AROUND YELLOWSTONE LAKE.

The Yellowstone leaves the Lake with an easy flow in a channel a quarter of a mile wide, and deep enough to swim a horse. A mile to the eastward of the outlet is the mouth of Pelican Creek, whose swampy valley is the resort of myriads of waterfowl. On the northern side, three or four miles from the lake, Sulphur Hills stand as monuments of a once magnificent system of boiling springs.

The deposit covers the side of the mountain to an elevation of 600 feet above the lake shore. The huge white mass of silica, covering an area half a mile square, can be seen from any position on the lake shore, whence it appears like an immense bank of snow. In the valley near Pelican Creek, a few springs issue from beneath the crust, distributing their waters over the bottom and depositing oxide of iron, sulphur, and silica in the most beautiful blending of gay colors. Although the waters of the springs are 160° in temperature, the channels are lined with a thick growth of mosses and other plants, and in the water is an abundance of vividly green vegetation. The mass of hot-spring material built up here cannot be less than 400 feet in thickness. A large portion of it is pudding-stone or conglomerate. Some of the masses inclosed in the fine white silicious cement are themselves globes of pure white silica, eight inches in diameter. It is plain, from the evidence still remaining, that this old ruin has been the theatre of tremendous geyser action at some period not very remote, and that the steam-vents, which are very numerous, represent only the dying stages. These vents or chimneys are richly adorned with brilliant yellow sulphur, sometimes as a hard amorphous coating, and sometimes in delicate crystals that vanish like frost-work at the touch. It seems that it is only during the last stages of these springs that they adorn themselves with these brilliant and vivid colors.

Hot springs are scattered along the valley of the creek for several miles, some of them of considerable size and beauty. The average width of the valley is about two miles; the heat from the springs and the extremely fertile soil combining to fill the valley with abundant vegetation. At the northeastern corner of the lake, five or six miles from the outlet, is a long, low spit of land built out into the lake by ancient geyser action. A few roaring steam-vents, giving name to the point, are all that remain of the violent action that once characterized the place. The hot spring area is four or five miles long by two wide; the ground in many places being perforated like a cullender with simmering vents. A mile or so from the lake is a large pond where there is another extensive group of springs, depositing sulphur, alum, common salt, and staining the ground with oxide of iron.

South of Steam Point is a small bay bounded by a deposit of yellow clay, full of the remarkable concretions already referred to. Further up the eastern shore are pebbly beaches strewn with agates cornelians, and chips of chalcedony. Beyond, the narrow lake-shore is quite impassable. The adjacent lowlands, and the higher levels and hill-slopes further back, are almost as difficult of penetration, owing to the dense growth of lofty pines and the interminable fire-slashes that cover large areas. These fire-slashes are due to autumnal fires which sweep through the forests, burning the vegetable mould, so that the trees are left without support, and the first wind lays them down in the wildest confusion. Through these networks of fallen timber it is with the utmost difficulty that a passage can be forced. All the explorers speak of the exasperating nature of their tribulations in these wildernesses.

Mr. Langford treats it with characteristic good humor.

"Ascending the plateau from the beach," he says, "we became at once involved in all the intricacies of a primeval wilderness of pines. Difficulties increased with our progress through it, severely trying the amiability of every member of the company. Our pack-horses would frequently get wedged between the trees or caught in the traps of a network of fallen trunks, from which labor, patience, and ingenuity were severely taxed to extricate them. The ludicrous sometimes came to our relief, proving that there was nothing so effectual in allaying excitement as hearty laughter. We had a remarkable pony in our pack-train, which, from the moment we entered the forest, by his numerous acrobatic performances and mishaps furnished amusement for the company. One part of the process of travel through this forest could only be accomplished by leaping over the fallen trunks, an exploit which, with all the spirit needful for the purpose, our little broncho lacked the power always to perform. As a consequence, he was frequently found with the feat half accomplished, resting upon the midriff, his fore and hind feet suspended over the opposite sides of some huge log. His ambition to excel was only equalled by the patience he exhibited in difficulty. On one occasion, while clambering a steep rocky ascent, his head overtopping his haunches, he literally performed three of the most wonderful backward headsprings ever recorded in equine history. A continued experience of this kind, after three weeks' toilsome travel, found him as sound as on the day of its commencement, and we dubbed him the 'Little Invulnerable.'"

In another place Mr. Langford writes:

"Our journey of five miles, the next day, was accomplished with great difficulty and annoyance. Almost the entire distance was through a forest piled full of fallen trunks. Travelling was but another name for scrambling; and as man is at times the least amiable of animals, our tempers frequently displayed alarming activity, not only towards the patient creatures laden with our stores, but towards each other. Once, while involved in the reticulated meshes of a vast net of branches and tree-tops, each man, with varied expletive emphasis, clamorously insisting upon a particular mode of extrication, a member of the party, who was always jolly, restored us to instant good-humor by repeating, in theatrical tone and manner, those beautiful lines from Childe Harold:—

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore."

Our 'Little Invulnerable,' too, was the unconscious cause of many bursts of laughter, which, like the plaudits of an appreciative audience, came in at the right time."

The eastern rim of the Yellowstone Basin is formed by one of the grandest volcanic ranges in the world, the general level of their summits being about 10,000 feet above the sea, while numerous peaks thrust their rugged crests a thousand feet higher into the sky. Mr. Langford and Lieutenant Doane were the first to penetrate this range, climbing with great labor one of the highest of the groups of lofty peaks near the southeast corner of the Lake.

"The grandeur and vast extent of the view from this elevation," writes Mr. Langford, "beggar description. The lake and valley surrounding it lay seemingly at our feet within jumping distance. Beyond them we saw with great distinctness the jets of the mud volcano and geyser. But beyond all these, stretching away into a horizon of cloud-defined mountains, was the entire Wind River range, revealing in the sunlight the dark recesses, gloomy caÑons, stupendous precipices, and glancing pinnacles, which everywhere dotted its jagged slopes. Lofty peaks shot up in gigantic spires from the main body of the range, glittering in the sunbeams like solid crystal. The mountain on which we stood was the most westerly peak of a range which, in long-extended volume, swept to the southeastern horizon, exhibiting a continuous elevation more than thirty miles in width; its central line broken into countless points, knobs, glens, and defiles, all on the most colossal scale of grandeur and magnificence. Outside of these, on either border, along the entire range, lofty peaks rose at intervals, seemingly vying with each other in the varied splendors they presented to the beholder. The scene was full of majesty. The valley at the base of this range was dotted with small lakes and cloven centrally by the river, which, in the far distance, we could see emerging from a caÑon of immense dimensions, within the shade of which two enormous jets of steam shot to an incredible height into the atmosphere."

Between the lake and this group of mountains—the three highest of which bear the names of Langford, Doane, and Stephenson—is Brimstone Basin. For several miles the ground is impregnated with sulphur, and the air is tainted with sulphurous exhalations. Streams of warm sulphur-water course the hillsides and unite to form a considerable rivulet called Alum Creek, whose channel is coated with a creamy-white mixture of silica and sulphur. Old pine logs, once lofty trees, lie prostrate in every direction over the basin, which covers an area some three miles in extent. From all appearances this basin must have been the scene of thermal activity within a comparatively recent period; but now not a spring can be found with a temperature above that of ordinary spring-water. Similar brimstone basins are numerous around the lake, on the lower slopes of the mountains, at the foot of bluffs, or more frequently in level districts. The latter are always wet, and generally impassable, the thin crust covering an abundance of scalding mud, especially dangerous to horses.

The Upper Yellowstone rises in the high volcanic range which shuts off the Yellowstone Basin from the Wind River drainage, forming what is known as the great water-shed of the continent.

This range of mountains has a marvellous history. As it is the loftiest, so it is the most remarkable lateral ridge of the Rocky Range. The Indians regard it as the "crest of the world," and among the Blackfeet there is a fable that he who attains its summit catches a view of the land of souls, and beholds the happy hunting-grounds spread out below him, brightening with the abodes of free and generous spirits.

In the expedition sent across the continent by Mr. Astor, in 1811, under command of Captain Wilson P. Hunt, that gentleman met with the first serious obstacle to his progress at the base of this range. After numerous efforts to scale it, he turned away and followed the valley of the Snake, encountering the most discouraging disasters until he arrived at Astoria.

Later, in 1833, the indomitable Captain Bonneville was lost in this mountain labyrinth, and, after devising various modes of escape, finally determined to ascend the range, which tremendous task he succeeded in accomplishing, in company with one of his men. It was this same line of snow-clad, craggy peaks that turned back Captain Raynolds in 1859.

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Near its mouth the Upper Yellowstone is about half the size of the main stream as it leaves the lake. Its valley is about three miles wide and very marshy; all the little streams flowing down from the wooded hill-slopes being obstructed by beaver-dams, so as to form continuous chains of ponds. The sides of the valley are dark, sombre walls of volcanic rock, which weathers into curious and imposing forms. Looking up the valley from some high point, one almost imagines himself in the presence of the ruins of some gigantic city, so much like ancient castles and cathedrals do these rocks appear—a deception that is not a little heightened by the singular vertical furrows cut deep into the cliffs. At the base of the walls immense masses of breccia have fallen from the mountain tops, in many instances cutting long swaths through the pine forests. In the upper part of the valley, which in midsummer is lush with vegetation, five streams flow down from the mountains to swell the waters of the Yellowstone. These streams Colonel Barlow calls, in honor of his commander's greatest victory, the Five Forks. Here the valley terminates abruptly, the mountains rising like walls and shutting off the country beyond. Just at the head of the valley is a little lake, a hundred yards or so in width; the large lake which has been placed on maps as Bridger's Lake having no existence. Dr. Hayden with two assistants ascended the mountains to the west of the head of the valley to survey the district bordering on the great divide. From this point as far as the eye can reach on every side are bare, bald peaks, domes and ridges in great numbers. At least one hundred peaks worthy of a name can be located within the radius of vision. The rocks everywhere, though massive, black, and deeply furrowed vertically, have the appearance of horizontal stratification. In some instances the furrows are so regular that the breccia has a columnar appearance. The summits of the mountains are composed entirely of breccia, containing angular masses of trachyte, from 10 to 30 feet in diameter, though most of the fragments are small. Dr. Hayden's party camped at night near a small lake, by the side of a bank of snow, 10,000 feet above the sea, with short spring grass and flowers all around them. There are but two seasons on these mountain summits, spring and winter; as late as August fresh new grass may be seen springing up where a huge bank of snow has just disappeared. Little spring-flowers, seldom more than two or three inches high, cover the ground—Clatonia, Viola, Ranunculus, and many others. The following morning they travelled for several miles along a ridge not more than two hundred yards wide, from one side of which the waters flow into the Pacific, and on the other, into the Atlantic. To the westward the outlines of the Teton Range, with its shark-teeth summits, are most clearly visible, covered with snow. From whatever point of view, the sharp-pointed peaks of this range have the form of huge sharks' teeth. To the southward, for fifty miles at least, nothing but igneous rocks can be seen. Toward the Tetons there is a series of high ridges, passing off from the main Teton Range toward the northeast, and varying in height from 9,500 to 10,500 feet above the sea, and from 1,000 to 1,800 feet above the valleys at their base.

The explorers ascended one of the high ridges, (not the highest, however,) and found it to be 1,650 feet above the valley at its foot. The northeast side is steep like a roof, the southwest breaking off abruptly. From the summit of this ridge, the view is grand in the extreme. To the westward the entire country, for the distance of fifty miles, seems to have been thrown up into high, sharp ridges, with gorges 1,000 to 1,500 feet in depth. Beautiful lakes, grassy meadows also, come within the field of vision. "I can conceive," says Dr. Hayden, "of no more wonderful and attractive region for the explorer. It would not be difficult for the traveller to make his way among these grand gorges, penetrating every valley, and ascending every mountain and ridge. The best of grass, wood, water and game are abundant to supply the wants of himself and animals.

"I think," he continues, "that numerous passes could be found from the valley of Snake River to the basin of the Yellowstone. It seems to me there are many points on the south rim of the basin where a road could be made with ease into the valley of Snake River. From this ridge there appears to be but little difference in the altitude of Yellowstone Lake and Heart Lake, and they cannot be more than eight or ten miles apart, and yet the latter is one of the sources of Snake River. The little branches of Snake River nearly interlace with some streams that flow into the lake, and the gullies come up within two miles of the shore-line. There is a very narrow dividing ridge in one place, between the drainage, which may be within one mile of the lake."

Heart Lake was visited by Colonel Barlow, who found it a pretty, pear-shaped sheet of water, four miles long and two wide in its broadest part. From the north it receives a warm creek fed by a considerable group of hot springs. Its outlet at the southern end joins the terminal creek of Snake River, a few miles from its source among the Yellowstone Mountains.

Ten miles northwest of Heart Lake is Madison Lake, the source of Madison River, the country between being a somewhat rugged range of mountains, of which Red Mountain is the most conspicuous. To the eastward from Heart Lake is Mount Sheridan, from the summit of which a magnificent view of the Yellowstone Basin can be obtained. Nearer the great lake is Flat Mountain, whose altitude falls a little short of 10,000 feet. Between Flat Mountain and the Yellowstone Range the divide is very low, some of the branches of Snake River extending up to within two miles of the lake, where the elevation is not more than 400 feet above the lake level. It is doubtless this singular interlacing of the headwaters of the Yellowstone and Snake River that gave rise to Bridger's story of the "Two Ocean River."

At sunrise on the morning of August 10th, at the west base of Flat Mountain, the thermometer stood at 15½° Fah., and water froze in Dr. Hayden's tent that night a quarter of an inch thick. It was in this neighborhood that Mr. Everts was lost from the first expedition.

The country between Flat Mountain and the hot springs at the southwestern extremity of the lake is a level plateau with alternating spaces of grassy glade and dense thickets of pine around and between a perfect network of small, lily-covered lakes. The hot springs on the lake shore are numerous and of great variety and interest. There are no true geysers, however, though some of the springs are pulsating springs, the water rising and falling in their orifices with great regularity. Higher up the bank are a large number of mud-springs, two or three hundred in all, of variable temperatures, the most of them not differing materially from those already described. Some, however, have a character strikingly unique. The area covered by the springs is about three miles long and half a mile wide, a portion of it reaching out into the lake. Some of the submerged springs have built up funnel-shaped craters of silicious deposit, from five to twenty feet in height, rising from the bottom to the surface of the water. Extending a pole over the deep water, members of Dr. Hayden's party caught trout and cooked them in these boiling springs out in the lake without removing them from the hook.

Four hundred yards from the lake shore is a large boiling basin of pink-colored mud, seventy feet in diameter, with a rim of conical mud craters, which project the hot mud in every direction. The deposit speedily hardens into a firm, laminated stone, of beautiful texture, though the brilliant pink color fades to a chalky white. Near and around this basin are a dozen springs, from six to twenty-five feet across, boiling muddy water of a paint-like consistency, varying in color from pure white to dark yellow. Close by are several flowing springs of clear hot water, from ten to fifty feet in diameter, their basins and channels lined with deposits of red, green, yellow, and black, giving them an appearance of gorgeous splendor. The bright colors are on the surface of the rock only, which is too friable to be preserved. Below these springs are several large craters of bluish water, boiling to the height of two feet in the centre, and discharging large streams of water; their rims are raised a few inches in a delicate rock-margin of a fringe-like appearance, deposited from the water. Beyond these are two lakes of purple water, hot, but not boiling, and giving deposits of great beauty. Near by are two more blue springs, one thirty by forty feet, and 173° in temperature. This spring discharges a considerable stream into the other, which is seventy feet distant, and six feet lower. The latter is forty feet by seventy-five, 183° in temperature, and discharges a stream of one hundred inches. The craters of these springs are lined with a silvery-white deposit of silica, which reflect the light so as to illuminate the water to an immense depth. Both craters have perpendicular but irregular walls, and the distance to which objects are visible down in their deep abysses is truly wonderful.

West of these is another group of clear watered hot springs, which surpass all the rest in singularity if not in beauty. These have basins of different sizes and immeasurable depth, in which float what appear like raw bullock hides as they look in a tanner's vat, waving sluggishly with every undulation of the water. On examination, this leathery substance proves to be of fragile texture, like the vegetable scum of stagnant pools, and brilliantly colored red, yellow, green, etc., black on the under side. This singular substance is about two inches in thickness, jelly-like to the touch, and is composed largely of vegetable matter, which Dr. Hayden thinks to be diatoms.

Of the beautiful transparency of the springs above described, Dr. Hayden says: "So clear was the water that the smallest object could be seen on the sides of the basin; and as the breeze swept across the surface, the ultramarine hue of the transparent depth in the bright sunlight was the most dazzlingly beautiful sight I ever beheld. There were a number of these large clear springs, but not more than two or three that exhibited all those brilliant shades, from deep sea green to ultramarine."

Occasionally, says Lieutenant Doane, this anomaly is seen, namely: "two springs, at different levels, both boiling violently; one pours a large and constant stream into the other, yet the former does not diminish, nor does the latter fill up and overflow."

Most of the springs, however, seem to be independent of each other, since they have different levels at the surface, different temperatures and pulsations, and rarely are the waters and deposits of any two exactly alike.

Passing northward through dense woods and almost impenetrable fire-slashes, the next noteworthy region arrived at is the valley of Bridge Creek, the creek receiving its name from a natural bridge of trachyte thrown across the stream. The bridge is narrow, affording scanty room for the well-worn elk-trail two feet wide, while the descent on either hand is so great that a fall from the bridge would be fatal to man or beast. Numerous herds of elk make daily use of this convenient passway.

Dead and dying springs are abundant all along the valley of this creek, the most of them being reduced to mere steam-vents. In one place the spring deposits cover several acres and present a most attractive picture. The ground is thickly covered with conical mounds, from a few inches in diameter to a hundred feet, full of steaming orifices lined with brillant sulphur-crystals. The under side of the heated crust is everywhere adorned in the same manner. The basis of the deposit is snow-white silica, but it is variegated with every shade of yellow from sulphur, and with scarlet from oxide of iron. From a distance the whole region has the appearance of a vast lime-kiln in full operation. Most of the country has been eroded into rounded hills from fifty to two hundred feet high, composed of the whitish-yellow and pinkish clays and sands of the modern lake deposit, which seems to prevail more or less all round the rim of the basin, reaching several hundred feet above the present level of the lake.

Between Bridge Creek and the outlet of the lake, completing the circuit of the basin, is the Elephant's Back, a long, low mountain, noticeable only for its rounded summit and precipitous sides.