CHAPTER VII

GEYSERS AND HOT SPRINGS

They were afoot before the sun had arisen next morning, and the outlook over the lake was beautiful. Away to the east and south were many mountain peaks, the names of which they did not know; but all grand and majestic, and far away to the south was one larger than any of the others, and covered with snow. As Jack looked at them, he saw these snowy crowns take on a glow of pink, and then grow brighter and brighter, and then could see the sunlight creep down the sides of the mountains, and finally it was broad day. The islands in the lake interested him, and he thought them beautiful.

As they passed the geologist's camp, they saw him standing with his back to the fire, and he called out good morning to them; then, signing to Hugh to draw near, he said, "Excuse me for asking you, but I suppose you have been to the Upper and Lower Geyser Basins?"

"Well," said Hugh, "we've been to one geyser basin; that one on the way to the falls, but that's the only one we've seen."

"Well," said the geologist, "of course you know your own affairs best, but it seems to me you will make a great mistake if you do not get to the Upper and Lower Geyser Basins, because it's there that the most wonderful geysers are to be seen."

"Well," said Hugh, "we're travelling through here to see the sights, and I'd be mightily obliged to you if you'd tell me what we'd better do. We are strange to the country, and don't know anything about it."

"I shall be very glad to help you in any way that I can," said the geologist, "and you certainly should not miss the geyser basins. You can follow the trail along the lake here for about twenty miles, and then turn to your right, at the end of the Thumb, and strike northwest across through the timber, to the streams running into the Firehole River, and follow them down, and that will take you to the Lower Geyser Basin; then from there you must travel up the Firehole to the Upper Geyser Basin. Then, if you want to, you can cross over to Shoshone and Lewis Lakes, and go on south, following Snake River, to Jackson's Lake. From there you can go wherever you please, but if you choose to follow up Pacific Creek, and pass through Two Ocean Pass, that will bring you back on the upper Yellowstone, and then you can come down to the lake again."

"Well," said Hugh, "we want to go south, and to get down on the streams that run into the Platte. I reckon we might as well go down to Jackson's Lake the way you say, and then strike across the country, over into the Wind River drainage, and then over onto the Platte."

"Yes, I guess that is one very good way to go if you know the way across the range," said their friend.

"Well," said Hugh, as he started on, "we'll try to find a way, and anyhow we're mightily obliged to you for telling us about those two geyser basins, and we'll sure see them before we go south;" and saying goodbye to their acquaintance, they rode on.

A few miles further along the trail, they came to a natural bridge, spanning a brook which now carried little water, but showed that in the spring it was much larger. The stream had burrowed its way beneath a dike of lava, at right angles to its course, and was bridged by a nearly perfect arch of rock, about six feet thick above the keystone. From the top of the bridge on its lower side to the bed of the stream is about sixty feet, and the bridge is twenty-five feet long, and the arch fifteen feet in width. The lava stands in upright layers, from one to four feet in thickness, and seems to have separated into these thin plates in cooling.

Beyond the bridge, the dim trail which they followed led for the most part through the pleasant green timber, but at midday they passed over several hog-backs, from which the timber had long ago been burned off, most of the tree trunks had rotted away, and only a few charred fragments of the roots remained on the ground. No young growth had sprung up to replace the old, and the ground was bare: not merely bare of timber, but bare even of underbrush, weeds and grass. Exposed for years to the full force of the weather, the rains and melting snows had swept away all the rotted pine needles, twigs and fallen branches which had formed the old forest floor and soil, leaving only the fine lava sand and gravel, without any soil to support vegetation. Dry, thirsty and desolate, these hog-backs resembled the desert, a barren waste in the midst of the green pine forest.

Hugh turned to Jack and said, "You see, son, what the forest fires may do in these mountains. When the timber burns off, unless there are seeds in the soil to spring up at once, the snow, melting quickly, washes away the soil, and leaves the rock, whether it is solid or broken up fine like this here, uncovered and without the power to support anything. Every year the snow melting quickly washes off a larger tract, and so these little deserts increase in size. The time is coming, I am afraid, when these mountains will all be burned over, and then what the ranchmen down on the prairie are going to do for water for their hay meadows and their crops I don't know."

"But, Hugh," said Jack, "aren't there laws forbidding people to set the timber on fire?"

"Yes," said Hugh, "there's plenty of laws, but the trouble is nobody pays any attention to them."

Toward evening they camped on the shores of the lake, at what Hugh supposed was the Thumb, and he told the boys that the next day he was going to start off northwest through the timber, and try to strike the streams leading down to the Firehole.

Making an early start, they rode up the hill, following a deep ravine through the cool green timber, over ground covered with feathery moss, where the hoofs of the animals made no sound as they struck the ground. Soon the lake was lost to view, and then, on all sides of them rose the tall straight boles of the pine trees. There seemed not very much life. A few small birds were seen in the tops of the trees. Some gray jays gathered near them when they stopped at midday to eat, and uttered soft mellow whistles, and two came down very close to Jack and Joe, and picked up little bits of dried meat that they threw to them.

Soon after they started on, they came to a stream, and following that down, about three or four o'clock rode into the Lower Geyser Basin.

Here was a large wet meadow, with green grass, and plenty of good camping spots; and before long they had the lodge up, and closing the door, started out to make a tour of the basin. The many geysers, large and small, and the wonderful hot springs of surpassing clearness and deep blue color astonished and delighted Hugh and the boys. Many of the springs were very hot, seeming to boil from beneath, bubbles of steam following one another to the surface, and then exploding. One of these large springs, about twenty-five feet long and more than half as wide, gave a vigorous display, beginning first to boil at the middle, and then to spout; at length throwing the water about in all directions, from twenty to forty feet in height. The margins of all these geysers and hot springs were beautifully ornamented with yellow gray and pinkish deposits of stone, which took the form of beads and corals and sponges, and all the tree trunks and branches seen in and near them were partly turned to stone. Close to the geysers were what are called the paint-pots. These are boiling pools of finely divided clay of various colors. The air seemed to be forced up slowly through the thick fluid, making little puffs, much like those that one would see in a kettle of boiling indian meal. Some of these paint-pots were very large, others small, and they were of a variety of colors--some red, some white, some yellow, and some softly gray. The clay was exceedingly smooth to the touch.

The Geyser Basin was long, and contained a great many wonderful springs and geysers, of which some, like the Grotto, had built up great craters for themselves, twelve or sixteen feet high.

The Grotto was at the end of the Lower Geyser Basin, and from here they turned back to go to their camp. Much talk was had during the evening of the wonderful things that they had seen, and of what they expected to see in the morning.

An early start brought them to the Upper Geyser Basin not long after the sun had risen. Not far from the Grotto which they had seen last night was the Giant, with an enormous crater, from which great volumes of steam were escaping, and where the water could be heard boiling below the surface, and occasionally rising in great jets which splashed over the top. They camped near at hand, and turning out their horses, proceeded on foot to see Old Faithful, the Bee-hive, the Giantess, the Grand, and many other large geysers, besides many hot springs wonderful in color and in the purity of their waters.

Just before they reached Old Faithful, the roar of its discharge was heard, and its wonderful shaft of water was seen rising, by two or three rapid leaps finally to a height of over one hundred feet, with clouds of steam reaching far higher, and drifting off with the wind. The great column of water maintained its height for fully five minutes, and then, dropping by degrees, it sank down and disappeared. All about the crater the naked shell of silica which surrounds it was flooded with water, so hot that Jack and Joe, who tested it with their fingers, shook them violently and at once thrust them into their mouths. The crater of this geyser is very beautiful. It stands on a little mound and is four or five feet high, and its lips are rounded into many strange and beautiful forms, beaded and shining like glistening pearls, while all about it are little terraced pools of the clearest water, with scalloped and beaded borders. The margins and floors of these pools are tinted with most delicate shades, white, buff, brown and gray, and in many of them are beautiful little pebbles, which are also opalescent.

Many cruel hands had been at work breaking down these beautiful borders, to carry them away, and people who had visited the place had scrawled their names on the smooth pebbles and in the beautiful flooring of the pools.

Hugh said to Jack, "Well, we come from the Indians, and we belong in a cow camp; but we ain't low down enough to spoil pretty things like these, by writing our names on 'em, are we, son?"

"No, Hugh, we're not," said Jack, "and I'm mighty glad of it. I don't think anybody that had any love for pretty things would want to spoil them in this way, or take any of this beautiful bordering away with them. You get these pretty things away from their surroundings, and they are not pretty any longer. It's like picking a beautiful flower and carrying it away with you; before you've got far, it's all faded and gone, and good for nothing except to throw away."

During the day, which seemed to them all too short, the geysers were good to them. The Bee-hive played, throwing up a slender shaft of water to a height of about 200 feet; the Grand Geyser sent up a stream eighty feet in height; the Castle played, but its exhibition was not very showy compared with the others that they had seen. But toward afternoon, the greatest of all the geysers, the Giantess, gave an exhibition of her power, throwing up a vast quantity of water, sometimes to a height of one hundred feet. While the geyser was playing, Jack and Joe brought a large tree stump and threw it into the basin, and it was instantly whirled to a height of 200 feet, looking at the last like a tiny piece of wood. The wind, which was blowing, kept the steam and water from going nearly as high as the stump went. The roar of the geyser was tremendous, and its force shook the ground all about, so that those who were looking on were almost afraid.

As they returned to camp that night they saw a party of tourists moving about among the geysers, and passing near they could see that they were busy with axes and a pick, cutting away and prying out the borders of some of the geyser pools. It was an irritating sight, but they could do nothing, and much of the way back to camp was devoted to talking of the wickedness of destroying the beauties of this place, and declaring that the government ought to do something to protect the wonders of the region from the destruction which constantly threatened them.

At night, after supper, they sat in the lodge talking about what they should do to-morrow, and for the following days. Generally, their idea was to travel in a southeasterly direction, and finally to bring up at Mr. Sturgis' ranch; but just how they should go was uncertain. Neither Jack nor Joe had ever before travelled in the mountains, and they were therefore quite dependent on Hugh for advice. Jack said, "Of course, Hugh, we want to get back to the ranch, but then, too, we want to see as much as we can of what there is in the mountains; but I suppose we'll have to travel by some trail or some road, because we can't take the horses everywhere."

"Well, that's so," said Hugh; "we can't go everywhere, but then again, when you are travelling with a pack train there's mighty few places where you can't go; you're mighty free and independent when you're packing. Of course you can't take a pack train up a cut cliff; but, on the other hand, the rough mountains and down timber don't cut much figure; you can pretty much always go round, and keep your general direction. You can go and come about as you want to."

"Well," said Jack, "of course I never travelled before with a pack train in the mountains, but I tell you I like it. It's a mighty pretty sight to see the white packs winding in and out among the timber, or to see them following one another along a narrow ridge, or zigzaging up and down a steep hillside, as we've seen them since we've been here in the Park."

"Yes," said Hugh, "it's a nice way to travel; of course it's a little slower than a wagon, and it takes you some time to load and unload; but then again you can often go straight, instead of going a long way round, and I like it."

"I tell you," said Joe, "I like to watch these horses. I don't know whether they've ever been in the mountains before, but it seems to me they're smart. They seem to know a whole lot, and I notice that when they're going along among the trees, sometimes I see a horse start to go between two trees, where I think there isn't room enough for the pack, but generally they get through. Then, sometimes, going under branches it seems to me that the pack has got to strike the branches, but the horses generally get under them without touching. Of course if they follow old Baldy close, there is always room enough; but now and then that dun horse tries to cut off a corner, and get in ahead of one of the others, and then sometimes I think he's bound to get caught. He only did so once, day before yesterday, and then he went between two trees where there wasn't room enough; then he pushed and pushed and pushed for a long time, and I had to run round in front of him and drive him back, and then he got out."

"Yes," said Hugh, "horses that are used to the mountains, or mules or burros, get to be mighty smart in going through thick timber, and if the packs are properly put on, there isn't likely to be much trouble, unless you strike down timber. Of course, down timber is bad."

"Well, what is down timber, Hugh?" said Jack. "I've heard of places in the woods back east where a hurricane goes along and tears up all the trees in a strip for miles in length. They call that a wind-fall there. Is that the way down timber is made here?"

"No," said Hugh, "we've plenty of wind here, but it don't often act that way. Down timber comes like this: say that you have a rough and rocky mountain side, where the timber stands thick, most of the trees will be from six to ten inches in diameter, but they'll all be pretty near of a size. Now, suppose a fire passes over this, and kills all these trees; likely it doesn't burn them to amount to anything, but it's hot enough to sort o' cook the sap, and kill the trees. They'll stand there naked, with the bark gradually drying up and peeling off them, maybe for twenty, thirty or forty years; and likely while they're standing there, there'll be a new growth of young pines springing up among them, and grow to quite a height. But after a while these dead trees get white and weathered, and the dead roots that hold them in the ground keep on rotting and rotting, and at last these roots become so weak that there's nothing to support the tall trunk that stands there, and then with every big wind that comes blowing along, some of the trees get blown over, and fall to the ground. They don't all fall at once, but some may fall to-day with a south wind, and some may fall next week with a west wind, and some the week after with a north wind. In this way they're falling all the time, and in all sorts of directions, and presently the timber will lie piled up on the ground there, criss-cross in all directions. Now, if the logs are not more than a foot or two above the ground, and don't lie too close together, you can take your train through them, but if they lie three or four feet high, of course the horses can't step or jump over them, and you've either got to go winding round among them, picking out the low places where the animals can get across, or else you've got to chop your way through, or else you've got to back out and go round. That's down timber."

"But Hugh," said Jack, "I should think it would be kind of dangerous to ride through one of those patches of dead timber when the wind is blowing; they might fall on you."

"Well," said Hugh, "so they might. I've sometimes had to ride through a patch of that timber when the trees were falling all about, but I never happened to have one fall on me, nor on any animal that I was driving. The chances are mighty few that you'll get hit. I mind one time a big tree fell, with the top about twenty feet from one of my animals, and threw dirt and splinters all about him. The horse was scared a whole lot, and ran away; but of course I got him again."