March 7, 1908.] 
FOREST AND STREAM 
3 6 9 
tarpaulin floor and plenty of robes and blankets 
to keep warm. A well designed stove, suitable 
for packing, kept us warm and comfortable. We 
traveled any clear day, when the previous night’s 
minimum temperature was not more than 20 
degrees below zero. During the middle of the 
day the sun had a powerful effect in modifying 
the cold. In traveling, of course, we had suit¬ 
able wrappings for body, feet, hands and face. 
None of 11s ever suffered materially from cold. 
From the Crow Agency, our route was up the 
Yellowstone River, crossing it three times on the 
ice; thence passing over the Bridger Mountains 
by the Bozeman pass, reaching our destination 
at Bozeman on Dec. 12, 1880. 
In the season of 1880, an apointment was made 
with Mr. John R. Lionberger, a kinsman and 
distinguished banker of St. Louis, to meet me 
at the Mammoth Hot Springs, and together 
we were to do this park. This arrangement was 
carried out, he traveling with my outfit as far 
as the outlet of the Yellowstone Lake into 
the river of that name. Here he was joined by 
his son, Isaac R. Lionberger, then called Ike, 
with a pack outfit accompanied by three friends, 
two from the vicinity of the latter city and one, 
a college mate, from North Carolina. Ike Lion¬ 
berger and the two youngsters, whose names 
have escaped me, were partners in a cattle ranch 
and a herd of cattle located on the eastern slope 
of the Crazy Woman Mountains of Montana. 
They had journeyed from their ranch with a pack 
outfit to meet the elder Lionberger, and after 
doing the park, were to accompany him to the 
railroad on the west. 
Taking a retrospect: As early in the spring 
as the snows would allow. T. Elwood Hofer 
(affectionately called “Billy” Hofer by his 
friends) and his cousin of the same name, 
fought their way through the snows and lo¬ 
cated near our present camp, determined to 
build a sailboat of size adequate for the ac¬ 
commodation of the large influx of visitors, ex¬ 
pected to visit the park that summer. They 
packed in all the tools necessary for such work, 
including a whip-saw. They had .gone into the 
timber, cut down trees, sawed them into suitable 
lengths, “roped” them by the horn of the 
saddle to their scaffold, “whip-sawed” them into 
suitable lumber for a sailboat from 30 to 35 feet 
in length. This job had been done before our 
arrival, the sailboat being then ready for busi¬ 
ness. This was a notable achievement, but not 
equal to a feat performed by this same “Billy” 
Hofer a few years after. He is entitled to the 
honor and distinction of being the first person 
to make the rounds of the park in the depth of 
winter, alone and carrying on his back his 
bedding, grub, tent and whatever was neces¬ 
sary for such a trip. Of course it had to be 
done on snowshoes. He made this trip alone, 
starting from the Mammoth Hot Springs, by 
the two Geyser basins and thence down by the 
Great Falls and Tower Falls. This was reported 
in Forest and Stream of that date. 
As I had already visited, that year, the Upper 
and Lower Geyser basins, toward which Mr. 
Lionberger was “headed.” he determined to 
travel the balance of the route by his own out¬ 
fit, do these wonders and thence go westerly to 
the railroad and home. This would give me 
more time for my contemplated trip over those 
westerly mountains and thence down the North 
Fork of the Stinking River and so around the 
foothills of the Absoraka Range to Bozeman, 
Montana. 
From the outlet of the Yellowstone Lake, an 
arm of the lake extends in a westerly direction 
for about twenty miles. At that time the main 
traveled trail to the Upper Geyser basin was 
on its northern border, meandering through 
dense pine timber, very rough, and 'extending 
for a distance of several miles. From the end 
of this arm, the trail crossed the Continental 
Divide to the Shoshone Lake, on its western 
slope and thence crossed back over that divide 
to the head of the Fire Hole and the Upper 
Geyser basin. 
As a means of relieving these friends of a 
long and laborious tramp through the pine 
timber, the sailboat was engaged and the party 
were invited to allow me to give them a lift to 
the point where the trail leaves the lake. The 
pack outfit could go by the trail and meet them 
at that point. 
The youngsters of the party, who had been 
traveling trails on horseback for about a week, 
were rather captivated with the proposition. 
Mr. Lionberger, the elder, who was naturally 
more conservative, and cautious, rather de¬ 
murred. However, on talking it over, he pro¬ 
posed he would go with the packs along the 
lake border and await our arrival at the point 
above designated. With our preconceived idea 
of the smooth sailing we would have, we felt 
that he would not be delayed very long. 
So we parted. Our party was soon, comfort¬ 
ably stowed away in the boat, eight souls, all 
told. The boat was not at all overloaded. Sail 
was hoisted and we were soon skipping along 
at a comfortable gait. All the shotguns of the 
party were aboard in anticipation of killing a 
few ducks, and perhaps swans. For a short 
time good sport was had by the boys and soon 
enough fat ducks had been killed and recovered 
for a good and comforting meal for the 
party. 
Up to this time all were in excellent spirits. 
When one-third of our distance had been passed 
the wind fell flat, one of those calms before the 
storm—as it turned out—of which we read. This 
calm continued so long that the skipper brought 
out two oars provided for such contingencies, and 
willing, though unskilled, hands were soon at 
work. As one set became tired, another took 
their places, and as this work continued, there 
was a corresponding fall in the spirits of the 
party. Doubts as to the time of our arrival at 
our destination began to loom up. About the 
time all hands had become tired out, a slight 
and favorable breeze sprang up, becoming 
brisker and brisker and we were again- sailing 
along at a comfortable gait, the spirits of the 
party rising with the wind. The oars were 
stowed away, and every one was looking for¬ 
ward to a quick run to our destination. 
About this time an angry -looking, threaten¬ 
ing cloud, just peeping over the Continental 
Divide, was observed in the northwest. The 
wind soon became brisker and stronger, and 
waves began to splash up against the sides of 
the craft. To reach our destination, it became 
necessary for the skipper to sail close to the 
wind. Could he hold that course for twenty 
minutes longer, we would be so close to shore 
as to be in smooth water. We were now in 
the deepest part of the Thumb, measured by 
Prof. Hayden as about 100 feet; but the wind 
was increasing in violence, the waves rising and 
threatening to swamp the boat. Bailing became 
imperative. 
Then the worst of the storm burst upon us, 
with the fiercest of winds and a downpour of 
blinding rain. The gaff could not stand the 
strain and snapped. The sail came tumbling 
down over our heads, and the boat soon drifted 
into the trough of the waves, which threatened 
to engulf the craft. Skipper Hofer kept his 
head admirably and by vigorous work with the 
steering oar, he placed the craft out of the 
trough and across the waves, the crew in the 
meantime taking care of the flapping sail as 
best they could. Had our craft been swamped 
in that storm with waves running high, with 
temperature of the water 40 to 45 degrees F. 
and at least two miles from shore, not a soul 
of that party would have reached land, unless 
perhaps the dog. It is questionable whether he 
would have left his master. 
With such a wind, no other sail than our 
bodies was needed, and the boat soon obtained 
sufficient headway to answer to the steering 
oar, and we were running before the wind at a 
good speed. One great danger had been passed, 
the next one was lest the waves should flow 
over the stern. The vigorous bailing could not 
entirely remove that danger, but as the water 
of the lake became of less depth, the waves 
decreased and that imminent danger had seem¬ 
ingly passed. 
The making of a safe landing was the next 
cause of anxiety. With the fierce wind still 
blowing, it was imperative to sail before the 
wind. Looking ahead through the driving rain 
a faint outline of the pine forests on the shore 
was seen, about four miles ahead. The shore 
of the lake was known to be sometimes a sand 
beach, but sometimes -shoal and with a beach of 
boulders. If we should run on the sand beach 
we felt safe. 
Going along at a clipping gait, we came to 
within a half mile of land, but the shore was 
very indistinct. When within a quarter of a 
mile, a sand beach was plainly seen. Just to 
the left of the landing ahead of 11s, was a rock 
beach. It was arranged that the two in front, 
Herendeen and myself, should leap ashore with 
the head line and hold the craft steadily until 
the balance scrambled ashore, for it was antici¬ 
pated after the prow was beached that the first 
waves would pile over the stern. 
As the bow ran up on the beach, Herendeen 
and myself leaped ashore with remarkable 
agilitv. climbed the bluff at the water s edge, 
and held fast to the line while the balance 
scrambled ashore from the boat, now filled with 
water, saving the guns, but no one thinking of 
those fat ducks. 
An indication of the nervous tension that had 
held sway in the party for the past hour or so, 
was the rebound, on reaching terra firma, to 
the hilarity and joyousness that beamed forth 
from the entire outfit. Joy and good fellowship 
was in the air. The gentleman from North 
Carolina exclaimed, “This atmosphere is more 
exhilarating than champagne,” to which we all 
agreed. 
The party then mov.ed rapidly into the dense 
pine forest to get out of reach of the wind 
that was yet blowing its best. Willing hands 
gathered dry wood and a roaring fire was soon 
