YELLOWSTONE Early History of Yellowstone National Park and Its Relation to National Park Policies

To the Editor of the Herald:

With the view, in a measure, to meet the general interest of this community, by giving more fully some of the results of our recent expedition, I will commence with a brief description of the falls of the Yellowstone. These falls, two in number, are not more than half a mile apart, perhaps not as much in a direct line. The Upper Falls are not more than 25 miles from the lake, and it can hardly be more than 50 miles by the course we went from the Lower Falls to the mouth of the Grand Canyon, where we were forced to leave the river and take the trail over the mountains. By barometric measurement, we found the altitude of the lake to be 8,337 feet; the altitude of the point where the river issues from the canyon we did not positively determine, but are certain that it will be found to be between 3,000 and 4,000 feet less. Such is the tremendous fall of this river in that short distance. From the lake to the Upper Falls the river generally flows with a moderate current between wooded banks, with occasional openings gently sloping to the water's edge. In only one point above the Upper Falls did we notice any considerable rapids, and from the general character of the country I am satisfied that there can not be any great amount of fall between those points. This, then, would leave almost all this vast amount of river fall to be accounted for within the short distance of 50 miles. I confess that this fact leads me to wish that we had explored that canyon to a greater distance, though I hardly think any greater falls would be found than those to which we attached the name of the Great Falls, which we ascertained by careful measurement to be 350 feet perpendicular plunge. The Upper Falls were 115 feet, with no very strong rapids between the two falls. But below the Great Falls for a distance of 3 or 4 miles that we explored the descent was very great by a succession of falls from 12 to 20 feet, and a continuous, foaming series of rapids. At one point from which I could command the view of perhaps three-quarters of a mile of the river's surface I counted no less than 12 of these smaller falls. And should this feature extend along the entire tortuous course of the river through the canyon, it would be enough to account for all this great descent. Still it may be that at some point below our explorations there is a greater fall than any yet seen. The wild, floating stories about falls 1,000 feet in height are no doubt exaggerations as applied to the main stream. That there are small streams from the high plateau above the brink of the canyon that fall the distance of 1,000 feet or more, perpendicular, is true and such were seen by some of our party. Every stream that we crossed in our course around the canyon when explored was certain to bring us to cascades, several of which we saw of surprising beauty, from 84 to 115 feet in height. The river just above the Upper Falls for the distance of one-fourth of a mile breaks down into a strong rapid, and circles in foaming eddies about the base of several huge, black bowlders that lay scattered through this distance at irregular intervals. The growing uproar of the waters through this part of its course reminded me of the wild chant of the Indian before starting out on the war path. It is the death song before the fatal leap.

The sides of the river converge as the waters approach the brink, and rise into bold, rocky bluffs, the one from the west, stretching out as if to forbid any further advance, gives the stream a turn to the northeast, and then, as if conscious of its folly, stops short in a perpendicular face, past which the crowding waters, fretting at restraint, shoot like an arrow, reel for a moment as they feel their foothold falling, then, blanching into foam, plunge down, down, till they seem but a mass of down in the surging bed below. The distance between the rock bluffs that stand sentinel over this ceaseless carnival of waters can not be above 200 feet. I fancied I could see in the dim distance of a few seasons an iron swing bridge, with bright, happy eyes gazing wondrously upon this beauty of nature in water colors. The west bank, upon which we stood, presents wonderful facilities for seeing the falls to the greatest advantage. The most convenient ledge, with a surface accommodation for 20 persons and easily reached, juts out about a quarter of the distance down the falls, almost within reach of the face of the waters, within kissing distance, for eccentric drops would fall upon us. Here we could look up into the foaming, furious jaws of the cataract, from whence would shoot out fierce, crested tongues, as if in wrath aimed to consume the beholder. The view at first is almost terrifying, and makes one's knees knock together in conscious impotence. But these watery arrows, seemingly shot at the beholder, by a graceful curve bend beneath his feet to be quenched upon the stony buckler of the river's bed. Human ingenuity could not suggest a better point of view than is here presented to gather in at once the beauty, majesty, and power of all the parts of a waterfall. The volume of the waters is great, not equal to Niagara but apparently equal to those of the Missouri at the Great Falls as I saw them in October, 1865. The water is as clear as crystal, with a little tinge of green at some points of observation. Below the Upper Falls the basin is very wide, and the river spreads out so that it appears quite shallow; large, dark, smooth bowlders cover its bottom, and on the west side especially the bank is very rocky and broken; still I think these falls might he approached from below—none of us attempted it. Much grander, of course, but not more beautiful, are the Great Falls below. Between the two falls the river flows quietly in a wide channel, until the west bank again protrudes a mountain, as if having repented of its irresolution before. Here, as at the Upper Falls, the rocky sides rise perpendicular from the brink of the falls, though the rocky formation is more shelley and of a lighter yellow tinge about the Lower Falls, and I can but think that, in coming centuries, the force of the water will wear away the interval between the two falls and unite both in one. Miles of this canyon below has doubtless been thus worn out and transported to the Gulf of Mexico. In spite of the looser character of rock, the Lower Falls are more perfect in all parts. The plunge of the waters is in the direct course of the stream; the gateway is wider and the water on the brink of nearly uniform depth, if anything, it is some deeper on the east side. But from this nearly horizontal shelf, without a break, the united volume clears its bed at a bound. In an instant its clear, greenish mass is transformed in mid-air to thousands of jets, shaped like arrow heads or like a comet with nucleus and trailing coma, following in constant succession and gathered into five rather prominent and distinct ridges, all of silvery whiteness. Intertwining with this silvery sheen the golden sunbeams wear rainbow wreaths of rare and radient beauty. The basin below the falls is apparently chiseled by watery hands in regular, smoothly carved surface from solid rock. There is no place for the approach of human footsteps within the run of this basin. Along its smooth, steep sides are numberless secondary cascades, formed by the condensation of spray from the dissipated waters. So profound is this awful chasm that the roar of the water is stifled, and no sound is perceptible at a little distance back of the canyon. The upper level is generally covered with thick pine timber to the edge of the chasm, though at a little further distance on the crest side is open country, rolling and covered with sagebrush. Still further back, about 3 miles away from the river, is a pretty meadow, with a clear stream, a nice place as we found to camp.

The eastern side is much more open, with only small, occasional groves. The sides of the canyon from immediately below the Great Falls are almost perpendicular for the most part. In some places lateral ravines cut down through these perpendicular sides and render it possible by great care and difficulty to reach the water's edge. These sides rise to the height of 1,200 feet above the river below. the falls growing higher below from the rapid fall of the river, and where this canyon cuts through the highest part of the mountains I have no doubt that the almost perpendicular sides will stand 3,000 feet, perhaps more, above the river. One mountaineer told us that he had approached the river at one point where the bank was a mile above the river. The sides of this canyon are beautiful and grand beyond description. The general color is yellow, and shows how the river came by its name, but in parts this color changes to a dazzling white, others to a bright red, while the river shrinks to a crooked thread in the vast abyss, its general color of green alternating with white at the falls and rapids. Many a bold cliff protrudes from the bluff banks, affording magnificent points, to view the falls and the dizzy depths of the canyon. To all those points were well-worn paths of the mountain sheep, and as there was no herbage of any kind to tempt their adventurous steps I concluded these peculiar animals must be gifted with a strong sense of the sublime and beautiful which they come here to indulge. For my own part I must confess to an uncontrollable shrinking and shaking of limbs that forbade all approach to the verge of these points except by crawling at full length extended. I could thus trust the weight of my body to hold my giddy head. I stayed for hours on these points, almost an entire day, trying to inure myself to the sight so as to overcome this feeling of terror that so interrupted the enjoyment of the beauties of the scene. So long I stayed and so intense was the strain upon mind and muscle that I withdrew exhausted, but with the grand picture so indelibly graven upon my fancy that it returns to my recollection more like a perpetual reality even to the extent of removing the muscular tremor I then experienced.

To attain a proper enjoyment of these great falls I am satisfied that considerable time is essential. At first the grandeur overtops and absorbs all other considerations, while the beauties only come out to appreciation by time. Fearing to trespass on your space, I will conclude this imperfect notice of what I am satisfied is in many respects the grandest waterfall in the world, and surely destined at no distant day to become a shrine for a world-wide pilgrimage.

Truly yours,

CORNELIUS HEDGES.

HELENA, October 15, 1870.
(Helena (Mont.) Daily Herald, October 15, 1870.)