Merrill D. Beal

It has already been disclosed that Yellowstone Park has served the nation as an experimental unit in certain fields of conservation. While this is true, it would not be correct to regard the Park as the single place of origin for such a complex and salutary movement. Today the conservation of natural resources is one of America’s most popular and cherished causes, but it was not always so. A brief review of the conservation issue will provide a background for a correct appraisal of the position of the National Park System in relation to the nation’s over-all conservation program.

When the first colonies were established along the Atlantic seaboard America was a land of trees. This profusion of flora constituted an obstacle counted more serious than hostile Indians.[258] The natives had already fully cleared limited areas from the ravages of ancient fires, but the great forest stood almost limitless, and it was dense. Ambitious farmers yearned for the sight of bare ground; all trees irritated their eyes and caused them to reach for their axes. They wanted soil as rich as a barnyard, level as a floor, stone free, cleared clean of trees, without cost.[259] Except for the absence of trees, these amazing requirements were largely possible of fulfillment because never before had “heaven and earth agreed better to frame a place for man’s habitation.”[260] Here, indeed, was another Eden once it was redeemed from the leafy wilderness.

Colonials rallied to the challenge of a conquest over nature. They “drove” whole groves by partially felling each in a series and then touching off a chain reaction with the downfall of a ponderous giant. Thus did settlers cleave their way into the forests, rejecting in nature all that was not of immediate practical value. A little poem published in 1692 depicts their philosophy:

In such a wilderness ...

When we began to clear the land ...

Then with ax, with Might and Strength,

The trees so thick and strong ...

[These] we with Fire, most furiously

To ashes did confound.[261]

Next to the destruction of trees in clearing operations came the use of wood for fuel. A river steamboat or railroad locomotive required from twenty to thirty cords per day. “Woodhawks” literally denuded whole forests to supply these needs. Houses were largely built of wood, and it was liberally used in all domestic operations. In winter the family kept warm, not by securing “sich uppish notions” as blankets, but by throwing more wood on the fire, “nobody needn’t suffer with a great fire to sleep by.”[262] Rails were used in building fences at the rate of twenty-six thousand per section. The increase of population and acceleration of industrial activity in the early nineteenth century took a heavy toll from the forests. Fires were started by sparks from steam engines and by careless hunters, with the result that the precious blotter of humus, millenniums in building, was often destroyed in a flash. For two centuries America had advanced westward in a wood age, and trees were always in the way.

However, there were wise men who had always deplored tree waste. William Penn insisted that one acre of forest remain for each five cleared. Benjamin Franklin invented a stove to save fuel. George Washington and Peter Kalm warned of dangers ahead from floods and erosion through wanton clearing of land.[263] In 1813, Thomas Jefferson sagely wrote:

The spontaneous energies of the earth are a gift of nature, but they require the labor of man to direct their operation. And the question is so to husband this labor as to turn the greatest quantity of this useful action of the earth to his benefit.[264]

It will be noted that the foregoing suggestions were made by practical men upon sound considerations. However, there came an occasional complaint upon the philosophic and aesthetic level. Jonathan Edwards, AndrÉ Michaux, George Catlin, and William Cullen Bryant were among those who visualized nature as a dynamic organization of living creatures worthy of existence in their own right and for the joy they gave. Their appreciation is illustrated by this verse:

To be sure, little resulted from this approach; the time was not ripe. But these slender stirrings of thought and twitchings of conscience in high places were bound to be fruitful in results later on.

By the middle of the nineteenth century the springs and streams which had previously provided a murmuring labyrinth of dependable forest hospitality and protection had become irregular, undependable, and sometimes downright vicious. The lifeblood of the land, which, under nature’s balance, had throbbed daily and monthly almost as evenly as the sea, was now given to torrential rages in early June which were reduced to feeble trickles in July. Restless farmers found their plantings delayed until after the spring floods abated, and although the willing seed germinated quickly the tender plants were desiccated by midsummer heat. These conditions made it increasingly apparent that Americans would soon be compelled to approach nature as a friend rather than as an adversary. Any other course was suicidal.

By 1850 a new and more persuasive corps of conservationists was emerging. They affirmed that a nation desiring nature’s rewards must first learn her laws and then obey them implicitly.[265] They defined conservation as the protection and development of the full usefulness of natural resources, including forests, waters, minerals, scenery, and the land itself. Among these far-seeing men were Henry Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and John Muir. Through a persuasive campaign of lecturing and writing they established the plain fact that Americans, as a people, had never learned to love the land and regard it as an enduring resource. Rather had they viewed it as a field for exploitation and a source of immediate financial return.

Although the effect of these declarations was quite negligible, still Congress did appoint several timber agents in 1850. This was the first glimmering of a systematic approach to the inspection and policing of federal timber resources. But what have these humble beginnings in conservation to do with the Yellowstone National Park idea? Only this, a child cannot take a second step until it takes the first. Americans have never been particularly inclined toward sentimentality. A national pleasuring ground, such as Yellowstone Park, designed to serve “as a great breathing place for the national lung, as a place to which every American citizen can resort,” could not have come into being without considerable intellectual preparation.[266]

Congress could hardly be expected to enact protective legislation to stem this traditional exploitation until the idea of conservation became reasonably articulate and popular. Remember, that even at mid-century the thinkers were still groping for a program. Perhaps the first American possessed of both the appreciation and imagination to forecast what later evolved into the National Park program was George Catlin. When traveling up the Missouri River in 1832 he was so impressed as to write, “The realms might in future be seen preserved in their pristine beauty and wildness, in a magnificent park ... containing man and beast, in all the wild and freshness of their nature’s beauty.”[267]

In 1844 Ralph Waldo Emerson generalized upon the public need for recreational areas. “The interminable forests,” said he, “should become graceful parks for use and delight.” Henry Thoreau was even more penetrating when he wrote:

Why should not we ... have our national preserves ... in which the bear and panther, and some even of the hunter race, may still exist, and not be “civilized” off the face of the earth ... for inspiration and our true re-creation? Or should we, like villains, grub them all up for poaching on our own national domains?[268]

Perhaps these men reached these conclusions more by inspiration than logic, but in George P. Marsh, conservation had a sound advocate. He spoke and wrote with authority upon the principle of “conserving unique areas for their greatest values,” whether utility or scenery. In his book, Man and Nature, published in 1864, he argued persuasively for balanced economy and pointed to the fact of man’s ultimate dependence upon elemental things. These wise views concerning forest influences upon precipitation, springs, sand storms, floods, and man’s own property made a deep impression upon many people.[269] Since then the good work has been continued by other scientists. In 1948, Our Plundered Planet, written by Fairfield Osborn, reviewed the nation’s unpalatable record of negligence and waste. He characterized the Americans as energetic, destructive, violent, and unthinking. Considering the element of time, the United States has received more reckless treatment than any other segment of the world. As a result, vast resources are gone beyond hope of redemption, but others are renewable through the application of scientific principles.

The tide of the world’s population is rising; the reservoir of the earth’s resources is falling. Since World War II, America seems to be in the middle position of strain. In these circumstances, will it be possible to maintain and enlarge the standard of living as in the past eras? Fairfield Osborn insists that our attitude toward conservation holds the key to the problem. Success in this endeavor will require supreme cooperation among government, industry, labor, scientific research, and the public at large. Should this grand partnership eventuate, Mr. Osborn has promised that “no end is visible or even conceivable to this kingdom of adventure.”

Interest in these great truths is well established now and will not be permitted to decline, because America has many scientists at work in the field of soil conservation. This work is furthered by the specialists of the U. S. Soil Conservation Service. The soil experts constantly remind the farmers, and others, that America possessed an average top “black” soil depth of nine inches when settlement was first started. They now estimate the average to be between six and seven inches. Soil conservationists hasten to point out that rocks disintegrate slowly, and that ages, not centuries, are required for the growth and decay of plants needed in the production of rich humus soil. Soil scientists do not simply call attention to dangers. They have developed dependable and salutary cultivating practices such as contour plowing of tillable soil and terracing of range land. They advise plowing stubble and cover crops under to add fertility and cohesion to the soil.

Experimentation has been fruitful from the standpoint of discovering grass and legume adaptability to the different soil conditions. One phase of national security is contingent upon the effectiveness with which these practices are applied by all who work with farm, range, and forest resources. The record will prove that nearly 300,000,000 acres of land have been practically destroyed by erosion in the United States. Twice that acreage is rapidly deteriorating under the same forces.

Remember, that it was only a century ago when Americans received their first rudimentary lessons in exercising a little common sense in the exploitation of resources, whether for crops, lumber, mineral, livestock, or recreational opportunities.

Referring again to the status of conservation and natural philosophy in the middle nineteenth century, it should be noted that several California citizens first beheld the beauty of Yosemite in 1851. Inspired and overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of these high Sierra marvels, they returned to commune again and again. Artists, photographers, and authors joined the growing procession, and most of them concurred in the opinion that it was “the greatest marvel on the continent.” Increasing appreciation and popularity developed into a movement for segregation under state ownership and operation. In 1864 an application was made for a federal land grant with that end in view. A strong committee, headed by Israel Ward Raymond, drafted the resolution and passed it along to U.S. Senator John Conness. He presented a bill which was passed and signed by President Lincoln on June 29, 1864. The grant was given “upon the express conditions that the premises shall be held for public use, resort and recreation shall be held inalienable for all time.”[270]

The federal government was gradually warming toward the reservation idea in areas of little economic resistance from private interests. Even so, there was no thought of a national park program, but a tract of federal land had actually been made available to the general public for a strictly non-utilitarian purpose. The general direction was visible, but the course was not clearly charted.

Reflective visitors to Yosemite, such as Samuel Bowles, pondered a wider application of the land grant and reservation principle. It was in 1865, after Bowles viewed the glories of Yosemite, that he made this statement:

The wise cession and dedication [of Yosemite] by Congress and proposed improvement by California ... furnishes an admirable example for other objects of natural curiosity and popular interest all over the Union. New York should preserve for popular use both Niagara Falls and its neighborhood, and a generous section of the famous Adirondacks, and Maine, one of her lakes and its surrounding woods.[271]

Surely Bowles’ statement disclosed a profound appreciation of a growing need. He had found, as Dr. Hans Huth aptly says, “a formula not just for the protection of this or that area of interest to some group or other, but for a systematic approach to an overall system of protection of specific features of nature throughout the nation.”[272] However, one tremendously important element was still missing from the formula. It was simply a repetition of George Catlin’s proposal of 1832, in clearer terms to be sure, but still the all-important factor of bringing the program under the aegis of the federal government was lacking. This element was supplied by the Washburn-Langford-Doane party in their memorable campfire discussion at the junction of the Firehole and Gibbon rivers on September 19, 1870, when it was specifically proposed that the federal government should be induced to establish a National Park. Within less than two years the native virtue of the idea, backed by the rugged energy of its originators and others, resulted in the passage of the Yellowstone Park Act. Yellowstone, therefore, was the first federal venture in the field of protection. Hence, technically speaking, it may stand as the birthplace of the National Park Idea.[273] True, the issue of protection and conservation had a long history, but one doesn’t actually name a baby until it is born. In this light, the Yellowstone experience is the matrix in which the National Park Idea achieved existence as a new American institution.

Such is the partial record of many influences that culminated in the “Dedicatory Act” of March 1, 1872. In this chain of progress people associated with Yellowstone played a small but significant role. They helped translate a growing conservation movement into a fruitful channel. A fortuitous combination of time and place reduced opposition to a minimum. The next question would logically be: what contribution, if any, has Yellowstone National Park made toward the development of the present conservation program?

The creation of Yosemite and Yellowstone parks set a precedent for democratic control of natural curiosities, including scenic forests, but that was all. No action was then contemplated by Congress in respect to conserving commercial timber stands. However, Congress was plagued by petitions, and a few forward-looking legislators were endeavoring to formulate a basis for a forest policy. The American Association for the Advancement of Science advocated a program of tree planting, taxes to discourage hasty timber cutting, a forestry course for farmers, and the establishment of forest reserves. In 1873, under the guiding hand of Franklin B. Hough, the association memorialized Congress and the state legislatures regarding the cultivation of timber and the preservation of forests.[274]

That same year Congress appropriated two thousand dollars for a study of American forest and timber production. Mr. Hough directed the work and issued a series of reports. Secretary of the Interior Carl Schurz was sufficiently impressed by this survey to create the Department of Forestry within his department.[275] In addition, he appointed a forestry agent and sent him to Europe to study forest methods.

Such Fabian tactics suggest that the conservationists were not strong enough to really come to grips with the problem. But the leaders were alert, and in 1891 they made a notable gain by a devious maneuver. A conference committee of the two houses was adjusting differences in a bill that revised the general land laws. Advocates of conservation through their leader, John W. Noble, Secretary of the Interior, dominated the committee. It was he who suggested the inclusion of a new section, although that was a violation of procedure, which provided that:

The president of the U. S. may, from time to time, set apart and reserve, in any state or territory having public land bearing forests, any part ... whether of commercial value or not, as public reservations, and the president shall, by public proclamation, declare the establishment of such reservations.[276]

In that way Congress stumbled onto a plan which worked because, by granting reserve creating power to the president, the timber lobby was circumvented. This measure provided a definite wedge against the compact, aggressive forces of exploitation. President Benjamin Harrison acted promptly by creating, in 1891, the Yellowstone Timber Reserve in Wyoming. He, thereby, created the first National Forest, and before his term expired he set aside a total of thirteen million acres, all in the Far West.

Another side of conservation was inaugurated in 1872 when J. Sterling Morton of Lincoln, Nebraska, introduced a resolution for a state-wide Arbor Day. By 1885 the idea had gained enough popular support to warrant the establishment of Arbor Day as a legal holiday, and since then more than half of the states have followed Nebraska’s example.

However, it was a Pennsylvanian who became the most effective conservationist of all; Gifford Pinchot was well educated, energetic, and interested in the cause. As manager of the Vanderbilt forest interests in North Carolina he evolved a policy of perpetual timber yield. The indefatigable Mr. Pinchot was prepared to make a contribution to the conservation movement on a national level, and Theodore Roosevelt’s accession to the presidency in 1901 gave him that opportunity. President Roosevelt, also, brought much field experience to the conservation problem. His interest was one of conviction as well as good sense, sentiment, and politics. He viewed the presidency as a stewardship for the nation’s resources. More than anyone before or since he dramatized this issue. As head of the forest bureau, Mr. Pinchot became the President’s strong right arm, and together they made America acquainted with her conservation needs. A survey of national resources disclosed the fact that of the original 800,000,000 acres of virgin forest, less than 200,000,000 remained. Furthermore, four-fifths of this acreage was in private hands. Mineral resources, also, had been exploited as if inexhaustible. By propaganda, lobbies, public meetings, and conferences, Roosevelt and Pinchot focused attention upon abuses and neglect. Their watchword was that America’s natural resources must be administered in the interest of “the greatest good to the greatest number—and that for the longest time.”[277]

The general response to the President’s Governors’ Conference at the White House in 1907, and to other conferences, was most gratifying. Conservation agencies sprang into action on all sides. Even the National Lumber Manufacturers’ Association established new standards and specifications for the wood-using industries. The dynamic leadership of Theodore Roosevelt and his associates enabled the people to comprehend the basic relationship of conservation and national welfare. Almost everyone united in the view that a new frontier had been formed and its conquest was to be made upon the principles and forces of conservation.

Congress had led the way toward legislative regulation, beginning with the Yosemite Act in 1864, followed by the Yellowstone “Dedicatory Act” of 1872. Since then one legislative pearl after another has been collected and strung upon the fabric of the National Forest and Park systems.

Today there are thirteen federal agencies charged with the administration of the federal conservation laws. Consolidation of these bureaus would undoubtedly enhance the effectiveness of the over-all service. Besides that, there are forty-eight state agencies and, in addition, one hundred and twenty-four organizations of either national, state, or local character specifically dedicated to conservation.[278] From the origin herein described, the National Forest Service has developed until there are now 180,000,000 acres within the confines of one hundred and fifty National Forests. The administration of these far-flung areas is co-ordinated by twelve regional offices and other adjunctive agencies, such as experiment stations and laboratories.

The guiding philosophy of National Forest management is known as “multiple use.” This term describes a broad program involving the inter-relationship of wild life protection, livestock grazing, logging, mining, irrigation watersheds, wood chopping, recreation, summer home areas, and hunting and fishing activities. Railroads and other roads are built in National Forests according to plan and under supervision. How much of this esteemable policy and program has been derived from the National Park experience? The two services have developed simultaneously; as the boundaries of parks and forests often impinge, so have their policies. Both services have many ends in common; each learns from the other.[279] The essential differentiation of service lies in the difference between “conserving an area for its greatest value” and “utilization of resources in multiple purpose.” It is a matter of degrees of conservation according to circumstances. For example, public hunting is prohibited in all 23,899,030 acres of the 181 areas under the supervision of the National Park Service. However, the service itself may adopt a policy of fauna diminution.

Having sketched the history of forest and land conservation, it would be appropriate to similarly narrate the movement to conserve wild life. Until a half century ago the American attitude toward wild life was almost wholly one of indifference. The frontiersman killed a deer per meal and gave little thought for the morrow. Only the Indians were preservers of game, as the saying, “No Indians not much game; heap Sioux, plenty of buffalo, elk and deer,” so aptly attests.[280] It has already been explained how this difference in racial behavior eventuated in almost perpetual strife between white and red men. There were occasional exceptions, as in the case of Daniel Boone. In 1775 he proposed a measure for the protection of game in Kentucky because it was already necessary for him to travel a score of miles from home to find buffalo.

The pristine American wild life heritage was on a par with the endowment of forest and land. The toothsome white-tailed deer was omnipresent in the East and much of the Middle West. Other species of deer, elk, moose, bison, and antelope were in great abundance. Reports from Lewis and Clark, Zebulon Pike, J. J. Audubon, B. L. Bonneville and others prove that no pioneer ever pushed so far, or entered regions so difficult or remote, that he did not find a host of birds and beasts awaiting his pleasure and profit.[281] Man has always had a predatory disposition toward wild life, but this was not so serious in the ages of club, stone ax, and bow and arrow. American animal abundance was contemporaneous with these times.

Wild life conservation became an imperative issue only after the invention of flintlock, breechloaders, repeaters, automatics, and fixed ammunition. These weapons in the hands of commercial hunters, unscrupulous sportsmen, and “game hogs” threatened extinction of many species of life. Most devastating of all threats was the impact of the market hunter; no bird, mammal, or reptile species can long withstand such exploitation. Professional gunners who pursue creatures for money are invariably skillful, diligent, and persistent.[282] Often the sportsman is equally skillful and efficient in slaughter. The Earl of Dunraven left this description of a chase in the vicinity of Fort Laramie:

We killed elk, white-tail and black-tail deer, antelope, swans, immense geese, ducks and small game without count. This elk running is perfectly magnificent. We ride among the wild sand hills till we find a herd, and then gallop after them like maniacs, cutting them off, till we get in the midst of them, when we shoot all that we can. Our chief hunter is a very famous man out West, one Buffalo Bill. To see his face flush, and his eyes shoot out courage is a sight to see, and he cheers us on till he makes us as mad as himself.[283]

Concerning the high sport of the Earl’s party, Mary Kingsley made the witty observation that “In the course of these wanderings they shot ... every kind of living thing ... on the Western Continent ... with the solitary exception of their fellowmen.”[284] America has handled its wild life in such a careless, greedy fashion that several species of animal and fowl became extinct, and many others were brought within the range of annihilation. The danger point varies with each species, but there is an area for each wherein the survivors are too few to cope with circumstances, and recovery is impossible. This fact became quite clear to certain conservationists around 1900.

Outstanding leadership was provided by Madison Grant, John F. Lacey, Henry Fairfield Osborn and Willard Dutcher.[285] These men so wrote and spoke as to arouse the public and sting the true sportsmen into action. People who did not shoot were impelled to call a halt on those who did, particularly upon the lawless element. The public was assured that much could be done to save a wonderful inheritance. In order to finance the conservation campaign aggregate bequests in excess of one-half million dollars were made by Albert Wilcox, Mrs. Russell Sage, Charles W. Ward, and Mary Dutcher. President Theodore Roosevelt nourished the movement in every way within his power. He gave the vanishing species the benefit of every doubt. Under his direction five national parks, three bison herds, fifty-three bird refuges, and four game preserves were established.

Warnings and appeals directed toward conservation went through all channels, legislative, educational, practical, and sentimental. The farmers were assured that the rejuvenated bison, deer, and elk herds would not be allowed to roam at will over their valuable land. Rather there were millions of acres of brushy, rocky, and semi-forest lands, wholly unsuited for agriculture, in which the conservation work could be done. Sportsmen were promised opportunities for shooting plentiful game in open seasons as soon as the proper balance of wild life had been restored. Their response to this program has become increasingly impressive. They have effected almost innumerable associations designed to achieve these ends. Much thought and effort have been given to the cause, and they have contributed liberally, besides paying license fees. Revenue from all sportsmen sources must approximate a billion dollars a year. Hence, it is correct to say that combined sportsmen organizations represent one of the most effective agencies of conservation.

By 1912 the movement had achieved general acceptance. The Department of Agriculture issued annual “progress reports.” Every state had either a State Game Commission or a State Game Warden. Montana had established two state preserves. Several states were successfully experimenting with the introduction of new species of game birds, such as Chinese ring-necked, golden, and silver pheasants. The federal government had created fifty-eight bird refuges and five great game preserves. It had taken steps to protect bison herds in four national ranges, besides protecting the fur seal and providing hay for starving Yellowstone Park elk and others in the Jackson Hole area.

The efforts of government agencies were effectively buttressed by a number of private organizations such as the New York Zoological Society, National Association of Audubon Societies, Campfire Club of America, Boone and Crockett Club, and the American Game Protective and Propagation Association. Since 1912 gratifying progress has been made, although there are still many problems remaining. Yellowstone’s Park Biologist, Walter H. Kittams, and many other specialists are applying the best modern techniques of range management and wildlife management to effect a solution to these problems consistent with National Park Service ideals.

It has already been noted that Yellowstone National Park has served as an area of experimentation in the field of wild life management. When the reservation was established in 1872 a proposal was made to outlaw hunting. The suggestion was not heeded by Congress, and as a result trappers and hunters plied their trades early and late, seven days a week, month after month.

A representative description of wild life exploitation in the Yellowstone Wonderland may be found in the Earl of Dunraven’s book, Hunting in the Yellowstone. This is an account of his trip through the Park in 1874. While camped at Mammoth Hot Springs he wrote: “Some of us went out hunting and brought in a good store of fat antelope ...”[286] If that entry strikes a note of discord because of present practice, observe the significance of the Earl’s record in describing the following Yellowstone camp:

In the afternoon we passed quite a patriarchal camp [near Sheepeater’s Cliff], composed of two men, with their Indian wives and several children; half a dozen powerful savage looking dogs and about fifty horses completed the party. They had been grazing their stock, hunting and trapping, leading a nomad, vagabond, and delicious life—a sort of mixed existence, half hunter, half herdsman, and had collected a great pile of deer hides and beaver skins. They were then on their way to settlements to dispose of their peltries, and to get stores and provisions; for they, too, were proceeding down the river or up the canon.[287]

Within the decade it became obvious to Park officials that the fauna would not long survive this savage onslaught from squaw men, professional gunners, fierce dogs, and expert scouts and guides vying for tourist patronage. Along with this realization came another discovery; soldiers in remote stations had formed enjoyable companionships with wilderness creatures. These lonely men were delighted by the universally charming wild life trait of responding with confidence and alacrity to friendly human advances. It became increasingly apparent to the officials that Yellowstone birds and mammals would quickly recognize overtures of friendship and protection. The idea was advanced that nearly every species in the Park might become as tame as range cattle if given an opportunity to move safely within rifle-shot for several years. Recommendations to that effect forwarded to the Secretary of the Interior by Superintendent Norris in 1879 were passed on to Congress, and they played an important part in the passage of legislation on March 3, 1883, under which the killing of game was first suppressed. In subsequent years the laws were strengthened and administration improved. This was the beginning of wild life conservation practice by the federal government. Since then the various species of native fauna have achieved a generally satisfactory balance. The Park’s policy of protection can definitely be credited with saving the grizzly bear from extinction, and the trumpeter swan is receiving his chance to survive. It may be too late in this case.

Today the alert tourist may reap the reward of that wise and fruitful policy in observing mountain sheep, antelope, mule deer, elk, moose, coyotes, marmot, and squirrels as they roam around in the Park. Indeed, the quiet but energetic visitor who ventures upon the forest trails may even see the rare sand-hill crane and trumpeter swan. Besides, he will frequently hear the passing whisper of the honker’s wing. Actually, he may “shoot” both birds and mammals with the camera and take home trophies of everlasting enjoyment.

The wildlife policy of the National Park Service has evolved gradually, and is based upon long experience in preserving areas of outstanding significance. It has been determined that animals shall not be encouraged to become dependent upon man, and their presentation to the public shall be wholly natural. Every species shall be left to carry on its struggle for existence unaided, unless it becomes endangered, and no management measure or interference with biotic relationships shall be undertaken prior to a properly conducted investigation. Numbers of animals must not be permitted to exceed the carrying capacity of the range available to them. Predator species will be given the same protection as all other animals, except in special instances where a prey species is in danger of extermination. These principles, and others, control the actions taken with respect to wildlife, and assure the continued existence of native wildlife in our National Parks.