The Yellowstone National Park: Historical and Descriptive

by Hiram Martin Chittenden

The party then ascended the lofty mountain to their right, now known as Mt. Washburn, and from its summit looked around upon the vast panorama which is now included in the Yellowstone National Park. Had old James Bridger been present at that moment, he would have received ample vindication for long-standing injustice at the hands of his incredulous countrymen. There were the Cañon and Falls and Lake of the Yellowstone, with evidence enough of boiling springs and geysers! The enthusiasm of the party was unbounded, and Lieutenant Doane exultingly declares that they were “more than satisfied with the opening up of the campaign.”

The pack-train continued its course along the side of the mountain, and went into camp after a march of only twelve miles. That evening, Messrs. Washburn, Doane, and Hedges went on ahead of the main party, discovering the extensive mud springs at the southern base of the mountain, and finally reached the verge of a cliff beyond which yawned the stupendous cañon of the Yellowstone. It was the first real view from near by, but darkness prevented further examination.

The next day saw the arrival of the party at the Falls of the Yellowstone, close by the mouth of Cascade Creek, which, with its Crystal Falls, received that day their present names. The remainder of this day, August 30th, and the next, were spent in exploring the cañon and measuring the heights of the falls. Messrs. Hauser and Stickney descended the sides of the cañon to the brink of the river about two miles below the falls; and Lieutenant Doane and Private McConnell accomplished the same difficult feat further down. It needs not to be said that the members of the party were profoundly impressed with the incomparable scenery of the Grand Cañon, although their descriptions of it are, perhaps, least satisfactory of any they have left us.

From the Cañon the party ascended the now placid river amid ever-changing wonders. They passed Sulphur Mountain and the uncanny region around the Mud Volcano and Mud Geyser, then crossed to the east shore of the river, and finally went into camp, September 3d, on the shore of the Yellowstone Lake. Here our explorers were again in ecstacies, and not without cause; for, seen under favoring conditions, this “watery solitude” is one of the most beautiful objects in nature.

After a day spent in this camp, the expedition continued by slow stages up the east shore of the lake. Messrs. Doane and Langford scaled the lofty Absaroka Range just east of the lake, being the first white men known to have accomplished this feat, and their names now designate two of its noblest summits.

September 7th, the party forded the Upper Yellowstone and traversed the almost impassable labyrinths of fallen timber between the several projecting arms. on the south of the lake. It was on this portion of the route, September 9th, that Mr. Everts became separated from his party, lost his horse with all his accoutrements, and commenced those “thirty-seven days of peril,” which so nearly cost him his life. This unfortunate affair cast a deep gloom over the little party and seriously interfered with the progress of the expedition. A week was spent in searching for the lost companion, without other result than the discovery of the hot springs basins at Hart Lake and on the west shore of the Yellowstone Lake.

At length it was concluded that Mr. Everts had either been killed or had wandered back home; and it was resolved to wait no longer. The party were surfeited with sight-seeing, and believed that they had now covered the whole ground. They therefore determined to strike across the mountains to the Madison and follow that stream to the settlements. They set out on the morning of September 17th, over rugged hills and through fallen timber, crossing the Continental Divide twice, and camping that night in an open glade on a small branch of the Firehole. While passing the second time over the Divide, they caught a glimpse of Shoshone Lake and erroneously thought it to be the head of the Firehole River.

At 9 A. M., September 18th, the march was resumed. The party soon reached the Firehole just above Kepler Cascade and thence followed down the course of the stream. Tourists who have visited the Park since 1891, when the new road from the Upper Basin to the Lake was opened, will remember that immediately after leaving “Old Faithful” they plunge into an unbroken pine forest and see no other evidences of geyser action until they reach the Lake. The situation of our homeward-bound explorers can thus be easily understood. They were traveling toward the geysers. The dense forest concealed every thing beyond the radius of a few hundred feet. In unsuspecting mood, bent only on getting home to tell their wonderful story, and perhaps to find their missing companion, they moved down the river, crossing it considerably below the site of the present bridge above the Upper Basin, and suddenly emerged from the timber into an open treeless valley. It was nearly noon of a clear, cool September day. Directly in front of them, scarcely two hundred yards away, a vertical column of water and steam was shooting upward a hundred and fifty feet into the air. The bright sunlight turned the clear water into a mass of glittering crystals, and a gentle breeze wafted the vast white curtain of steam far to the right across the valley. Thus it was that “Old Faithful,” as if forewarned of the approach of her distinguished visitors, gave them her most graceful salutation; and thus she bowed out the era of tradition and fable, and ushered the civilized world into the untrodden empire of the Fire King. Little wonder that our astonished explorers “spurred their jaded horses,” and “gathered around the wonderful phenomenon.”

The party spent only the remainder of the day and the following morning in the Upper Basin; but in that time saw seven of the principal geysers in action, and gave them their present names. [AD] They then passed down the river through the Middle and Lower Basins, but stopped to examine only such curiosities as were close by the river. Their rations were nearly gone, their lost companion was not found, and the desire to tell what they had already seen was greater than the desire to see more. They therefore made haste for home, and on the evening of September 19th encamped where the Firehole and Gibbon Rivers unite to form the Madison. From this point the party journeyed steadily homeward, conversing on the expedition of the past month, and planning how their great discovery might best be brought to the attention of the world.

[AD] See list of geysers, [Appendix A].