Your National Parks Part 3

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

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

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

Ancient Troy was nine ruined cities deep. But here in a national playground of our own country are twelve tree cities in ruins, one above another, and topped with a city of living trees. Like the excavated ruins of Pompeii, these ruined forests set one's mind to exploring the realm of imagination. Here in a subtropical clime, possibly a million years ago, was a luxuriant forest. Beneath was a crowded undergrowth of plants, of shrubbery and waving ferns. Gay b.u.t.terflies may have flitted here in the golden sunshine. Trees enjoyed the storms and lifted their heads serenely into the light.

Then came the tragic end. Twelve times or more was this impressive drama reenacted.

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

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

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

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

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

6. AREA; TREES, FLOWERS, AND ANIMALS

The Yellowstone Park is about equal in area to Delaware and Rhode Island combined. It has 3300 square miles. The average alt.i.tude is 7500 feet, while numerous peaks rise from 1000 to 3000 feet higher.

Forests cover 85 per cent of the area.

The largest parklike gra.s.sy s.p.a.ce in this forested realm lies to the northeast of Mount Washburn, along the valleys of the Yellowstone and Lamar Rivers. This open s.p.a.ce is about twenty-five miles long and from five to ten miles wide. The second largest area of gra.s.sy country, Hayden Valley, lies several miles to the north of Yellowstone Lake.

Among other open s.p.a.ces are Swan Lake Flat, Gibbon Meadows, Pelican Valley, and the small ragged areas around the Firehole Geyser Basin and Shoshone and Lewis Lakes.

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

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

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

7. ENTRANCES

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

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

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

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

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

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

8. ADMINISTRATIVE HISTORY

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

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

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

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

On August 20, 1886, came a change for the better. The Secretary of the Interior availed himself of legislation that Congress had recently pa.s.sed and called upon the War Department for a.s.sistance. Captain Moses Harris, with the t.i.tle of Acting Superintendent, became the first military commander of the Park. Reforms were inaugurated, and development was begun. This military control has continued for twenty years, and for the most part the results have been satisfactory.

General Chittenden, of the Engineer Corps of the Army, developed the present road-system. The character of the various military superintendents of the Park has been good, and the achievements of these men have won the praise even of those who are against the use of soldiers or military regulations in the Park government. I am particularly impressed with the work of the last commander, Colonel L.

M. Brett. The honor, ability, and peculiar characteristics of these military commanders have enabled them to do excellent work. On October 1, 1916, all troops were withdrawn from the Park and a force of civilian rangers was organized.

9. LOST IN THE WILDERNESS

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

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

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

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

Toward evening he realized that he was completely lost.

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

On the third day out, Everts started off to follow, as he supposed, the direction taken by his companions, but took the opposite direction. He pa.s.sed near numbers of animals. Finally he came to a small lake around which were many hot springs. In the water were many wild-fowl. He was starving, but had nothing with which to kill game.

Fearful as he was of Indians, hunger led him to hope that he might meet them.

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

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

To avoid freezing to death, he built a rude shelter of boughs over one of the hot springs. In the boiling water he cooked his thistle-roots.

For several days he remained in this shelter; then, realizing that if he stayed longer he might perish in another storm, he traveled on.

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

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

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

During a storm a benumbed bird fell into his hands, and he devoured it raw. In vain he tried to catch fish. As he stood on the margin of Yellowstone Lake, a gull's wing drifted ash.o.r.e. This supplied his only satisfying meal. It was instantly stripped of its feathers, pounded between stones, and boiled in a tin can which Everts had found.

Hastily devouring the unsalted soup, he lay down and slept for several hours.

He had resolution and will-power, and greatly needed them. His stomach rebelled at thistle-roots. His mind wandered. He lost track of time.

But his determination drove him on, though he was growing weaker each day. During the thirty-seven days he had traveled in a northerly course from south of Yellowstone Park to the summit of one of the bluffs, several miles to the east of Mammoth Hot Springs. Here, barely alive, he was rescued by two men of the final searching party sent out by his companions.