CHAPTER XVIII.

A TOUR OF THE PARK.

_The Yellowstone Lake to Grand Cañon of the Yellowstone._

Distance seventeen miles. The road follows the Yellowstone River along the west bank all the way.

Just after the tourist leaves the Lake Hotel, he will see on the right of the roadway a small monument. It was placed there, in 1893, by the United States Corps of Engineers to mark a position accurately determined from astronomical observations by the United States Coast and Geodetic Survey in 1892. It is of value as a point of reference in surveys and other similar work.[BL]

[BL] Latitude, 44° 33' 16.1" north. Longitude, 110° 23' 43.1" west. Magnetic variation about 19° east.

_Mud Volcano_ (7.5 miles) is a weird, uncanny object, but, nevertheless, a very fascinating feature and one which the tourist should stop and examine. It is an immense funnel-shaped crater in the side of a considerable hill on the west bank of the river. The mud rises some distance above a large steam vent in the side of the crater next the hill, and chokes the vent until the steam has accumulated in sufficient force to lift the superincumbent mass. As the imprisoned steam bursts forth, it hurls the mud with great violence against the opposite side of the crater, making a heavy thud which is audible for half a mile. These outbursts take place every few seconds.

A striking example of the strange commingling of dissimilar features in the hot springs districts is found in the _Grotto_, a spring of perfectly clear water, not far from the Mud Volcano. It is acted upon by the steam in a manner precisely similar to that of the Mud Volcano, but its waters issue directly from the rock, and are entirely clear.

_Mud Geyser_, now rarely seen in action, was an important geyser twenty years ago. As it became infrequent in its eruptions, and tourists rarely saw them, the name was unconsciously, but mistakenly, transferred to the Mud Volcano, which has none of the characteristics of a geyser.

The locality where these objects are found has considerable historic interest. The ford just below the Mud Volcano was long used by the hunters and trappers who passed up and down the river. Folsom crossed it in 1869, and the Washburn party in 1870. The Nez Percés encamped here two days, in 1877, and here transpired a part of the episode elsewhere related. Hither came General Howard, in pursuit of the Indians, although he did not cross the river at this point.

_Trout Creek_ (9.5 miles) has a most peculiar feature, where the tourist route crosses it, in the form of an extraordinary doubling of the channel upon itself. It was this stream which Mr. Hedges, in 1870, called "a lazy creek coiled up like a monster serpent under a sand bluff."

_Sulphur Mountain_ (11.5 miles) is half a mile back from the main route. At its base is a remarkable _Sulphur Spring_, always in a state of violent ebullition, although discharging only a small amount of water. This is highly impregnated with sulphur, and leaves a yellow border along the rivulet which carries it away. The best time to visit Sulphur Mountain is on a clear sharp morning. The myriad little steam vents which cover the surface of the hill are then very noticeable.

_Hayden Valley_ is a broad grassy expanse extending several miles along the river and far back from it on the west side. It was once a vast arm of the lake. It comprises some fifty square miles, and is an important winter range for the Park buffalo and elk.

The river along the lower portion of this valley is the most tranquil and lovely stream imaginable--broad, deep, transparent, flowing peacefully around its graceful curves, disturbed only by the splashing trout which inhabit it. There is little here to suggest the mad turmoil into which it is soon to plunge. At a point fifteen miles below the lake, the river and road are forced by the narrowing valley close together. The stream becomes suddenly broken into turbulent cascades as it dashes violently between precipitous banks and among massive boulders.

The road also becomes decidedly picturesque. Hung up on the almost vertical cliff overlooking the rapids, it forms a short drive unsurpassed for interest anywhere else in the Park. At one point it crosses a deep ravine over the highest bridge on the road system. Just to the left of this bridge, in the bottom of the ravine, still stands the tree upon which some white man carved his initials away back in 1819.

Half a mile below the head of the rapids, the river suddenly contracts its width to less than fifty feet, turns abruptly to the right, and disappears. It is the _Upper Fall_ of the Yellowstone. In some respects, this cataract differs from almost any other. Although the ledge over which it falls is apparently perpendicular, the velocity of flow at the crest of the fall is so great that the water pours over as if on the surface of a wheel. Visitors at Niagara have noticed the difference in this respect between the almost vertical sheet of water on the American side and the well-rounded flow at the apex of the Horseshoe Fall. The height of the Upper Fall of the Yellowstone is 112 feet.

From this point, the character of the scenery is wild and rugged. A ride of a few hundred yards brings the tourist to a sharp bend in the road, which at once unfolds to him the whole vista of the _Grand Cañon of_ _the Yellowstone_. The sight is so impressive and absorbing that the chances are he will cross the ravine of _Cascade Creek_ without even noticing the lovely _Crystal Falls_ almost beneath his feet.

[BM] See foot-note, page 168.]

The _Cañon Hotel_ is half a mile beyond Cascade Creek, in an open park, a little way back from the brink of the Cañon. From its porch, the crest of the Upper Fall can be seen, and the roar of both cataracts is distinctly audible. This hotel and that at the lake are the most desirable in the Park for a protracted stay.

The Grand Cañon of the Yellowstone is acknowledged by all beholders to stand without parallel among the natural wonders of the globe. Other cañons, the Yosemite, for example, have greater depths and more imposing walls; but there are none which, in the words of Captain Ludlow, "unite more potently the two requisites of majesty and beauty." The cañon itself is vast. A cross-section in the largest part measures 2,000 feet at the top, 200 feet at the bottom, and is 1,200 feet deep, giving an area of over three acres. But such a gorge in any other part of the world would not be what it is here. Its sides would soon be clothed with vegetation, and it would be simply an immense valley, beautiful, no doubt, but not what it is in the Yellowstone National Park.

There are three distinct features which unite their peculiar glories to enhance the beauty of this cañon. These are the cañon itself, the water-fall at its head, and the river below.

It is the volcanic rock through which the river has cut its way that gives the Grand Cañon its distinctive character. It is preëminently a cañon of color. The hue has no existence which can not be found there. "Hung up and let down and spread abroad are all the colors of the land, sea, and sky," says Talmage, without hyperbole. From the dark, forest-bordered brink, the sides descend for the most part with the natural slope of the loose rock, but frequently broken by vertical ledges and isolated pinnacles, which give a castellated and romantic air to the whole. Eagles build their nests here, and soar midway through the vast chasm, far below the beholder. The more prominent of the projecting ledges cause many turns in the general course of the cañon, and give numerous vantage places for sight-seeing. _Lookout Point_ is one of these, half a mile below the Lower Falls. _Inspiration Point_, some two miles farther down, is another. The gorgeous coloring of the cañon walls does not extend through its entire length of twenty miles. In the lower portion, the forests have crept well down to the water's edge. Still, it is every-where an extremely beautiful and impressive sight. Along the bottom of the cañon, numerous steam vents can be seen, one of which, it is said, exhibits geyseric action. In places, the cañon walls almost shut out the light of day from the extreme bottom. Lieutenant Doane, who made the dangerous descent several miles below the Falls, records that "it was about three o'clock P. M., and stars could be distinctly seen, so much of the sunlight was cut off from entering the chasm."

The _Lower Fall_ of the Yellowstone must be placed in the front rank of similar phenomena. It carries not one-twentieth the water of Niagara, but Niagara is in no single part so beautiful. Its height is 310 feet. Its descent is very regular, slightly broken by a point of rock on the right bank. A third of the fall is hidden behind the vast cloud of spray which forever conceals the mad play of the waters beneath; but the mighty turmoil of that recess in the rocks may be judged from the deep-toned thunder which rises in ceaseless cadence and jars the air for miles around.

[BN] See foot-note, page 168.]

To many visitors the stream far down in the bottom of the cañon is the crowning beauty of the whole scene. It is so distant that its rapid course is diminished to the gentlest movement, and its continuous roar to the subdued murmur of the pine forests. Its winding, hide-and-seek course, its dark surface when the shadows cover it, its bright limpid green under the play of the sunlight, its ever recurring foam-white patches, and particularly its display of life where all around is silent and motionless, make it a thing of entrancing beauty to all who behold it.

It is not strange that this cañon has been a theme for writer, painter, and photographer, from its discovery to the present time. But at first thought it is strange that all attempts to portray its beauties are less satisfactory than those pertaining to any other feature of the Park. The artist Moran acknowledged that "its beautiful tints were beyond the reach of human art;" and General Sherman said of this artist's celebrated effort: "The painting by Moran in the Capitol is good, but painting and words are unequal to the subject."

In photography, the number of pictures by professional and amateur artists, that have been made of this cañon is prodigious. But photography can only reproduce the form, it is powerless in the presence of such an array of colors as here exists.

The pen itself is scarcely more effective than the pencil or camera. Folsom, who first wrote of the cañon, frankly owned that "language is entirely inadequate to convey a just conception of the awful grandeur and sublimity of this masterpiece of nature's handiwork." Time has shown this confession to be substantially true. From the clumsy work of the casual newspaper scribe, to the giddy flight of that eminent clergyman, who fancied he saw in this cañon a suitable hall for the great judgment, with the nations of the earth filing along the bottom upon waters "congealed and transfixed with the agitations of that day," all descriptions do injustice to their subject. They fall short of their mark or overreach it. They are not true to nature. We shall therefore pass them by, with one exception, and shall commend our readers to a study of this great wonderwork from the pine-clad verge of the Grand Cañon itself.

The exception to which reference is made relates to the Grand Cañon in winter. It has been explained in another place why it is that the winter scenery of the Park must ever remain a sealed book except to those few hardy adventurers who are willing to brave the perils of winter travel in that region. It is a pleasure, therefore, to give at first hand what one of those intrepid spirits felt as he stood upon Lookout Point less than two years ago, and saw the famous cañon clad in its annual mantle of white. He says:[BO]

"I suppose thousands have stood grasping the stem of that same sturdy, ragged tree, and have looked in silence as we did. They have seen the cañon in summer, and I wish they might all see it also in the depth of winter. Now the glorious colors of the walls were gone, but the peaks and crosses and pinnacles were there, free of all color, but done in clean, perfect white. It was "frozen music"--the diapason of nature's mightiest and most mysterious anthem all congealed in white, visible, palpable, authentic. No thinking man could stand there and not feel the exalted and compelling theme go thrilling to his heart."

[BO] E. Hough, in _Forest and Stream_, June 30, 1894, p. 553.

Back perhaps a quarter of a mile from Inspiration Point, but within fifty yards of the brink of the cañon, is a huge rectangular block of granite which rests alone in the woods, a most singular and striking object. It is evidently an intruder in unfamiliar territory, for there is not a particle of granite outcrop known to exist within twenty miles. It must have been transported to this place from some distant quarry by the powerful agencies of the Glacial Epoch.

To the eastward from the Grand Cañon are several interesting hot springs districts, and there is one notable group at the southern base of Mount Washburn.