Part 4

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 On October 1, 1916, all troops were withdrawn from the Park and a force of civilian rangers was organized.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

On the western slope of the Sierra, about one hundred and forty miles east of San Francisco, lies the Yosemite National Park, with an area of 1124 square miles. It is slightly larger than Rhode Island. Its lower sections on the west have an altitude of about 3000 feet. From this elevation it rises through bold terraces into the High Sierra. Mount Lyell has an altitude of 13,090 feet; Mount Dana, 13,050 feet. Gibbs Mountain and a number of other peaks have slightly lower altitudes. The elevational range, then, of this one Park runs through 10,000 feet, or nearly two vertical miles.

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.

Its glacial landscapes are magnificent and startling. Here the Ice King, the great landscape engineer, did work immensely bold and enchanting. An array of stupendous rock sculpture remains almost untarnished. Scores of lovely alpine lakes in solid rock lie open to the sun. The wild-flower population numbers more than a thousand varieties. It has scores of varieties of wild birds and many kinds of wild life. World-famous are its waterfalls.

Two of the greatest of mountain rivers rise in the Park and cross it from east to west. Each of them falls several thousand feet within the Park. Crossing centrally through the northern section is the Tuolumne. Passing miles of alpine rock and meadow, it roars through the rugged Tuolumne Cañon, and when well across the Park it sweeps through the majestic gorge known as the Hetch-Hetchy Valley.

Paralleling this stream at the distance of about ten miles is the intense Merced. This and its tributaries are signally rich in lakes and waterfalls, and they flow among stupendous and astounding glacial landscapes. At last the Merced flows serenely through the world-famous valley, the matchless Yosemite Gorge.

No name can suggest the amazing combinations of vastness and beauty seen in this rocky passage; the name "valley" is altogether lacking in significance. It may be described as having gorge walls with a valley floor. The walls have unshattered solidity, great height, and almost true verticalness. They bear the marks of individuality, and the valley-like floor shows original character.

The Yosemite Valley is obviously the greatest, as it is the most celebrated, scene in the Park. It is about seven miles long, approximately one mile wide, and about three fourths of a mile deep. The floor is nearly level and lies at an altitude of four thousand feet. It is well grassed, adorned with trees and groves, and glorified from end to end by the Merced River. The nearly vertical walls rise mainly in smooth, substantial masses from twenty-five hundred to nearly five thousand feet. Waterfalls from the heights above make the wild plunge over the rim down to the floor of the valley.

This gorge is countersunk into a plateau. It extends from east to west. The western and open end has an impressive entrance. On the left, El Capitan raises his colossal figure thirty-three hundred feet in smooth and simple massiveness. On the right, over the front face of the mountain wall opposite, flutter several hundred feet of Bridal Veil Falls. Then in order, on the right south wall, Cathedral Spires rise high above the valley; then Sentinel Rock; then stupendous Glacier Point. Farther east on the south wall, Half Dome stands up forty-five hundred feet, the most impressive figure on the valley rim. Farther along, on the right or south side of the valley, is the celebrated Clouds' Rest. On the left or north wall stand the Three Brothers. By these the snowy stream of the Yosemite Waterfall comes down. About halfway up the valley on the left are the Washington Column and the Royal Arches. Then, along the left or north wall in succession, rise North Dome, Basket Dome, and Mount Watkins. The upper part of the valley divides into three depressions or gorges. The north one is Tenaya Cañon, the central one is Little Yosemite Valley, and from this branches the southerly one, Illilouette Cañon. Each of these cañons is a wonder by itself.

Following is one of the most descriptive and eloquent tributes ever paid to this unrivaled array of stupendous nature statuary:--

Every rock in its walls seems to glow with life. Some lean back in majestic repose; others, absolutely sheer or nearly so for thousands of feet, advance beyond their companions in thoughtful attitudes, giving welcome to storms and calms alike, seemingly aware, yet heedless, of everything going on about them. Awful in stern, immovable majesty, how softly these rocks are adorned, and how fine and reassuring the company they keep: their feet among beautiful groves and meadows, their brows in the sky, a thousand flowers leaning confidingly against their feet, bathed in floods of water, floods of light, while the snow and waterfalls, the winds and avalanches and clouds shine and sing and wreathe about them as the years go by, and myriads of small winged creatures--birds, bees, butterflies--give glad animation and help to make all the air into music. Down through the middle of the valley flows the crystal Merced, River of Mercy, peacefully quiet, reflecting lilies and trees and the onlooking rocks; things frail and fleeting and types of endurance meeting here and blending in countless forms, as if into this one mountain mansion Nature had gathered her choicest treasures, to draw her lovers into close and confiding communion with her. (John Muir, in "The Yosemite.")

1. ICE-KING TOPOGRAPHY

The splendid scenic endowment of the Yosemite Valley, its stupendous architecture and vast sculpturing, its natural landscape engineering, are largely triumphs of the ice age. Many theories have been advanced to account for the origin and the extraordinary features of this valley, especial prominence being given to subsidence, uplift, explosion, with earthquake modifications and influences of violent cataclysmic nature. Stream erosion has been strongly urged. All these theories attribute minor influences to one or more other factors.

The theory now generally accepted gives ice the leading part in the scooping of the valley and the creation of its wondrous forms. There is much evidence to support this conclusion. The ice theory is championed by John Muir, by Clarence King, and by F. E. Matthes. Matthes and Muir probably have made the most careful and exhaustive studies of the geological history of the valley.

This famous depression is of varying width. Examination of its walls shows that in the wider places it is composed of fissured rock that was more readily carried away by the ice than the adjoining unfissured rock-sections. These resisting unfissured places jut into the valley.

Erosion by ice probably was preceded and somewhat guided by stream erosion. But this ice sculpture, the rock-forms and features wrought, must have been determined in a marked measure by the rock-structure. That is to say, the dense quality of the rock, the number and the position of the cleavage joints, or their absence in the rock, were factors that helped determine the rock-forms of Yosemite. Other factors since the ice age have altered or modified this glacial topography.

It is certain that a vast ice-stream poured over the walls and forced through this valley. This is shown in the rock-groovings and perched boulders high on the walls, and also by the massive moraine which dams the outlet of the valley. It appears certain that this must have been left when the ice vanished; and apparently it formed a lake that filled the entire valley nearly to the height of the dam. The lake finally filled with sediment and sand, its surface corresponding approximately with the present surface of the valley. The valley floor is noticeably smooth, and its margins along the bottoms of the walls are comparatively free from rock-débris.

The landscape of the entire Yosemite National Park is preëminently glacial. Ice-polished mountains and hundreds of sculptured figures of vast size are a part of the matchless exhibit of the ice age in this wonderland. Polished domes predominate. Much of the rock-surface was dense granite comparatively free from cleavage lines, soft materials, or stratification. The forms made by the ice in these have endured. Since the ice age the softer and more fissured rocks have been far more changed by the various erosive forces than the more resistant rock of the domes and other sculptured forms.

Little Yosemite Valley is essentially similar to the Greater Yosemite in features and also in the manner of creation. Its walls are from fifteen hundred to two thousand feet high, its length is about three miles, its width one half-mile. Its floor, like that of the Greater Yosemite, was for a time a lake. In origin and history, the Hetch-Hetchy Valley, too, is almost identical with the Yosemite.

Nature often changes the scene, often puts on a new landscape. The forces of erosion are steadily at work; most of them work slowly, but sometimes a change is wrought suddenly.

When the Sierra was first upheaved it was more or less tilted, terraced, and fissured. The surface was uneven. The present topography is the product of a long and complicated series of events. It has been wrought out by many erosive forces. It probably has been acted upon by two or more ice ages, but the last age shaped the splendid topography of the Yosemite that is attracting the world to the scene.

The eroding power of ice is determined by its thickness, that is to say, by its weight. The small, shallow glaciers wear much more slowly than the deep ice-streams that bear heavily upon the surface passed over. The ancient glaciers of the region took on vast proportions. An enormous and deep ice-field accumulated from the snows of Mounts Dana, Lyell, Gibbs, McClure, Conness, and other peaks. Flowing westward, it came in contact with Mount Hoffman, against which it divided. The right section flowed down into the Tuolumne; the left, a branch about two miles wide, swept upward, climbing about five hundred feet over the pass and descending upon the Lake Tenaya region.

Apparently, five glacier streams united in the Yosemite Valley. They not only filled it but deeply overflowed the highest points on its walls. Passing out of the lower end of the valley, the united glacier was forced to climb upward several hundred feet.

About twenty-five small glaciers still remain in the Yosemite National Park. There are about two hundred and fifty glacier lakes, mostly small. Others have filled with sediment and are hidden and forgotten. Lake Tenaya, the Lake-of-the-Shining-Rocks, has a surrounding of dense rock-masses that still show the rounded form and the high polish given by the ice.

2. TREES AND FORESTS

The tree growth and the forest arrangement in the Yosemite National Park are among the grandest of such features on the globe, and they form one of the chief attractions of this heroic realm. The trees grow to enormous size and are distributed and grouped with crags, meadows, terraces, cañons--all in unmatched wild, artistic charm and sublimity. Though some areas are covered with growths tall and dense, they are free from gloom, and everywhere one may walk freely through them. They are broken and brightened with numerous sunny openings. This splendid landscape gardening extends over the greater portion of the Park.

The sequoia, the largest and most imposing tree, is found in the lower reaches of the Park. Other characteristic trees are the sugar pine, king of the pines; the Douglas spruce, king of the spruces; and the hemlock, one of the loveliest trees upon the earth.

The Park has three groves of Big Trees (sequoias)--the Mariposa Grove, the Tuolumne Grove, and the Merced Grove, all of the species _Sequoia gigantea_. The Merced and Tuolumne groves are near the western boundary of the Park, several miles north of El Portal Station, while the Mariposa Grove is in the southwestern corner, about fifteen miles southeast of El Portal. The Tuolumne Grove has but about thirty-five trees, and the Merced Grove fewer than one hundred.

The Mariposa Grove contains about five hundred and fifty trees. Among these is the Grizzly Giant, which, according to the computation of Galen Clark, is six thousand years old. It has a diameter of nearly thirty feet and a height of two hundred and four feet. Evidently it was once much taller; its top probably was wrecked by lightning. Through the Wawona tree a roadway has been cut. A great number of these trees are between two hundred and twenty-five and two hundred and seventy-five feet in height. A few rise above three hundred feet.

In this Park are about thirty species of trees besides those above mentioned. Among them are a cedar and a juniper; two silver firs; yellow, lodge-pole, and six other species of pines. Among the broad-leafed trees are the oak, maple, aspen, laurel, and dogwood. There are forests of firs and lodge-pole pines.

The sugar pine grows to enormous size and has a noble appearance. Its cones are the largest produced by any conifer, occasionally reaching the length of nearly two feet. The yellow pine rivals the sugar pine in size and grows from four to ten feet in diameter and from one hundred and fifty to two hundred and twenty-five feet high. Among the flowering shrubs are the dogwood, manzanita, California lilac, wild syringa, chokeberry, thimbleberry, and California laurel.

I have seen the trees diminish in number, give place to wide prairies, and restrict their growth to the border of streams; ... have seen grassy plains change into a brown and sere desert; ... and have reached at length the westward slopes of the high mountain barrier which, refreshed by the Pacific, bear the noble forests of the Sierra Nevada and the Coast Range, and among them trees which are the wonder of the world. (Asa Gray.)

3. PLANT LIFE

The Yosemite ferns, forests, and flowers are growing almost exclusively in glacial soil. Nearly all of the soil in the Park is rock-flour that was ground by glaciers, and in part distributed by them. Landslides and running water distributed most of the remainder.

The Park has an altitudinal range of nearly two miles, with them any climates, and consequently numerous varieties of flora. These are encouraged by varied life zones that result from combinations of sunny and shady mountain-sides, unevenly distributed moisture, and the different temperatures that prevail between the altitudes of three thousand and thirteen thousand feet.

Here and there in the Park wild flowers may be found in bloom every month of the year. Among the common flowers of the middle and lower sections are seen the shooting-star, evening-primrose, tiger lily, yellow pond-lily, Mariposa lily, black-eyed Susan, lupine, paintbrush, yarrow, and snow-plant. There are violets, blue and red, a number of pentstemons, the lark-spur, golden-rod, several orchids, and the wild rose.

Many of the showy, crowded gardens of luxuriant wild-flower growths are in the moist fir forests. Among the tall flowers in these gardens are columbines, larkspurs, paintbrushes, lupines, and one of the lily families. The famous, fragrant Washington lily brightens the open woods; in places it grows to the height of eight feet.

The snow-plant is a curiosity and attracts by its brilliancy of color. The plant and bloom are blood-red, but this herb is as cold and rigid as an icicle. It is not a parasite, but is isolated and appears to hold itself aloof from all the world. When caught by late snows it makes a startling figure, but it does not grow up through the snow.

In the alpine heights are many healthy plants: the lovely arctic daisy, phlox, gentian, lupine, potentilla, harebell, mountain columbine, astragalus, and numerous other bright flowers. They grow in clusters and in large ragged gardens, and in places are low-growing and extremely dwarfed.

Besides its wild small plants and the blooming shrubbery the Park has a glorious wealth of tree blossom. The hemlocks, pines, firs, and spruces have a jeweled wealth of blue, purple, red, and yellow bloom.