I 880 



After about a month in the Yellowstone National 

 Park during the summer and early fall of 1880, I 

 determined to cross the mountains to the east of 

 the Yellowstone Lake, drop down on the waters 

 of the famous Stinking River, and spend the 

 remainder of the season hunting on that stream 

 and its tributaries until driven out by the snow. 

 Then I intended passing to the plains below and 

 following the foothills of the mountain ranges 

 bordering the Yellowstone River on the south, to 

 return to my old winter quarters at Bozeman. 

 George Herendeen 63 was with me as guide, 

 mentor and friend, and a Swedish boy as cook and 

 camp keeper. 



Our first camp half way up the mountainside 

 was in a park bordering Brimstone Lake. On the 

 south side sputtered a small group of geysers that 

 were constantly steaming and fuming. From the 

 southeast a small mountain stream of pure cold 

 water entered the park. It was ten or twelve feet 

 across and a foot deep. Near where it entered the 



