Part 15

In midsummer cows and calves frequent the picturesque park-like country near the sources of the Snake River. In my opinion, the head waters of the Snake furnish one of the best breeding grounds for elk anywhere to be found. In winter they descend to the broad valley-bottoms, where food is accessible and shelter easily obtained. In traveling over the country about these feeders to the Snake, I have been impressed by the apparent absence of elk, yet the first heavy autumnal snow will drive them from the mountains to the lowlands, the freshly fallen snow being tramped down by hundreds of elk tracks coming from all directions. In the more rugged portions of the country along the summit of the ridges, elk are seldom seen, although well-worn trails traverse the passes of the range at high altitudes, and may be safely followed by travelers as the easiest routes across the mountains.

Photographed from life by W. H. Weed.]

In an unexplored country, elk trails afford the best means of travel; they are well laid out and lead to good camping-grounds. Moreover, if there are any outlooks in the forest, or bare points on cliff or canyon wall, the trails will pretty surely take one there. I am much indebted to the elk for fine points of observation. Animals are not supposed to be lovers of nature. As regards the elk, this, I think, is an error. From long observation, I believe they have an appreciation of the picturesque and the grand. So thoroughly have I felt this that frequently when encamped in some beautiful and secluded nook, I have strolled away from the noise of the camp with a firm belief that at dusk these animals would visit the spot, attracted by its beauties, if by nothing else.

Possibly there are sportsmen who, having shot their elk, are not again attracted toward them, as toward other big game; they are easily killed, and the shooting of them becomes slaughter. Deer and antelope are more graceful and less easy to get a shot at than elk. Mountain sheep offer far more excitement in the chase over rugged cliffs. White goats are seldom seen, save in limited areas and out-of-the-way regions. Buffalo are now so rarely seen that to come upon one in the wilds is the ambition of the hunter. Bear-hunting must always be exciting on account of the element of danger. Preferring not to use the rifle, the pleasures of the chase do not enter into my enjoyment of animal life, and to me elk are the most interesting of all big game, and a constant source of pleasure. I never tire of watching them, they show so much individuality and independence of character and stateliness of manner. In spite of the fact that they are gregarious and fond of companionship, they show less affection for each other than almost any other animal.

I have much feeling in common with an old Scotch friend of mine, a lover of nature and a frequenter of forest and mountain, who spent a fortnight in the Park with the express purpose of reproducing upon his bagpipe those remarkable notes, the whistling of the elk, but with only partial success. The story is told that the elk left that part of the country, and he was unable to keep up with them.

That there are several thousand elk in the Park and adjoining country is quite certain, but from the nature of the case it is a difficult matter to estimate them. Their number may vary from year to year, depending upon the severity of the winter and other causes. Exceptionally severe seasons would naturally cause an increased death-rate. At all events, they exist in numbers sufficient to put at rest all fear of extermination if they shall only be protected and allowed to wander undisturbed. Several favorable seasons might cause them to reach the limit of a winter's food supply, but overcrowding must tend to a high death-rate, and the struggle for existence would keep their number down. The migratory habits of the elk would lead them to seek new haunts beyond the protected region, offering every year opportunities for healthy, manly sport to the ambitious hunter during the shooting-season.

Moose have been observed in this region only to a limited degree, but probably they occur in somewhat larger numbers than is generally supposed. While they are migratory in habit, their requirements restrict their favorite haunts to limited and inaccessible areas, and they prefer swampy and boggy regions in the lowlands to the meadows and grassy parks of the uplands. They roam mainly in the southwest corner of the Park, in the Falls River Basin, a level country fed by innumerable streams and springs coming out from beneath the lavas of the plateau. As this basin lies partly in Idaho, beyond the borders of the Park, and the moose wander in and out of the reservation, their protection is a matter of great difficulty; yet it is important, not only on account of their scarcity, but because it is near the southern limit of their range. They do not travel in large bands, and a country tramped up by moose is unknown in the Park. In many instances they have probably been mistaken for elk. I have detected their footprints in the broad valley of the Snake, below the mouth of Lewis River, and also in the Lower Geyser Basin, on Sentinel Creek, a small area, but one admirably fitted for their needs. They have been seen on the borders of the Lake of the Woods, and on the head of Stinking Water River east of Yellowstone Lake.

Two varieties of deer inhabit the Park, commonly known as the black-tail and white-tail deer, the former being much the more abundant of the two. Being fleet of foot, they roam over the entire area in passing from one pasturage ground to another. They show a decided preference for gently sloping foot-hills carrying a scattered growth of mingled pine and maple and other deciduous trees, their natural habitat being the border-land between dense forest and open valley. Such favorite spots affording food, shelter, and shade abound, and present one of the most characteristic features of an ideal park country. Deer haunt the valleys of the Gallatin Range and the lava slopes around the head of Black Tail Deer Creek, which flows into the Yellowstone; but more than any other animal they seem to delight in changing their habitat. The ideal country for deer is that paradise for big game, the valleys of the numerous streams forming the sources of the Snake. While by no means as numerous as elk, deer are found in sufficient numbers to allay all anxiety as to their permanence under the new conditions now surrounding the Park.

Antelope, graceful and swift-footed creatures, restrict their range to the open country, with habits nearly identical to those developed on the plain. They are by no means numerous, and were so much shot at before protection was afforded that they nearly became extinct. But in the last few years they have steadily increased in numbers, and experience seems to have taught them that safety lies within the protected region, rather than in seeking in winter the lowlands outside its borders. Swan Valley and the slopes of Mount Everts apparently satisfy their requirements. In summer small bands roam over Hayden Valley, but so far as I know have not increased in size.

The advantages of this region as a game reservation are again shown in its meeting the requirements of the bighorn, or mountain sheep (Ovis canadensis), an animal of quite different habits, which lives almost wholly among the crags and cliffs of the steepest mountains. An ideal bighorn country is found in the Absaroka Range, where the bare rocky slopes are interspersed with patches of nutritious grasses. The size of their bands, the frequent well-worn trails over the barren rocks, and the occurrence of sheep "sign" everywhere, indicate conditions suitable to sheep life. The head waters of the Stinking Water and Thoroughfare Creek are among their favorite haunts. In the higher regions of the Gallatin they may occasionally be seen, and, indeed, this may be said of the summits of most of the peaks throughout the Park. They are an agile, wary, keen-scented animal, and apparently never so happy as when on the jump. Next to the elk, they are probably most sought by the horn-hunters and game-butchers; but with a little protection, and only half a show, they are abundantly capable of taking care of themselves.

That buffalo were among the animals inhabiting the Yellowstone Park was known in the early days of its history; and that indefatigable explorer and former superintendent of the Park, Colonel P. W. Norris, soon recognized the need of protection for them if their extermination was to be prevented. The Park buffalo may all be classed under the head of mountain buffalo, and even in this elevated region they live for the greater part of the year in the timber. In many ways their habits are quite different from those generally attributed to the buffalo of the plain, and it is most unusual, save in midwinter, to find them in open valley or on the treeless mountain slope. They haunt the most inaccessible and out-of-the-way places, and what would seem to be the least attractive spots, living in open glades and pastures, the oases of the dense forest, often only to be reached by climbing over a tangle of fallen timber. Localities least visited by man and avoided by other animals are by preference selected by buffalo. During long wanderings over the timber plateau I have never ceased to be amazed at the resorts selected by them, and by the rapidity of their disappearance on being alarmed. I have frequently come upon ground tramped up by buffalo, showing every evidence of recent occupation, but the animals were gone. It is surprising how few buffalo have been seen in midsummer, even by those most familiar with their haunts and habits. They wander about in small bands in such unfrequented country as the southern end of the Madison plateau, the Mirror plateau, and the head of Pelican Creek, and on the borders of that elevated table-land known as Elephant Back. In winter, leaving the forest, they feed over the slopes of Specimen Ridge, and in the open Hayden Valley.

It is not likely that there ever were many buffalo in the Park, or that those there ever suffered seriously from the hand of man other than the Indian. Up to within recent years the plains buffalo offered a more attractive field for the hunter nearer home. Their abodes in the Park were inaccessible and far away from any base of supplies. Only since their extermination from the plains and the advance of settlements to the Park border have inroads upon their numbers taken place. If they ever roamed over this country in large herds, evidence of the fact should be apparent by well-trodden buffalo trails, which nowhere form a feature of the Park plateau. Whether the natural increase in their numbers has been kept down by the severity of the climate and an uncongenial environment, or whether the young calves have been attacked by predatory animals, has never been satisfactorily determined. Dangers which would scarcely befall them in an open country might in a timbered region tend to keep down their numbers. They occasionally wander beyond the Park borders into Idaho and Montana with the first fall of snow, returning to their mountain homes with the approach of spring. In 1884 I estimated the buffalo in the Park at 200; since that time they have gradually increased, and have probably doubled in number. In the winter of 1891-92 the grazing-ground in Hayden Valley was visited by a snowshoe party, who counted the scattered bands and took photographs of several groups. These groups were generally small, and each contained a goodly number of calves. They numbered by actual count nearly 300, but there is no means of knowing what proportion of the Park buffalo were then gathered here.

Photographed from life by John Fossam. From Forest and Stream.]

Bears of all kinds that inhabit the northern Rocky Mountains are found in the Park. The natural conditions of the country--a dense pine forest; a soil producing a variety of wild fruits, berries, and roots; a slowly decaying vegetation upon which flourish grubs and ants, delicate morsels to Bruin--all tend to furnish an environment suitable to the omnivorous bear. Black bears are the most common, but silver-tips abound, many of them of great size and strength. They are undoubtedly increasing in numbers, but unless attacked are harmless; and of the thousands of visitors to the Park every year I have yet to learn of one injured by them.

Of the smaller animals, such as the different kinds of the Felidae,--including mountain-lions,--foxes, wolves, porcupines, nothing need be said, save that they find within the reservation the essential conditions of a home. Two animals, however,--the wolverene and the beaver,--demand more than mere mention: the former on account of its rarity in the Rocky Mountains, and the consequent danger it runs of extermination, and the latter on account of the never-failing interest which they excite in the tourist, and the frequency with which their dams and habitations may be seen along the traveled routes. The wolverene is now seldom, if ever, reported from the country south of the Park, and must be considered one of the rarest of animals within its borders. Its predatory nature renders it a most undesirable animal near settlements, but this is no good reason why it should not be protected in the mountains. It is a stealthy, cautious animal, moving about without the least noise. I have seen but four, and these on meadow-lands underlaid by a deep soil. As they are supposed to live largely on rodents, they were doubtless seeking food among the burrowing animals. Although they are regarded as great robbers, in the hundreds of camps I have pitched within the Park my attention has never been called to the tracks of a prowling wolverene.

The numerous broad, flat valleys, cut into the plateaus and mountains, are singularly well fitted for the home of beaver. The meadows filling these valleys, the clear streams flowing through them, and the seclusion which they offer, are exceptional inducements and are all necessary requirements for their haunts. With the growth of population it is probable that a very considerable amount of trapping was carried on in early days, and their numbers greatly reduced. Of late years, special vigilance has been exercised to prevent the trapping and molestation of the Park beaver, but it has been by no means easy to accomplish this, on account of the remoteness of many of the best-stocked streams, and the high price of the skins, which tempts the cupidity of the trapper. Captain George S. Anderson, the present superintendent of the Park, believes the beaver are steadily increasing, and this is no doubt the fact, in view of the efforts that he has made to stop all trapping.

Innumerable streams flowing from the mountains to the central plateau, magnificent lakes, the sources of grand rivers, and a river system divided into four drainage basins, make the region singularly well suited for fish life. Exploration soon developed the fact that, while many of these rivers and lakes abounded in trout, others, above the waterfalls which form so characteristic a feature of the streams between the plateau and the lowlands, were wholly destitute of fish. In the spring of 1887 I addressed a letter to the late Professor Baird, calling his attention to the importance of stocking these waters, more especially Shoshone Lake, for the benefit of the people. At that time it was not considered feasible to take up the matter. Since then these waters have undergone careful investigation, and, as a result, have been stocked with fish under the supervision of Professor B. W. Evermann, of the United States Fish Commission, who reports that the different species of trout planted are doing well, so far as can be told at this early date. Six varieties--brook, lake, mountain, rainbow, Loch Leven, and Von Behr trout--have been placed in one or the other of the different drainage basins. In Shoshone and Lewis lakes both the common lake trout and the Loch Leven variety were planted. The Yellowstone Park is destined to rank as one of the favorite resorts of the angler,--fishing, under the proper regulations, becoming one of the many attractions of the place.

Nearly all birds common to the northern Rocky Mountains resort to this region during certain portions of every year. Migratory birds, like ducks and geese, live for months upon many small lakes dotted over the Park, rearing their young without the least fear of molestation. Pelicans find a home around the shores of Yellowstone Lake and the bottom-lands of its tributaries. That graceful creature and rare bird, the white swan, may frequently be seen on Yellowstone Lake, and on three separate visits to that secluded sheet of water, Riddle Lake, I have never failed to find several of them paddling about in its quiet waters. Eagles, fish-hawks, and ospreys soar above the forest, building their nests upon the summits of the crags and pinnacles in the wildest and most inaccessible places. It is always an impressive sight to see that magnificent bird, the bald-headed eagle, flying high over the lakes, crossing and recrossing the wooded continental watershed, equally at home among the sources of the Mississippi and Columbia, undisturbed by his only really dangerous enemy, rifle-bearing man.

The preservation of animal life, as it exists to-day under natural conditions within a government reservation, may be purely a matter of sentiment; but surely this grand possession must be worth every effort to preserve it, even at considerable cost of time and money. With the encroachments of civilization, the demands of those seeking to use the Park for their own selfish ends must in the nature of things steadily increase. Pressure for timber and water privileges, and rights of way for railroad purposes, will constantly arise. The larger part of the timber reservation should become an integral part of the Park, as much of the game, and its best breeding-grounds, lie within this reservation. Let Congress adjust the boundaries in the best interests of the Park and the needs of traffic, clearly defining them in accordance with the present knowledge of the country, and then forever keep this grand national reservation intact. After this is done, the Park can be maintained only by the constant vigilance of enthusiastic friends, who realize its value for economic reasons, and believe in the purposes of the organic act setting it apart forever as a pleasure-ground for the people.

Arnold Hague.

A Mountain Fraud

My acquaintance with Lanahan began at Eagle Rock, Idaho, in August, 1890, where we met to undertake a trip into Jackson's Hole. Mr. Melville Hanna and I had come from the east to make a hunt, and Lanahan had been engaged to purchase and superintend our outfit by a railway official at Boise, whom he had impressed with a belief in his remarkable fitness for both purposes.

When we reached Eagle Rock, Lanahan was on hand with eight pack-horses, an elderly man called Mason, and an Englishman as cook. The cook claimed to have practised his vocation in the service of a duke on land, and an admiral on the deep, each of whom parted from him with a grief he was unable to conceal. He had come west for recreation and from a desire to see the country, was accustomed to riding, consequent upon having followed the hounds with his ducal employer, and intended, after seeing us safely back from our trip, to return to the assistance of the admiral, whose ship was on the way to Halifax. On inspecting Lanahan's list of supplies, we found that he had bought a good-sized stove and an assortment of delicacies such as I am sure never started for Jackson's Hole before. There were oysters put up in various ways, tins of cauliflower, peas, all the fruits of the Occident, and numerous exotic preserves which we had never heard of. The array looked too great for our eight horses to carry, and when we started next day this proved to be the fact.

Lanahan was a big burly fellow with a most repulsive countenance and with great powers of conversation. He had lived so long in the West that he had lost the manner of speech of his native isle, except when excited or frightened, and he regaled us the evening before starting with thrilling tales of his personal exploits with Indians and wild beasts. He professed to have passed years as the confidential scout of Howard, Custer, and Crook, and the last named owed the fame he had attained as an Indian-fighter to his implicit adherence to Lanahan's advice on several critical occasions. As to game, he had fairly wallowed in the gore of bears and lions, and he promised to escort me to my first encounter with a silver-tip, the death of which was to be brought about by my opening fire on him at 600 yards and keeping it up during the ensuing charge, Lanahan standing by peacefully until the bear rose to embrace me, when he would give him the coup de grace with "Old Nance," as he fondly called his rifle. He also announced his intention of shooting any Indians who might come to our camp, if they did not promptly leave at his bidding.

Next morning Mason and Lanahan began packing, and Lanahan showed by the humility with which he endured the deserved abuse of Mason that he was as ignorant of the art as we afterward found him of every other, except that of dissimulation. Mason was finally obliged to substitute our cook as helper, and Lanahan, in order to recover his prestige, spoke of the dangerous character of the horse-thieves of Jackson's Hole, and showed a map of the country made by old Jackson himself, then languishing in Boise jail, also a letter from the same hand introducing Lanahan to the present head of the association, who would, on its presentation, protect our stock and return without cost any that had previously been stolen. At starting, Hanna and I went on ahead, and were presently joined by Mason and the cook with the packs; but as Lanahan did not appear, we sent back Mason, who produced him in about an hour, quite flushed as to his countenance and uncertain as to his speech, but with that part of his intellect devoted to lying as unclouded as ever. His delay, he stated, had been caused by his horse rearing and falling on him, whereat he became so faint from pain that he was unable to move until after a long rest and the administration of a teaspoonful of the best brandy every fifteen minutes. About this time the packs began to loosen and get lopsided, and one of the pack-horses, called Emigrant, would occasionally lie down, and have to be assisted to his feet by the united strength of the party. We were able to keep him going only by having the cook lead him while Hanna and I beset him with blows in the rear.

In consequence of these misfortunes, our progress was so slow that we made camp that night only six miles from our starting-point. The next night we reached Big Butte Ferry, the trouble about the packs keeping up, and Emigrant growing more and more averse to the exertions required from him. At this point we "cached" the stove, stovepipe, and half a dozen of our most useless pots and pans despite the remonstrances of our cook, and engaged a young man named Joe, who had been out for a month prospecting for coal, but was quite willing to turn back with us. Reaching the village of Kaintuck at noon, we camped in the corral of the livery-stable, and in less than half an hour our cook betook himself to one of the neighboring saloons, where we shortly found him so drunk as to be incapable of speech or motion, but--as we judged from never seeing him again--still able to understand that he was discharged.

During the afternoon we fell into conversation with a bright, active-looking fellow who came to call on us; and, finding that he was familiar with the Teton country, had hunted and trapped around Jackson's Lake, and claimed to be an expert packer and first-class cook, we added him to our party in these capacities. Later, Lanahan came to us in great agitation, and said that Harrington, our new man, was a very dangerous character, and had just been pardoned from jail, where he was serving a twenty-five years' sentence for horse-stealing; that he had broken out once, and had been recaptured only after an exciting chase of seventy-five miles, during which he had been shot in the leg. We asked Harrington about this. He admitted its substantial truth, but said he was innocent of the crime, and had been the victim of malicious persecution by some men who wanted to "jump" his ranch in the Teton valley; so we decided to take him along, and did not regret it. The disposition by sale for $20 of a large quantity of our delicacies to the Mormon storekeeper at Kaintuck lessened the weight of our packs, which Harrington made up next morning in less than half the usual time, to the evident disgust of Lanahan and Mason. Before leaving the town, Harrington took me to a saloon where hung several drawings he had made of elk and Indians, which were as true to nature in their general features as anything of the kind I have ever seen, and caused me to believe that he only needed education to make him distinguished. He had never had any instruction, and his only artistic implement was a lead-pencil.

When we reached the Teton Valley, Lanahan, who had taken up riding ahead to "look out the trail," which was as definite as Broadway, and to protect us against the dangers which encompassed our path, learned from a passer-by that fifty lodges of Lemhi Indians were before us on a hunt. He called Hanna and me to one side, when he conveyed this information, and said he was now convinced of what he had suspected from the first, that Harrington's joining us was part of a plot between him and the Lemhis to facilitate the running off of our horses, and an incidental murder or two, if necessary. That night we camped on the west side of Mount Hayden, the biggest of the Tetons, close by the place where the Indians had stayed a few days before; and Lanahan armed himself and climbed a little peak at some distance from the trail to "look for Indian signs," as he said. At the fire, after supper, he informed us that years ago he was well acquainted with old Teton, after whom the mountains were named, and who had lived in the valley when it was fairly alive with game.