102 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Aug. 9, igo2. 
— ^ 
The Sea Ghost of the Catsfcills. 
r The sea ghost haunts the Catskills in the night 
L- When to the surging pines the forests hark 
\ And tides throb dimly in the pale moonlight 
Up from the valley, fathoms deep in dark. 
At morning on the hills the mists roll in — 
White waves of gossamer, light crests flung free — 
* Deep as death is and as the air is thin. 
Till all the world is in the phantom sea. 
On rock-bound tablets is the record writ: 
Once in the lowland was the ocean's bed, 
Rose these sheer mountain steeps to Hmit it 
1 With rugged shore lines in those jeons dead; 
And when the sea its mighty arm swept back 
Down through the Palisades from these far hills, 
Receding waters plowed the Hudson's track 
And left a silver trail of lakes and. kills. 
In what dark kloofs the mermaids c®mbed their locks 
Who knows, who plucks the pale green maidenhair? 
Their shells are fossils, bedded in the rocks, 
And speckled trout leap in the brooklet there. 
The laurel's rosy tips of light are born 
Where branched the coral slowly in the dark; 
In what far cavern Triton's wreathed horn 
Wound merrily, oh, ask the meadow larkl 
Before there rose the Indian camp-fires' smoke. 
Or HcHdrick Hudson brought his Dutchman crew ; 
Before Pan played for fauns and forest folk, 
Lo, Pagan Neptune and his nereids, too. 
Danced in these spectxe waves that billow white 
Up to the mountains' topmost purple coast — 
Oh, watch and you shall see, by day or night, 
Shaped in the Catskill mists, the pale sea ghost ! 
I" > Mary Worswick. 
Yellowstone Park from a Car 
Window. 
In Two Parts— Part If. 
The animals in the Park show unmistakeably that they 
know you dare not shoot, and seem to have very little 
fear of tourists. The chipmunks do condescend to run 
away, but not until the stage is close upon them, and then 
with much vituperation and flirting of tails. There seem 
to be two kinds, one slightly larger than the other, and 
these likewise appear to be of several ages, for one speci- 
men we saw madly carreering along the road did not seem 
much larger than a walnut plus a tail. 
Passing the toe of an old moraine, I caught sight of an 
animal about the size of a rat, which ran toward us f9r 
some distance and then sat up like a prairie dog and said 
"E e" at us, with a riote like an old-fashioned penny 
trumpet. The driver said it was a young hare, but ad- 
mitted that he had never seen the animal before. As I 
pointed out that its ears were hardly larger than those of 
a rat, he abandoned that idea. 
After consulting the Kid's Natural History, I am of the 
opinion that it is a kind of m&rmot which frequents 
stony ground. That animal has a short tail, and this we 
saw seemed to have no more tail than a guinea pig, but 
distance may have caused us to miss the tail. The other 
parts of the description seemed to fit all right. We found 
none of them in the adjoining green spots, but when we 
came to another moraine, there were the "stone marmots" 
again. [No doubt a pika or little chief hare {Lagomys).] 
We arrived in time for lunch at a station on the shore 
of the lake, where we were regaled not too sumptously in 
tents of various sizes and purposes. It was here after 
lunch that some of the party boarded a small steamer _ to 
make an excursion on the lake. This is a sort of side 
show, of which perhaps the less said the better. 
The principal attractions here seem to be a beehive- 
shaped cone rising a couple of feet above the water of the 
lake, and full nearly to the brim of its orifice with boiling 
water. It is possible if you are a good fisherman, and the 
fish are blind, for you to stand on this cone and catch a 
fish from the lake, and without removing him from the 
hook or removing yourself from your stand, to cook him 
in the water at your feet. The dther attraction is "pamt 
pots," which are in great number hereabouts, and con- 
sist of pools of from five to twenty feet in diameter, filled 
to within one or two feet of the brim with what looks 
more like slowly boiling paint than anything else. Bubbles 
eight to ten inches in diameter grow on the surface, bjurst, 
emit a puff of steam and subside, while others imme- 
diately take their places. They are of course similar to 
the one we saw at the Fountain Hotel, but they are of 
different colors, some pots being pink, while others are 
m.ore of a lead color, but all are hot and to two of them 
a melancholy interest attaches. They were, I should 
judge, about six or eight feet in diameter, and separated 
by a narrow path, rendered slippery by steam, and sloping 
on both sides to the pots. Two ladies, mother and daugh- 
ter, attempted to pass along this division between the 
pots and the elder woman slipped and fell into the boilmg 
mud. The younger clutched her clothing in an attempt 
to save her or drag her out, and the clothing giving 
way, she fell backward into the other pot. Both were 
got out as soon as possible, but not until the mother had 
been fatally injured and the daughter very seriously. I 
fear that greater precautious will have to be taken as the 
Park comes to be more generally visited, for it is full of 
dangers to the heedless and unwary. There was in this 
instSnee no necessity for going between the pots; the path 
has been blocked since the accident, yet as good a vew 
be obtained without any risk at all. 
From this station the road lay for most of the distance 
either through the woods or along the shores of the lake, 
of which we had most gratifying views. It is incon- 
testably a very beautiful lake, irregular in form and 
rimmed around with mountains. In fact it is so irregular 
in form that one cannot see more than half of it at once. 
It is almost as long and wide as Lake Tahoe, but with a 
much smaller area, and there are several islands break- 
ing the surface, an advantage not possessed by Tahoe. 
In a short time it came on to rain with thunder and 
lightning, but we put off having the side curtains down, 
and very soon the shower passed away without doing us 
any damage. A doe and a young buck with antlers "in 
the velvet" crossed the road in front of the stage and 
stopped to gaze as we rode by. Misery and Mrs. *** 
wanted pictures of the buck, but he was too far off and 
too much in the shade to make that feasible, though not 
too far for us to see his big eyes with their expression of 
mild wonder. 
On the other hand, when we left the wood and came out 
on the shore of the lakcj we saw at close quarters several 
magnificent white pelicans. Pelicans and deer in such 
close proximity were something we had not expected to 
see; and there were seagulls also, almost two thousand 
miles from the nearest salt water. 
Our driver had by this time become quite one of the 
family, and sang the most melancholy and moral songs 
in a "south-of-Market-street" voice — tenor, I believe. 
Then he spouted lurid passages from a "Morosco" drama 
in broken French-English, and informed us that he was 
an actor of some note, who when he was not driving the 
Yellowstone stage, trod the boards of that at Salt Lake 
and other centers of culture, in a number of dramas of 
v/liich we had never heard even the names. He was an 
extremely patriotic American, because his father being 
English and his mother French, he naturally had to be 
something different from either. His songs were "gems," 
and I sometimes catch myself whistling the air of one of 
the longest and most lugubrious of them all. 
He pointed out to us from a turn in the road, one of 
the best natural profiles I have ever seen. It was in the- 
outline of the distant mountains, and was a most perfect 
and majestic profile of a sleeping giant. 
Though this afternoon's drive was singularly devoid of 
discomfort or startling incident, the time passed very 
pleasantly away. In fact, it was something of a relief to 
have no wonders to be astonished at, and only beauties of 
nature to admire. 
At dinner we all came together and had a jolly time 
comparing notes, though the others declined to believe 
that we had seen any deer with horns "in the velvet." 
After dinner we sat before a big fireplace, with a roaring 
fire of logs, smoking and talking until it was time for 
bed; and I was up betimes in the morning to get a view 
of the lake. 
It was a beautiful morning, and had beside all the 
charm of novelty. I had not, of course, so far jeo- 
pardized my reputation as to see the sun rise, but it was 
still so early in the day, that I felt quite a virtuous glow 
as I gazed at him. 
There was a boat house and it was full of boats, but 
they were not the boats of Bow River, and the oars were 
not "spooris" from Winnepeg; far from it, they were 
more like clubs from the wood pile, I think the man 
who kept the boat house built the boats and made the 
oars himself, and this and a lack of time determined me 
to forego a row on the lake. There were more fishing 
poles in racks aroimd the room than I ever saw in one 
place in my life, for this is a great place for fish. Two 
of the members of the other party had a good deal to say 
ai- times about fishing, but the occasion never seemed 
exactly ripe and the fishing was for some reason always 
postponed for the morrow — always manyana. Leaving the 
Lake Hotel, the first "wonder" that we came to after a 
delightful drive through the Avoods over a smooth road 
was the "Mud Geyser." Now the Mud Geyser did really 
seem to satisfy the aesthetic longing. It was about the 
most infernal thing I ever saw. On the side of a steep 
mountain (a favorite location of geysers) was a hole about 
sixty feet in diameter and filled to within about ten feet 
of the lower side with water the color of lead. From 
it rose a cloud of steam so charged with earthy matter, for 
the very good reason I am going to state, that it too was 
colored like the water. The water itself was a seething 
mass of tumult, for from three openings in the side of 
the mountain three enormous jets of boiling spray were 
hurled at intervals of a few seconds each to the center of 
the pool, and as they gushed in rotation the water was 
never quiet for an instant, nor did the horrid grunting 
of these infernal pumps ever cease. The air was heavy 
with the clav-laden steam, and wherever it rested, on 
cameras, clothes or hat, it left its deposit of tiny specks. 
The Fountain was beautiful, and Old Faithful, both beau- 
tiful and grand, and the geysers big and little had each 
some claim to our attention and admiration; but the Mud 
Geyser was the most devilish nightmare of a thing I ever 
met in nature. What I can't understand is why some- 
body hasn't tumbled into it; I never saw a better chance. 
It actually seems as though it were expected that the 
Park would be visited only by people of sense; people 
with their eyes about them and accustomed to taking care 
of themselves. This is all very well, but it is possible to 
trust too much to the common sense even of the native, 
and beside the native there is the foreign contingent, 
which is accustomed to being taken care of. I say again 
I don't see why there are not more casualties. 
Leaving the mud devil to its own devices, we followed 
a trail through some trees and came to another hole 
much smaller, where a single jet a couple of feet m 
diameter was thrown out into a similar pool at mtervals of 
half a minute or so. I should judge that the water m 
this pool flowed back into the opening in the side, tem- 
porarily checking the escape of the steam, which presently 
gathering force, hurls the water_ out again mto the pool 
in a never-ending succession of jets. 
Regaining our "coach," we drove on, and after an in- 
terval of minutes, or hours, or something, came to the 
Sulphur Mountain, a hill of yellowish deposit on the 
mountain side, with a geyser boiling vigorously and throw- 
ing up clouds of the usual highly scented steam: The 
ground in the vicinity of the geyser is evidently hollow, 
and the team stopped some distance away, our footfalls 
sounding rather too sonorous for comfort as we ap- 
proached it. The driver said somebody would go through 
the crust there some day, and we were very much in- 
clined to agree with him ; but it seemed to me that there 
were plenty more places of the same kind that he had not 
said anything about. For my part, I am afraid the bot- 
tom will drop out of the whole thing eventually, but I 
guess not in our time. 
Our next stop was at the Canon. This is one of the 
most curious freaks of nature in the world, and the road 
lies so near it that there are not only many fine views 
of it, but many ,_opportunities to leave the coach and take 
one's stand on jutting points, like pulpits in a cathedral, 
where views such as no other section of the world can 
show are spread before and around one. One of the most 
striking features, the one which distinguishes it from 
almost everything else, is the wealth and variety of 
color. Nowhere in the world, save in the woods in 
autumn, can one see such gorgeous extravagance of color. 
Reds and yellows predominate, but most of the colors of 
the painter's palette are there. The Cafion lacks the 
massive and dignified grandeur of Yosemite, but its friable 
material on the other hand, has allowed the elements to 
sculpture at their will their most eccentric fancies. Pin- 
nacle succeeds pinnacle in endless recession, all brilliant 
in the sunshine with the hues of the rainbow. Closer ex- 
amination reveals a powdery waterworn surface which 
looks as though it would change its form with every 
shower — ^but why look closer? It is a picture which you 
need not approach too near. 
The sides of the Canon, which is something over a 
thousand feet deep, slope so rapidly as' to make a de- 
scent to the stream at the bottom a matter of the greatest 
difficulty, probably an impossibility to the ordinary per- 
son. Slopes so smooth and unbroken hardly exist except 
in snow. 
Our first real acquaintance with the Caiion was at a 
point where a series of steps and ladders led down to the 
Upper Yellowstone Fall. This is a fine fall of water, 
flowing in full volume over the edge of a cliff, and falling 
a hundred and nine feet. Not quite equal to Mont- 
morencie in height, nor quite so wide, but a very beauti-" 
ful fall. There are solid rocks and tall trees all about, for 
we are not yet really in the Caapn, and we stand and 
watch the rusliing, tumbling waters until we are reminded 
that there are many other things to see, and that it will 
bt a very good time to see them after lunch. 
The Canon as we take our seats in the coach shows by 
glimpses through the trees, and its varied coloring is 
heightened by the contrast with the dark green in the 
foreground, and we decide that it is not far from the 
greatest thing we have ever seen. Mrs. *** so far wavers 
in her allegience to Yosemite that she faintly admits that 
the Caiion is something finer than she has ever seen; but 
I in my obstinacy maintain that there is nothing on earth 
quite equal to Y'osemite, though visions of Niagara and 
Banff both rise up to ask me if I am quite sure. 
After lunch our wagon appeared again and took us for 
quite a drive along the brink of the Caiion, giving tis 
ample opportunity to see it from every vantage point, and 
what is not always the case, time to photograph to our 
heart's content, with the result, I regret to say, that we 
got nothing that bore the faintest resemblance to the 
scene, the colors in the rocks being almost without ex- 
ception non-actinic. The pictures hadn't even the merit 
of recalling anything we had seen. 
As I am sometimes charged with an inclination to 
"kick," I would like at this point to record my satisfac- 
tion with the manner in which we were carried through 
the Park on this journey, and the efforts which were made 
by the stage company to give us a sight of everything 
possible under the circumstances. 
The view up the Canon was indescribable, for this gorge 
is most peculiar in its formation. The^ sides rising in 
steep slopes are cut into perpendicular ridges, and these 
again are worn by the elements into fantastic pinnacles 
which appear in series one behind the other, like the wing 
scenes in a theater, giving an amazing succession of varied 
forms, the effect being heightened to a marvelous degree 
by the lavish display of color. The scene is strikingly 
different from the ordinary, and excites_ the unbounded 
wonder and admiration of the average sightseer. While 
the Canon as a whole appeared to me to lack something 
of perfection, there were points of view and special bits 
that called for nothing less than thorough admiration. 
One promontory in particular, which stood out from the 
side of the Caiion, like a gigantic pulpit of red stone, was 
large enough to hold a full convocation of preachers and 
gave a magnificent view of the Canon both up and down, 
with the Lower Yellowstone Falls 308 feet high to hold 
the center of the stage. 
At one point from the road was visible what one en- 
thusiast christened the "Gate of Paradise." A sheer de- 
scent of ocherous yellow, too smooth for even a foothold, 
was terminated at the bottom by a transverse wall ap- 
proximately a hundred feet high, broken by an opening op- 
posite us which gave a view of the rushing river at the 
bottom of the Canon, aqua marine and foamy white. The 
background of parti-colored cliffs rose towering to the 
skyline, terminating in a fringe of pines and cedars. This 
slope was bounded on either side by walls at right angles 
to the river, worn into varied outline and interspersed 
with occasional trees ; and wherever the rock was visible 
it was of a brilliant reddish hue shaded with browns and 
darker red. Some of the rocks were even blue. 
Perched on various pinnacles, but several hundred feet 
below where we stood, were the nests of eagles with the 
young ones clamoring for food as is their wont, and the 
old birds swinging in large circles far below us, few of 
them flying as high as our level. Looking down on 
eagles is a novel experience to most people. 
We had spent a couple of hours very pleasantly driving 
along the brink of the Canon, getting out at intervals to 
reach the various points from which the best views were 
to be obtained; when the driver drew up at the junction 
of two roads, telling us that we were close to the hotel 
and could either go back with him, or take a trail a little 
further down the road, and by its means reach the brink 
of the Lower, or Great Falls. We didn't find the right 
trail, of course, but all got safely at last to the railed 
platform at the edge of the fall. 
The Great Fall pours over the brink in a solid sheet, 
filling the channel of the river completely, but just as it 
passes over the ledge it arranges itself in seven or eight 
flutings of different colors. One near the center, owing to 
^ slight projection m the rock over which it passes, was 
