THE NATIONAL PARK PROTECTIVE ACT.
One of the most important milestones in the history of the Park has been so recently set that the public is as yet not fully conscious of its existence. It has already been stated that for more than twenty years the Park was wholly without adequate statutory protection; and that this long-standing defect was finally remedied by the enactment of a comprehensive measure in the spring of 1894. The circumstances attending the passage of this Act, and the prompt manner in which a great misfortune was changed into a lasting benefit, form one of those singular instances of good fortune which have so largely characterized the history of this region.
Bills providing suitable protection for the Park were introduced at the First Session of the Fifty-third Congress, just as they have been for the past twenty years, and apparently with not much greater chance of success. The wanton recklessness of those who seek special privileges in the Park, and are unwilling that any measure for its welfare shall pass unless coupled with their own private schemes, threatened this time, as hitherto, to defeat Congressional action. But an unforeseen event, of such powerful bearing as practically to override all opposition, occurred in March, 1894, and quickly brought about the desired consummation.
It is well known that the only herd of bison, now roaming in their native condition within the present limits of the United States, is in the Yellowstone National Park. There has always been a lively interest in the preservation of this herd, and its extinction would be regarded as a deplorable calamity. With proper protection, it will undoubtedly flourish, but there is no margin for carelessness or neglect.
During the winter of 1894, Captain George S. Anderson, U. S. A., Superintendent of the Park, learned that snow-shoe tracks had been seen along Astringent Creek in the Pelican Valley east of the Yellowstone River, in territory ranged over by the buffalo in winter. The same tracks were seen near Soda Butte station pointing toward Cooke City. Inquiry proved them to have been made by one Howell, a well-known poacher and lawless character, who was evidently driving his trade in the winter buffalo country. It was apparent that he had left the Park for supplies and would soon return. Captain Anderson accordingly laid his plans for capture.
There has been given a brief account of the winter expedition through the Park in the spring of 1894, of which Mr. F. J. Haynes and Scout Burgess were members. Burgess was instructed to examine the country east of the Yellowstone and obtain, if possible, a clue to Howell’s whereabouts. Early on the morning of March 12th, he set out from the Lake hotel with a single companion, Private Troike, of the Sixth Cavalry, and before it was scarcely daylight struck a dim snow shoe trail in the valley of Astringent Creek. Soon after, he found the poacher’s teepe and a number of buffalo heads hung up, by means of a pulley, to the limb of a tree so as to be out of the reach of wolves. Every thing indicated that the poacher was there for a business of some duration and magnitude.
Leaving the teepe and following Howell’s morning trail for some distance, Burgess' attention was soon arrested by six rifle reports. These six shots slew five buffalo. Burgess soon discovered Howell, engaged in skinning the head of one of the buffalo. His rifle was leaning against another some fifteen feet from him. A dog (but this Burgess did not know) was coiled up under the leg of a buffalo. Burgess thus had the dangerous duty to perform of crossing the intervening space of some four hundred yards, where there was no cover and where he might easily be seen by Howell or the dog. Considering the desperate character of these poachers, and the fact that Burgess was armed only with a revolver as against Howell’s rifle, the peril involved in this capture may be easily appreciated. But fortune was on Burgess' side. A heavy storm was on, and the wind was blowing direct from Howell to Burgess. This prevented the dog from scenting approach, and Howell from hearing any noise, from the leeward. Burgess did not stop to reckon the chances of success, but promptly sallied forth upon his intended victim. On his way he ran upon an open ditch about ten feet wide. To make a snow shoe jump on level ground is a feat of much difficulty; but Burgess managed to accomplish it. By good fortune nothing happened to arouse Howell, and Burgess got within fifteen feet of him before he was aware that there was any one within as many miles. With Burgess' cocked revolver over him, he discreetly surrendered. Private Troike was summoned, the rifle and accoutrements were seized, and the party set out at once for the Lake hotel. But such are the difficulties of snow shoe travel in this region, that it was long after dark before they reached their destination.
The Yellowstone Park Association keeps a solitary watchman at each of its hotels during winter, and has a telephone line connecting each with Mammoth Hot Springs. By virtue of this lucky fact, Howell’s capture, though made some sixty miles from the nearest telegraph station, and in a region where winter travel is impossible except on snow shoes, was made known to the Superintendent before 9:30 P. M. that day. By another stroke of good fortune a representative of Forest and Stream was at that moment present at Mammoth Hot Springs. He had arrived but two days before and remained a guest of the Superintendent prior to a tour of the Park, which began two days later. The news of Howell’s capture was at once put on the wire, and in less that twenty-four hours, Forest and Stream was represented in Washington with a new and powerful argument for the passage of the Offenses Bill. The imminent danger of the speedy and entire extinction of the only remaining herd of buffalo in the country produced the desired effect in Congress, and on May 7, 1894, the bill became a law.
It was throughout a most fortunate combination of circumstances that made this consummation possible. A Superintendent thoroughly devoted to the care of his important charge, and fearless in the execution of his duty; a scout who had the nerve to make an arrest full of peril to himself; the existence of a winter telephone line to the heart of that inaccessible region; the presence at Mammoth Hot Springs of a representative of that journal which holds first rank among the protectors of the Park; and uncommon good, luck in minor details, caused this important event to cast its influence into the national councils almost before the echo of the poacher’s rifle shots had died away among the mountains. Howell’s act was a misfortune—a grievous misfortune—to the game interests of the Park; but its immediate result in legislation will prove a benefit of far greater consequence.
Howell was brought to Mammoth Hot Springs and was there imprisoned in the Fort Yellowstone guardhouse, and his case reported to Washington. As there was no law for his trial and punishment, the Secretary of the Interior in due time ordered his release. He was accordingly put out of the Park and forbidden to return without permission. But with his habitual disregard of authority, he came back during the following summer and was discovered by the Superintendent in a barber’s chair at Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel. He was promptly arrested and tried under the new law for violating the orders of the Superintendent in returning. He was convicted and sentenced to one month’s imprisonment and fifty dollars fine. He thus became the Park Haman—first to be hanged upon the gallows of his own building.