222 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[April 7, 1887- 



HARMONS BRAG. 

 (, py the time I am through with you I will try to show 

 -L* you that my letter to Mr. Huntoon was not brag," 

 wrote Adjutant-General George M, Harmon, of Connec- 

 ticut, to Commissioner Stilwell, of Maine. It now ap- 

 pears that it was brag, after all, and a Tery harmless sort 

 of brag at that. 



The hearing on the charges drummed up among all 

 ranks of Maine poachers against the Commissioners was 

 held last week. It ended in a complete vindication for 

 the Commissioners on every count. With respect to the 

 charge that Commissioner Stanley had sold some fish 

 eggs belonging to the State, it was shown that the eggs 

 were his; the charge that the Commissioners had used 

 State funds to pay their private debts fell through when 

 it was shown that the payment in question was made by 

 the State Treasurer upon warrant by the Governor and 

 Council, and was to pay the expenses of Mr. Stilwell's 

 defense, when in his official capacity he had been ma- 

 liciously prosecuted by Harmon. In like manner, one 

 after another, all these trumped up charges were shown 

 to be as empty and harmless as the inflated bladders with 

 which the clowns in a comedy whack each other over the 

 shoulder. 



The result was more than a vindication. By drawing 

 public attention anew to the efficiency of the Commission, 

 by laying bare the motives and purposes of the generals 

 and professional deer butchers who have had occasion to 

 resent these officials' performance of duty, and by 

 demonstrating- how utterly groundless are the strongest 

 charges which these disgruntled elements can muster, 

 this hearing will strengthen public confidence in the 

 Commission, and forward the cause of game protection 

 in Maine. 



Harmon's letter to warden Huntoon was after all very 

 like blow, brag and bluster. 



In a paper in Seribner's Magazine on "American Ele- 

 phant Myths," Mr. W. B. Scott presents evidence to show 

 that the prehistoric American sportsman counted ele- 

 phants among the big game that tempted his powers and 

 skill. "The testimony — geological, archaeological and 

 traditional— goes to show," concludes Mr. Scott, "that 

 not very many centuries ago elephants were an important 

 element in American life." A cursory glance at the 

 spring-time circus bill-boards will discover ample evidence 

 that the elephant fills a very large and important place 

 in American life even now. Since the elephants that once 

 disputed with the grizzly supremacy in American wilds 

 were huge and savage, the Seribner's writer ventures 

 the unsportsmanlike sentiment of " thanking heaven 

 that the whole generation is extinct." "What a piquancy 

 and zest a race of American elephants would lend cur- 

 rent discussions of explosive bullets and muzzleloading 

 rifles. 



WINTER IN WONDERLAND. 



THROUGH THE YELLOWSTONE PARK ON SNOWSHOES. 

 I. 



VTAMMOTH HOT SPRINGS, Yellowstone National 

 -L*J- Park, March 7, 1887.— Editor Forest and Stream, 

 Having completed the midwinter snowshoe expedition 

 through the National Park undertaken at the instance of 

 the Forest and Stream, and as a special commissioner 

 of that -journal, I submit herewith my report of the trip. 



To seethe Park in its Arctic attire, one must visit it after 

 the 15th of January; before that date the frost has not had 

 time to do its best work. I desired to make the trip with 

 only one companion, and this only after my friend had 

 requested me to take him. I prefer to make most of my 

 trips alone. A young man, Jack Tansey, said he would 

 go with me. He had had no experience in snowshoeing, 

 but as I intended to travel slowly, I thought he could 

 make the stations and camps without any trouble. He. 

 was acquainted with some parts of the Park, and had 

 been over most of the route with me last summer. He 

 proved to be a very agreeable camp companion. 



The outfit I thought necessary to take with us included 

 an Indian lodge for shelter while camping out. This was 

 10ft. in diameter on the ground, made of heavy sheeting, 

 and weighed complete, lilhs. A small chopping hatchet, 

 handle and all, 2£lbs. A pocket knife for each of us, two 

 sheath knives and one revolver between us, a small .38-cal. 

 Smith & Wesson— carried for fear of an accident. I 

 could use it to build a fire or kill small game if we ran out 

 provisions. Then there were a small compass, a package 

 of small screws of various sizes under 1-Jih. to mend 

 broken snowshoes, and two miner's candles each. We 

 took a change of underclothing and socks, which were 

 also to be used for extra clothing in extreme cold weather. 

 Each had a pint cup. I took from here 51bs. of sugar, lib. 

 of best black tea, salt, 1,000 matches, £lb. extract of beef. 

 21bs. condensed soup. Bedding and provisions for the 

 camping out part of our trip I intended to get at the 

 Upper Geyser Basin. 



To make my Indian lodge I drew a half circle on a floor 

 21ft. in diameter, laid down the. sheeting on the straight 



line, cut off at the circle, allowing for hem; lapped on^in. 

 and cut off, until I had the marked space covered. Then I 

 lapped the long piece on to the shorter pieces and trimmed 

 the edges, allowing for a hem lin. wide. I cut two tri- 

 angular pieces, 3ft. wide, 4ft. long, to a point. I had 

 these sewed to the straight side, the wide ends butting at 



the middle (A). I had pockets sewed on to the outer 

 corners of the wings at F. Strings on the straight edge 

 from E to C and E to B with loops for lodge stakes on the 

 half circle. The seams were sewed on a machine, double 

 stitched. The pockets on the wings are for the wing poles 

 to keep the wings in place and regulate the draft. 



Clothing for a winter's trip through the mountains is 

 one of the most difficult things to decide on, as it is very 

 important that one should have sufficient, and still not be 

 burdened with superfluous or useless garments. I used 

 next to my body a fine undershirt, then an antelope skin 

 —short sleeveless — shirt Indian dressed, a California 

 flannel shirt, a woolen overshirt, vest and buckskin 

 jumper; for my legs a pair of mission drawers, pantaloons 

 and canvas overalls; for my feet fine cotton socks, calf 

 boots and arctic overshoes, with canvas leggings tied on 

 with buckskin strings. I used a common white felt hat, 

 and for cold weather I had a jersey cloth hood and mask 

 to draw down over my face, with two silk handkerchiefs 

 to tie around my neck in windy weather, and smoked 

 spectacles to protect my eyes from snow blindness. I had 

 gloves and leather mittens for my hands, and I used long 

 snowshoes — "skeys" or Norwegian— made of red fir, 



J 



9ft. long, lin. thick, 4in. wide in the middle, tapering to 

 3£in. at the front, and 2£in. at the back end. Fourteen 

 inches of the front was thinned down toiin., steamed 

 and bent up so that the end was 8in. off the ground. The 

 tops of the shoes are beveled off, to allow the snow to slide 

 off readily. The shoes were saturated with melted 

 beeswax, candles, linseed oil of equal parts, with a little 

 rosin to harden the mixture; this preparation was put on 

 the shoes after first heating them before an open fire. 

 The bottoms were heated enough to scorch them a little. 

 After allowing them to cool, I put a coat of shellac on 

 the tops to keep melted snow from wetting the wood. 

 Measuring from the front end of the shoe back 4ft., I put 

 on a hard wood cross piece or cleat, 4in. long, fin. wide, 

 1-Jin. thick, thinned down to ^in. in the middle to allow 

 the foot to fit in well. The projections assist the foot in 

 guiding the shoe. Two inches in front of the cross piece, 

 two pieces of leather 4in. wide and 3in. long were well 

 fastened with screws to the side of the shoe in a groove 

 as deep as the leather was thick, so that nothing should 

 project beyond the side of the shoe. These pieces were 

 laced together to fit the foot. They came over the toe 

 and well back on the instep. The latter must not inter- 

 fere with the easy movement of the foot while walking. 

 Some prefer an inch strap, tying the foot to the shoe with 

 straps passing back of the foot and over the instep, cover- 

 ing the top of the shoe with tin to prevent the snow's 

 packing under the foot, and using no cross piece. One 

 cannot steer shoes rigged in this way as well as he can 

 those with the cross piece. I covered the top of my shoes 

 (that part under the foot) with part of a rubber bootleg, 

 and found it to work well. To assist one while walking 

 up hill, and steer with while sliding down, a long pole is 

 used. I used a 7ft. pine pole, which I used also to 

 measure the depth of snow, until the snow was too deep 

 for the pole to touch bottom. 



On Saturday, Feb. 12, we left Gardiner, Montana, for the 

 Mammoth Hot Springs, f our miles within the Park. Om 

 route was up the Gardiner River, which we found open, 

 owing to the great volumes of hot water running into it 

 from the Boiling River at the foot of the old hot spring 

 terraces, four miles above. 



The road follows along the river most of the way to 

 the Hot Springs, crossing it twice. Often we could see 

 trout in the clear water. I counted seventeen small ones 

 near one rock, at a point less than l£m. from Gardiner. 

 I saw no large fish. A little further on we crossed the 

 river to where the road runs under some cliffs. Here I 

 saw a band of six mountain sheep, feeding within ten 

 feet of the road on a hillside and above the roadway. 

 Seeing us, two of them walked up on the hill, a little 

 further to a point where they had a better view of us. 

 After satisfying their curiosity, they went on feeding, for 

 here there was little snow. They showed no fear what- 1 



ever; some of them only looked up once, but paid no at- 

 tention to us. Though we passed within 20yds. of them 

 they were as unconcerned as possible, pawing snow and 

 feeding as though there were no such thing as a rifle or 

 hunter in the world. The band consisted of four ewes 

 and two lambs. One of the lambs had patches of hair 

 off from its sides; this I attribute to a parasitical diseas^ 

 similar to the scab of domestic sheep; I have often noticea 

 that mountain sheep are afflicted with it in the spring. I 

 have found old rams dead that had very little hair on 

 them, the skin being hard, dry and cracked. I have 

 often noticed the same trouble with elk, especially bull 

 elk; the first one I ever killed was in a sorry plight, with 

 scarcely a hair on his sides, shoulders, or neck; the skin 

 looked like scales— all cracked and bleeding— he was 

 very poor, and unfit for any use except wolf bait. The 



other sheep in this band appeared in fair condition. The 

 band have been in the Gardiner canon all winter; they 

 are so tame that they will lie down within less than 20yds. 

 of passing teams. An old ram belonging to the band, but 

 not with it when I passed, once thought of disputing the 

 road with the Post Surgeon on his way to Gardiner; the 

 ram finally concluded to let his team go by, so he hopped 

 up on a rock beside the road, went up on the hill a little 

 way and lay down. 



I did not see any of the antelope on Mt. Evarts as we 

 were down in the canon. In the river I observed, besides 

 the fish, several kinds of ducks, the names of which I do 

 know. Water wrens [Cinclvs. — Ed.], queer little birds, 

 were dashing in and out of the water seeking their food; 

 they would sit on a rock, bob up and down a few times, 

 then with a squeak dash into the water and out of sight, 

 popping up in an unexpected place. Snowbirds, camp 

 or moose birds, Clark's crows, and several small birds 

 were also noted on our way up. The snow on the river 

 was about 2ft. deep. As we began to climb the old 

 terraces to the main Hot Springs proper, the snow deep- 

 ened very fast until in the vicinity of the hotels there 

 was on an average about 4ft. of settled snow, packed 

 quite hard by the wind and very much drifted. 



Striking across the flats, we stopped at the Cottage 

 Hotel. Here I learned that the mail carrier had not been 

 heard from for over two weeks, and fears of his having 

 lost his life were expressed. One of the teamsters whose 

 teams are snowed in at the Norris Hotel, Con Sheehan, 

 had come down for the mail and intended to start back 

 in the morning; so I was to have company part way up. 



I did not visit the active Hot Springs, as they are for 

 the most part snowed under. Only the hot water is ex- 

 posed. Soon after the water leaves the springs it cools 

 down and freezes, and the snow falls on the ice, hiding 

 anything worth seeing in the way of frost work. Then, 

 too, the coloring that adds so much to the beauty of the 

 formation and attracts so much attention, is very much 

 dimmed; it is not nearly so brilliant as in summer. 



Sunday morning I was up for an early start, but found 

 it snowing hard with a heavy wind from the south and 

 southwest, which I would have to face, and that, too, in 

 an open country. Con had started, but turned back, so 

 we put in Sunday visiting the people around the Springs. 

 One of the men who had packed for the Schwatka party 

 and, later, for Mr. Haynes, told me his experience on the 

 trip. The party were taken to Indian Creek with teams, 

 to a barn, where everything was left. The whole of the 

 next day was spent making less than a mile, where a 

 camp was made. The party rested up here, then started 

 for Norris, distance some 12 or 14 miles; some of the party 

 did not get in until very late. Almost all of their bag- 

 gage was left at the barn. At Norris Lieut. Schwatka, 

 Mr. Bracket* and the guide, Jack Barron ett, stopped. The 

 rest of the party went on to the Lower Basin, and most 

 of them t® the Upper Basin, returning to Norris the 

 same way they had come. Then all the party went from 

 there over to the Falls, 12 miles. At the Lower Basin, 

 Mr. Haynes, the photographer, left the party, and with 

 three men as packers, visited the Lower and Upper 

 Basins, Grand Canon and Falls, returning to the Mam- 

 moth Hot Spring via Mt. Washburne and Yancey's. In 

 going over Washburne, the party were lost three days 

 and were without blankets or provisions. 



I had been told of snow slides and dangerous places 

 in the Gibbon Canon, until I began to dread that part of 

 my trip, as I have had one snow slide catch me and carry 

 me part way down a mountain, besides having very nar- 

 rowly escaped three others; still I decided to make the 



