Mr. Russell’s final and most significant visit occurred during July and August of 1839. Upon this occasion there were only four in the party. They entered the Park by way of Snake River, passed the lakes now called Lewis and Shoshone, and visited the geyser basins. The white formations reminded the trappers of some ancient cities’ ruins. Mr. Russell’s description of Grand Prismatic Spring is satisfactory as of today. From the Firehole Basin they circled the Park clockwise and came to rest on Pelican Creek, near Yellowstone Lake’s outlet. The date was August 28, 1839; the time of day, 4:00 P.M. Russell had taken a swim in the lake; White was sleeping; the Canadian and Elbridge were hunting elk. In these circumstances a large band of Blackfeet made a surprise attack. Russell and White were both wounded but managed to escape. The next day they were joined by the Canadian. Together, and on foot, the three trappers wound a tortuous course to the Thumb of Lake, and thence south to Jackson Lake. After many harrowing experiences and much discomfort they reached Fort Hall on September 6. A week later Elbridge also reached the fort, and in a short time they were all ready for new adventure.
Another party of forty men went through almost the identical experience in 1839. They entered the area via the Snake River, crossed the Divide, and trapped the upper Yellowstone to the lake. Near its outlet they fought Piegan Indians and lost five men, with the same number wounded.[104] Yellowstone was not a choice trapping ground and the risks involved by reason of remoteness and Indian menace offset the margin of profit.
Upon interrogation relative to Yellowstone, Captain Bonneville said, “You ask me if I know of the thermal springs and geysers. Not personally, but my men knew about them, and called their location the ‘Fire Hole.’”
From these sources it is apparent that many trappers traversed the “crest of the world,” and its secrets were common knowledge among the whole fraternity. The evaluation placed upon these singular experiences would naturally depend upon the judgment of the several hunters. Father DeSmet took the liberty of placing their reactions upon a superstitious basis. He said the region was considered an abode of evil spirits. The eruptions were supposed to result from combat between infernal spirits. This was probably the view of some, but all hunters were not such tyros in natural science. Indeed, it is quite reasonable to suppose that at least a few were first-rate naturalists. However, some of them were killed in the wilderness; others withdrew to other fields of interest; and none of them envisioned any lively public concern over scenery. A few had gone to the trouble of recording and relating their experiences only to be laughed to scorn or made the butt of jokesters. Why should honest men like Colter, Meek, and Ferris go out of their way simply to be dubbed outlandish prevaricators? Of course, the answer is found in the fact that as a class they deliberately brought such a reputation upon themselves. Take the case of Joe Meek. Upon one occasion his party was floundering about in the Gallatin Valley. Meek suggested that their bewilderment might be lessened by climbing a high peak and getting their bearings. No one would accompany him so he went alone. When he returned there was considerable interest in his experience. Naturally his ego expanded; he took on a knowing air. He erroneously contended that he could see the Yellowstone, Missouri, and Snake rivers from the lofty height. Later, the brigade leader sent Moses “Black” Harris to another high point to reconnoiter. When he returned the men pressed him for information, and, not to be outdone, he declared that he saw “the city of St. Louis, and one fellow drinking a beer.”[105]
Therefore, two conditions combined to withhold the knowledge of Yellowstone wonders from the world. The men who knew of her marvels were seldom equipped to describe or interpret them, and the public was in no better state to accept them. Hence, this trapper lore was barren of result, locked up as it was in the minds of generally illiterate men. It all but perished with them and had no definite bearing upon the final and conclusive discovery. For more than a generation the tales of trappers were bandied around on the lips of indifferent mountaineers. In this rough dress the wonders of Yellowstone were either received with uncivil incredulity or as a joke to be indulgently humored.
Conclusive evidence of the trappers’ discovery and exploration of Yellowstone has been adduced. The fur traders were well acquainted with every portion of it, but their knowledge passed with them. Only a tradition persisted. In 1860 the elements of this tradition came within a rifle shot of conversion to truth. During the latter fifties the United States government had a corps of Topographical Engineers in the upper Missouri country. Only a double assignment to Captain W. F. Raynolds saved the Park from official discovery in June, 1860. He was directed to explore the country from which the headwaters of the Yellowstone, Gallatin, and Madison rivers originated. He was also told to be on hand north of the Canadian border on July 18 to observe the eclipse of the sun.
The expedition traversed the Wind River Valley, crossed Union Pass, and turned north. From a position nearly opposite Two Ocean Pass the party attempted to knife its way through the Absaroka Mountains, but it was June, and the defiles were choked with snow. Guide Jim Bridger pleaded with them to swing south and enter the plateau from Snake River. He told them they couldn’t get through, that even a “bird wouldn’t fly over there without takin’ a supply of grub along.” But the time was short, and Captain Raynolds reluctantly turned away from the prospect of verifying “marvelous tales of burning plains, immense lakes and boiling springs,” to witness the certain obliteration of Old Sol. It was a lucky choice for the future of Yellowstone because discovery in 1860 could hardly have been so propitious as it was a decade later.
Parties in Search of Gold
Another series of partial exploration was inaugurated in the early sixties by the Argonauts. Nature’s distribution of precious metals is rather far-flung in western America. Therefore, miners were not inclined toward geographic discrimination. Spirit brothers to the trappers, they searched the Rockies with wonderful energy and daring. Deep snow, arctic cold, yawning precipices, and fierce Indians were all defied in their eager quest for a new Eldorado. It would have been strange indeed if they had missed the Yellowstone country.
Gold seekers were hardy, optimistic, and foot-loose. Ever impatient of restraint, they responded like mercury to the fever of a “gold excitement.” To them every range, mountain, and gulch offered a challenge that required acceptance. Actuated by a single thought, these colorful adventurers literally swarmed to the Pacific coast in ’49. Subsequently, a backwash rolled over into Nevada and Idaho. In the sixties Montana received a portion of the overflow. The Bitter Root Range was prospected with a “fine tooth comb.” In feverish haste these prospectors encompassed the whole of Yellowstone. However, this vast volcanic plateau provided little inducement to tarry, while other regions in close proximity yielded one of the greatest treasure troves on earth. In the decade of 1860, Alder Gulch, Bannock, Virginia, Leesburg, Butte, Helena, and Anaconda were magic names. What chance for attention had Yellowstone’s mountain-locked mysteries in such a maelstrom of lusty life and immediate material reward?