Jack in the Rockies: A Boy's Adventures with a Pack Train

by George Bird Grinnell

The next morning they moved camp, and rode over toward the river intending to look at the Grand cañon, and the wonderful falls of which they had heard.

Although the Yellowstone Park had been known for more than ten years, few people had as yet visited it. Nevertheless, they saw a number of visitors, some travelling with teams, and some with pack trains, and altogether the Park seemed quite a bustling place. That night they camped on the head of Alum Creek, and the next day, leaving their pack horses picketed and hobbled at the camp, rode over to see the falls. They rode first down toward the river, passing the Sulphur Mountain, a great barren hill, full of hot springs and sulphur vents, about which much sulphur had been deposited. Many fragments of the bright yellow mineral were strewn on the ground, and at one place Hugh noticed where two or three grass blades had fallen across one of the vents' and calling the boys' attention to this, they all dismounted to look at it. About these blades of grass, and on their slender heads, most delicate and beautiful crystals of sulphur had collected. These were so fragile that a little motion made them loose their hold, and drop from the grass, or else break, so that it was impossible to carry them away. Near here, at the foot of the hill, was a large spring, six or eight feet in diameter, and boiling violently. The water was sometimes thrown up eight or ten feet high, not in jets, but seemingly by impulses from the center of the pool, so that the spray was sent outward in all directions.

They then followed down the river for two or three miles. It was a broad stream, swiftly-rushing yet smooth, and nowhere interrupted by rocks or rapids until the upper falls were almost reached. Here were short rough rapids and then the tremendous falls. The great mass of dark water glided rather than plunged into the depths below, and just below the crest of the cataract was broken into white foam, which, further down changed to spray. The falls are 162 feet high, and clouds of white vapor constantly rose from the water below, and hid the view. Looking down the stream, they had a glimpse of the wonderful cañon below.

The roar of the falls was so tremendous that conversation was impossible, and nothing was said; but presently they left the upper falls and rode on north to the lower one. Here was repeated the marvelous impression which they got from this tremendous body of water falling 150 feet sheer to the great basin below, and from under the mist cloud that hid the foot of the fall came out the narrow green ribbon of the river, winding and twisting, hardly to be recognized as a river, dwarfed by distance, and creeping with a slow oily current. On either side the stream rose the walls of the cañon, five or six hundred feet to the pine-fringed margin above.

Looking down the stream, Jack saw a cañon a thousand feet deep, and perhaps twice as wide, extending for miles to the northward. Its sides were curiously sculptured and carved into fantastic forms. In one place a vertical cliff supported lofty cones of rock, ranged side by side upon the same horizontal ledge along its face. Again, a narrow buttress arose from the river's level in a series of pinnacles and turrets overtopping one another, until the summit of the cañon wall was reached. At one place that wall was so nearly perpendicular that it seemed as though a stone dropped from the edge of the cliff would fall at once into the water of the river. In another, the decomposing rock had been eaten away above until a talus of fallen rock and earth arose in a steep slope half way to the top. But to Jack's mind the glory of the cañon was in its color. The walls glowed with a vivid intense radiance which is not less wonderful than beautiful. Browns and reds and pinks and yellows, and delicate grays and pure whites had painted these hard rocks with a wealth of coloring hardly to be described in words. In the sun the cañon walls shone with brilliancy. When the clouds passed over the sky they grew duller and softer, but were hardly less beautiful. Down close to the river were the most vivid greens, and in the mist which rose from the foot of the fall were seen, when the sun was shining, all the hues of the rainbow.

The travellers sat long watching this wonderful sight, and then pushing along the margin of the cañon, below the falls, walked out on a projecting point of rock, and looked up and down the river. The more they gazed, the more wonderful it seemed, the harder to take it all in, and the harder to put into words.

On a pinnacle of rock, rising from the end of the point on which they had walked, was a great nest, in which the boys noticed two large and downy young birds. Flying up and down over the river, sometimes low over the water, again far above the heads of those who stood on the edge of the cañon, were great hawks—eagles, Hugh afterward said they were, but Jack recognized them as fish-hawks—and while they were standing there, one of these great birds brought a fish to the nest, and tearing it to pieces with its beak, gave the fragments to its greedy young. Jack noticed, also, little sparrow-hawks flying about the edge of the cañon, and, far below at the edge of the river, saw little birds flying from point to point, which he thought must be dippers.

The whole day was spent here, for no one seemed to wish to return to the camp; but at last, as the sun swung low, and the pangs of hunger began to be felt, they returned to their horses, and mounting them, were soon at camp once more.

The next morning they set out up the river to go to the lake. On the way they passed two well known places. The Mud Volcano, a huge hot spring of gray clay, which steamed, and bubbled, and thumped, and sometimes spouted, throwing up its mud to a great height. Jack in his mind compared the boiling mud to mush boiling in a kettle, but as this pool of mud was fifty feet in diameter, the comparison was not a good one. All about, the trees were splashed with mud, which had dried on them, showing that at some time, not long before, there had been an eruption. Nearby, on the hillside, was a steam spring in a little cavern, which they had heard of as the Devil's Workshop. From this cavern came constantly great volumes of steam, while within it were heard hollow bubbling noises, which sounded like the clang and clash of great pieces of machinery turning. It was a mysterious place, and neither one of the three cared to go very close to it. There were boiling springs and sulphur vents hereabout in great plenty, and the place seemed an uncanny one.

The way to the lake was attractive: it led through forests, sometimes of living green, and at others killed by fire. Occasionally they passed through pretty grassy meadows, and from them had charming views of the river, which grew wider as they approached the lake, and seemed to spread out over wide flats. To the right the mountains rose sharply, forming the "Elephant's Back," a thousand feet in height.