508 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[June 16, 1894. 



"Forest and Stream's" Yellowstone 

 Park Game Exploration. 



Chicago, May 30.— In the first article of this series I 

 made the statement that no one except Mr. Hofer had ever 

 made the winter trip through the- Park and written a 

 newspaper account of it. Mr. F. Jay Haynes, the well- 

 known St. Paul photographer, who has long been official 

 artist for the Northern Pacific Road, and who has done so 

 much to set forth the beauties of the Park in a pictorial 

 way, calls my attention to the fact that the story of his 

 winter trip, mentioned in my first article, was written by 

 himself and printed in a Chicago paper, Harper's Weekly 

 also running full illustrations of it. This I did not know. 

 Mr. Haynes adds that he took with him four men of the 

 unfortunate Schwatka party, and made the circuit of the 

 Park, regardless of .trails, and passing over Mount Wash- 

 burn, as I stated. It was on Mount Washburn that this 

 party were caught in a storm and nearly lost their lives. 

 On that trip Mr. Haynes did not try for any game 

 pictures, but this winter, as I stated last week, he went 

 into the Park again after game pictures, and I hope to 

 show the readers of Forest and Stream some of the beau- 

 tiful results of his skillful camera later on in this story, 

 Mr. Haynes himself being pleased exceedingly with the 

 results in this magnificent and novel field of winter pho- 

 tography—into which I believe the Forest and Stream 

 cameras were the only other ones ever to go. We met the 

 Haynes party at the Canon very pleasantly as I shall later 

 mention. 



Short-Tailed Coats Better. 

 The Sjhwatka expedition, as is well known, was sent 

 out by the New York World, and it made a magnificent 

 and elaborate failure. SchwatKa had along enough bag- 

 gage to supply an army. He had long-tailed reindeer 

 coats, plenty of furs, sledges, etc., and in short was 

 equipped for an Arctic trip. Unfortunately one cannot 

 sit in a sledge and be hauled by dog team through the 

 Park, because the snow is too soft and it snows too much 

 and too often there, and the hills are too high and steep. 

 The only way to go is by one's own muscle. Schwatka 

 got his big party and all his lumber into the Park just 20 

 miles, and then he found he had enough of it, and so 

 marched down the hill again. The Forest and Stream 

 outfit, the first and only staff party ever to go through the 

 Park in winter, did not w^ear long- tailed reindeer coats. 

 They only wore short-tailed canvas jumpers, but they got 

 there just the same. 



The Introduction to Ski-Going. 



One thing is certain; at the time of which I was writ- 

 ing last week I had never been through the Park in my 

 life. Another thing is certain, and that is that I had 

 never been on skis- in my life. Therefore two startling 

 experiences in my life remained ahead of me. 



Billy took me out where the snow was about lift, deep 

 and introduced me to a pair of long, low, rakish, piratical- 

 looking things, with a good deal of overhang forward, 

 and — as I learned later — without any centerboard. keel or 

 moral principles anywhere in their composition. You 

 can talk about a vessel being a "thing of life," and "in- 

 stinct with soul," and all that sort of thing, but she isn't 

 in it with the lowly ski, not for a minute. A pair of skis 

 make about the liveliest way of locomotion, if you give 

 them a chance, of anything on earth, and if you don't 

 think they are alive and full of soul, you just try them 

 and see. They've got a howling, malignant devil in every 

 inch of their slippery surface, and the combination will 

 give the most blase and motionless man on earth a thrill 

 a minute for a good many minutes. You don't want to 

 go in for the sport of ski-running, not on a hill, anyhow, 

 unless you want to be carried away with it. 



Billy started me in on a hill, and I was quite carried 

 away. They dug me out of the snow, somewhere down 

 along the hill, I don't remember just where, and we 

 started back up again, to do it some more. It was then I 

 discovered that a ski is like a poor rule, because it won't 

 work both ways. My skis had been bright and cheerful 

 when it was suggested that we go down hill, but when 

 we talked about going up hill they became ugly and 

 rebellious. They would slip backward down hill, but 

 wouldn't go up. I began to reflect then that I had 200 

 miles ahead of me, every inch of it up hill according to 

 accounts, and I was thoughtful. 



"Slap your shoe down hard on the snow," said Billy, 

 "an i take up all the weight you can with your pole. 

 Lean forward, and don't lift your heel." 



Billy is one of the best snowshoers in the mountains, 

 having learned the art while carrying mail for years 

 among the mining camps of Colorado. Moreover, Billy 

 is a philospher, and disposed to find out the theory of 

 things. Moreover again, he is not disposed to excessive 

 and untimely mirth on serious occasions like this. So, 

 watching Billy, and trying to get close enough to smash 

 him one with the pole if he got too gay, I found I could 

 get up the hill a little by using industry and economy. 

 Pretty soon we came to a steep pitch, which even Billy 

 could not walk up. 



"Here we have to 'corduroy,'" said he. "You turn 

 your shoes at right angles to the trail, this way, instead 

 of straight along the way you want to go. That keeps 

 you from slipping down hill. Now you side-step up the 

 hill, lifting the shoe clear from the snow each time. You 

 go right on up sideways, this way, one foot after the 

 another, getting up only a foot or so at a step. Keep 

 your shoes at an angle up the hill, just all the angle they 

 will Btand till they begin to slide back down hill, and 

 keep on side-stepping up the hill, on the angle, this way, 

 till you get to where the natural bite of the shoe on the 

 tnow will allow you to go straight ahead again. That's 

 'corduroying.' Some folks use clogs, which they buckle 

 around their shoes. With a clog, you slap your foot down 

 and go straight ahead. You can tie a knotted piece of 

 gunny sack under the shoe and get the same result. It's 

 a nuisance, though, to be stopping putting such things on 

 and off all the time, at every little hill. You wilffiud 

 that the best ski runners don't use any clogs, but depend 



out breaking the hull till the other foot has been shoved 

 forward. But any fellow has to corduroy sometimes, and 

 his average in speed per hour depends on his ability to do 

 it fast, without slipping, and without losing anything out 

 of his uphill angle. You want to keep your shoes at just 

 all the uphill angle they'll stand, and you want to side- 

 step as high up hill as you can each time, and you don t 

 want to lose any time slipping back, or plunging, or cross- 

 ing your shoes, or trying to recover yourself. Just take 

 it easy and regular. Time in snowshoeing is made by 

 keeping at it steadily, not stopping and not taking 

 spurts." 



All this was plain enough, and I got up the hill. I 

 found, however, that the awkwardness of using the un- 

 skilled muscles required in the work, brought on a profuse 

 perspiration, though it was a cold winter day. It was at 



15. HOUGH IN A HEAP. 



the top of this hill that I found out I wasn't going to be 

 able to wear my nice new fireman's shirt, because it was 

 too warm. 



"You'll find muscles in you you never dreamed of," said 

 Billy, "and you'll find you don't need much clothing while 

 you're on the trail." 



Army Discipline. 



Over the hill, I became exalted in spirit, for I had dis- 

 covered that the way to do was not to lift the whole 10ft. 

 of shoe off the snow, but to slide it along on the snow, 

 letting it carry its own weight, and dragging it forward 

 by the toe strap. I was going at a great gait, like a boy 

 with a new pair of galluses, right along in front of D com- 

 pany barracks, and rather glad a lot of blue-coated gladi- 

 ators were out watching the tenderfoot learn to ski-go, 

 when all a 1 ; once I learned something more. I got my feet 

 crossed, somehow, and right at the critical moment I went 

 end over end in the snow, with the skis fairly braided 

 around my neck in the most extraordinary and inex- 

 plicable fashion in the world. Tne skis got a.vay the best 

 of that fall. D company laughed long and hearty, asone 

 man. A company always does that way, I suppose, owing 

 to the army discipline, but I felt like trying to lick D 

 company, while Bdly was trying to untackle and unbraid 

 me and get me dug out again. 



It would seem easy to get up after falling in the snow, 

 but let one try this in deep, soft snow, and he will find 

 that his hand and arm sink deep down, but afford him no 



IN" FULL STK1DE— A tiOOl) SKI STEP. 



support when he tries to raise himself. He can get no 

 bearing until he gets above his skis, which do not sink in 

 the snow. He must therefore get his skis under him, 

 somehow. That somehow is best understood after a 

 wrestle or two in trying to get one's feet untangled and 

 located once more intelligibly. Getting up from a fall in 

 soft snow or a steep side hill is a very delicate operation. 



National Pork. 

 Billy and I made our way up the mountain side where 

 lies that marvelous geyser formation known as the Miner 

 Terrace. Earth has no mammoth hot spring to compare 

 with this one, whose giant stairway now lay before us, 

 and the year holds no time like that of midwinter to see 

 it at its best. The graded pools rose one above another 

 like jewels on a cloth of white. The snow, yards deep, 

 made a setting for each pool. Out of the pools the water 



on 'corduroying' up the steep placts. Some fellows can go made a setting f or each pool. Out of the pools the water 

 straight up steep hills, without 'corduroying,' where other ftpaJ&ledj boiling hot, cut through the snow, melted 

 fellows can't. It's a good deal in the way the shoe is tiie ice ' Di< * defiance to winter. Evidently, nature's 



. good deal in the way the shoe is 

 planted down on the snow, and left clinging there with- 



* Pronounced shee. 



— T - " J * . . ........ ij.iutiJWjr, ULOiLUltJ O 



plans beneath the surface of the earth were at variance 

 with those about it. The paradox was startling. Billy 

 and I crawled on our skis close along the edge of the 



giant pools, crossed some of the rocks on foot where it 

 was too hot for the snow to lie, and at length, bracing 

 ourselves from slipping into the hot bath, we stood over 

 10ft. of snow on a rock which overlooked the ultimate 

 pool, whose blue, scalding flood pours up eternally 

 through an unfathomable crevice in the mountain side. 

 Around us swept the imcomparable panorama of the 

 snow-clad hills. Surelv the scene was an impressive one 

 and one such as should win forgiveness for a brief feeling 

 of emotion and of sentiment. 



I know a fellow oughtn't to "spill over," and oughtn't 

 to "make a scene," because it isn't good form. Yet I hope 

 I should be forgiven for the thought which came to me as 

 I gazed into that ceaseless fountain of red hot water 

 which flows forever, day and night, summer and winter. 

 What a place for Mr. Armour! What a place for scalding 

 hogs! 



I commend this thought to those who wish to cut apart 

 the Park, who wish to put railroads through it, who wish 

 to ruin and make common its wonders. It has been sug- 

 gested that a railroad through the Park would be a useful 

 thing to some few men who wish to carry freight. I be- 

 lieve it has not yet been brought to their minds that the 

 hot springs might be made useful in scalding hogs. By 

 all means let us do away with horses and vehicles in the 

 Park. Let us make the trip in two days. Let us have an 

 electrical railroad, and a grand national pork concern, 

 thus utilizing the hot water nature has evidently pro- 

 vided with the design of scalding hogs. Niagara is 

 harnessed. Why not tne Park? National Pork ! There 

 is a music in the sound, a similitude in the form, and a 

 close fit in the thought behind the form. It will do for a 

 label. By all means let us have in the railroads at once. 

 And over the gate which lets them in let us have the 

 fitting announcement and the fitting epitaph for the 

 desecrated wonderland— National Pork ! Would Congress 

 then know the difference in the sign, and would it then 

 realize what the design of this last instance of national 

 porkism had been from first to last? 



Billy Has Some Fun. 

 "Come," said Billy, "and I will have some fun with 

 you." 



He did, he did, and let no man say to the contrary. 

 He took me through the heavy pines up to the top of a 

 steep rise above the terrace, and politely requested me to 

 follow my leader, saying which, he let go and slid off 

 down the hill like a bird, calling back to me to "keep my 

 feet together and put on brakes with the pule." This I 

 did as nearly as I could, and in a moment, with an ease 

 and precision which pleased us both, I also was at the 

 foot of the hill, but upside down, with the skis on top. 



"We'll try another one," said Billy, who wasn't near as 

 much discouraged as I was. "There's a pretty swift 

 little pitch over here a way, and you can ride your pole 

 down there." 



"Eiding the pole" I learned to be sitting astride of it, 

 with the rear end of the pole dropping deep in the snow 

 behind and thus serving as a brake. 1 was rejoiced to see 

 by this means I could regulate the speed a little bit, so 

 that I didn't feel so much as if I was going to get off the 

 earth. Billy was pleased to be flattering when he saw 

 that I was on top oi the skis at the bottom of the hill, in- 1 

 stead of their being on top of me. 



"Now we'll take one steeper yet," said he. "I'll show 1 

 you the way to do where it's too steep to stand up. Come 

 ahead." 



Billy stopped at the head of a sharp little pitch, which i 

 was so steep that we couldn't see to the bottom of it. All I 

 we could see was a rounded curve of white dropping J 

 down, apparently off into the blue substance which the | 

 poets call Esther. Here Billy unbuckled the straps of his i 

 shoes, took the shoes off, put them together, pointed them • 

 down hill, and sat down on the middle of the two, on top i 

 of the shoe-straps. Then he gave a push or so with his ( 

 hands, started, gathered speed, and whish! he was over \ 

 into the unknown, apparently sliding on the seat of his 

 overalls. 



As I knew of no way of getting out of there except by 

 doing the way Billy did, I also took off my shoes and sat 

 down on them, putting them carefully in the tracks left 

 by Billy's. I was looking thoughtfully at the carved 

 dragon heads on the ends of my skis, and wondering how 

 far off the end of that hill was, when all at once the' 

 malignant creatures took a slip and a start and away I 

 went. There was an astonishing slipping past of trees 

 stuck on a broad ribbon of snow, then a feeling of keen 

 exhilaration at the smooth, even flight through the air; 

 then came a second of still more winged flight, clear out 

 into the air, and a smother of something white and soft. 

 The dragon-headed skis and the eagle-eyed newspaper 

 man had gone clear over a 30ft. bank of snow, and 

 buried themselves in the soft drift at its base. I had 

 taken my first s&i-jump, and taken it sitting down, at the 

 cake-off and the landing. 



"It was steeper than I thought," said Billy, when ha 

 could undouble himself from laughing, "and the fact is, I 

 did just what you did. I had to hurry to get out of the 

 drift, or you'd have lit right on top of me. 



"Now you've seen the gaits," continued he, "and you 

 see how it's done. The rest you'll have to learn from 

 practice. We'll go home now, for yOu don't want to get 

 too tired at first." 



The next day, thanks to a muscular system already in 

 pretty fair order from the training I had gone into pre- 

 paratory for the trip, I was not so very stiff, though I 

 found the new muscles Billy had prophesied, more espec- 

 ially some north of my knees. The dreadful mal de raquetie 

 of which I had read in books, I never felt at all. That 

 day we took a rather slow run down the hill to the Boiling! 

 River a mile or so, the snow being sticky. This concluded 

 my entire experience on the skis before we started on our 

 journey, less than half a day in all. I remember that I 

 thought it a great feat to get down the Boiling River hill. 1 . 

 When I saw the same hill, on coming out of the Park after 

 the trip, it seemed a very innocent and tame affair, 



Making: up the Packs for the Start. 



Wednesday morning, that of our start, dawned bright 

 and fair enough. The two privates, Larsen and Holte,. 

 detailed by Capt. Anderson to accompany us, reported in' 

 due season, and Billy, as chief pack master, was early busy 

 in arranging the packs we were to carry. Larsen and 

 Holte took absolutely no blankets, saying they would rather 

 not carry them. Billy took only one blanket, and gener- 

 ously insi3ted on my taking his light sleeping bag, made of 

 wildcat skins, and weighing only about 61bs. We had alsj 



