to Tower Falls.
Later in the same year, 1864, a small company of miners, including
George Huston, Rube Libby, George Hubbard, Soos, Lewis, and a Mexican,
made a cursory trip in the Park area. They entered the region from the
west and ascended the main Firehole River. They were startled by the
eruption of the Giantess and other geysers, but they passed by with a
glance and dismissed them as of slight importance.[108] An account of
this journey was discussed with L. M. Freeman, a newspaper reporter, at
Emigrant Gulch. He arranged to have it published in the _Omaha
Herald_.[109] Other prominent miners whose explorations in Yellowstone
are well known were C. J. Baronett, Bart Henderson, H. Sprague,
Frederick Bottler, Adam Miller, and Adams and Crandall. The latter two
were killed by Indians in the Hoodoo region in 1870, while Adam Miller
and two companions narrowly escaped.[110] It would appear that probably
a dozen nondescript mining groups had some contact with the region
during the sixties. Yet these miner meanderings did not definitely
confirm the actual existence of Wonderland, even though they added
another chapter to an increasingly impressive legend. However, the
persistence of this marvelous legend between 1820 and 1870 was largely
due to the influence of Jim Bridger.
Chapter VII
JIM BRIDGER—MAN AND LEGEND
It is customary to assign an extraordinary disregard for truth to Jim
Bridger. At times he appears as a rantipole hero, and undoubtedly he
drew the long bow to unparalleled tension in matters of adventure.
Still, he achieved excellent recommendations for reliability and
trustworthiness from all the government officials who had business in
the West. Surely Bridger was such a contradictory personage as to
warrant investigation. Jim was the son of James and Chloe Bridger. He
was born in Richmond, Virginia, on March 17, 1804. The Bridgers moved to
St. Louis about 1812. The father died in 1816, and Jim became a flatboat
operator; then, an apprentice in Phil Creamer’s blacksmith shop. There
his interest was first pointed to the West. In 1822 he became a member
of Andrew Henry’s party and departed for the Indian country. There is
some evidence that he was the young man in the detail which deserted
Hugh Glass in the time of his great need in 1823.
Bridger was a large man, fully six feet high, all rawhide and
mountain-wise. He was wiry in action, with a quick, dangerous movement
in handling weapons. His hair was auburn; his eyes were light blue. They
were keen, friendly eyes in conversation but veritable hawk eyes for the
game trail which he followed at maximum speed. Jim was shrewdly
intelligent, although he could neither read nor write. He learned to
speak French and Spanish from other trappers. In addition, he spoke
several Indian languages, and he was able to communicate with all
tribesmen by means of sign language. Indeed, he had a reputation as an
entertainer among the natives. However, it is said that he exercised
reserve and caution because he was suspiciously alert against deception
of any kind. His very life depended upon accurately seeing and
interpreting the signs of the wilderness. When serving as a guide for
the army Jim once reported a thin column of smoke many miles away.
Several officers trained field glasses upon the designated point without
seeing any. They expressed their doubt of its existence. Jim was
indignant: “Dam paper-collar soldiers, a tellin’ thar ain’t no smoke,
when I seen it!” He was sure of his ability to outsee them even with the
aid of field glasses, and he was right![111]
A frontiersman named Vaughn left an account of his introduction to this
master guide in 1850:
... On they came, a big, strong, broad-shouldered, flaxon-haired, and
blue-eyed man in the lead, riding as fine a saddle animal as I ever
saw. They were now quite close; they came within a few paces and
stopped.
“How?” exclaimed the big man.
“How, how,” we exclaimed, shaking hands with him in turn.
“Who are you?” he asked, “free trappers?”
“No,” I replied, “we belong to the Company. And you?”
“My name is Bridger,” he said, “Jim Bridger. Maybe you’ve heard of
me.”
We had. There wasn’t a man west of the Mississippi River who did not
know him or know of him, for he was the greatest hunter, trapper, and
Indian fighter of us all.[112]
Yes, Bridger was the real tobacco chew, “thirty-third degree” mountain
man, and he certainly knew his way around. Every ridge and canyon of the
Rockies dropped their last shadows of oblivion before his restless
energy. He spent his winters in trapping and his summers in exploration.
On most of these trips he chose to go alone, relying upon his faithful
horse, trusty rifle, and hatchet of the finest steel. One excursion took
him so far north that only the North Star served as guide. He followed
the McKenzie River to the Arctic Ocean. This journey took eighteen
months.[113] The rivers, mountains, and valleys of the Rockies were as
one great plantation to him. He knew them all and kept a picture of the
whole area in his mind. He was possessed by an insatiable curiosity. In
wandering about the untouched West he kept poking into the off-trail
corners to feast his eyes on strange wonders of hidden fairylands.
Bridger’s services were always in demand. He started with the Missouri
Fur Company. Later he became one of Ashley’s men. By 1830 he was
recognized as one of the most daring and effective trappers of the West.
This won him a partnership in the newly organized Rocky Mountain Fur
Company. After the disbanding of this firm he became identified with
John Jacob Astor’s American Fur Company. Naturally he realized the
evanescent character of the fur business. In 1843 this insight impelled
him to establish Fort Bridger on Black’s Fork of Green River. Here he
developed one of the great frontier institutions. It was an oasis in the
desert. Here the weary traveler found respite from the toil of his
journey. While wagons were being repaired, stock exchanged, and
provisions replenished, the wayfarers got acquainted with the gracious
host. Bridger generously imparted his valuable mountain information to
the public. Frequently he rendered service as a guide, for which he was
liberally rewarded. His unerring judgment of distance and contour,
together with a photographic memory of detail, enabled him to make nice
corrections on the drafts of map makers. There is no gainsaying the fact
that Jim Bridger was a man of affairs.
[Illustration: Jim Bridger.]
In the autumn of 1824 some of Ashley’s men were trapping the headwaters
of Bear River. They were uncertain of its course, and Bridger was chosen
to explore the stream to settle the bet. When he reached Great Salt Lake
he scooped up a handful of its saline water. Spitting and coughing, he
is reported to have said, “Hell, I’m on the shores of the Pacific.”
Naturally of mild and gracious manner, Bridger possessed a Yankee wit
that enabled him to take care of himself. This fact is attested by his
ability to get along with the Indians, among whom he was known as Chief
“Big Throat.” He prided himself in being able to outdo the “sarpints” in
every field of action. Bridger’s experience with Indians made him very
skeptical. This caution is expressed in his warning to Colonel Henry B.
Carrington on the Powder River Expedition of 1866:
Better not go too fur. Thar’s Injuns enough lyin’ under wolf-skins er
skulkin’ on them cliffs, I’m a-tellin’ ye. They foller ye allus.
They’ve seen ye ev’ry day, an’ take it frum me—when ye don’t see any
of ’em that’s jest the time to watch out fer their devilment.[114]
However, he was wise in making alliances with them. Three times he
married Indian squaws, a Flathead, a Ute, and a Shoshoni. These
affiliations gave him greater security in his travels. Upon one
occasion, when reference was made to this multiple spouse arrangement,
someone asked Jim: “Which is which is which?” Quick as a flash came his
rejoinder: “Thar all witches!”
From the Flathead wife two children were born, Josephine and Felix. Both
were educated in St. Louis. His Ute wife died at the birth of a
daughter, Virginia. Buffalo milk was utilized to nourish the infant, and
she later returned her father’s care by looking after him in his
declining years. His Shoshoni wife also had two children, Mary and
William.
During his indefatigable peregrinations Bridger gained intimacy with
Yellowstone. He must have had a soul-loving zest for the wonderful and
beautiful, or he wouldn’t have noticed nature’s handiwork in the first
place. Early in his experience he noted the disbelief that greeted his
relations. Observing that unimaginative people regarded him as a liar,
he evidently concluded to adopt the old poacher’s proverb about keeping
the game when given the name. Why not embroider his tales in proportion
to the listener’s credulity? Anyway, much entertainment was expected
from a guide. Jim was not one to disappoint a tenderfoot. One young
unsophisticate, attached to a government party, approached “Old Gabe”
(Jim’s nickname) in a patronizing manner upon one occasion. “Mr.
Bridger, they tell me that you have lived a long time on these plains
and in the mountains.” “Young feller,” said “Gabe,” “you see that thar
butte yonder? Well, siree, that mountain was nuthin’ but a hole in the
ground when I come here!” It is said that two robbers entered his room
at Fort Bridger. He awoke from sleep and said, “What air ye lookin’
fer?” One of the desperados replied, “We are lookin’ for your money.”
Bridger then answered, “Jest a minnit an’ I’ll git up and help ye.” The
robbers did not wait.[115]
When asked about some of his extravagant statements he quietly intimated
that there was no harm in fooling people who pumped him for information
and would not even say “thank ye.” Like most of his contemporaries, Jim
didn’t think it proper to spoil a good story just for the sake of the
truth. He could reel off story after story with astonishing spontaneity.
These yarns were related in a solemn dead-pan gravity that was very
effective.
Some of Bridger’s more notable experiences and stories follow a pattern
worthy of perpetuation in the literature of the Old West. In October
1832, while hunting in the Beaverhead country, Bridger’s party was
attacked by the Blackfeet. In this skirmish Jim received two long iron
arrowheads in his back, one of which was embedded there for three years.
It was removed by Dr. Marcus Whitman under circumstances that showed the
strength and endurance of both surgeon and patient.
Perhaps this experience was the basis of the story he told about an
encounter with the Blackfeet tribe. Said Jim:
The pesky devils made a circle all aroun’ me, ten Injuns deep. Then
they pounce on top of me and hack me with their tommy hawks. The
varmints stomp and club me until I faint dead away.[116]
At this point his voice would choke up with emotion. Finally, someone
would make bold to inquire, “What did they do next, Jim?” Whereupon he
would earnestly reply, “Them danged cussed Induns kilt and sculped me!”
What did Bridger actually know about Yellowstone? Probably his first
visit was in 1829. He was also a member of a trapping party that worked
the Bighorn Basin north, then passed over to Three Forks, and trapped to
their sources during 1830. Therefore, they were in the western part of
the Park. Dr. F. V. Hayden called Bridger the best mountain man the West
had ever produced and said he learned of the marvels of Yellowstone from
him in the early fifties. It is reasonable to believe that the old scout
saw and appreciated all of the major features of Wonderland, with the
possible exception of the Upper Geyser Basin. His descriptions of
spouting springs, strange to say, fall far short of the standard set by
the Old Faithful group.[117]
Several of the most famous Bridger yarns were embroidered upon a
Yellowstone backdrop. It was this unique element that made them
unconscious conservers of fact. A certain residuum of truth seems to be
present in each of his tales if one searches carefully enough. There
were occasional implications so freighted with the earmarks of reality
that genuine curiosity was piqued. Amusement was often tempered by
wonder; perhaps there was something in the old mountaineer’s ravings!
There was the celebrated Obsidian Cliff fiasco. Its perpendicular
volcanic glass properties were advertised in this yarn: “Oncet I camp
yonder in a purty meadow. Wantin’ meat I went lookin’ fer an elk. I seen
a beaut a right smart spell yonder. Comin’ close, I let him have it.
Bejabers, he didn’t make a move. I moved nigh onto him—took a dead bead.
Same result. Says I, I’ll get so darn nigh the report o’ the gun’ll kill
him. So I did. The blame critter didn’t look up. O’ course, I thought he
was deaf, dumb, and blind. I was so bloomin’ mad I grab my blunderbuss
by the shank an’ start runnin’ direct fur him, intendin’ to smash him
slam-bang on the haid. Well siree, ye’d never believe it! What I act’lly
hit was the side of a glass mountain ... crawlin’ to the top, what do I
see but that same elk way yonder, feedin’ as peaceable as ye please.”
Thus he gave a quaint representation of an interesting feature of
nature.
Bridger boasted the knowledge of a choice campground hidden among the
inner labyrinth of Yellowstone’s canyon. The marvel of this place was in
its curious delayed-action echoes. “In fact,” said Jim, “it’s a natural
alarm clock which I winds up so: when campin’ thar I beds myself down,
and jist afor I goes to sleep I raises my haid from the saddle an’
hollers, ‘Time to get up, you sunuvagun’; an’ sure as shootin’, the echo
comes a bouncin’ back at the crack o’ dawn!”
Still another extravaganza, with a basis in fact, had a bearing upon the
northeast corner of the Park. Jim averred that the entire region was
under the curse of an old Crow chieftain. All things became lifeless,
plants, animals, rivers, and even the light of sun, moon, and stars had
a petrified cast. “Yes, siree, thar’s miles o’ peetrefied hills, covered
with layers o’ peetrefied trees, and on ’em trees air peetrefied birds a
singin’ peetrefied songs!” Sometimes for the sake of spice and variety
he used the word putrified instead of peetrefied.
There can be little doubt that he actually knew of a spot in the great
lake where a cast hook and line would catch a cutthroat. Then a
semicircular swerve would bring him slowly to shore. Upon taking the
fish from the hook it would be found well-cooked and ready for eating!
Jim’s Alum Creek episode tips heavily on the ludicrous side. “We was
ridin’ east o’ the river along the side o’ a creek. ’Twas boggy an’
goin’ was slow. When the cañon narrowed we guide our hosses into the
stream. ’Twasn’t no time till the hosses’ feet shrunk to pin points,
an’, by tarnation, we went twenty miles in a jiffy. Them thar waters was
so strong o’ alum as to pucker distance itself!”
Is there any wonder that a classic mantle of exaggeration should invest
Bridger with an enduring title of Münchausen? However, underneath Jim’s
tough, frontier-beaten exterior, obvious self-esteem, and braggadocio,
there was a genuine and picturesque sincerity. He was not only colorful
in acting an interesting frontier role, in which the setting was fully
exploited, but he was a reliable geographer as well. Captain J. W.
Gunnison received such a precise account of Yellowstone from Bridger as
to enable him to write the following vivid description without reference
to any other source:
He [Bridger] gives a picture, most romantic and enticing, of the
headwaters of the Yellowstone. A lake, sixty miles long, cold and
pellucid, lies embosomed among high precipitous mountains. On the west
side is a sloping plain, several miles wide, with clumps of trees and
groves of pine. The ground resounds with the tread of horses. Geysers
spout up seventy feet high, with a terrific, hissing noise, at regular
intervals. Waterfalls are sparkling, leaping and thundering down the
precipices, and collect in the lake, and for fifteen miles roars
through the perpendicular canyon at the outlet. In this section are
the “Great Springs”—so hot that meat is readily cooked in them, and as
they descend on the successive terraces, afford at length delightful
baths. On the other side is an acid spring, which gushes out in a
river torrent; and below is a cave, which supplies “vermillion” for
the savages in abundance.[118]
Surely this evidence speaks well of the great scout’s capacity to impart
the whole truth to those who were prepared to receive it. Bridger was
evidently an unconscious believer in the scripture, “I am made all
things to all men, that I might by all means save some.” He persisted in
his way of life among the mountains until late in the seventies. He
could not withdraw from the companionship of the free and generous
spirits around a campfire. However, his demeanor became more subdued
with age. There was upon him much of the dignity of an Indian chief.
After all, to the red men he was Chief Big Throat, also the Blanket
Chief.
Before retiring, Bridger managed a visit to Washington, D. C., where he
was introduced to the President of the United States. After staring at
him in amazement for a minute, he turned to the congressman and
remarked, “Looks jest like any other man, don’t he?”[119]
After many years Bridger retired to a farm near Kansas City, Missouri.
In 1884 the uncrowned king of Rocky Mountain scouts passed beyond, and
thereby an epoch was ended.
In respect to his Yellowstone explorations, it is worthy of note that
long before his death Bridger succeeded in kindling a lively interest
among others. In fact, partly due to his efforts a consuming curiosity
was preying upon the minds of several leading Montana residents. These
citizens proved competent to find and interpret the great features of
natural history.
Chapter VIII
FINAL DISCOVERY IN 1869 AND 1870
During the year 1867 several garbled accounts of monstrous wonders were
reported to the _Montana Post_ at Virginia City by returning
prospectors. On July 29 the _Post_ stated that an expedition to the
Yellowstone country was being organized to explore the region as far as
Yellowstone Lake. The project evidently fell through, but the notice
accurately gauged the sentiment of Montana people.
By 1867 a dozen ranking citizens, later to be known as the
Washburn-Langford-Doane party, held one common opinion concerning the
Yellowstone rumors; namely, that it was high time some reputable
authority should ascertain the facts. These men made tentative plans for
an exploration that year and also in 1868, but the urge was not strong
enough to impel definite preparations until 1869.
The Folsom-Cook-Peterson Exploration
Even this effort proved abortive, due to Indian unrest and the failure
of the military at Fort Ellis to furnish an escort. However, there were
several men living at Diamond City on the Missouri River, forty miles
below Helena, who were enrolled and waiting to join the Helena party.
When word arrived of the postponement they decided to set out by
themselves. This little expedition consisted of Hon. David E. Folsom, C.
W. Cook, and William Peterson. Folsom and Cook were unusually
intelligent men, with large experience in ranching and mining affairs.
They were capable of executing a purposeful exploration of this
character. Mr. Peterson’s precise status is not so well known. He was
born in Denmark, served many years as a sailor, came to Montana as a
miner, and later made a modest fortune as a stockman in Idaho. He was no
doubt a resourceful member of the party, but his educational deficiency
prevented him from making any contribution to the literary side of the
enterprise.[120]
They left Diamond City on September 6, after making arrangements to be
away for six weeks. Their provisions and armaments were adequate for any
emergency which three men might be expected to meet and survive. They
had three riding horses and two for the packs. Among the usual camping
equipment were listed a field glass, a pocket compass, and a
thermometer.
Bozeman was their last station of supply. From there they ascended a
tributary of the East Gallatin River, and crossed the divide onto the
headwaters of Trail Creek, which lies on the Yellowstone drainage. By
September 14 they were at the junction of the Yellowstone, near Tower
Falls. They followed the East Fork of Yellowstone River (now Lamar) for
a day and then doubled back to Tower Creek. The scenery at this point
intrigued them:
... Yesterday we caught glimpses of scenery surpassing in grandeur
anything we have before seen so we concluded to lay over one day and
give it a more thorough examination....[121]
They were speaking of the overhanging cliffs and the second canyon of
the Yellowstone directly beneath, also of the classic falls on Tower
Creek.
They reached Grand Canyon on September 21, after two weeks’ travel. From
there they journeyed to the extreme west end of the lake and thence to
Shoshone Lake, which they mistakenly considered the head of Madison
River. Here they saw species of rare aquatic fowl, such as the whistling
and trumpeter swans. Crossing the Continental Divide, which they called
the “Dike,” they emerged into the Lower Geyser Basin. They made precise
observations of the geysers and hot springs throughout the area and were
enthusiastic over their performance. There was no lack of appreciation
in this party.
On the night of October 1, three thoughtful men conversed in their
Firehole River camp. William Peterson observed that it would not be long
before settlers and prospectors began coming into the district and
taking up the land around the geysers and canyons. Charles Cook
sincerely hoped that people might have free access to the area to enjoy
its beauty, while David Folsom expressed the opinion that the government
should not allow anyone to locate in the vicinity.
Fifty-three years later, upon the occasion of the Park’s Golden
Anniversary, observed on July 14, 1922, at Madison Junction, the matured
reflection of Charles W. Cook was recorded:
None of us definitely suggested the idea of a national park. National
parks were unknown then. But we knew that as soon as the wonderful
character of the country was generally known outside, there would be
plenty of people hurrying to get possession, unless something were
done.
We all had this thought in mind when we came out a few days later, and
told others what we had seen.[122]
[Illustration: Trumpeter Swan, a rare species of aquatic life.]
Folsom, in particular, had a lively interest in the idea of preserving
the phenomena, and he discussed the subject with H. D. Washburn, N. P.
Langford, and others. Indeed, Mr. Peterson later remarked that their own
astonishment was so profound that they thought surely no one would
believe half of what they could tell. However, upon the solicitation of
a friend, Cook and Folsom prepared a joint article from their diaries
for publication. The account was rejected by _The New York Tribune_,
_Scribner’s_, and _Harper’s_ as “they had a reputation that they could
not risk with such unreliable material.” Finally it appeared in the July
1870 issue of the _Western Monthly_ of Chicago. The editors deleted the
account considerably and printed an emasculated narrative. It is
affirmed that among the items left out was the germ of the grand idea
advocating the creation of a national park.
Much credit is due these three gentlemen for accomplishing a difficult
and dangerous mission without military escort. It was purely a private
venture, lasting thirty-six days, and may be considered as having been
eminently successful. In fact, it was the first expedition to make a
complete and authentic report of its exploration.
The Washburn-Langford-Doane Expedition
It was these articulate reports of Folsom, Cook, and Peterson that
electrified the natural interest of Helena’s intellectual leadership.
Thereafter, Langford and his associates were burning to effect a grand
expedition and achieve conclusive results. General Phil Sheridan gave
the project his blessing and the assurance of a military escort.
A congenial personnel was sifted out, consisting of Hon. Nathaniel P.
Langford, Hon. Cornelius Hedges, Hon. Truman C. Everts, Hon. Samuel T.
Hauser, Walter Trumbull, Benjamin Stickney, Jr., Warren C. Gillette, and
Jacob Smith. James Stuart was selected as leader, but he was deprived of
that privilege by jury service. Thereupon, Surveyor General Henry D.
Washburn was given the honor of taking command. He was a worthy leader,
having achieved the rank of Major General in the Civil War. He had also
served two terms in Congress. Altogether it was a hand-picked company.
The men were uniformly young and energetic, with the exception of Everts
who was fifty-four. Several of them had served as Vigilantes. Indeed,
they were men of intelligence, action, and high integrity. With one
exception the men were serious-minded and mature. They early sensed the
hazards of the endeavor and struggled manfully to reduce them to a
minimum.
Elaborate preparations were made in point of equipment and provisions.
Two packers, Reynolds and Bean, and two colored cooks were employed, and
the whole enterprise, although private, took on a semiscientific,
quasi-military character from the start. Washburn possessed a copy of
the Folsom-Cook diary and a map made by Walter W. DeLacy.[123] In
addition, he had numerous conversations with these men, and he was,
therefore, the beneficiary of their experience. They left Helena on
August 17, 1870. Four days later they were at Fort Ellis. Here they
listened to the post order detailing Lieutenant Gustavus C. Doane, one
sergeant, and four privates “to escort the Surveyor-General of Montana
to the falls and lakes of the Yellowstone and return....” The soldiers
in the party were Sergeant William Baker and Privates John Williamson,
George W. McConnell, William Leipler, and Charles Moore.
There was no allusion to thermal phenomena or any exotic features
whatsoever. Judge Hedges subsequently characterized the general temper
of the explorers in respect to those particulars:
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.[124]
The complete expedition now comprehended nineteen men, thirty-five
horses and mules, and adequate supplies for a month’s journey. Leaving
Fort Ellis, they ascended the Yellowstone River to its junction with the
Gardner. This brought them within five miles of the Mammoth Hot Springs,
but ignorance of the fact precluded their visitation. Instead, they
crossed over the plateau and reached Tower Creek where they camped on
August 27. All members were delighted with the hot springs and fumaroles
in that area.
Around the campfire they evolved a name-giving policy and enjoyed great
sport incident to its first application. They adopted a self-sacrificing
resolution. Natural features should not be given the names of the
present personnel or their relatives and friends. Instead, all wonders
must bear the most appropriate cognomens possible. This was a noble
gesture, and while it was not strictly observed one wishes that their
demonic impressions might have been less vivid. Here was the Devil’s
Slide; there, Hellbroth Springs; yonder, Brimstone; now, Devil’s Hoof,
Den, Kitchen, and Ink Well; again, Hells Half Acre and Hell Roaring
Mountain. Surely their concepts of Christian theology rendered them
acutely conscious of the attributes and environment of His Satanic
Majesty.
The first controversy arose over naming the falls. “What shall we name
these sentinel-guarded falls?” “Minaret is the proper name,” said young
Trumbull. “What’s a minaret?” queried Jake Smith. Trumbull gave a
classical description of Moslem architecture and drew his analogy to
this similitude. Sam Hauser objected on the ground that the name was not
“fitten” in western America where there weren’t any mosques. Hence, he
proposed the more expressive name “Tower.” The council deliberated,
expanded, and talked big. Minaret was the most significant, had a deeper
meaning, more symbolical. Therefore, General Washburn christened them
“Minaret Falls.”[125]
But Sam Hauser was a politician; he later became governor of Montana.
During the night he confidentially circulated the rumor that Walter
Trumbull had a girl friend by the name of Minnie Rhett. Trumbull denied
the statement, said it was a canard, a roarback, a plain lie! However,
the seed of doubt had been sown, and at breakfast Hauser’s point was
won. The name was Tower Falls. Later it transpired that the future
governor’s girl friend was a Miss Tower! Surely there was genuine
political statesmanship in this party, and its genius was clearly
manifest before the journey’s end.
The party skirted Mount Washburn on the twenty-ninth and spontaneously
named it for their honored leader, because he was the first to climb its
summit. Said Washburn, “I saw the canyon and the lake. There are
unmistakable columns of steam in the distance. This is a glorious
region.” Whereupon the entire party hustled upward, frightening the
resentful bighorn en route. Upon reaching the summit silence prevailed
while these subdued men paid unconscious tribute to the Powers That Be.
Standing there upon a natural observatory, they looked down upon the
whole grand panorama, as does yonder eagle. Their vision darted a
hundred miles southward, where the Tetons glittered like purple
icebergs. Then nearer they beheld Lake Titicaca’s only rival, shimmering
in the sun. Lake Yellowstone’s deeply sinuous shores, scattered islands,
and fingerlike peninsulas gave it a mystic character. Now their gaze
followed the Yellowstone River crooking away from the lake and then
whirling toward them flashing in its canyon cameo until it seemed to be
biting at their very feet. From this central apex the whole
mountain-girt plateau conformed to the shape of a mammoth saucer as its
distant rim merged with the sky.
Another day found them standing on the brink of an imprisoned river’s
chasm, enchanted by the ponderous roaring of the awful force below. So
vast were the canyon’s alternating gulfs and monoliths that lofty pines
“dwindle to shrubs in the dizziness of distance!” Bald eagles far below
screamed in angry protest upon this invasion of their secret eyries.
Fishhawks hovered cautiously above, less fearful of new dangers than
old. Nineteen lonely men stood amazed by an environment at once both
grand and gloomy, mellow and terrible, an “empire of shadows and
turmoil.”[126]
Then the sun came out and the whole gorge flamed! They beheld the
marvelously variegated volcanic coloring as vivid and broken as the
field of a kaleidoscope. It was as though rainbows had fallen from the
sky and draped themselves like glorious banners upon the chasm below.
How did it all come about?
All nature’s forces conspired to build this temple to her glory. The
smooth, sharp tongue of glacial ice first plowed the great furrow deep
into the bosom of the earth. Volcanic fires subdued the rigid hardness
of the riven rock. Steam from boiling springs tempered to plastic
yielding the surface of massive stone. And wind and water came with
all their energies and skill to carve and sculpture it to befitting
shapes. The air brought all its magic alchemy to bear upon the
ingredients of the rock to call thence the gorgeous pigments for its
coloring.[127]
Truly, here was a noble river, vibrating like a bundle of quivering
electric wires a mile below, yet notching the centuries, revealing a
record of geological time, and disclosing to men how God writes history.
It was a canyon full of interest even to the most casual observer in the
group. External senses were all appropriately appealed to. Indeed, the
hidden recesses of the inner self were reached and stirred by the wild
beauty and mystery of the scene. The world would surely want to visit
such a place.
As they reluctantly journeyed along the river toward the lake, their
ears were assailed by a series of resounding thuds. The source was the
combined agitations of Mud Volcano and Dragons Mouth. These frightful
vents reminded them of two vicious, frothing animals chained in
cavernous lairs. There they spewed their foul compounds, as in terrible
rage, growling and groaning in their perpetual regurgitations. It was
one of the fascinating, if loathsome, sights in the Park.
[Illustration: Bighorn resentful toward invaders.]
Later there was Yellowstone Lake, nestled serenely against its
buttress-based, snow-capped mountain guardians. Many people have been
made happy by its sparkling water. One capable writer has left his
impression:
From a gentle headland, at last we overlooked the lake. It was like
the fairest dream which ever came to bless the slumbers of a child.
How still it was! What silence reigned! How lovingly it laid its hush
upon you![128]
It was the Washburn party that fancied a resemblance between the lake
and the human hand. Concerning this analogy Professor R. W. Raymond made
an amusing observation:
The gentleman who first discovered this resemblance must have thought
the size and form of fingers quite insignificant, provided the number
was complete. The hand in question is afflicted with Elephantiasis in
the thumb, dropsy in the little finger, hornet bites on the third
finger, and the last stages of starvation in the other two.[129]
What a struggle they had in threading their way through fir and
lodgepole forests east of the lake. The tanglewood was nearly
impenetrable; no trails to guide them except the dim and devious ways of
wild animals, “through which we toiled and swore our way, coming out
after several days tattered and torn, ragged, bleeding and sullen.”[130]
In this welter it was every man for himself after the general course had
been determined. It was this circumstance that eventuated in the painful
despair of Truman C. Everts.
Lost in the Wilderness
In Yellowstone even now the wilderness is almost within rifle-shot of
the Grand Loop highway. Furthermore, the area’s conformation to a vast
plateau renders it relatively deficient in accessible landmarks. Hedges
and Stickney were inadvertently separated from the party on September 8,
but they stumbled upon the camp by nightfall. The very next day Mr.
Everts unintentionally drifted away from his associates. By evening he
was laboriously embroiled in the forest labyrinth southeast of Lake
Yellowstone. Unconcerned the first night, he made himself comfortable,
fully assured of an early reunion the next day. From this point on, a
chronicle of his experience reveals a record of astonishing incompetency
and carelessness on his part. It is amazing that he escaped fatal
consequences.
Up bright and early he was retracing the trail; dismounting to survey an
engulfing situation, he left his horse untied, and it bolted. Upon its
disappearing back was his entire outfit. In his excitement Everts then
lost his spectacles, a grievous loss because he was nearsighted. Later
on he also lost two knives and one of his shoes. The most valuable
article on his person was his field glass. It saved his life.
Another day passed; complacence now turned to frenzy, and Everts fairly
ran in circles. His voice gave out; his head whirled. The pangs of
hunger were extremely severe, and the close of the second day found him
in tears. A cold, dark night added terrors of its own. There were
howling coyotes and roaring lions—whether real or fancied made little
difference to a timid man.
Still, he reasoned upon his problem and resolved to fight his way
through. In his ill-conceived exertions he came upon a beautiful little
lake. He named it Bessie for his daughter. On its banks were several hot
springs and numerous patches of elk thistles. In an agony of hunger he
tasted a root; it was edible, better still when cooked in the boiling
water. Then a storm came up. It whipped him both in body and mind. He
became lethargic, satisfied to chew thistle roots and bake his backside
on warm spring incrustations. Seven days Everts hovered over this
location. This indecision on his part put him completely out of reach of
salvation by the Washburn party.
Then the skies cleared; the sun glistened upon the water. Its reflection
flashed an idea into his mind. “My opera glasses—fire from heaven!” Oh,
happy, hope-renewing thought! It worked; he made a fire. With new
purpose he bestirred himself; he would make a break, but which way
should he go? South to Snake River? Yes, there were frontiersmen in
Idaho. After many miles of painful toil among the intricacies of hill
and vale his faith weakened. The goal—a notch in the mountain
barrier—seemed to recede as if in mockery of his feeble efforts.[131]
“I’ll go west into the Madison Valley—that’s shorter.” So he stumbled
off in that direction. A precipitous escarpment obstructed his path;
there was no pass. The distraught pilgrim lighted a fire. It got out of
control; he fled from its awful devastation. In utter exhaustion he sat
down to rest; whereupon, he experienced an hallucination. An old
clerical friend seemed to be standing before him. He seemed to say, “Go
back immediately, as rapidly as your strength will permit. There is no
food here, and the idea of scaling these rocks is madness.” Amid serious
misgivings Everts decided to retrace the course of ingress. His heart
nearly failed him as he envisioned the unending panorama of the
Yellowstone River trail. Final resolution was helpful, and he trudged on
by day, rested by night, and gnawed on “Everts” thistle betimes.
For two long weeks the party camped along the southwest shore of the
lake. From this base position they daily sent out searching details,
lighted signal fires, shot guns, posted notices, and cached food. No
clues were found, and the time was far spent. They regretfully concluded
that their companion was either hopelessly lost or well upon his way
toward home. A foot of snow had already fallen. The thirty-day rations
had rendered thirty-two days’ service. In these circumstances Cornelius
Hedges expressed his depression in his diary:
Had to lie in bed to keep warm, wished I was at home ... stormed all
night. We are in for it. Snowed all day ... the season is in our
favor, we shall make haste home as soon as the blockade raises.[132]
Therefore, they left the Thumb of the Lake and started toward Firehole
Basin on September 17. They were exultant over the exploration; accurate
journals were kept. It was generally felt that their observations were
of great value and the exploration would be considered important. Allow
Langford to describe their reactions:
Strange and interesting as are the various objects which we have met
within this vast field of natural wonders, no camp or place of rest on
our journey has afforded our party greater satisfaction than the one
we are now occupying, which is our first camp since emerging from the
dense forest. Filled with gloom at the loss of our comrade, tired,
tattered, browned by exposure and reduced in flesh by our labors, we
resemble more a party of organized mendicants, than of men in pursuit
of Nature’s greatest novelties. But from this point we hope that our
journey will be comparatively free from difficulties of travel.[133]
Having finished an assignment, they were thinking of home and their
neglected affairs. Notwithstanding the grandeur of nature’s wonders in
the Yellowstone Lake region they were about to get the surprise of their
lives. This marvel of wonders occurred on the evening of September 18.
Just as they emerged from the woods into the Upper Geyser Basin, Old
Faithful was shyly preening her billowy plume, and as the vanguard
shouted, “Look!” she gracefully mounted, wave upon wave, until a mighty
torrent vaulted heavenward, where it unfurled like a watery flag, as if
in welcome to its known immortalizers. Thus, the Fairy Queen had the
honor of first saluting those weary explorers, and never since that
eventful day has she failed any visitor.
In that gloryful presence Lieutenant Doane solemnly declared, “The earth
affords not its equal. It is the most lovely inanimate object in
existence.”[134] To General Washburn, the Giantess, when quiet, was like
a hallowed fountain and in eruption, grandly magnificent, with “each
broken atom shining like so many brilliants with myriads of rainbows
dancing in attendance.”[135] What ecstasy! A whole kingdom of fairy
spirits seemed determined to outdo each other. There ensued an orgy of
thermal activity. During the short visit of twenty-two hours, twelve
geysers were seen in action. It was then that their experience waxed
“more and more wonderful until wonder itself became paralyzed.” In this
basin they overcame the tendency to apply the wretched Satanic
nomenclature so fully employed elsewhere. Instead, the names bestowed
bear witness to a profound appreciation. It was for them alone that Old
Faithful marked the hours by sending up “a plume of spun glass
iridescent and superb, against the sky.”[136] When the Giant played,
“Our whole party went wild with enthusiasm; many declared it was three
hundred feet in height.” The picturesque name “Broken Horn” was then
proposed; it is most descriptive and worthy of being retained. The
Grotto reminded them of
... a miniature temple of alabaster whiteness, with arches leading to
some interior Holy of Holies, whose sacred places may never be
profaned by eye or foot.[137]
Geysers soon to become known as Giantess, Lion, Grand, Turban (or Turk’s
Head), Splendid, Beehive, Fan, Castle, Rocket, and Grotto performed with
unrivaled courtesy. What an array of Titans! Surely the world would also
want to know about this.
And then there were the pools, the amazing springs of
Yellowstone—thousands of them, all colors, a riot of aquatic
pigmentation—Emerald, Sapphire, Gentian, Grand Prismatic, Rainbow,
Topaz, and glamorous Morning Glory. The amazing intricacy of color-blend
in the water did not then excel in beauty the surrounding border
incrustations. Indeed, the most delicate embroidery could not rival them
in their wonderful variety and complexity.[138]
How was such symmetry of design created? Species by the score of tiny
plants called algae and diatoms thrive in hot water, temperatures
ranging from approximately 100° to 170° F. These plants have the
capacity to assimilate silica held in solution, and as their lives are
short they build sinter formations in the same manner as coral reefs are
fashioned. These algae are, therefore, active geological agents in soil
building on a considerable scale.[139] However, the intricate mineral
incrustations and lacy embroidery surrounding the boiling hot springs
and geysers are entirely the product of deposition due to evaporation.
As the party progressed through the hierarchy of basins, Upper, Biscuit,
Midway, and Lower, samples were taken and names given to many thermal
features. They were leaving the Firehole region, but before an exit was
made, or its spell broken, their whole experience was given a proper
evaluation, and the greatest natural history idea of a millennium was
born.
On the evening of September 19, the explorers were encamped at the
junction of the Firehole and Gibbon rivers. The setting was an
impressive one. A majestic mountain backdrop cast long shadows upon
them. The silvery Madison glided away in the foreground. On center
stage, red embers of a neglected fire sparked and glowed in contact with
a fanning breeze.
The last scene was being enacted—the curtain was about to fall. It was
an hour of recapitulation. Thrills were relived, confidences exchanged,
speculations indulged. Then came the inevitable question of
Yellowstone’s destiny. The question was posed, “Men and brethren, what
shall we do?” “Why,” said Smith, “we’ll fence it in; give me Old
Faithful.” “I’ll take the Falls,” echoed another. Serious consideration
was given the idea of allowing each explorer to pre-empt a choice
section in the most strategic location and pool the income for equal
distribution. Whereupon, the inspired mind of Cornelius Hedges proposed
and explained an idea that marked him as one of the far-sighted men of
his generation. Said he:
There ought to be no private ownership of any portion of this region.
Rather the whole of it should be set apart as a great National Park
for all time as a reserve for the use and enjoyment of all the people.
Furthermore, each and everyone of us should make every effort to have
this purpose accomplished.[140]
The response was instantaneous and all but unanimous. The next day
Langford wrote in his diary, “I lay awake half of last night thinking
about it;—and if my wakefulness deprived my bed-fellow [Hedges] of any
sleep, he has only himself and his disturbing National Park proposition
to answer for it.”[141]
Within a week the _Helena Daily Herald_ had printed the first of a
series of articles on “The Yellowstone Expedition.” Washburn, Langford,
Hedges, and Trumbull wrote separate accounts, all of which were in
general agreement that they had seen “the most interesting country ...
where are presented at once the wonders of Iceland, Italy, and South
America.”
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Part of Washburn-Langford-Doane party in camp.]
The members were banqueted and feted; specimens of petrifaction,
geyserite, and other strange items were displayed. Langford gave a
“Grand Lecture” to open the Helena Library Association Lecture Course.
Hedges paid glowing tribute to the memory of Truman C. Everts, thought
to be deceased. Indeed, his disappearance did as much as anything else
to capture the public interest. Still anxious to do everything possible
in his behalf, a searching party was immediately organized and sent off.
On October 15, Jack Baronett and George A. Pritchett, two well-known
scouts, came upon the prostrate Everts. It was his thirty-seventh day of
travail. They found him near the northern boundary of the Park, near a
mountain now bearing his name. The day was raw and gusty. Against the
prospect of an overcast sky he carried a firebrand in his seared hands.
His weight was halved; his whole system was terribly out of order.
Actually he was sinking under the conviction that death was near.
According to his own report rescue came in the nick of time:
Groping along the side of the hill, I became suddenly sensible of a
sharp reflection, as of burnished steel. Looking up, through
half-closed eyes, two rough but kindly faces met my gaze.
“Are you Mr. Everts?”
“Yes. All that is left of him.”
“We have come for you.”
“Who sent you?”
“Judge Lawrence and other friends.”
“God bless him, and them, and you! I am saved!”[142]
Everts fell helpless into the strong arms of his preservers. They
carried him to a trapper’s cabin, and there he rested after swallowing a
pint of bear grease. In time his recovery was complete, and he lived to
the ripe age of eighty-five. During these years he experienced much
satisfaction over the contribution he had made in the discovery of
Yellowstone, even at the high price of “Thirty Seven Days of Peril.”
Chapter IX
CREATION OF YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK
The return of Everts operated as a springboard for an attempt to get
government action. Graphic accounts of the exploration in general filled
the columns of the _Helena Herald_ during October. An article written by
Cornelius Hedges, which appeared in the issue of November 9, suggested
an extension of Montana’s southern boundary to include the whole
Yellowstone region. He also outlined the proposal for appropriation of
the same for public purposes. An excited public interest consumed every
issue. Bursting upon national attention, these highly entertaining
narratives, spontaneous and vivid like tales from Arabian Nights,
carried a large measure of conviction.
Nathaniel P. Langford went east to proclaim the discovery. He first
announced the good news to his own people in a public meeting in
Minneapolis. They gave him a responsive hearing, which encouraged him
for the work ahead.[143] On January 19, 1871, a large crowd listened
intently to his delineation at Lincoln Hall in New York City. The people
of Washington accorded similar attention. In fact, one of the lectures
was presided over by Senator James G. Blaine, and one of the most alert
auditors was Dr. Ferdinand V. Hayden who was soon converted to the
importance of the project and agreed to conduct a government geological
survey the following summer. Hayden’s leadership was an important factor
in making Yellowstone a live political issue. Sam Hauser also visited
Washington, D. C., and he was subsequently joined by Truman C. Everts.
Henry D. Washburn started for the national Capitol, but he fell ill on
the way and died at his former home in Clinton, Indiana, on January 26,
1871. Walter Trumbull was serving as clerk of the Senate Judiciary
Committee, of which his father was chairman. Interesting accounts of
Yellowstone’s features by Langford and Trumbull appeared in the May and
June numbers of _Scribner’s_ and the _Overland Monthly_. The Firehole
campfire resolution was bearing fruit.
[Illustration: _Dr. Ferdinand V. Hayden_]
Montana’s new but able territorial representative, Hon. William H.
Clagett, went assiduously to work upon the members of Congress. In his
view there was a great prize to be secured for the benefit of all people
and especially his constituents. A wonderland was available for the
taking. As yet there were no complications of private ownership to
arrest an alert government’s purpose. The Congress responded with
alacrity by making provision for an official exploration. The sundry
civil service act of March 3, 1871, carried an item of $40,000 for the
construction of the Hayden Survey, to complete “the season’s work about
the sources of the Missouri and Yellowstone Rivers.” In fact, the bill
also provided for a reconnaissance of the upper Yellowstone under
Captain J. W. Barlow and Captain D. P. Heap of the Army Engineer Corps.
Congress was not entering into the problem halfway; it was actually
doubling up.[144]
The chief officer, Dr. Ferdinand V. Hayden, was an unusually capable
geologist. In addition, he possessed an inspiring personality and
statesmanlike views. There were nineteen scientists directly under his
command. The personnel included James Stevenson, managing director;
Henry W. Elliott and Thomas Moran, artists; Professor Cyrus Thomas,
agricultural statistician and entomologist; Anton Schonborn, chief
topographer; William H. Jackson, photographer; George B. Dixon,
assistant photographer; J. W. Beaman, meteorologist; Professor G. N.
Allen, botanist; Robert Adams, Jr., assistant botanist; Dr. A. C. Peale,
mineralogist; Dr. C. S. Trunbull, physician; Campbell Carrington, in
charge of zoological collections; William B. Logan, secretary; F. J.
Huse; Chester M. Dawes, son of Representative Henry L. Dawes of
Massachusetts; C. De V. Hegley and J. W. Duncan, assistants. Barlow’s
army detail also had a competent and well-balanced personnel.[145]
A military escort, including Lieutenant Doane, rounded out these
expeditions and provided all that could have been desired in point of
training and ability. Each detachment had a retinue of helpers. Two
technical studies and scientific reports, which not only substantiated
but actually enhanced the findings of the previous civilian
explorations, resulted from these two expeditions.
Hayden’s party left Fort Ellis, near Bozeman, on July 15, 1871. Upon
reaching the junction of the Yellowstone and Gardner rivers they elected
to ascend the latter. It was a good choice because within the hour they
beheld a white mountain which resembled a vast cascade of frozen snow.
The Mammoth Hot Springs Terraces “alone surpassed all the descriptions
which had been given by former travelers.”[146]
As this expedition progressed, the geological record was interpreted.
Thereafter, rocks were identified as travertine, gneiss, rhyolite,
dacite, basalt, breccia, geyserite, sinter, and obsidian. Trees and
plants were likewise classified, and in addition to geysers, springs and
pools there were fumaroles and _solfataras_. Geological speculations
were formulated relative to petrified forests, Grand Canyon, the lake’s
former Snake River outlet, and the relationship of heat, water, and
“plumbing” essential for geyser action.
[Illustration: _The Hayden expedition in camp_]
Henry Elliott and Campbell Carrington launched a canvas boat and made a
survey of Yellowstone Lake’s hundred-mile shoreline. Later the
temperatures of over six hundred hot springs were taken. Sketches were
made of many features, and significant names were given, such as
Architectural Fountain Geyser. Captain Barlow’s division paid particular
attention to the mapping of Snake River’s headwaters. It also made a
cursory survey of the Lamar River. Unfortunately most of the data and
accompanying photographs were destroyed in the great Chicago fire. This
delayed Barlow’s official report until six weeks after the Park Bill was
enacted. However, an interesting summary appeared in the _Chicago
Journal_ for January 13, 1872. Thus, the report and collection of
specimens and photographs by Dr. Hayden represented the principal result
of the season’s endeavor.[147]
The beauty of Jackson’s photographs and Moran’s paintings could scarcely
be denied. Each represented the work of a master. Dr. Hayden’s report to
Secretary of Interior, Columbus Delano, was received in February, 1872.
He also contributed feature articles to the _American Journal of Science
and Arts_ and _Scribner’s_. Thus, a number of authorities had taken up
the national park cause without reservation. Indeed, after he became
intrigued with the idea of government development, Dr. Hayden’s efforts
were so impressive that many people regarded him as the true originator
of the movement. In fact, his own enthusiasm unfortunately caused him to
make pretensions for which he was severely criticized by his colleagues
in the effort.[148] Although Dr. Hayden’s contribution was invaluable,
it was not exclusive. It was through the combined effort of the entire
Montana delegation, and its powerful friends, that Congress was made
receptive and responsive.
On December 18, 1871, a bill to create Yellowstone National Park was
introduced simultaneously in both houses of Congress. The direct
sponsors were Delegate William H. Clagett of Montana and Senator Samuel
C. Pomeroy of Kansas. A thorough canvass was made; photographs,
specimens, and testimonials did heavy duty in both the Senate and the
House. Four hundred copies of _Scribner’s_ containing Langford’s
articles were distributed among the congressmen, and all were personally
interviewed. The advocates were few, but effective, and there was never
any doubt as to the outcome. In the Senate, Pomeroy’s efforts were
backed by George F. Edmunds, H. B. Anthony, and Lyman Trumbull. They
made an unsuccessful attempt to bring the bill, S392, to a vote on
January 22 and 23, but objections were raised, and it came up in
calendar order on the thirtieth. Senator Edmunds appealed for unanimous
support for the bill. Senators Cameron of Pennsylvania and Morton of
Indiana were curious about the number of square miles in the proposed
reservation. Senator Pomeroy assured them that, although it was a large
tract, there were no arable lands therein because of the elevation.
The advocates were puzzled by the opposition exhibited by Senator
Cornelius Cole of California. He entertained grave doubts as to the
value of the bill. Settlers should not be excluded from such a large
area. As to the natural curiosities, they would remain. Edmunds replied
that the region was north of 40° and about seven thousand feet
elevation. Pomeroy affirmed that:
... the only object of the bill is to take early possession of it by
the United States, and set it apart, so that it cannot be included in
any claims or occupied by any settlers.[149]
Opposition was removed from the discussion by the forceful and tactful
speech made by Senator Trumbull. He reviewed the history of Yosemite and
the Big Trees in California:
I think our experience with the wonderful natural curiosity, if I may
so call it, in the Senator’s own State, should admonish us of the
propriety of passing such a bill as this.... Here is a region of
country away up in the Rocky Mountains, where there are the most
wonderful geysers on the face of the earth.... It is possible that
some person may go there and plant himself right across the only path
that leads to these wonders, and charge every man that passes along
... the gorges of these mountains a fee of a dollar or five
dollars....
I think it is a very proper bill to pass, and now is the time to enact
it.... Now, before there is any dispute as to this wonderful country,
I hope we shall except it from the general disposition of the public
lands, and reserve it to the Government.... At some future time, if we
desire to do so, we can repeal this law, if it is in anybody’s way;
but now I think it a very appropriate bill to pass.[150]
The matter was then presented for a vote, and it passed without a call
for the ayes and noes.
The progress of the Park Bill, H.R. 764, through the House was just as
sure, if not so speedy, as in the Senate. On February 27 Chairman Mark
H. Dunnell of the Public Lands Committee brought out a favorable report.
He personally was convinced by careful investigation that the bill
should pass. Henry L. Dawes clearly and forcibly explained its purpose
and observed that it went a step further than the Yosemite precedent. In
this case “the title will still remain in the United States.... This
bill treads upon no rights of the settler ... and it receives the urgent
and ardent support of the legislature of that Territory [Montana], and
of the Delegate himself....”[151]
The roll call on February 28, 1872, showed 115 ayes, 65 noes, and 60 not
voting. George W. Morgan, the minority leader, was opposed to the bill
on partisan principles in general and his personal dislike for Secretary
Delano in particular. Within ten weeks the measure had passed both
houses by large majorities, and on March 1, 1872, it received the
signature of President Ulysses S. Grant.
Upon passage of the act the _Helena Herald_ printed a laudatory
editorial on “Our National Park,” while the Helena _Rocky Mountain
Gazette_ considered the bill “as a great blow struck at the prosperity
of the towns of Bozeman and Virginia City ... if it were thrown open to
a curious but comfort-loving public.” Other local papers joined the
_Herald’s_ side of the controversy.[152]
A mild national reaction was generally favorable to the reservation
idea. The bill even attracted attention abroad, as evidenced by an
article in the _London Times_, April 10, 1873, under the caption, “A
Very National Park.”
Who should receive the credit for this eminent accomplishment? A careful
examination of the facts warrants the conclusion that the idea of
establishing Yellowstone as a public reservation had a dual birth. It
was independently conceived in the minds of two men. This view is
attested by the deliberate statement of N. P. Langford:
It is true that Professor Hayden joined with Mr. Clagett and myself in
working for the passage of the act of dedication, but no person can
divide with Cornelius Hedges and David E. Folsom the honor of
originating the idea of creating the Yellowstone Park.[153]
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
President Ulysses S. Grant signing the Yellowstone National Park
Bill.]
In his _Westward America_, Howard R. Driggs states that the pioneer
artist, George Catlin, made a similar observation about other parts of
the Old West in the eighteen thirties. Surely it was Hedges’ suggestion
at Madison Junction campfire that initiated the conception of a program
which other men were well conditioned to execute. N. P. Langford was the
enthusiast, the zealous crusader. William H. Clagett was the man at the
helm, but he was ably supported by the sage advice of Henry L. Dawes,
representative from Massachusetts, who probably formulated the general
principles of the measure.[154] Dr. F. V. Hayden’s scientific reports
and unstinted support must be weighed heavily in the scale. Senators
Samuel C. Pomeroy and Lyman Trumbull gave strength to the movement. The
good will of General Phil Sheridan was a constant factor. Beyond this
spearhead of ability and integrity the number of contributors broadens.
It was an altogether democratic effort, and little injustice results
from the omission of other efforts toward the cause. Most of them would
probably have had it so. It was a program for the benefit and enjoyment
of all people, rather than the personal aggrandizement of a few.
The rapidity that characterized the government’s action in this matter
will always stand as a tribute to the common sense and natural idealism
of the Forty-second Congress. Judge Hedges’ idea had found ready
acceptance as it journeyed along the legislative course. The “Dedicatory
Act,” as it is now called, was a remarkably well-drawn bill, especially
when it is remembered that the issues involved were not only new in
America but to the entire world. It was a pioneer measure in the field
of conserving natural phenomena for recreational and spiritual
appreciation. John Muir has cogently expressed the significance of the
endeavor:
Fortunately, almost as soon as it—the Yellowstone region—was
discovered it was dedicated and set apart for the benefit of the
people, a piece of legislation that shines benignly amid the common
dust-and-ashes history of the public domain.[155]
The philosophy in the statement of the purpose was both unique and
basic. The reservation was “dedicated and set apart as a public park or
pleasuring ground for the benefit and enjoyment of the people.”
Conservation was keynoted in “the preservation from injury or spoliation
of all timber, mineral deposits, natural curiosities or wonders within
said park and for retention in their natural condition.” There was a
declaration against “the wanton destruction of fish and game—and the
capture or destruction for the purpose of merchandise or profit.”
Senators Anthony and Tipton wanted to strike out the last phrase so
there would be no destruction of game for any purpose. Anthony said, “We
do not want sportsmen going over there with their guns,” and Mr. Tipton,
“... if the door is once opened I fear there will ultimately be an
entire destruction of all the game in the Park.”[156] Within a score of
years their fears were fully vindicated, and their wishes realized in
the passage of a Protective Act on May 7, 1894.
Altogether, the Yellowstone National Park bill represents a
comprehensive glance into the principle of use without abuse. Nature was
to be preserved, protected, and not improved. Art could not embellish
what God had wrought in Yellowstone. The Act of Dedication became the
touchstone of a national conservation policy whose blessings are legion.
The bill did not carry an appropriation. It appears that the program was
to be implemented entirely by voluntary service. In the years that
followed there was a noble devotion which burned brightly, then waned,
and almost died before resuscitation came. Eventually Yellowstone
administrative experience evolved a program of surpassing merit which
served as an example for the whole nation in the matter of managing
certain phases of natural resources.
Chapter X
THE LAST ROUNDUP
Before Yellowstone could become accessible as a national playground a
certain evolution of security had to take place. Indian tribes and
buffalo herds were hindrances to both colonization and travel. A
double-action roundup was needed to clear the way for an ephemeral
phase, known as cattle days on the open range, and ultimate colonization
within the approaches of the Park.
The early clash of white trappers and Indians has been reviewed. Passing
of time worked no respite. Indeed, occasional friction swelled into
almost constant strife. As settlers multiplied, the accumulation of past
mutual grievances and suspicions rolled in from other scenes of combat
like a moving tide and then broke into smaller waves, backwashing among
the Rockies.[157] What was regarded as the natives’ overbearing
superiority was well matched by similar attitudes among the whites, but
more important was the latter’s greater strength.
Racial antagonisms and cultural conflicts swept every tribe into the
whirlpool. Each in turn wrecked itself against the might of federal
power. Finally, a crimson trail was stretched toward Yellowstone when
Nez Percé Joseph chose to make it a part of his escape route.[158] The
Park area and its environs was by way of becoming the Indians’ last
refuge. Therefore, the destiny of Yellowstone itself was contingent upon
a solution of the Indian problem. Few people have the hardihood to seek
pleasure at their peril, and that was precisely the condition until
1880. Only through complete Indian submission was the security issue
brought to rest. How the events unfolded in this conflict between the
settlers and the natives is a tale worth telling. Perhaps a brief
exploration of the mutual opinions of disrespect will help give one a
more balanced judgment of the factors that marshaled the two races into
almost perpetual strife. It is an appropriate setting for the wind-up
Indian scene, as narrated in the chapter on Chief Joseph’s flight and
surrender.
In the outset, English colonial charters granted belts of land to
companies, or proprietors, without reference to Indian occupation.
Still, a native people was found almost everywhere, but these savages
were generally interested only in what might be had for the taking,
whether from nature’s bounty or an enemy tribe. Here was a land with
resources for the sustenance of a thousand times their number. White men
were given a generous reception at first. Indians generally displayed an
Arabian type of hospitality and enjoyed showing homage to important
visitors.
However, it became increasingly apparent that white and red men had
little in common. The former were quick to recognize the Indians’
simplicity and to exploit it. If judged by civilized standards, they
were a people living as children, naïve and simple. They roamed about
seeking game and plunder. Something to eat, a shred of clothing, a
partial shelter, and a touch of adornment sufficed. They would exchange
much corn, meat, beaver, and deerskins for a handful of beads, an iron
hatchet, knife, ax, awl, or—best of all—fire water. Articles of real
value were first given cheaply for items of scarcely any value at all.
Mere curiosity led them into many commercial pitfalls. Ross, the trader,
said, “Our people might have loaded a seventy-five-gun ship with
provisions bought with buttons and rings.”[159]
In the opinion of the Indians, palefaces were weaklings under torture.
Still, white folks possessed strong medicine capable of moving great
boats upon water without paddles. They also set great store upon
boundaries on land and upon scratches on paper, which they said meant
the same thing yesterday, today, and forever, and when a chief touched
the quill to make his mark at the end of a writing it might bring
trouble for years to come. Of course, the whites then said it was a
treaty of cession by which the tribe had agreed to move the Indian
village away and leave the settlers alone. These strange white people
had a passion for killing trees continually, for making more tobacco
than they could smoke, and for sending most of it away in their ships.
White men were always working, mostly at tasks fit only for squaws, and
they were fond of getting other white men and black men, and even trying
to get red men, to work for them. Palefaces rarely moved their houses or
changed their wives, and they would eat little more in harvest, or after
a kill, than at any other time. Their restraints and their lack of
restraint were equally unaccountable; and their numbers were ever
swelling and their demands ever continuing for more and more land. They
were, in truth, unfriendly neighbors, unwilling to blend the colony with
the tribe; but they were firm, and on occasion impolite, in living their
own lives and crowding the red men out. This brought battle now and then
and a few blond scalps to dangle, but in war, too, the whites were
unreasonable. They would not wait for Indian summer to do battle, and
when once they took the path they were not content with raids, ambushes,
and surprise attacks, but they would persist in a campaign under staunch
command long after sensible, spasmodic Indian folk had grown weary.[160]
Thus, we may fancy, thought the Algonquins, Iroquois, Mohicans,
Tuscaroras, and the Cherokees, the more sedentary eastern tribes early
to experience the white man’s aggression. At length they concluded that
their first welcome had been unwise and wrecked themselves in efforts to
drive the invaders out, but even in this purpose the tribes could not
unite. Alliances reluctantly made between them were carelessly broken in
the hour of peril. There is record of few confederations of Indian
tribes that acted with any degree of unity. The ordinary tribal
relationships were hostile. Indeed, every Indian tribe had at least one
implacable enemy. As Chief Little Plume once said, “As long as there
remains a Crow and a Piegan, so long will there be war.”[161] Even in
their campaigns with the white men they were inconstant and uncertain
and quite as much the victims of treachery and double dealing as they
were perpetrators of such offenses.
In what light was the Indian held by the white settlers of America? It
has already been noted that Europe’s Christian sovereigns and their
governors disregarded the Indians’ tribal ownership. They were
primitive, pagan, and of ill repute. Human beings they were, perhaps,
but with a hazy past, precarious present, and reckless future. If they
could be converted to Christianity, well and good. That blessing would
adequately compensate for the loss of their hunting grounds. Salvation
in heaven was far better than savagery on earth.
Hence, we learn that the Pilgrim Fathers first “fell upon their knees
and then upon the aborigines.” Roger Williams, William Penn, Zebulon
Pike, John C. Calhoun, and Brigham Young raised dissenting views, but
theirs were as voices crying in the wilderness. Other more self-seeking
councils prevailed. Many were the voices raised in condemnation.
General Phil Sheridan, in his oft-quoted comment, said, “There is no
good Indian but a dead Indian.... If a white man steals, we put him in
prison; if an Indian steals, we give him a blanket. If a white man
kills, we hang him; if an Indian kills, we give him a horse to put the
blanket on.”[162]
Another characterization from a Montana frontiersman goes, “An Indian’s
heart is never good until he is hungry and cold.”
Jim Stuart, than whom no man had more occasion to harshly judge Indians
about Yellowstone, made the following observation:
“Arro-Ka-Kee” or The Big Rogue [eminently appropriate, that name],
stood six and a half feet high in his moccasins and weighed two
hundred and seventy-five pounds. He was accompanied by “Saw-a-bee
Win-an,” who was a good Indian, although not dead, which I note as an
exception to the general rule.[163]
The Earl of Dunraven professed to express the Sportsman’s viewpoint when
he said that Buffalo Bill and Texas Jack had the same feeling for
Indians that they entertained toward game. That is to say, “They love
them, and they slay them.”
To the typical frontiersman, the Indian was a savage, ready to pounce on
careless settlers, scalp them, burn their homes, and carry off their
loved ones—in short, a “varmint.” To the romantic writers, the Indians
were children of nature, dwellers in shady forests and peaceful plains,
earth’s true nobility! Of course, the romantic writers seldom saw the
natives and never lived with them. These errors, and many others, have
been accepted as first-hand accurate observations. Indeed, the whole
American Indian policy has been called a tragedy of errors, beginning
with the naming of the race “Indian.”[164]
Given this background of Indian ways, what might reasonably have been
expected in the way of biracial adjustment? So little was the question
of Indian welfare considered before 1880 that one cannot yet determine
just what course might have solved the problem and brought about
successful assimilation. First the English, and then the Americans, just
muddled along, bribing here, cajoling there, and ultimately forcing
everywhere, until this once proud and militant race was reduced to an
inconsolable remnant, broken, defeated, and forlorn, but not forsaken.
Even when the white man’s heart was good toward his red brother there
was conflict in policies. Some thought his only salvation was in the
adoption of agriculture and stock raising, but such a program was
ruinous to the fur traders. The natives were the sinews of that
business. The contrast in economy and culture, rival claims to land, and
mutual feelings of superiority presented a gulf too vast for peaceful
desires to overcome. It was the realization of this fact that impelled
the wise Alexander Ross to say, “Peace in reality was beyond our power;
it was but an empty name.”[165] White men’s activities and aggressions,
under whatever guise, progressively deranged the Indians’ economy. From
every frontier came incessant demands for the reduction of Indian lands.
Memorials to Congress, complaints to Indian commissioners, blistering
editorials in local newspapers, all mark a stage in frontier
development. Settlers were intolerant of checks upon their expansion,
and few, indeed, were the officials who had the temerity to “arrest the
tide of empire in the Territories.”
Against this ominous force the Indians could only writhe and twist. The
uneven contest waged for two and a half centuries, extending from
Jamestown to the Pequot War and from Tippecanoe to Custer’s defeat in
the battle of the Little Bighorn in 1876. It is a tale of red fury and
white vengeance such as might properly appertain to an age of barbarism
but which presents an incongruous picture in a Christian land. It is
correct to say that Indian-American relations were never improved but
always embittered until the natives were reduced to the point of
decimation.
Actually, the activities of fur trappers were not bitterly resented by
the natives. Notwithstanding their excessive exploitation of the game
there were compensations. A measure of accommodation resulted, which
does not imply that there was any lack of violence. Theft, rivalry, and
sheer joy of conflict were motives always operating. But there was a
community of interest existing between the trapper and Indian which was
impossible between the settler and Indian. Primitive existence was based
upon tribal land and native game; both of these methods were denied by
white settlers. Two types of economy were in conflict, and the red man’s
sun was already beginning to set. The clash is brought into clear relief
in the story of the buffalo.
The bison is America’s largest game animal, and for centuries it was
most plentiful. Native to both plains and mountains it was a truly
monarchial beast. A Spanish conquistador, Cabeza de Vaca, left an
account of his observation upon the Texas plains in 1532: “The cows came
from the north, and are found all over the land for over four hundred
leagues.”[166]
Several years later Coronado’s report stated that they “had seen nothing
but cows and sky.” Ample supporting evidence sustains the fact that the
number was legion. In 1832, Captain Bonneville stated, “As far as the
eye could reach the country seemed absolutely blackened by innumerable
herds.” No census was ever taken, but competent authority suggests that
sixty million head was a conservative estimate for the American plains
in the early nineteenth century. Dependable calculations place the
number persisting until 1870 at one fourth that number. At the end of
the century the species was on the verge of extinction.
How did this remarkable diminution transpire? Here, indeed, is a roundup
of mammoth proportions and far-reaching consequences. Bison were the
natives’ base of life, their tribal grubstake, a divine heritage. Only
by wise conservation of this wild animal wealth were they enabled to
maintain such a free and easy life.
After the Civil War railroads were projected into the buffalo country.
Construction camps employed professional hunters to provide fresh meat.
William F. Cody held a contract for the Union Pacific. It was this
circumstance that gave him the name “Buffalo Bill.” Such hunters set
amazing records for a day’s slaughter. Wasteful as this practice was,
much greater prodigality emanated from the camps of certain foreign and
American sportsmen and celebrities. Russian grand dukes, English lords,
German counts, and American “no-a-counts” were alike in their insatiable
instinct of destruction.[167] In way of extenuation it is fair to state
that the emotional strain of bison chasing was overpowering.
However, it was the railroad itself that dealt the deadliest blow. Bison
robes were too bulky to be handled by pack train, and only marginal
profits accrued to wagon masters, but the effect of the iron horse was
revolutionary. During the early seventies several lines conducted
hunting excursions at low rates, guaranteeing shots from the windows.
These facilities, supplemented by horse-and-wagon outfits, made the
conquest of buffalo easy, especially when a definite profit was in view.
That condition developed when the tanneries discovered bison hides could
be used in leather wear. Thereafter, hides sold from $1.00 to $4.00
each, and a party of six hunters could kill and skin fifty or more in a
day. In 1873, the Santa Fe alone carried 754,529 hides to eastern
markets.[168] The traffic in buffalo hides grew and prospered and
finally degenerated into debauching butchery.
[Illustration: Courtesy Union Pacific Ry.
_The iron horse in Buffalo country—an early Wyoming scene_]
Thus, for a score of years, hundreds of expert riflemen combed the
plains. They were armed with heavy Sharps and Winchester rifles, which
boomed relentlessly at the ponderous bellowing herds. They took away the
hides, brains, and tongues, leaving the rest to waste. It was wanton
business written in crimson carcasses that dissolved into whitened
bones. The railroad, therefore, destroyed frontier isolation and
quickened the process of transforming a wilderness into a settled
community. This increase in the tempo of frontier life was most apparent
in the solution of the Indian problem.
As the great train, piled high with hides, rumbled away its
reverberations were echoed by a more ominous rumble in the disconsolate
camps of the red men. This was the final aggression, the ultimate
grievance, and it set the people’s teeth on edge. This inexorable white
advance broke the natives’ hearts. Once again, it was demonstrated that
Indians and white men could not live together. It meant the annihilation
of their way of life—their very existence—and a tragic fate—starvation.
Why did the government wink at this great imposition? Because after the
railroad came colonization was imminent, but land overrun by wild
Indians and buffalo could not be occupied. The herds had to be greatly
diminished and the Indians, confined. The destruction of the bison was
the most expedient means of bringing a recalcitrant race into
subjection.[169] The nomads cagily rejected federal treaties until the
bison commissary was destroyed. Then it was either fight or surrender.
Several tribes elected to fight, to try to drive the white man back
across the Missouri River. How much chance did they have in this belated
effort? Indians were able warriors. They were slow to project, cautious
to proceed, and firm to execute. Always cunning in strategy and subtle
in ambush, they were certain to surprise.[170] An awareness of their
limited numbers made them expert in decoy tactics and careful of their
lives. Vigilant and watchful, they waited patiently for the advantage in
time. They were quick and precise in estimating the strength of an
enemy. Their code did not require a fight on equal terms. Indians, as a
class, never equaled white men in the use of the rifle; however, they
soon learned to improve the interval between firing and reloading.
Extremely superstitious, they carried certain charms about their
persons, the efficacy of which was never doubted. Thus protected, they
charged fearlessly into an affray. Too, youth was considered the proper
time to die, and young men sometimes sought death, lending an air of
fanaticism to the attacks.
Red men were greatly exhilarated by victory. They would vault and yell
in fiendish glee as they flourished the gory scalps of their victims. By
1850, however, the destiny of Indian folk was established. Thereafter,
their cries seldom bore the shrill staccato notes of victory but rather
the mournful wail of defeat.
The legend of “Big Foot,” great chief of the Flathead tribe, had been
fulfilled. In 1804 he is supposed to have assembled his warriors in
council and related this message:
My heart tells me that the Great Spirit has forsaken us; he has
furnished our enemies with his thunder to destroy us, yet something
whispers to me, that we may fly to the mountains and avoid a fate,
which, if we remain here, is inevitable. The lips of our women are
white with dread, there are no smiles on the lips of our children. Our
joyous sports are no more, glad tales are gone from the evening fires
of our lodges. I see no face but is sad, silent, and thoughtful;
nothing meets my ears but wild lamentations for departed heroes.
Arise, let us fly to the mountains, let us seek their deepest recesses
where unknown to our destroyers, we may hunt the deer and bighorn, and
bring gladness back to the hearts of our wives and our children![171]
Flight of the Indians to the mountains delayed, but did not preclude,
the final conquest of their domain. They were only reserved for the last
roundup. Eventually each tribe was brought to its respective day of
reckoning. The government’s policy was not always crystal clear. It
fluctuated between the extremes of the “Quaker Peace Policy” and “Fire
and the Sword Practice.” However, the goal was the same; “blanket”
Indians were to become “farmers,” live in fixed abodes, and “walk the
white man’s road.”[172]
After the Civil War the execution of this business was taken in hand by
resolute fighting men. Hence, the military spirit was hardened toward
the red men. Inexorably the race was pressed toward the appointed end.
This work was accomplished by a series of military actions during the
sixties and seventies.
In eastern Idaho Colonel Patrick Connor wrought swift vengeance on the
Bannock nation in 1863. More than two hundred Indians were killed, a
loss which forever broke down their force and effectiveness. This tribe
was guilty of many depredations against migrants, miners, and Mormon
settlers. Its forlorn remnants were assigned to the Fort Hall
Reservation.
The plains tribes went on the war path in 1864. Colonel Chivington’s
command surprised and almost annihilated a peaceful band of Arapahos and
Cheyennes in the Sand Creek massacre. What Chivington neglected General
Custer completed four years later in the destruction of Black Kettle’s
village. In frontier parlance there was always battle when the Indians
were killed and a massacre when the whites were the victims.[173]
In 1871 Generals Sherman and Sheridan projected a plan that eventuated
in the complete conquest of the Kiowa and Comanche nations, but the
Sioux were the most formidable obstacle to the colonization of Wyoming
and Montana. They stood immovable astride the country lying between the
headwaters of the Powder and Yellowstone rivers. This was the heart of
the Sioux country—their last and favorite retreat. There, grass grew
lush, and cool, sweet streams teemed with trout. Wild berries
flourished, and a hunter could take his pick of buffalo, bear, elk,
deer, antelope, and sheep. The great Sioux Chieftains, Red Cloud and
Crazy Horse, together with Sitting Bull, the medicine man, protested
bitterly in 1864 when John Bozeman, John Jacobs, and others began
traveling across these lands.[174]
Federal ultimatums to assemble upon designated reservations were spurned
by the Sioux, and a campaign of coercion was invoked with Brigadier
Generals Alfred H. Terry and George Crook on far-flung phalanx and
Colonel George A. Custer as the spearhead of the advance. Whether
through reckless bravery, error of judgment, or necessity, Custer rushed
into a treacherous situation, and his entire command (265 men) was
annihilated. The day was June 25, 1876; the place, Little Bighorn River.
It was a red letter event in the history of the Sioux, but it was a
fleeting victory because the military, ably led by Colonel Nelson A.
Miles, persisted in the campaign, and within a few months the mighty
Sioux were either upon their appointed reservations or in exile. One of
the last scenes in this solemn drama was enacted in June, 1881, at Miles
City, Montana. Sixteen hundred Sioux, formerly under the leadership of
Chief Rain-in-the-Face, were loaded on government steamboats for the
Standing Rock Reservation in Dakota. Deep mourning issued from their
camp on Tongue River:
For two days and nights the Indians, and more especially the squaws,
kept up their dismal howlings on taking farewell of their beloved
homes and hunting grounds.[175]
[Illustration: Courtesy Union Pacific Ry.
_Strong medicine against the Indians_]
As the buffalo and Indian went out, the Texas longhorn and “long drive”
came in. The long drive lay across the tablelands of western Texas into
Kansas, crossed the Santa Fe Trail at Dodge City, passed over the
headwaters of the Salmon and across the Republican, and reached the
South Platte at Ogallala. From this camp it followed the Oregon Trail to
Fort Laramie, and then veered north over the Bozeman road.[176] The
Texas Longhorn rolled up from the Southwest like a tidal wave once the
way was opened. In fact, wild “speckled cattle” had been sharing part of
the Texas plains for generations. Now, cattle raising became the great
bonanza for a period.
The American cattle industry started back in 1521 when seven calves of
Andalusian breed landed in Mexico. Gregorio was the pioneer ranchman on
the continent. His flocks literally covered “a thousand hills.” In spite
of his vaquero’s diligence, some of his stock strayed and formed the
nucleus of a mighty herd.[177] From buffalo to range cattle is not a
wide step; it was the capacity of the winter range to carry bison that
suggested the cattle industry.
Conditions for stock raising were ideal in Texas. Millions of acres were
plush carpeted with grama, mesquite, buffalo, and bluestem grasses.
Early settlers gathered this wild stock into princely domains, and a new
industry was born. The greatest problem was getting the cattle to
market. New Orleans, Mobile, and Cuba were reached from Shreveport by
boat. Still, there were the thriving northern cities where prices
doubled those in Texas.
The first authenticated northern drive came in 1846 when Edward Piper
drove one thousand Texas steers to Ohio. By 1865 Texas boasted
one-eighth of all the cattle in America, as against a local population
of less than half a million people. Somehow these cattle had to be
gotten to market.
Returning Confederate veterans, broke but adventurous, saw the challenge
of the open range and seized it. Loose, wild stock and “mavericks” were
soon in the clutches of men and mustangs as wild as they. The first
cowboys to make the long drive had need to be tough. There were many
hazards menacing their way—non-treaty Indians, white thieves, floods,
cyclones, and ever threatening stampedes. Sometimes the distance between
water was more than a day’s travel.
Cattle kings were men of great energy and enterprise. They took big
risks, sometimes winning large profits and occasionally losing just as
handsomely. Chisum, Hittson, Kennedy, O’Connor, and King were charmed
names in the cattle fraternity. They nurtured their stock on
hundred-thousand-acre ranches and then sent them forth to forage upon
the public domain. It is estimated that six million head grazed their
way to market over the Chisholm, Great Western, Shawnee, and other
trails.
This wealth of the cloven hoof was entrusted to young athletes equally
adept in forking a hoss, shooting a gun, and hurling a lariat. Cowboys
were capable of both long, patient application to duty and vigorous
relaxation when opportunity afforded. As a class they were steady and
dependable. They delivered their charges in good condition at such
shipping points as Sedalia, Abilene, Wichita, Ogallala, Glendive, and
Miles City. This migration of cowmen and their herds was a strong,
tremendous movement. It came with a rush and a surge, and in ten years
it had subsided.
Even as the iron horse gave birth to the long drive, just so surely did
it eventually destroy the big cattle business itself. Homesteaders came
with the advance in transportation. There was a gradual, but
irresistible, invasion of the open range. The “nesters” enclosed public
domains. Thus, as the Indian gave way before the soldier and the hunter,
so the cowboy yielded to the farmer. Ranches soon absorbed the eight
million acres formerly overrun by bison and cattle.
There were still several regions ideally suited for stock
raising—Montana, Wyoming, and Idaho. Toward these remote areas men
looking for new, free grassland, timber, and water headed their cattle.
The quest led them into the several great valley approaches to the
Yellowstone Plateau. On both slopes of the great divide plants and grass
grow steadily during summer, and the dry atmosphere cures and ripens
them as they mature. This type of feed is highly nutritious and
conducive to the development or perfection of form and strength of bone
and muscle.
Among the pioneer ranchmen of the Rockies was Nelson Story. He netted
more than ten thousand dollars in the placer mines of Alder Gulch. This
sum he invested in a thousand Texas longhorns in 1866. With twenty-seven
trail-hardened cowboys he brought the cattle to Montana. It was a
tremendous undertaking to get them through a veritable gauntlet of
hostile Indians and desperate white thieves. Three of his men were
killed before they reached the end of Bozeman Trail.[178] Gold dust in
exchange for beef proved more profitable than taking it from the placers
themselves. Even the poorest ox would bring a hundred dollars, and so
the traffic increased.
At this time the able Sioux chief, Red Cloud, served notice upon the
government that he would kill every white man who traveled along that
trail. It was not an idle boast; the record shows nearly two hundred
casualties in the last six months of 1866. In fact, the Bozeman Trail
became one long battleground, scene of such Sioux victories as the
Fetterman and Wagon Box massacres. However, the military persisted, and
with constant operations stemming from Forts Kearney and Smith the trail
was kept open.[179]
In 1870 more than 40,000 Texas cattle reached Wyoming, Montana, and
Idaho. Six years later the mountain Indians were largely liquidated. The
removal of Red Cloud, Crazy Horse, and Sitting Bull opened the way for
new cattle commonwealths. By 1880 the federal census reported 428,279
head in Montana and 521,213, in Wyoming. Soon the stockmen evolved a
considerable network of mountain trails. The main artery went up the
Yellowstone to Fort Custer and thence into Wyoming via Forts McKinney,
Reno, and Fetterman to Cheyenne for shipping.
New names entered the stage with the growth of the cattle business such
as Granville Stuart, James Fergus, A. J. Davis, John Ming, John Grant,
Conrad Kohrs, R. S. Ford, Ancenny, Poindexter, Iliff, Flowerree, and
George Searight.[180] Then there were the famous companies, The Union
Cattle Company, The Swan Land and Cattle Company, North American, Powder
River, Prairie, and Horseshoe being among the major names. Professor Dan
E. Clark states that twenty Wyoming companies were organized in 1883,
with individual capitalization from ten thousand to three million and a
combined value of twelve million dollars.[181] In Montana, though, the
Stock Growers Association represented an ownership of half a million
head of cattle in 1884. The Eastern Montana Stock Growers Association of
the same state claimed a capital investment of thirty-five million
dollars.[182]
Under the impetus of such flourishing activity, the great river valleys
stemming out of the Yellowstone Plateau were soon dotted by ranches.
Wind, Snake, Madison, Gallatin, and Yellowstone valleys each received
its quota. None of them quite reached the Park land, but Frederick
Bottler’s range almost impinged upon the northern border. It is probable
that rancher invasion of the actual Park area was minor, if there was
any. However, there was a rustler element that quite assuredly knew part
of Yellowstone country.
The decade overlapping the sixties and seventies was the twilight period
in frontier history. A transition was progressing from semi-lawlessness
to orderly government. The arrogant Henry Plummer and his wicked gang of
Innocents were liquidated by Montana Vigilantes in 1864, but another
nefarious activity was taking heavy toll from the cattlemen. Horse and
cattle rustlers found a lucrative business in preying upon the large
herds grazing the open range. These cunning men would establish a
rendezvous in some sequestered place like Teton Basin or the upper
Madison Valley. From such a position they would make forays upon the
stock owned by the big interests. The worst offenders, and those most
difficult to apprehend, were men who at some time had been connected
with the cattle business. Sometimes they altered the brands, but often a
crisscross plan of shipment was followed; that is, Wyoming and Montana
stock was whisked down to the Utah market; while Idaho material went
east to Cheyenne. Men such as “Teton” Jackson, Ed Harrington, and Bob
Tarter worked both sides of the Divide. The high meadows in and near
Yellowstone were ideal for their purpose. It is also claimed that the
notorious Butch Cassidy gang, long ensconced upon the Green River, made
occasional forays among stock ranging near the southeastern borders of
the Park.
It is a fact that the Washburn-Langford-Doane party encountered
representatives of the rustler element upon their last day in the Park
area. Mr. Langford left this account:
Mr. Hauser and Mr. Stickney all through the day were a few miles in
advance of the rest of the party, and just below the mouth of the
canyon they met two men who manifested some alarm at the sight of
them. They had a supply of provisions packed on riding saddles and
were walking beside their horses. Mr. Hauser told them that they would
meet a large party up the canyon, but we did not see them, and they
evidently cached themselves as we went by. The Upper Madison in this
vicinity is said to be a rendezvous for horse thieves.[183]
It was actually an area of operation for the Murphy and Edmonson gang of
desperadoes. Langford and Doane came upon three of their horses which
they caught and pressed into service during the rest of the
journey.[184] In 1874 the Earl of Dunraven remarked that the Yellowstone
traveler had to keep a sharper lookout for white horse thieves than for
redskin robbers.
By 1873 stock losses by rustling were so great as to force counter
measures. The Wyoming Stock Growers Association hired a large force of
detectives and inspectors. The movements of every newcomer were watched
with suspicious vigilance; blacklists were circulated. The penalties for
mis-branding and marking were doubled, and prosecution was swift and
vigorous. These hard-hitting policies soon brought the problem under
control.
Thus ended the major evil of another era, and the rustlers were hustled
into that Shangri-la of frontier romance where “happy ghosts,” as
Professor Paxson has said, “will endure forever, a happy heritage for
the American mind.”[185]
By 1880 the hostile human barriers, red and white, had been removed from
the way. The West’s unsettled areas were so broken as to destroy the
frontier line. Yellowstone was still a wilderness, but it was accessible
to man.
Chapter XI
CHIEF JOSEPH’S TRAIL OF BLOOD
The Nez Percé Indians were first encountered in 1805 by the Lewis and
Clark Expedition. They were at home in the region of eastern Oregon and
western Idaho. The Wallowa Valley, “land of winding water,” was their
especial habitat. They referred to themselves as “Nim-i-pu,” “the real
people.” The name Nez Percé or “pierced noses” was a French cognomen of
doubtful validity.
The Nez Percé were not highly centralized in tribal organization. There
were several factions, but in the third quarter of the 19th century,
Tu-eka-kas, or Old Joseph, as the Reverend Henry H. Spaulding called
him, was a ranking chief. The Nez Percé befriended the Lewis and Clark
party by taking care of their horses. Thenceforth their policy was one
of cooperation and friendship with the white man, combined with a stern
insistence upon their rights. Joseph hoped for biracial adjustment. To
this end he always befriended the government, but it was understood that
his domain should never be invaded.
Federal Indian treaties made after 1855 brought white settlers ever
closer to the Nez Percé domain. Certain unprincipled Oregon people
looked greedily upon the choice lands of Wallowa. As the pressure
increased there was neither political will nor honor to curb the
aggressors. Hence, the noble Nez Percé, like all red men before them,
were thrown on the defensive.
Old Joseph sensed the impending issue, and before his death in 1871 he
exacted a promise from his son, Young Joseph, that he would never give
up Wallowa.[186] Years of increasing pressure brought a full vindication
of Old Joseph’s fears and a realization of responsibility to his son.
By 1876 the federal government was yielding to local demands for Nez
Percé evacuation, and a commission brought in the usual report. The
non-treaty Indians had no standing and should be made to conform. They
should be required to join the other tribes on the Lapwai Reservation.
General O. O. Howard was directed to enforce the decree. The Nez Percé
were greatly distressed. Several conferences were held. Young Joseph
resisted manfully. By this time he was in his thirty-seventh year. Fully
mature, he stood six feet tall, and his rugged body disclosed tremendous
energy and sinew. His mind was keen, but his spirit was disciplined. He
was ready for his work.
The military authority gave Chief Joseph thirty days to get his people
on the reservation; June 14, 1877 was the deadline.[187] In vain Joseph
pleaded for an extension of time until fall. Orders had been given by
the military. Joseph also gave orders. His people gathered in their
stock and prepared for the migration; it was better for deer to be
penned up than to fight the grizzly. There were many soldiers at
Howard’s back; the odds were too great. They must surely obey or perish.
Other Nez Percé leaders were not so wise. Chiefs Tu-hul-hul-sote and
White Bird wanted to fight. They were chiefs in their own right and had
large followings. Still, Joseph was willing to sacrifice honor and
prestige by resisting war.[188] He valued his people’s blood above his
own pride. While the great man humbly revealed his integrity, trouble
brewed in darker minds.
[Illustration: Courtesy of Haynes, Inc.
Chief Joseph, war chief of the Nez Percé.]
An old man in White Bird’s band was taunting young Wal-ait-its, whose
father, Eagle Blanket, had been slain by a white settler in 1876. “You
are brave! Why don’t you go and show it by killing the man who killed
your father?” The goad fired him to a fever of revenge. He and two
companions sprang upon their horses. When they returned to the council,
four white men had answered the last call. Wal-ait-its shouted, “Why do
you sit here like women? The war has begun already.” Tu-hul-hul-sote had
organized a war party. Joseph still hoped for a peaceful settlement. It
could not be. The war fever spread, and Indian blood was on fire. He
must either lead or step aside. He chose to defend his people and their
cause.[189]
On the morning of June 17 a battle took place in White Bird’s Canyon.
Captain Perry, assisted by Lieutenants Theller and Parnell, was
approaching with two troops of cavalry. Joseph had taken command. He
quickly conceived of a daring triple-action assault. With instinctive
judgment he chose strategic positions and gave brisk orders. He moved
among his men, encouraging them, and directing them from place to place.
He seemed an all-pervading, dominating force. He deployed his braves
upon the heights. Protected by rocks and brush, they threaded a bobbing
course upon the beleaguered cavalry. Dismounting and aiming
deliberately, they decimated the ranks of soldiery.[190]
White Bird Canyon stands next to the Custer and Fetterman massacres as
the Waterloo of white troops before Indians, but the conditions were in
no way identical. The advantages were equally balanced at White Bird.
Young Joseph had proved himself a great war chief in a single
engagement. From this time forth his destiny was with him. He was the
last mighty Indian, and his name was Hin-mut-too-yah-lat-kekht, meaning
“Thunder strikes out of water and travels to loftier heights.” Wherever
one touches him he is great; every incident and circumstance discloses a
big man. He exercised unerring judgment in strategy and tactics. Years
afterward Joseph said, “The Great Spirit puts it into the heart of man
to know how to defend himself.”
The defeat of Perry threw General Howard’s command into a frenzy of
activity. Orders went out for reinforcements, and troops moved toward
Lewiston from every direction. By the last of June, Howard was in the
field. The wily Indian leader had moved his entire nation beyond the
raging Salmon River where he made a stand. Said Howard, “A safer
position was unchoosable, nor one more puzzling and obstructive.”[191]
Howard’s soldiers experienced great difficulty in going where Joseph’s
whole band had gone. This was just the prelude to a game of hide and
seek that lasted from late June to early October and lengthened into a
dozen engagements as the two forces moved eastward for the space of
sixteen hundred miles.
In the weeks that followed, General Howard learned to respect his adroit
and formidable foe. Joseph’s forces never exceeded three hundred
warriors. The whole band numbered about seven hundred. General Howard’s
command numbered five hundred and eighty regulars, and it was later
augmented by four separate commands in the course of the pursuit. The
forces of Joseph and Howard came to grips on the banks of Clearwater
River. There the Nez Percé fought with such courage and precision that
the battle must be written up as a draw.[192]
Joseph was now ready to fight to a finish, but his captains voted for a
retreat. Again he bowed to the will of the majority. They were destined
to pursue a “trail of tears” during the next three months. It was a
march as dramatic as the “flight of a Tartar tribe.”[193] The band was
on the move, over the Lolo Trail—a terrific route. They lived on the
country—roots, berries, and game.
Joseph could cope with one enemy, but the military resources of the
whole Western Department baffled him. He found his exit from the Bitter
Roots obstructed by Captain Charles C. Rawn from Fort Missoula. Rawn
demanded surrender; Joseph parleyed until his forces outflanked Rawn’s
position and escaped. At this juncture we see his humanity in making a
treaty of forbearance with the settlers in Bitter Root Valley.
The entire Nez Percé tribe was overtaken and attacked at daybreak, on
the Big Hole, by General John Gibbon’s force of one hundred and eighty
soldiers, augmented by some of the erstwhile peaceful settlers. The
slaughter on both sides was: whites, twenty-nine killed, forty wounded;
Indians, eighty-three dead, wounded undetermined (fifty-three of the
dead were women and children).[194] Joseph commented bitterly, “The Nez
Percé never make war on women and children.” Notwithstanding the
confusion of this surprise attack, Joseph’s band recovered and moved on.
Howard was still on their trail.
Several Salmon City, Idaho, freighters fell before the drunken wrath of
some of Joseph’s braves on Birch Creek. In Camas Meadows Howard
maneuvered for a stand. The result was the loss of many mules and
horses. Worse still was the mortal wounding of three soldiers and
serious injury of five others. Just as Howard was expecting to pounce
upon his prey, the crafty chief whirled around and inflicted a
surprising blow, escaping almost scot free.
[Illustration: A general map of Chief Joseph’s flight.]
Several days later the Nez Percé were trailing up the Madison River
within the Park. They were strangers in Yellowstone and the most
unwelcome tourists it has ever known. Within this identical week
Secretary of War William T. Sherman and an escort of five concluded a
tour and left for Fort Ellis. They did not see “any signs of Indians,
and felt at no moment more sense of danger than we do here.”[195] A few
days later they were cognizant of their lucky break. Near Madison
Junction the Nez Percé met a prospector named Shively whom they pressed
into service as a guide. A few days later they seized another miner
named Irwin, and held him for a while.
The Radersburg Tourists
The Nez Percé spent the night of August 23 in camp on the banks of the
Firehole River, above the narrows. At daybreak the next morning several
Indians appeared in the camp of some tourists from Radersburg, Montana.
The personnel of this party were Mr. and Mrs. George F. Cowan; Mrs.
Cowan’s brother and sister, Frank and Ida Carpenter; Charles Mann;
William Dingee; Albert Oldham; A. J. Arnold; and Henry Myers. A
prospector, named Harmon, was also associated with the Cowan party at
this time.
These people were just preparing to break up the “home” camp located at
this terminus of the wagon road. For the past week they had been
enjoying themselves on horseback visits to the geyser basins, and
several of them had been to the lake and canyon.
Dingee asked the Indians, “What are you?” “Snake Injun,” one replied.
Later they admitted they were Nez Percé and made a demand for coffee and
bacon. Cowan refused to give them any, and as one who called himself
“Charley” attempted to give a signal the stern Cowan peremptorily
ordered him to “keep hands down!” Right there a special resentment was
engendered toward the “older man.” Frank Carpenter asked them if any
harm was in store for the party. The spokesman said, “Don’t know, maybe
so.” He gave them to understand that since the Big Hole Battle the Nez
Percé were double-minded toward the white man.[196]
The worried little party held a hasty consultation, and in view of their
limited arms and ammunition they decided, with serious misgivings, to
make an appeal to the chiefs for their deliverance.
They, therefore, hooked up the team, saddled their horses, and joined
the Indian caravan, which turned eastward and journeyed up Nez Percé
Creek. After proceeding a couple of miles the wagon was abandoned, its
contents rifled, and the spokes knocked out for whip handles. By midday
the Radersburg case had come to the attention of the chiefs. A council
was held at the base of Mary Mountain in which it was decided that the
tourists were to be liberated. Poker Joe spoke for the chiefs:
Some of our people knew Mrs. Cowan and her sister at Spokane House.
The soldiers killed many Nez Percé women and children on the Big Hole.
But we do not hurt Montana people. You may go. Take old horses and do
not spy.[197]
They were relieved of their saddles, guns, and horses, worn-out animals
being substituted for the latter. The white men nodded acceptance of
these extraordinary terms. They were glad to part with the tribe and
retrace their course. Within a half hour, two of the white men, Arnold
and Dingee, abandoned their horses and ducked into the forest. Hidden
Indian scouts were obviously expecting just such behavior. A few minutes
later seventy-five braves swooped upon Cowan’s party, demanding the
missing members. Cowan could only plead ignorance. Whereupon, Charley
said, “You will have to come back.” The little band again turned
eastward with leaden spirits.
Angry Indians were milling around on all sides, each waiting for the
other to start an attack. Suddenly Um-till-lilp-cown, one of the three
Idaho murderers, fired at Cowan, hitting him in the thigh.[198] At the
same time Oldham felt a twinge on both checks as a bullet passed through
his face. Carpenter saw an Indian aiming at him, and thinking some of
the Nez Percé might be Catholics he made the sign of the cross. His act
may have disconcerted the warrior for he did not fire. Oldham managed to
get away through a thicket, while Cowan was so stunned he fell to the
earth. His wife jumped down from her horse and clasped him to her bosom,
but they dragged her away. Another shot, from close range, struck him in
the forehead. His wounds were considered fatal, and he was left to die.
At this juncture Poker Joe arrived from the chiefs, who had got word of
the attack, and he stopped the onslaught.
In the shuffle and commotion that ensued, Myers, Harmon, and Mann made
their getaway. Mann felt a bullet whiz through his hat as he ran among
the trees. Each man went in a different direction and carried the
impression that he was the sole survivor. This was the opinion of each
of the separated contingents. Each considered all missing ones as
obviously dead.
The unscattered survivors, including Mrs. Cowan, her brother Frank, and
sister Ida, were again taken captives. Although their treatment during
the next twenty-four hours was considerate, it was a period of great
mental anguish for them. They spent the night by Chief Joseph’s
campfire, and considering the circumstances their attitude toward him
was most interesting. Mrs. Cowan said of him:
My brother tried to converse with Chief Joseph, but without avail. The
Chief sat by the fire, sombre and silent, foreseeing in his gloomy
meditations possibly the unhappy ending of his campaign. The “noble
red man” we read of was more nearly impersonated in this Indian than
in any I have ever met. Grave and dignified, he looked a chief.[199]
[Illustration: Radersburg tourist party marker.]
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
George F. Cowan stands up to Nez Percé warriors.]
On the evening of the twenty-fifth the captives were provided with two
horses and released near the Mud Volcano. “They must not go too fast”;
therefore no saddle for Ida or horse for Frank were provided. Poker Joe
directed them to go down the river “quick.” This they did as rapidly as
their broken-down ponies would carry them. Burdened with grief and care,
they made their way over Mount Washburn and beyond Tower Falls where
they came upon a detail of soldiers who supplied their most urgent
necessities and found them a ride to Bozeman.
In going down Yellowstone Valley they were the recipients of much
sympathy from the settlers. As they entered Bozeman, Lieutenant Doane
and a considerable number of Crow Indian scouts and soldiers were
leaving for the Park. Carpenter joined Doane’s command, with the
intention of returning to the scene of the attack and attending to the
burial of his brother-in-law. In mourning, Mrs. Cowan and her sister
continued on to Radersburg.
But Cowan was a sturdy being; he would not die. It was nearly sundown
when he regained consciousness. Wounded in thigh and head, he yet pulled
himself up from his rocky “grave.” Unfortunately an Indian sentinel
observed his movement, drew a bead, and fired. Cowan dropped with a
fresh wound in his left side. He now felt that they had “fixed” him
beyond all hope of recovery. However, he remained conscious and lay
motionless until darkness settled.
Then he started a crawling retreat toward Lower Geyser Basin, nine miles
away.[200] What an eternity August 24 must have seemed! Were his wife
and friends safe? He had little basis for hoping so. Could he make a
getaway, and was it worth the effort? About midnight he apprehended
motion among the cinquefoil. It was an Indian scout, raised to elbow
posture, listening. Cowan remained perfectly quiet until the watchman
relaxed; then he circled the danger zone by more than a mile. Onward he
dragged his tortured body, alternately resting and crawling. He finally
reached the deserted wagon where his bird dog faithfully waited. She
growled and menaced until recognition dawned, then hovered over him like
a protecting mother. There was no food anywhere to be found, but he
gathered up the sheets of Carpenter’s diary. Cowan pressed doggedly on
toward the campground in the Lower Geyser Basin. During the third day a
band of Indians came by his hiding place. They were friendly Bannocks of
Howard’s command, but he did not know and took no chance.
On the twenty-seventh he reached the old camp, found matches, and
gathered spilled coffee grains and an empty can. These netted him a cup
of coffee. He passed the night there. The following day he crawled over
by the road, and that effort taxed his strength to the limit. It was
enough, as relief came in the form of two of Howard’s scouts, Captain S.
G. Fisher and J. W. Redington. The latter said, “Who in hell are you?”
“I’m George Cowan of Radersburg.”
“You don’t say! We’ve come to bury you.”
They rendered first aid, provided food, and left Cowan by a roaring fire
with the assurance that the main force would gather him up within two
days. Mr. Fee has deftly described the abrupt termination of that hard
earned felicity:
Cowan ate enough to keep himself alive and lay down in silent joy to
sleep the night through. Towards morning he was awakened by awful
heat, and found to his dismay that the vegetable mold he was lying on
had taken fire and encircled him with flames. He rose on hands and
knees and suffering terribly, crawled across the charred area to
safety. His hands and legs were badly burned.[201]
In the meantime his scattered companions were being united. Mr. Harmon
was the first to reach General Howard’s encampment at Henrys Lake.
Arnold and Dingee arrived after several days and nights of hardship.
Myers and Oldham were encountered by Howard’s scouts. The latter was in
a pitiful state. His tongue was so swollen, as a result of his wound,
that he could not speak. Shock and exposure to the cold nights, together
with lack of food for four days, had left its mark upon them all.
Howard reluctantly took the whole delegation along, and on August 29
they joined Cowan in the Lower Geyser Basin. Arnold said Cowan was a
“most pitiful looking object. He was covered with blood, which had dried
on him, and he was as black as a negro.” Here Cowan learned of his
wife’s safety, and that news, together with his friend Arnold’s
“unremitting attentions,” pulled him through. The army surgeon
ministered to the physical wounds of the men but no sympathy was
forthcoming. The Radersburg men desired to return home by way of Henrys
Lake, but they were bundled along with the command, over roads that
were:
simply horrible and almost impassable for wagons. At times we were
compelled to lower them over precipices with ropes, and again we would
hitch a rope to a wagon and pull it up the hill by man power.[202]
In the meantime Frank Carpenter, along with Lieutenant Doane’s command,
pressed toward the Park. They found Henderson’s ranch buildings in
flames. A band of renegade Nez Percé were spreading terror in their
wake. Camp was established there anyway, and a courier arrived,
directing Lieutenant Doane to mark time until joined by Colonel Charles
C. Gilbert and the Seventh Infantry. Carpenter’s plan to return and bury
Cowan was again frustrated. A promise to perform that function, given by
a frontiersman named Houston induced Carpenter to return to Bozeman.
There he learned that all members of the party were safe and accounted
for except Cowan. The news that Cowan was still alive reached him a few
days later when he met the two scouts who had found Cowan just a week
before. Perhaps no one else could have convinced him his friend was
alive.
[Illustration: M. D. Beal
Detail map showing Nez Percé movements in Yellowstone Park.]
Legend:
- - - - - - Route of main band of Nez Percé Indians.
x x x x x x Route of marauding band to the north and
back to main band.
X Cowan party camp west of Fountain Geyser.
1 Nez Percé camp in lower Geyser Basin.
2 Where Cowan party was attacked and Cowan
shot.
3 Mary Lake and Mary Mountain.
4 Nez Percé camp and crossing of Yellowstone
River near Mud Volcano.
5 Helena party camp on Otter Creek where
Indians attacked.
6 Mammoth Hot Springs.
7 Baronett’s Bridge across Yellowstone River.
A telegram to Mrs. Cowan brought her posthaste from Radersburg. She
reached Bottler’s ranch, a distance of one hundred and seventy-five
miles, in thirty-one hours. The reunion was effected on September 24,
exactly one month from the date of the attack.
The Helena Tourist Party
Other Yellowstone visitors were caught in the Nez Percé net as it rolled
across the Park. It has been sufficiently indicated that Chief Joseph
maintained a role of dignified restraint, but there were unprincipled
factions under less responsible leadership which he could not keep under
his thumb. While the main tribe was slowly weaving its course through
the Park some of the reckless young men were foraging far and wide. It
is also correct to observe that bitter resentment had been smoldering
toward the entire white race since the battle of Big Hole. The Nez Percé
were inclined to regard every white man as an enemy.
This Indian psychology, or “bad heart,” helps account for the conduct of
a marauding band of White Bird’s “bucks” toward a party of Helena
tourists north of Hayden Valley. There were ten men in this company: A.
J. Weikert, Richard Dietrich, Frederick Pfister, Joseph Roberts, Charles
Kenck, Jack Stewart, August Foller, Leslie Wilkie, L. Duncan, and a
negro cook named Benjamin Stone.
On the morning of August 25 this party was traveling along between
Sulphur Mountain and Mud Volcano when they observed a body of horsemen
fording the river. They correctly apprehended that the mounted men were
hostile Nez Percé.[203] Thereupon, the tourists hastily repaired to the
timber near the forks of Otter Creek and formed camp. It was a
well-chosen position and might have been defended effectively if the
natural advantages had been utilized.
However, no harm came to them that day or night. The next morning
Weikert and Wilkie went reconnoitering in the vicinity of Alum Creek
where they encountered a detail of the marauders. The white men
retreated speedily, but Weikert was hit in the shoulder in the exchange
of fire.
In the meantime the camp on Otter Creek was raided. Instead of posting a
lookout the campers were huddled together, waiting for dinner, and
hoping they would continue to escape notice. Mr. Kenck’s mind was active
with forebodings; addressing the elderly colored cook, he said, “Stone,
what would you do if the Indians should jump us?” Stone laconically
replied, “You all take care ob yoursel’ and I’ll take care ob me.”[204]
In that instant the Nez Percé struck. The eight tourists scattered like
surprised deer. Kenck was hit and killed; Stewart was shot, fell, and
was overtaken. He pleaded so earnestly for his life that he charmed
their savage impulse and was spared. Dietrich fell in the creek and
remained there four hours.
Ben Stone ran as fast as his old legs would carry him, but in midstream
they gave out, and he lay prone in the water. The red men left as
suddenly as they came. When Wilkie and Weikert arrived they fell in with
some of the others and started for Mammoth. Joseph Roberts and August
Foller had slipped away, and as it later transpired they went west to
Madison River and thence to Virginia City and home. The other seven
reached Mammoth, where Dietrich and Stone unfortunately decided to
remain pending the arrival of Roberts and Foller. Dietrich had promised
young Roberts’ mother that he would be responsible for his safe return.
On August 31, Weikert and McCartney, the “hotel” owner, left for the
Otter Creek campground to look for the two missing men and to inter the
remains of Mr. Kenck. The latter business accomplished, they were
returning when the renegades, who had just committed a fresh deed of
vengeance at Mammoth, met them at the falls of East Gardner River. A
lively skirmish ensued, in which Weikert’s horse was killed and the
others got away, before a sheltered position was reached. The
desperadoes withdrew, and the white men pursued a cautious course to
Mammoth. It was in this stage of their journey when McCartney, observing
that Weikert was pale as a ghost, asked, “Do I look pale?” “No,” replied
his friend, “Do I?” McCartney answered, “No.” Each was trying hard to
“buck up” the other’s morale.[205]
Upon reaching Mammoth they learned about Dietrich’s fate. On August 31
he and Stone saw a band of Indians pass McCartney’s place. They were Nez
Percé on their way to Henderson’s ranch which they ransacked and burned.
The next day, when they returned, Ben Stone made a precipitous exit from
the cabin and ran up Clematis Gulch. Dietrich, evidently believing the
Indians friendly, stood in the doorway. They shot and killed him.
Several days before he had expressed a premonition of death to Weikert.
In view of this condition his conduct was attributed to inexperience.
Ben Stone, it will be remembered, was the colored cook who had a narrow
call in the Otter Creek melee. This second escapade was even a closer
shave. Stone evidently possessed sufficient of the quaint humor
characteristic of his race to warrant the perpetuation of an amusing
frontier tale.
Following is the story, as related by Stone to the men at Henderson’s
ranch, before he had fully recovered from his scare. The account begins
at the end, wherein the negro was challenged by a sentry as he
approached the camp:
“‘Halt, who comes dar?’ ‘Ben Stone.’ ‘Come in, Ben Stone.’ An’ you bet I
come a-runnin’.” Then he rehearsed the day’s activities in this wise:
“I seed de Injuns comin’ aroun’ in de foah-noon dis mornin’. I tole
Dietrich we had better be a gettin’ out ob dis, but he kept a sayin’
‘I’ll neber go back to Mrs. Roberts widout Joe.’ ’Bout ’leven or
twelve o’clock Dietrich says, ‘I’ll go down an’ change de hosses,
re-picket dem, while you git dinnah, Ben.’ ‘I say “all right.”
“Well, while he was gone a changin’ ob de hosses, I looked out ob de
doah an’ seed a Injun stick his head up ober a rock out in front ob de
house. I didn’t wait for no lebe, I didn’t, an’ dropped eberyting an’
bolted trew de back doah, I did, up into de timbah an’ laid down
awaitin’ for somethin’ to do next. I seed de Injuns all ’bout de house
an’ pears like dey was mighty anxious to fine me, but I wasen’t
anxious to fine dem. It war gettin’ along towards night, and I clim a
tree. Purty soon a big Injun rode right down under de tree a searchin’
aroun’ for me. I jes hel’ my bref an’ say to myself, ‘Oh Mr. Injun;
good Mr. Injun, don’t look up dis way!’ Boys, I ’clare to goodness I
could hab touched dat Injun’s head wif my foot—but I didn’t!
“Bye’m-bye de Injun go away down towards de springs an’ I got down on
to de ground an’ strike for de side ob de mountain whar I laid down. I
was a layin’ in de brush, when all ob a sudden I heerd a crackin’ in
de brush. Den, boys, I got right down on my knees an’ prayed (an’ I
hope de God Almighty forgive me, I neber prayed before sense I lef’ my
modder’s knee), but I jes got down an’ say ‘O Lod God A’mighty, jes
help me out ob dis scrape an’ I will neber interfere wid you no moah!’
I heerd dis noise an’ a crashin’ in de bushes again, an’ I jes laid
down wid my face to de ground an’ I spected to feel de tom hawk in de
back of my head. All ob a sudden I turned ober and dar I seed a big
black bar a lookin’ at me. Boys, I neber was so glad to see a bar
afore in all my life. De bar he got up an’ run, an’ I got up an’ run
to de top ob de mountain when I saw youah camp fire an’ heah I’
is—bress de Lod!”[206]
At the conclusion of this delineation two of Lieutenant Doane’s friendly
Indian scouts rushed toward Stone with arms extended, exclaiming “How,
how!” The distraught negro nearly fainted from a fresh attack of fright.
No amount of explanation could convince him they were not after his
scalp. Indeed, he was certain that the larger buck was Chief Joseph
himself![207]
Finally his friends Weikert and McCartney arrived, and thereafter his
emotions switched around to unrestrained gratitude to his maker. The
rest of the night was given over to lusty expressions of praise and
hallelujahs. When objections were raised Stone replied that God had
saved his life twice and he was going to thank Him as long and loud as
he liked. Lieutenant Doane was forced to post a guard to maintain the
peace.
At this time word arrived that Roberts and Foller were in Virginia City.
The remains of poor Dietrich, who had been sacrificed so unnecessarily,
were taken to Helena by Weikert. He also took the remains of Charles
Kenck there for final interment.
General Howard leisurely pursued the fleeing Nez Percé marauders up the
Lamar Valley after repairing Baronett’s bridge which they had partially
burned. In the meantime, Joseph’s main band had crossed Yellowstone
River, near Mud Volcano, and followed the east bank toward the lake.
Shively, their captive guide, directed them up Pelican Creek to its
source. Here Joseph’s scouts reported the presence of miners on the
Lamar and Howard’s spies in the area. The scouts further noted that
Colonel Sturgis and eight troops of the Seventh Cavalry from the Crow
Agency on the Little Rosebud were in position astride the regular
Absaroka Pass near Hart (Heart) Mountain. Joseph was now cut off between
the commands of Howard and Sturgis.
This situation demanded desperate action. The threat of interception
brought forth a masterful stratagem from the Red Napoleon. Upon reaching
the Lamar-Shoshone Divide, Joseph turned abruptly southward. Was he
striking for Stinking Water? Sturgis could not risk this chance. He,
therefore, whirled in that direction, pursuing a parallel course—the
summit dividing their forces.
Joseph’s feint worked; he passed by Sturgis’ right flank. He now doubled
back beyond the main Absaroka gateway, toward Clarks Fork, and plunged
through a “hidden” pass located by his feverish scouts. He fairly hurled
his people over the rocky barrier and dropped them pell-mell down to
Clarks Fork.[208] It was his task to get the protection of the Crow
Indians, cross the Buffalo country, and reach Canada and safety.
By the time Colonel Sturgis had discovered the deception General Howard
arrived. Indeed, he was already painfully pursuing the elusive foe
through the awful earth gash Joseph had taken. When the two officers met
there was an impressive demonstration of cussing. Wasn’t there a unit in
the whole United States’ Army that could outwit this red devil?
Spurred by the barbed goad of frustration and anger, Sturgis pressed on
in hot pursuit. On September 13, his troops were in their saddles at 5
A.M. When they drew rein at 12 P.M. sixty miles had been negotiated.
Joseph’s band was still ahead! By daybreak the soldiers were on the
trail again. They halted on the lower Yellowstone, near Billings.
Discouragement pervaded their ranks; by common consent the Seventh
Cavalry was ready to quit.[209] They felt a comrade’s compassion for
General Howard’s command.
Two miles away the Nez Percé were headed for the mouth of Canyon Creek.
“Let’s beat ’em to it,” and away they sped. The Indians gained the
protection first. Officers Benteen, Otis, French, and Merrill’s
battalions maneuvered bravely and well, but the watchful Nez Percé kept
them back. There was rapid sharp shooting on both sides. When they
finally broke through the Indians had disappeared.
Strewn upon the dusty battlefield were a dozen dead horses, five
soldiers dead and eleven wounded. Night fell, and a cool wind drummed
a funeral dirge upon the mind of many a restless soldier. When General
Howard arrived the next day Sturgis was still on the trail. A band of
Crow Indians had joined the white forces and were spoiling for a
fight, but Sturgis had already wind-broken his horse and run out of
rations. The Indian pace was too fast for him, but the rapidity of
this flight forced them to abandon nine hundred horses.[210] However,
Chief Joseph’s pony supply was augmented by a wholesale seizure from
the Crows. He had crossed the Musselshell; next he would ford the
Missouri which would bring them within the protection of Montana’s
northern wastelands. Canada was not far away. Howard could never catch
him now. Perhaps there would be time to kill some buffalo, feed their
weary ponies, and rest their squaws.
He was reckoning without the telegraph and the ambitious interest of
Colonel Nelson A. Miles at Fort Keogh on Tongue River. On September 17,
a rider brought Howard’s S. O. S.; immediately Colonel Miles was all
action. That very day he had three hundred and eighty-three men across
Tongue River and on the march. Twenty-four hours later they were fifty
miles away. They crossed the Musselshell River and marched on to the
Missouri, where a steamboat ferried them across. Ever crowding men and
beasts, he caught up with the Nez Percé on the twenty-ninth of
September.
Joseph had made sure that Howard and Sturgis were far behind. In fact,
they were deliberately slow. “We must not move too fast lest we flush
the game.” Actually both of their commands were much depleted. The real
job was up to Miles; they were providing the decoy. This time it worked.
Again, as at Big Hole, Joseph failed to anticipate trouble from other
quarters than Howard’s. The one-armed general was six days’ march in the
rear. Surely they could relax now. Upon reaching the Bear Paw Mountains
he considered his position secure. He posted no scouts. Joseph obviously
believed they had crossed the international boundary. Later, as he
looked back in retrospection, he said:
I sat down in a fat and beautiful country. I had won my freedom and
the freedom of my people. There were many empty places in the lodges
and the council, but we were in a land where we would not be forced to
live in a place we did not want. I believed that if I could remain
safe at a distance and talk straight to the men that would be sent by
the Great Father, I could get back to the Wallowa Valley and remain in
peace. That is why I did not allow my young men to kill and destroy
the white settlers after I began to fight. I wanted to leave a clean
trail, and if there were dead soldiers on that trail, I could not be
to blame. I had sent out runners to Sitting Bull to tell him that
another band of red men had been forced to run from the soldiers of
the Great Father, and to propose that we join forces if we were
attacked. My people were recovering their health and the wounded
getting better of their hurts.[211]
Joseph’s coveted felicity was roughly arrested on the dawn of September
30. His brief respite was assailed by the dual forces of nature and men.
Snow flurries whipped the lodge flaps. Horses milled restlessly. An
Indian youth slipped out to reconnoiter. He perceived the rapid approach
of a formidable force of cavalry. The alarm was given.
Instantly the Nez Percé camp was churning with commotion. A hundred
ponies were laden with squaws and papooses. They fled north under an
escort of sixty braves. The balance of the encampment fairly clawed out
positions of defense along a crescent-shaped ravine called Snake Creek.
By this time the military was in position. Colonel Miles sized up the
situation at a glance and barked commands: “Captain Hale, draw up on the
south flank.” “McHugh, mount the Hotchkiss and wheel forward.”
“Infantry, deploy and follow cavalry charge; swing the four-pound
howitzer to north.” “Troops of Second Cavalry, surround enemy pony
herd.” “Lieutenant McClernand, retrieve the fleeing train.” “Main
cavalry, ready for frontal assault.” He surveyed the resulting
formation, raised his arm, and shouted, “Attack!”[212]
Reins were loosed, spurs clicked, and away rolled a thundering avalanche
of mounted might. The charging line raced headlong toward the Indian
camp. It was the same speed and precision that had broken the power of
the Sioux and Cheyenne nations. The Nez Percé grimly waited. At a
hundred yards they opened fire, and the battle broke with a roar.
In the wake of the charge were fifty-three soldiers dead or wounded. K
Troop lost over sixty per cent of their complement. Joseph’s camp was
cut in twain, but the position could not be forced, and the cavalry
passed through. The Nez Percé settled deeper into their entrenchments,
and a state of siege ensued. However, the Colonel’s pony detail
succeeded in rounding up the Indian ponies. The Nez Percé were now on
foot. That night a six-inch mantle of snow fell. Continuous fire was
sustained the next day. Then a parley was arranged. Joseph was promised
a safe conduct. He accepted but was made a prisoner. However, the Nez
Percé captured an officer named Jerome and held him as hostage for
Joseph. Terms were proposed. Miles demanded unconditional surrender, but
Chief Joseph exacted a promise to return his people to the Lapwai
Reservation. This Miles granted.[213]
On October 4, the fifth day of the siege, Joseph led his haggard people
out of their camp. His head was bowed in awful solemnity. As he
approached a cluster of officers, including General Howard, he
straightened up and dismounted with dignity. Impulsively he presented
his rifle to Howard, but the general motioned him to “Bear Coat” Miles.
After disarmament the great chief stepped forward, raised his arm in a
sweeping motion toward the reddening sun, and intoned the requiem of a
dying race:
Tell General Howard that I know his heart. What he told me before I
have in my heart. I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed.
Looking Glass is dead, Tu-hul-hul-sote is dead. The old men are all
dead. It is the young men who now say yes or no. He who led the young
men is dead. It is cold and we have no blankets. The little children
are freezing to death. My people—some of them have run away to the
hills and have no blankets and no food. No one knows where they
are—perhaps freezing to death. I want to have time to look for my
children and see how many of them I can find. Maybe I shall find them
among the dead. Hear me, my chiefs, my heart is sick and sad. From
where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever.[214]
The Montana sun was going down; Hin-mut-too-yah-lat-kekht had spoken as
its rays flickered.
The officers came forward and shook his hand. As he turned away, drawing
his blanket over his head, the white soldiers discerned five bullet
holes in his blanket and wounds on his forehead and wrist.
There was something about this leader that tugged at their heart strings
as he beckoned his children toward their prison camp. There were four
hundred and twelve survivors, including forty-six wounded. Twenty-six
Indians and twenty-seven white men (plus Miles’ two Indian scouts) had
been slain. Joseph’s conduct in burying the dead and in ministering to
his half-starved and freezing people elicited the admiration of all. As
the handsome, plucky chieftain assuaged their sorrow he seemed greater
than any one man. Surely, here was the embodiment of the Nez Percé,
indeed, of all Indian people. In his person were combined elements both
noble and tragic. He was the last best specimen of a truly native race.
By nature Joseph was a modest man and inclined toward peace and good
will. Events forced him into a role that has won eternal fame. Even
General Sherman, who entertained no high sentiments for Indians, could
not withhold his meed of praise:
Thus has terminated one of the most extraordinary Indian wars of which
there is any record. The Indians throughout displayed a courage and
skill that elicited universal praise; they abstained from scalping;
let captive women go free; did not commit indiscriminate murders of
peaceful families and fought with almost scientific skill, using
advance and rear guards, skirmish lines and field fortifications.[215]
Other competent authorities have gone further. One ventured the
asseveration that:
Had Joseph led thousands and had he been born of a people and in a
place less remote from the main currents of history, his name would
resound in our ears like thunder.[216]
As it is, the tale of the Nez Percé retreat, surrender, and burning
years of their exile strike a mournful note upon the ears of men.
At Bear Paw a long “trail of tears” began for Joseph and his people.
There was the solemn trek to Fort Keogh, thence to Bismarck, on to Fort
Leavenworth, and finally to a small Oklahoma reserve. This was virtually
a sentence of death for these mountain-bred people.[217] Miles could not
make his promise good. Joseph was depressed by the increasing time and
distance. Said he, “The Great Spirit Chief who rules above seemed to be
looking some other way and did not see what was happening to my people.”
Many government officials called upon Joseph (“White men have too many
chiefs”). Promises were lightly made (“Look twice at a two-faced man”).
Resolutions were circulated (“Big name often on small legs”). The wise
chief was learning the ways of his masters.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Indian war club and peace pipe.]
Joseph’s conqueror became his truest friend. Miles, a general now, kept
working to fulfill his vow. Said he:
I frequently and persistently, for seven long years, urged that they
be sent home to their own country but not until 1884, when I was in
command of the Department of the Columbia, did I succeed in having
them returned west of the mountains near their own country.[218]
In 1885, after they had been ravaged by sickness and death, the remnant
of the Nez Percé tribe was established on the Colville Reservation in
Washington state. Here Joseph’s declining years were spent in the
companionship of his wives and children, until his death on September
21, 1904. There, among a vast concourse of white and Indian people,
Thunder-Traveling-to-Loftier-Heights was gathered to his fathers.
Chapter XII
TRAVEL AND ACCOMMODATIONS—NEW BUSINESSES
The narration of trapper and miner visits and the account of final
discovery have already described the difficulties of early travel in
Yellowstone. Little segments of animal and Indian trails were all that
broke the untraveled wilderness. Since no funds were available for any
purpose before 1877, the trail building progress made before that date
was negligible.[219] Until that time all visitors came on horseback, but
while they generally went to the same places their approaches were
different. Each outfit carried axes, and at least a modicum of effort
had to be expended along the way. Such had been the way of mountain men.
They did not expect someone else to build their roads; neither did they
expect anyone to tell them where to go or camp. Therefore, it was every
outfit to itself; still, companionship claimed its due, and groups
sometimes fell into line and traveled together.
A perusal of old journals shows that packsaddle trips were always
thrilling. It was by pack horse that the presidential party of August,
1883 visited the Park. It traveled three hundred and fifty miles, making
nineteen camps during its sojourn. The personnel included the following:
President Chester A. Arthur, Secretary of War Robert T. Lincoln, Senator
George Graham Vest, General Phil H. Sheridan, General Anson Stager,
Colonel Michael V. Sheridan, Colonel J. F. Gregory, Captain Philo Clark,
Governor Schuyler Crosby (Montana), Judge Rawlins, and Official
Photographer Frank Jay Haynes.[220] They had a grand time, and
thereafter Yellowstone never lacked friends in high places.
One account tells of traveling three hundred and fifty miles in
twenty-four days. Fish were caught in handfuls, horses caved in geyser
formations, and Indians were seen. All of these activities were duly
reported to a keenly interested American public. Indeed, a general
concern for the President’s security was aroused. This natural anxiety
gave occasion for a rumor that the President’s safety was in jeopardy,
not from accident, wild animals, or Indians, but rather from a gang of
desperadoes. A dispatch bearing the postmark of Hailey, Idaho, stated
that a large band of Texas criminals had been observed in a mysterious
ceremonial at Willow Park in Yellowstone. According to the report, each
man swore by his dagger to do his duty, which was no less than the
capture of the President of the United States and his entire party. The
captives would then be held in a wilderness cavern until a ransom of one
million dollars had been paid!
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Stagecoach.]
The alarming report that “They are after Arthur!” was followed by the
reassuring word that Sheriff Farcy and a company of United States troops
were investigating the reported conspiracy. Certainly the presidential
expedition was enveloped in an atmosphere of high romance![221]
It is said that camping trips have always been ideal testers of
friendship. Camp life is an excellent form of association because it is
bound to disclose every character trait. Each virtue is surely tried,
and every vice is certain to show itself. Wit, cheerfulness, patience,
and industry were in demand, and their opposites greatly discounted.
Some knowledge of cooking, washing, caring for animals, and tying the
diamond hitch was essential. Good hunters and fishermen were popular in
these camps. Skill in constructing fir-bough lean-tos against storms and
couches for sleeping came in handy. Last of all, the gift of
storytelling and song made its possessor the head of the nightly
campfire circle. Were these the people the poet envisioned?
Keep not standing fix’t and rooted,
Briskly venture, briskly roam;
Head and hand, where’er thou foot it,
And stout heart are still at home.
In each land the sun does visit
We are gay, whate’er betide:
To give room for wandering is it
That the world was made so wide.[222]
Pack outfit owners were a lusty sort. Some of them divided their time
between acting as guides and slaughtering game for both meat and hides.
A few were wholly unscrupulous, both in their exploitation of the
tourists and the Park.[223] Still others were high-type frontiersmen. A
description has been left of one Texas Jack, named John Omohondro,
originally from Virginia:
He is tall, powerfully built, and as he rode carelessly along, with
his long rifle crossed in front of him, he was a picture. He was
dressed in a complete suit of buckskin, and wore a flaming red
neckerchief, a broad sombrero fastened up on one side with a large
eagle feather, and a pair of beautifully beaded moccasins. The costume
of the man, his self-confident pose, and the quick, penetrating glance
of his keen black eye, would give the impression that he was no
ordinary mountaineer.[224]
Still, Texas Jack was quite typical of most mountain scouts, being a man
of life and blood and fire, blazing with suppressed excitement in a land
of high adventure.
Although the stagecoach took over most of the tourist business after
1880 a few reliable pack masters remained in business. Among these was
the firm of Grant, Brogan and Lycan of Bozeman, which conducted a
seven-day tour for thirty dollars per person. Jordan and Howell of Cody
had a fourteen-day schedule, while Howard Eaton, in his day, personally
guided more than a hundred parties around the Park on a twenty-day
tour.[225] In 1923 the trail he used was improved, named, and dedicated
to his memory. The Howard Eaton Trail parallels the Grand Loop highway.
It is maintained by the government and is one of the most scenic bridle
paths in America. It was hoped that many people would take advantage of
this facility, but its public use is meager.
Travel by stage in Yellowstone was started in 1878 and concluded in
1917. Since a generation of Americans saw the Park in that manner, a
description of the procedure would be appropriate. The stagecoach itself
was a remarkable vehicle. It was substantially built, quite commodious,
and reasonably comfortable. Concord coaches were used; they varied in
capacity from seven to as many as thirty-three seats and were drawn by
four or six horses, according to size. Great leather springs, called
thorough braces, produced a swaying motion which absorbed all but the
most violent shocks. The driver’s seat was perched above the body of the
coach and underneath was a compartment for mail sacks and express
packages. There was a strong platform in the rear of the coach upon
which trunks and suitcases were loaded. Harness and other gear were
always of the best grade and condition.
Several hundred thousand passengers were taken through Yellowstone by
stagecoaches during the thirty-eight years of their operation. The
drivers, therefore, were necessarily men of experience and
resourcefulness. Indeed, they were a sovereign group and the cynosure of
eyes as they cracked their whips and moved three span of horses away at
a half-gallop, half-trot, trained, showy style. They were held in high
esteem, as well they might be, for each held a position requiring
judgment and skill. Several expert drivers who “tooled” Yellowstone
coaches were William Woolsey, Hub Counter, and Oscar Scoda. They were
firm in resolution, yet polite in manner, and obliging toward
passengers. Generally:
... they were good entertainers, capable of making what would
otherwise be a long, tedious night ride seem entirely too short to the
passenger, who was fortunate enough to have a seat on the box beside
him, and hear him relate his experiences with Indian and stage
robber.[226]
The driver’s sole duty consisted of handling the stage while on the
line; others attended to the feeding and harnessing of the horses, but
the teams knew their drivers and responded amazingly to their wills. A
driver could flick a fly off the back of his team leaders and bring back
his lash without tangling it in the harness or wagon wheels. Day and
night these “kings of the whip” flung and pulled the “silk” to those
fleet creatures of nature, and over their strength and fears they were
ever masters. “Clear the road! Get out of the way thar with your draft
teams!” was their good-natured salutation as they swung into view, only
to disappear at high speed around a curve or through the lodgepole-lined
road. Unrelaxed, they were ever watchful for gullies, boulders, and road
agents. As they approached a station they forced their horses into full
gallop and brought their coaches up with a grand flourish before the
ever-expectant crowd on hand, waiting for friends or the mail. One
driver boasted that he could drive his outfit down Beehive Geyser and
come out of Old Faithful without losing a hair!
The advantages of travel by stage included interesting acquaintances and
fresh views into human nature. Close quarters in the wilderness have
always been a touchstone, even thus lightly approached. The regular trip
lasted five days and always seemed too short. One tourist regretfully
observed, “Nothing can be done well at a speed of forty miles a
day.”[227] As the stage prepared to pull out some would climb up the
sides of the coaches and squeeze into the open seats on the roof. There,
each obtained an unobstructed view of the landscape and a good sunburn.
Others, less agile or venturesome, would remain in the interior,
satisfied with less elevation, wind, and sun, and nearly as much
advantage in sight-seeing.
There they sat, side by side, hour after hour, old and young, full of
hope and fun and care. Some watched the scenery; others, the horses. All
asked questions—some of them intelligent and well-conceived, some naïve,
and still others ludicrous. They were usually addressed to the driver,
as though skill in handling horses and familiarity with the area gave
authority. Unfortunately, few drivers understood what they daily saw;
still, as a defense against frustration, many acquired a knowing air.
Great guesses were made, and occasionally the tourists were deliberately
misled. Generally the driver’s observations were offered in a spirit of
fun to keep the folks from drooping. A few examples have been recorded.
Driving among the Hot Springs on the Mammoth Terraces, one guide
shouted, “Them as likes their bath hot goes in on the left, and them as
likes it cold goes in on the right, and them as likes it middlin’ goes
in the middle.”[228]
At Norris Geyser Basin the following conversation was heard: One tourist
speaking to another, “If we’re too late to see the Monarch Geyser erupt
tonight, we’ll go over and see him before breakfast.” To which the
driver replied, “No you can’t, the Monarch Geyser is a monarch up here
in the Park. You can’t go see him when you get ready; you’ve got to go
when he’s ready.”[229]
One Münchausen-minded guide informed his passengers that any geyser
water, when bottled, retained a strange sympathy with its water nymph,
so that when the geyser erupted the water became violently agitated; in
one instance a bottle was shattered incident to a particularly powerful
eruption! Many such stories were told by “Buckskin Charley,” “Yankee
Jim,” “Billy” Hofer, and their compatriots. Rudyard Kipling left this
description of Yankee Jim:
Yankee Jim was a picturesque old man with a talent for yarns that
Ananias might have envied.... Yankee Jim saw every one of my tales and
went fifty better on the spot. He dealt in bears and Indians—never
less than twenty each.[230]
[Illustration: Courtesy Northern Pacific Ry.
_“Yankee Jim”—James George_]
James George, better known as “Yankee Jim,” was a pioneer hunter and
trapper who staked his claim in Yankee Jim Canyon of Yellowstone River,
north of Cinnabar and Gardiner. He shrewdly built twenty-seven miles of
toll road through the only available pass. Yankee Jim delighted in
joshing the lady members of early parties concerning the prospects of
bestowing a bit of affection upon him in lieu of the tolls. Little is
known concerning his success in that direction, but he dealt effectively
with the Northern Pacific Railroad in the matter of a right of way
through his canyon.
As time passed, many people who were beyond the “gape-and-run” variety
complained about the lack of a dependable source of information. The
quips of guides who did not know a marmot from a cony actually
displeased them. However, there were occasions when even these talkative
fellows had the good taste to be silent.
They will talk of the Canyon at the hotel and on the drive, but once
there they simply lead you to the points of lookout and leave you with
your own thoughts, or answer your questions in monosyllables.[231]
After a long trip on a warm day, through clouds of Yellowstone dust, the
passengers presented an amusing spectacle. Men in yellow dusters, women
in gray ones, topped off by Shaker bonnets. Hungry, weary, and dejected,
they would alight on limbs half-paralyzed from inactivity. It was then
that a person needed a friend, and that detail was not overlooked by the
hotel management.
Perhaps Larry Matthews was more unique than typical, but a description
of him will convey the idea of nineteenth-century Park hospitality. For
several seasons Larry was chargé d’affaires at the Norris lunch station.
Later he was advanced to the management of an inn at Old Faithful. When
coaches pulled up to Larry’s he would address each passenger in his
genial Irish brogue. Every man received a title of dignity, while he
referred to himself as the “Mad Irishman” or “Larry Geeser.” Here is a
picture of Larry in action:
Step right up, Judge, eat all you can, break the company, it’s all
right with me. Fine spring lamb (spring of ’72). Eggs, fresh eggs!
Just laid this morning (on the table).
Thus he kept up a constant rattle that was very funny. As the coaches
rolled away one could hear the tourists remark, “The jolliest man I ever
saw ... such hypnotic ways, such spontaneous wit; surely no such mortal
ever lived before.”[232]
This growing business of transportation and accommodations was
characterized by vigorous competition. Probably the first conveyance to
enter the Park was a stagecoach owned by J. W. Marshall and his partner,
named Goff. It left Virginia City, Montana, on October 1, 1880. Sixteen
hours were required in traversing the ninety-five miles to Marshall’s
National Park House, a two-story, log-hewed structure located in the
Lower Geyser Basin, near the junction of Firehole and Nez Percé Creek.
These men also built mail stations at Riverside, four miles east of the
West Entrance, and at Norris Geyser Basin.
Frank Jay Haynes, a youthful photographer from St. Paul, started a stage
and photo business in 1881. His efforts have produced eminent success,
and the end is not yet. The photography side of the business descended
from father, Frank Jay, to son, Jack Ellis. The Haynes Studio still
enjoys a flourishing trade, and its beautiful products are known all
over the world.
The Northern Pacific Railroad extended its terminal to Cinnabar in 1883,
where it remained until 1902, when Gardiner was reached. The next year
an impressive ceremony was held at the North Gate when the Triumphal
Arch was dedicated by President Theodore Roosevelt.
In 1883 the Yellowstone Park Improvement Company organized regular
tourist travel. The usual routine consisted of alternating sojourns,
whether in Concord stagecoaches, surreys, formation or spring wagons,
and canvas “hotels.” A trip around the Park cost twenty-five dollars, or
a saddle horse could be secured for two-fifty per day. The following
year (1884) George W. Wakefield put a line of coaches into operation
from Cinnabar through the Park. W. Hoffman was also engaged in the stage
business. These firms were rivals among themselves, and with other less
formidable competitors, for the Northern Pacific’s business. However, in
1886, the railroad effected a gentlemen’s agreement with the new and
energetic Yellowstone Park Association. Unless the purchaser of a
railroad ticket objected he found a coupon attached to his ticket that
delivered him into the care of the Yellowstone Park Stage Line and its
associated hotels. Coupon holders paid nine dollars a day while in the
Park. Five dollars were assigned to staging and four dollars to hotel
and meals. Upon alighting from the train, each person was accosted from
several quarters, much as by hackmen in cities, “Are you a coupon, sir?”
“No.” “Would you like my team then?”[233] Thus, each would press the
bewildered tourist for his business. In 1892 the Huntley, Child, and
Bach interests organized the Yellowstone Park Transportation Company.
They soon dominated the North Entrance business, and other operators
were bought out in 1903. Four years later this firm was prepared to
receive one hundred and fifty passengers daily at the North Gate. An
inventory of its rolling stock included four six-horse Concord coaches,
of thirty-three seats capacity; ninety four-horse Concords, of eleven
and seven seats; and one hundred two Glens Falls two-horse surreys, of
five and three seat models. It was undoubtedly one of the best-equipped
organizations of the kind in history.[234]
Passengers entering the Park by way of the West Entrance came north from
Ogden, Utah, on the Utah Northern (later the Union Pacific) to Spencer,
Idaho, or Monida on the Montana-Idaho border. There they were met by F.
J. Haynes’ Monida and Yellowstone Stage Line or the Bassett Brothers
Company. During the season of 1915 the Haynes firm transported 20,151
tourists through the Park.
In 1903, when the East Gate road was opened, the Holm Transportation
Company secured a permit to operate a stage line. The arrival of the
Burlington Route to Cody, Wyoming, in 1912, gave great impetus to that
business. The West Entrance had benefited by a railroad to its gate
since 1907, when the Union Pacific extended the line to West
Yellowstone. A branch line was also built to Victor, Idaho, which made
Jackson Hole and the South Entrance much more accessible. A table of
operators and charges, as of 1914, would represent the stage business in
the heyday of its power.[235]
The evolution of permanent camps and hotels was complementary to the
development of travel. The first permanent house built was in Clematis
Gulch, on the north side of Mammoth Terraces. It was erected in 1871 by
James C. McCartney. This “hotel” and C. J. Baronett’s bridge and cabin
at the forks of the Yellowstone River were the only improvements made
before the Dedicatory Act was passed. These gentlemen managed to collect
the sum of $9000 for their foresight and property, although they had to
wait until March 1, 1899 to get it.
P. W. Norris’ _Annual Report_ of 1880 lists the following facilities
then in operation: Mammoth, McCartney’s house and Matthew McGuirck’s
baths; Norris, a rude cabin and barn; Riverside, a cabin and barn;
Firehole River, near the forks, “a fine shingle roofed mail station and
hotel.” The latter three stations were built by Marshall and Goff. In
the Upper Geyser Basin a small cabin was built by Superintendent Norris
in 1879; at the Lake a cabin and boat were operated by Captain E. S.
Topping.
[Illustration: Ernest Thompson Seton
“Uncle” John F. Yancey.]
Two years later John Yancey secured a mail contract and established a
station in Pleasant Valley at the base of Crescent Hill. Here he was
familiarly known as “Uncle John.” He was an old Kentucky frontiersman
stranded in the Park by the flood tide of civilization. He chafed
constantly at the uneventful days of the eighties and told his guests
thrilling tales of the forties. A pen portrait has been preserved of
him:
Yancey is an odd character, whose looks encourage a belief in
reincarnation, so forcibly does he remind us of the prehistoric. His
hotel, too, belongs to the primeval; its walls are of logs; its
partitions and ceilings of cheese cloth.... Uncle John’s housekeeper,
who performs the duties of cook and chambermaid, confidentially
informed one of our party that it was hard to find time to wash so
many bedclothes every day.[236]
The meals were most generous, which was a custom closely observed in
those days. This type of accommodation was very repulsive to some
people. Judge Lambert Tree, an ex-United States Minister to Belgium,
characterized the management in general as outrageous. A report was
current that three married couples and two young women were thrust into
a small room to pass the night. The next camp was twenty miles away, and
the only transportation belonged to the company. In addition, this same
party was advised to walk up Mary Mountain because it was such a hard
pull for the horses. Someone was evidently justified in making the
statement, “As it is today [1884.], I do not think it too strong to say
that at certain points on the route travellers are treated more like
cattle than civilized people.”[237]
These reports reached the Secretary of the Interior, and a number of new
leases were promptly granted for the erection of hotels and the
necessary outbuildings.[238] About this time Superintendent Wear was
accused of persuading Graham and Klamer, owners of the Firehole Hotel,
to sell out. In any case, a new hotel was built in the Lower Geyser
Basin in 1884 by C. T. Hobart. He and Robert E. Carpenter also erected a
frame building the next year on the present site of Old Faithful Inn. At
the same time the Cottage Hotel was erected in Mammoth by Walter L.
Henderson.[239] The Yellowstone Park Association also built hotels in
Mammoth and Norris in 1885, Lake in 1887, Canyon in 1890, and the
following year they completed the peerless Fountain Hotel. It was
located on a hill in a strategic position in the Lower Geyser Basin.
From its lofty veranda the Fountain Geyser could be observed playing.
The Fountain House was an imposing structure. It was modern in every
way, having electricity and steam heat. Two hundred guests could be
entertained, and when they went to dinner a head waiter in evening dress
greeted them. In 1887 the Norris Hotel burned down, and in 1894 the one
at Old Faithful did likewise.[240]
During the season of 1894 the pressure of criticism was brought to bear
upon the entire Yellowstone transportation and accommodation setup. The
country was in the throes of a depression, and the rates seemed
exorbitant. It appears that the Yellowstone Park Transportation Company
had been very reluctant in allowing stopover privileges. It collected
just as much by holding strictly to schedule; whereas, the hotels made
more on holdovers. This diversity of interest suggested the idea that it
might be expedient to have the management of both industries in the same
hands.
It was William W. Wylie, of Bozeman, who conceived a plan which met the
demand. Since 1883 he had operated a ten-day tour, using portable tents.
He would organize a stage line and cater to the masses by establishing a
string of permanent camps, with eating halls and sleeping quarters. By
using canvas, his investment would be small, and he could cut the cost
of a trip through the Park in half. Therefore, in 1896, he secured a
franchise, and the “Wylie Way” went into operation.
Of course, the more conservative competitors resented this invasion from
“the other side of the tracks.” Captain George S. Anderson was also
opposed to a string of “shanty towns.” The matter was given a public
hearing by _Forest and Stream_ in its issue of February 5, 1898,
entitled “Nuisances in Yellowstone Park.” Mr. Wylie, known in
Yellowstone as “the Professor,” wrote a vigorous rebuttal for the
following issue. Other publications entered into the controversy, as did
many of Wylie’s most satisfied customers. The question involved was
whether the American people, in the enjoyment of their own pleasure
ground, should be limited to one set of accommodations, which only the
wealthy could afford.[241] The verdict of the public, from which there
is no appeal, was definitely with “the Professor.” The business
flourished and won an acceptable position in the more complete system
that evolved.
In the meantime an actual nuisance was committed by several hotel
operators. They attempted to assemble and maintain wild life menageries.
The government necessarily allowed stables and pastures for horses and
cows, but that was all. Nevertheless, several managers also tried to
raise pigs, although extreme precautions were essential to save them
from bears. Colonel E. C. Waters had a “veritable stockade-pen of heavy
logs bolted all around.”[242] Perhaps the most flagrant offender in this
respect was the Yellowstone Boat Company. As an inducement to take a
boat ride, this firm confined buffalo, elk, and bighorn in corrals on
Dot Island. This untoward act, together with the prices charged for boat
rides, brought many complaints, and upon official request the animals
were promptly released.[243]
Mosquitoes were an ever-present nuisance, sometimes assuming the
proportion of a plague. Accustomed to the pursuit of fleet four-footed
prey, they assailed slow-moving _Homo sapiens_ with particular gusto.
Gleeful appreciation seemed discernible in their song. By day and night,
unless the wind was blowing, the tourists were kept busy swatting those
vexatious, glory-minded, musical-winged, bold denizens of the forest.
Perhaps the most persistent annoyance, next to mosquitoes, was the
prevalence of dust. One traveler laconically observed that he rode “from
geyser to canyon, to waterfall, in a chaos of dust, until he returned on
the fifth day a wiser and dustier man.”[244] But an elderly man,
probably afflicted with asthma, entered the Fountain Hotel, singled out
the manager, and shaking his finger in his face, dramatically shouted,
“A man who would permit women and children to enter the Park, with the
roads in their present condition, is an old scoundrel!”[245] How did
cyclists ever manage to get around? Incredible though it appears they
went through right along after 1882. To be sure, their voices were added
to the chorus calling for better roads. These protests resulted in the
adoption of a sprinkling system that will be described subsequently.
The most revolutionary proposal for a change in travel facilities,
coming in 1894, was a demand for railroads. There were propositions
wholly independent of the Montana segregation case. Many people
sincerely favored the entrance of trains on their own merits. The issue
was discussed in the House of Representatives on December 17, by the
Hon. Henry H. Coffeen of Wyoming. Speaking of the operators, he said:
... they are holding on to a theory of sacred maintenance of the stage
coach and broncho riding method of reaching this great Wonderland at a
time when the superior advantages of railroad travel ought to be
granted to the people.... These journeys going round the Park, so to
say, and coming in at the back door by tedious night and day stage
rides are so expensive, the time and inconveniences so great and the
season so short (three months) that the great bulk of our population
must forever stay out and remain in ignorance of the scenes of the
Park. Not one hundredth part of one per cent of our people per year
could possibly visit the Park by these methods.[246]
While this argument did not produce a change of policy it did give an
impetus to road building. A brief review of that important development
would be appropriate.
Reference has already been made to the rude trails hacked out by
government expeditions and early tourists and also to the trace
improvised by C. J. Baronett and his associates, which led from Mammoth
to his bridge at the forks of the Yellowstone and along the east branch
to the mines at Cooke, Montana. In 1877 General Howard’s captain, W. F.
Spurgin, made a faint apology for a road in bringing his wagons from
Mary Mountain to Tower Falls. It was the next year when the first wagons
managed a round trip from Mammoth, and also the West Entrance, to the
Upper Geyser Basin. In building a road across the base of Obsidian
Cliff, Colonel Norris employed a unique tactic in road making. Great
bonfires were burned over the black glass, which made it expand; then
cold water was dashed upon it, shattering the material so that it could
be chopped out.
[Illustration: Golden Gate drive]
In the early eighties the matter of road making was taken over by the
army engineers. Until 1895 actual control was in the hands of
non-resident officers, which proved unsatisfactory. After that the
Acting Superintendent exercised supervision. Captain Anderson had a
soldier’s and a surveyor’s eye for feasible routes. He favored the
construction of twenty miles of good dirt road with fair grades to one
mile of macadam and the resulting delay in opening the Park to the
public.[247] The principal supervisors were Captain D. C. Kingman and
Major Hiram M. Chittenden. Through their combined efforts the Grand Loop
was planned and patiently constructed. In 1892 the road from Old
Faithful to West Thumb was started. It took five years to get through to
Jackson Lake. At the same time work progressed on the long section from
Thumb to Fishing Bridge and thence to the East Entrance. That project
was finished and accessible from Cody in 1903. Two years later the
difficult Dunraven Pass and the scenic Chittenden Road to the summit of
Mt. Washburn were ready. These were the last links in the Grand Loop. Of
course, there have been continuous changes and refinements. In general
the trend has been away from the plateaus to the more scenic river
routes. Stretches through the Golden Gate, under Overhanging Cliff, and
through the Gibbon and Firehole canyons are both interesting and costly.
In 1902 an experiment was made with the view of solving the dusty road
problem. Several wide-tired sprinklers were tried out. The following
year the number was increased, and more than thirty filling tanks were
installed along the way. Most of them were filled by gravity and rams.
In this way over a hundred miles of highway was moistened daily. Still,
there were times when the dust was too thick for any effective treatment
that man could devise.[248] Of course, nature had an adequate remedy,
which it occasionally employed. Superintendent Albright related an
instance:
Once I had a large congressional party in Yellowstone. It was in
charge of the late James W. Good. Yellowstone’s roads were terribly
dusty and the water sprinkling was of little value. We wanted Congress
to adopt an oiling program but every night while the Committee was in
the Park it rained and the roads were perfect. Nevertheless every day
I told of the dust menace and urged the improvement, but the
congressmen only laughed and some member would say “Albright’s going
to tell his old dusty road story again.”[249]
Continuing the narrative, Superintendent Albright told this story:
“Another year, I met a sub-committee of the House Appropriations
Committee at the Grand Canyon National Park. Congressman, now United
States Senator, Carl Hayden, was with the party when they reached the
park. Here again we had a problem of terrible roads. The committee had
not had much sleep the night before arrival due to changing trains,
and when I took them over the worst road in the park they went to
sleep on me. I bounced them into every rut and hole I could find, but
even then I had to shake them to wake them up. For a long time they
contended that the road was a boulevard, but finally authorized the
improvement desired. On the same trip, Congressman Cramton of
Michigan, for years the stalwart champion of national parks, saw a
camper stop his car near the Grand Canyon Park office. He went over to
him seeking information about the conduct of the park. The tourist
gave him a vigorous denunciation of the roads in the park, and Mr.
Cramton always claimed that I planted the camper there to trap him.”
The suggestion frequently came to the Superintendent that he should
sprinkle the roads with water from Alum Creek. That would shorten the
distance and simplify the task!
In 1917 the National Park Service assumed control over all road
construction and maintenance. Since then a comprehensive policy of
scientific road making has been followed; grades have been modified,
while at the same time great cuts and fills have been avoided so far as
possible; turns have been eased and widened; and in recent years all the
roads have been paved with oil mix. An appropriation of $3,369,450 in
1933, under the National Recovery Act, became the basis of the marvelous
improvements made in recent years. In 1937 a remarkably scenic highway
was completed from Red Lodge, Montana, to the Northeast Gate. After
1928, Cecil A. Lord directed the engineering activities of the Park
until his death in 1943, whereupon Park Engineer Philip H. Wohlbrandt
assumed that important responsibility.
The year 1915 was indeed a banner one in Yellowstone transportation
history. It was the first year automobiles were admitted, and
consequently heralded the end of the stagecoach. Actually, staging
lingered through another season, but the race was over as the poet said:
Here’s to you, old stage driver,
We’ll hear your shout no more,
Your stage with rust is eaten,
Beside the old Inn’s door;
The auto-bus and steam car
Have cut your time in two;
Throw up your hands, old “stage hoss,”
They’ve got the drop on you![250]
Few people expressed any regret, because of the hardships incident to
travel by stagecoach. Still, it is the opinion of many that advantages
exceeded inconvenience. The West, as now seen from the window of a train
or motor car, is not the country introduced by stagecoach. With all the
additional comfort, there is a loss of an indefinable something, subtle,
yet well understood by those who have driven at a six-mile-an-hour pace
through the almost unbroken solitude of another era. In contrast,
regularly scheduled airplane flights over the Park have been available
from time to time since 1937. There are no airports in the Park, but
they are to be found nearby at West Yellowstone and Gardiner, Montana.
It should also be remembered that during the previous forty years
innumerable private parties made leisurely visits and camped where they
pleased. The Park must have been an idyllic place in those “horse and
buggy” days, a hunting and fishing Elysium, especially until 1894. Since
then fishermen may take a generous catch of trout without any license
except a bona fide presence in the Park.
Although admitted under the most onerous terms the automobile
revolutionized the travel there as elsewhere. Always well-filled with
regulations, official bulletins now fairly bristled with instructions to
motorists. Fees were $7.50 for a single trip or $10.00 for the season;
all cars were required to enter the gates between 6:45 and 7:15 A.M. A
printed schedule specified the time of arrival at, and departure from,
the control stations.[251] Fines were imposed for arrival at any point
before the approved lapse of time at the rate of $0.50 per minute for
each of the first five minutes, $1.00 per minute for each of the next
twenty minutes, $25.00 fine or ejection from the Park, or both, at the
discretion of the Acting Superintendent, for being more than twenty-five
minutes early. The following regulations and restrictions were strictly
enforced: Speed, twelve miles per hour ascending steep grades; ten miles
per hour descending steep grades; eight miles per hour approaching sharp
curves and passing other vehicles. The maximum speed limit in 1922 was
twenty-five miles per hour. Teams had the right of way and also the
inside of the roadway in passing. Motorists were required to sound horns
at all curves where the road was not in view at least two hundred yards
ahead. Surely the motorists were in a defensive position, but they came
anyway. A total of 3,513 auto passengers toured the Park in the
abbreviated season after August 1, 1915. The grand total for the year
was 51,895 in all conveyances.
The advent of motor vehicles speeded up every phase of Park
administration. However, World War I provided a respite for making
adjustments. In fact, a thorough reorganization of the entire concession
system was effected in 1917. The main feature involved was the
consolidation of transportation under the management of the Yellowstone
Park Transportation Company. The purpose of this franchise was to
eliminate the pressure of rivals upon the passengers, facilitate
supervision, and promote economy.[252] The Yellowstone Park Company
proceeded to make a large capital investment by motorizing all
transportation. Thereupon, the familiar yellow bus superseded the
ancient stagecoach. It is an interesting thing to observe a caravan of
twenty buses winding its way along a river drive or parked before a
museum while a ranger-naturalist gives the passengers a quick
orientation in the area.
It would be fair to inquire if the bus driver (gear jammer) showed any
improvement over the stagecoach driver in the matter of instructing the
public. Not if the 1921 edition of _Truthful Lies_ correctly represents
the situation, because that little booklet was a congeries of
unadulterated nonsense reduced to a system.[253] However, a gradual
improvement has been made, and in recent years all of the new drivers
have gone around the “Loop” with a naturalist. From him they received
helpful suggestions relative to natural interpretation. A few days after
one of these induction tours the following conversation was reported to
have taken place when passing a beaver dam: “Now, there is a beaver dam,
but where are the dam beavers?” The driver straightened up and replied,
“I’ll be damned if I know.”
At this point it should be remembered that, although the great concourse
visit Yellowstone in cars, many tourists come in buses, motorcycles, and
bicycles. It should also be noted that travel by horseback has always
persisted. Until the advent of the automobile this method was in general
use. Indeed, firms were organized to provide grand tours of several
weeks’ duration. The Howard Eaton Trail and various adjuncts are still
used by horseback parties each summer. In fact, several trail-riding
associations sponsor these trips under competent leadership. In this
manner an excellent Park tradition is being sustained for the benefit
and enjoyment of a chosen few possessed of the necessary time and
hardihood.
In 1936 the long-expected union of transportation and accommodations
took place. The Yellowstone Park Transportation Company acquired all of
the housing facilities and deleted the word Transportation from its
title.[254] In analyzing the business of previous years, President
William M. Nichols and his associates noticed a definite trend away from
commercial transportation and first class American plan hotel
accommodations. Therefore, they rapidly expanded the lower-priced
cabins, together with cafeterias and coffee shops. They are now pursuing
a carefully worked out program of improvement. Practical pre-fabricated
cabins are to be established in well-arranged units in every
station.[255] In 1956 the company had available some 3,150 rooms or
units of lodging, with an aggregate capacity for housing 8,500 people.
These accommodations consist of hotels, lodges, and housekeeping cabins.
The services of twenty-seven hundred employees were required to operate
these facilities. The annual Park population census taken on August 9,
12, and 14, 1955, disclosed an average population of 14,912 for the
three days. Of this number 11,183 were visitors while 3,729 were
employees. The grand total for the 1955 season was 1,368,515 visitors.
Tourists require many things besides food and shelter. Yellowstone’s
policy has favored making these wants attainable. In this field
regulations have also modified certain practices common to general
business conditions. Franchises have been kept at a minimum, and
competition does not exist within a particular camp. However, Park
merchants are required to keep their prices in line with the index of
the market area.
Motion pictures and other forms of indoor recreation are conspicuously
absent, although the lodges sponsor two hours of entertainment and
dancing for their guests and the public at large. These also function to
keep the employees contented.
A general statement having been made, a brief sketch of Yellowstone’s
business enterprises would be in order. Frank Jay Haynes, the pioneer
photographer, built his first picture shop at Mammoth in 1884. Since
that time a Haynes Studio has been a familiar institution in Yellowstone
camps. Another Mammoth Hot Springs store was opened in 1889 by Ole
Anderson. For a time he was allowed to sell bottles of highly colored
Park sand and also specimens coated with calcium carbonate. This store
was purchased by Anna K. Pryor and Elizabeth Trischman in 1908. They
soon reorganized it into the Park Curio and Coffee Shop. Later they
acquired the Mammoth general store and a grocery store near Canyon
Junction. The latter had been established by a released Park soldier,
George Whittaker.
The first store in the Upper Geyser Basin was built by Henry E. Klamer
in 1897. A ten-year franchise for a geyser water swimming pool was
granted Henry J. Brothers in 1914. The following year Charles A.
Hamilton acquired control of these interests and laid the foundation for
a thriving business there. Hamilton also has general stores at Thumb,
Lake, and Fishing Bridge, and in 1953 acquired the Pryor interests in
the Park.
The Yellowstone Park Service Stations are owned jointly by Hamilton
Stores, Inc. and the Yellowstone Park Company. Gasoline, oil, and
supplies are available at the lone multi-pump service station assigned
to each camp.[256] The public garage business is in the hands of the
Yellowstone Park Company. Thus, it is obvious that all of the Park’s
mercantile business is the concern of three operators, Haynes, Hamilton,
and the Yellowstone Park Company. Each operates under the terms of a
government franchise and is subject to National Park Service regulation
and supervision at all times.
The essential public utilities are provided by the National Park
Service. They consist of public camp grounds with cement cooking units,
toilet facilities, telephones, water, lights, and sewage disposal. These
substantial projects have been developed through the years with a
capital expenditure that runs in excess of a million dollars.[257]
In 1912 a general hospital was built in Mammoth. It is closely
affiliated with a similar institution in Livingston, Montana. Medical
doctors and trained nurses are on duty at the principal stations
throughout the Park. This arrangement assures the public of medical
attention in case of accidents or illness.
In 1913 the government built a Community Chapel at Mammoth. During the
summer months services are usually conducted there and at the lodges or
amphitheaters by the Catholic, Protestant, and Latter-day Saint (Mormon)
faiths.
The postal service in Yellowstone has had a colorful evolution. The mail
has always come through, either by scout, stage driver, bus, or “star
route” mail car. In 1937 a fine post office was erected in Mammoth. It
does business there the year around; while postal stations at Old
Faithful, West Thumb, Lake, Fishing Bridge, Canyon, and Tower Falls are
open only during the summer season.
Thus does a cross-section of America meet by canyon, geyser, lake, and
waterfall. They also foregather around counters, tables, lobbies, and
evening camp fires. It would be difficult to find a more representative
assembly of American society. Many people consider this interesting
human equation one of the most enjoyable experiences in the Park.
Chapter XIII
“THE YELLOWSTONE IDEA”
It has already been disclosed that Yellowstone Park has served the
nation as an experimental unit in certain fields of conservation. While
this is true, it would not be correct to regard the Park as the single
place of origin for such a complex and salutary movement. Today the
conservation of natural resources is one of America’s most popular and
cherished causes, but it was not always so. A brief review of the
conservation issue will provide a background for a correct appraisal of
the position of the National Park System in relation to the nation’s
over-all conservation program.
When the first colonies were established along the Atlantic seaboard
America was a land of trees. This profusion of flora constituted an
obstacle counted more serious than hostile Indians.[258] The natives had
already fully cleared limited areas from the ravages of ancient fires,
but the great forest stood almost limitless, and it was dense. Ambitious
farmers yearned for the sight of bare ground; all trees irritated their
eyes and caused them to reach for their axes. They wanted soil as rich
as a barnyard, level as a floor, stone free, cleared clean of trees,
without cost.[259] Except for the absence of trees, these amazing
requirements were largely possible of fulfillment because never before
had “heaven and earth agreed better to frame a place for man’s
habitation.”[260] Here, indeed, was another Eden once it was redeemed
from the leafy wilderness.
Colonials rallied to the challenge of a conquest over nature. They
“drove” whole groves by partially felling each in a series and then
touching off a chain reaction with the downfall of a ponderous giant.
Thus did settlers cleave their way into the forests, rejecting in nature
all that was not of immediate practical value. A little poem published
in 1692 depicts their philosophy:
In such a wilderness ...
When we began to clear the land ...
Then with ax, with Might and Strength,
The trees so thick and strong ...
[These] we with Fire, most furiously
To ashes did confound.[261]
Next to the destruction of trees in clearing operations came the use of
wood for fuel. A river steamboat or railroad locomotive required from
twenty to thirty cords per day. “Woodhawks” literally denuded whole
forests to supply these needs. Houses were largely built of wood, and it
was liberally used in all domestic operations. In winter the family kept
warm, not by securing “sich uppish notions” as blankets, but by throwing
more wood on the fire, “nobody needn’t suffer with a great fire to sleep
by.”[262] Rails were used in building fences at the rate of twenty-six
thousand per section. The increase of population and acceleration of
industrial activity in the early nineteenth century took a heavy toll
from the forests. Fires were started by sparks from steam engines and by
careless hunters, with the result that the precious blotter of humus,
millenniums in building, was often destroyed in a flash. For two
centuries America had advanced westward in a wood age, and trees were
always in the way.
However, there were wise men who had always deplored tree waste. William
Penn insisted that one acre of forest remain for each five cleared.
Benjamin Franklin invented a stove to save fuel. George Washington and
Peter Kalm warned of dangers ahead from floods and erosion through
wanton clearing of land.[263] In 1813, Thomas Jefferson sagely wrote:
The spontaneous energies of the earth are a gift of nature, but they
require the labor of man to direct their operation. And the question
is so to husband this labor as to turn the greatest quantity of this
useful action of the earth to his benefit.[264]
It will be noted that the foregoing suggestions were made by practical
men upon sound considerations. However, there came an occasional
complaint upon the philosophic and aesthetic level. Jonathan Edwards,
André Michaux, George Catlin, and William Cullen Bryant were among those
who visualized nature as a dynamic organization of living creatures
worthy of existence in their own right and for the joy they gave. Their
appreciation is illustrated by this verse:
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of his hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
To be sure, little resulted from this approach; the time was not ripe.
But these slender stirrings of thought and twitchings of conscience in
high places were bound to be fruitful in results later on.
By the middle of the nineteenth century the springs and streams which
had previously provided a murmuring labyrinth of dependable forest
hospitality and protection had become irregular, undependable, and
sometimes downright vicious. The lifeblood of the land, which, under
nature’s balance, had throbbed daily and monthly almost as evenly as the
sea, was now given to torrential rages in early June which were reduced
to feeble trickles in July. Restless farmers found their plantings
delayed until after the spring floods abated, and although the willing
seed germinated quickly the tender plants were desiccated by midsummer
heat. These conditions made it increasingly apparent that Americans
would soon be compelled to approach nature as a friend rather than as an
adversary. Any other course was suicidal.
By 1850 a new and more persuasive corps of conservationists was
emerging. They affirmed that a nation desiring nature’s rewards must
first learn her laws and then obey them implicitly.[265] They defined
conservation as the protection and development of the full usefulness of
natural resources, including forests, waters, minerals, scenery, and the
land itself. Among these far-seeing men were Henry Thoreau, Ralph Waldo
Emerson, and John Muir. Through a persuasive campaign of lecturing and
writing they established the plain fact that Americans, as a people, had
never learned to love the land and regard it as an enduring resource.
Rather had they viewed it as a field for exploitation and a source of
immediate financial return.
Although the effect of these declarations was quite negligible, still
Congress did appoint several timber agents in 1850. This was the first
glimmering of a systematic approach to the inspection and policing of
federal timber resources. But what have these humble beginnings in
conservation to do with the Yellowstone National Park idea? Only this, a
child cannot take a second step until it takes the first. Americans have
never been particularly inclined toward sentimentality. A national
pleasuring ground, such as Yellowstone Park, designed to serve “as a
great breathing place for the national lung, as a place to which every
American citizen can resort,” could not have come into being without
considerable intellectual preparation.[266]
Congress could hardly be expected to enact protective legislation to
stem this traditional exploitation until the idea of conservation became
reasonably articulate and popular. Remember, that even at mid-century
the thinkers were still groping for a program. Perhaps the first
American possessed of both the appreciation and imagination to forecast
what later evolved into the National Park program was George Catlin.
When traveling up the Missouri River in 1832 he was so impressed as to
write, “The realms might in future be seen preserved in their pristine
beauty and wildness, in a magnificent park ... containing man and beast,
in all the wild and freshness of their nature’s beauty.”[267]
In 1844 Ralph Waldo Emerson generalized upon the public need for
recreational areas. “The interminable forests,” said he, “should become
graceful parks for use and delight.” Henry Thoreau was even more
penetrating when he wrote:
Why should not we ... have our national preserves ... in which the
bear and panther, and some even of the hunter race, may still exist,
and not be “civilized” off the face of the earth ... for inspiration
and our true re-creation? Or should we, like villains, grub them all
up for poaching on our own national domains?[268]
Perhaps these men reached these conclusions more by inspiration than
logic, but in George P. Marsh, conservation had a sound advocate. He
spoke and wrote with authority upon the principle of “conserving unique
areas for their greatest values,” whether utility or scenery. In his
book, _Man and Nature_, published in 1864, he argued persuasively for
balanced economy and pointed to the fact of man’s ultimate dependence
upon elemental things. These wise views concerning forest influences
upon precipitation, springs, sand storms, floods, and man’s own property
made a deep impression upon many people.[269] Since then the good work
has been continued by other scientists. In 1948, _Our Plundered Planet_,
written by Fairfield Osborn, reviewed the nation’s unpalatable record of
negligence and waste. He characterized the Americans as energetic,
destructive, violent, and unthinking. Considering the element of time,
the United States has received more reckless treatment than any other
segment of the world. As a result, vast resources are gone beyond hope
of redemption, but others are renewable through the application of
scientific principles.
The tide of the world’s population is rising; the reservoir of the
earth’s resources is falling. Since World War II, America seems to be in
the middle position of strain. In these circumstances, will it be
possible to maintain and enlarge the standard of living as in the past
eras? Fairfield Osborn insists that our attitude toward conservation
holds the key to the problem. Success in this endeavor will require
supreme cooperation among government, industry, labor, scientific
research, and the public at large. Should this grand partnership
eventuate, Mr. Osborn has promised that “no end is visible or even
conceivable to this kingdom of adventure.”
Interest in these great truths is well established now and will not be
permitted to decline, because America has many scientists at work in the
field of soil conservation. This work is furthered by the specialists of
the U. S. Soil Conservation Service. The soil experts constantly remind
the farmers, and others, that America possessed an average top “black”
soil depth of nine inches when settlement was first started. They now
estimate the average to be between six and seven inches. Soil
conservationists hasten to point out that rocks disintegrate slowly, and
that ages, not centuries, are required for the growth and decay of
plants needed in the production of rich humus soil. Soil scientists do
not simply call attention to dangers. They have developed dependable and
salutary cultivating practices such as contour plowing of tillable soil
and terracing of range land. They advise plowing stubble and cover crops
under to add fertility and cohesion to the soil.
Experimentation has been fruitful from the standpoint of discovering
grass and legume adaptability to the different soil conditions. One
phase of national security is contingent upon the effectiveness with
which these practices are applied by all who work with farm, range, and
forest resources. The record will prove that nearly 300,000,000 acres of
land have been practically destroyed by erosion in the United States.
Twice that acreage is rapidly deteriorating under the same forces.
Remember, that it was only a century ago when Americans received their
first rudimentary lessons in exercising a little common sense in the
exploitation of resources, whether for crops, lumber, mineral,
livestock, or recreational opportunities.
Referring again to the status of conservation and natural philosophy in
the middle nineteenth century, it should be noted that several
California citizens first beheld the beauty of Yosemite in 1851.
Inspired and overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of these high Sierra
marvels, they returned to commune again and again. Artists,
photographers, and authors joined the growing procession, and most of
them concurred in the opinion that it was “the greatest marvel on the
continent.” Increasing appreciation and popularity developed into a
movement for segregation under state ownership and operation. In 1864 an
application was made for a federal land grant with that end in view. A
strong committee, headed by Israel Ward Raymond, drafted the resolution
and passed it along to U.S. Senator John Conness. He presented a bill
which was passed and signed by President Lincoln on June 29, 1864. The
grant was given “upon the express conditions that the premises shall be
held for public use, resort and recreation shall be held inalienable for
all time.”[270]
The federal government was gradually warming toward the reservation idea
in areas of little economic resistance from private interests. Even so,
there was no thought of a national park program, but a tract of federal
land had actually been made available to the general public for a
strictly non-utilitarian purpose. The general direction was visible, but
the course was not clearly charted.
Reflective visitors to Yosemite, such as Samuel Bowles, pondered a wider
application of the land grant and reservation principle. It was in 1865,
after Bowles viewed the glories of Yosemite, that he made this
statement:
The wise cession and dedication [of Yosemite] by Congress and proposed
improvement by California ... furnishes an admirable example for other
objects of natural curiosity and popular interest all over the Union.
New York should preserve for popular use both Niagara Falls and its
neighborhood, and a generous section of the famous Adirondacks, and
Maine, one of her lakes and its surrounding woods.[271]
Surely Bowles’ statement disclosed a profound appreciation of a growing
need. He had found, as Dr. Hans Huth aptly says, “a formula not just for
the protection of this or that area of interest to some group or other,
but for a systematic approach to an overall system of protection of
specific features of nature throughout the nation.”[272] However, one
tremendously important element was still missing from the formula. It
was simply a repetition of George Catlin’s proposal of 1832, in clearer
terms to be sure, but still the all-important factor of bringing the
program under the aegis of the federal government was lacking. This
element was supplied by the Washburn-Langford-Doane party in their
memorable campfire discussion at the junction of the Firehole and Gibbon
rivers on September 19, 1870, when it was specifically proposed that the
federal government should be induced to establish a National Park.
Within less than two years the native virtue of the idea, backed by the
rugged energy of its originators and others, resulted in the passage of
the Yellowstone Park Act. Yellowstone, therefore, was the first federal
venture in the field of protection. Hence, technically speaking, it may
stand as the birthplace of the National Park Idea.[273] True, the issue
of protection and conservation had a long history, but one doesn’t
actually name a baby until it is born. In this light, the Yellowstone
experience is the matrix in which the National Park Idea achieved
existence as a new American institution.
Such is the partial record of many influences that culminated in the
“Dedicatory Act” of March 1, 1872. In this chain of progress people
associated with Yellowstone played a small but significant role. They
helped translate a growing conservation movement into a fruitful
channel. A fortuitous combination of time and place reduced opposition
to a minimum. The next question would logically be: what contribution,
if any, has Yellowstone National Park made toward the development of the
present conservation program?
The creation of Yosemite and Yellowstone parks set a precedent for
democratic control of natural curiosities, including scenic forests, but
that was all. No action was then contemplated by Congress in respect to
conserving commercial timber stands. However, Congress was plagued by
petitions, and a few forward-looking legislators were endeavoring to
formulate a basis for a forest policy. The American Association for the
Advancement of Science advocated a program of tree planting, taxes to
discourage hasty timber cutting, a forestry course for farmers, and the
establishment of forest reserves. In 1873, under the guiding hand of
Franklin B. Hough, the association memorialized Congress and the state
legislatures regarding the cultivation of timber and the preservation of
forests.[274]
That same year Congress appropriated two thousand dollars for a study of
American forest and timber production. Mr. Hough directed the work and
issued a series of reports. Secretary of the Interior Carl Schurz was
sufficiently impressed by this survey to create the Department of
Forestry within his department.[275] In addition, he appointed a
forestry agent and sent him to Europe to study forest methods.
Such Fabian tactics suggest that the conservationists were not strong
enough to really come to grips with the problem. But the leaders were
alert, and in 1891 they made a notable gain by a devious maneuver. A
conference committee of the two houses was adjusting differences in a
bill that revised the general land laws. Advocates of conservation
through their leader, John W. Noble, Secretary of the Interior,
dominated the committee. It was he who suggested the inclusion of a new
section, although that was a violation of procedure, which provided
that:
The president of the U. S. may, from time to time, set apart and
reserve, in any state or territory having public land bearing forests,
any part ... whether of commercial value or not, as public
reservations, and the president shall, by public proclamation, declare
the establishment of such reservations.[276]
In that way Congress stumbled onto a plan which worked because, by
granting reserve creating power to the president, the timber lobby was
circumvented. This measure provided a definite wedge against the
compact, aggressive forces of exploitation. President Benjamin Harrison
acted promptly by creating, in 1891, the Yellowstone Timber Reserve in
Wyoming. He, thereby, created the first National Forest, and before his
term expired he set aside a total of thirteen million acres, all in the
Far West.
Another side of conservation was inaugurated in 1872 when J. Sterling
Morton of Lincoln, Nebraska, introduced a resolution for a state-wide
Arbor Day. By 1885 the idea had gained enough popular support to warrant
the establishment of Arbor Day as a legal holiday, and since then more
than half of the states have followed Nebraska’s example.
However, it was a Pennsylvanian who became the most effective
conservationist of all; Gifford Pinchot was well educated, energetic,
and interested in the cause. As manager of the Vanderbilt forest
interests in North Carolina he evolved a policy of perpetual timber
yield. The indefatigable Mr. Pinchot was prepared to make a contribution
to the conservation movement on a national level, and Theodore
Roosevelt’s accession to the presidency in 1901 gave him that
opportunity. President Roosevelt, also, brought much field experience to
the conservation problem. His interest was one of conviction as well as
good sense, sentiment, and politics. He viewed the presidency as a
stewardship for the nation’s resources. More than anyone before or since
he dramatized this issue. As head of the forest bureau, Mr. Pinchot
became the President’s strong right arm, and together they made America
acquainted with her conservation needs. A survey of national resources
disclosed the fact that of the original 800,000,000 acres of virgin
forest, less than 200,000,000 remained. Furthermore, four-fifths of this
acreage was in private hands. Mineral resources, also, had been
exploited as if inexhaustible. By propaganda, lobbies, public meetings,
and conferences, Roosevelt and Pinchot focused attention upon abuses and
neglect. Their watchword was that America’s natural resources must be
administered in the interest of “the greatest good to the greatest
number—and that for the longest time.”[277]
The general response to the President’s Governors’ Conference at the
White House in 1907, and to other conferences, was most gratifying.
Conservation agencies sprang into action on all sides. Even the National
Lumber Manufacturers’ Association established new standards and
specifications for the wood-using industries. The dynamic leadership of
Theodore Roosevelt and his associates enabled the people to comprehend
the basic relationship of conservation and national welfare. Almost
everyone united in the view that a new frontier had been formed and its
conquest was to be made upon the principles and forces of conservation.
Congress had led the way toward legislative regulation, beginning with
the Yosemite Act in 1864, followed by the Yellowstone “Dedicatory Act”
of 1872. Since then one legislative pearl after another has been
collected and strung upon the fabric of the National Forest and Park
systems.
Today there are thirteen federal agencies charged with the
administration of the federal conservation laws. Consolidation of these
bureaus would undoubtedly enhance the effectiveness of the over-all
service. Besides that, there are forty-eight state agencies and, in
addition, one hundred and twenty-four organizations of either national,
state, or local character specifically dedicated to conservation.[278]
From the origin herein described, the National Forest Service has
developed until there are now 180,000,000 acres within the confines of
one hundred and fifty National Forests. The administration of these
far-flung areas is co-ordinated by twelve regional offices and other
adjunctive agencies, such as experiment stations and laboratories.
The guiding philosophy of National Forest management is known as
“multiple use.” This term describes a broad program involving the
inter-relationship of wild life protection, livestock grazing, logging,
mining, irrigation watersheds, wood chopping, recreation, summer home
areas, and hunting and fishing activities. Railroads and other roads are
built in National Forests according to plan and under supervision. How
much of this esteemable policy and program has been derived from the
National Park experience? The two services have developed
simultaneously; as the boundaries of parks and forests often impinge, so
have their policies. Both services have many ends in common; each learns
from the other.[279] The essential differentiation of service lies in
the difference between “conserving an area for its greatest value” and
“utilization of resources in multiple purpose.” It is a matter of
degrees of conservation according to circumstances. For example, public
hunting is prohibited in all 23,899,030 acres of the 181 areas under the
supervision of the National Park Service. However, the service itself
may adopt a policy of fauna diminution.
Having sketched the history of forest and land conservation, it would be
appropriate to similarly narrate the movement to conserve wild life.
Until a half century ago the American attitude toward wild life was
almost wholly one of indifference. The frontiersman killed a deer per
meal and gave little thought for the morrow. Only the Indians were
preservers of game, as the saying, “No Indians not much game; heap
Sioux, plenty of buffalo, elk and deer,” so aptly attests.[280] It has
already been explained how this difference in racial behavior eventuated
in almost perpetual strife between white and red men. There were
occasional exceptions, as in the case of Daniel Boone. In 1775 he
proposed a measure for the protection of game in Kentucky because it was
already necessary for him to travel a score of miles from home to find
buffalo.
The pristine American wild life heritage was on a par with the endowment
of forest and land. The toothsome white-tailed deer was omnipresent in
the East and much of the Middle West. Other species of deer, elk, moose,
bison, and antelope were in great abundance. Reports from Lewis and
Clark, Zebulon Pike, J. J. Audubon, B. L. Bonneville and others prove
that no pioneer ever pushed so far, or entered regions so difficult or
remote, that he did not find a host of birds and beasts awaiting his
pleasure and profit.[281] Man has always had a predatory disposition
toward wild life, but this was not so serious in the ages of club, stone
ax, and bow and arrow. American animal abundance was contemporaneous
with these times.
Wild life conservation became an imperative issue only after the
invention of flintlock, breechloaders, repeaters, automatics, and fixed
ammunition. These weapons in the hands of commercial hunters,
unscrupulous sportsmen, and “game hogs” threatened extinction of many
species of life. Most devastating of all threats was the impact of the
market hunter; no bird, mammal, or reptile species can long withstand
such exploitation. Professional gunners who pursue creatures for money
are invariably skillful, diligent, and persistent.[282] Often the
sportsman is equally skillful and efficient in slaughter. The Earl of
Dunraven left this description of a chase in the vicinity of Fort
Laramie:
We killed elk, white-tail and black-tail deer, antelope, swans,
immense geese, ducks and small game without count. This elk running is
perfectly magnificent. We ride among the wild sand hills till we find
a herd, and then gallop after them like maniacs, cutting them off,
till we get in the midst of them, when we shoot all that we can. Our
chief hunter is a very famous man out West, one Buffalo Bill. To see
his face flush, and his eyes shoot out courage is a sight to see, and
he cheers us on till he makes us as mad as himself.[283]
Concerning the high sport of the Earl’s party, Mary Kingsley made the
witty observation that “In the course of these wanderings they shot ...
every kind of living thing ... on the Western Continent ... with the
solitary exception of their fellowmen.”[284] America has handled its
wild life in such a careless, greedy fashion that several species of
animal and fowl became extinct, and many others were brought within the
range of annihilation. The danger point varies with each species, but
there is an area for each wherein the survivors are too few to cope with
circumstances, and recovery is impossible. This fact became quite clear
to certain conservationists around 1900.
Outstanding leadership was provided by Madison Grant, John F. Lacey,
Henry Fairfield Osborn and Willard Dutcher.[285] These men so wrote and
spoke as to arouse the public and sting the true sportsmen into action.
People who did not shoot were impelled to call a halt on those who did,
particularly upon the lawless element. The public was assured that much
could be done to save a wonderful inheritance. In order to finance the
conservation campaign aggregate bequests in excess of one-half million
dollars were made by Albert Wilcox, Mrs. Russell Sage, Charles W. Ward,
and Mary Dutcher. President Theodore Roosevelt nourished the movement in
every way within his power. He gave the vanishing species the benefit of
every doubt. Under his direction five national parks, three bison herds,
fifty-three bird refuges, and four game preserves were established.
Warnings and appeals directed toward conservation went through all
channels, legislative, educational, practical, and sentimental. The
farmers were assured that the rejuvenated bison, deer, and elk herds
would not be allowed to roam at will over their valuable land. Rather
there were millions of acres of brushy, rocky, and semi-forest lands,
wholly unsuited for agriculture, in which the conservation work could be
done. Sportsmen were promised opportunities for shooting plentiful game
in open seasons as soon as the proper balance of wild life had been
restored. Their response to this program has become increasingly
impressive. They have effected almost innumerable associations designed
to achieve these ends. Much thought and effort have been given to the
cause, and they have contributed liberally, besides paying license fees.
Revenue from all sportsmen sources must approximate a billion dollars a
year. Hence, it is correct to say that combined sportsmen organizations
represent one of the most effective agencies of conservation.
By 1912 the movement had achieved general acceptance. The Department of
Agriculture issued annual “progress reports.” Every state had either a
State Game Commission or a State Game Warden. Montana had established
two state preserves. Several states were successfully experimenting with
the introduction of new species of game birds, such as Chinese
ring-necked, golden, and silver pheasants. The federal government had
created fifty-eight bird refuges and five great game preserves. It had
taken steps to protect bison herds in four national ranges, besides
protecting the fur seal and providing hay for starving Yellowstone Park
elk and others in the Jackson Hole area.
The efforts of government agencies were effectively buttressed by a
number of private organizations such as the New York Zoological Society,
National Association of Audubon Societies, Campfire Club of America,
Boone and Crockett Club, and the American Game Protective and
Propagation Association. Since 1912 gratifying progress has been made,
although there are still many problems remaining. Yellowstone’s Park
Biologist, Walter H. Kittams, and many other specialists are applying
the best modern techniques of range management and wildlife management
to effect a solution to these problems consistent with National Park
Service ideals.
It has already been noted that Yellowstone National Park has served as
an area of experimentation in the field of wild life management. When
the reservation was established in 1872 a proposal was made to outlaw
hunting. The suggestion was not heeded by Congress, and as a result
trappers and hunters plied their trades early and late, seven days a
week, month after month.
A representative description of wild life exploitation in the
Yellowstone Wonderland may be found in the Earl of Dunraven’s book,
_Hunting in the Yellowstone_. This is an account of his trip through the
Park in 1874. While camped at Mammoth Hot Springs he wrote: “Some of us
went out hunting and brought in a good store of fat antelope ...”[286]
If that entry strikes a note of discord because of present practice,
observe the significance of the Earl’s record in describing the
following Yellowstone camp:
In the afternoon we passed quite a patriarchal camp [near Sheepeater’s
Cliff], composed of two men, with their Indian wives and several
children; half a dozen powerful savage looking dogs and about fifty
horses completed the party. They had been grazing their stock, hunting
and trapping, leading a nomad, vagabond, and delicious life—a sort of
mixed existence, half hunter, half herdsman, and had collected a great
pile of deer hides and beaver skins. They were then on their way to
settlements to dispose of their peltries, and to get stores and
provisions; for they, too, were proceeding down the river or up the
canon.[287]
Within the decade it became obvious to Park officials that the fauna
would not long survive this savage onslaught from squaw men,
professional gunners, fierce dogs, and expert scouts and guides vying
for tourist patronage. Along with this realization came another
discovery; soldiers in remote stations had formed enjoyable
companionships with wilderness creatures. These lonely men were
delighted by the universally charming wild life trait of responding with
confidence and alacrity to friendly human advances. It became
increasingly apparent to the officials that Yellowstone birds and
mammals would quickly recognize overtures of friendship and protection.
The idea was advanced that nearly every species in the Park might become
as tame as range cattle if given an opportunity to move safely within
rifle-shot for several years. Recommendations to that effect forwarded
to the Secretary of the Interior by Superintendent Norris in 1879 were
passed on to Congress, and they played an important part in the passage
of legislation on March 3, 1883, under which the killing of game was
first suppressed. In subsequent years the laws were strengthened and
administration improved. This was the beginning of wild life
conservation practice by the federal government. Since then the various
species of native fauna have achieved a generally satisfactory balance.
The Park’s policy of protection can definitely be credited with saving
the grizzly bear from extinction, and the trumpeter swan is receiving
his chance to survive. It may be too late in this case.
Today the alert tourist may reap the reward of that wise and fruitful
policy in observing mountain sheep, antelope, mule deer, elk, moose,
coyotes, marmot, and squirrels as they roam around in the Park. Indeed,
the quiet but energetic visitor who ventures upon the forest trails may
even see the rare sand-hill crane and trumpeter swan. Besides, he will
frequently hear the passing whisper of the honker’s wing. Actually, he
may “shoot” both birds and mammals with the camera and take home
trophies of everlasting enjoyment.
The wildlife policy of the National Park Service has evolved gradually,
and is based upon long experience in preserving areas of outstanding
significance. It has been determined that animals shall not be
encouraged to become dependent upon man, and their presentation to the
public shall be wholly natural. Every species shall be left to carry on
its struggle for existence unaided, unless it becomes endangered, and no
management measure or interference with biotic relationships shall be
undertaken prior to a properly conducted investigation. Numbers of
animals must not be permitted to exceed the carrying capacity of the
range available to them. Predator species will be given the same
protection as all other animals, except in special instances where a
prey species is in danger of extermination. These principles, and
others, control the actions taken with respect to wildlife, and assure
the continued existence of native wildlife in our National Parks.
Chapter XIV
GENERAL ADMINISTRATION
Nathaniel P. Langford was appointed Superintendent of Yellowstone
National Park on May 10, 1872. No salary was allowed, but nothing
daunted, on July 4 he arranged to join the Snake River detachment of Dr.
F. V. Hayden’s second expedition. This party employed as guide one
Richard Leigh, better known as “Beaver Dick.” This picturesque squaw man
and his wife, Jenny, with her brood, not only acted as scout but also as
friend and entertainer. “Beaver Dick” knew the Tetons and south
Yellowstone country like a book, and he regaled the company with many
tales of hair-raising experiences in the wilds. They were respectful in
the presence of one of the last genuine frontiersmen of the West.
The new superintendent was characteristically indefatigable in his
reconnaissance during this journey. Making personal side trips, he
climbed the Grand Teton, called on Gilman Sawtelle at Henrys Lake, and
joined Hayden in the Upper Geyser Basin by mid-August.[288] On this
expedition the reports of much petrifaction along the East Fork of
Yellowstone River (now called Lamar) were confirmed. Many trees were
found that were filled with beautiful crystals of amethyst. Several
species of trees that do not now grow in the Park were also found in a
petrified state. Among these were magnolias, sycamores, aralias, oaks,
and ferns in abundance. This, and subsequent investigations, disclosed
an interesting story of climatic change. Obviously Tertiary flora was of
a Southern type, and Yellowstone’s climate in that time was comparable
to southern California’s today.[289]
[Illustration: Photo by IV H. Jackson
_“Beaver Dick” (Richard Leigh) and family, 1871_]
Members of this same expedition also visited the Heart Lake and Norris
Geyser-basins.[290] Hayden and Langford were more than pleased with the
results. Wonderland’s charms were still a potent draught to the thirst
of these great nature lovers. Their enthusiasm never flagged, although
there were many discouragements. Several accidents must have induced
considerable reflection, if not doubt, about the realization of their
hopes. One horse went to its doom in quagmire; another broke its neck in
a somersault. Horses sensed the inexperience and uncertainty of their
riders in this environment, and there were several stampedes.[291] This
time Langford viewed Yellowstone in the light of what the public would
require, and the task ahead must have appeared insurmountable. Still,
his good judgment told him that the Park would surely become a favorite
resort for future tourists. Plans were conceived for trails, roads, and
accommodations, and in the spring of 1873 he appointed David E. Folsom
as assistant superintendent, also without pay.
Langford’s annual report of 1873 showed that five hundred people visited
the Park that season. A request was made for an appropriation of $10,000
for improvements, but no funds were provided for any purpose. As time
passed, the general situation became increasingly untenable. The
frontiersman’s indifference to schedules and comforts caused much
inconvenience and dissatisfaction to the travelers. A program of
development and a system of concessions was imperative. Of course, these
things would require time, planning, and money, but this fact was little
recognized by newcomers. Langford was roundly criticized in the press
for conditions over which he had no authority or means to control.
However, during the winter he faithfully devoted his spare time to
making plans, and his full time in summer was given to their execution.
For five long years he gave the best that was in him, without funds or
support, never losing his faith in the future of Yellowstone, and
because of his enthusiasm his friends called him “National Park”
Langford.[292]
In 1877 a new superintendent succeeded Langford. Philetus W. Norris, of
Michigan, received the appointment, with pay, and the following year a
$10,000 appropriation was made available “to protect, preserve, and
improve Yellowstone Park.” Norris, although a rather quaint man, proved
to be extremely zealous and energetic. On foot and horseback he
eventually toured all of the Park and its immediate environs,
considering a thorough personal exploration of Wonderland essential to a
wise administration of his office. In 1878 he discovered Monument Geyser
Basin, and later in the season an attempt was made to explore the Hoodoo
area on the upper Lamar River drainage, but the Crow Indians challenged
his right, and “Miller, Rowland, and myself, narrowly escaped.”[293]
However, he persisted, and in due time the world learned about
[Illustration: _Superintendent Philetus W. Norris_]
... that mysterious Hoodoo region, where all the devils now employed
in the geysers, live and kill the wandering bear and elk, so that the
sacred hunter finds in Death Gulch piled high carcasses of the dead
whom no man has smitten.[294]
There is obvious exaggeration in Kipling’s description of wild life
destruction by natural gases. However, evidence confirming the lethal
power of Yellowstone’s natural carbon dioxide gas may be secured without
going into the remote Hoodoo region. Birds die almost daily from
inhaling the fumes that arise from springs on Orange Mound in the
Mammoth Hot Springs. Park naturalists are in a quandary as to the
procedure of warning birds concerning the danger.
Norris wrote voluminously and accomplished much, leaving his mark and
name upon various sections of the Park. He caused trails, roads,
bridges, and crude campgrounds to be made, in so far as the limited
funds would allow. A policy of wild life protection was also adopted. In
1880 Harry Yount was given the assignment as gamekeeper. Yount was a
typical leatherstocking frontiersman. He was rough, tough, and
intelligent. In the role of game protector he spent the winter of 1880
in the Park. He thereby became one of the first white men of record to
spend the entire year in Yellowstone.[295] Harry initiated many of the
practices of resourcefulness and traditions of good will that
characterize the ranger service, and he may be considered as its father.
The need of a game protection program was apparent from the outset.
Indian, trapper, and miner visitations had taken a heavy toll of elk,
deer, antelope, and buffalo. After 1872 tourist parties were largely
made up of, or guided by, mountain men who undertook to provide game for
the campers. Thus, a trip through Yellowstone was, in effect, a hunting
and fishing expedition, actuated by the slogan “slay and eat.”
In 1876 William Ludlow, a government surveyor, was moved to write an
effective appeal for game protection to George Bird Grinnell, editor of
_Forest and Stream_. His argument was buttressed by many observations of
the slaughter “of the largest and finest game animals in the
country.”[296] In 1879 Superintendent Norris made a similar observation
in his annual report. He stated that, with the rapid influx of tourists
and the demand for such food, the policy could not long continue without
serious results. He, thereupon, issued an order for the protection of
the bison as the herd was not in excess of six hundred. However, this
commendable move proved ineffective, and the hunters went merrily about
their avocation.
About this time Norris left the Park service, but before doing so he had
completed and occupied a unique structure on Capitol Hill, called Fort
Yellowstone. It was a blockhouse of hewn timber with a balcony and three
wings, surmounted by a gun turret. He wanted to be prepared for the next
Indian attack, while the problems actually confronting the Park
officials were of quite a different character. Yellowstone was still a
wilderness, and many visitors would not endure restraints. In 1883
Secretary of the Interior Hoke Smith caught two hundred trout in one
day, and the next year Secretary of War Dan Lamont only caught
fifty-three![297]
[Illustration: Old Fort Yellowstone.]
In 1882 Patrick A. Conger, of Iowa, succeeded Norris as superintendent.
His administration was weak and vacillating in practically every
respect. Scarcely anything was improved, but all difficulties were
aggravated. Vandalism, forest fires, and general mismanagement were
added to the problem of vanishing wild life. John S. Crosby, Governor of
Montana, wrote a scathing denunciation of the Park officials to the
Secretary of the Interior, Henry M. Teller.[298] This official
contemplated the leasing of considerable portions of the Park to
responsible persons in the hope that they would, through self-interest,
give the protection which the government had failed to provide.[299]
While Montana’s governor complained and the Secretary hesitated Wyoming
territorial officials took action. The Wyoming legislature intervened by
providing stringent measures for the protection of timber, game, fish,
and natural curiosities of the Park. A jail was erected, and the
territorial officials got ready for business. Cowboy type-cast officers
had a lively time enforcing regulations and levying fines for personal
emolument upon strangers toward whom they felt a natural suspicion.[300]
Vexatious arrests, made under the sweeping provisions of the act,
defeated the purpose of the Park “as a pleasuring ground for the
people.” Citizens questioned the right of a territory to exercise
criminal jurisdiction and judicial powers in a federal reservation. The
act was repealed in 1886, but the effect was to leave the Park in a
worse plight than ever before. As it became generally known that the
superintendent had no support beyond the rules of the department and
their own personal force,
the rules and regulations were ignored, while outlaws and vagabonds
from the surrounding region made the nation’s pleasure ground a place
of refuge. The hotels were frequented by gamblers and adventurers, who
preyed upon the unwary tourist, while forest fires, originating
mysteriously in remote and inaccessible places, raged unchecked.[301]
Robert E. Carpenter took office as Park Superintendent in August, 1884.
In his view the Park presented an opportunity for personal and corporate
exploitation. He was in full accord with a conspiracy to obtain private
ownership of strategic locations. This scheme was advanced by an
organization known as The Improvement Company which went directly before
Congress with its proposition. In this effort, the nadir of private
greed and administrative indifference was reached. However, the bad
cause was lost, the superintendent removed, and a new and better
administration came into being.[302] The influence of General Phil
Sheridan was a constant factor in promoting the welfare of the Park.
Beginning in 1881, he made a series of annual tours of the region. After
each inspection he earnestly appealed to public sentiment, in behalf of
proper government, for the area. Whereupon, Congress passed the Sundry
Civil Bill of March, 1883 which forbade the granting of leases in excess
of ten acres to a single party and provided for the employment of ten
assistant superintendents. This measure also authorized the Secretary of
the Interior to call upon the Secretary of War for troops to patrol the
Park.
In May, 1885 David W. Wear of Missouri brought intelligent and vigorous
effort to the problem. At the close of the season he wrote a
comprehensive report that carried a tone of real interest and purpose:
“The discipline of the force was bad; no head to anything.... The game
had been shot with impunity and marketed at the hotels.”[303] He secured
the services of a trusty mountaineer, and together they rounded up the
worst of the “skin hunters” and punished them to the full extent of the
law. Of course, that was simply arrest and expulsion from the Park,
together with the forfeiture of equipment used in the violation.
During the season of 1885 a committee of congressmen visited the Park
for the purpose of ascertaining how wisely the recent appropriation of
$40,000 was being used and inquiring into the administration of
laws.[304] The report of this and other investigating groups seemed to
be that, although Superintendent Wear was performing his duty
efficiently and fearlessly, the whole situation was honeycombed with
error, corruption, confusion, and suspicion. The Park was in need of
redemption; something had to be done. The high purposes of the
Dedicatory Act were being frustrated. An avalanche of petitions,
representing opinion from thirty-one states, reached the Department of
the Interior and could not be ignored.
Therefore, the Department of the Interior called upon the United States
Army to effect a new birth. This action was taken under the authority of
the act of March 3, 1883, wherein the Secretary of War, upon the request
of the Secretary of the Interior, was directed to provide:
Details of troops to prevent trespassers or intruders from entering
the Park for the purpose of destroying the game or objects of
curiosity therein, or for any other purpose prohibited by law, and to
remove such persons from the Park if found therein.[305]
Accordingly, on August 20, 1886, Captain Moses Harris with a troop of
the first cavalry took charge. Detachments of soldiers were soon
stationed at Norris, Lower and Upper Geyser basins, Canyon, Riverside,
and Soda Butte. Old frontiersmen were notified to desist from their
poaching activities; prowling Indians were ordered to stay away; forest
fires were checked; and the tone of all departments of service and
accommodation improved. The Hayes and Lacey acts granted the necessary
authority in respect to leases, protection, and punishment. Captain
Harris proved to be a forthright administrator. He established a system
of patrols stemming out from the permanent stations. The patrolmen were
instructed to not only follow the regular roads and trails but to
occasionally visit unfrequented places.[306] The patrolmen were ordered
to keep a sharp lookout for bear trappers, poachers, and forest fires.
Persons traveling in the Park between October 1 and June 1 were to be
viewed with suspicion: in fact, they were to be questioned closely and
watched as they journeyed from station to station.
There were many frontiersmen who continued to ignore the Captain’s
warnings about poaching. This challenge was accepted, and on August 19,
1888 a scouting party apprehended a trapper near the southern border. He
gave his name as Andrew S. Page but later admitted he had been arrested
the previous year as John Andrews. His horse and outfit were
confiscated, and he was expelled from the Park.[307] In September of the
same year Thomas Garfield was caught in the act of trapping beaver in
Willow Creek. He was given the same treatment. Garfield made ominous
threats to get even, and a few days later a forest fire was started by
someone near Norris. In spite of occasional arrests the practice of
poaching persisted. Trapping habits were deep-seated and penalties, too
mild.
In the years that followed the cases of Tom Newcomb, June Buzzel, Jay
Whitman, James Courtney, A. G. Vance, E. Sheffeld, Pendleton, and Van
Dych were tried with various degrees of success.[308]
The most notorious case was that of Ed Howell of Cooke, Montana. Early
in March, 1894, a party was organized to visit the winter range of the
buffalo. Members were Captain George L. Scott, Lieutenant William W.
Forsyth, Scout Felix Burgess, A. E. Burns, Frank Jay Haynes, Sergeant
Troike, and two other noncommissioned officers. They traveled on skis,
and when they reached the Canyon, Emerson Hough and Billy Hofer joined
them. About twelve miles up Pelican Creek they discovered the cache of a
poacher. Six bison heads were suspended in a tree. Several shots were
heard, but as it was snowing the direction was difficult to determine.
However, Scout Burgess was able to approach the poacher without being
seen or heard, even by the dog. He got the drop on Howell, which was a
good thing in view of the character of the man.[309] He had driven a
half-dozen other bison in the deep snow and killed them.
The culprit was taken to Mammoth where the presence of the writer
Emerson Hough and a representative of _Forest and Stream_ gave national
publicity to the case. Howell was quite a robust personality, and he
responded to the limelight. “How does a poacher operate to avoid two
troops of soldiers?” “It is the simplest thing in the world,” said
Howell, “just wait for a snowstorm, enter the desired area, make a wide
detour to check tracks of pursuers, if any, and go to work.” “Why did
you do it?” “Well, bison heads are worth from $100 to $400 apiece.”[310]
The articles in _Forest and Stream_ apprised the nation of the fact that
there were less than one hundred head of bison left in the Park and that
the government’s failure to provide real protection was threatening the
extinction of all the larger animals. One side of the reaction was
critical of the army administration. Said one observer, “I would rather
have three good, intelligent, honorable men, inured to the life of
prospector and hunter, in these mountains to watch the Park, than all
the soldiers now there....”[311]
However, a constructive remedy was provided by legislation in the
passage of the act of May 7, 1894. This measure positively prohibited
hunting and trapping in every form, under heavy penalties. A clear-cut
basis of jurisdiction was provided by the Vest Bill. A United States
Commissioner was appointed, “who shall reside in the Park,” to issue
processes and hear cases. An appeal from his decisions might be made
before the Federal District Court for the District of Wyoming. Hon. John
W. Meldrum was the first man to receive this assignment. He held the
position until 1935 when he was succeeded by T. Paul Wilcox.
Within a year after the passage of the Protective Act, Captain George S.
Anderson was able to report that a healthy effect was evident. That was
not the end of poaching because it has existed in a slight and subtle
manner to this very day. However, around the turn of the century, the
poacher gave way to the road agent as the Park’s most exciting criminal.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Poacher caught in the act.]
In Captain Harris’ report of 1888 there is reference to a stage robbery
of July 4, 1887. Subsequently, William James and a man named
Higgenbottom were convicted and fined $1000 each and given a year’s
sentence in the Montana State Penitentiary. Again, on August 14, 1897,
two masked men held up and robbed six Yellowstone Park Transportation
coaches and one spring wagon. The place of the robbery was between
Canyon and Norris, the amount of the “haul” being over $500. These
offenders were apprehended and identified as Charles Reebe, alias
“Morphine Charley,” and Charles Switzer. They were also convicted,
fined, and imprisoned.[312]
On August 24, 1908, on Spring Creek, one masked man successfully held up
nine coaches carrying a total of one hundred and fifteen people. The
booty collected totaled $1,363.95 in cash and $730.25 in watches and
jewelry. The entire cavalcade consisted of thirty-two coaches, escorted
by one trooper. The road agent did not show himself until the soldier
and eight of the coaches had passed. Thereafter, each one was held up
and ordered on its way before the next one arrived. The victims of this
outrage held a meeting in the Lake Hotel and drafted a set of
resolutions reviewing all of the facts. They complained because they
were deprived of personal firearms and denied sufficient protection to
life and property. They also petitioned for redress. These resolutions,
together with the names of the victims, were printed in a souvenir
edition and widely distributed.[313]
Perhaps the most daring robbery in Yellowstone history was executed near
Shoshone Point, on July 29, 1915. It was there that Edward B. Trafton,
alias Ed Harrington, an outlaw from Teton Basin, duplicated the feat of
the 1908 season; the amount taken was about $2200. However, Trafton was
apprehended and convicted of the latter crime on December 15, 1915. His
sentence was a five-year term in Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.
Robberies of a less dramatic character still occur. In 1941 two rangers
fished several purses out of Cauliflower Geyser. They had been snatched
from parked cars, rifled, and cast away, but the geyser threw them up,
and they were used as evidence in effecting a conviction. Times and
methods change, but crime goes on forever.
Another problem that has constantly confronted every administration is
vandalism. A vandal is any person who takes flowers or specimens and
writes on or defaces natural objects, and his name is legion. The more
cunningly contrived a work of nature becomes, the greater the temptation
to remove it to one’s own premises. This urge reduces even dignified
people to the most amazing behavior. They will pry and chop in such a
way as to destroy an ornament for all time. Again, there is the untoward
desire to throw tokens, small coins, bottles, poles, and detritus into
pools and geysers “just to see what will happen.”
Not even Old Faithful is exempt from this wantonness. It is a matter of
record that one party, wishing to experiment, filled its orifice “with
at least a thousand pounds of stones, trees, and stumps” and then sat
down to await further developments. Another group wrote this shameless
account: “We abused that spring [geyser] with everything in our power.
We threw sticks into it and stones, but it was no use; nothing would
rile it.”[314] Name writing in pools and geysers is particularly
alluring to a certain class as nature fixes the insult indelibly so that
in after years all men may read, in letters as large as a neon sign,
that “Sadie, Mamie, and Jack” visited the Park. Many a ranger,
attempting to eradicate such legends with his wire brush, has heartily
agreed with the following statement “... and when the man from Oshkosh
writes his name with a blue pencil on her sacred face, let him spend six
months where the scenery is circumscribed and entirely artificial.”[315]
Will the public never learn that, although it owns the Park, ownership
may be expressed in much more appropriate ways?
The offense of “soaping” geysers is said to have originated in 1885 when
a Chinaman encompassed a small spring with his tent and started a
laundry. When the spring became impregnated with soap there was an
eruption, and up went tent, washing, and Chinaman! It is a fact that
soap produces viscosity which retains heat, and as steam rises it may
aid explosive action. Hence, if some visitors could have their way, the
beautiful sapphire springs and geysers would be “in the suds” constantly
throughout the season.[316] Such activity is strictly prohibited by the
government.
In recent years Park officials have been greatly distressed by another
type of violation. Large numbers of people are disposed to cast tax
tokens and pennies into the otherwise beautiful hot springs and geysers.
Familiar with wishing wells in commercial resorts, they fall short in
adjusting to national park standards of conduct. As one ranger said,
“They forget what kind of animal throws a (s)cent!”
Many lovers of Yellowstone would like to see the rangers crack down upon
rule violators with a vengeance. They argue that a full 10 per cent of
the human race will lie, steal, and destroy flora, fauna, and features
whenever and wherever they find a chance to do so. Of course, the
rangers are quick in recognizing varying degrees of moral and social
responsibility. Their policy to date is one of energetic education and
moderate restraint by authority.
The problem of forest fires causes much concern during July and August.
Fires may start from natural causes, as from lightning, and friction
caused by trees rubbing together during violent windstorms, but about 50
per cent of them are caused by the carelessness of man. Of course,
nature manages to extinguish forest fires eventually, but man has
learned to cooperate.
The officials have developed efficiency in organization and methods of
fighting fires. Major lookouts are established upon Mt. Washburn, Mt.
Holmes, Mt. Sheridan, Purple Mountain, and Pelican Cone. Lookouts also
stand guard in other strategic positions. Fireguards are employed to
clear trails and be available on a moment’s notice. District rangers
train and direct employees within their jurisdictions and take daily
“fire weather” readings. Tools, equipment, and provisions are always
packed and ready for action. When a fire breaks out a base camp is set
up at a road terminal; from there the flow of men and supplies is
governed through radio communication. Fire camps are established in safe
places, by the water supply nearest the burning area. Tools, sleeping
bags, and food reach the fire camp on the backs of mules, by reason of
the skill of expert packers. However, airplanes are sometimes used in
parachuting fighters and supplies to the spot in a hurry.
Accepted principles of procedure consist of: speed in the first instance
before the fire “blows up”; striking hard at daybreak after it has
calmed down and before the wind fans it; cutting a line with saw and ax;
trenching it in with shovel and Pulaski; using pumps where possible; and
always praying for rain. Fighting fire is an arduous, dirty business.
Yellowstone forests are predominantly of lodgepole pine. This species is
thin-skinned and non-resistant to fire, but it takes pains to store its
seeds up in tightly closed cones. These hold the seed fertile for
several years. Thus, although raging fire may devour the forest, the
scorched cones open, and the hoarded seed shoots new growth triumphantly
out of the ashes.[317]
It has been observed that lodgepole forests are not very valuable for
lumber; neither do they present the most attractive appearance. Still,
the trees grow profusely, and in so doing they provide an excellent
agency for water conservation. Let fire destroy the forests upon the
sources of the Snake and Yellowstone rivers, and many of the present
garden spots of the West would be added to her barren wastes. Therefore,
in the mature opinion of many experts, the forests of this area are more
valuable in the conservation of soil and water than they would be for
grazing and lumbering. The present policy will keep the mountains at
home, prevent floods, and assure a more constant water supply.[318]
Perhaps the most tantalizing problem has arisen from the half-century
application of the Protective Act of 1894, wherein:
The killing, wounding, or capturing, at any time, of any bird or wild
animal, except dangerous animals, when it is necessary to prevent them
from destroying life or inflicting an injury, is prohibited within the
limits of the Park.[319]
[Illustration: Wild and dangerous despite appearances.]
People possessing firearms must have them sealed upon entering the Park.
Thus, the animal inhabitants virtually enjoy a natural life expectancy
so far as man is concerned.[320] It is an anomalous situation, without a
parallel since the Garden of Eden. On the whole, the animals have lost
their fear of man, and still very few of them show any disposition to
injure him except in self-defense. Deer, black bear, marmot, squirrels,
and many species of birds are very responsive to opportunities of human
association. Several other types exhibit good-natured indulgence toward
human curiosity, but a few species are so elusive as to be almost
inaccessible. In fact, there are some creatures that possess such a
decided allergy to the presence of man that their survival is
jeopardized by human proximity. Moose, grizzlies, bighorn, antelope,
beaver, and swan conform to this type. They require an environment of
varying specifications from swamp to rocky crag, but possessing the
element of seclusion as a common denominator. Park officials recognize
these factors and endeavor to meet the requirements for the health of
their denizens. Furthermore, they are willing to allow the so-called
predators the use of the Park as a sanctuary, or refuge, even though
their instincts seem to be of a wholly destructive character. The latch
key is out for wolverine, coyote, and cougar.
It should be emphasized that in the case of black bear human contacts
are fraught with dire consequences for all concerned. Approximately a
hundred tourists sustain bear bites or scratches each season, and many
bears are killed for these offenses. Park officials frequently doubt the
possibility of reconciling the presence of black bear and people. If the
latter were governed by the principle of intelligence, it would be an
easy matter. But they simply refuse to believe that the bears are wild.
As a result, they take privileges with a mother and cubs which no one
would ever think of trying with a neighbor’s hound.
It is admitted by all that black bear cubs are among nature’s most
interesting creatures. They are the “Happy Hooligans” and “Katzenjammer
Kids” of the Park. What a spectacle they provide, standing Jesse
James-like along the highway, tumbling over each other in fun, or
scampering up a tree in fright! “Do you mean to tell me those cute
creatures will harm anyone?” says a lady, “Why they smile and wiggle
their tails in the most cunning manner!” “Yes, lady,” replies the
ranger, “but you must not believe either end of a bear.”
When a serious injury or a death occurs strong resentment is expressed
against the administration. It is advised to decide either to turn the
Park over to the bears or to the people. Then a party of tourists
expresses great disappointment over not having been “held up” by a bear.
What will be the outcome of this tug-of-war? It is to be hoped that the
public will eventually learn to obey the regulation, “Do Not Feed or
Molest the Bears.”[321]
[Illustration: Grizzly, king of the Rockies.]
The American bison was probably saved from extinction in Yellowstone.
Although native to the region, the joint ravages of poachers and
septicemia finally reduced the herd to a mere remnant. In 1895 a hay
harvesting project was started in Hayden Valley. This enterprise was
subsequently moved to the Lamar Valley where a buffalo ranch, now called
the Lamar Unit, was established. Feeding these animals in the coldest
months during winters of exceptional severity has proved salutary.
Another precaution was taken in 1902 when twenty-one head were purchased
from the Goodnight and Allard herds in Texas and Montana, respectively.
Since then the herd has flourished and is now stabilized at eight
hundred head. The increase is reduced periodically and distributed among
near-by Indian agencies.
A reduction policy has also been adopted to control the northern elk
herd. Summer is lavish in its gifts to Park elk. Lush grasses, shady
dells, and cool weather make an ideal condition for them. Fall finds
them fat and sleek, with bulls bugling in every glen. Perhaps the summer
range is adequate for thousands of them, but then winter comes, with its
weakening cold and deepening snows, and they are forced by storms into
restricted areas where hunger stalks them on every side. It is evident,
therefore, that the maximum must be limited by the winter range
capacity. In view of these conditions the officials of the Park and the
state of Montana have worked out a satisfactory policy of diminution. A
number of elk-hunting permits are issued to citizens who foregather
along the northern boundary to participate in a bombardment that is
swift and effective. In this manner the Park herd is kept in balance,
and surplus elk do not migrate to the valleys to bother the ranchers. Of
course an advantage accrues to these hunters because each one is very
sure of getting his elk. This program should preclude a repetition of
the agitation aroused during World War I when proposals were pressed
upon the Food Administrator to allow hunting parties a free reign in
securing Park elk and buffalo.[322]
More serious attempts to invade the Park’s wilderness area came in the
form of several irrigation projects, a railroad, and the northern
boundary segregation issue. Each of these propositions, which threatened
to modify the natural character and unity of the reservation, was
strenuously resisted by Park administrations and the public generally.
In 1919 an irrigation project was sponsored by Idaho interests. It was a
comprehensive plan that contemplated a dam on Yellowstone River, thereby
raising the level of Yellowstone Lake. The water from this mighty
reservoir would then be tapped by a tunnel through the Continental
Divide, which would deliver the water into the Snake River. Other dams
were designed to impound water along Fall and Bechler rivers. When bills
S3925 and H.R.10469 reached their respective floors they were subjected
to strong denunciation and defeated.[323] The next year, 1920, Senator
Walsh, of Montana, also introduced a bill for the purpose of building a
dam across the Yellowstone River at the lake outlet. This project also
contemplated the generation of electricity. Extensive hearings before
the Senate Committee on Irrigation resulted in the bill’s death at that
stage.
The movement for the extension of the Northern Pacific Railroad from
Cinnabar to Cooke City, Montana, was not so easily arrested. From the
first discovery of gold on Clarks Fork, in 1870, there had been a
campaign for a railroad, as the early prospects were promising. However,
little progress was made, and when the railroad bill of 1894 was
defeated certain mining interests in Montana became alarmingly hostile.
Frustrated in the extension of a line through the only accessible route,
because of National Park sentiment, these interests came out for
segregation. On March 1, 1894, the _Helena Independent_ declared:
Congress should make the Yellowstone River [Lamar] and Soda Butte
Creek the northern boundary of the Park and charter a railroad to
Cooke City on the north of these Streams....[324]
The _Livingston Post_ struck a more ominous note in its issue of
November 30 of the same year:
Everybody concedes that the destruction of the Park by fire would be a
public, a national calamity, and about the only way to avert such an
impending danger is for Congress to grant the reasonable request of
the people of the West by passing the segregation bill.[325]
In his report of 1895 Captain George S. Anderson, Acting Superintendent,
quietly exulted, “It is a pleasure to note that the various bills for
the segregation of the Park were killed in the last Congress.”[326] This
official was anything but popular in Montana at that time. Thus, it
would appear that Yellowstone, like nearly every national institution,
has been at the crossroads of conflicting interests, and its present
status has not been achieved without vigilance.
Throughout the years the reports of the army superintendents conformed
to a regular pattern about travel, roads, concessions, wild animals,
fish, protection of natural phenomena, accommodations, fires,
sanitation, violations, and recommendations. Whether captains, majors,
colonels, or generals, these army men performed commendable service.
Still, it was an army regime dealing with a civilian situation. Hence,
there were some incongruities and many deficiencies.
What were the facts relative to the army administration in Yellowstone?
Did conditions warrant a change? The circumstances responsible for the
assignment in 1884 have been given. Two troops of cavalry comprised the
normal complement. A main base, called Camp Sheridan, was established in
Mammoth, and a series of stations were located at the principal points
of interest. At these posts detachments of soldiers acted as guardians
of their respective domains. From each station daily mounted patrols
started toward other posts on either flank until they met.[327] In that
manner, two hundred miles of forest road were observed between each dawn
and dusk as the soldiers made their tours from “Slough Creek to Bison
Peak, Grizzly Lake to Hellroaring Creek, and Canyon to Wedded Trees” ...
almost ad infinitum.
Each soldier carried a bucket and shovel as defense against fire and a
little book of _Rules, Regulations and Instructions_, called the
“bible,” to prepare him for any contingency. Among his routine
instructions these orders appear: “... kill mountain lions, coyotes and
timber wolves ... permit no cats and dogs ... keep pack trains off the
road when vehicles are passing ... allow no one to approach within one
hundred yards of bears....”
Each patrolman was required to record his daily activities in a journal
and turn it over to his commanding officer. A perusal of these journal
records is, on the whole, rather dull. The reading is not equal to the
performance because spelling and diction were not among the soldiers’
qualifications for duty. Still, there are occasions when, although “the
letter killeth, the spirit giveth life.” Incidents dealing with clues
leading to the arrest of poachers and road agents, seizure of vandals,
searches for lost persons, rescues of people treed by grizzlies and
moose, or breakdowns, tip-overs, and runaways fairly shine with the
excitement of the time.[328]
The soldiers had the finest western horses:
Our horses are good all-around animals, good jumpers, runners and
drillers. Each horse understands the trumpet calls.... If the army
mules are with the herd, the horses feel safe, for as soon as a bear
or deer appears, they make a dash for them, and when the game sees
those mules, with ears laid back, coming on a dead run, it always
makes tracks for the woods.[329]
The soldier’s uniform consisted of a dark blue blouse and light blue
trousers, unstrapped and cut spoonshape over the boot, cartridge belt,
revolver, peaked cap, and worsted gloves with black buttons. These boys,
like soldiers generally, were partial to their uniforms and dress parade
assignments. Fire fighting and trail clearing were onerous indeed, and
while “a little road making on service is not a bad thing, continuous
navying is enough to knock the heart out of any army.”[330]
The army’s public relations seemed to have been very satisfactory. The
soldiers were uniformly friendly and helpful toward the tourists. John
Muir considered it a “pleasing contrast to the ever changing management
of blundering, plundering politicians.... The soldiers do their duty so
quietly that the traveler is scarce aware of their presence.”[331]
Tourists called the soldiers “Swatties”; an English term in popular use
at that time.
One Charles D. Warner, of New York City, was also led to rejoice that
there was at least one spot in the United States where law was promptly
enforced. He considered the military administration an object lesson for
the whole nation in point of efficiency and impartiality.[332] Opposite
reactions came from nearly all who ran afoul the law.
Perhaps the greatest weakness in the army regime was in the educational
inadequacy of its personnel. About 1910 a difference in tourist
interests was obvious. People, generally, began to inquire into the
causes and effects of the natural phenomena. It became increasingly
apparent that an effective public stewardship required knowledge of
chemistry, botany, geology, zoology, and history. The reign of the “cock
and bull” type of story was drawing to an end. The era of greater
natural history interpretation and appreciation was dawning. Unless
something could be done to educate the Park’s guardians a considerable
educational opportunity would be lost, not to mention the loss of
scientific solution of forest problems in general.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Cavalry Troops in Park Patrol.]
This need is clearly reflected in Captain Anderson’s report concerning
geysers:
I find there is a general belief in the minds of the tourists that
there is some measure of regularity in the period of eruptions of most
if not all of the geysers. At various times during the last three
years I have had records made by the guards of the observed eruptions.
Of course, these do not include all of the geysers, nor have all of
the eruptions of any one of them been noted. I enclose for publication
as an appendix to this report, a table made of observation upon them
during the past three years. A casual inspection of it reveals the
fact that none but Old Faithful has the slightest pretense to
regularity.[333]
A rhythmic regularity was there all right, but, strangely enough, it
required the careful observation of the casual scientist to discover a
fact which entirely escaped the more permanent, but less observant,
soldiers. In 1926 the Geophysical Laboratory of the Carnegie Institution
directed Dr. Eugene T. Allen and Dr. Arthur L. Day to make an exhaustive
study of Yellowstone’s thermal features. After seven seasons of
research, in cooperation with the National Park Service, they were able
to publish a monumental treatise on this subject.[334] Later
observations by such naturalists as George Marler, W. Verde Watson, and
Herbert Lystrup not only confirmed the principle of rhythmic recurrence
in many cases but discovered behavior patterns that enabled rangers to
forecast a given eruption with uncanny accuracy.
Factors of this character were in the mind of Secretary of the Interior
Franklin K. Lane in 1915 when he appointed Stephen T. Mather as his
assistant. Mr. Mather’s portfolio particularly related to the
formulation of an integrated National Park policy.
Chapter XV
THE NATIONAL PARK SERVICE
Although there were thirteen national parks in 1912, each received a
separate appropriation and had separate management. The business of
these playgrounds was scattered among three departments, and nowhere in
Washington was there a single official or desk wholly devoted to their
interest.[335] To this problem Stephen Tyng Mather brought high
intelligence, sound philosophy, and supreme endeavor. By 1915 he had
achieved administrative experience that ripened into wisdom equal to
undertake the preservation of America’s scenic and recreational
heritage.
With this general proposition in mind, Mr. Mather made two visits to
Yellowstone during the season of 1915. There he carefully analyzed the
administrative policies and personnel. While it is only fair to state
that other federal officials were also planning a new national park
organization and procedure it was largely Mr. Mather’s Yellowstone
report that provided the needed impetus. From then on he supplied the
energy, foresight, and devotion to effect a transition.
On August 25, 1916 the National Park Service Bill received President
Wilson’s signature. This measure placed the control and general
supervision of the entire national park activity squarely into the hands
of a Director of National Parks. The bill was sponsored by Senator Reed
Smoot of Utah and Representative William Kent of California.
Thereafter, on October 1, 1916, the troops of U.S. Cavalry left Fort
Yellowstone for duty along the Mexican border. With C. A. Lindsley as
Acting Superintendent a fine ranger corps was organized of mountain
scouts and released soldiers. Shortly afterwards Congress reversed its
action and voted to deny the use of Department of the Interior funds for
protective purposes. This forced the return of the soldiers, and the
army resumed control on June 30, 1917.
During the next six months National Park Service officials, aided by the
army officers, gathered data which proved the inadvisability of
continuing the use of troops. It should be noted that the attitude of
the officers throughout was cogently expressed by Captain Harris:
And it is believed that to the extent in which the present method of
government and protection is an improvement upon former methods it is
due to the visible power and force of the National Government as
represented by the military garrison in the Park.
It is not to be inferred that the claim is made that a military
government is the only one practicable for the Park, or even that it
is the best adapted or most suitable. It is believed, however, that no
efficient protection can be given to the Park without the support of a
well-organized and disciplined police force of some description.[336]
In this spirit, the cost of a military garrison and its lack of
opportunities to drill were reviewed. It was clearly demonstrated that a
ranger force of a chief ranger, four assistants, twenty-five permanent
Park rangers of the first class, and twenty-five seasonal rangers would
constitute a “well-organized and disciplined police force” and something
else besides. It was also pointed out that the cost would be
considerably less. This effort resulted in a second withdrawal of the
troops in 1918. At the same time another ranger force was effected with
substantially the same personnel as developed in 1916.[337] In due time
the members of this new corps acquired a modest attitude of confidence
in their own capacity which still abides.
Mr. Mather assumed office as the first National Park Director on May 16,
1917. In a short time the fruits of his vision were disclosed. Under his
inspiring leadership the National Park program was steadily expanded.
Peace was made with, and a degree of cooperation obtained from, the
natural antagonists of the National Park Service. Several wealthy
citizens who had acquired vast private estates were induced to donate
portions thereof for the general public. Sportsmen who had observed the
diminution in numbers of wild creatures were converted to the idea of
refuges through self-interest. The positions of the lumber, grazing,
irrigation, and water-power interests were less yielding on this all-out
conservation issue. They would evidently favor a compromise. The general
public gradually responded to the suggestion that the country beautiful
was even more alluring than beautiful cities.[338]
In Secretary Lane’s third annual report in 1919 the National Park
Service policy was announced under three broad principles:
First, that the National Parks must be maintained in absolutely
unimpaired form for the use of future generations as well as those of
our own time; Second, that they are set apart for the use,
observation, health, and pleasure of the people; and Third, that the
national interest must dictate all decisions affecting public or
private enterprise in the Parks.[339]
Since then the program has made steady progress. Its purposes and
policies have been enlarged and clarified. The acceptable qualities of
parkhood were defined. Such an area must be supremely significant,
having a national appeal whether scenic, archaeological, scientific, or
historical. Only such features of natural architecture were to be
included as would represent the highest accomplishment within its class.
For example, Grand Canyon of the Colorado exemplifies the most
extraordinary achievement of stream erosion, whereas Yellowstone is most
unique in the realm of thermal activity.[340]
The National Park represents the apex of the conservation program,
wherein the principle of optimum use is the dominating force. The twin
purposes of enjoyment plus conservation always remain uppermost.
Commercialization beyond actual requirements is not to be tolerated, and
to this end close supervision is maintained.
Natural species of animals and plants were to abide in normal
relationships, free from man’s interference, except under urgent
circumstances such as were described in the discussion of wild life
control. The primitive appearance of Yellowstone forests is distasteful
to some people. It was a carping German traveler who said, “Look at your
dead trees and burned stumps in the woods ... and your streams are full
of driftwood. It is not cared for.”[341] In that sense Yellowstone is
not a park but a wilderness full of the beauty of natural disorder. All
things remain as nature leaves them. No man disturbs landslide, log jam,
or wind-swept lodgepole avalanche.
The appearance of the trails, roads, bridges, buildings, and facilities
of all kinds is gradually being brought into harmony with the natural
environment. Under the guidance of landscape artists, structural design
and location are made conformable to maximum scenic advantages while at
the same time, being inconspicuous themselves. A few examples will
illustrate this trend toward artificial recession. In 1889 Captain
Boutelle complained against the statute which prescribed that no hotel
shall be erected within four hundred and forty yards of any object of
interest. He urged a reduction of one-half the distance.[342] Now, all
the accommodations in the immediate Grand Canyon area are being moved a
modest distance away, where they will still provide the services which
visitors need, but not intrude upon the natural scene. Another case is
afforded by the bear shows. Formerly they were provided in several
places; then modified to a less artificial presentation on Otter Creek.
In 1942 they were discontinued. It is truly exciting for thousands of
people to observe thirty or forty grizzlies jostle and cuff each other
around a “combination salad” platform. Still, the circumstance is highly
artificial, a sort of Roman holiday affair, and therefore inappropriate.
It is hoped that the Lord of all American wild life may be allowed to go
his way undisturbed, otherwise grizzlies may become “holdup bears and
bums.” Such an eventuality, on a nocturnal basis of operation, is by no
means improbable. That development would consign this magnificent animal
to a precipitous disappearance from the earth.
Yellowstone’s educational opportunities were early recognized and
utilized by the scientists. The passing of time has widened this
field-study interest. Supervised groups now come from all parts of
America, with individual scientists hailing from both home and abroad.
In fact, more than a hundred specialists have spent from a few weeks to
several years in the Park. The results of these efforts have run up the
volume of scientific titles to approximately five hundred.
By 1920 naturalist activity was in the course of development, the
outcome of an avowed purpose to facilitate the real enjoyment of the
people. To this work Director Mather brought especial perception, skill,
and even personal funds. In fact, he may be considered as the father of
the movement. It was in 1918, when visiting Lake Tahoe, that Mather
observed the activities of a young man named Harold Bryant, whom the
management had employed to interpret nature to their guests. Dr.
Bryant’s work so impressed the Director that he took him to Yosemite
where his success with the public was immediate. Ranger-naturalists were
appointed in other parks, and later Dr. H. C. Bryant was placed in
charge of the educational branch of the service. Two notable
institutions quickly caught the vision and cooperated. In 1925 the
Yosemite School of Natural History was founded as a non-profit
scientific organization. Courses in botany, zoology, and geology were
given. Emphasis was placed on field work, and the final trip lasted two
weeks. The instructional staff was composed largely of University of
California professors, while the twenty trainees were chosen from a
hundred candidates.[343] In 1935 Yale University furthered the
naturalist incentive by providing a fellowship. Since 1937 two have been
granted. Yellowstone Park has taken advantage of these services.
After a decade of experimentation in field trips, fireside lectures, and
exhibits a Research and Education branch was created within the National
Park Service. This bureau outlined a policy of portraying certain phases
of the American scene in a correlated story. Laboratories were developed
in Berkeley, California; Fort Hunt, Virginia; and Washington, D. C. The
leading men in this program were H. C. Bryant, F. W. Miller, W. W.
Atwood, F. R. Oastler, A. F. Hall, H. C. Bumpus, and C. P. Russell.
In 1920, Superintendent Horace M. Albright, assisted by J. E. Haynes,
organized the naturalist program in Yellowstone. M. P. Skinner was the
first Park Naturalist. He was succeeded by Edmund J. Sawyer in 1924.
Four years later Dorr G. Yeager assumed the office; in 1932 Dr. C. Max
Bauer became Park Naturalist and served until 1946, when David de L.
Condon was advanced to the position.[344] All of these men have been
nature-wise and public-minded. As time passed two assistants to the
Chief Naturalist and thirty-five seasonal Park ranger-naturalists
completed this organization. Robert N. McIntyre became Chief Park
Naturalist in 1959.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Park Ranger-Naturalist and tourist group.]
Today Yellowstone’s Naturalist Division stands as the symbol of
America’s love for the great out-of-doors. Its philosophy is wise and
comprehensive. Its scientists have delved deeply for the facts. Still,
there is a spirit of self-abnegation among the personnel. They serve all
and sundry in every possible way, and yet they are pledged to the
preservation of the natural treasures. Their contribution to protection
of park values is shared with that of the ranger staff. The number of
public contacts runs into the hundreds of thousands annually. Wise,
indeed, is the tourist who avails himself of this free guide service.
The principal points of interest are visited over footpath or by auto
caravan. Daily schedules of these activities are posted, and an
illustrated lecture is held in an amphitheater each night. Many citizens
have expressed their satisfaction with this naturalist service:
He unravelled before our city-wearied eyes the skein of beauty nature
has hidden in this great preserve. With skillful phrase he repictured
for us the aeons during which the mountains were wrinkling and the
cobalt lakes were born. His keen eyes found us mountain sheep ... his
wide knowledge compassed the flowers and birds along the way. He knew
when and where to take us to see the beaver at work, and where the
water ouzel bubbled forth its cascade of song. He answered all our
questions with calm courtesy. Around the nightly campfire he brought
to us in song and story the romance and exuberance of the west....
The fire of his enthusiasm welded us to the National Park idea and
out-of-doors as nothing had ever done. We returned to the east
inspired by a new understanding of the greatness of America and the
magnificence of its beauty.[345]
In 1928 the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Foundation made a donation to be
used by the American Association of Museums in the Park. Under the
direction of Dr. Hermon C. Bumpus museums were erected at Old Faithful,
Madison, Norris and Fishing Bridge. The main museum at Mammoth was
improved and a number of roadside exhibits were established.[346]
Mission 66 was begun by the National Park Service in 1956. It is a
conservation program to assure full protection of irreplaceable scenic,
scientific and historic treasures and to develop and staff the Parks to
permit their wisest possible use for your enjoyment. Completion is
scheduled for 1966, the 50th anniversary of the establishment of the
National Park Service, hence Mission 66.
Under this program, new roads, bridges, campgrounds and other facilities
are being built. A fine new visitor center was opened in 1958 at Canyon
Village and a large number of attractive new roadside exhibits and signs
interpret the human and natural history of the great natural museum that
is Yellowstone.
During the score of years required to develop the naturalist branch, the
protective division was not marking time. In 1920 James McBride became
the first Chief Ranger. Since then Samuel Tilden Woodring, George F.
Baggley, Francis D. LaNoue, Maynard Barrows, Curtis K. Skinner and Otto
M. Brown have served. Nelson Murdock became Chief Ranger in 1960. Under
their supervision the character of the personnel has been gradually
changed. Originally a mountain scout and ex-soldier organization, it is
now composed of college graduates. These men divide their time and
effort between applying the principles of forest and wild life
management with those of public relations. Physically robust, mentally
alert, sociable and understanding, they properly exemplify the
traditional informality and hospitality of the West.
Of course there have always been a few political appointees present
among the seasonal Park rangers. This makes the group quite varied,
somewhat in keeping with the universality of the tourists themselves.
Many a city lad has had the time of his life in his fleeting role as a
“ninety-day wonder.” Still there has always been a restraining influence
reaching out from the chief ranger’s office. A young man is not allowed
to become too self-conscious over his uniform or badge of authority.
The Superintendent presides over the protective and naturalist divisions
and all other units of the National Park Service in Yellowstone. Only
four men have held this position since the army withdrew in 1918. C. A.
Lindsley was succeeded by Horace M. Albright in 1919. Mr. Albright
served for ten years, after which Roger W. Toll took office. Edmund B.
Rogers was appointed May 25, 1936, and served until November 1, 1956,
when Superintendent Lemuel A. Garrison succeeded him. The
superintendent’s office is the nerve center of the Park. From there all
activities are co-ordinated. This official is also the liaison man with
the National Park Service; he makes all estimates and recommendations;
he contends for assistance from cooperating agencies, such as the
Civilian Conservation Corps, Emergency Relief Administration, and Public
Works Administration.[347] The Public Health Service, the Geological
Survey, and the Fish and Wildlife Service each lend cooperation in their
special fields. It is also his function to consider many letters of
introduction and requests for special favors. He is expected,
personally, to welcome numerous delegations and important national and
foreign personages. Information and courtesies flow from his presence
continuously. He must determine the bounds of concessionaires, hear
major complaints, oppose all invasions by mercenary interests, and, if
necessary, labor to expand the Park’s boundaries.
[Illustration: Madison Junction Historical Museum.]
Beginning early in the twentieth century there were advocates of an
extension southward. Many people wanted to have the cathedral-like
Tetons incorporated in the Park. A campaign for a Greater Yellowstone
was launched, and in 1918 Representative Mondell introduced a measure
(H.R. 11661) providing for their incorporation.[348] However, the matter
was delayed, and the passing of time resulted in the establishment of
the Grand Teton National Park. A national park may only be created by an
act of Congress; whereas an executive order is sufficient for the
creation of a national monument or a moderate extension of a park
boundary. Through a proclamation issued by President Hoover on October
20, 1932, Yellowstone National Park acquired a triangular strip of 7,600
acres of land, now called the Stevens Creek area. It is located
northwest of Gardiner townsite, and it was enlarged to the extent of
nearly a thousand acres the next year. In affairs of this character the
National Park Service and the Superintendent work in close cooperation
with the Secretary of the Interior. Indeed, the superintendency of
Yellowstone is one of the ranking positions of its kind in the National
Park Service. His final obligation is to be sure that the original
objective “for the benefit and enjoyment of the people” is still the
chief and ever-constant purpose.
It has been pointed out that the fulfillment of this objective is rather
difficult, because various interests and groups have their own ideas
concerning the purposes and methods of administering national parks. For
example, in Idaho, there are some organizations that seek an Idaho
entrance to the Park on Fall River. They point to the fact that distance
and time would be appreciably reduced in reaching Old Faithful via this
route. Besides, they aver, such an entrance would traverse a beautiful
scenic area. These contentions are both valid and understandable. So is
the demand for landing strips and airport facilities within the
reservation boundaries.
The latter project, it is held, is identical to the position raised by
motorists in 1915. National Park officials have met these issues
squarely. Director Conrad L. Wirth and his Yellowstone representatives
have vetoed both proposals. “Surely,” they reason, “the Park is for the
people, but if it is multisected by highways and airways, what will
become of the primitive areas?” Sizeable regions are essential for the
propagation and preservation of wild life. In addition, they point to
the fact that as of this date most people conceive of the parks as
havens of relative quiet and rest.
During the travel season of 1959, Yellowstone was host to 1,489,112
visitors. This multitude exceeded the total of all persons entering the
Park in the first half century of its existence. Facilitating their
enjoyment and at the same time preserving the domain as a pleasuring
ground for their descendants requires a good measure of understanding on
the part of the public, together with a high degree of understanding and
training upon the part of the officials.
Earth tremors are common in the Yellowstone region. The Hayden Survey
reported feeling severe shocks near Steamboat Point on Yellowstone Lake
in 1871. They named the site “Earthquake Camp.” Other quakes have been
reported, mostly of a minor nature. At 11:38 p.m. on August 17, 1959, an
earthquake of magnitude 7.1 on the Richter Scale struck the Yellowstone
area. The epicenter of the quake was along the western boundary of the
Park in the vicinity of Grayling Creek.
The greatest earthquake damage took place in the Madison Canyon about 7
miles below Hebgen Dam and outside Yellowstone. A massive slide of about
80 million tons of earth and rock blocked the canyon and entombed a
number of campers along a half-mile stretch of the Madison River. This
natural dam has created Earthquake Lake, a feature that will attract
attention for years to come.
In Yellowstone National Park dangerous rock slides covered Park roads at
several points along the Madison, Firehole, and Gibbon rivers, and at
Golden Gate. Tall chimneys toppled from Old Faithful Inn and other Park
buildings, and there was structural damage to many roads and buildings.
The hot springs showed a greater change in this one night than had been
observed in the entire history of the Park. Close study of the thermal
features revealed that most springs had discharged water copiously
during the quake and aftershocks, and then ebbed below normal levels.
Investigation revealed that at least 298 springs and geysers had erupted
the night of the quake, and 160 of these were springs with no previous
record of eruption. Other changes occurred slowly. The Fountain Paint
Pot did not manifest unusual activity until several days after the
quake, but then encroached upon walks and parking areas. Most of the hot
springs became turbid, and even cold springs that fed the mountain
streams on the west side of the Park discharged an opaque mud which
discolored the creeks and rivers.
Equilibrium was gradually restored in the geyser basins. Some of the
earthquake changes were permanent, others transitory. All of them make
this chapter in the living geology of Yellowstone an intensely
interesting one for Park visitors to learn about.
Upon receiving reports about earthquake effects throughout the Park,
Superintendent Lon Garrison exclaimed, “The Lord had his arms around us.
We had 18,000 people inside Yellowstone that night, and not one person
was killed or badly hurt. Think what would have happened if the quake
had come during daylight—at Old Faithful Inn, for example, where the
chimney fell into the dining room.”
Thus, out of Yellowstone’s development under scouts, soldiers, and
rangers, has come invaluable experience for the good of the whole
nation. From its humble origin a service has evolved that now
administers more than one hundred and seventy-five national park service
areas. Perhaps the value of this program toward the enrichment of
American life cannot be assessed. However, something of its breadth has
been caught and cast in the bronze plaque at the Madison Junction
Museum:
Stephen Tyng Mather
July 4, 1867 Jan. 22, 1930
He laid the foundation of the National Park Service. Defining and
establishing the policy under which its areas shall be developed and
conserved unimpaired for future generations. There will never come an
end to the good that he has done.
Yellowstone is one of these irreducible frontiers which should never
vanish, but to find a frontier one must first have the spirit of a
frontiersman. Therefore within its confines are vast wilderness zones
into which people may still go who cherish the elemental conditions of
earth and its denizens. Here there may always be a pristine land,
reminiscent of the primitive environment of mankind. Here is a temporary
refuge for people distraught by the strain and turmoil of modern life.
It is becoming increasingly clear that the nation which leads the world
in feverish business activity requires playgrounds as well as workshops.
If America would maintain its industrial supremacy let her plan not only
the conservation of materials but of men.[349] Therefore, let them come
to Yellowstone and other national parks and achieve physical, mental,
and especially spiritual regeneration for all time to come. In
Yellowstone, the National Park Service will be on hand to so direct the
experience of the visitors to the end that even from afar and after many
years their memories will return again. And, as the deepening twilight
seems to bring the earth and the sky together, they may reflect upon a
land where white-robed columns of steam ascend from the fissures of
geysers long dead, like ghosts revisiting the scenes of their
activity.[350]
Such is the desire of all large and generous minds. They are in full
agreement with the glowing tribute of the Earl of Dunraven:
All honor then to the United States for having bequeathed as a free
gift to man the beauties and curiosities of Wonderland. It is 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 to come.[351]
And so, here is Yellowstone—The Gem of the Mountains. Is she not worthy
of the fullest measure of preservation, appreciation, and defense?
Surely, the Park is an incomparable heritage in the divine legacy that
is America. May her fountains never fail but go dancing eternally along,
shedding joy and inspiration upon the hearts of all who seek a certain
treasure.
[Illustration: W. S. Chapman
Park Ranger.]
Appendix I
YOUNG MEN CAMPING IN YELLOWSTONE WILDERNESS
An adaptation of Rudyard Kipling’s
“The Feet of the Young Men”
By Merrill D. Beal
When Yellowstone Park is opened then the smokes of council rise,
Pleasant smokes ’ere yet twixt trail and trail they choose.
Then the ropes and girths are tested while they pack their last
supplies,
Now the young men head for camps beyond the Tetons!
Faith will lead them to those altars, hope will light them to that
shrine,
Pilot knobs will safely guide them to their goal.
They must go, go, go, away from home!
On the summit of the world they’re overdue.
Away! The trail is clear before you,
When the old spring fret comes o’er you
And the Red Gods call for you!
They will see the beaver falling and hear the white swan calling,
They’ll behold the fishhawk fumble as bald eagle takes a tumble to rob
him of his haul.
They will lie alone to hear the wild geese cry.
They may watch the blacktail mating as they work the chosen waters
where the mackinaw are waiting
And the cutthroats jumping crazy for the fly!
They must go, go, go, away from here!
On the summit of the world they’re overdue.
Begone! The way is clear before you
When the old spring fret comes o’er you,
And the Red Gods call for you!
They will see the lakeside lilies where the bull moose meets the cow,
Or maybe silver grizzlies nurse the sow.
They must climb the blue-roofed Rockies and observe that windy rift
Where the baffling mountain eddies chop and change.
They will learn the long day’s patience, belly down on talus drift,
And hear the thud of bison on the range.
It is there that they are going where the bighorn and the ewes lie,
To a trusty, nimble ranger that they know;
They have sworn an oath to keep it on the brink of Mitsiadazi
For the Red Gods call them out and they must go.
Let them go, go, go, away from home!
On the summit of the world they’re overdue.
Be off! The trail is clear before you
When the old spring fret comes o’er you,
And the Red Gods make their medicine again.
“So it’s onward ponies, sally, this is not the place to dally!”
For the young men’s thoughts are turning to a camp of special
yearning,
Hidden in a hanging valley.
They must find that blackened timber, they must head that racing
stream,
With its raw, right-angled log jam at the end,
And a bar of sun-warmed gravel where a lad can bask and dream
To the click of shod canoe poles ’round the bend.
It is there that they are going with their rods and reels and traces,
With a silent, smoky packer that they know;
To their beds of fleecy fir-mat with the star light on their faces,
All are ready now to hold the evening show.
So they go, go, go, away from here!
On the summit of the world they’re overdue.
So long! The trail is clear before you,
When the old spring fret comes o’er you,
And the Red Gods call you forth and you must go!
In the afterglow of twilight, tales of wonder find their voice,
Trapping, fighting, robbing, poaching yield a choice:
There’s John Colter’s mighty run and Jim Bridger’s towering fun,
There’s Everts’ five-week fast and Ed Trafton’s crimson past.
There’s George Cowan’s rugged vim; there’s Buckskin Charley,
Beaver Dick and Yankee Jim!
Nez Percé Joseph’s flight and capture will fill each soul with rapture
In this camp of keen desire and pure delight.
Let them go, go, go, away from home!
On the summit of the world they’re overdue.
Away! The trail is clear before you
When the old spring fret comes o’er you,
And the Red Gods mix their medicine again.
[Illustration: Photo by Jack Young
_Young men camping in Yellowstone_]
When the mountain yarns cease flowing and the night is in the glowing,
conversation wanes.
Then a sudden clap of thunder makes them huddle up the number to fend
against the rains.
When the fleeting squalls are over and the clouds ride high and fair,
They will hear the lodgepole crackle and inhale the pine-sap air.
Then bacon scent and wood smoke will attract an eager bear,
He will grunt and sniff and gurgle as he wends nocturnal rounds.
As darkness dims youth’s vision, so sleep crowds out all sounds,
But the eerie detonation of the bull elk’s morning call
Will waken them from slumber by a singing water fall.
Hence, they go, go, go, away from here!
On the summit of the world they’re overdue.
Carry on! The trail is clear before you
When the old spring fret comes o’er you,
And the Red Gods call for you!
Unto each the voice and vision, unto each his hunch and sign,
Lonely geyser in a basin, misty sweat bath ’neath a pine.
Unto each a lad who knows his naked soul!
Unto each a rainbow arching through a window in the sky,
While the blazoned, bird-winged butterflies flap by.
It is there that they are going to a region that they know,
Where the sign betrays the badger and the shaggy buffalo.
Where the trail runs out in breccia midst rock forests row on row.
It is there life glides serenely without conduct that’s unseemly,
In a land where thoughts and feelings overflow.
Quick! Ah, heave the camp kit over!
For the Red Gods call them forth and they must go.
Let them go, go, go, away from home!
On the summit of the world they’re overdue.
Farewell! The trail is clear before you
When the old spring fret comes o’er you,
And the Red Gods mix their medicine once more.
Appendix II
THE PROBLEM OF “COLTER’S ROUTE IN 1807”
It may seem unfruitful at this time to attempt a solution of the problem
of John Colter’s 1807 route of discovery in Yellowstone. Many people
require no proof of anything cited in the records of such great scouts
as Jedediah S. Smith, Kit Carson, and John Colter. Their integrity need
not be questioned. Still, it is within the province of the historian to
sift and test all of the evidence until the truth falls into place as
elements in a jigsaw puzzle. Even myths and legends should be examined
for any implications and bearing they might have upon a fact. It is in
this light that the following discussion of the Colter discovery problem
is presented. This case is entirely hypothetical, since no specific
reference to his route has been found anywhere among source material,
except as it is approximated upon the Map of 1814.
Beyond the known facts of Colter’s journey in 1807, the Map of 1814, and
the “Colter’s Hell” legend, there is a complete hiatus, or vacuum.
However, the Map of 1814 is certainly a tangible thing; let it tell its
own story: It is known that William Clark had a friend in Philadelphia
named Nicholas Biddle who arranged for the publication of _The Lewis and
Clark Journals_. In order to properly depict the journey, Mr. Biddle
secured the services of a prominent Philadelphia cartographer named
Samuel Lewis. Twice in 1810 Clark sent sheets of map material to Mr.
Biddle.[352] John Colter reached St. Louis in May, 1810. It is certain
that he called upon Clark and gave him information, if not sheets,
depicting his famous journey of 1807. This data was undoubtedly sent on
to Mr. Biddle, either as Colter drew it or as it was accurately redrawn
by Clark. At least one of Colter’s sheets was incorporated in the final
Map of 1814.[353] The first, or eastern prairie, side of the Colter plat
traced his journey up Pryors Fork, about fifty miles west of Fort
Manuel, through Pryors Gap. Then he crossed over to Clarks Fork, which
he ascended, probably to Dead Indian Creek. From this creek Colter
crossed over a divide to the North Fork Shoshone River where he first
smelled sulphur. This he called Stinking Water River, most probably
referring to the present De Maris Mineral Springs near Cody, Wyoming.
On Stinking Water River he encountered the “Yep-pe Band of Snake Indians
1000 souls.” This was evidently a clan of the Crow tribe. From these
Yep-pe Indians, denizens of both prairie and mountain, he undoubtedly
learned of the Yellowstone geysers and other marvels. This accounts for
his side trip which brought him back to the Yep-pe camp. It is likely
that some of these Indians directed Colter along another route in
returning to Manuel’s Fort. Obviously they went down the North Fork
Shoshone, or Colter’s Stinking Water River, to its junction with
Shoshone River. This, he followed to Gap Creek (now Sage Creek) which he
ascended to Pryors Gap.[354] By this alternate route Colter again
reached Pryors Fork where he crossed over to return to Fort Manuel.
From this examination it is obvious that the western boundary of
Colter’s first map lies east of 110° longitude, and up to that point no
difficulty whatever is encountered with either the route or the map.
This line undoubtedly defines the west border of Colter’s first sheet.
It became a part of the Map of 1814 without change. Hence, it is a
correct representation of the “Buffalo Bill country” around Cody,
Wyoming. Published in 1814, it could only have been the work of John
Colter, because no other white man had visited that area. Because of the
accuracy of Colter’s first plat, or east portion of the map, his course
to the Yep-pe Indian camp can be followed like tracks in the snow. Just
so, the return route east of 110° can be identified as coming down
Sunlight Creek and back up Dead Indian Creek to the Yep-pe Indian camp.
From there he followed a shorter route, in returning to the eastern edge
of the map sheet, that is to say, the head of Pryors Fork.
[Illustration: M. D. Beal
Yellowstone section of Colter’s route.]
[Illustration: Logic and a reasonable sense of procedure would
support this route as the trail of Colter’s Yellowstone Discovery.
Conclusive proof is lacking.]
Thus, it is evident that the eastern courses of Colter’s journey, both
going and coming, are accurately depicted on the Map of 1814. East of
110° it is an accurate and authentic mapping of the area, just such a
one as an intelligent trapper would make. Whatever is depicted
corresponds to actual geography. It is factual, tangible, verifiable,
and indisputable.
This part of the map proves that Colter did take an extended journey in
a southwesterly direction, but it does not prove that he discovered
Yellowstone Park. The dependable part of the map simply accounts for the
eastern part of the figure eight which is essential to describe the
complete journey.[355] The reliable part leads him only to the
southeastern border of Yellowstone Park and brings him back from farther
north along its eastern boundary.
The western portion of the dotted line on the Map of 1814 is purely
fictitious and encompasses an area far beyond that occupied by
Yellowstone Park. Indeed, this part of Colter’s route winds among a
labyrinth of geographical unreality.[356] Therefore, Colter’s route, as
represented by the western loop of the dotted line, is likewise invalid.
Here, then, is the problem of Colter’s discovery: How could the map of
his exploration, which necessarily described a figure eight, be at once
so authentic in the east and so fictitious in the west? The Yellowstone
area of the Map of 1814 is certainly one of organized confusion, but it
does not follow that Colter drew that portion of the map as it appears.
Actual geography and common sense prove that a trapper on foot could not
possibly have seen both the Arkansas and Platte rivers. Just as surely,
geography and common sense attest that in traveling a normal western
loop of the figure eight he would have seen precisely what the map does
not depict, namely: Upper Yellowstone River, Snake River, Yellowstone
Lake, and the thermal areas at Thumb of Lake and near Hayden Valley.
Thus, by elimination, an obvious conclusion evolves, namely that the
western loop is not as Colter drew it. Instead of actuality, there is
fiction; nothing in this part of the map conforms to reality. That
geography only exists upon the Map of 1814. John Colter died in 1813 so
he never even saw the route as depicted, to say nothing of traveling
along it.
[Illustration: J. N. Barry
Western section of Colter’s route.]
[Illustration: A true sketch of the Yellowstone Park area.]
[Illustration: Fictitious geography depicted on the map of 1814.
Note the complete incongruity between the real map and the guess
map.]
The failure of writers to recognize the fictitious character of this
portion of the Map of 1814 has led to a comical performance. They have
assigned to Colter the role of a human helicopter who hopped over
mountains and valleys visiting the drainage basins of all the river
systems within a radius of five hundred miles of the Yep-pe Indian
village. First they trail him on Teton River, Big Sandy, Gros Ventre,
and Greybull. Then they track him over South Pass, Teton Pass, and Union
and Twogwotee passes. These authors have never trudged the wilds of
which they write nor even measured them on a real map. Where, then, did
Colter travel? The answer to that problem largely depends upon a
rational interpretation of that fantastic map sheet. Perhaps an
investigation of the process by which the map was produced will offer a
clue.
As stated before, Clark sent map materials to Biddle, who in turn passed
them on to Samuel Lewis, a professional cartographer, to be worked into
a map of the Trans-Mississippi West. This was a very difficult
assignment because the sheets were of various scales, which necessitated
overlapping, crowding, and uncertainty as to latitudes and
longitudes.[357] The manner in which Lewis fitted them into a mosaic
represents a remarkable work of art. Deficiencies are largely
attributable to the inadequate data received, but in the case of
Colter’s journey another element is involved.
In the course of compilation, between 1810 and 1814, Clark must have
sent a redrawing of the route of Colter’s journey.[358] By way of
review, let it be remembered that Colter reached St. Louis in May of
1810. He called on Clark and evidently presented several sheets of
trapper map to him. This was the material which depicted his journey of
1807, and it seemed to be highly appreciated by Clark. That it was given
preference by Clark over the contemporary exploration of Zebulon M. Pike
simply substantiates the belief that Colter’s journey made a profound
impression upon Clark at that time.[359] On December 20, 1810, Clark
apparently sent the original Colter sheets, or properly redrawn copies
of them, to Nicholas Biddle. Clark also inserted, or superimposed, two
rivers upon the Colter drawing. They were Clarks Fork and Bighorn
rivers.
It is important to remember that Clark had full confidence in Colter’s
representation of his journey at this time, that is, December, 1810. The
following year Andrew Henry returned from his exploration of the Madison
and Snake river regions. He had seen only ordinary country. This report
seems to have destroyed Clark’s belief in Colter’s story of marvels. Not
wishing to deceive anyone by the delusions of a deranged trapper’s mind,
Clark apparently directed Samuel Lewis to retain Colter’s east plat,
that is, the Buffalo Bill country, but suppress the western section, the
Yellowstone Lake region. In lieu of Colter’s depiction of the western
loop of his figure eight Clark evidently sent the draft that now appears
on the Map of 1814.
What possible reason can be assigned for this action? It is anybody’s
guess; no one can now determine what Clark thought, but following is a
rational hypothesis: In the close of the year 1811, Andrew Henry and his
men returned from their trapping venture in the Upper Snake River basin.
They had skirted the western border of Wonderland along the line of the
Madison and Gallatin rivers and explored the sources of Henrys Fork of
the Snake River. Yet, Henry had not seen any hot springs, geysers, or
great lakes. No doubt Henry had heard trappers joke about “Colter’s
Hell.” Personally, he showed no confidence in it. Evidently both he and
Clark considered that Henry’s and Colter’s journeys overlapped.
Actually, the Gallatin Range intervened between them. It is reasonable,
therefore, that Henry’s report and attitude affected Clark’s original
belief in Colter’s story. Where he first believed he now doubted.
Perhaps Clark concluded that Colter’s terrible experiences had deranged
his mind. It is certain that Clark sent his new knowledge of the Henrys
Fork country to Biddle in 1812 because it appears on the Map of
1814.[360] It was undoubtedly at this time that Clark sent in his
redrawn, guesswork version of the western portion of Colter’s map. No
one knows exactly what changes Clark made, but the Map of 1814 proves
conclusively that Clark did not depict the “Colter’s Hell” country which
contains the wonders of Yellowstone Park as it was originally presented
to him.
It was a valid reaction for Clark to have become suspicious of Colter’s
reliability, and the substitution of his own geographical speculation
for Colter’s Yellowstone sketch was probably sincere. Clark was too
honest to depict the delusions of an “insane” man. Also he was very
anxious to have a reasonably complete and integrated map. The only
alternatives were to allow the Colter marvel sheet to appear or else to
mark a considerable area “unexplored.” He was caught in the bonds of
uncertainty and made a compromise. The result was a sheet of bogus
geography which is entirely incongruous, not only with the facts, but
with Clark’s uniformly excellent map work.[361]
Clark’s choice of alternatives only complicated the problem of his
cartographer. Lewis no doubt recognized the vast discrepancies between
Colter’s genuine depiction and Clark’s counterfeit so he evidently
decided upon a compromise of his own. How this expert reconciled the
conflicting data of the two map sheets into one pattern is at once a
masterpiece in cartography and psychology. The technique he adopted
might be called “double entry map making.” He used the Yellowstone Lake
part of Colter’s sketch as an element for a concealed map; it appears as
a mountain range. Such a grotesque range cannot be found in any of the
surrounding territory, but when visualized as a lake it is amazing how
it conforms to what a trapper traveling a logical route would have seen
of Yellowstone Lake, namely, the South Arm and Thumb. Lewis shied away
from any clear-cut representation of the geyser region. However, besides
including the disguised lake portion of Colter’s map, he did other
things to “poke fun” at Clark’s speculations. He drew Lake Eustis in the
manner of a gargoyle. It must have been deliberately “satanized.”
Nothing with such a preposterous shape was ever known among men. Why
didn’t Clark revolt at this representation? Surely he never drew
anything like that himself. That is not all of Lewis’ “fun making.” He
drew still another lake and gave it the shape of a deformed piece of
liver. Its appearance is ridiculous in the other extreme,[362] but, as
if to add insult to injury, Mr. Lewis raised a question as to this
lake’s legitimacy. Clark named it Biddle in honor of his patron,
Nicholas Biddle, whereas, upon the English version, the name appearing
is Riddle! Lewis was able to “get away” with this performance because
Clark did not see any proofs, only the published work.
[Illustration: J. N. Barry
“Double-entry” map of Yellowstone.]
[Illustration: Samuel Lewis’ “Double-entry” map. An attempt to
reconcile Colter’s draft of the Yellowstone country with Clark’s
obvious assumptions.]
[Illustration: When segregated these “concealed” elements give a
logical representation of what Colter undoubtedly saw, namely the
southwest arm and thumb of Yellowstone Lake.]
Remembering that Samuel Lewis was employed to reproduce a map conforming
to data and specifications furnished by Clark, what more could he do to
manifest his skepticism, if not displeasure, over the incorporation of
fictitious geography upon this super-important map of the West?
Remember, Lewis was a professional cartographer; he had seen, and had
already drawn, Colter’s sheet of real country. On the original draft the
southwest Arm and Thumb of Lake Yellowstone undoubtedly appeared. Now he
was asked to redraw it into counterfeit geography. Disturbed by the
substitution of Clark’s sheet of “Gulliver’s geography” for Colter’s
journey, he disguised a lake in a mountain range, drew a gargoylian lake
(Eustis), and raised the enigma of Biddle-Riddle.[363] After all,
cartography is simply a scientific refinement of pictography, or
storytelling. The message of Samuel Lewis, as revealed in the
Yellowstone segment of the Map of 1814, might reasonably be: “This
portion of the map is bogus. I do not know what the true conditions are.
Colter’s data appears all right; Clark’s later information says it
isn’t. It’s all a Riddle; I leave a clue.” Against this background, with
the fiction cut away, it may now be possible to explore the problem of
Colter’s route through the Yellowstone country.
Did Colter make a western loop trip beyond the Yep-pe Indian camp? Of
that there can be no doubt. Clark’s representation does not impugn
Colter’s word in respect to the reality of the journey itself but only
as to where he went and what he saw. If an approximation of his route
can be reproduced, the question of what he saw will automatically fall
into place like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The problem, then, is to
correctly reconstruct the west loop of the figure eight. This procedure
has become possible by reason of the proposition that has been
established in this discussion, particularly when it is remembered that
Colter knew his way around and could be relied upon to make a proper
orientation to the total environment. Now his course can be followed by
segregating another feature from what has been referred to as “Lewis’
Concealed Colter Map.”
[Illustration: J. N. Barry
A section of fictitious geography.
A larger section of the Map of 1814 showing Samuel Lewis’ ingenious
combination of Colter’s data, Clark’s guesses and the Cartographer’s
own obvious design to pose a gumption test for students of Western
geographic exploration.]
West of longitude 110° it will be noted that two features stand out in
bold relief, namely, a mitten-shaped mountain labeled FOSSIL (probably
the Trident) and the crude outline of South Arm and Thumb of Yellowstone
Lake. These two landmarks may be used as guide posts in following
Colter’s reconstructed loop through Yellowstone. Colter’s authentic east
loop journey, already described, brought him approximately to the 110°
meridian. Colter’s mitten-shaped landmark lies about seventy-five miles
due west of the border on his second map sheet, but Clark’s dotted line
depicts Colter’s route fifty miles south of the mountain shaped like a
mitten and marked FOSSIL. It is valid to inquire how Colter could
discern its shape or know of its fossils from that distance. His Indian
friends knew nothing about fossils. The dotted line does not cross or
even skirt this mountain. To reach the “Fossil Mountain” from Salt Fork,
Colter could ascend by Elk-Wapiti or Fishhawk creeks. Each meets the
requirements of direction and distance, and there is a good chance that
somewhere along one of these routes a large petrified fish, or something
like a fish, was seen then and may be eventually found. Such a discovery
would remove all doubt about the direction in which he traveled.[364]
[Illustration: Western section of Coulter’s route.
Logic and a reasonable sense of procedure would support this route
as the trail of Coulter’s Yellowstone discovery. Conclusive proof is
lacking.]
From the “Fossil Mountain” Colter probably descended Pass Creek to
Thorofare Creek, which he followed to the Upper Yellowstone River. Then
he might have ascended either Falcon, Lynx, or Atlantic creeks,
preferably the latter, to Two Ocean Pass. Crossing the Continental
Divide, he would then descend Pacific Creek, skirting Big Game Ridge,
and cross the South Fork of Snake River, within the present confines of
the Park. Thence he could go along Chicken Ridge, from where he would
frequently view South Arm, headed toward Flat Mountain Arm. After
crossing Solution Creek he would strike West Thumb.[365] The validity of
this itinerary is wholly sustained by the genuine features of this area
as they appear upon the Map of 1814. Indeed, the route seems obvious and
indisputable in view of the actual conditions existing. On a crude map,
where there are numerous, similar streams, various combinations are, of
course, possible.
Leaving West Thumb, Colter would have circled the lake to its outlet and
followed it to the Hayden Valley thermal area. Dragons Mouth and Mud
Volcano were undoubtedly features that contributed to the vivid
impression he carried away and transmitted to others. Even the “Hot
Spring Brimstone” characterization on the Map of 1814 mildly suggests
explosive thermal activity. The phrase also suggests that Colter mapped
a geyser basin.[366]
Colter’s return route from the area near the outlet of Yellowstone River
supplies the final link in the figure eight. To reach the Yep-pe Indian
camp he might have veered to the northeast, crossed Yellowstone River at
the ford below Mud Volcano, and ascended Pelican Creek or one of the
tributaries of the Lamar River. After crossing the Absarokas he
evidently descended one of the creeks that empty into Clarks Fork. No
one on earth can be certain about this part of his journey. There is no
reference anywhere, and the Map of 1814 gives no clue. Still he did
reach a tributary of Clarks Fork which he followed to its junction with
Dead Indian Creek, thence to the Yep-pe band.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
In the preparation of the first four chapters the use of explorer and
trapper journals was imperative. The _Journals of Lewis and Clark_,
Patrick Gass’s _Journal_, and Robert Stuart’s _Discovery of the Oregon
Trail_ are basic.
Trapper activities and Indian life are effectively treated by Stallo
Vinton in _John Colter_; Alexander Ross, _The Fur Hunters of the Far
West_; Hiram Chittenden, _The American Fur Trade_; John Neihardt, _The
Splendid Wayfaring_; J. Cecil Alter, _Jim Bridger, Trapper,
Frontiersman, Scout and Guide_; Bernard De Voto, _Across the Wide
Missouri_; and Robert Vaughn, _Then and Now_. A correct conception of
original Indian life and character will reward the student of Rudolph
Kurz’s _Journal_ and Washington Irving’s two volumes: _The Adventures of
Captain Bonneville_ and _Astoria_. George Catlin’s monumental treatise
on _North American Indians_ is also a classic on that subject.
Important in the field of writings dealing with the partial and final
discovery of Yellowstone are Nathaniel P. Langford, _Discovery of
Yellowstone Park 1870_, together with the shorter accounts of his
companions as recorded in Louis C. Crampton’s _Early History of
Yellowstone National Park and Its Relations to National Park Policies_.
The Yellowstone explorations of James Stuart and Walter W. DeLacy and
others are found in _Contributions to the Historical Society of
Montana_, volumes one to five inclusive.
John G. White’s scholarly manuscript entitled “A Souvenir of Wyoming”
contains much material of a provocative character. Nice points of detail
are raised concerning John Colter’s route and other trapper visitations.
The chapter on “Travel and Accommodations—New Businesses” was the result
of a search through the standard magazines covering the half century
from 1870 to 1920. The State College of Washington collection was found
adequate for this survey.
It would be impossible to write the story of the Park’s administration
without a review of all the _Annual Reports of the Acting
Superintendents, and Superintendents of Yellowstone National Park_. The
Park Library has a complete file from 1872 to the present time. In
addition, the _Reports of the Secretary of the Interior_ and the
_Reports of the Director of National Parks_, covering the same period,
were essential cross references in this effort. A complete set of these
reports is available at the State College of Washington. A perusal of
the soldier (scout) diaries in the Park Library gave the substance for
the discussion of that interesting phase.
Among guide books _The Haynes Guide_ is in a class by itself. It is not
only an invaluable hand book to the casual tourist, but it is an
excellent encyclopedia for research.
The Earl of Dunraven’s _Hunting in the Yellowstone_ affords an excellent
narrative from the standpoint of measuring the progress of all phases of
Park activity.
_Yellowstone Nature Notes_ is the best source for those sprightly
experiences that make life so interesting and pleasant in the Park.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
MANUSCRIPT MATERIAL
Anderson, E. C. Diary 1909. Park Library, Mammoth, Wyoming.
Anderson, Henry. Diary 1910, 1911. Park Library.
Brown, Jesse R. Diary 1909, 1910. Park Library.
Burgess, Felix. Diary 1898, 1899. Park Library.
Cook, C. W. “Remarks of C. W. Cook, Last Survivor of the Original
Explorers of the Yellowstone Park Region.” Park Library.
Dorrity, Mrs. James. “Story of the Battle of Bear’s Paw.” M. D. Beal
Collection, Idaho State College, Pocatello, Idaho.
Fitzgerald, S. M. Diary 1907. Park Library, Mammoth, Wyoming.
Graham, S. D. Diary 1906, 1907, 1908. Park Library.
Harlan, W. B. “The Fiasco at Fort Fizzle—1936.” M. D. Beal Collection.
Holmes, W. H. Extracts from the Diary 1872, 1878. Park Library, Mammoth,
Wyoming.
Langford, Nathaniel P. Diary, Second Trip to Yellowstone 1872. Park
Library.
Little, Raymond G. Diary 1911, 1912. Park Library.
Louck, D. J. Journal in Manuscript. State Historian’s Office, Laramie,
Wyoming.
Martin, Louis. Diary 1900, 1901. Park Library, Mammoth, Wyoming.
Mason, John E. Diary 1909. Park Library.
Matlock, Jesse M. “Dictation.” M. D. Beal Collection.
Morrison, James. Diary 1897, 1898, 1899. Park Library, Mammoth, Wyoming.
McBride, James. Diary 1908, 1909, 1910, 1911, 1912. Park Library.
Peale, A. C. Diary of Field Operations, U. S. Geological Survey 1872.
(Three volumes.) Park Library.
Phillips, Ulrich B. “Lectures on Early America.” (Notes taken by the
author at the University of California in 1933.)
Rubin, Walter. Diary 1911. Park Library, Mammoth, Wyoming.
Shambow, Louie. “Story of the Battle of Bear’s Paw.” M. D. Beal
Collection.
Titus, N. C. “Story of Colonel Miles’ Attack on the Nez Percé Camp.” M.
D. Beal Collection.
Thompson, Captain. U. S. A. “Memorandum of a Trip from Fort Ellis,
Montana Territory to Yellowstone Park.” (Sept. 1882.) Park
Library, Mammoth, Wyoming.
Trischman, Harry. Diary 1909, 1910, 1912. Park Library, Mammoth,
Wyoming.
Wall, M. J. Diary. Park Library.
White, John G. “A Souvenir of Wyoming.” (One of eight typed copies of a
trip made in 1916.) Park Library.
White, Mable McClain. “Dictation.” M. D. Beal Collection.
Wilson, Charley. Diary 1910. Park Library, Mammoth, Wyoming.
Wilson, James. Diary 1907, 1908. Park Library.
Whittaker, George. Diary 1897, 1898, 1899, 1900. Park Library.
PRINTED JOURNALS, DIARIES AND AUTOBIOGRAPHIES
Bradbury, John. _Travels in the Interior Of America, 1809, 1810, and
1811._ London: Sherwood Neeley, and Jones, 1819.
Carson, Kit. _Autobiography._ Chicago: Lakeside Press, 1935.
_Contributions_, Historical Society of Montana, I, II, III, IV, V.
Helena, Montana: Rocky Mountain Publishing Co., 1876.
Dunraven, The Earl of. _Hunting in the Yellowstone._ New York: The
Macmillan Co., 1925.
Egan, Howard. _Pioneering the West._ Egan Estate. Richmond, Utah.
Ferris, Warren A. _Life in the Rocky Mountains, 1830-35._ Salt Lake
City: Rocky Mountain Book Shop, 1940.
Folsom, David E. _The Folsom-Cook Exploration of the Upper Yellowstone._
St. Paul: H. L. Collins Co., 1894.
Gass, Patrick. _Journal._ Edited by James K. Hosmer, Chicago: A. C.
McClurg and Co., 1904.
Guie, Heister D. and McWhorter, L. V., editors. _Adventures in Geyser
Land_ by Frank D. Carpenter. Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton Printers,
1935.
Howard, General O. O. _Chief Joseph, His Pursuit and Capture._ Boston:
Lee and Shephard, 1881.
Jackson, William H. _Time Exposure._ New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons,
1940.
Kurz, Rudolph. _Journal._ Washington, D. C.: United States Government
Printing Office, 1937.
Langford, Nathaniel P. _The Discovery of Yellowstone Park 1870._ St.
Paul: J. E. Haynes Publisher, 1923.
Larocque, Francis Antoine. _Journal._ Sources of Northwest History, No.
20, University of Montana, Missoula.
McWhorter, Lucullus V. _Yellow Wolf: His Own Story._ Caldwell, Idaho:
Caxton Printers, 1940.
Norton, Harry J. _Wonderland Illustrated, or Horse Back Rides._ Virginia
City, Montana: Harry J. Norton, 1873.
Osmond, Mabel C. _Memories of a Trip Through Yellowstone National Park._
St. Louis, 1874.
Raftery, John H. _The Story of the Yellowstone._ Butte, Montana: McKee
Printing Co., 1912.
Ross, Alexander. _The Fur Hunters of the Far West._ London: Smith, Elder
& Co., 1855.
Russell, Osborne. _Journal of a Trapper, 1834-1843._ Boise, Idaho:
Syms-York Co., 1921.
Smith, Willard E. “An Excerpt from the Journal of Willard E. Smith,
1839-1840.” Edited by J. Neilson Barry. _Annals of Wyoming_, Vol.
XV, No. 3, July, 1943.
Spalding, Elizabeth. _Memories of the West._ Portland, Oregon: March
Printing Co.
Stanley, Edwin J. _Rambles in Wonderland._ New York: D. Appleton & Co.,
1878.
Stuart, Granville. _Forty Years on the Frontier._ Cleveland, Ohio: A. H.
Clark, 1925.
Stuart, Robert. _The Discovery of the Oregon Trail._ New York: Charles
Scribner’s Sons, 1935.
Synge, Georgina. _A Ride Through Wonderland._ London: Sampson Low,
Marston & Co., 1892.
Turrill, Gardner S. _A Tale of the Yellowstone._ Jefferson, Iowa: G. S.
Turrill Publishing Co., 1901.
Vaughn, Robert. _Then and Now._ Minneapolis: Tribune Printing Co., 1900.
Wingate, George W. _Through Yellowstone Park on Horseback._ New York: O.
Judd Co., 1886.
Wislizenus, F. A. _A Journey to the Rocky Mountains in 1839_. St. Louis,
Mo.: Missouri Historical Society, 1912.
ARTICLES IN MAGAZINES AND PERIODICALS
Baker, Ray S. “A Place of Marvels,” _The Century Magazine_, LXVI
(August, 1903).
Bauer, C. Max. “Notes on Indian Occupancy,” _Yellowstone Nature Notes_,
Vol. XII, No. 6 (June, 1935).
Bryce, James. “National Parks the Need for the Future,” _The Outlook_,
CII (Dec. 14, 1912).
Cook, C. W. “Valley of the Upper Yellowstone,” _Western Monthly_, IV
(July, 1870).
Cook, C. W. and Folsom, D. E. “Cook-Folsom Expedition to the Yellowstone
Region 1869,” _Haynes Bulletin_, Jan., 1923.
Elmendorf, Dwight L. _The Mentor_, II (May 15, 1915).
Everts, Truman C. “Thirty Seven Days of Peril,” _Scribner’s Monthly_,
III (Nov., 1871).
Freeman, L. R. “Protect the Game in Yellowstone Park,” _Recreation_, XV
(Dec. 1901).
Ghent, W. J. “A Sketch of John Colter,” _Wyoming Annals_, Vol. X, No. 3
(July, 1938).
Gibbon, Colonel John. “The Battle of the Big Hole,” _Harper’s Weekly_
(Dec. 21, 1895).
Hague, Arnold. “Soaping Geysers,” _Science_, XIII (May 17, 1889).
Hague, Arnold. “The Yellowstone National Park,” _Scribner’s_, XXXV (May,
1904).
Hayden, F. V. “More About the Yellowstone,” _Scribner’s Monthly_, III
(February, 1872).
Hayden, F. V. “The Yellowstone National Park,” _American Journal of
Science_, III (March, 1872; April, 1872).
Haynes, Jack Ellis. “The Expedition of President Chester A. Arthur to
Yellowstone National Park in 1882,” _Annals of Wyoming_ (January
1942.).
Heffelfinger, C. H. “The Man Who Turned Back,” _The Washington
Historical Quarterly_, Vol. XXVI, No. 3 (July, 1935).
Hough, Emerson. “Forest and Stream’s Yellowstone Park Game Exploration,”
_Forest and Stream_, XLIII (A series of thirteen articles in the
issues during the spring and summer of 1894).
Jackson, W. Turrentine. “The Creation of Yellowstone National Park,”
_The Mississippi Valley Historical Review_, Vol. XXIX, No. 2
(September, 1942).
Jackson, W. Turrentine. “The Cook-Folsom Exploration of the Upper
Yellowstone 1869,” _The Pacific Northwest Quarterly_, XXXII, 1941.
Jagger, T. A. “Death Gulch, A Natural Bear Trap,” _Popular Science_, LIV
(February, 1899).
Joseph, Chief. “Own Story,” _North American Review_ (April, 1879).
Kearns, William E. “A Nez Percé Chief Revisits Yellowstone,”
_Yellowstone Nature Notes_, XII (July-August, 1935).
Knowlton, F. H. “The Tertiary Flowers of the Yellowstone National Park,”
_American Journal of Science_, No. 7 (July, 1896).
Knowlton, F. H. “The Standing Fossil Forests of the Yellowstone National
Park,” _Plant World_, I (January, 1898).
Koch, P. “Discovery of the Yellowstone National Park,” _Magazine of
American History_, II (June, 1884).
Langford, Nathaniel P. “The Ascent of Mount Hayden,” _Scribner’s
Monthly_, III (June, 1873).
Lewis, Henry H. “Managing a National Park,” _The Outlook_, LXXIV
(August, 1903).
Lewis, Lucien M. “To the Old Stage Driver,” _Overland Monthly_, LXIX
(July, 1917).
Linton, Edwin. “Overland Sounds in the Vicinity of Yellowstone Lake,”
_Science_, No. 561 (Nov. 3, 1893).
Muir, John. “The Yellowstone National Park,” _The Atlantic Monthly_,
LXXXI (January, 1898; April, 1898).
Phillips, Paul C., editor. “The Battle of the Big Hole,” _Sources of
Northwest History_, No. 8, University of Montana, Missoula.
Rollins, Alice W. “The Three Tetons,” _Harper’s_, LXXIV (May, 1887).
Russell, Carl P. “Rendezvous Period of American Fur Trade,” _Oregon
Historical Quarterly_, XLII (March, 1941).
Russell, Carl P. “Scientists and Scientific Investigations in
Yellowstone National Park,” Department of the Interior, 1933.
Sedgwick, Henry D. “On Horse Back Through Yellowstone,” _World’s Work_,
VI (June, 1903).
Smith, George O. “The Nation’s Playgrounds,” _Review of Reviews_, XL
(July, 1909).
Staffer, Alvin P. and Porter, Charles W. “The National Park Service
Program of Conservation for Areas and Structures of National
Historical Significance,” _The Mississippi Valley Historical
Review_, XXX, 1 (June, 1943).
Warner, Charles D. “The Yellowstone National Park,” _Harper’s_, XCIV
(January, 1897).
GOVERNMENT REPORTS AND PUBLICATIONS
Barlow, J. W. and Heap, D. P. _Report of Barlow and Heap 1871_.
Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1872.
_Congressional Globe._ 42 Congress, 2nd Session, 1871-72. Part I,
Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1872.
_Congressional Record._ 43 Congress, Session I, Washington, D.C.:
Government Printing Office, 1874.
_Laws and Regulations_ relating to the Yellowstone National Park,
Wyoming, by the Secretary of the Interior. Washington, D.C.:
Government Printing Office, 1908.
Ludlow, William. _Report to the War Department 1875._ Washington, D.C.,
1876.
Mather, Stephen T. “Report of the Director of the National Park
Service,” _Report of the Department of Interior 1918_. Washington,
D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1918.
Norris, P. W. _Annual Report of the Superintendent of Yellowstone
National Park._ Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office,
1878, 1879, 1880, 1881.
_Reports of the Acting Superintendent of the Yellowstone National Park._
Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1885 to 1915.
_Reports of the Secretary of the Interior._ Washington, D.C.: Government
Printing Office, 1872 to 1941.
_Reports of the Superintendents of Yellowstone National Park._
Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1917 to 1943.
_Rules, Regulations and Instructions_ for the officers and enlisted men
of the United States Army, and of the scouts doing duty in the
Yellowstone National Park. Department of Interior, Washington,
D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1907.
Sherman, W. T. and Sheridan, P. H. _Reports of Inspection Made in the
Summer of 1877._ Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office,
1878.
_Yellowstone National Park Bulletins._ Department of the Interior,
Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1914, 1915, 1916,
1918, 1923, 1939, 1940, 1941.
SPECIAL BOOKS AND BULLETINS
Allen, Eugene T. and Day, Arthur L. _Hot Springs of the Yellowstone
National Park._ Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Institution, 1935.
Alter, J. Cecil. _James Bridger, Trapper, Frontiersman, Scout and
Guide._ Salt Lake City: Shepard Book Co., 1925.
Arnold, Ross R. _Indian Wars in Idaho._ Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton
Printers, 1929.
Bennett, Hugh H. “Thomas Jefferson Soil Conservationist.” _U.S.
Department of Agriculture_, No. 548. Washington, D.C.: Government
Printing Office, 1944.
Catlin, George. _North American Indians_, I, II. Philadelphia: Leary
Stuart and Co., 1913.
Crampton, Louis C. _Early History of Yellowstone National Park and Its
Relations to National Park Policies._ Washington, D.C.: United
States Printing Office, 1923.
DeSmet, P. J. _Oregon Missions and Travels Over the Rocky Mountains._
New York: Edward Dreneger, 1847.
De Voto, Bernard. _Across the Wide Missouri._ Boston: Houghton Mifflin
Co., 1947.
Drew, Benjamin. _Souvenir List of Yellowstone Park Holdup Victims._ Park
Library, Mammoth, Wyoming.
Fee, Chester Anders. _Chief Joseph, the Biography of a Great Indian._
New York: Wilson-Erickson, 1936.
Freeman, Lewis R. _Down the Yellowstone._ New York: Dodd, Mead and Co.,
1922.
Goad, Edgar F. “Bandelier, Scholar of the Mesas.” Washington, D.C.:
_Department of Interior Information Service_, 1940.
Haines, Francis. _Red Eagles of the Northwest._ Portland, Oregon: The
Scholastic Press, 1939.
Harris, Burton. _John Colter, His Years in the Rockies._ New York:
Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1952.
Hebard, Grace R. and Brininstool, E. A. _The Bozeman Trail._ Cleveland,
Ohio: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1922.
Hemishunmeres, Mourning Dove. _Coyote Stories._ Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton
Printers, 1933.
Hornaday, William T. _Our Vanishing Wild Life._ New York: New York
Zoological Society, 1913.
Huth, Hans. Yosemite, _The Story of an Idea._ Reprint from the _Sierra
Club Bulletin_, March, 1948.
Kieley, James F. _A Brief History of the National Park Service._
Washington, D.C.: United States Department of Interior, 1940.
Lillard, Richard G. _The Great Forest._ New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1948.
Linderman, Frank B. _Blackfeet Indians._ St. Paul: Brown, Bigelow, 1935.
Lowie, Robert H. _The Crow Indians._ New York: Farrar and Rinehart,
1935.
Mickey, Karl B. _Man and Soil._ Chicago: International Harvester Co.,
1945.
Mulford, Walter. _Forest Influences._ New York: McGraw Hill Book Co.,
1948.
Neihardt, John G. _The Splendid Wayfaring._ New York: Macmillan Co.,
1920.
Norton, Harry J. _Wonderland, or Horseback Rides Through Yellowstone
National Park._ Virginia City, Montana, 1873.
Rees, John E. _Idaho, Its Meaning, Origin and Application._ Portland,
Oregon: Ivey Press, 1917.
Remington, Fredrick. _Pony Tracks._ New York: Harper and Bros., 1895.
Shields, G. O. _Battle of the Big Hole._ New York: Rand, McNally Co.,
1889.
Story, Isabelle F. _Glimpses of Our National Parks._ Washington, D.C.:
United States Printing Office, 1941.
Topping, E. S. _Chronicles of the Yellowstone._ St. Paul: Pioneer Press
Co., 1888.
Van Tassell, Chas. _Truthful Lies._ Bozeman, Montana, 1921.
Victor, Frances Fuller. _The River of the West._ Hartford, Conn.:
Columbian Book Co., 1871.
Vinton, Stallo. _John Colter, Discoverer of Yellowstone Park._ New York:
Edward Eberstadt, 1926.
Wagner, Glendolin and Allen, William. _Blankets and Moccasins._
Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton Printers, 1933.
Wellman, Paul I. _The Trampling Herd._ New York: Carrick and Evans,
Inc., 1939.
GENERAL SECONDARY REFERENCES
Adams, James Truslow. _The Epic of America._ Boston: Little Brown and
Co., 1933.
Bancroft, H. H. _History of Washington, Montana and Idaho._ San
Francisco: The History Company, 1896.
Beal, M. D. _History of Southeastern Idaho._ Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton
Printers, 1942.
Brockett, L. P. _Our Western Empire._ San Francisco: William Garretson
and Co., 1881.
Chittenden, Hiram M. _The American Fur Trade._ New York: Press of the
Pioneers, 1935.
Chittenden, Hiram M. _Yellowstone National Park._ Palo Alto, California:
Stanford University Press, 1933.
Clark, Dan Elbert. _The West in American History._ New York: Thomas Y.
Crowell Co., 1937.
Driggs, Howard R. _Westward America._ New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons,
1942.
Gardiner, Dorothy. _West of the River._ New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Co.,
1941.
Guptill, A. B. _Practical Guide to Yellowstone National Park._ St. Paul:
F. Jay Haynes and Bro., 1890.
Hafen, LeRoy, and Rister, Carl C. _Western America._ New York:
Prentice-Hall, 1941.
Haupt, Herman. _The Yellowstone National Park._ St. Paul: J. M.
Stoddart, 1883.
Haynes, Jack Ellis. _Haynes Guide._ St. Paul: Haynes, Inc., 1943.
Hockett, Homer Co. _Political and Social Growth of the United States
1492-1852._ New York: The Macmillan Co., 1933.
Irving, Washington. _Astoria._ New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons.
Kipling, Rudyard. _American Notes._ Issued in several editions. One
chapter contains an account of a trip through Yellowstone in 1889.
Nevins, Allen. _Frémont: Pathmaker of the West._ New York: D. Appleton
Century Co., 1939.
Paxson, Frederick L. _The Last American Frontier._ New York: Macmillan
Co., 1922.
Sanders, Helen F. _History of Montana._ Chicago: The Lewis Publishing
Co., 1913.
Walgamott, C. S. _Six Decades Back._ Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton Printers,
1936.
Yellowstone Park Scrap Books I, II, III. Park Library, Mammoth, Wyoming.
FOOTNOTES
[1]The forests are composed principally of conifers. Of these the
lodgepole pine predominates. It has a shallow root system, and as a
result the area is conspicuous by the amount of fallen timber.
[2]A frontiersman’s characterization of the climate in the Park. The
statement is usually attributed to James Stuart.
[3]John E. Rees, _Idaho Chronology, Nomenclature, Bibliography_
(Portland, Oregon: Ivey Press, 1917), p. 61.
[4]Teton and Snowy ranges, although partly integrated with Yellowstone,
actually lie beyond the south and north borders respectively.
[5]The plateaus are Buffalo, Mirror, Two Ocean, Pitchstone, Madison, and
Central. The ranges are Gallatin, Washburn, and Absaroka. The ridges
include the Big Game, Chicken, Speciman, and Crowfoot. The Red
Mountains form a unit by themselves in the south-central area.
[6]These are Electric, Pollux, Atkins, and Eagle peaks, and Schurz and
Humphreys mountains.
[7]Warm River originates west of the Park, but Firehole is the best
example of a really warm river. It does not freeze over in
temperatures 50° below zero. There are literally thousands of hot
springs in Yellowstone. Dr. A. C. Peale estimated three thousand,
while Dr. Arnold Hague said the number probably exceeded twenty-five
hundred.
[8]Reference to this stream is made again in relation to the “Overland
Astorians” in Chapter II. See also, Dee Linford’s “Wyoming Stream
Names,” _Annals of Wyoming_, XV, 2 (April, 1943), 165-70.
[9]These sources are the Firehole and Gibbon, respectively.
[10]This is the lowest temperature ever recorded on an official United
States Weather Bureau thermometer in Continental United States.
[11]John E. Rees, _op. cit._, p. 61.
[12]Homer C. Hockett, _Political and Social Growth of the United States
1492-1852_ (New York: Macmillan Co., 1933), p. 368.
[13]_Ibid._, p. 369.
[14]_Ibid._, p. 371.
[15]Fridtjof Nansen, “The Norsemen in America,” _The Geographical
Journal_, XXXVIII, 6 (Dec. 1911), 558.
[16]Reuben G. Thwaites, _Original Journals of the Lewis and Clark
Expedition 1804-1806_ (New York: Dodd Mead and Co., 1905), p. 262.
Clark reached Yellowstone River on July 15, 1806.
[17]Francis Antoine Larocque, _Journal_ (Sources of Northwest History
No. 20, University of Montana), p. 20. Dee Linford says the name
Yellowstone was used by David Thompson in 1798, but that Americans
did not learn about the river until about 1805. See “Wyoming Stream
Names,” _Annals of Wyoming_, XV, 3 (July, 1943), 269.
[18]Patrick Gass, _Journal_ (Chicago: A. C. McClurg, 1904), p. 253. In
1832 a steamboat named the “Yellowstone” arrived at Fort Union.
[19]P. Koch, “Discovery of Yellowstone National Park,” _Magazine of
American History_, II (June, 1884), 498.
[20]Just how far Coronado penetrated the Rockies is a disputed point. It
is certain that Verendrye reached Pierre, South Dakota. Some contend
that he came as far as the Little Bighorn River. It is probable that
some of Henry’s men were free trappers, which accounts for the fact
that they split in groups when the fort was abandoned.
[21]Others to participate in this discovery were Milton Mangum, Clifford
Mangum, John T. Elliott, Budge Elliott, William Thornock, and David
Beal.
[22]Robert Stuart, _The Discovery of the Oregon Trail_ (New York:
Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1935), p. CXXXVI. Etienne Provot and Thomas
Fitzpatrick have both been credited with the discovery of South
Pass. Certainly the latter’s visit in 1824 marks the date of
effective discovery.
[23]W. J. Ghent, “A Sketch of John Colter,” _Wyoming Annals_, X, 3
(July, 1938).
[24]Stallo Vinton, _John Colter, Discoverer of Yellowstone Park_ (New
York: Edward Eberstadt, 1926), p. 27.
[25]W. J. Ghent, _op. cit._ The copious journals of Lewis, Clark and
Sergeant Ordway make repeated mention of Colter, and Whitehouse
names him six times. Floyd does not mention him by name nor does
Gass, although the latter refers to him specifically.
[26]Reuben G. Thwaites, _op. cit._, V, 314.
[27]Stallo Vinton, _op. cit._, p. 24.
[28]_Ibid._, p. 43. Colter’s strange behavior in turning back to the
wilderness after three successive starts toward home, is analyzed by
C. H. Heffelfinger in his article, “The Man Who Turned Back,” _The
Washington Historical Quarterly_, XXVI, 3 (July, 1935).
[29]_Ibid._, p. 45. Lisa had a son named “Remon” for whom the fort was
named, but different documents bear the name Raymond, Manuel, and
Lisa.
[30]Judge Henry M. Brackenridge (1786-1871) was educated in Missouri and
Maryland. As a lawyer, he specialized in international affairs and
served as a federal judge in New Orleans. In 1810 he made a trip up
the Missouri in the company of Manuel Lisa. Six years later (1814)
Brackenridge’s account of this journey was published. On page 91, of
_Views of Louisiana_, we find the first reference to Colter’s
wilderness journey. Obviously the source of this information was
Manuel Lisa since he asked Colter to make the trip. That Colter
started on such a journey is indisputable. Where he went, what he
saw, and how he returned are matters of opinion. Brackenridge
confuses Colter’s return from this trip with that of another one.
[31]_Ibid._, p. 91.
[32]John Colter’s discovery of Yellowstone has caught the imagination of
many people. Probably a hundred authors have written about it. Each
one disagrees with the other, until poor Colter has been turned into
a human grasshopper, hopping around from place to place without
either rhyme or reason.
[33]Stallo Vinton, _op. cit._, p. 195.
[34]Some writers tell that an early winter overtook him, and he was
obliged to make snowshoes. This is probably an error. He undoubtedly
secured a horse from the Yep-pe Indians.
[35]This particular story is verified by the fact that members of the
Wilson Price Hunt Expedition called on Colter at his farm near St.
Louis to get information upon this specific point. See Reuben G.
Thwaites, “Bradbury’s Travels in the Interior of America in the
years 1809-1811,” _Early Western Travels_, 1748-1840, V, xliv.
[36]The Map of 1814 does not disclose anything unusual. It merely
designates “Boiling Spring” and “Hot Springs Brimstone,” which were
widespread and general.
[37]Washington Irving, _The Adventures of Captain Bonneville_ (New York:
G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1843), p. 252. The first edition was entitled,
_Rocky Mountain Scenes and Adventures_.
[38]It is a remarkable thing that historical research has not more
satisfactorily probed the Colter problem. Obviously his journey is
so obscure as to warrant scientific investigation.
[39]Its legend reads: “A Map of Lewis and Clark’s Track, Across the
Western Portion of North America, From the Mississippi to the
Pacific Ocean; By Order of the Executive of the United States in
1804, 5, 6. Copied by Samuel Lewis from the Original Drawing of Wm.
Clark.”
[40]There are two fictitious lakes on the Map of 1814 of such grotesque
shape as to arouse one’s skepticism. One of them has a shape that
resembles a gargoyle.
[41]The date of this communication was December 20, 1810.
[42]Colter’s first sheet is readily identifiable, and part of another
sheet may be segregated with the use of imagination and
understanding.
[43]Many writers have failed to identify Gap and Sage as the same creek.
They also befuddle Wind and Shoshone rivers. There is no evidence
that Colter ever heard the name Bighorn River.
[44]The figure eight results from the fact that he went to the Yep-pe
camp, left it, came back, and left it again at the appropriate
angles.
[45]In 1941, Paul J. Shamp, a U.S. forester, reported the discovery of
numerous petrifications in the vicinity of Pass and Scatter creeks
in the Thorofare country. This is the line of Colter’s route.
[46]Colter did not see Southeast Arm of Yellowstone Lake. He probably
supposed the Upper Yellowstone flowed into South Arm. Hence, his
conception of Yellowstone River would have been ten miles farther
west than it is. Neither could he have visualized the serpentine
character of Snake River, since he knew it at only one place.
[47]Colter may have reached Chicken Ridge by Fishhawk, Mountain, or Lynx
creeks or via Falcon, Mink, or Crooked streams. It must be
remembered that this map sheet has been much messed up. It is
impossible to know what has been erased; yet, enough of Colter’s map
remains to provide a logical basis for the above itinerary. It is
relatively unimportant which creeks he negotiated to reach Chicken
Ridge. The vitally important fact is that he drew a sketch of South
Arm from that angle which added to the Thumb makes an accurate map
of what a trapper would have seen of Yellowstone Lake.
[48]J. Neilson Barry has made the most intensive study of the Map of
1814. It is his opinion that Colter drew other map sheets besides
the one of the Buffalo Bill country. He also has hope that these
sheets may be discovered among the Lewis-Clark-Biddle papers.
[49]In E. Willard Smith’s journal entry for December 20, 1839, there is
an item that suggests a possible clue to mystery of Colter’s
petrified fish story: “There is a story told by an Arapahoe Chief of
a petrified buffalo standing in the lake ... in a perfect state of
preservation, and they worship it as a great medicine charm....
Nothing would induce this Indian to tell where this sacred buffalo
is to be found. Great presents were offered him in vain.” It is
possible that Colter saw something he was not free to divulge. See
“An Excerpt From the Journal of Willard E. Smith,” _Annals of
Wyoming_, XV, 3 (July, 1943), 287-97.
[50]John G. White, “A Souvenir of Wyoming,” Vol. I, p. 56. This is a
fine work of research in manuscript. It was written in 1916. There
are five volumes in the Yellowstone Park library. The time of this
Indian episode was in the autumn of 1808.
[51]_Ibid._
[52]Upon the details of this episode, the three basic authorities on
this period of Western adventure, are in agreement. They are Henry
M. Brackenridge, _Views of Louisiana_; Thomas James, _Three Years
Among the Indians and Mexicans_; and John Bradbury, _Travels In the
Interior of America_.
[53]Concerning Colter’s part in this battle, Henry M. Brackenridge
wrote, “On his return a party of Indians in whose company he
happened to be was attacked and he was lamed by a severe wound in
his leg; Notwithstanding which he returned to the establishment
entirely alone and without assistance.” This incident is almost
invariably associated with Colter’s return from the discovery of
Yellowstone Park. The error logically arises from the compressed
character of the Brackenridge narrative. Perhaps the facts were not
clear in his own mind. Actually he has confused two different
experiences.
[54]P. Koch, “The Discovery of Yellowstone National Park,” _Magazine of
American History_, II (June, 1884), 499.
[55]Hiram M. Chittenden, _Yellowstone National Park_ (Palo Alto:
Stanford University Press, 1933), pp. 22-31.
[56]Frank Triplett, “Colter’s Race for Life,” _Conquering the
Wilderness_, No. 16, Chapter 10, Washington State College Library;
Pullman, Washington. This plant is also called “ground-apple.” It is
an edible root found in that region.
[57]W. J. Ghent, _op. cit._, p. 113.
[58]John G. White, “A Souvenir of Wyoming,” I, 28. This fact is affirmed
by James in his _Three Years Among the Indians and Mexicans_.
[59]W. J. Ghent, _op. cit._, p. 115.
[60]Stallo Vinton, _op. cit._, p. 110.
[61]W. J. Ghent, _op. cit._, p. 115. The evidence is not conclusive as
to whether or not Colter gave his account to Bradbury and
Brackenridge in person. It is certain that he had personal dealings
with Thomas James, and it is certain that he spent a half day in
conversation with members of Hunt’s party on May 18, 1811. See
“Robert Stuart’s Narratives” in Philip Ashton Rollin’s _The
Discovery of the Oregon Trail_ (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons,
1935), p. CV.
[62]_Ibid._, p. 66. It should be pointed out that Colter did not say
“everywhere.”
[63]Rudolph Kurz, _Journal_ (Washington, D. C.: United States Government
Printing Office, 1937), p. 37.
[64]Frank B. Linderman, _Blackfeet Indians_ (St. Paul: Brown, Bigelow,
1935), p. 9.
[65]_Ibid._, p. 12.
[66]Elizabeth Spalding, _Memories of The West_ (Portland, Oregon: March
Printing Company), p. 78.
[67]Robert Vaughn, _Then and Now_ (Minneapolis, Minnesota: Tribune
Printing Co., 1900), p. 197.
[68]Mourning Dove, _Coyote Stories_ (Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton Printers,
1933). p. 46.
[69]Rudolph Kurz, _op. cit._, p. 154.
[70]_Ibid._, p. 34.
[71]Alexander Ross, _The Fur Hunters of The Far West_ (London: Smith,
Elder & Co., 1855), p. 249.
[72]H. M. Chittenden, _The American Fur Trade_ (New York: Press of the
Pioneers, 1935), II, 877.
[73]P. Koch, “The Discovery of Yellowstone National Park,” _Magazine of
American History, II_ (June, 1884), 497.
[74]Helen F. Sanders, _History of Montana_ (Chicago: Lewis Publishing
Co., 1913), I, 681.
[75]_Contributions_, Historical Society of Montana (Helena, Montana:
Rocky Mountain Publishing Co., 1876), I, 168.
[76]Indian reservations nearest the Park are the Crow at Hardin,
Montana; Shoshone, Fort Washakie, Wyoming; and Bannock, Fort Hall,
Idaho. Other agencies are located at Fort Peck, Poplar, Tongue
River, and Lame Deer, all in Montana. The Blackfeet and Flathead
reservations are near Glacier Park.
[77]Alexander Ross, _op. cit._, p. 48.
[78]John G. Neihardt, _The Splendid Wayfaring_ (New York: Macmillan
Company, 1920), pp. 265-6.
[79]Alexander Ross, _op. cit._, pp. 228-9.
[80]Francis Fuller Victor, _The River of the West_ (Hartford: Columbian
Book Co., 1871), pp. 64-5.
[81]Cecil Alter, _James Bridger, Trapper, Frontiersman, Scout and Guide_
(Salt Lake City: Shepard Book Co., 1925), p. 355.
[82]Helen F. Sanders, _op. cit._, p. 141.
[83]Earl of Dunraven, _Hunting in the Yellowstone_ (New York: Macmillan
Co., 1925), pp. 184-5.
[84]Frances Fuller Victor, _op. cit._, p. 238.
[85]F. A. Wislizenus, _A Journey To The Rocky Mountains In 1839_, (St.
Louis: Missouri Historical Society, 1912), pp. 87-8.
[86]Alexander Ross, _op. cit._, II, 236.
[87]C. Max Bauer, “Notes on Indian Occupancy,” _Yellowstone Nature
Notes_. XII, 6 (June, 1935), 1.
[88]P. W. Norris, _Annual Report 1879_ (Washington D. C.: Government
Printing Office, 1880), p. 10.
[89]P. W. Norris, _Annual Report 1880_, p. 605.
[90]Some of these places were specifically listed: Bunsen Peak, Willow
Creek, Stinking Water Pass east of Yellowstone Lake, Barlow Fork of
Snake River, Bridgers Lake, and, the best one of all, three miles
below Mary Lake. See _Fifth Annual Report 1881_, p. 36.
[91]P. W. Norris, _Fifth Annual Report 1881_, pp. 32-8.
[92]_Ibid._, p. 38.
[93]P. W. Norris, _Annual Report 1878_, p. 982.
[94]Experienced rangers who have reported these finds to the author
include David deL. Condon, Lee L. Coleman, John W. Jay, John Bauman,
Rudolf L. Grimm, Wayne Replogle, Lowell G. Biddulph, George Marler,
and William Sanborn.
[95]William E. Kearns, “A Nez Percé Chief Revisits Yellowstone,”
_Yellowstone Nature Notes_, XII (June-July, 1935), 41.
[96]Edwin Linton, _Science_, No. 561 (Nov. 3, 1893), pp. 244-5.
Mr. Linton and Prof. S. A. Forbes heard the sounds upon two
occasions. Each gave a scientific presentation. Elwood Hofer, Dave
Rhodes, and F. H. Bradley have written accounts of similar
experiences.
[97]_Report of the Secretary of the Interior_ (Washington: Government
Printing Office, Nov. 30, 1880), p. 573.
[98]Frederick Bottler discovered a trapper’s cabin at the head of
Antelope Creek in 1878. The advanced decay of its timbers indicated
that it was forty or fifty years old. See P. W. Norris, _Annual
Report 1880_, p. 606.
[99]_Niles Weekly Register_, Third Series, IX, 6 (Oct. 6, 1827), p. 90.
Also, _Yellowstone Nature Notes_, XXI, 5 (Sept.-Oct., 1947), p. 52.
Sweet Lake is now known as Bear Lake, Idaho.
[100]P. W. Norris, _Annual Report 1878_, p. 987. Smith was killed by a
band of Comanches in 1831, when leading a caravan across the
Cimarron Desert toward Santa Fe.
[101]Meek’s experience was published by Mrs. Frances Fuller Victor in
_The River of the West_ (Hartford, Conn.: Columbian Book Co., 1871),
pp. 75-7.
[102]Warren A. Ferris, _Life in the Rocky Mountains 1830-35_ (Salt Lake
City: Rocky Mountain Book Shop, 1940), pp. 204-6.
[103]Osborne Russell, _Journal of a Trapper, 1834-1843_ (Boise, Idaho:
Syms-York Co., 1921), p. 32.
[104]Helen F. Sanders, _op. cit._, p. 657.
Mr. Ducharme, Joe Power, L’Humphrie, Louis Anderson, and Jim and
John Baker were members of this group. Remains of horses have been
found on this battleground.
[105]J. Cecil Alter, _James Bridger_, p. 107.
[106]Walter W. DeLacy, “A Trip Up the South Fork of Snake River,”
_Contributions_, Historical Society of Montana, I, 132.
[107]James Stuart, “The Yellowstone Expedition of 1863,” _Ibid._, I,
191.
Montana mineral production vaulted to $18,000,000 by 1865.
Thereafter a gradual decline began, but a strong revival came in the
eighties when deep mining of silver and copper ore bodies proved
profitable. The combined mineral output in 1889 was $41,000,000.
[108]P. Koch, “The Discovery of Yellowstone National Park,” _Magazine of
American History_, II, 511.
[109]E. S. Topping, _Chronicles of the Yellowstone_ (St. Paul: Pioneer
Press Co., 1888), p. 44.
[110]P. W. Norris, _Annual Report 1880_, p. 7. Miller Creek was named
for Adam Miller’s retreat in this instance.
[111]Grace R. Hebard and E. A. Brininstool, _The Bozeman Trail_
(Cleveland: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1922), II, 229.
[112]Robert Vaughn, _Then and Now_, p. 165.
[113]Hebard and Brininstool, _op. cit._, II, 229.
[114]_Ibid._, p. 230.
[115]_Ibid._, p. 244.
[116]Anonymous. The quotations used in the Bridger stories represent the
author’s organization of existing folk lore. Some of these stories
and others are given in H. M. Chittenden’s _Yellowstone National
Park_.
[117]John G. White, “Souvenir,” I, 134.
[118]Hiram M. Chittenden, _op. cit._, pp. 39-40.
[119]Hebard and Brininstool, _op. cit._, II, p. 243.
[120]This information was obtained by the author from Jesse M. Matlock,
formerly Mrs. William Peterson and Mabel M. White, an adopted
daughter, in an interview at Salmon City, June 7, 1943. The latter
remembers hearing Mr. Peterson express regret that the
Folsom-Cook-Peterson Expedition was not given more recognition for
its discovery. Mr. Peterson died in 1918.
[121]C. W. Cook and D. E. Folsom, “Cook-Folsom Expedition to the
Yellowstone Region 1869,” _Haynes Bulletin_ (Jan. 1923).
[122]C. W. Cook, “Remarks of C. W. Cook, Last Survivor of the Original
Explorers of the Yellowstone Park Region,” Yellowstone Park Library,
Mammoth, Wyoming. Two sons of Cornelius Hedges were present at the
celebration which was sponsored by The National Editorial
Association.
[123]W. T. Jackson, “The Cook-Folsom Exploration of the Upper
Yellowstone 1869,” _The Pacific Northwest Quarterly_, XXXII (1941),
320-21.
[124]Hiram M. Chittenden, _Yellowstone National Park_, p. 60.
[125]Nathaniel P. Langford, _The Discovery of Yellowstone Park 1870_
(St. Paul, Minn.: J. E. Haynes, 1923), p. 80.
[126]Louis C. Crampton, _Early History of Yellowstone National Park and
Its Relations to National Park Policies_ (Washington, D. C.: United
States Government Printing Office, 1923), p. 14.
[127]Yellowstone Park Scrap Book, I, 33. Park Library, Mammoth, Wyoming.
[128]L. P. Brockett, _Our Western Empire_ (San Francisco: William
Garretson and Co., 1881), p. 1247.
[129]_Ibid._, p. 1243.
[130]Cornelius Hedges, “Yellowstone Lake,” Crampton’s _Early History_,
p. 110.
[131]Truman C. Everts, “Thirty Seven Days of Peril,” _Scribner’s
Monthly_, III (Nov. 1871), 1-17.
[132]Cornelius Hedges, “Journal,” _Contributions_, Montana Historical
Society, V, 387.
[133]Nathaniel P. Langford, _op. cit._, p. 158.
[134]Gustavus C. Doane, “Report Upon the Yellowstone Expedition,”
Crampton’s _Early History_, p. 138.
[135]Henry D. Washburn, “The Yellowstone Expedition,” _Ibid._, p. 96.
[136]Rudyard Kipling, _American Notes_, p. 159.
[137]L. P. Brockett, _op. cit._, p. 1254.
[138]F. V. Hayden, _American Journal of Science_, III (March, 1872),
174.
[139]Arnold Hague, “The Yellowstone National Park,” _Scribner’s
Magazine_, XXXV (May, 1904), 519.
[140]W. Turrentine Jackson, “The Creation of Yellowstone Park,” _The
Mississippi Valley Historical Review_ XXIX, 2 (September, 1942),
189-90.
[141]N. P. Langford, Preface to “The Folsom-Cook Exploration of the
Upper Yellowstone in the Year 1869,” _Contributions_, Historical
Society of Montana, V (1904), 312.
[142]Truman C. Everts, _op. cit._, p. 16.
[143]H. M. Chittenden, _Yellowstone National Park_, p. 69.
[144]_Ibid._, p. 70.
[145]Louis C. Crampton, _Early History of Yellowstone_, p. 25.
[146]F. V. Hayden, “More About the Yellowstone,” _Scribner’s Monthly_,
III, 4 (February, 1872), 389. This article contains a summary of the
Hayden Expedition.
[147]H. M. Chittenden, _op. cit._, p. 71.
[148]In Dr. Hayden’s “Brief Statement of the History of the National
Park,” which he forwarded to the Secretary of the Interior, Carl
Schurz, on February 21, 1878, the following appeared: “I beg
permission to state here, that so far as I know, I originated the
idea of the park, prepared the maps, designating the boundaries, and
in connection with the Hon. W. H. Claggett [sic], then Delegate from
Montana Territory, wrote the law as it now stands.... It is now
acknowledged all over the civilized world that the existence of the
National Park, by law, is due solely to my exertions during the
sessions of 1871 and 1872.” _House Executive Documents_, Forty-fifth
Congress, Second Session, 1877-78, XVII, No. 75, 3. For this item
credit is given by the author to W. Turrentine Jackson; see “The
Creation of Yellowstone National Park,” _The Mississippi Valley
Historical Review_, University of Iowa, XXIX, 2 (Sept. 1942), 199.
[149]_Congressional Globe_, Forty-second Congress, Second Session,
1871-72, Part I, p. 520.
[150]_Ibid._, p. 697.
[151]W. T. Jackson, _op. cit._, p. 203.
[152]_Ibid._, pp. 204-5.
[153]Louis C. Crampton, _op. cit._, p. 31.
[154]Senator George G. Vest, a strong friend of Yellowstone, once
referred to Mr. Dawes as the father of the Park, “for he drew the
law of designation.” If not the actual scribe, he was certainly the
advocate of the principles involved. See L. C. Crampton, _op. cit._,
p. 32.
[155]John Muir, _The Atlantic Monthly_, LXXXI (April, 1898), 509.
Dr. F. V. Hayden’s tribute to Congress is equal to John Muir’s.
Hayden said, “That our legislators, at a time when public opinion is
so strong against appropriating the public domain for any purpose,
however laudable, should reserve for the benefit and instruction of
the people a tract of 3,575 square miles, is an act that should
cause universal satisfaction through the land. This noble deed may
be regarded as a tribute from our legislators to science, and the
gratitude of the nation, and of men of science in all parts of the
world, is due them for this munificent donation.” See “The
Yellowstone National Park,” _American Journal_, III (April, 1872),
295-96.
[156]_Congressional Globe_, p. 697.
[157]George Catlin, _North American Indians_ (Philadelphia: 1913), II,
290.
[158]This refers to Chief Joseph’s retreat which is described in Chapter
XI.
[159]Alexander Ross, _The Fur Hunters of the Far West_, p. 257.
[160]Ulrich B. Phillips, “Lectures On Early America,” a series of
lectures given in Berkeley, Calif., 1932.
[161]Robert Vaughn, _Then and Now_, p. 156.
[162]_Ibid._, p. 295.
[163]James Stuart, _Contributions_, Montana Historical Society, I, 154.
[164]Edgar F. Goad, “Bandelier, Scholar of the Mesas” (Washington, D.
C.: Department of Interior Information Service, 1940), p. 13.
[165]Alexander Ross, _op. cit._, p. 183.
[166]LeRoy R. Hafen and Carl C. Rister, _Western America_ (New York:
Prentice-Hall, 1941), p. 6.
[167]The most notorious foreigners to regale themselves among western
American adventure scenes were Prince Maximilian of Wied-Neuwied,
Sir George Gore of Ireland, and the Earl of Dunraven.
Maximilian spent the summer of 1833 on the upper Missouri. He was a
shabby, toothless man, but of first-rate scientific ability. It is
said that his accounts, together with Bodmer’s paintings, constitute
an important record of the period.
Sir George Gore was a millionaire who spent two years in the West.
He left a saga of ruthless slaughter and camp-life prodigality in
his wake. His parting gesture was the destruction, by fire, of all
the wagons, harness, saddles, and similar equipment. This was done
to spite the Missouri Fur Company because of their exorbitant river
transportation charges.
In 1871 the Grand Duke Alexis of Russia hunted bison on the Nebraska
plains.
[168]_Ibid._, p. 572.
[169]Granville Stuart, _Forty Years on the Frontier_, edited by Paul C.
Phillips (Cleveland: 1925), II, 104. This view was expressed by
Representative James A. Garfield. See _Congressional Record_,
Forty-third Congress, First Session, 1874, pp. 2107-9.
[170]Warren A. Ferris, _op. cit._, p. 244.
[171]_Ibid._, pp. 204-6.
[172]Dan E. Clark, _The West in American History_ (New York: Thomas Y.
Crowell Co., 1937), p. 573.
[173]Fredrick L. Paxson, _Recent American History of the United States_
(Boston: Prentice-Hall Co., 1937), p. 28.
[174]LeRoy R. Hafen and Carl G. Rister, _op. cit._, p. 528.
[175]D. J. Louck, “Journal,” State Historian’s file, Laramie, Wyoming.
[176]Helen F. Sanders, _op. cit._, p. 313.
[177]Howard R. Briggs, _Westward America_ (New York: G. P. Putnam’s
Sons, 1942), p. 276.
[178]_Ibid._, pp. 279-80. In 1862, Granville Stuart collected a herd and
drove them to Bannock. Conrad Kohrs had a butcher shop there at that
time.
[179]Dorothy Gardiner, _West of the River_ (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell
Co., 1941), p. 319.
Forts were located chiefly with an eye to the protection of travel.
Some of the principal ones—Cook, on Judith River, Montana; Reno;
Phil Kearney; C. F. Smith; and Casper in Wyoming—were built in 1866.
D. A. Russell near Cheyenne, Fort Shaw on Sun River, and Fort Buford
were established in 1867. Fort Laramie was built in 1849; Fort
Bridger, in 1858; Fort Stambaugh at South Pass, 1869; Fort Steele on
North Platte Crossing, 1868; and Fort Assiniboine near Havre, 1879.
[180]Granville Stuart, _op. cit._ Other prominent stockmen were C. D.
Duncan, Robert Coburn, N. J. Dovenspeck, Amos Snyder, Adolf Baro, W.
C. and G. P. Burnett, Pat Dunlevy, James Dempsey, Chas. Ranges,
Edward Regan, N. W. McCaulley, and F. E. Lawrence.
[181]Dan E. Clark, _op. cit._, p. 596.
[182]Helen F. Sanders, _op. cit._, p. 316.
[183]Nathaniel P. Langford, _The Discovery of Yellowstone Park_, p. 181.
[184]Cornelius Hedges, _Contributions_, Montana Historical Society, V,
391.
[185]Dan E. Clark, _op. cit._, p. 625.
[186]Chief Joseph, “Chief Joseph’s Own Story,” as told by him on his
trip to Washington, D. C., p. 3.
[187]Francis Haines, _Red Eagles of the Northwest_ (Portland, Ore.: The
Scholastic Press, 1939), p. 234.
[188]_Ibid._, p. 238.
[189]Chief Joseph, _op. cit._, p. 9.
[190]Helen A. Howard and Dan L. McGrath, _War Chief Joseph_ (Caldwell,
Idaho: The Caxton Printers, Ltd., 1941), p. 145.
[191]Chester Anders Fee, _Chief Joseph, the Biography of a Great Indian_
(New York: Wilson-Erickson, 1936), p. 168.
[192]Francis Haines, _op. cit._, p. 262.
[193]Helen F. Sanders, _op. cit._, p. 268.
[194]_Ibid._, p. 282.
[195]W. T. Sherman, _Reports of Inspection Made in the Summer of 1877_
(Washington, D. C.: Government Printing Office, 1878), p. 34.
[196]Heister D. Guie and L. V. McWhorter, editors, _Adventures in Geyser
Land_, by Frank D. Carpenter (Caldwell, Idaho: The Caxton Printers,
Ltd., 1935), p. 279.
George F. Cowan was born in Ohio in 1842. He was with the first
volunteers during the Civil War. He attained the rank of Sergeant.
At this time he was one of Montana’s leading attorneys.
[197]Chester A. Fee, _op. cit._, p. 218.
[198]Francis Haines, _op. cit._, p. 287.
[199]Heister Guie and L. V. McWhorter, _op. cit._, p. 223.
[200]Edwin J. Stanley, _Rambles in Wonderland_ (New York: D. Appleton
and Co., 1878), p. 166.
[201]Chester A. Fee, _op. cit._, p. 223.
[202]Heister D. Guie and L. V. McWhorter, _op. cit._, p. 225.
George F. Cowan’s experiences were so peculiar that one is puzzled
to know whether he was the most lucky or unlucky of men. A train of
incidents followed his suffering in the Park. Near Fort Ellis the
neck yoke broke, and the Cowan party was thrown out of the carriage.
At Bozeman, when Mr. Arnold was dressing Cowan’s wounds in the hotel
room, the bedstead gave way and down went the injured man.
[203]Andrew J. Weikert, “Journal of a Tour Through Yellowstone National
Park in August and September 1877,” _Contributions_, Historical
Society of Montana, IV (1900), 185-99.
[204]H. M. Chittenden, _Yellowstone National Park_, p. 142. Stewart was
relieved of $260.00 and a watch.
[205]_Ibid._, p. 143.
[206]Heister D. Guie and L. V. McWhorter, _op. cit._, pp. 194-5.
Near the top of Mt. Everts, and toward its southern end, there is a
cliff formed by an ancient flow of lava. Upon a flat space, at the
foot of the cliff, one may find an inscription that reads, “Ben
Stone 1877.”
[207]_Ibid._, p. 145.
[208]O. O. Howard, _Chief Joseph, His Pursuit and Capture_ (Boston: Lee
and Shephard, 1881), p. 243.
[209]Helen A. Howard and Dan L. McGrath, _op. cit._, p. 258.
[210]_Ibid._, pp. 260-1.
[211]Chester A. Fee, _op. cit._, pp. 248-9.
[212]Helen A. Howard and Dan L. McGrath, _op. cit._, pp. 271-2.
[213]This was Joseph’s understanding, as revealed in all subsequent
statements.
[214]Chester A. Fee, _op. cit._, pp. 262-3.
[215]_Ibid._, p. 270.
[216]_Ibid._, p. 272.
[217]Helen A. Howard and Dan L. McGrath, _op. cit._, p. 183.
[218]Chester A. Fee, _op. cit._, p. 287.
[219]The Hayden and other government expeditions did quite a lot of
trail work in an informal manner. That is to say, they had large
parties and considerable baggage. In order to get through the forest
quite a lot of trail building became necessary.
[220]Jack E. Haynes, “The Expedition of President Chester A. Arthur to
Yellowstone National Park in 1883,” _Annals of Wyoming_, January,
1942, p. 2.
[221]J. J. Leclercq, _La Terre des Marveilles_. An excerpt containing
this story is in Mercer Cook’s _Portraits of Americans_ (New York:
D. C. Heath and Co., 1939), pp. 47-8.
[222]John Muir, _The Atlantic Monthly_, LXXXI (Jan. 1898), 15.
Edwin J. Stanley’s _Rambles in Wonderland_ describes conditions as
of that time.
[223]P. W. Norris, _Annual Report 1880_, p. 584. See also Elno’s “The
Lord of Hard Luck,” _Dillon Examiner_, June 12, 1940.
[224]Heister D. Guie and L. V. McWhorter, _Adventures in Geyser Land_,
p. 71.
Texas Jack served as a guide for the Earl of Dunraven in 1874.
[225]Jones Bros. and McGill of Cody and Hougan and Phillips of Salt Lake
City, along with many others, conducted tours varying in duration
and cost. The fee varied from five to ten dollars a day per person.
[226]C. S. Walgamott, _Reminiscences_ (Twin Falls, Idaho, 1926), II, 78.
[227]John Muir, _The Atlantic Monthly_, LXXXI (April, 1898), 515.
[228]Alice W. Rollins, “The Three Tetons,” _Harper’s_, LXXIV (May,
1887), 876.
[229]_Ibid._
[230]Rudyard Kipling, _American Notes_, p. 126. “Buckskin Charley” was
Charles Marble; Yankee Jim’s name was James George; Hofer’s name was
Thomas Elwood Hofer.
[231]Yellowstone Park Scrap Book, II, 52. There are three volumes of
newspaper and magazine clippings in the Park Library at Mammoth,
Wyoming.
[232]_Ibid._, pp. 60, 123. See also I, 33, and III, 33.
[233]Alice W. Rollins, _op. cit._, p. 74.
[234]Silas S. Huntley was the guiding mind of the organization from 1892
to 1901, when H. W. Child succeeded to the management, which he held
until 1917. E. W. Bach was an active partner.
[235]The transportation setup as of 1914: Yellowstone Park
Transportation Company, Gardiner, Round Trip $25.00; Yellowstone
Western Stage Company, Yellowstone, Montana, $20.00; Holm
Transportation Company, Cody, Wyoming, five days $25.00; Wylie
Permanent Camping Company maintains permanent camps and operates a
line from Gardiner, also West Yellowstone and Camp Cody (East Gate).
The camps: Swan Lake Basin, Riverside, Upper Geyser Basin, Outlet of
Lake, Grand Canyon, Camp Cody and Tower Falls. Lunch stations at
Gibbon Geyser Basin and Thumb. Six day tour $40.00.
[236]Yellowstone Park Scrap Book, III, 20. Also Henry D. Sedgwick, Jr.,
“On Horse Back Through Yellowstone,” _World’s Work_, VI (June,
1903). Two of Yancey’s buildings are still standing.
[237]Scrap Book, II, 4.
[238]_Report of the Secretary of the Interior 1884_, I, 73.
[239]A corrupt and incompetent concern called The Improvement Company
started a hotel in Mammoth. In 1884 this firm attempted to secure
private ownership of land in important localities through
Congressional action. When the move failed the firm went under. Its
interests were bought by the Yellowstone Park Association which was
financed by the Northern Pacific Railway.
[240]The Norris Hotel was replaced by a camp hotel and eating house,
which served until 1900, when a new one was completed. The hotel at
Old Faithful had not been profitable and was not replaced until
1903, when Old Faithful Inn was built.
[241]J. E. Rickards, ex-Governor of Montana, to the editor of _The Salt
Lake Tribune_, July 17, 1897.
[242]Scrap Book, II, 56.
[243]_Report of the Department of the Interior 1907_, p. 533. The Boat
Company charged three dollars for a ride from Thumb to Lake Fishing
Bridge.
[244]Henry D. Sedgwick, _op. cit._, p. 3572.
[245]Scrap Book, I, 61.
[246]_Ibid._, Captain George S. Anderson earnestly prophesied that there
would not be a square mile of forest left standing in six months if
railroads were permitted to enter.
[247]Charles D. Warner, “Yellowstone National Park,” _Harper’s_, XCIV
(January, 1897), 323.
[248]_Annual Report 1907._ Several wells had to be dug between Norris
and Canyon.
[249]Horace M. Albright, _Park Service Bulletin_, April 14, 1934, p. 46.
[250]Lucien M. Lewis, “To the Old Stage Driver,” _Overland Monthly_,
LXIX (July, 1917), 52.
[251]Yellowstone Park Automobile Regulations for the Season of 1916.
Department of the Interior _Bulletin_. Here is an example of the
procedure:
SCHEDULE A
Gardiner to Norris Miles Not earlier than Not later than
Leave Gardiner Entrance 0 6:00 A.M. 6:30 A.M.
Arrive Mammoth Hot Springs 5 6:20 7:00
Leave Mammoth Hot Springs 0 6:45 7:15
Leave 8 Mile Post 8 8:00
Arrive Norris 20 8:30 9:00
Schedule B was for the P.M.
Bicyclists were also closely regulated. Upon meeting a team the
rider was required to stop and stand between his cycle and the team.
He could not pass a team from the rear without a signal.
People on horseback were expected to observe every precaution in
passing teams of all sorts.
[252]_Reports of the Department of the Interior 1917_, p. 812.
[253]Chas. Van Tassell, _Truthful Lies_ (Bozeman, Montana, 1921).
[254]_Reports of the Secretary of the Interior 1936_, p. 132. The firms
combined in this consolidation were The Yellowstone Park Hotel Co.,
The Yellowstone Park Transportation Co., The Yellowstone Park Lodge
and Camps Co., and The Yellowstone Park Boat Company.
[255]_Ibid._, 1939, p. 300.
[256]There are two service stations in Old Faithful Camp. Some people
complain because they cannot get their favorite gasoline. However,
it would be both unsightly and impractical to allow each company a
half-dozen representatives. There are no pumps at all at Madison and
Norris stations.
[257]_Park Service Bulletin_, Nov., 1936, p. 12.
[258]Richard G. Lillard, _The Great Forest_ (New York: Alfred A. Knopf,
1948), p. 32.
[259]_Ibid._, p. 68.
[260]_Ibid._, p. 9.
[261]Hans Huth, _Yosemite, the Story of an Idea_. Reprint from the
_Sierra Club Bulletin_, March 1948, p. 48.
[262]Richard G. Lillard, _op. cit._, p. 85.
[263]Richard G. Lillard, _op. cit._, p. 256.
[264]Hugh H. Bennett, “Thomas Jefferson Soil Conservationist,” U. S.
Department of Agriculture, No. 548 (1944).
[265]Karl B. Mickey, _Man and Soil_ (Chicago: International Harvester
Co., 1945), p. 17.
[266]Hans Huth, _op. cit._, p. 73.
[267]George Catlin, _The Manners, Customs, and Conditions of the North
American Indians_ (London, 1841), I, 262.
[268]Hans Huth, _op. cit._, p. 52.
[269]Walter Mulford, _Forest Influences_ (New York: McGraw Hill Book
Co., 1948), p. 15.
[270]Hans Huth, _op. cit._, p. 68.
[271]_Ibid._, p. 69.
[272]_Ibid._
[273]Hans Huth said Frederick Law Olmstead admitted failure in his
attempt to discover the origin of public parks in this country. He
attributed it to “a spontaneous movement of that sort which we
conveniently refer to as the genius of our civilization.” _Ibid._,
p. 60.
[274]Richard G. Lillard, _op. cit._, p. 260.
[275]This agency was later transferred to the Department of Agriculture.
[276]Richard G. Lillard, _op. cit._, p. 264.
[277]_Ibid._, p. 270.
[278]_Ibid._ National Legislation Executive Almanac in Brief:
1876—$2,000.00, appropriated to employ a competent man to
investigate timber conditions in the United States.
June 30, 1886—Act creating Division of Forestry in Department of
Agriculture.
March 3, 1891—President authorized to establish Forest Reserves;
Yellowstone Park Timberland Reserve proclaimed by President
Harrison on March 30, 1891.
June 4, 1897—Present National Forest Act passed.
July 1, 1901—Division of Forestry becomes Bureau of Forestry.
February 1, 1905—Bureau of Forestry becomes Forest Service.
March 1, 1911—Weeks Law passed.
April 11, 1921—Snell Bill introduced in Congress.
May 2, 1921—Capper Bill introduced in Congress.
June 7, 1924—Clarke-McNary Bill signed by President.
April 30, 1928—McNary-Woodruff Act signed by President.
May 22, 1928—McSweeney-McNary Act signed by President.
Jan. 1, 1931—Creation of the Timber Conservation Board.
1937—The Norris-Doxey Act.
1944—The Cooperative Sustained Yield Act.
Other Acts closely related to the Forestry program include, Civilian
Conservation Corps, the Agricultural Adjustment Administration,
Public Works Administration, Taylor Grazing Control Act, Farm
Security Act, and Tennessee Valley Authority.
[279]“National Parks and National Forests,” a statement by the National
Park Service, Department of the Interior and the Forest Service,
Department of Agriculture.
[280]Earl of Dunraven, _op. cit._, p. 34.
[281]William T. Hornaday, _Our Vanishing Wild Life_ (New York: New York
Zoological Society, 1913), p. 2.
[282]_Ibid._, p. 63.
[283]Earl of Dunraven, _op. cit._, p. 6.
[284]_Ibid._, p. 15.
[285]Extinct species include: great auk, Pallas’s cormorant, Labrador
duck, Eskimo curlew, passenger pigeon, Carolina parakeet,
yellow-winged green parrot, heath hen, whooping crane, upland
plover. Other effective wild life conservation advocates were Dr.
Theodore S. Palmer, Edward H. Forbush, T. Gilbert Pearson, John B.
Burnham, and William T. Hornaday.
[286]Earl of Dunraven, _op. cit._, p. 181.
[287]_Ibid._, pp. 182-3.
[288]Nathaniel P. Langford, “The Ascent of Mount Hayden,” _Scribner’s
Monthly_, III (June, 1873), 133-40. The author does not necessarily
imply that Langford reached the summit.
The author has possession of a part of Mr. Leigh’s diary, numerous
dictations, and items relative to “Beaver Dick.”
[289]F. H. Knowlton, “The Tertiary Flowers of the Yellowstone National
Park,” _The American Journal of Science_, No. 7 (July, 1896).
[290]Chittenden says that Norris Geyser Basin was discovered from the
top of Bunsen Peak in 1872. E. S. Topping and Dwight Woodruff saw a
large column of steam ascending far to the south. They made an
investigation and reported their find. The next day Mr. and Mrs. H.
H. Stone, of Bozeman, Montana, visited the basin. Mrs. Stone was one
of the first white women to enter the Park. Perhaps she was the
first excepting certain members of earlier missionary parties.
[291]N. P. Langford’s Diary, Second Trip To Yellowstone 1872. MS. in
Yellowstone Park Library, Mammoth, Wyoming. Dr. Hayden and his
co-workers returned in 1878. In this investigation they made
detailed reports upon many hot springs and geysers. The season’s
study, richly embellished with engravings and colored plates, was
published in Hayden’s _Report_ in 1883.
[292]Lewis R. Freeman, _Down the Yellowstone_ (New York: Dodd, Mead and
Co., 1922), p. 57.
[293]P. W. Norris, _Annual Report 1880_, p. 7.
[294]R. Kipling, _American Notes_, p. 174. Also see T. A. Jagger’s
article, “Death Gulch, A Natural Bear Trap,” _Popular Science_, LIV
(February, 1899), 5-6.
[295]Jack Ellis Haynes states that A. F. Norris, C. M. Stephens, and J.
Davis spent the winter of 1879-80 in the headquarters building at
Mammoth.
[296]William Ludlow, _Report to the War Department 1875_, pp. 36-7. Mr.
Ludlow made a reconnaissance from Carrol, Montana to Yellowstone
Park and returned.
[297]Yellowstone Scrap Book, II, pp. 37, 56.
[298]_Report of the Secretary of the Interior 1884_, II (Washington, D.
C.: Government Printing Office, 1885), p. 565.
[299]_Ibid._, 1889, III, p. 133.
[300]Some of these territorial officials, known in local parlance as
“rabbit catchers,” formed an alliance with the assistant
superintendent. By this means the latter shared, as informers, the
fines levied by themselves. H. M. Chittenden, _op. cit._, p. 113.
[301]_Ibid._, p. 134. See also _Report_ for 1906, p. 522 and _The
Independent_, Butte, Montana, Nov., 1895.
[302]H. M. Chittenden, _op. cit._, p. 114.
[303]_Report of the Secretary of the Interior_, II, 873.
[304]_Report of the Secretary of the Interior_, III (1889), 134.
[305]_Ibid._, p. 133.
[306]Henry H. Lewis, “Managing a National Park,” _The Outlook_, LXXIV
(August, 1903), 1037.
[307]_Report of the Secretary of the Interior 1889_, III, 129.
[308]_Ibid._, p. 130.
[309]Jack Ellis Haynes, _Haynes Guide_, p. 160.
[310]Emerson Hough, “Yellowstone Park Game Exploration,” _Forest and
Stream_, XLIII, Nos. 8-12. A series of articles covering this
exploration appeared in each issue from March until August 25, 1894.
[311]T. J. Patterson, Yellowstone Park Scrap Book, I, 124.
[312]S. B. M. Young’s _Annual Report 1897_, p. 779.
[313]Benjamin Drew, _Souvenir List_, Mammoth, Wyoming. One of the
victims was struck over the head with the Winchester; whereas a
Chicago lady was able to get a snapshot of the desperado. Rewards
offered aggregated $1,100.00.
[314]Heister D. Guie and L. V. McWhorter, _Adventures in Geyser Land_,
p. 64. Also Earl of Dunraven, _op. cit._, p. 206.
[315]Frederick Remington, _Pony Tracks_ (New York: Harper and Bros.,
1895), p. 192.
[316]Arnold Hague, “Soaping Geysers,” _Science_, XIII (May 17, 1889),
384. Dr. Arnold Hague and John H. Renshawe of the Geological Survey
studied the Park in 1883.
[317]John Muir, “The Yellowstone National Park,” _The Atlantic Monthly_,
LXXXI (April, 1898), 520.
[318]Land in the reserves adjacent to the Park yield 30¢ per acre from
lumbering and 50¢ for grazing; whereas the water storage value alone
is $12.50. Then, too, there are extensive agricultural improvements
contingent upon the water supply. These would approximate $30.00 per
forest acre. Statement made to the author by range supervisor, Faber
Eaton, on August 9, 1943.
[319]_Annual Report of the Acting Superintendent 1894_, p. 661.
[320]There have been exceptions to the rule. Certain animals have been
classed as predators at given times and thinned out.
[321]The average sagebrusher (camper) considers bears as an unmitigated
nuisance. Because of them, he must exercise vigilance at all times
or his food will be carried away.
[322]_Reports of the Department of the Interior 1918_, p. 827.
Strong demands were also made to open the Park for sheep grazing.
[323]_Report of the Secretary of the Interior 1938_, p. 6.
[324]Yellowstone Scrap Book, I, 57.
[325]_Ibid._
[326]_Report of the Acting Superintendent of Yellowstone National Park
1895_, p. 824.
[327]These stations were located at Norris, Riverside, Fountain, Upper
Geyser Basin, Thumb, Snake River, Lake Sylvan Pass, Soda Butte,
Tower Falls, Fort Yellowstone, and Gardiner.
[328]There are more than thirty of these journals in the Park Library at
Mammoth, Wyoming.
[329]Yellowstone Scrap Book, II, 105.
[330]R. Kipling, _op. cit._, p. 153.
[331]John Muir, _op. cit._, April, 1898, p. 510.
[332]Charles D. Warner, “Yellowstone National Park,” _Harper’s_, XCIV
(January, 1897), 94.
[333]_Annual Report 1894_, p. 133.
[334]Eugene T. Allen and Arthur L. Day, _Hot Springs of the Yellowstone
National Park_ (Washington, D. C.: Carnegie Institution, 1935).
Although Dr. Day was the director, the work was regarded as the
valedictory of Dr. Allen.
[335]Theodore Roosevelt, “A National Park Service,” _Outlook_, C (Feb.
3, 1912).
[336]S. T. Mather’s “Report of The Director of The National Park
Service,” _Report of the Department of the Interior 1918_, pp.
842-3.
[337]_Reports of the Secretary of the Interior 1918_, pp. 842-3.
An interesting experiment, contrary to this principle, was an
attempt in 1906 to raise twelve Sequoia _gigantea_ trees near the
arch at Gardiner entrance. All of the trees died.
[338]James Bryce, “National Parks the Need of the Future,” _The
Outlook_, CII (December 14, 1912), 811.
[339]_Reports of the Secretary of the Interior 1918_, pp. 813-4.
[340]_Ibid._
[341]Ray S. Baker, “A Place of Marvels,” _The Century Magazine_, LXVI
(August, 1903), 487.
[342]F. A. Boutelle, _Report of the Acting Superintendent 1889_
(Washington, D. C.: Government Printing Office, 1890), p. 148.
[343]_Report of the Secretary of the Interior 1937_, p. 49.
[344]Short terms of service were also held by Dr. Frank E. Thone, 1923,
and Alfred H. Povah, 1931.
[345]Editorial, “The Ranger Naturalist,” _Nature Magazine_, XVII (April,
1931), 219.
[346]Exhibits were established at Rhyo-Travertine Gulch, Swan Lake Flat,
Beaver Dams, Nymph Lake, Tuff Cliff, and Firehole Canyon.
[347]_Report of the Secretary of the Interior 1938_, p. 13.
[348]_Ibid._, 1918, pp. 844-5.
[349]George O. Smith, “The Nation’s Playgrounds,” _Review of Reviews_,
XL (July, 1909), 44.
[350]Dwight L. Elmendorf, _The Mentor_, II (May 15, 1915), 13.
[351]Earl of Dunraven, _The Great Divide_ (London, 1876), p. XI.
The Scottish Earl of Dunraven visited the Park in 1874. A peak and a
pass commemorate his interest and service in informing Europeans
about Yellowstone.
[352]The date of this communication was December 20, 1810.
[353]Colter’s first sheet is readily identifiable, and part of another
sheet may be segregated with the use of imagination and
understanding.
[354]Many writers have failed to identify Gap and Sage as the same
creek. They also befuddle Wind and Shoshone rivers. There is no
evidence that Colter ever heard the name of Bighorn River.
[355]The figure eight results from the fact that he went to the Yep-pe
camp, left it, came back, and left it again at the appropriate
angles.
[356]The curious errors of the map are explained in Chapter II.
[357]Lewis evidently complained to Biddle about the variations in sheets
because Clark stated in a letter to Biddle that these sheets were
all of the same scale. See Stallo Vinton, _John Colter_, p. 47.
[358]This claim will be developed subsequently.
[359]John D. Hicks, _The Federal Union_ (New York: Houghton Mifflin Co.,
1937), p. 282.
[360]The position of Henrys River, with reference to the Snake River
drainage, is almost wholly erroneous as shown on the Map of 1814.
Wisers River is fictitious. The true and original Weiser River lies
three hundred miles west.
[361]This hypothesis is based upon the findings of J. Neilson Barry of
Portland, Oregon. Mr. Barry is a profound student of Western history
and cartography. He has devoted years of intensive research in
correlating journals and geography.
[362]There is a reasonable view that holds this lake to be the only real
feature upon this section of the map and identifies it as Brooks
Lake, but Colter never saw or knew of the main branch of the Bighorn
River or its source in Brooks Lake.
[363]Clark named this mythical lake for William Eustis, who had been
representative to Congress from Massachusetts. About this time he
was Secretary of War in President Madison’s cabinet.
Whatever Colter drew was certainly lacking Lake Eustis, Lake Biddle,
and the Rio Grande, Arkansas, and Platte rivers. He was a simple
frontiersman who had probably never heard of Eustis or Biddle and
was not interested in mapping anything beyond his own route. Had
Lewis linked Eustis and Biddle-Riddle lakes together, a possible
approximation to Colter’s draft might have appeared.
[364]In 1941, Paul J. Shamp, a US. forester, reported the discovery of
numerous petrifications in the vicinity of Pass and Scatter creeks
in the Thorofare country. This is the line of Colter’s reconstructed
route.
It has been the author’s desire to make a search for this missing
link of evidence by actually going over the route. In 1947, he made
a partial exploration during a three day hike. It was enough to
suggest the size of the problem.
[365]Colter may have reached Chicken Ridge by Fishhawk, Mountain, or
Lynx creeks or via Falcon, Mink, or Crooked streams. It must be
remembered that this map sheet has been much mussed up. It is
impossible to know what has been erased; yet, enough of Colter’s map
remains to provide a logical basis for the above itinerary. It is
relatively unimportant which creeks he negotiated to reach Chicken
Ridge. The vitally important fact is that he drew a sketch of South
Arm from that angle which added to the Thumb makes an accurate map
of what a trapper would have seen of Yellowstone Lake.
[366]J. Neilson Barry has made the most intensive study of the Map of
1814. It is his opinion that Colter drew other map sheets besides
the one of the Buffalo Bill country. He also has hope that these
sheets may be discovered among the Lewis-Clark-Biddle papers.
INDEX
A
Absaroka Indians, 68, 74, 86
Absaroka Pass, 184, 298
Absaroka Range, 30, 42 ff., 96, 101, 104
Adams, Robert, Jr., 138
Albright, Supt. Horace M., 211, 270 ff.
Alder Gulch, 102;
gold found, 104, 161
Allard Bison Herd, 258
Allen, Dr. Eugene T., 264
Allen, G. N., 138
Alter, J. Cecil, 79
Alum Creek, 113, 181, 211
American Association for the Advancement of Science, 227
American Association of Museums, 272
American Fur Company, 94, 108
American Game Protective and Propagation Association, 225
American Journal of Science and Arts, 139
Amethyst Mountain, 104
Anderson, Capt. George S., 206, 210, 248, 260
Anderson, Ole, 216
Anthony, Sen. H. B., 140
Arbor Day, 229
Architectural Fountain Geyser, 139
Arickara Indians, 37, 61
Arnold, A. J., 172 ff.
Arthur, Pres. Chester A., 192 ff.
Ashley, Gen. William H., 81, 92
Astorians, 34
Atlantic Creek, 72, 296
Atwood, W. W., 270
Austin, ——, 103
B
Bach, E. W., 201
Baggley, George F., 273
Baker, Sergt. William, 121
Bannock Indians, 59;
description, 65, 86 ff.;
trail, 88;
defeat, 157
Barlow, Capt. J. W., survey, 137 ff.
Baronett, C. J., 105;
rescued Everts, 134;
bridge, 184;
road, 208
Bauer, Dr. C. Max, 270
Beaman, J. W., 138
Bear Paw Mountains, 187, 190
Bear River, 110
Beartooth Range, 30
“Beaver Dick” (Richard Leigh), 283
Bechler River, 27, 259
Beehive Geyser, 131, 197
Biddle, Lake, 292
Biddle, Nicholas, 50, 285, 290
Big Game Ridge, 47, 296
Big Hole, battle of, 170 ff., 180, 187
Bigfoot, Chief, 156
Bighorn Basin, 88, 112
Bighorn River, 32, 37, 42 ff., 55, 68, 290
Bison Peak, 261
Bitter Root Range, 67, 102, 170
Blackfeet Indians, 37;
attack Colter, 52 ff.;
description, 67, 74, 88, 98
Black Kettle’s village, 157
Blacks Fork of Green River, 108
Blaine, Sen. James G., 136
Bonaparte, Napoleon, 28
Bonneville, Capt. B. L. E., 99;
describes bison, 153; 232
Boone and Crockett Club, 235
Bottler, Frederick, 105;
stock range, 162;
ranch, 180
Boutelle, Capt. F. A., 268
Bowles, Samuel, 226
Bozeman, John, 158
Bozeman, Montana, 117, 138, 142, 176, 180, 205
Bozeman Pass, 55
Bozeman Trail, 161
Bradbury, John, 57
Brackenridge, Henry M., 37, 57 ff.
Bridger, James (Jim), 80, 98, 101;
ancestors, 106;
description, 106 ff.;
nicknames for, 110;
Indian wives, 110;
tall tales, 110 ff.;
death of, 115, 283
Brooks Lake, 44
Brothers, Henry J., 217
Bryant, Dr. Harold, 270
“Buckskin Charley,” (Charles Marble), 198, 283
Buffalo Ranch, 87
Bumpus, Dr. Hermon C., 270
Burgess, Felix, 247
Burlington Route, 202
Burns, A. E., 247
C
Cabeza de Vaca, description of bison, 153
Cache Creek, 104
California, 141;
climate of, 239;
University of, 270
Camas Creek, 94
Campfire Club of America, 235
Canyon Creek, Nez Percé fight Seventh Cavalry, 185, 186
Carnegie Geophysical Laboratory, 264
Carpenter, Frank, 172 ff.
Carpenter, Ida, 172
Carpenter, Robert E., 205, 244
Carrington, Campbell, 138, 139
Carrington, Henry B., 110
Carson, Kit, 285
Cassidy, “Butch,” 163
Castle Geyser, 131
Catholic Church, 174;
services, 217
Catlin, George, 144, 221 ff.
Cauliflower Geyser, 251
Cheyenne Indians, description, 70, 157, 187
_Chicago Journal_, 139
Chicken Ridge, 47, 296
Child, H. W., 201
Chittenden, Hiram M., 210
Chittenden Road, 210
Chivington, Col. J. M., 157
Cinnabar, 199 ff., 259
Civil War, 103, 120, 153, 157
Claggett, William H., 137;
sponsored Park Bill, 140 ff.
Clark, Dr. Dan E., 162
Clark, Capt. Philo, 193
Clark, William, 42 ff.;
Colter reports to, 50, 57, 285 ff.
Clarks Fork, 42, 50, 88, 184, 259, 286, 290, 298
Clearwater River, 35;
battle of, 169
Clematis Gulch, 182, 202
Cody, William F. “Buffalo Bill,” 151;
nickname, 153;
description, 233
Coffeen, Hon. Henry H., 208
Cole, Sen. Cornelius, 140
Colter, John, ancestors, 35 ff.;
joins Lisa, 37;
discovery of Park, 38 ff.;
attacked by Blackfeet, 52;
guide for Henry, 56;
reaches St. Louis, 57, 100;
route, 283 ff.
Colter Creek, 36
Colter’s Hell, 40, 45, 50, 291
Colter’s Peak, 58
Colville Reservation, 191
Community Chapel, 217
Condon, David de L., 270
Conger, Patrick A., 242
Conness, Sen. John, 225
Connor, Col. Patrick, 157
Conservation, 217 ff., 225;
Pres. Roosevelt’s Governor’s Conference, 229
Continental Divide, 25, 37, 45;
Colter crossed, 47, 99, 102, 118, 163, 259, 296
Cook, Charles W., 116, 118
Cooke, Montana, 208, 247, 259
Coronado, Francisco, 153
Cottage Hotel, 205
Counter, Hub, 196
Cowan, George F., 172 ff., 283
Cowan, Mrs. George F., describes Chief Joseph, 174
Crampton, Louis C., 211
Crazy Horse, Chief, 158, 162
Creamer, Phil, 106
Crook, Gen. George, 158
Crosby, Gov. John S., 193, 243
Crow Indians, 37, 54, 59, 86, 88, 104, 150, 184 ff., 240
Custer, Col. George A., 152, 157;
defeated, 158
Cougar Creek, 88
D
Davis, A. J., 162
Dawes, Chester M., 138
Dawes, Hon. Henry L., 138;
backed Park Bill, 141 ff.
Day, Dr. Arthur L., 264
Dead Indian Creek, 42, 50, 286, 298
Dedicatory Act, 144, 146, 202, 227, 230, 245
DeLacy, Walter W., 102 ff.;
his map, 121
Delano, Columbus, 139, 142
DeMaris Mineral Springs, 286
Devil’s Den, 122
Devil’s Hoof, 122
Devil’s Inkwell, 122
Devil’s Kitchen, 122
Devil’s Slide, 122
Diamond City, Montana, 116 ff.
Dickson, John, 35 ff.
Dietrich, Richard, 180 ff.
Dingee, William, 172 ff.
Dixon, George B., 138
Doane, Lieut. Gustavus C., 121;
description of Old Faithful Geyser, 130;
with Hayden, 138, 164;
in pursuit of Nez Percé, 178 ff.
Dot Island, 207
Dragons Mouth, 45, 50, 124, 298
Driggs, Dr. Howard R., 144
Duncan, J. W., 138
Duncan, L., 180
Dunnell, Hon. Mark H., 141
Dunraven, Earl of, 80, 85, 151 ff.;
describes horse thieves, 164;
hunting, 233 ff.;
praises Park, 278
Dutcher, Mary, 234
Dutcher, Willard, 233
E
Eagle Blanket, Nez Percé, 168
Eagle Peak, 25
East Entrance, 202, 210
Eaton, Howard, 195;
trail, 195, 215
Ee-dah-how (Idaho), 27
Edmunds, Sen. George F., 140
Elk Thistle, 127;
_see_ Everts Thistle, 128
Elk-Wapiti Creek, 47, 296
Elliott, Henry W., 137, 139
Emerald Pool, 131
Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 222, 223
Emigrant Gulch, 105
Ericson, Leif, 30
Eustis Lake, 292
Everts Thistle, 128
Everts, Truman C., 120 ff.;
lost in Park, 126 ff.;
visit to Washington, D.C., 137, 283
F
Fairweather, William, 104
Falcon Creek, 296
Fall River, 259, 276
Fan Geyser, 131
Farcy, Sheriff, 193
Fee, Chester A., 177
Fergus, James, 162
Ferris, Warren A., 68;
describes geysers, 94, 100
Fetterman Massacre, 161
Firehole Basin, 98, 102, 129
Firehole Canyon, 210
Firehole Hotel, 204
Firehole River, 105, 118;
Nez Percé camp, 172, 200 ff., 227
Fisher, Capt. S. G., 177
Fishhawk Creek, 296,
Fishing Bridge, 26, 86, 87, 210;
museum, 273
Flat Mountain Arm, 47, 296
Flathead Indians, 59;
description, 66 ff.
Foller, August, 180 ff.
Folsom, David E., 116;
proposed park idea, 118, 142;
assistant superintendent, 240
Folsom-Cook-Peterson party, 30;
exploration, 116 ff.
Ford, R. S., 162
Forest fires, 253 ff.
_Forest and Stream_, 206, 242, 247 ff.
Forsyth, Lieut. William W., 247
Fort Bridger, 108
Fort Ellis, 121 ff., 138, 172
Fort Hall, 96, 99;
Bannock Reservation, 157
Fort Henry, founded, 32;
visited by Astorians, 34
Fort Laramie National Park, 83, 233
Fort Lisa (Manuel’s Fort, Fort Raymond), 37, 41 ff., 54 ff., 286
Fort Mandan, 31
Fort Yellowstone, 242, 266
Fossil, 296
Fountain Geyser, 205
Fountain House, 205
Freeman, L. M., 105
G
Gallatin Range, 30, 32, 88, 291
Gallatin River, 26, 52, 94, 291
Gallatin Valley, 100
Game Ranch, 87
Gap Creek, 286
Gardiner, Montana, 199, 200, 274
Gardner, Johnson, 98
Gardner Hole, 98
Gardner River, 67, 86 ff., 122, 138
Garfield, Thomas, 247
Garrison, L. A., 12, 274, 279
Gass, Patrick, 31
Gentian Pool, 131
George, James (“Yankee Jim”), 198, 283
Giant Geyser, 130
Giantess Geyser, 105, 130
Gibbon, Gen. John, 170
Gibbon Canyon, 210
Gibbon Falls, 210
Gibbon River, 131, 227
Gilbert, Col. Charles C., 178
Gillette, Warren C., 120
Glass, Hugh, 106
Goff, ——, 200
Golden Gate, 210
Gold seekers, 101
Good, James W., 211
Goodnight Bison Herd, 258
Gore, Sir George, 154
Graham and Klamer, 204
Grand Canyon National Park, 211, 268
Grand Geyser, 130 ff.
Grand Loop Highway, 127, 195, 210, 214
Grand Prismatic Spring, 98, 131
Grand Teton National Park, 83, 274
Grant, Brogan, and Lycan, 195
Grant, John, 162
Grant, Madison, 233
Grant, Pres. Ulysses S., 142
Great Salt Lake, 110
Green River, 45, 81, 163
Green River Valley, 66, 81
Gregory, Col. J. F., 193
Grinnell, George Bird, 242
Grizzly Lake, 261
Gros Ventre Indians, 69
Grotto Geyser, 130, 131
Guernsey Lake National Park, 83
Gunnison, Capt. J. W., 114
H
Hague, Dr. Arnold, 25
Hall, A. F., 270
Hamilton, Charles A., stores, 217
Hamilton, William, 104
Hancock, Forest, 35, 36
_Harper’s Magazine_, 120
Harrington, Ed., 163;
_see_ Trafton, Edward
Harris, Moses (“Black”), 100
Harris, Capt. Moses, 246;
report of robbery, 250, 266
Harrison, Pres. Benjamin, 228
Hart Mountain, 184
Hauser, Samuel T., 120 ff., 137, 163
Hayden, Carl, 211
Hayden, Dr. Ferdinand V., 102 ff.;
praise of Bridger, 112;
hears Langford, 136 ff.;
expedition, 138 ff.
Hayden Valley, 26, 45, 50;
rendezvous, 81;
bison ranch, 258, 288, 298
Hayes Act, 246
Haynes, Frank Jay, 193, 200;
first studio, 216;
arrested poacher, 247
Haynes, Jack Ellis, 200, 241, 270
Heart Lake, 239
Hedges, Cornelius, 120 ff.;
quoted, 129;
proposed park idea, 132 ff., 142, 144
Hegley, C. DeV., 138
Helena, Montana, 102, 121, 184
_Helena Daily Herald_, 132, 136, 142
_Helena Independent_, 259
Helena tourists, 180 ff.
Hellbroth Springs, 122
Hell Roaring Mountain, 122
Hellroaring Creek, 261
Hells Half Acre, 122
Henderson, Bart, 105
Henderson, Walter L., 205
Henderson’s Ranch, 178
Henry, Major Andrew, 32 ff., 56, 92, 106, 291
Henrys Fork of Snake River, 88, 96, 291
Henrys Lake, 32, 88, 238
Hobart, C. T., 204
Hofer, Thomas Elwood, 198, 247
Hoffman, W., 201
Holm Transportation Company, 202
Hoodoo Creek region, 105, 240
Horseshow Cattle Company, 162
Hospital, 217
Hotels, 202 ff.
Hough, Emerson, 247
Hough, Franklin B., 228
Howard Eaton Trail, 195, 215
Howard, Gen. Oliver O., 166;
pursues Nez Percé, 169 ff.;
at Big Hole, 170;
at Henrys Lake, 178;
in Lamar Valley, 184 ff.
Howell, Ed, 247
Huntley, Child, and Bach, 201
Huntley, Silas S., 201
Huth, Dr. Hans, 226
I
Idaho, 102, 128, 160 ff.;
irrigation interests, 259;
entrance desired, 276
Improvement Company, 244
Index Peak, 104
Indian Creek, 86, 88
Innocents (Henry Plummer’s gang), 163
Irving, Washington, 40, 45
Isa Lake, 27
J
Jackson, “Teton,” 163
Jackson, William H., photographs, 139
Jackson Hole, 51, 96, 102, 202, 235
Jackson Lake, 44, 99, 210
Jacobs, John, 158
James, Thomas, 55 ff.
James, William, 250
Jamestown, 152
Jefferson, Pres. Thomas, 28, 221
Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, 83
Jefferson River, 26, 41, 52
Jenny, Indian wife of “Beaver Dick,” 238
Jones, W. A., 86
Jordan and Howell, 195
Joseph, Chief, 148 ff.;
promise to father, 165;
description, 166;
flight, 170 ff.;
surrender, 189;
death, 191, 283
Joseph, Old Chief, 165 ff.
K
Kenck, Charles, 180;
killed, 181;
buried, 182
Kent, Hon. William, 266
Kingman, Capt. D. C., 210
Kingsley, Mary, quoted, 233
Kipling, Rudyard, quoted, 241;
poem, 281 ff.
Kittams, Walter H., 235
Klamer, Henry E., 216
Kohrs, Conrad, 162
L
Lacey, John F., 233
Lacey Act, 246
Lake Biddle, 44
Lake Eustis, 45
Lake Hotel, 250
Lamar Creek, 86, 88
Lamar River, 27, 50, 86, 88, 117, 139;
Nez Percé flight, 184 ff., 238, 298
Lamar Unit or Buffalo Ranch, 258
Lamar Valley, 104
Lane, Franklin K., Secretary of the Interior, 264;
report of, 267
Langford, Nathaniel P., 118 ff.;
quoted, 129;
comment on Hedges’ remarks, 132;
lectures, 134;
advocacy of Park idea, 136 ff., 144, 164;
made superintendent of Park, 238
LaNoue, Francis D., 273
Lapwai, 36;
Indian Reservation, 166, 188
Larocque, Antoine, 31
Lava Creek, 86, 88, 296
Leigh, Richard (“Beaver Dick”), 238, 283
Leitner, William B., 138
Lewis and Clark, missed Yellowstone Park, 31 ff.; 41, 71, 165,
232;
journals, 285
Lewis Lake, 98, 102
Lewis, Meriwether, 35, 57
Lewis, Samuel, 285 ff.;
concealed map, 296
Libby, Rube, 104
Lincoln, Pres. Abraham, 225
Lincoln, Robert T., 191
Lindsley, C. A., 266, 273
Lion Geyser, 131
Lisa, Manuel, meets Colter, 36 ff., 56
_Literary Messenger_, 96
Little Bighorn, battle of, 152 ff.
Little Bighorn River, 158
Little Plume, Chief, 150
Little Rosebud River, 184
Livingston, Montana, William Clark party, 31, 217
_Livingston Post_, 259
Livingston, Robert, 28
Logan, William B., 138
_London Times_, 142
Looking Class, Chief, 189
Lord, Cecil A., 212
Louisiana Purchase, 27
L’Ouverture, Toussaint, 28
Lower Falls of Yellowstone, 26
Lower Geyser Basin, 86 ff., 102;
Folsom party, 118;
Marshall House, 200 ff., 246
Lower Yellowstone River, 104
Ludlow, William, 242
Lynx Creek, 296
Lystrup, Herbert T., 264
M
Madison Junction, 118;
Washburn camp, 131, 144, 172;
museum, 273
Madison River, 26, 32, 52;
Bannock route, 88 ff., 101, 102;
Nez Percé flight, 170, 181
Madison River Valley, 162 ff., 291
Mann, Charles, 172, 174
Many Wounds, 89
Mammoth Hot Springs, 88, 122;
Hayden’s visit, 138, 181 ff., 198, 205, 208;
stores built, 216, 235, 241;
museum, 273
Map of 1814, 41 ff., 285 ff.
Maple Creek, 88
Marble, Charles, 198
Marias River Valley, 67
Marler, George, 264
Marsh, George P., 223
Marshall, J. W., 200
Marshall and Goff, 203
Mary Mountain, 85, 173, 204, 208
Mather, Stephen Tyng, 264 ff.;
founded National Park Service, 269;
monument to, 277
Matthews, Larry, 199 ff.
Maximilian, Prince of Wied, 154
McBride, James, 273
McCartney, James C., 182 ff.;
hotel, 202
McConnell, Pvt. George W., 121
McGuirck, Matthew, 203
McIntyre, Robert N., 12, 272
McKenzie, Kenneth, 68
Meek, Joe, 78, 93
Meldrum, Hon. John W., 248
Menard, Pierre, 56
Midway Geyser Basin, 87
Miles, Col. Nelson A., 158;
pursuit of Nez Percé, 186 ff.
Miller, F. W., 270
Miller Creek, 85 ff.
Minaret Falls, 122
Ming, John, 162
Minnetaree Indian Village, 56
Missouri Fur Company, 32, 37;
Bridger joins, 108
Missouri River, 31, 71, 137, 155;
Nez Percé cross, 186, 223
Mitsiadazi, Minnetaree for Yellowstone, 31
Monarch Geyser, 198
Monida and Yellowstone Stage Line, 202
Monroe, James, 29
Montana, meaning of, 70;
gold miners, 102;
camps, 103, 157 ff., 186, 243;
penitentiary, 250, 258, 260
Montana Post, 116
Monument Geyser Basin, 240
Moran, Thomas, 137, 139
Morgan, George W., 142
Mormons, 157, 217
Morning Glory Pool, 131
Morton, J. Sterling, 229
Mount Holmes, 86, 88;
fire lookout, 253
Mount Washburn, 123, 176, 210;
fire lookout, 253
Mud Volcano, 25, 50;
Washburn’s visit to, 124, 176, 180, 184, 298
Muir, John, quoted, 145, 222;
praises soldiers, 262
Murdock, Nelson, 274
Murphy, Con, 164
Myers, Henry, 172
N
National Association of Audubon Societies, 235
National Lumber Manufacturers’ Association, 230
National Forest Service, 229
National Park Service, 211, 217;
director of, 265 ff.;
praised by visitors, 272;
research and education, 270, 274, 277
Naturalist Division, 270 ff.
_New York Tribune_, 120
New York Zoological Society, 225, 226
Nez Percé Creek, 85, 173 ff., 200
Nez Percé Indians, 66, 89;
befriended Lewis and Clark, 165 ff.;
in flight, 170 ff.;
surrender, 189
Nichols, William M., 215
Noble, John W., 228
Norris Geyser Basin, 86, 87, 198, 200 ff.;
visited by Langford, 239, 246;
trapping in, 247
Norris Museum, 273
Norris, Philetus W., 85, 91;
found trapper initials, 92;
annual report, 202;
road building, 208, 236, 240 ff.
North American Cattle Company, 162
North Entrance Gate, 200, 201
Northeast Entrance, 212
Northern Pacific Railroad, 199 ff., 259
O
Oastler, Frank R., 270
Obsidian Cliff, 86;
Bridger story, 113, 208
Ogallala, Nebraska, 159 ff.
Ogdens Hole, 81
Old Faithful Geyser, 29;
named, 129 ff., 197;
abuse of, 251
Old Faithful Inn, 199, 205, 264
Old Faithful Station, 210
Oldham, Albert, 172, 174, 178
_Omaha Herald_, 105
Omohondro, John (“Texas Jack”), 151, 195
Orange Mound, 241
Osborn, Henry Fairfield, 224, 233
Otter Creek, 181 ff., 269
Overhanging Cliff, 210
_Overland Monthly_, 137
P
Pacific Creek, Colter’s route on, 47, 296
Page, Andrew S., alias John Andrews, 247
Park Curio and Coffee Shop, 216
Parnell, Lieut. William R., 168, 169
Pass Creek, 47, 296
Paxson, Dr. Frederic L., 164
Peale, Dr. A. C., 25, 138
Pelican Cone fire lookout, 253
Pelican Creek, 50, 184;
poaching on, 247, 298
Pemmican, 64
Perry, Capt. David, 168 ff.
Peterson, William, 116 ff.
Pfister, Frederick, 180
Piegan Indians, 99, 150
Pierre’s Hole, 81
Pike, Zebulon M., 150
Pinchot, Gifford, 229
Piper, Edward, 159
Pleasant Valley, 203
Plummer, Henry, 163
Poker Joe, 173 ff.
Pomeroy, Sen. Samuel C., 140 ff.
Postal Service, 218
Potts and Colter attacked, 52
Potts, Daniel T., letter about geysers, 93
Potts, Robert, 93
Povah, Alfred H., 270
Powder River, 110, 157;
cattle company, 162
Prairie Cattle Company, 162
Pritchett, George A., rescued Everts, 134
Protective Act, 145, 248, 254
Protestant church services, 217
Pryor, Anna K., 216
Pryors Fork, 42, 286
Pryors Gap, 42, 286
Purple Mountain fire lookout, 253
Q
Quadrant Mountain, 88
R
Radersburg, Montana, tourists from, 172, 176, 180
Railroads, 154 ff.
Rainbow Pool, 131
Rain-in-the-Face, Chief, 158
Rawn, Capt. Charles C., 170
Raymond, Israel Ward, 225
Raymond, R. W., 126
Raynolds, Capt. W. F., 101
Red Cloud, Chief, 158, 161, 162
Redington, J. W., 177
Reebe, Charles, 250
Rendezvous, origin of, 81;
description, 82 ff.
Riverside Station, 27, 200, 203, 246
Roberts, Joseph, 180 ff.
Roche Juane, French for Yellowstone, 31
Rocket Geyser, 131
Rocky Mountains, 51, 62, 67;
trappers of, 71;
“college,” 74, 92, 141
Rocky Mountain Fur Company, 81, 93, 108
_Rocky Mountain Gazette_, 142
Rogers, Supt. Edmund B., 274 ff.
Roosevelt, Pres. Theodore, dedicates arch, 200;
conservation policies, 229 ff.
Ross, Alexander, 66;
describes trappers, 76;
quoted, 148, 151
Russell, Dr. Carl P., 270
Russell, Osborne, journeys in the park, 96 ff.
S
Sage, Mrs. Russell, 234
Sage Creek, 286
St. Louis, 56, 106, 285, 290
Salmon River Mountains, 67
Salt Fork, 296
Sand Creek Massacre, 157
San Ildefonso, treaty of, 28
Santa Fe Railroad, 154
Sapphire Pool, 131
Sapsucker, Chief, 69
Sawtelle, Gilman, 238
Sawyer, Edmund J., 270
Schonborn, Anton, 138
Schurz, Carl, 228
Scoda, Oscar, 196
Scott, Capt. George L., 247
Scotts Bluff National Park, 83
_Scribner’s Magazine_, 120, 137 ff.
Searight, George, 162
Shamp, Paul J., 47, 296
Sharps rifle, 154
Sheridan, Col. Michael V., 193
Sheridan, Gen. Phil H., 120, 144, 150, 157;
with Pres. Arthur, 193;
friend of Park, 245, 260
Sherman, Gen. William T., 157;
tours Park, 170;
praised Chief Joseph, 190
Shively, ——, 172, 184
Shoshone Indians, 59;
description, 66, 88
Shoshone Lake, 90, 98, 102;
visited by Folsom party, 118
Shoshone Point, 250
Shoshone River, 27;
called Stinking Water, 40, 286;
called Mick-ka-appa, 42, 104;
South Fork of, 296
Sitting Bull, 158, 162, 187
Skinner, Curtis K., 273
Skinner, M. P., 270
Slough Creek, 261
Smith, Hoke, 242
Smith, Jacob, 120, 122, 132
Smith, Jedediah, 77, 93, 285
Smith, Willard E., 51
Smoot, Sen. Reed, 266
Snake Creek, 187
Snake River, South Fork of, 47, 90 ff.;
Barlow visits, 139, 254, 259, 288, 296
Snake River Valley, North Fork explored by Henry, 32 ff., 66, 162,
291
Snow Pass, 88
Snowy Range, 30
Soda Butte, 246
Soda Butte Creek, 88, 104, 259
Solution Creek, 47, 296
South Arm of Lake, 47, 292, 296
South Entrance, 87, 202
South Pass, 34, 290
Splendid Geyser, 131
Spurgin, Capt. W. F., 208
Stagecoach, 195;
drivers, 196 ff.
Standing Rock Reservation, 158
Stager, Gen. Anson, 193
Stevens Creek Area, 274
Stevenson, James, 137
Stevenson Island, 87
Stewart, Jack, 180
Stickney, Benjamin, Jr., 120, 127, 163
Stock Growers Association, 162
Stone, Benjamin, 180 ff.
Stone, H. H., 239
Story, Nelson, 161
Stuart, Granville, 103, 162
Stuart, James, 69, 103, 120, 151
Stuart, Robert, 34
Sturgis, Col. S. D., 184 ff.
Sulphur Mountain, 180
Sundry Civil Bill, 245
Sunlight Creek, 286
Swan Land and Cattle Company, 162
Switzer, Charles, 250
T
Targhee Forest, 66
Tarter, Bob, 163
Teller, Henry M., 222, 223
Terry, Gen. Alfred H., 158
Teton Mountains, 34, 123, 238, 274, 281
Texas long drive, 158, 193
“Texas Jack” (John Omohondro), 151, 195
Theller, Lieut. Edward R., 168
Thomas, Cyrus, 138
Thone, Dr. Frank E., 270
Thoreau, Henry D., 222, 223
Thorofare Creek, 47, 296
Three Forks, 26, 32, 44, 52, 56, 112
Thumb of Lake, 45, 99;
Washburn camp, 129, 288 ff.
Toll, Supt. Roger W., 274
Topaz Spring, 131
Topping, Capt. E. S., 203
Tower Creek, 88;
Folsom party on, 117, 122
Tower Falls, 88, 104;
named, 122 ff., 176, 208
Trafton, Edward B. (alias Ed Harrington), 251, 283
Trappers, nicknames of, 73, 81;
“A. B. C.’s,” 74;
prayer of, 76;
routine, 78;
cache, 78;
clothes, 79;
rendezvous, 81, 82 ff.
Tree, Judge Lambert, 204
Trischman, Elizabeth, 216
Trumbull, Sen. Lyman, 140 ff.
Trumbull, Walter, 120 ff., 132, 137
Trunbull, Dr. C. S., 138
_Truthful Lies_, 214
Tu-hul-hul-sote, Chief, 166, 168;
death of, 189
Tukuarika, Sheepeater Indians, 59;
description, 67;
disappearance, 86
Turban Geyser, 131
Twain, Mark, 30
Two Ocean Pass, 27, 47, 51, 87, 101, 296
TyGee, Chief, 66
U
Um-till-lilp-cown, 174
Union Cattle Company, 162
Union Pacific Railroad, 202
Union Pass, 101, 290
Upper Geyser Basin, 94;
missed by Bridger, 112;
visited by Washburn, 129 ff.;
store built, 216;
Langford’s second visit, 238, 246
Upper Yellowstone Falls, 26, 92
Upper Yellowstone River, 45, 47, 288, 296
Utah, meaning of, 70, 163
Utah Northern Railroad, 202
V
Vandalism, 251 ff.
Vaughn, Robert, describes Bridger, 107
Verendrye, Sieur de, 32
Vest, Sen. George G., 192
Victor, Frances Fuller, quoted, 81
Vigilantes, of Montana, 121, 163
Virginia City, Montana, 102, 116, 142, 181, 184, 200
W
Wagon Box Massacre, 161
Wakefield, George W., 201
Wal-ait-its, 168
Wallowa Valley, 165,
Walsh, Sen. Thomas J., 259
Ward, Charles W., 234
Warner, Charles D., 262
Washakie, Chief, 59
Washburn, Henry D., 103;
briefed by Folsom, 118;
in charge of expedition, 120 ff.;
account of trip, 132;
death, 137
Washburn-Langford-Doane Expedition, 30, 90, 116, 120 ff.;
encounters rustlers, 163, 226
_Wasp, The_, 96
Waters, Col. E. C., 206
Watson, W. Verde, 264
Wayant, H. W., 104
Wear, David W., 204, 245
Wedded Trees, 261
Weikert, A. J., 180 ff.
We-Saw, 86
West Entrance, 88, 200, 202, 208
West Thumb of Lake, 47, 50, 86, 210, 298
West Yellowstone, Montana, 202, 213
Western Air Lines, 213
_Western Monthly_, 120
White Bird, Chief, 166, 168
White Bird Canyon, 168
White Hawk, 89
Whitman, Dr. Marcus, 111
Whittaker, George, 221
Wilcox, Albert, 234
Wilcox, Hon. T. Paul, 248
Wilkie, Leslie, 180 ff.
Williams, Pvt. John, 121
Willow Park, 193, 247
Wilson, Pres. Woodrow, 265
Winchester rifle, 154
Wind River Indian Trail, 87, 93
Wind River Mountains, 34, 69
Wind River Valley, 101, 162
Wohlbrandt, Philip H., 212
Woodring, Samuel T., 273
Woolsey, William, 196
Wylie, William W., 205 ff.
“Wylie Way,” 206
Wyoming, meaning of, 70, 157 ff., 243
Wyoming Stock Growers Association, 164
Y
Yale University, 270
Yancey, “Uncle” John, 203
“Yankee Jim” (James George), 198, 283
Yeager, Dorr G., 270
Yellowstone Boat Company, 206
Yellowstone Canyon, 104, 114;
visited by Folsom party, 118;
described by Washburn, 123 ff., 246, 247, 261, 269
Yellowstone Canyon Hotel, 205
Yellowstone Lake, visited by Colter, 45 ff., 58, 85, 87;
strange sounds above, 90, 104, 123;
Washburn party exploration of, 126;
Hayden party at, 139, 259, 288 ff.
Yellowstone Lake Hotel, 205
Yellowstone National Park, act creating, 227;
bill, 139 ff. (_see also_ Dedicatory Act);
golden anniversary, 118;
first superintendent, 238;
Langford’s second visit, 238 ff.
Yellowstone Park Association, 201, 205
Yellowstone Park Company, 217
Yellowstone Park Improvement Company, 200
Yellowstone Park Stage Line, 201
Yellowstone Park Transportation Company, 201, 205, 214 ff.
Yellowstone Plateau, 161, 162
Yellowstone Timber Reserve, 228
Yellowstone Valley, 176
Yep-pe Indians, 42 ff., 286 ff.
Yosemite National Park, 141, 145, 225 ff.
Yosemite School of Natural History, 270
Young, Brigham, 150
Yount, Harry, 241
Yount’s Peak, 26
[Illustration: Indian and Explorer]
[Illustration: YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK]
Transcriber’s Notes
—Silently corrected a few typos.
—Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook
is public-domain in the country of publication.
—In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by
_underscores_.
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