Chapter 21

THIS post is in a most dilapidated condition, and it--also the country about--looks as though it had been the scene of a fierce bombardment. And bombarded we certainly have been--by a terrific hailstorm that made us feel for a time that our very lives were in danger. The day had been excessively warm, with brilliant sunshine until about three o'clock, when dark clouds were seen to be coming up over the Bozeman Valley, and everyone said that perhaps at last we would have the rain that was so much needed, I have been in so many frightful storms that came from innocent-looking clouds, that now I am suspicious of anything of the kind that looks at all threatening. Consequently, I was about the first person to notice the peculiar unbroken gray that had replaced the black of a few minutes before, and the first, too, to hear the ominous roar that sounded like the fall of an immense body of water, and which could be distinctly heard fifteen minutes before the storm reached us.

While I stood at the door listening and watching, I saw several people walking about in the garrison, each one intent upon his own business and not giving the storm a thought. Still, it seemed to me that it would be just as well to have the house closed tight, and calling Hulda we soon had windows and doors closed--not one minute too soon, either, for the storm came across the mountains with hurricane speed and struck us with such force that the thick-walled log houses fairly trembled. With the wind came the hail at the very beginning, changing the hot, sultry air into the coldness of icebergs. Most of the hailstones were the size of a hen's egg, and crashed through windows and pounded against the house, making a noise that was not only deafening but paralyzing. The sounds of breaking glass came from every direction and Hulda and I rushed from one room to the other, not knowing what to do, for it was the same scene everyplace--floors covered with broken glass and hail pouring in through the openings.

The ground upon which the officers' quarters are built is a little sloping, therefore it had to be cut away, back of the kitchen, to make the floor level for a large shed where ice chest and such things are kept, and there are two or three steps at the door leading from the shed up to the ground outside. This gradual rise continues far back to the mountains, so by the time the hail and water reached us from above they had become one broad, sweeping torrent, ever increasing in volume. In one of the boards of our shed close to the steps, and just above the ground, there happened to be a large "knot" which the pressure of the water soon forced out, and the water and hailstones shot through and straight across the shed as if from a fire hose, striking the wall of the main building! The sight was most laughable--that is, at first it was; but we soon saw that the awful rush of water that was coming in through the broken sash and the remarkable hose arrangement back of the kitchen was rapidly flooding us.

So I ran to the front door, and seeing a soldier at one of he barrack windows, I waved and waved my hand until he saw me. He understood at once and came running over, followed by three more men, who brought spades and other things. In a short time sods had been banked up at every door, and then the water ceased to come in. By that time the heaviest of the storm had passed over, and the men, who were most willing and kind, began to shovel out the enormous quantity of hailstones from the shed. They found by actual measurement that they were eight inches deep--solid hail, and over the entire floor. Much of the water had run into the kitchen and on through to the butler's pantry, and was fast making its way to the dining room when it was cut off. The scenes around the little house were awful. More or less water was in each room, and there was not one unbroken pane of glass to be found, and that was not all---there was not one unbroken pane of glass in the whole post. That night Faye telegraphed to St. Paul for glass to replace nine hundred panes that had been broken.

Faye was at the quartermaster's office when the storm came up, and while it was still hailing I happened to look across the parade that way, and in the door I saw Faye standing. He had left the house not long before, dressed in a suit of immaculate white linen, and it was that suit that enabled me to recognize him through the veil of rain and hail. Sorry as I was, I had to laugh, for the picture was so ludicrous--Faye in those chilling white clothes, broken windows each side of him, and the ground covered with inches of hailstones and ice water! He ran over soon after the men got here, but as he had to come a greater distance his pelting was in proportion. Many of the stones were so large it was really dangerous to be hit by them.

When the storm was over the ground was white, as if covered with snow, and the high board fences that are around the yards back of the officers' quarters looked as though they had been used for targets and peppered with big bullets. Mount Bridger is several miles distant, yet we can distinctly see from here the furrows that were made down its sides. It looks as if deep ravines had been cut straight down from peak to base. The gardens are wholly ruined--not one thing was left in them. The poor little gophers were forced out of their holes by the water, to be killed by the hail, and hundreds of them are lying around dead. I wondered and wondered why Dryas did not come to our assistance, but he told us afterward that when the storm first came he went to the stable to fasten the horses up snug, and was then afraid to come away, first because of the immense hailstones, and later because both horses were so terrified by the crashing in of their windows, and the awful cannonade of hail on the roof. A new cook had come to us just the day before the storm, and I fully expected that she would start back to Bozeman that night, but she is still here, and was most patient over the awful condition of things all over the house. She is a Pole and a good cook, so there is a prospect of some enjoyment in life after the house gets straightened out. There was one thing peculiar about that storm. Bozeman is only three miles from here, yet not one hailstone, not one drop of rain did they get there. They saw the moving wall of gray and heard the roar, and feared that something terrible was happening up here.

The storm has probably ruined the mushrooms that we have found so delicious lately. At one time, just out of the post, there was a long, log stable for cavalry horses which was removed two or three years ago, and all around, wherever the decayed logs had been, mushrooms have sprung up. When it rains is the time to get the freshest, and many a time Mrs. Fiske and I have put on long storm coats and gone out in the rain for them, each bringing in a large basket heaping full of the most delicate buttons. The quantity is no exaggeration whatever--and to be very exact, I would say that we invariably left about as many as we gathered. Usually we found the buttons massed together under the soft dirt, and when we came to an umbrella-shaped mound with little cracks on top, we would carefully lift the dirt with a stick and uncover big clusters of buttons of all sizes. We always broke the large buttons off with the greatest care and settled the spawn back in the loose dirt for a future harvest. We often found large mushrooms above ground, and these were delicious baked with cream sauce. They would be about the size of an ordinary saucer, but tender and full of rich flavor--and the buttons would vary in size from a twenty-five-cent piece to a silver dollar, each one of a beautiful shell pink underneath. They were so very superior to mushrooms we had eaten before--with a deliciousness all their own.

We are wondering if the storm passed over the Yellowstone Park, where just now are many tents and considerable transportation. The party consists of the general of the Army, the department commander, members of their staffs, and two justices of the supreme court. From the park they are to go across country to Fort Missoula, and as there is only a narrow trail over the mountains they will have to depend entirely upon pack mules. These were sent up from Fort Custer for Faye to fit out for the entire trip. I went down to the corral to see them start out, and it was a sight well worth going to see. It was wonderful, and laughable, too, to see what one mule could carry upon his back and two sides.

The pack saddles are queer looking things that are strapped carefully and firmly to the mules, and then the tents, sacks, boxes, even stoves are roped to the saddle. One poor mule was carrying a cooking stove. There were forty pack mules and one "bell horse" and ten packers--for of course it requires an expert packer to put the things on the saddle so they are perfectly balanced and will not injure the animal's back. The bell horse leads, and wherever it goes the mules will follow.

At present Faye is busy with preparations for two more parties of exceedingly distinguished personnel. One of these will arrive in a day or two, and is called the "Indian Commission," and consists of senator Dawes and fourteen congressmen. The other party for whom an elaborate camp outfit is being put in readiness consists of the President of the United States, the lieutenant general of the Army, the governor of Montana, and others of lesser magnitude. A troop of cavalry will escort the President through the park. Now that the park can be reached by railroad, all of the generals, congressmen, and judges are seized with a desire to inspect it--in other words, it gives them a fine excuse for an outing at Uncle Sam's expense.

CAMP ON YELLOWSTONE RIVER, YELLOWSTONE PARK, August, 1884.

OUR camp is in a beautiful pine grove, just above the Upper Falls and close to the rapids; from out tent we can look out on the foaming river as it rushes from one big rock to another. Far from the bank on an immense boulder that is almost surrounded by water is perched my tent companion, Miss Hayes. She says the view from there is grand, but how she can have the nerve to go over the wet, slippery rocks is a mystery to all of us, for by one little misstep she would be swept over the falls and to eternity.

Our party consists of Captain and Mrs. Spencer, their little niece, Miss Hayes, and myself--oh, yes, Lottie, the colored cook, and six or eight soldiers. We have part of the transportation that Major General Schofield used for this same trip two weeks ago, and which we found waiting for us at Mammoth Hot Springs. We also have two saddle horses. By having tents and our own transportation we can remain as long as we wish at any one place, and can go to many out-of-the-way spots that the regular tourist does not even hear of. But I do not intend to weary you with long descriptions of the park, the wonderful geysers, or the exquisitely tinted water in many of the springs, but to tell you of our trip, that has been most enjoyable from the very minute we left Livingstone.

We camped one night by the Fire-Hole River, where there is a spring I would like to carry home with me! The water is very hot--boils up a foot or so all the year round, and is so buoyant that in a porcelain tub of ordinary depth we found it difficult to do otherwise than float, and its softening effect upon the skin is delightful. A pipe has been laid from the spring to the little hotel, where it is used for all sorts of household purposes. Just fancy having a stream of water that a furnace somewhere below has brought to boiling heat, running through your house at any and all times. They told us that during the winter when everything is frozen, all kinds of wild animals come to drink at the overflow of the spring. There are hundreds of hot springs in the park, I presume, but that one at Marshall's is remarkable for the purity of its water.

Captain Spencer sent to the hotel for fresh meat and was amazed when the soldier brought back, instead of meat, a list from which he was asked to select. At that little log hotel of ten or twelve rooms there were seven kinds of meat--black-tail deer, white-tail deer, bear, grouse, prairie chicken, squirrels, and domestic fowl--the latter still in possession of their heads. Hunting in the park is prohibited, and the proprietor of that fine game market was most careful to explain to the soldier that everything had been brought from the other side of the mountain. That was probably true, but nevertheless, just as we were leaving the woods by "Hell's Half Acre," and were coming out on a beautiful meadow surrounded by a thick forest, we saw for one instant a deer standing on the bank of a little stream at our right, and then it disappeared in the forest. Captain Spencer was on horseback, and happening to look to the left saw a man skulking to the woods with a rifle in his hand. The poor deer would undoubtedly have been shot if we had been a minute or two later.

For two nights our camp was in the pine forest back of "Old Faithful," and that gave us one whole day and afternoon with the geysers. Our colored cook was simply wild over them, and would spend hours looking down in the craters of those that were not playing. Those seemed to fascinate her above all things there, and at times she looked like a wild African when she returned to camp from one of them. Not far from the tents of the enlisted men was a small hot spring that boiled lazily in a shallow basin. It occurred to one of the men that it would make a fine laundry, so he tied a few articles of clothing securely to a stick and swished them up and down in the hot sulphur water and then hung them up to dry. Another soldier, taking notice of the success of that washing, decided to do even better, so he gathered all the underwear, he had with him, except those he had on, and dropped them down in the basin. He used the stick, but only to push them about with, and alas! did not fasten them to it. They swirled about for a time, and then all at once every article disappeared, leaving the poor man in dumb amazement. He sat on the edge of the spring until dark, watching and waiting for his clothes to return to him; but come back they did not. Some of the men watched with him, but most of them teased him cruelly. Such a loss on a trip like this was great.

When we got to Obsidian Mountain, Miss Hayes and I decided that we would like to go up a little distance and get a few specimens to carry home with us. Our camp for the night was supposed to be only one mile farther on, and the enlisted men and two wagons were back of us, so we thought we could safely stay there by ourselves. The so-called mountain is really only a foothill to a large mountain, but is most interesting from the fact that it is covered with pieces of obsidian, mostly smoke-color, and that long ago Indians came there for arrowheads.

A very narrow road has been cut out of the rocks at the base of the mountain, and about four feet above a small stream. It has two very sharp turns, and all around, as far as we could see, it would be exceedingly dangerous, if not impossible, for large wagons to pass. Miss Hayes and I went on up, gathering and rejecting pieces of obsidian that had probably been gathered and rejected by hundreds of tourists before us, and we were laughing and having a beautiful time when, for some reason, I looked back, and down on the point where the road almost doubles on itself I saw an old wagon with two horses, and standing by the wagon were two men. They were looking at us, and very soon one beckoned. I looked all around, thinking that some of their friends must certainly be near us, but no one was in sight. By that time one man was waving his hat to us, and then they actually called, "Come on down here--come down, it is all right!"

Miss Hayes is quite deaf, and I was obliged to go around rocks before I could get near enough to tell her of the wagon below, and the men not hear me. She gave the men and wagon an indifferent glance, and then went on searching for specimens. I was so vexed I could have shaken her. She will scream over a worm or spider, and almost faint at the sight of a snake, but those two men, who were apparently real tramps, she did not mind. The situation was critical, and for just one instant I thought hard. If we were to go over the small mountain we would probably be lost, and might encounter all sorts of wild beasts, and if those men were really vicious they could easily overtake us. Besides, it would never do to let them suspect that we were afraid. So I decided to go down--and slowly down I went, almost dragging Miss Hayes with me. She did not understand my tactics, and I did not stop to explain.

I went right to the men, taking care to get between them and the road to camp. I asked them if they were in trouble of any kind, and they said "No." I could hardly control my voice, but it seemed important that I should give them to understand at once who we were. So I said, "Did you meet our friends in the army ambulance just down the road?" The two looked at each other and then one said "Yes!" I continued with, "There are two very large and heavily loaded army wagons, and a number of soldiers coming down the other road that should be here right now." They smiled again, and said something to each other, but I interrupted with, "I do not see how those big wagons and four mules can pass you here, and it seems to me you had better get out of their way, for soldiers can be awfully cross if things are not just to suit them."

Well, those two men got in the old wagon without saying one word and started on, and we watched them until they had disappeared from sight around a bend, and then I said to Miss Hayes, "Come!" and lifting my skirts, I started on the fastest run I ever made in my life, and I kept it up until I actually staggered. Then I sat upon a rock back of some bushes and waited for Miss Hayes, who appeared after a few minutes. We rested for a short time and then went on and on, and still there was nothing to be seen of the meadow where the camp was supposed to be. Finally, after we had walked miles, it seemed to us, we saw an opening far ahead, and the sharp silhouette of a man under the arch of trees, and when we reached the end of the wooded road we found Captain Spencer waiting for us. He at once started off on a fine inspection-day reprimand, but I was tired and cross and reminded him that it was he who had told us that the camp would be only one mile from us, and if we had not listened to him we would not have stopped at all. Then we all laughed!

Captain and Mrs. Spencer had become worried, and the ambulance was just starting back for us when fortunately we appeared. Miss Hayes cannot understand yet why I went down to that wagon. The child does not fear tramps and desperadoes, simply because she has never encountered them. Whether my move was wise or unwise, I knew that down on the road we could run--up among the rocks we could not. Besides, I have the satisfaction of knowing that once in my life I outgeneraled a man--two men--and whether they were friends or foes I care not now. I was wearing an officer's white cork helmet at the time, and possibly that helped matters a little. But why did they call to us--why beckon for us to come down? It was my birthday too. That evening Mrs. Spencer made some delicious punch and brought out the last of the huge fruit cake she made for the trip. We had bemoaned the fact of its having all been eaten, and all the time she had a piece hidden away for my birthday, as a great surprise.

We have had one very stormy day. It began to rain soon after we broke camp in the morning, not hard, but in a cold, penetrating drizzle. Captain and Mrs. Spencer were riding that day and continued to ride until luncheon, and by that time they were wet to the skin and shaking from the cold. We were nearing the falls, the elevation was becoming greater and the air more chilling every minute. We had expected to reach the Yellowstone River that day, but it was so wet and disagreeable that Captain Spencer decided to go into camp at a little spring we came to in the early afternoon, and which was about four miles from here. The tents were pitched just above the base of a hill--you would call it a mountain in the East--and in a small grove of trees. The ground was thickly carpeted with dead leaves, and everything looked most attractive from the ambulance.

When Miss Hayes and I went to our tent, however, to arrange it, we found that underneath that thick covering of leaves a sheet of water was running down the side of the hill, and with every step our feet sank down almost ankle deep in the wet leaves and water. Each has a little iron cot, and the two had been set up and the bedding put upon them by the soldiers, and they looked so inviting we decided to rest a while and get warm also. But much to our disgust we found that our mattresses were wet and all of our blankets more or less wet, too. It was impossible to dry one thing in the awful dampness, so we folded the blankets with the dry part on top as well as we could, and then "crawled in." We hated to get up for dinner, but as we were guests, we felt that we must do so, but for that meal we waited in vain--not one morsel of dinner was prepared that night, and Miss Hayes and I envied the enlisted men when we got sniffs of their boiling coffee. Only a soldier could have found dry wood and a place for making coffee that night.

When it is at all wet Faye always has our tents "ditched," that is, the sod turned up on the canvas all around the bottom. So just before dark I asked Captain Spencer if the men could not do that to our tent, and it was done without delay. It made a great difference in our comfort, for at once the incoming of the water was stopped. We all retired early that night, and notwithstanding our hunger, and the wet below and above us, our sleep was sound. In the morning we found several inches of snow on the ground and the whole country was white. The snow was so moist and clinging, that the small branches of trees were bent down with its weight, and the effect of the pure white on the brilliant greens was enchanting. Over all was the glorious sunshine that made the whole grand scene glisten and sparkle like fairyland. And that day was the twenty-sixth of August!

It was wretchedly cold, and our heaviest wraps seemed thin and light. Lottie gave us a nice hot breakfast, and after that things looked much more cheerful. By noon most of the snow had disappeared, and after an early luncheon we came on to these dry, piney woods, that claim an elevation of nine thousand feet. The rarefied air affects people so differently. Some breathe laboriously and have great difficulty in walking at all, while to others it is most exhilarating, and gives them strength to walk great distances. Fortunately, our whole party is of the latter class.