FOREST AND STREAM 
691 
A TRIP TO NORTH PARK. 
(FIFTH paper.) 
(from our staff CORRESPONDENT. I 
HE rapidity with which our western country is set¬ 
tling up, impresses me more and more each year. 
JuBt as soon as any section becomes safe, the Indians 
haring been driven off, the cattle men begin to drive 
their herds into it, and before long, one hears complaints 
that there are too many cattle there. The older settlers 
complain that the newer comers are “ crowding them,’' 
and soon the most energetic commence to move off in 
search of 1! fresh fields and pastures new.” I am told that 
horned cattle have never yet wintered in North Park, 
and it used to he said that the snow laid on the ground 
there all winter to a depth of ten feet and more. Never¬ 
theless, there are at present about six thousand head of 
beef steers on this range, a large part of which will 
pass the winter here. Last season the winter was an 
unusually open one, and the hunters that remained in 
the Park reported this spring, that there was but little 
snow on the ground at any time. Besides these cattle, 
there are a considerable number of horses here, most of 
which, however, will be kept up, and fed hay. The 
experiment which is thus being tried, will be watched 
with interest by stockmen, and, if it should prove suc¬ 
cessful, I shall expect to see many thousand cattle in 
the Park next year. It is not very probable that farm¬ 
ing, as applied to the production of cereal crops, will ever 
be carried on to any considerable extent in this region. 
The elevation is so great that there are few nights in the 
year when there is not a frost, . Alm ost every morning 
a flim of ice more or less thick is found on the water left 
in our buckets over night, and on one occasion this ice 
was about half an inch thick. 
Soon after leaving our camp on the Beaver, we reached 
what is termed the Neck of the Park, and passing over 
the divide, followed down a valley, at first narrow, but 
gradually becoming wider, which led us over a good, 
though somewhat hilly road, toward a more open country. 
Two or three hours of riding brought us to Pinkham’s 
rauche, where the Park begins. The road forks here, the 
left-hand branch leading along the east side of the Park 
down to the Owl Creek Mines and the various passes 
across the Range into Middle Park, while the right-hand 
road goes to the Han’s Peak Mines. We followed the 
latter for some distance, as it was our intention to go 
around Independence Mountain, and then strike back 
east to the road that leads to the Arapaho pass. 
Just after leaving Pinkliani’s, we passed a ranche near 
which is a small spring, from which bubbles up a con¬ 
stant supply of cool water abundantly charged up with 
carbonate of soda. It was fresh and delicious to the 
taste, and, could it be bottled and sent to a market, would 
no doubt compete for public favor with some of the famous 
mineral waters now bo popular. On the marshy spots near 
the spring were numbers of plover feeding, and W., with 
his shot gun had good sport-among them during the 
half hour which we occupied in tasting and testing the 
waters. 
The country at this point had been burned over, and 
was black and extremely desolate in appearance. I in¬ 
quired the cause of the fire, and learned from the owner 
of the ranche that the burn had been made to clear off 
the sage brush, which takes up so much room that might 
be occupied by grass, “ And then,” said my informant, 
‘ the cattle won’t graze where the sage brush is thick, 
they can’t; the branches stick into their eyes and 
’most blind ’em.” When the sage has been burned off, it 
is usually followed the next season by a crop of grass, and 
the field is thus very materially improved. Tho sage is a 
plant of slow growth, and requires many years to gain 
any great size or stoutness. One bad result which often 
follows this treatment of a range is that one of the first 
green things to make its appearance in spring is a plant 
which is said to be poisonous to cattle. This plant, of 
which, because it was so common, I failed to obtain 
specimens, and so cannot identify, is somewhat bushy, 
grows to a height of from one to two and a half feet, has 
a pinnate leaf, and bears numerous racemes of purplish 
or lilac colored flowers. It is quite showy and striking in 
appearance, and, though not uncommon anywhere, it 
springs up in greatest abundance on ground that has just 
been burned over. It is said, I know not how truly, that 
cattle eat it greedily in early spring, and that it is harm¬ 
less unless the root is eaten. One individual stated 
that men who have large herds send out parties of skin¬ 
ners, with teams, in spring to secure the hides of poison¬ 
ed cattle, but this statement, if received at all, should be 
taken with a very large allowance of salt. 
Soon after leaving the Soda Water Fountain we crossed 
a high and steep ridge, and then commenced a gradual 
descent toward the North Platte River, on which we 
intended to camp. The scenery through which we were 
passing was rugged and grand, the weathered pillars of 
granite standing out bare and grim among the ancient 
junipers on the hill side. The mountains, though not 
high, had a weird and spectral look, which came per¬ 
haps from their being absolutely bare of vegetation, ex¬ 
cept where an ..occasional cedar, extending its roots 
through a crevice in the granite had succeeded in drawing 
a little nourishment from the scanty soil beneath, and in 
maintaining an insecure foothold among the piles of 
rounded rocks. The weathering of the granite was finely 
exemplified here, and this hardest of rooks was worked 
into a thousand fantastic forms, each differing from its 
fellow, yet all presenting points of resemblance to one 
another. The granite contains much iron, and is there¬ 
fore easily worked upon by the weather, for as the iron 
oxidizes, the surface of the rock is disintegrated and 
breaks off with a cubical fracture, thus exposing a fresh 
surface. It results from this, that the rocks are all 
rounded and smoothed, and have no sharp angles. Many 
of them indeed resemble the rochea moutonnees, or sheep- 
backs, which are so often seen along the track of a glacier. 
The valley of the North Platte, where we pitched cam p, 
was perhaps a mile and a half wide, a superb level 
meadow, covered with fine grass, on which, in the morn¬ 
ing and evening, from two to five hundred antelope were 
in sight at one time. Sage and dusky grouse, ducks and 
jack rabbits abounded here also. If I bad the Bpace I 
would give in some detail a description of this country, 
for it is a most delightful one, and game is very abundant. 
It is only necessary to get back from the road to find both 
deer and elk. There are places, of course, where game 
is tamer, more abundant and more easily killed, but there 
is enough here for any one who does not care to slaughter 
recklessly. 
It is a curious fact, and one that I have never yet 
heard satisfactorily explained, that there are no trout to 
he found in the streams tributary to the North Platte 
River, while those which flow into the Grand, and the 
feeders of the Green, abound in small though most ex¬ 
cellent fish. There is nothing that I know of in the 
character of the water or bordering country which should 
prevent these fish from doing well in the numerous 
streams that flow into the Platte, but the fact remains 
that they are not there. Some enterprising individuals 
have even tried the experiment of transferring trout 
from the heads of streams flowing into the Snake and 
Bear rivers to springs which pour their waters into North 
Park, hut I have heard no reports as to the success or 
failure of these attempts to stock these streams. Cannot 
some fish culturist furnish to the readers of Forest and 
Stream an explanation of this, to me, puzzling question? 
Toward eveningyjf the day on -which we left our camp 
on the Platte, we reached the point where we had de¬ 
cided to leave the Haus Peak road and pass behind Inde¬ 
pendence Mountain. Just after leaving the road the 
wagon stuck in a creek crossing, owing to Fuller’s over¬ 
weening confidence in his team : and wo had two hours 
work to get them out again. Experience has taught me 
that it does not pay to try a bad crossing, until you have 
done all you can to improve it; but Fuller, who thought 
that his team could pull any load through a bog, jumped 
his horses off the bank into the creek, and there they 
stayed until with axe and shovel we made a road by which 
they could get out. 
Half a mile beyond this we camped in a narrow val¬ 
ley, and Fuller and I set off on foot to explore for a road 
behind the mountain. We found a very good one, lead¬ 
ing through a broad, valley on which the grass in some 
places stood waist high. All this pasture, for more than 
a mile before us, was dotted with antelope ; there must 
have been two or three hundred within half a mile from 
where we stood. They were feeding, perfectly unsus¬ 
picious of our proximity, and the nearest of them 
within easy rifle range. As we had plenty of meat in 
camp, however, and as neither A. nor W. had ever killed 
an antelope, we concluded not to disturb them, but hi the 
morning to bring the boys around and let them try their 
hand; so without showing ourselves we withdrew and 
returned to camp. 
The next morning I was aroused by several shots in 
front of the tent, aud found that a black-tail doe had 
walked into camp and had been killed by William, our 
cook. The antelope seen feeding the night before were 
found where we had left them, and were approached and 
6hot at; but without effect. The boys were probably too 
anxious to, shoot well, and so failed to kill anything. 
We found the road a good one, and travelled along a 
valley abounding in antelope until toward night, when 
camp was made at the foot of a high, bare Hogback, 
which runs north and south, a spur of the main range to 
the north. Near us .were half half a dozen large alkali 
lake, on the waters of which floated great numbers of 
ducks and geese ; while along the shore were numerous 
flocks of busy shore birds. Prominent among these were 
the beautiful avocets, striking objects from the contrast¬ 
ing black and white of their plumage ; the noisy tattlers, 
the long-billed curlews, and the restless Baird's sand¬ 
pipers. Many other species, which I have not space here 
to enumerate, were noticed. In the dead willows, wbioh 
were scattered through the little copse in which our tents 
were pitched, W. discovered a dozen magpies nests, curi¬ 
ous domestic structures ; tenantless now, of course, hut 
several showing signs of having been occupied this sum¬ 
mer. From one point in the grove a dozen or twenty 
long-eared owls were started, which, after flying aimlessly 
about in the bright sunlight, pitched hopelessly back into 
the undergrowth, no other refuge being at hand. 
In the afternoon I climbed the Hogback in order to as¬ 
certain what the prospects were for reaohing the snowy 
range which lay some ten or fifteen miles to the weBt; 
but on reaching the summit, after a very hard pull, I dis¬ 
covered that the whole range was on fire. Of coarse it 
was useless to look for game there. I was well repaid 
for my scramble up the Mil, however, for in the valley at 
my feet, stretching away to the west for seven or eight 
miles, and to the north and south for fifteen, lay the 
largest beaver meadow that I have ever seen. I presume 
that there were 500 dams in sight, most of them kept in 
good repair. The water set hack by these dams flowed 
through a thousand little canals and ditches, and the 
whole from the height looked like a silver net spread 
over an enormous carpet of emerald velvet. Th rough my 
glass I could count hundreds of beaver houses, and could 
even distinguish the green willow leaves on the branches 
recently used in repairing the works. Beyond this 
meadow was a narrow strip of brown prairie, and then 
tbe green pine timber began, and with it the foothills of 
the Snowy Range. Deep dark gorges run up the moun¬ 
tain sides, and seemed to promise an easy ascent; but the 
columns and masses of thick white smoke, which moved 
steadily along ftom the south toward where I sat looking, 
told me too surely that in a day or two at furthest the 
fire would be sweeping over the whole range. Above the 
smoke I could see again the green timber, and above them, 
the grim, grey rocks, bare of vegetation, and whitened 
a little higher up by patches of snow, pure and shining, 
when touched by the rays of the now sinking sun, but 
seeming grey and soiled when shaded by clouds. Turn¬ 
ing to the eastward and looking out over the broad val¬ 
ley through which we had just come, the view was 
scarcely less impressive. From my eyrie I could counf 
no less than twenty-two lakes of various sizes. Those 
furthest from me still gleamed in the sunlight like bur¬ 
nished silver, hut the nearer ones, shaded by the tower¬ 
ing peakB of the range, were dull and blue. With my 
glass I could just see upon the unruffled waters, little dot; 
representing the water-fowl peacefully swimming liithei 
and thither, and near the shores groups of antelope or 
their way from the water. Beyond the valley rose In 
dependence Mountain, wooded to its summit, two-third) 
of its height cold and hard in the shadow, but the sura 
mit still touched by the brilliant rays of the setting sun 
A few moments and the Light was gone. I turned for : 
last look at the snow capped mountains, and how changei 
was the scene! The hillsides were now indistinct anc 
blurred; but in the south, where an hour ago I had seei 
the white smoke, rose tongues of flame that seemed al 
most to lick the heavens, and beneath them the moun 
tain-side was a red furnace that caused the sky to glow 
ancl illumined the nearest snow-peaks with a roseate hue 
The scene was one of beauty and grandeur, but its beaut; 
was terrible and its grandeur filled me with awe. Hoi 
long I stood gazing at this wonderful picture I do nc 
know. I was recalled to myself by a furious storm o 
rain which began to fall, and picking up my rifle I slowl 
descended the mountain-side. Yo. 
Camp on the Michigan , North Parle, Col. 
JP? 
AN OLD FASHIONED TARGET MATCh 
[BY AN OCCASIONAL CORRESPONDENT.] 
I N the early days of the war of the rebellion it was di 
covered that rifle shooting in New England had almoi 
come to he numbered among the lost arts. A very laiy 
proportion of the men who enlisted as soldiers, partiei 
larly in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connection 
had no practical knowledge of the use of fire arms, ar 
very few indeed had ever used any more formidable we 
pon than a shot gun. It was not long before the super 
ority of the Southern sharpshooters began to make itse 
disagreeably manifest, and the New England men awol 
to the fact that this branch of education had been sham 
fully neglected, and the punishment they were receivii 
for their ignorance spurred them to take immediate ar 
active measures for relief. Rifle clubs were organize 
andweut into active practice everywhere, and in mai 
instances the men who had previously been looked up< 
as the idle vagabonds of tiie country villages because 
their innate love of shooting, came to the front and prov 
most efficient instructors in the heretofore despised a: 
An interesting lesson in social science might be drav 
from the fact that many a poor devil who had been i 
garded as the black sheep of his family before the ws 
was developed by its influence into a useful and effleie 
man. Provided there was nothing radically false, mea 
or vicious about him, the fact that the very acquiremei 
which had heretofore been looked upon with contem] 
were now in the ascendant, would suffice to inspire h; 
with an ambition he had never before felt. His selC- 
spect was developed by the novel sensation of findi 
himself respected by others, and once inspired by t 
stimulus of hope he was ready and willing to exert hi 
self in the new field that was open to him. 
But this is neither the time or place for moral lectur 
and the hint I have thus thrown out is at the service 
whoever feels inclined to enlarge upon it. 
The only breech-loaders which had proved of any pri 
tical utility before the war, were Sharps and May nan 
The former had made a name for itself in the Kam 
troubles, but was not deemed worthy of introduction 
the mili tary service of the United States. It used a paj 
cartridge and was altogether inferior to the excelli 
weapon now manufactured by the Sharps Company. 
