July 23, 1910.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
131 
Late the next afternoon, while fishing in the 
shadow of a heavy cedar, I noticed two big 
bulls making their way to the water at the oppo¬ 
site bank. The larger of the two bore a great 
spread of antlers of some thirty points, and here 
again the palmation was extremely broad—par¬ 
ticularly noticeable, as the velvet was nearly 
gone and the newly-exposed surface shone like 
ivory in the afternoon sun. The accompanying 
bull also had large and well-formed horns, but 
wholly in the velvet. 
The same evening we saw, just above our 
camp, a cow and a four-year-old bull, the latter 
bearing horns similar to those seen a few hours 
before. 
By this time it was certain that the long, nar¬ 
row antlers characterizing the fifteen bulls seen 
during this and the previous trip were only a 
more pronounced type of the Rocky Mountain 
moose, and this suggested that a further inspec¬ 
tion might disclose other types and intermediate 
forms. 
On the fourth day, after passing the last camp 
of the year before, we began to lose hope of 
reaching Bridger Lake. For now the shallow 
water at the widest portion of the river channel 
in many places ran swiftly over gravel bars, 
causing the canvas canoe to drag heavily on the 
pebbles and broken rocks, resulting in cuts and 
bruises and requiring frequent unloading and re¬ 
pairs. 
At sunset we struck a long swift piece of 
water, divided into several channels by tem¬ 
porary islands, and here in the haste of making 
camp before dark too much power was put on 
the tracking line, and we saw the canvas canoe 
shiver from stem to stern, as an upturned piece 
of shaley rock cut a slit in it of nearly two feet 
near the center. Hastening into the shallow 
water, the half sinking boat was dragged ashore 
and the second effort to reach the headwaters 
of this stream by water ended. 
We therefore determined to camp for several 
days on this portion of the river and explore 
the valley to the south on foot. Being provided 
with plenty of strong thread and with needles, 
extra canvas and pitch, John was satisfied that 
the canoe could be put in shape for our return 
during the time taken in exploring the valley 
south of camp. The next morning, in the midst 
of a heavy thunderstorm, I walked some miles 
up the valley, seeing several moose and a great 
many elk. Ascending the higher peaks, from 
time to time I was able to- examine and map the 
river bottom to a point several miles beyond 
Bridger Lake—which could be seen glistening— 
in the deceptive atmosphere of this region ap¬ 
parently only a few miles away. 
Valley of the Upper Yellowstone. 
The river delta at the lake is 7,741 feet above 
sea level and the gradual slope to the headwaters 
is only about 160 feet in some twenty miles. The 
* valley is walled in on either side by precipitous 
mountains, ranging from one to thre? thousand 
feet in height, broken here and there by the en¬ 
trance of tributary streams. The width of the 
bottom lands varies from one to five miles, being 
widest at the lower delta and near the park boun¬ 
dary at Thorofare Creek. The river is extreme¬ 
ly sinuous, being double the length of the valley, 
and, like most large mountain streams at the 
immediate base of a watershed and adjoining a 
lake basin, it has filled up the valley with silt to 
a depth of from twenty-five to fifty feet, so that 
on a right angle measurement the bottom land 
is practically on a dead level between the foot¬ 
hills. The stream is, therefore, free from falls 
or any pronounced rapids, which doubtless ex¬ 
isted before the leveling up of the river bottom. 
It is quite likely also that in remote years the 
lake extended much further up the valley, for 
the gradual filling in of the southeast arm of 
the lake from the sweepings of the mountain 
sides still continues, and it is possible to judge, 
from the age of the growing timber, how much 
it has advanced in the past fifty years or so. 
During midsummer and early fall the surface of 
the river lies from two to six feet below,the 
top of the bank, according to the distance one 
may be from the lake. But a careful examina- 
A COYOTE. 
From a photograph by George Shiras, 3d. 
tion of the driftwood and water marks- shows 
beyond question that during a portion of each 
June the bottom lands are all under water, ex¬ 
cept for a few hummocks here and there. The 
result of this annual overflow had an important 
bearing upon the results of the expedition. 
Yellowstone Lake, on the other hand, inter¬ 
cepts this detritus, and the valley of the lower 
river is a series of rapids and great falls for a 
number of miles, until the watersheds again 
begin to fill up and broaden the lower courses 
of the stream. 
For a number of reasons it becomes important 
to compare the vegetation along the bottom of 
the upper river with that of the foothills and 
higher ranges. , 
The bottom lands of the valley are composed 
in part of numerous meadows covered with 
luxuriant grass, while interspersed are hundreds 
of willow groves and numerous forests of lodge 
pole pine. Here and there small lakes and ponds 
provide many varieties of aquatic plants and 
grasses, while the confluent streams of the Yel¬ 
lowstone are divided, every few hundred yards, 
into slack-water pools by beaver dams, which 
likewise afford green food, and the muddy bot¬ 
toms so sought after by the moose in the sum¬ 
mer months. 
The illustration on the front cover gives a 
typical view of the valley. In the foreground 
is Trail Creek, under the western embankment, 
showing a beaver dam and two bull moose, be¬ 
hind which come the meadows and the willows, 
and then the line of pine forests concealing in 
turn Yellowstone River, while the eastern range, 
with its summit of snow, makes the background 
to the picture. George Shiras, 3D. 
[to be concluded.] 
A Day with the Birds. 
Warrensburg, Mo., July 10 —Editor Forest 
and Stream: Many bird students are unable 
to spend as much time in the woods as they 
would like to, but make good use of holidays 
and Sundays. Such was the situation of two 
of us who love to be out with the birds, and 
who in the early spring spent a very pleasant 
day in the woods along the largest creek in this 
vicinity. 
Leaving home at 7130 we took our way to¬ 
ward the creek. During our walk we crossed 
a stretch of rolling meadows where an occas¬ 
ional withered dog-tooth violet and patches of 
faded bluets were seen. 
Before us was a beautiful valley filled with a 
luxuriant growth of maples, hickories, redbuds, 
oaks and other forest trees. Native grasses 
gave coloring; a clear bro< 5 k murmured through 
a rocky basin. Perched high in a hickory sap¬ 
ling, showing gorgeous coloring in the bright 
sunlight, uttering wild inquiring whistling notes, 
as if lost, was a male purple finch. Further on 
we met with two pairs of these birds. This 
was our first meeting with this species and will 
long be remembered. What a vivid recollection 
one has of the day, the weather, the tree or bush 
where he first noted a bird new to him! Here 
Harris’ sparrows were numerous. What hand¬ 
some fellows they are! To me they seem the 
handsomest of the sparrows. Their wild exult¬ 
ant voices were heard from brush piles and sec¬ 
ond growths in many directions. Their notes 
seemed to resemble those of the cardinal, white- 
throat, a kinglet-like note, and the plaintive notes 
of the field sparrow. They are sweet songsters, 
and I call them the mockingbird of the spar¬ 
rows. Thrashers were silently slipping about in 
the brush piles as if afraid to show themselves 
so early in the season. Towhees were perched 
on high, giving voice to their sentiments, and 
cardinals were joyfully whistling. • How we en¬ 
joyed their efforts! Field sparrows had long 
since returned, and song and tree sparrows were 
still numerous. 
We had quite an exciting chase after a small 
dumpy brown bird, which proved to be a winter 
wren. In our efforts to identify it, we had to 
cross and recross a muddy stream several times. 
The wren seemed much discomposed by our 
pursuit. He would alternately squat and then 
rise, all the while scolding with notes which 
sounded like “pit, pit.” 
At length we reached the creek and followed 
it down for several miles. The elms and box 
elders were in bloom, and hickory buds were 
swollen. The ground was carpeted with count- 
