The Washburn
Yellowstone Expedition
No.1
by Walter Trumball
Overland Monthly; May 1871, San Francisco
SINCE the first settlement of Montana, vague stories
have been floating about, in regard to the wonders of the
country surrounding Lake Yellowstone. Trappers and half-breeds
have dilated, in glowing terms, of impassable cañons,
water-falls thousands of feet in height, and "steamboat springs”
of remarkable magnitude. Heretofore, these reports have been
generally believed to be gross exaggerations. They, however, led
to the formation of a party last summer, resolved upon as
thorough an examination of that section of country as their
leisure time would admit.
The expedition left Helena,
Montana, August 17th, 1870. General Washburn, Surveyor-General
of Montana, was elected Captain. The remaining members of the
expedition were: S. T. Hauser, President of the First National
Bank of Helena; N. P. Langford, late U. S. Collector of Internal
Revenue; T. C. Everts, late U. S. Assessor; Messrs. Hedges,
Gillette, Smith, Stickney, and Trumbull, all of Helena; two
packers, and two unbleached American citizens of African
descent. Each member of the party was mounted on horseback, and
there were twelve pack animals.
By order of General Hancock, we
were provided with an escort; and at Fort Ellis we were joined
by Lieutenant Doane, of the Second Cavalry, with a squad of
soldiers, well mounted, and armed with needle carbines and
revolvers. We citizens carried an assorted armory, consisting of
Henry, Ballard, and Spencer rifles, revolvers, and bowie-knives.
We intended to hunt for all sorts of large game, Indians only
excepted. No one desired to find any of them.
On Monday morning, August 22d,
our party bade adieu, for a time, to civilization; and leaving
Fort Ellis, turned our faces toward the almost unexplored
wilderness. The weather was fine; the air invigorating; all were
cheerful, and each face betrayed that curiosity and expectation,
which almost every one feels when entering upon a new field of
adventure. Our course lay to the east, over Bozeman Pass; which
will necessarily be the route of the Northern Pacific Railroad,
if it goes anywhere in that vicinity.
Having passed over the divide,
the party camped on Trail Creek, a small stream flowing into the
Yellowstone. At this place a night-watch was established; which
was maintained throughout the entire trip, in order to keep the
Indians from breaking the Eighth Commandment.
The following day we reached
the Yellowstone, and camped at Botteller's, which is the
frontier rancho, as you ascend that river. During the day
the party traveled in detachments. Three hunters kept several
miles ahead; next, were two skirmishers in front of the main
body; and a half-mile farther back, came the main body itself,
together with the pack-train. As the skirmishers neared the
river they discovered three Crows; not sitting on a tree, but
riding in their direction. With keen military sagacity, they
appreciated the position, and rallied on the main body with
astonishing rapidity. This movement was much commended by
parties who had had experience in our "late unpleasantness."
For many miles, both up and
down the river, on the side opposite Botteller's, the mountains
rise somewhat abruptly, bold and rugged, to a height of three or
four thousand feet above the river. Clumps of pines and cedars
are scattered over them. They remind one very much of the
grandeur and massiveness of the Sierra Nevada Range. A recent
snow-storm had thrown a robe of purity over the scene, which
rendered it more than ordinarily beautiful.
From this point we followed the
old Indian trail, leading up the left bank of the Yellowstone.
It was generally from a fourth to a half-mile distant from the
river-bank, and near the first line of bluffs, which bound the
valley or river bottom. During the day we crossed three small
streams, designated as Two-mile Creek and Eight-mile Creek—Nos.
One and Two—being about those distances from Botteller's. At one
place the trail crossed a rocky point, more than three hundred
feet above the river, which there ran beside a precipice. The
view was exceedingly fine. The valley was in sight from the
mouth of the cañon, eight miles above, to a point at
least forty miles below. The course of the river could be
plainly discerned by an unbroken line of willows, stretching
away to the north-east, while in the background the lofty,
snow-capped peaks glistened midway between the earth and the
cloudless firmament above. We camped at the mouth of the
cañon, where the Yellowstone issues from the mountains.
Above that point there is no open country, until you reach the
basin of the great lake.
During the day plenty of small
game was killed, and the fishing was found to be excellent.
Trout and white-fish were abundant—and such trout! They can only
be found in the neighborhood of the Rocky Mountains, and on the
Pacific Slope. Few of them weighed less than two pounds, and
many of them over three. They had not been educated up to the
fly; but when their attention was respectfully solicited to a
transfixed grasshopper, they seldom failed to respond.
During the pleasant evening,
and the long summer twilight peculiar to a northern latitude,
some made rough sketches of the magnificent scenes by which we
were surrounded; others wrote up their notes of the trip, while
the rest serenely smoked their pipes, and listened to
reminiscences from each other of by-gone times, or other scenes
somewhat similar to those we then enjoyed.
The day following we continued
our way through the cañon, up the river, which there
wound around to the east. The trail kept near the river, was
very rough, and went over several high, rocky points. Distant
views were shut out by the mountains, which constantly
surrounded us. The only features of unusual interest seen during
the day were a beautiful, snow-capped mountain, at least ten
thousand feet above the sea, and the Devil's Slide, similar to a
feature so named in Echo Cañon, on the Union Pacific Railroad,
but vastly exceeding that one in size. Two perpendicular walls
of mud and rock run directly down a mountain. They are about
half a mile long, and the larger one a hundred feet high, and
thirty feet across the top. Similar formations extend along the
side of the mountain for some distance, but the rest are much
smaller than the two mentioned. From a distance, the mountain
appears to be traversed by a number of stone-walls running
parallel to each other, from the summit to the base of the
mountain, which is shaped like a long hay-stack. The walls are
as regular as if they were a work of art.
In the evening we camped on the
Yellowstone, at the mouth of Gardiner's River. The beach was of
sand, with large rocks lying right at the water's edge. It was
wide enough for us to spread our blankets upon it, and was lined
upon the inside by a row of cedar-trees, beyond which the bluff;
covered with sage-brush, rose a hundred feet.
The next day we forded
Gardiner's River at its mouth, followed up the Yellowstone about
two miles, and then, finding the cañon impassable, took a
trail leading up the gulch to the right. In crossing the
mountains, we attained the highest elevation we had yet reached.
During the day an antelope was killed by one of the party. In
the evening we camped on a clear mountain stream, not more than
ten miles from our previous camp. The grass was abundant, and
the location excellent. Two of the party, who went ahead, missed
the camp, and were out overnight, although every endeavor was
made to find them. They, however, got along well, by building a
shelter of pine boughs, in front of which they made a large
fire.
By the brook-side we found a
number of prospect-holes, and some blazed trees, showing that
enterprising miners had preceded us. A gentleman got a pan of
dirt from one of the holes, and succeeded in panning out two
nuggets, evidently from different gulches, their combined value
being about $8.
The next day we traveled about
six hours, nearly due east, over the mountains. After going
sixteen miles, up hill and down, through gulches and woods, we
camped on Warm Spring Creek, about a half-mile from its mouth,
and at an elevation of 7,200 feet. Here we found our two lost
friends, who had preceded us. The Yellowstone was several
hundred feet beneath us; and but a short distance below our
camp, one of the gentlemen had discovered some very picturesque
falls, on Warm Spring Creek. At the foot of this creek we found
a few warm springs, which probably caused early prospectors to
so name the stream. The springs were small, and principally alum
and sulphur, but they were interesting to us, as they were a new
feature of the trip.
On the Yellowstone, opposite
the mouth of the creek, huge, basaltic cliffs and columns rose
to a height of six hundred feet, looking like castles and
massive fortifications. A short distance below our camp there
was a fall in the creek of 112 feet. For a few hundred yards
above the fall the stream had worn its way through a sandstone
bluff, cutting quite a deep cañon. Immediately about the
head of the falls the rocks were worn into curious and fantastic
shapes, looking, in daylight, like spires or steeples, rising
from thirty to sixty feet above the falls; but, in the
moonlight, reminding one of the portal of an old castle, or a
number of the fabled genii standing ready to hurl
adventurous mortals into the gorge below, which was enveloped by
the shadows of the night in impenetrable darkness.
It was proposed to name these
falls in honor of the discoverer, but it was decided to be in
bad taste to name prominent objects after members of the
expedition; besides, one of the party took an unaccountable
interest in bestowing upon them the name of Tower Falls, which
was finally adopted. His peculiar interest was afterward
satisfactorily explained, as we learned he had a sweet-heart by
that name, somewhere in the States. Another of the party was in
favor of the name of Minaret (Minnie Rhett); but that was too
apparent, and he was outvoted.
The following day the party struck across
the country to the south, cutting off a large bend in the river,
and then passed to the right of a high mountain, which some of
the party ascended. It was found to be the highest peak in that
section, a barometrical observation showing it to be 10,700 feet
high. In honor of General Washburn, whom we had elected Captain
of the expedition, we named it "Mount Washburn."
About four o'clock we camped by a small,
clear, cold brook, flowing through a grassy upland opening, and,
just below us, entering a thick, gloomy forest, which continued
to the Yellowstone, about three miles distant. In exploring the
creek toward the river, when about a mile from camp, we came
suddenly to a small opening on a steep hill-side, where we found
a number of hot springs. There were four quite prominent,
besides a number of smaller ones. I can not describe them better
than by quoting from a description given by Mr. Hedges to a
local paper. He spent some time in giving them a thorough
examination:
"The westernmost spring had an
oval-shaped basin, twenty by forty feet in diameter. Its
greenish-yellow water was hot, and bubbles of steam or gas were
constantly rising from various parts of its surface. This
spring, with two others, was situated in about an east and west
line, and at the upper side of the basin, which opened south,
toward the creek. The central one of these three was the largest
of all, and was in constant, violent agitation, like a seething
caldron over a fiery furnace. The water was often thrown higher
than our heads, and fearful volumes of stifling, sulphureous
vapors were constantly escaping. The water was of a dark-lead
color, and intensely hot. As near as I now recollect, the basin
of this spring was about thirty feet in diameter. There was very
little water flowing away from it, and very little deposit from
its overflowings was visible. It had no such mound as many that
we saw subsequently, nor was its margin of such solid material.
The easternmost and uppermost spring was not as large in its
crater as its near neighbors, but was more infernal to look at,
and suggested the name that we attached to the springs. The
substance was not as thick as mud, but rather beyond the
consistency of soup, and was in constant, noisy ebullition,
emitting fumes of villainous smell. The margin was not safe for
close approach, but I ventured near enough to thrust a pine
sapling into the substance of this infernal kettle, and on
pulling it out found it covered about one-fourth of art inch
thick with a lead-colored, sulphury slime. Nothing flows away in
liquid form from this spring. It seems to be boiling down, and
will doubtless become thick as pudding, like so many that we
afterward saw.... So secluded is this cluster of springs, that
it would be impossible to suppose it to have ever been seen
before by any White Man; and it appeared to us the merest chance
that directed our steps hither. How many similar basins are
hidden away among the vast forests that cover this region we can
best conceive, who have seen scores of them without turning much
from our direct course."
We reached the falls of the
Yellowstone on the morning of August 30th. These falls, two in
number, are less than half a mile apart. From the lake to the
upper falls, a distance of about twenty miles, the river flows,
with the exception of a short series of rapids having a moderate
current, through an open, undulating country, gently sloping
toward the stream. Here and there are small groves, and the
timber is quite thick a mile away from the river. A quarter of a
mile above the upper falls the river breaks into rapids, and
foams in eddies about huge, granite bowlders, some of which have
trees and shrubs growing upon them. Above the rapids the river
is about 150 yards wide, but, as it approaches the falls, high,
rocky bluffs crowd in on both sides, forcing the water into a
narrow gorge, which, at the brink of the falls, is about thirty
yards wide. The most convenient and desirable place from which
to view the falls is from a ledge, easily reached, which juts
into the river a considerable distance, just below the falls,
and a few feet lower than their brink. It is so close that
occasional drops dampen one's face. The height of the upper
falls is 115 feet. The ledge is irregular, the water being much
deeper on the west side than on the east. Great rocks project in
the face of the fall, tearing and churning the waters into foam,
with here and there a. little strip of green, which contrasts
beautifully with the surrounding silvery whiteness of the water.
Between the two falls the river
flows quietly, in a wide channel, between steep, timbered
bluffs, four hundred feet high. Just above the lower falls the
bluffs again converge; the one from the west stretching out as
if to dam up the river, which has, however, forced its way
through a break, forty yards wide. The rocky cliffs rise
perpendicularly from the brink of the falls, to a height of
several hundred feet. The rocky formation is of a shelly
character, and slightly colored with flowers of sulphur. The
plunge of the water is in the direct course of the stream, and
at the brink of the falls it appears to be of uniform depth. It
clears its bed at a bound, and takes a fearful leap of 350 feet.
The volume of water is about half as great as that which passes
over the American Fall, at Niagara, and it falls more than twice
the distance. The adjacent scenery is infinitely grander. Having
passed over the precipice, the clear, unbroken, greenish mass is
in an instant transformed by the jagged edges of the precipice
into many streams, apparently separated, yet still united, and
having the appearance of molten silver. These streams, or jets,
are shaped like a comet, with nucleus and trailing coma,
following in quick succession; or they look like foaming,
crested tongues, constantly overlapping each other. The outer
jets decrease in size as they descend, curl outward, and break
into mist. In the sunlight, a rainbow constantly spans the
chasm. The foot of the falls is enveloped in mist, which
conceals the river for more than a hundred yards below.
These falls are exactly the
same in height as the Vernal Falls in the Yosemite Valley, but
the volume of water is at least five times as great. I think I
never saw a water-fall more beautiful than the Vernal, and its
surroundings are sublime, Its Indian name is said to mean "Crown
of Diamonds;” and it certainly deserves the name. I remember
sitting on the rocky ledge just at the edge of the falls, and
with an opera-glass watching the waters as they plunged
downward, breaking into myriads of drops; each drop, like a
lens, gathering prismatic tints from the shining sun, and
flashing like diamonds of the purest brilliancy. The lower fall
of the Yellowstone reminds me of the Vernal Fall, on the Merced.
Though nothing, perhaps, can equal the sublime scenery of the
Yosemite, yet that only excels the lower falls of the
Yellowstone, and the grand cañon which extends for many
miles below them.
Below the falls the hills
gradually increase in height, while the river descends in a
succession of rapids through the cañon. At the falls the
cañon is not more than twelve hundred feet deep, but a
few miles lower down it is nearly eighteen hundred feet deep.
Its average width at the top is about a third of a mile. The
east wall is nearly vertical for its entire height, and presents
an almost unbroken face. The west wall is much cut by
re-entering angles, or steep, lateral ravines, leaving between
them rocky, projecting points, or cliffs, from which can be
obtained a magnificent view of the falls and cañon. These
cliffs have perpendicular faces, varying from four to eight
hundred feet in height, below which the cañon, composed
mostly of the débris which have fallen from above, slopes
steeply to the water's edge.
The immense depth of this gorge
almost overcomes the roar of the falls, and a short distance
from the edge of the cañon the sound of the waters is
unheard. The general color of the cañon is yellow, owing
to the sulphureous fumes which rise from many steam-jets near
the bottom; but in places the rock is of a reddish hue, while in
others it is dazzlingly white. Days would be required to examine
thoroughly and fully appreciate the vicinity of the falls,
which, in many respects, are the most remarkable in America.
Leaving the falls the first
morning in autumn, we took the trail through the timber, in a
south-west direction. We soon found ourselves in an open,
rolling country, gradually sloping down to the river. About six
miles from the falls, and a half-mile back from the river, we
came to three white hills, of a volcanic nature, thrown up
entirely by deposits from hot and boiling mineral springs, which
were between and around them. The largest was forty feet by
sixty. It was perfectly quiet, and looked like any other deep,
muddy pond; its peculiarity being that, although it was easy for
any one to handle it, he who attempted any such familiarity was
sure to get scalded. The spring which attracted most attention
was about seven feet by ten, and threw whitish, hot water from
eight to ten feet above the rim of its basin. It also puffed
like a steamboat, throwing off vast quantities of steam, and
much resembled the Steamboat Geyser, in Sonoma County,
California. Its rim was incrusted with sulphur, some specimens
being quite pure.
Within a space of half a mile
square, at least seventy- five different springs and steam-jets
occur. The mounds, or hills, at the bases of which are these
springs, are nearly three hundred feet high. They are covered
with small holes and fissures, from which issue hot air and
steam. No vegetation of consequence grows on them, but a few
clumps of trees are scattered between the springs at their base.
Many of the craters contain a grayish, pasty-looking substance,
about the consistency of mush nearly cooked. Other springs have
waters of blue, pink, yellow, and brown tinges. One small,
bubbling spring, of clear water, has an intensely sour, acrid
taste.
It is said that Indians do not
go above the grand cañon on the Yellowstone. Whether this
is true I know not, but I imagine that the unscientific savage
finds little to interest him in such places. I should rather
suppose he would give them a wide berth, believing them sacred
to Satan. If a person should be cast into one of these springs,
he would be literally immersed in a lake of burning brimstone.
There being no good grass near
Crater Hills, after stopping a few hours to examine them we
moved to a point on the Yellowstone, about three miles above.
Near this camp were several mineral springs, all hot, and many
of them boiling. Most of them were ordinary, bubbling,
spluttering mud-springs, but three of them were quite
remarkable. Of these the first, or lowest down the river, is a
cave-spring, with an opening of ten feet in width by six in
height, in solid rock, with an almost perfect, oval arch. The
water is clear as crystal, of boiling heat; and a vitriolic
taste. As you look into the cave, it has the appearance of an
opening to a subterranean lake. A small, hot stream flows from
it. The water is continually washing its ten or twelve feet of
shore, like an agitated lake. The bright pebbles in the bottom,
the clean sand, and the smooth, white, flat stones left in
regular ripples on its margin, together with the green, mossy
sides of the cave, and the musical monotones of the rippling
waters, almost lead one to think it the entrance to an enchanted
land.
A hundred yards above this
spring, upon the side of a hill, was another, entirely different
in character. It was really a small volcano, throwing mud
instead of lava. Intermittent thumps, like the discharge of
artillery, could be heard, at intervals of from fifteen to
thirty seconds, for the distance of a mile. At every pulsation,
thick, white clouds of steam came rolling out, and mud was
thrown from the crater, gradually enlarging the mound which
surrounded it. While we were watching this spring the mud was
only thrown over the rim of the crater, but from the clay
clinging to the branches of surrounding trees, especially on the
upper side of the spring, it was evidently thrown, at times, to
a height of two hundred feet. A circle, a hundred yards in
diameter, was also well bespattered.
Between the last-mentioned
spring and the river is a boiling spring, a placid pond, a deep,
dry funnel, or an active geyser, according to the time of one's
visit. In the course of a day we saw it in all its protean
shapes. When in its funnel form, one would not dream that, from
the small opening in the bottom, twenty or thirty feet below,
would come a power capable of filling with water the funnel,
which at the top is thirty feet by forty, and then so agitating
it that the water would be splashed to a height of from thirty
to fifty feet. If one saw it when the waters were troubled, he
would be scarcely less astonished to hear it give one convulsive
throb, and then see it quietly settle clown in a single instant
to the smooth surface of a placid pool. When the waters retired
we went into the funnel, and found it rough, efflorescent, and
composed of rock and hardened sulphur.
Though very different in
character from the geysers afterward seen on the head-waters of
the Madison River, and far less grand, this one was very
peculiar, and we saw nothing resembling it during the rest of
the trip.
continued
at The Washburn Yellowstone Expedition, No.2 |
