  Nathaniel P. Langford was appointed Superintendent of Yellowstone National Park on May 10, 1872. No salary was allowed, but nothing daunted, on July 4 he arranged to join the Snake River detachment of Dr. F. V. Hayden’s second expedition. This party employed as guide one Richard Leigh, better known as “Beaver Dick.” This picturesque squaw man and his wife, Jenny, with her brood, not only acted as scout but also as friend and entertainer. “Beaver Dick” knew the Tetons and south Yellowstone country like a book, and he regaled the company with many tales of hair-raising experiences in the wilds. They were respectful in the presence of one of the last genuine frontiersmen of the West. The new superintendent was characteristically indefatigable in his reconnaissance during this journey. Making personal side trips, he climbed the Grand Teton, called on Gilman Sawtelle at Henrys Lake, and joined Hayden in the Upper Geyser Basin by mid-August. Photo by IV H. Jackson Members of this same expedition also visited the Heart Lake and Norris Geyser-basins. Langford’s annual report of 1873 showed that five hundred people visited the Park that season. A request was made for an appropriation of $10,000 for improvements, but no funds were provided for any purpose. As time passed, the general situation became increasingly untenable. The frontiersman’s indifference to schedules and comforts caused much inconvenience and dissatisfaction to the travelers. A program of development and a system of concessions was imperative. Of course, these things would require time, planning, and money, but this fact was little recognized by newcomers. Langford was roundly criticized in the press for conditions over which he had no authority or means to control. However, during the winter he faithfully devoted his spare time to making plans, and his full time in summer was given to their execution. For five long years he gave the best that was in him, without funds or support, never losing his faith in the future of Yellowstone, and because of his enthusiasm his friends called him “National Park” Langford. In 1877 a new superintendent succeeded Langford. Philetus W. Norris, of Michigan, received the appointment, with pay, and the following year a $10,000 appropriation was made available “to protect, preserve, and improve Yellowstone Park.” Norris, although a rather quaint man, proved to be extremely zealous and energetic. On foot and horseback he eventually toured all of the Park and its immediate environs, considering a thorough personal exploration of Wonderland essential to a wise administration of his office. In 1878 he discovered Monument Geyser Basin, and later in the season an attempt was made to explore the Hoodoo area on the upper Lamar River drainage, but the Crow Indians challenged his right, and “Miller, Rowland, and myself, narrowly escaped.” Superintendent Philetus W. Norris
There is obvious exaggeration in Kipling’s description of wild life destruction by natural gases. However, evidence confirming the lethal power of Yellowstone’s natural carbon dioxide gas may be secured without going into the remote Hoodoo region. Birds die almost daily from inhaling the fumes that arise from springs on Orange Mound in the Mammoth Hot Springs. Park naturalists are in a quandary as to the procedure of warning birds concerning the danger. Norris wrote voluminously and accomplished much, leaving his mark and name upon various sections of the Park. He caused trails, roads, bridges, and crude campgrounds to be made, in so far as the limited funds would allow. A policy of wild life protection was also adopted. In 1880 Harry Yount was given the assignment as gamekeeper. Yount was a typical leatherstocking frontiersman. He was rough, tough, and intelligent. In the role of game protector he spent the winter of 1880 in the Park. He thereby became one of the first white men of record to spend the entire year in Yellowstone. The need of a game protection program was apparent from the outset. Indian, trapper, and miner visitations had taken a heavy toll of elk, deer, antelope, and buffalo. After 1872 tourist parties In 1876 William Ludlow, a government surveyor, was moved to write an effective appeal for game protection to George Bird Grinnell, editor of Forest and Stream. His argument was buttressed by many observations of the slaughter “of the largest and finest game animals in the country.” About this time Norris left the Park service, but before doing so he had completed and occupied a unique structure on Capitol Hill, called Fort Yellowstone. It was a blockhouse of hewn timber with a balcony and three wings, surmounted by a gun turret. He wanted to be prepared for the next Indian attack, while the problems actually confronting the Park officials were of quite a different character. Yellowstone was still a wilderness, and many visitors would not endure restraints. In 1883 Secretary of the Interior Hoke Smith caught two hundred trout in one day, and the next year Secretary of War Dan Lamont only caught fifty-three! Old Fort Yellowstone. In 1882 Patrick A. Conger, of Iowa, succeeded Norris as superintendent. His administration was weak and vacillating in practically every respect. Scarcely anything was improved, but all difficulties were aggravated. Vandalism, forest fires, and general mismanagement were added to the problem of vanishing wild life. John S. Crosby, Governor of Montana, wrote a scathing denunciation of the Park officials to the Secretary of the Interior, Henry M. Teller.
Robert E. Carpenter took office as Park Superintendent in August, 1884. In his view the Park presented an opportunity for personal and corporate exploitation. He was in full accord with a conspiracy to obtain private ownership of strategic locations. This scheme was advanced by an organization known as The Improvement Company which went directly before Congress with its proposition. In this effort, the nadir of private greed and administrative indifference was reached. However, the bad cause was lost, the superintendent removed, and a new and better administration came into being. In May, 1885 David W. Wear of Missouri brought intelligent and vigorous effort to the problem. At the close of the season he wrote a comprehensive report that carried a tone of real interest and purpose: “The discipline of the force was bad; no head to anything.... The game had been shot with impunity and marketed at the hotels.” During the season of 1885 a committee of congressmen visited the Park for the purpose of ascertaining how wisely the recent appropriation of $40,000 was being used and inquiring into the administration of laws. Therefore, the Department of the Interior called upon the United States Army to effect a new birth. This action was taken under the authority of the act of March 3, 1883, wherein the Secretary of War, upon the request of the Secretary of the Interior, was directed to provide:
Accordingly, on August 20, 1886, Captain Moses Harris with a troop of the first cavalry took charge. Detachments of soldiers were soon stationed at Norris, Lower and Upper Geyser basins, Canyon, Riverside, and Soda Butte. Old frontiersmen were notified to desist from their poaching activities; prowling Indians were ordered to stay away; forest fires were checked; and the tone of all departments of service and accommodation improved. The Hayes and Lacey acts granted the necessary authority in respect to leases, protection, and punishment. Captain Harris proved to be a forthright administrator. He established a system of patrols stemming out from the permanent stations. The patrolmen were instructed to not only follow the regular roads and trails but to occasionally visit unfrequented places. There were many frontiersmen who continued to ignore the Captain’s warnings about poaching. This challenge was accepted, and on August 19, 1888 a scouting party apprehended a trapper In the years that followed the cases of Tom Newcomb, June Buzzel, Jay Whitman, James Courtney, A. G. Vance, E. Sheffeld, Pendleton, and Van Dych were tried with various degrees of success. The most notorious case was that of Ed Howell of Cooke, Montana. Early in March, 1894, a party was organized to visit the winter range of the buffalo. Members were Captain George L. Scott, Lieutenant William W. Forsyth, Scout Felix Burgess, A. E. Burns, Frank Jay Haynes, Sergeant Troike, and two other noncommissioned officers. They traveled on skis, and when they reached the Canyon, Emerson Hough and Billy Hofer joined them. About twelve miles up Pelican Creek they discovered the cache of a poacher. Six bison heads were suspended in a tree. Several shots were heard, but as it was snowing the direction was difficult to determine. However, Scout Burgess was able to approach the poacher without being seen or heard, even by the dog. He got the drop on Howell, which was a good thing in view of the character of the man. The culprit was taken to Mammoth where the presence of the writer Emerson Hough and a representative of Forest and Stream The articles in Forest and Stream apprised the nation of the fact that there were less than one hundred head of bison left in the Park and that the government’s failure to provide real protection was threatening the extinction of all the larger animals. One side of the reaction was critical of the army administration. Said one observer, “I would rather have three good, intelligent, honorable men, inured to the life of prospector and hunter, in these mountains to watch the Park, than all the soldiers now there....” However, a constructive remedy was provided by legislation in the passage of the act of May 7, 1894. This measure positively prohibited hunting and trapping in every form, under heavy penalties. A clear-cut basis of jurisdiction was provided by the Vest Bill. A United States Commissioner was appointed, “who shall reside in the Park,” to issue processes and hear cases. An appeal from his decisions might be made before the Federal District Court for the District of Wyoming. Hon. John W. Meldrum was the first man to receive this assignment. He held the position until 1935 when he was succeeded by T. Paul Wilcox. Within a year after the passage of the Protective Act, Captain George S. Anderson was able to report that a healthy effect was evident. That was not the end of poaching because it has existed in a slight and subtle manner to this very day. However, around the turn of the century, the poacher gave way to the road agent as the Park’s most exciting criminal. W. S. Chapman In Captain Harris’ report of 1888 there is reference to a stage robbery of July 4, 1887. Subsequently, William James and a man named Higgenbottom were convicted and fined $1000 each and given a year’s sentence in the Montana State Penitentiary. Again, on August 14, 1897, two masked men held up and robbed six Yellowstone Park Transportation coaches and one spring wagon. The place of the robbery was between Canyon and Norris, the amount of the “haul” being over $500. These offenders were apprehended and identified as Charles Reebe, alias “Morphine Charley,” and Charles Switzer. They were also convicted, fined, and imprisoned. On August 24, 1908, on Spring Creek, one masked man successfully held up nine coaches carrying a total of one hundred and fifteen people. The booty collected totaled $1,363.95 in cash and $730.25 in watches and jewelry. The entire cavalcade consisted of thirty-two coaches, escorted by one trooper. The road agent did not show himself until the soldier and eight of the coaches had passed. Thereafter, each one was held up and ordered on its way before the next one arrived. The victims of this outrage held a meeting in the Lake Hotel and drafted a set of resolutions reviewing all of the facts. They complained because they were deprived of personal firearms and denied sufficient protection to life and property. They also petitioned for redress. These resolutions, together with the names of the victims, were printed in a souvenir edition and widely distributed. Perhaps the most daring robbery in Yellowstone history was executed near Shoshone Point, on July 29, 1915. It was there Robberies of a less dramatic character still occur. In 1941 two rangers fished several purses out of Cauliflower Geyser. They had been snatched from parked cars, rifled, and cast away, but the geyser threw them up, and they were used as evidence in effecting a conviction. Times and methods change, but crime goes on forever. Another problem that has constantly confronted every administration is vandalism. A vandal is any person who takes flowers or specimens and writes on or defaces natural objects, and his name is legion. The more cunningly contrived a work of nature becomes, the greater the temptation to remove it to one’s own premises. This urge reduces even dignified people to the most amazing behavior. They will pry and chop in such a way as to destroy an ornament for all time. Again, there is the untoward desire to throw tokens, small coins, bottles, poles, and detritus into pools and geysers “just to see what will happen.” Not even Old Faithful is exempt from this wantonness. It is a matter of record that one party, wishing to experiment, filled its orifice “with at least a thousand pounds of stones, trees, and stumps” and then sat down to await further developments. Another group wrote this shameless account: “We abused that spring [geyser] with everything in our power. We threw sticks into it and stones, but it was no use; nothing would rile it.” The offense of “soaping” geysers is said to have originated in 1885 when a Chinaman encompassed a small spring with his tent and started a laundry. When the spring became impregnated with soap there was an eruption, and up went tent, washing, and Chinaman! It is a fact that soap produces viscosity which retains heat, and as steam rises it may aid explosive action. Hence, if some visitors could have their way, the beautiful sapphire springs and geysers would be “in the suds” constantly throughout the season. In recent years Park officials have been greatly distressed by another type of violation. Large numbers of people are disposed to cast tax tokens and pennies into the otherwise beautiful hot springs and geysers. Familiar with wishing wells in commercial resorts, they fall short in adjusting to national park standards of conduct. As one ranger said, “They forget what kind of animal throws a (s)cent!” Many lovers of Yellowstone would like to see the rangers crack down upon rule violators with a vengeance. They argue that a full 10 per cent of the human race will lie, steal, and destroy flora, fauna, and features whenever and wherever they find a chance to do so. Of course, the rangers are quick in recognizing varying degrees of moral and social responsibility. Their policy to The problem of forest fires causes much concern during July and August. Fires may start from natural causes, as from lightning, and friction caused by trees rubbing together during violent windstorms, but about 50 per cent of them are caused by the carelessness of man. Of course, nature manages to extinguish forest fires eventually, but man has learned to cooperate. The officials have developed efficiency in organization and methods of fighting fires. Major lookouts are established upon Mt. Washburn, Mt. Holmes, Mt. Sheridan, Purple Mountain, and Pelican Cone. Lookouts also stand guard in other strategic positions. Fireguards are employed to clear trails and be available on a moment’s notice. District rangers train and direct employees within their jurisdictions and take daily “fire weather” readings. Tools, equipment, and provisions are always packed and ready for action. When a fire breaks out a base camp is set up at a road terminal; from there the flow of men and supplies is governed through radio communication. Fire camps are established in safe places, by the water supply nearest the burning area. Tools, sleeping bags, and food reach the fire camp on the backs of mules, by reason of the skill of expert packers. However, airplanes are sometimes used in parachuting fighters and supplies to the spot in a hurry. Accepted principles of procedure consist of: speed in the first instance before the fire “blows up”; striking hard at daybreak after it has calmed down and before the wind fans it; cutting a line with saw and ax; trenching it in with shovel and Pulaski; using pumps where possible; and always praying for rain. Fighting fire is an arduous, dirty business. Yellowstone forests are predominantly of lodgepole pine. This species is thin-skinned and non-resistant to fire, but it takes pains to store its seeds up in tightly closed cones. These hold the seed fertile for several years. Thus, although raging fire may devour It has been observed that lodgepole forests are not very valuable for lumber; neither do they present the most attractive appearance. Still, the trees grow profusely, and in so doing they provide an excellent agency for water conservation. Let fire destroy the forests upon the sources of the Snake and Yellowstone rivers, and many of the present garden spots of the West would be added to her barren wastes. Therefore, in the mature opinion of many experts, the forests of this area are more valuable in the conservation of soil and water than they would be for grazing and lumbering. The present policy will keep the mountains at home, prevent floods, and assure a more constant water supply. Perhaps the most tantalizing problem has arisen from the half-century application of the Protective Act of 1894, wherein:
Wild and dangerous despite appearances. People possessing firearms must have them sealed upon entering the Park. Thus, the animal inhabitants virtually enjoy a natural life expectancy so far as man is concerned. It should be emphasized that in the case of black bear human contacts are fraught with dire consequences for all concerned. Approximately a hundred tourists sustain bear bites or scratches each season, and many bears are killed for these offenses. Park officials frequently doubt the possibility of reconciling the presence of black bear and people. If the latter were governed by the principle of intelligence, it would be an easy matter. But they simply refuse to believe that the bears are wild. As a result, they take privileges with a mother and cubs which no one would ever think of trying with a neighbor’s hound. It is admitted by all that black bear cubs are among nature’s most interesting creatures. They are the “Happy Hooligans” and “Katzenjammer Kids” of the Park. What a spectacle they provide, standing Jesse James-like along the highway, tumbling over each other in fun, or scampering up a tree in fright! “Do you mean to tell me those cute creatures will harm anyone?” says a lady, “Why they smile and wiggle their tails in the most cunning manner!” “Yes, lady,” replies the ranger, “but you must not believe either end of a bear.” When a serious injury or a death occurs strong resentment is expressed against the administration. It is advised to decide either to turn the Park over to the bears or to the people. Then a party of tourists expresses great disappointment over not having been “held up” by a bear. What will be the outcome of this tug-of-war? It is to be hoped that the public will eventually learn to obey the regulation, “Do Not Feed or Molest the Bears.” Grizzly, king of the Rockies. The American bison was probably saved from extinction in Yellowstone. Although native to the region, the joint ravages of poachers and septicemia finally reduced the herd to a mere remnant. A reduction policy has also been adopted to control the northern elk herd. Summer is lavish in its gifts to Park elk. Lush grasses, shady dells, and cool weather make an ideal condition for them. Fall finds them fat and sleek, with bulls bugling in every glen. Perhaps the summer range is adequate for thousands of them, but then winter comes, with its weakening cold and deepening snows, and they are forced by storms into restricted areas where hunger stalks them on every side. It is evident, therefore, that the maximum must be limited by the winter range capacity. In view of these conditions the officials of the Park and the state of Montana have worked out a satisfactory policy of diminution. A number of elk-hunting permits are issued to citizens who foregather along the northern boundary to participate in a bombardment that is swift and effective. In this manner the Park herd is kept in balance, and surplus elk do not migrate to the valleys to bother the ranchers. Of course an advantage accrues to these hunters because each one is very sure of getting his elk. This program should preclude a repetition of the agitation aroused during World War I when proposals were pressed upon the Food Administrator to allow hunting parties a free reign in securing Park elk and buffalo. More serious attempts to invade the Park’s wilderness area came In 1919 an irrigation project was sponsored by Idaho interests. It was a comprehensive plan that contemplated a dam on Yellowstone River, thereby raising the level of Yellowstone Lake. The water from this mighty reservoir would then be tapped by a tunnel through the Continental Divide, which would deliver the water into the Snake River. Other dams were designed to impound water along Fall and Bechler rivers. When bills S3925 and H.R.10469 reached their respective floors they were subjected to strong denunciation and defeated. The movement for the extension of the Northern Pacific Railroad from Cinnabar to Cooke City, Montana, was not so easily arrested. From the first discovery of gold on Clarks Fork, in 1870, there had been a campaign for a railroad, as the early prospects were promising. However, little progress was made, and when the railroad bill of 1894 was defeated certain mining interests in Montana became alarmingly hostile. Frustrated in the extension of a line through the only accessible route, because of National Park sentiment, these interests came out for segregation. On March 1, 1894, the Helena Independent declared:
The Livingston Post struck a more ominous note in its issue of November 30 of the same year:
In his report of 1895 Captain George S. Anderson, Acting Superintendent, quietly exulted, “It is a pleasure to note that the various bills for the segregation of the Park were killed in the last Congress.” Throughout the years the reports of the army superintendents conformed to a regular pattern about travel, roads, concessions, wild animals, fish, protection of natural phenomena, accommodations, fires, sanitation, violations, and recommendations. Whether captains, majors, colonels, or generals, these army men performed commendable service. Still, it was an army regime dealing with a civilian situation. Hence, there were some incongruities and many deficiencies. What were the facts relative to the army administration in Yellowstone? Did conditions warrant a change? The circumstances responsible for the assignment in 1884 have been given. Two troops of cavalry comprised the normal complement. A main base, called Camp Sheridan, was established in Mammoth, and a series of stations were located at the principal points of interest. At these posts detachments of soldiers acted as guardians of their respective domains. From each station daily mounted patrols started toward Each soldier carried a bucket and shovel as defense against fire and a little book of Rules, Regulations and Instructions, called the “bible,” to prepare him for any contingency. Among his routine instructions these orders appear: “... kill mountain lions, coyotes and timber wolves ... permit no cats and dogs ... keep pack trains off the road when vehicles are passing ... allow no one to approach within one hundred yards of bears....” Each patrolman was required to record his daily activities in a journal and turn it over to his commanding officer. A perusal of these journal records is, on the whole, rather dull. The reading is not equal to the performance because spelling and diction were not among the soldiers’ qualifications for duty. Still, there are occasions when, although “the letter killeth, the spirit giveth life.” Incidents dealing with clues leading to the arrest of poachers and road agents, seizure of vandals, searches for lost persons, rescues of people treed by grizzlies and moose, or breakdowns, tip-overs, and runaways fairly shine with the excitement of the time. The soldiers had the finest western horses:
The soldier’s uniform consisted of a dark blue blouse and light blue trousers, unstrapped and cut spoonshape over the boot, cartridge belt, revolver, peaked cap, and worsted gloves with black buttons. These boys, like soldiers generally, were partial to their uniforms and dress parade assignments. Fire fighting and trail clearing were onerous indeed, and while “a little road making on service is not a bad thing, continuous navying is enough to knock the heart out of any army.” The army’s public relations seemed to have been very satisfactory. The soldiers were uniformly friendly and helpful toward the tourists. John Muir considered it a “pleasing contrast to the ever changing management of blundering, plundering politicians.... The soldiers do their duty so quietly that the traveler is scarce aware of their presence.” One Charles D. Warner, of New York City, was also led to rejoice that there was at least one spot in the United States where law was promptly enforced. He considered the military administration an object lesson for the whole nation in point of efficiency and impartiality. Perhaps the greatest weakness in the army regime was in the educational inadequacy of its personnel. About 1910 a difference in tourist interests was obvious. People, generally, began to inquire into the causes and effects of the natural phenomena. It became increasingly apparent that an effective public stewardship required knowledge of chemistry, botany, geology, zoology, and history. The reign of the “cock and bull” type of story was drawing to an end. The era of greater natural history interpretation and appreciation was dawning. Unless something could be done to educate the Park’s guardians a considerable educational opportunity would be lost, not to mention the loss of scientific solution of forest problems in general. W. S. Chapman This need is clearly reflected in Captain Anderson’s report concerning geysers:
A rhythmic regularity was there all right, but, strangely enough, it required the careful observation of the casual scientist to discover a fact which entirely escaped the more permanent, but less observant, soldiers. In 1926 the Geophysical Laboratory of the Carnegie Institution directed Dr. Eugene T. Allen and Dr. Arthur L. Day to make an exhaustive study of Yellowstone’s thermal features. After seven seasons of research, in cooperation with the National Park Service, they were able to publish a monumental treatise on this subject. Factors of this character were in the mind of Secretary of the Interior Franklin K. Lane in 1915 when he appointed Stephen T. Mather as his assistant. Mr. Mather’s portfolio particularly related to the formulation of an integrated National Park policy. |
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