YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK.

It would be hardly proper for me to lay down my pen and make no mention of the Yellowstone National Park, which is in the heart of the “Rockies.” Besides, in my letter headed “Stampede to the Yellowstone,” I stated that “Wonderland was not known then.” That indicated that there was such a region in existence somewhere. Therefore it is necessary, at this time, to give a brief sketch of this wonderful place. The time of its first exploration was in 1869–70. It lays mostly in the northwest corner of Wyoming, extending a few miles into Montana on its north and Idaho on its west. It extends from a few miles east of 110 degrees to a few miles west of 111 degrees west longitude from Greenwich. Here the United States government, by an act which passed both houses of congress unanimously, and was approved March 1, 1872, has withdrawn from sale and occupation and set apart as a National Park or perpetual pleasure ground, for the use and enjoyment of the people, a region fifty-four by sixty-two miles and covering an area of 3,312 square miles or 2,119,680 acres. Its average elevation above the sea is from 7,000 to 7,500 feet, while its highest peak rises to the height of 11,155 feet.

A tourist wrote that in this remarkable region nature has assembled such a surprising number of the most sublime and picturesque objects, and amidst the grandest scenery of mountains, lakes, rivers, cataracts, canyons, and cascades exhibits such a variety of unique and marvelous phenomena of spouting geysers, of boiling and pulsating hot springs and pools of steam jets, solfataras, femerells and salses, rumbling and thundering and pouring out sulphurous hot water, or puffing out clouds of steam and throwing out great masses of mud that its early explorers gave it the name of “Wonderland.”

The first public conveyance to enter the Yellowstone National Park was a stage coach, owned by J. W. Marshall, which made its first trip, leaving Virginia City, Montana, at daylight, Oct. 1, 1880, following the beautiful Madison valley for over thirty miles, crossing the Rockies and thence going by Henry Lake, which is a sheet of water two miles wide and five miles long. One of the passengers described the lake as being then “full of salmon trout.” Ten miles farther, and in a northwesterly direction, was Cliff Lake, another remarkable sheet of water having a total length of three miles and a breadth of half a mile, in whose azure depths 1,400 feet of line failed to reach bottom. It took sixteen hours to make the trip, a distance of ninety-five miles, from Virginia City to the National Park House, Lower Geyser basin, then the only hotel in the park. This pioneer hotel was a two-story, hewed log structure, the property of Mr. Marshall.

And now the Monida & Yellowstone Stage Company, in connection with the Oregon Short Line railroad and the transcontinental lines, conducts a line of Concord coaches from Monida to all points in the Yellowstone National Park.

Monida is a station on the Oregon Short Line railroad, and the starting point for the stage ride, and is less than one day coaching distance from the Yellowstone Park. It is on the crest of the Rocky mountains, 7,000 feet above the tide. The lower Geyser basin in the park is about the same elevation.

The name “Monida” is a composite of the first syllables of “Montana” and “Idaho.”

The Rev. T. De Witt Talmage writes: “A stage ride from this place to the park ‘is a day of scenery as captivating and sublime as the Yellowstone Park itself.’

“The road threads the foothills of the Rocky mountains, skirting beautiful Centennial valley, the Red Rock Lakes, and after passing through Alaska basin, crosses the divide to Henry Lake in Idaho, whence it recrosses the range into Montana via Targhe Pass near the western entrance to the park. Red Rock Lakes are one of the sources of the Missouri river, and in Henry Lake originates one of the branches of the Snake. From Henry Lake are distinctly visible the famous Teton peaks. Near the western entrance to the park, prettily situated on the south fork of the Madison river, is Grayling Inn (Dwelles), the night station for tourists going in and out of the park. After passing Grayling Inn the road enters the reservation, winding through Christmas Tree Park to Riverside Military Station, following the beautiful Madison river and canyon to the Fountain Hotel in Lower Geyser basin.”

I will not attempt to write a description of this wonderful region myself, but will give the picturesque sketch of it written by my friend, Olin D. Wheeler, for the Northern Pacific railway’s Wonderland series of books. After reading the account of this trip given by Mr. Wheeler, the reader will find that there is a great contrast in the way of getting into the National Park now in comparison to what it was in 1880, and that vast change has taken place since General Sherman made his trip through the “Sioux Country” in 1877.

Speaking of the train he was about to take passage on, and which was standing in the station awaiting the hour of departure, Mr. Wheeler says: “At its head is a huge, ten-wheeled Baldwin locomotive. On each side of this machine there are three driving wheels sixty-two inches in diameter. As it stands, its length from peak to pilot, or in common parlance, cow-catcher to end of tender, is about fifty-five feet. From the rails to top of smokestack it stands fourteen feet five inches. With its tender loaded with coal and water it weighs nearly ninety-four tons. Behind this noble combination of iron, brass and steel extends a long train. First comes the mail car, in which Uncle Sam’s messengers run a traveling postoffice. Then follows the express car, carefully guarded by ever vigilant expressmen. The third car is the principality of the baggage man. Then follow the various classes of passenger coaches—the free colonists’ sleeping car, where man or woman may find a fair bed at night and a comfortable seat by day. The smoking car, and the first-class coaches with their high-backed, easy, reclining seats, are succeeded by the Pullman tourist car. Behind the tourist car is the dining car, which is a feature of this train. Behind the dining car are the first-class Pullman sleeping cars—from two to four of them. These are of the most approved type, with heavy trucks and wheels of large diameter, insuring smoothness of motion. This entire train is vestibuled and the car wheels are of paper and steel tired.

“But the bell of that monster engine is ringing, the conductor is signaling to start. Jump aboard and we will continue our dissertation as we glide swiftly along.”

The Northern Pacific through trains from St. Paul to Portland, Oregon, a distance of 2,050 miles, are of the same description, only on a larger scale. The average time these trains make is twenty-seven miles an hour, schedule speed, including all regular stops.

After describing his journey through Dakota and up the great valley of the Yellowstone for 341 miles in Eastern Montana until arriving at Livingstone, where the National Park branch of the Northern Pacific began and on which the tourist train continued to the country of wonders, fifty-one miles away, Mr. Wheeler was still in his observation seat taking notes of the grand scenery that the swiftly moving train brought to view. Again he said:

“The entrance to the heart of Wonderland is through an enormous gateway. The gateway, or opening, was made by a river, through a mountain wall, and it is known as The Gate of the Mountains.

“Through this gateway pours the river, fresh from the eternal snows far back in the mountains; from the great lake, a vast reservoir into which the melting snow banks drizzle in a million streamlets; from the wondrous canyon between whose divinely sculptured and colored walls it throws itself in an ecstasy of fury. Beside the stream lies a railway, which, following it in its sinuosities, leads the pilgrim to the very border of Wonderland. As the river flows out of the mountain gate into the broad, unpent valley, it seems to sing, in the words of Colonel Norris, whose name is indissolubly connected with Wonderland, of the region it is leaving far behind:

“After having passed through the gate of the mountains one is in Paradise valley, for such is the name of the beautiful valley which stretches up to the portals of Wonderland. The farther one invades these precincts, the more one comes to feel that the valley is rightly named. The great mountains, the very temples of the gods, loom high above. Mighty canyons, rocked ribbed, ragged, gloomy, forest-garbed, deep and fascinating, have been gouged from their very vitals. From out these latter the mountain streams rush, singing songs of deliverance as they dance down the long, sweeping slopes to the mightier river. In their courses the streams have been harnessed by man, and their fructifying influences are seen in the broad fields of waving grain and alfalfa that checker the slopes.

“Mountains, fields, streams, trees, slopes, form truly enough such a picture that the thought of paradise is borne in upon me.

“The scene changes! The mountains crowd together, the valley contracts, the rocky sides of the former rise high above, the river is throttled by craggy canyons and rushes madly along far below us—we are in a wild eyrie where the echoes of the iron horse’s brazen throat reverberate among the crags and cliffs. Sweeping through this scene of wildness we reach the threshold of the Wonderland of Wonderlands, nature’s greatest wonderland—

YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK.

“The scene here hinted at is that beheld by the tourist as he rides from Livingstone, on the main line of the Northern Pacific, up the valley of the Yellowstone to Cinnabar, the terminus of the National Park branch line at the northern edge or boundary of the great park.

“The valley is indeed one to arouse enthusiasm. At two places it becomes constricted, forming small but ragged canyons that but pave the way for the grander visions which, in the days to follow, are to break upon the eye.

“Well up the valley Emigrant Peak, a noble, snow-capped mountain of august mien, stands sentinel, thrusting his crown above brawny shoulders to a height of 10,629 feet.

“Just before reaching Cinnabar, Cinnabar Mountain, famous for its Devil’s Slide, is rounded. Soon there comes into view the giant peak of the region, Electric Peak, which, with its 11,155 feet of altitude, may well be termed the guardian peak of the park. Facing it, but of lower altitude, stands Sepulcher Mountain, a rough, imposing mountain, the origin of its name involved in obscurity.

OLD FAITHFUL GEYSER, YELLOWSTONE PARK.

“On the opposite side of the valley rise the sister peaks of the Emigrant and its companion, the Absaraka, the range swinging to the eastward and forming the eastern boundary and mountain wall of the park. High up on the flanks of the range in and about the town of Crevasse, men are toiling with more or less of success for the gold that everybody covets.

“But our train has stopped at the platform at Cinnabar. We step from the cars, ready, with our hand bags and bundles, for the next move on the program.

FIRST DAY’S RIDE.

“Soon there come prancing round the corner six splendid horses, drawing behind them a huge Wonderland stage coach. Another appears, and, if necessary, still others come swinging up to the platform to transport the waiting throng on to Wonderland. How the people scramble aboard! Some climb up the sides of the coaches to the broad, open seats on the roof, where they will obtain, as they ride along, unobstructed views of the landscape. Other, less agile or venturesome, clamber into the interior of the coaches, satisfied with less elevation, less sun, and nearly as much advantage in sightseeing. The bags and valises are strapped on the trunk racks behind the vehicles or thrown into the boots, the conductor calls out, “All set,” the driver tightens the reins, speaks to his horses, and the stage is off and away over the hills bound for Mammoth Hot Springs, seven miles distant.

“After a short ride, a collection of low and in some cases mud-roofed houses is seen. Through the heart of the little frontier town, Gardiner, the coaches carry us, when, swinging at right angle, we are soon skirting the Gardiner river, a typical mountain stream with which one falls in love at first sight. For several miles, first on one side then on the other of this torrential, beautiful river, the coach is slowly dragged up an ascending grade. The stream is beset with boulders against which, over which, under which, yea, through which, as one will easily see, the tremendous current dashes in a chorus of sound and a mass of spray. It is a royal trout stream and the heart of the angler leaps within him even as does the trout itself leap within the boiling waters.

“This stream of turmoils and fascination gathers its streamlet threads from widely extended sources. Much of it comes from the northern slopes of some of the mountains about the Grand Canyon, Observation Peak, Storm Peak, etc. Another branch swings around Bunsen Peak, forming an elongated horseshoe, and insinuates its watery tentacles among the slopes of Electric Peak—the south side—Quadrant Mountain, and Antler Peak. A sub-system of this branch stream—the Middle Gardiner, so-called—extends southward from the toe of the horseshoe, past Obsidian Cliff and Beaver Lake to the region about Roaring Mountain, nearly to Norris Geyser Basin.

“The scenery along the Gardiner is striking. The dun-colored clay and conglomerate walls rise in massive buttressed slopes surmounted by palisades, to a height of a few hundred feet on one side and 1,000 and 1,200 feet on the other. The eastern walls are by far the finer. Spires and pinnacles have been eroded from the soft earthen slopes and form conspicuous objects. The most striking and noted is Eagle Nest Crag, a solitary, rounded column upon the inaccessible apex of which is perched an eagle’s nest. Yearly the parent birds raise broods of young eagles whose protruding heads can frequently be seen and whose plaintive cries are plainly heard.

“Soon after crossing the stream for the last time a sharp ascent is begun. This continues until the hotel plateau is reached at Fort Yellowstone. As the coaches mount the grade the outlet of a river is seen on the western bank of the Gardiner. The rocky ground there is more or less broken and quantities of steam arise. This river flows from the hot springs of the terraces at Mammoth Hot Springs, underground through the hill over which the road winds.

“In olden days this was a favorite camping place. The hot water made bathing agreeable, culinary and laundry work easy, and if one was inclined he could easily catch his trout in the Gardiner and then, swinging his line, plunge the victim into Boiling river and cook his fish, all at one operation—so they say.

“Passing Fort Yellowstone when the plateau is reached, the coaches are whirled swiftly across a geyserie or travertine plaza, upon which the fort or cantonment—and it is one of the best posts in the country—fronts to the hotel, a mammoth structure which commands a fine view to the south.

“At last we are fairly within the great Yellowstone Park—the heart of Wonderland.

“From the time our train started from Livingstone until it again sets us down there, six days will have passed. When we leave the coach at the hotel the first half of the first day has passed into history. The afternoon will be spent in clambering over the parti-colored terraces of Mammoth Hot Springs.

“After the tourist has registered, retired to his or her room, performed the usual ablutions, and shaken off the dust of travel from one’s garments, the luncheon is eaten. It is then customary to make all arrangements with the transportation company, as a new order of exercises will be inaugurated upon the morrow.

“When next, we start, the coach, horses and driver, to which we are assigned, became ours for the entire round of the park. It is advisable, therefore, if particular acquaintances or friends desire to ride in company, to explain this to the powers that be, that such an arrangement may be effected. By the time this matter is attended to, the voice of the guide is heard announcing that all is ready for the event of the day—the visit to the formation, as it is termed.

“To the right, from the hotel front, rises Terrace Mountain. At the extremity of the plaza and at the base of the mountain as viewed from here, and a part of the mountain, rise the wonderful terraces. Even at this distance they present a remarkable appearance. As we approach them the singularity of their origin and appearance becomes more and more pronounced; but as we climb the slopes and view the pools of rainbow colored waters, and examine the terrace fronts with their infinite patterns of etchings and bead work, we stand in open-eyed amazement at what seems a miracle of creation.

MAMMOTH HOT SPRINGS.

“Whether we stand in front of the terrace walls and examine the exquisite chased work, built up by minute secretions from the hot waters as they trickle slowly down; whether we stand on the heights above and gaze upon acres of water divided and subdivided into many shaped basins, and so brilliantly colored as to seem impossibly colored; or whether, as we climb higher, and are transfixed almost, at the beautiful, delicate, fragile and algaic forms seen—it is all the same, we now begin to understand what the word Wonderland means, and are prepared for whatever we may stumble upon, and ready to admit that the half has not been told and cannot be—seeing only, if not believing, is certainly understanding.

CASTLE GEYSER CONE AND DIANA’S POOL, YELLOWSTONE PARK.

“The water found in these pools varies in temperature, but it is all hot. Some of the pools are very small, others almost lakelets.

“Such brilliancy of coloring was never excelled, and the variety of color, sometimes even in the same pool, is simply astounding. What one sees here is found upon successive terraces on the mountain side, and is reached by easy gradations by using foot paths or trails. After a time we are somewhat bewildered as to where we are, whether in the infernal regions; with the ancient deities; in a zoological garden; among Egyptian queens and mummies; where angels tread, orange trees bloom, or where railways are being built, or cupids shoot arrows.

“The Upper Geyser Basin is the goal of the tourist, so far as the geysers are concerned. There are here about a dozen geysers that expel the contents of their reservoirs to heights ranging from one hundred to two hundred and fifty feet. There are as many more that play to elevations less than one hundred feet. This family of geysers is like a large family of children; a strong family resemblance runs through all of them, but individually no two are much alike.

“The Castle has a very large, castellated, siliceous cone; the Grand has none whatever, nor is there any resemblance in their eruptions. The Oblong and the Giantess each expel their contents from deep, pit-like reservoirs, but there the resemblance between them ends. The Bee Hive and Old Faithful each have cones, as entirely unlike as are their splendid columns of water and vapor. Some throw the water as straight in the air as a tree stands; others hurl it out at various angles, or even in arches. Some send it forth in a solid, steady, majestic column; others in an irregular, churn-like fashion.

“But there are other things than the geysers here. Emerald Pool, Sunset Lake, and Black Sand Pool are, with one possible exception, the most delicate, beautifully colored bowls of water to be found in the park. The word color acquires a new significance as one stands at the verge of these truly heavenly pools, shut in among mountains.

“The particular attraction at the Fountain Hotel has been the Fountain Geyser near the hotel. This geyser has a basin some thirty feet in diameter, connected with another of about the same size just north of it. Much of the time these basins are full of water, thus, apparently, forming a large double crater.

NORRIS GEYSER BASIN, YELLOWSTONE PARK.

“In 1899 a new geyser, called the New Fountain, broke out in the north basin, resulting in a decided curtailment of the old Fountain Geyser’s eruptions. The new geyser is not yet old enough so that its periodicity and peculiarities are fully known. Its eruptions, however, are more stupendous and much beyond those of any other geyser which the writer has seen. Excelsior Geyser at Midway Basin, the greatest geyser—when it plays—in the world, is closely approached by this new giant, in both the magnitude and the grandeur of the display.

“The geyser is rather spurty in character, and when in full operation plays from three orifices. In its general action it is not unlike the Fountain or the Great Fountain. It will boil furiously and throw the water quite regularly to a height of ten to fifteen feet. Then, becoming semi-quiescent for a few moments, it will again break loose, and simply hurl into the air, with almost inconceivable force, a solid body of water of immense bulk, to a height of fifteen to thirty feet. Then changing again it will send upward an enormous volume of water to a height of 100, 150, or even, in exceptional spurts, 200 feet.

“After a period of momentary quiescence, the geyser will often break out with a violent explosion, when the scalding flood, transformed into millions of white, beautiful beads of crystal and spray, is sent in all directions, to all heights, at all angles, from the three apertures. The water is all torn to pieces and is thrown out and comes down, in a perfect avalanche. The geyser then is a very leviathan at play. It throws out pieces of geyser formation, bits of trees, and geyser eggs, as they are called, small, white, rounded, polished stones.

When the eruption ends it comes abruptly, at once, not as the Great Fountain’s, with a series of dying, tremendous throbs as if its great heart were broken. The eruption ceases, the great body of water drops rapidly down into the central cistern and runs into it from the geyser knoll in pretty little cascades, until the surplus is thus carried away and the water level outside of the basin is lowered. Then it is all over.

Regarding the Canyon let me again quote from Dr. Hill:

“And now I want to say a word in regard to the Grand Canyon. You stand on Inspiration Point and look down 100, 200, 300, 1,000 feet, and there, away below, is a green ribbon, worked in and out as if to hold together the lower edges of the canyon’s walls. It is the Yellowstone river. You look off toward the south and see, in a sort of recess, a little column of white. It is the Great Falls of the Yellowstone, 308 feet high. You examine the slanting walls of this tremendous canyon and you see such a display of color as the eye of man never looked upon. Someone has said that it looks like a blown-up paint shop. Just there to the right some huge pots of white and yellow and red paint have been tipped over, and it has flowed right down in parallel streaks to the water’s edge. Farther along is a gigantic tower carved out of a solid crimson rock. Here to the left all along are turrets and castles and cathedrals, there a Parthenon, over there St. Mark’s glittering in gold, there Taj Mahal, as white as spotless alabaster. Colors green and brown and saffron and orange and pink and vermillion and russet cover every rock until the scene is bewildering. What shall one say as he looks upon such a scene? Nature teaches us about God. Then the Grand Canyon has been cut and painted by the divine hand as if to give us some idea of John’s vision of heaven. Walls of jasper, streets of gold, gates of pearl, foundation stones of emerald and sapphire, and topaz and amethyst. Yes, they are all there. Who can look upon such a scene and say there is no God and no heaven?

GRAND CANON OF THE YELLOWSTONE.

“If the enthusiast wishes to get a sight of the canyon much different from any other, and in the opinion of many the finest obtainable, he should go beyond Inspiration Point. The Lower Mount Washburn trail leaves the road near Inspiration Point. There is an enormous boulder right at the intersection, of which more anon. Follow this trail for a mile perhaps, and a projection will be noticed leading well out into the canyon. From this crag the walls are emblazoned with every color or combination of colors that are probably to be found anywhere in the canyon. It is perhaps less brilliant than the magnificent array found at Grand View. In each case it is a canyon view pure and simple. The Lower Falls, so conspicuous a factor of the landscape from both Lookout and Inspiration Points, do not appear in either of these.

“I have mentioned a boulder at the junction of the main road and the Washburn trail. This boulder is worthy of inspection by tourists. It is of granite, eighteen feet high and twenty-four feet long by twenty feet in breadth, dark in color. It was transported from its native heath by a glacier and deposited where it now lies when the glacier receded. Mr. Arnold Hague of the United States Geological Survey states that the nearest point from whence it could have been torn is at least thirty or forty miles distant.

“To thoroughly appreciate, yes, I will say to fall in love with the canyon, one must needs see it under different conditions. See it when the sun is flooding it with noon-day radiance; when the winds sweep the masses of vapor through it, deluging its walls with moisture; when the sun is vanished from earth and evening’s shadows slowly creep from crag to crag and base to summit. To look upon the canyon when in the full glare of the sun, one would never realize what a softness and mellowness comes over it when the clouds hide the golden orb.

“I had seen the walls under varying lights and shades, but upon one occasion I saw it in a new dress. It had snowed somewhat during the night. When I reached the road at the canyon brink, everything seemed transformed. The trees were cottoned over with snow, the road was a white avenue, the rocks were whitened. But the canyon itself—what a change had come over it! The sun, of course, was invisible. The heavy masses of foliage that on either side crown the precipice with a ribbon of green were powdered with snow. The crevices and moderate angles of the walls wore a soft mantle of purest white. The other parts of the canyon were gently sprinkled with the fleecy material. The leaden clouds hung in parallel ridges above the gorge. Nature was in exquisite attire, and how softened! I wouldn’t have missed it for a good deal.”

After returning to the Mammoth Hotel with his soul filled with the wonders of nature, Mr. Wheeler said:

“As we leave behind these scenes, now almost sacred, we muse and then regret—regret that we had not arranged to spend at least another week here, and see more of what we have seen, and search out much that we have not seen.

“There are so many side trips that can be made, so much to study, such comfort and health in this elevated region, that now, when it is too late, we see where we made a mistake in not planning for a two-weeks’ trip. Well, there is this silver lining to our cloud: We can take the trip over again and spend a month, if necessary.

“And that is just what we determine to do some other year. So we reach Mammoth Hot Springs in a happier frame of mind, eat our last dinner in the park, mount the outgoing coach, and end our sixth and last day of our park tour by stepping into the Pullman car at Cinnabar and being whirled homeward at forty miles an hour.

“In 1885 Mr. Charles T. Whitmell of Cardiff, Wales, in a paper read before the Cardiff Naturalist Society regarding the Yellowstone National Park, said: ‘Were there but a living glacier and an active volcano the cup of wonders would be full.’ The volcano is yet to be found, but the glacier is there, was there when Mr. Whitmell made his address, but the existence of perpetual ice was not known then.

“About eleven miles southeast of the Hoodoo Basin, between Stinkingwater Peak (11,600 feet high) and Sunlight Peak (11,977 feet above sea level), the United States Geological Survey found a large glacier, or, indeed, a series of them. They gave to it the name of Sunlight Glacier. It is more than a mile across. The surface is crevassed with walls of clear green ice, and it has a typical terminal moraine. It is deep within the mountains, and in the summer of 1895 Col. W. S. Brackett of Peoria, Ill., and others saw it from a distance. Residents of Montana have also seen it. While it lies just outside the limits of the park proper, it is, notwithstanding, part and parcel of the wonders of the Park region. It is difficult of approach, owing to the rough character of the country.

“There are glaciers in the Bear Tooth Range, south of Red Lodge, east of the Park, and several on the Three Tetons, just south of it.”

Verily, the variety of wonders in “Wonderland” are many, and still they come. Many people have heard of Death Gulch, in a portion of Yellowstone National Park, where beasts soon die. This summer (1899) a party of Montana Scientists visited Death Gulch. “Truth is stranger than fiction, and Dame Nature herself has surprises that are past all perfect explanation.” The following is from the Helena Independent Sept. 16, 1899:

“Many persons have heard of the wonderful gulch in the northeastern part of the Yellowstone National Park named Death Gulch, but while accepting many other stories of Wonderland, have only passed this particular story by as a fabrication. The story is that all things living that enter this gulch never come out again. That was the story as it was once told, but a year or two ago a member of the United States Geological Survey wrote a scientific article about the canyon in which it was explained that only under certain conditions was animal life taken in the mysterious gulch. Even after that article appeared many who heard of the gulch and its strange secret called it all a fairy tale.

“A semi-scientific expedition of well known Montanians has just returned from a visit to Death Gulch and the Granite range. The party was composed of Rev. James Reid, President of the Agricultural College, Bozeman; Dr. Frank Traphagen, who has the chair of natural sciences at the college and who is a chemist of wide reputation; Peter Koch, cashier of the Bozeman National Bank and treasurer of the college, and his son, and Ed. C. Alderson of Bozeman, one of the best known mountaineers and guides in the state. Rev. Mr. Reid, who came over from Bozeman last week, said that the party had visited Death Gulch and that Dr. Traphagen, the scientist of the party, had made some interesting investigations. The trip was begun more than a month ago, and although the weather was not at all times propitious, it was on the whole an enjoyable outing.

“Death Gulch, said President Reid, is in the National Park, on Cache creek, about three miles from the point where it empties into the east fork of Yellowstone river, and twenty miles from Cooke City. Its sides are steep and high, but wild animals have no difficulty in creeping down to the bottom where there is a little stream. In the gulch, and within the space of a quarter of a mile, we saw the carcasses and bones of eight bears, one or two coyotes and an elk. All had met death in a strange, but, in the light of science, not mysterious way. They had been asphyxiated, nothing more nor less. Rising out of the bottom of the gulch is a gas resembling, and which practically is, sulphuretted hydrogen. The smell of the gas was strong upon us and could not be mistaken. This gas is poisonous, and I can readily see how, on a still, sultry day or night, the gulch might become filled with the gas and be a menace to every breathing thing that entered there. The day we visited the gulch there was a strong breeze blowing up the canyon, but, in spite of that, the odor of the gas was strong.

“The theory has been that the gas, being heavier than the air, settles in the bottom of the gulch, and that animals might die of it where a man who was taller than they would feel no bad effects. That theory may be all right, but I noticed that our dogs, who accompanied us, didn’t seem to feel any bad effects from the gas; however, as I said, the wind was blowing up the canyon, and I believe that on a sultry, still day the gulch would not even be a safe place for man.

“The bodies of the animals that met death in the gulch have been well preserved, the gas seeming to have the effect of embalming them to a certain extent. Two of the bears that we saw must have weighed in life in the neighborhood of four hundred pounds each. I suppose some of the bears have been attracted into the gulch by the smell of elk or other animals that have died there, entered in and been overcome themselves.

“Dr. Traphagen took several samples of the gas, intending to make some experiments with them upon arriving at his laboratory. How did he obtain them? That was a simple thing. He filled several bottles with water then emptied them at the bottom of the gulch. The air, impregnated with the gas, rushed into the bottles as the vacuums were formed. The bottles were then securely corked and preserved. Of course the gas obtained in that form was diluted, but it will be sufficiently strong, I believe, to answer Dr. Traphagen’s purpose.

“The Bozeman party visited the famous Grasshopper mountain, near Cooke City, the first published description of which appeared in the Independent less than a year ago. On this mountain, buried in solid ice and snow, are two strata of grasshoppers.

“There are many persons, perhaps, said President Reid, who may doubt the story of this wonderful mountain, but, after all, it is not such a strange phenomenon. The grasshoppers are certainly there, and while it is not an easy task to reach this mountain, which is in the heart of the Granite range, any one of a scientific or curious mind can convince himself by going there. The presence of the grasshoppers in the glacier may be explained by the probable fact that two great flights of the insects attempted to pass the mountain at different times, and, becoming exhausted or stiffened by the cold, lit upon its side and were buried in the snow storm.

“The expedition saw many glaciers and little lakes high up in the mountains of the Granite range, which was explored for the first time in 1898 by Dr. Kimball of New York and party under the guidance of Ed Alderson. Many of the lakes visited, said President Reid, are still frozen and most of them are surrounded by vast snow fields. Kersey lake, the largest one of these explored by the party, empties into the Broadwater, a stream larger than Clark’s Fork. The lake is about half a mile long, and was the only one visited where there was good fishing.

“The party had intended to make the ascent of Granite Peak, believed to be the highest mountain in the state, but owing to storms it was unable to reach the top. The mountain is about 13,000 feet high, and with Dewey Peak, 11,400 feet, and Snow Bank, 11,750 feet high, were named by Dr. Kimball and party. The East and West Rosebuds rise in the glaciers of the Granite range. The Granite range has been visited by but few white men. There is no big game among its glacier-locked peaks, and even the prospector has not penetrated its vastnesses.”

On account of its vastness the depth of its canyons, its perpendicular cliffs, and its high and rugged mountains, there is no doubt but that there are many wonders in the Yellowstone National Park region yet to be found.

It is not strange that foreign travelers have named it “The Wonderland of the World.” Professor Hayden, the chief of a division of the United States Geological Survey, said: “Such a vision is worth a lifetime, and only one of such marvelous beauty will ever greet human eyes.” I often think of the time myself and companions, in 1864, were within a few miles of this marvelous place prospecting for gold, and that those geysers were there then puffing and spitting out brimstone; and the indications show that they have been carrying on this wonderful performance for ages—wild animals and birds of the forest being the only audience to witness the play—not a civilized soul knew of such a place then, and, for that matter, for several years after.

All the natural scenery in the park is carefully guarded and is now as it was when first discovered. But millions of dollars have been expended in a mechanical way to improve the park. The drive that begins at the railway depot is 150 miles in length and is stocked with elegant stage coaches and cabs made especially for the mountain roads. Hundreds of horses are constantly at work during the summer season conveying the thousands of people from all over the world to and fro from one hot spring and geyser to another. There are hotel accommodations for a thousand people. The Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel, which is located at Mammoth Hot Springs, is a very large one. At other points hotels and lunch stations are maintained through the park season. These hotels are heated by steam, lighted by electricity, and supplied with bath rooms, and in one case—the Fountain Hotel—with water from one of the hot springs. There is also telegraph communication from this place in the heart of the Rockies with all the civilized world.

And it would not surprise me to hear that Old Faithful and Mount Ætna were whispering to each other through the means of the wireless telephone one of these days. Thus are the wonders of nature and of science—all in one.

The management of the park is under the exclusive supervision of the government. The military has general control of everything. A garrison of two or three troops of cavalry is stationed here, who are distributed in small patrols all through the park during the summer to protect the wild game that is there in abundance, principally elk, deer, buffalo and bears; also to see that no one carries away any of the curiosities in the way of specimens of the various formations, and to see that the forest is not destroyed by fire or otherwise. For the violation of any of the laws that govern the park a severe penalty is imposed. The same military force serves as a police protection to the people as well.

While this Wonderland is the property of the general government, it is in fact the pleasure ground of all nations.

Robert Vaughn.

April 2, 1900.