Although it is commonly so called, the central portion of this mass is not, strictly speaking, a plateau; at least it is by no means a level region, but an undulating country, broken by abrupt escarpments and long table-like ridges of gently inclined rocks. It is accidented by shallow depressions and valleys of varied outline, the irregularities of lava flows adding much to the diversity of surface forms and features. Deep cañons and gorges cut the plateau, and penetrate nearly to the base of the accumulated lavas. These nearly horizontal lavas rest against the steeper slopes of the encircling mountains. The foot-hills, in contrast with the plateau, afford a more broken character, the intermontane valleys become deeper, the country gradually growing rougher until the higher summit of the ranges present an indescribable array of crags and precipices reaching far above the timber-line. The Rocky Mountains nowhere offer a rougher tract of country than the Absaroka Range bordering the Park on the east. Such an elevated mass naturally becomes a storm center, attracting moisture-laden clouds. The concentration and precipitation of this moisture in the form of rain and snow furnishes during the year an amount of water exceptionally large for the Rocky Mountains. An abundant supply of rain and snow favors a forest growth, which in turn aids to conserve the water. In consequence a luxuriant growth of nutritious grasses springs up, accompanied by a varied undergrowth of bush and shrub. Observation of mountain, valley, and plateau shows that about 84 per cent. of the Park is forest-clad. Over the greater part of the timber reservation the proportion of forest is not quite so great, much of the higher mountains being above timber-line, or else in the southern part more open and park-like, with long stretches of grass-lands dotted here and there with groups of picturesque pines.
Across the plateau, with a very sinuous course, stretches the Continental Divide, separating the waters of the Atlantic from those of the Pacific. On the plateau on both sides of this divide lie magnificent sheets of water, notably the Yellowstone, Shoshone, Lewis and Heart lakes, forming a most characteristic feature of the country. This part of the Park has been designated the "lake region." Hundreds of smaller lakes and ponds occupy depressions either in the ancient lava flows or in basins of glacial origin. Scattered over plateau and mountain are bogs, marshes, and meadows in marked contrast to most of the Rocky Mountain country. Innumerable perennial springs reach the surface from beneath the rocks. Around the borders of these lakes and ponds stretch fringes of alpine meadows, affording excellent grazing-grounds. Yellowstone Lake, with a shore-line of nearly 100 miles, is encircled by old lake terraces and glacial benches covered with bunch grass and capable of supporting large herds of wild animals. To one familiar with the plateau along the continental watershed it is possible to travel for miles keeping clear of timber by following from one to the other the open, winding glades and long stretches of meadows and shallow drainage-channels which carry the melting snows to the sources of the Yellowstone and Snake rivers. It is in these secluded nooks and sheltered spots that one finds the game.
A reservation for the protection and maintenance of our large game under natural conditions requires an extensive region unbroken by an area adapted for the abode of man or subject to the disturbances of a continuous traffic. With the rapid encroachments of civilization in the Rocky Mountains, these conditions demand that the country set apart should be unfit for agricultural purposes, and free from mineral resources to tempt the cupidity of the advance-guard of settlers. The Yellowstone Park meets the requirements of such a natural reservation better than any other locality that could be selected. The severity of its climate during the greater part of the year renders the region a forbidding one for settlement and permanent occupation by man. On the other hand, the broad expanse of forest incloses sequestered nooks, and enticing grassy parks, with absolute seclusion in mountain recesses admirably adapted for the homes of wild animals. It is the great diversity of its physical features, offering within a restricted area all the requirements for animal life, which fits it for the home of big game. Abundant food supply, shelter from wind and weather in winter, cool resorts on the uplands in summer, favorable localities for breeding purposes and the rearing of young, all are found here. The Park supplies what is really needed—a zoölogical reservation where big game may roam unmolested by the intrusion of man, rather than a zoölogical garden inclosed by fences, and the game fed or sustained more or less by artificial methods. To most travelers who make the accustomed tour and seldom leave the beaten track, it is a surprise and regret that they see so little game, and they are apt to question its existence in any considerable numbers. In summer the game seldom frequents the geyser basins or places of popular resort, but wanders about undisturbed by the throng of pleasure-seekers. If one wishes to see game he must leave the dusty roads and noisy stages, and travel by pack-train the unfrequented trails into the secluded portions of the Park. Few care to take this trouble, as the rules, rigidly enforced, prevent the trying of their skill with the rifle, when they meet the objects of their search. For game protection scouts, foresters, and gamekeepers are required. These could not well be supplied, except at great expense, were it not that the natural wonders of the region, which each season attracts such large crowds, demand for the maintenance of peace and order that United States troops be stationed there for the protection of the Park, and the observance of the necessary rules and regulations. All the large game animals of the northern Rocky Mountains are known in the Park except the white goat (Mazama montana) and the caribou (Rangifer tarandus), and it seems probable that the former, if introduced, would remain, as their favorite haunts, mountain fastnesses, are not unlike the Absarokas. Elk, moose, deer, antelope, mountain sheep, buffalo, and bears are found. Of all the game, elk most abound, roaming over mountain, plateau, and valley alike, the higher portions in summer, the lower in winter. For elk, the park is an ideal country. They frequent the alpine meadows and grassy terraces, passing freely from one to the other of the open uplands. Where streams flow through these openings, or ponds occupy shallow depressions, the elk resort to them in large numbers during summer and autumn. The accompanying picture gives an excellent illustration of such a favorite haunt.
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.
A Mountain Pasture.
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 cañon 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.