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

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

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

2. THE DISCOVERY OF THE YELLOWSTONE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3. THE GEYSERS, LAKES, AND STREAMS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4. AGES OF FIRE AND ICE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

5. THE PETRIFIED FORESTS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

6. AREA; TREES, FLOWERS, AND ANIMALS

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

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

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

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

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

7. ENTRANCES

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

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

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

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

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

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

8. ADMINISTRATIVE HISTORY

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

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

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

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

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

9. LOST IN THE WILDERNESS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

II
THE YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK

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