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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
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 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
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 I 
 
 
 
IMid 
 
THE 
 
 CALUMET OF THE COTEAU, 
 
 AND OTHER 
 
 POETICAL LEGENDS OF THE BORDER. 
 
 ALSO, 
 
 A GLOSSARY OF INDIAN NAMES, WORDS, AND 
 WESTERN PROVINCIALISMS. 
 
 TOGETHER WITH 
 
 A GUIDE-BOOK 
 
 OF THE 
 
 YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK. 
 By P. W. MORRIS, 
 
 FIVE YEARS SUPERINTENDENT OF THE YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK. 
 
 F C0,V 
 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESER FED. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 1883. 
 
"p<3 2-<n4- 
 
 
 Copyright, 1883, by P. W. Norris, 
 
To my early and dear friend who long ago by the Miami of the 
 Lakes, in the wilds of Northwestern Ohio, strengthened my youthful 
 ambition, I am indebted for the impulses which from time to time 
 found expression in poetic fancy. 
 
 As a reminder of those days, so fraught with pleasure and profit, 
 and as a slight token of gratitude to one whose character I admire 
 and whose friendship I cherish, the following legends are dedicated 
 to the 
 
 Honorable MORRISON R. WAITE, 
 
 Chief Justice of the United States. 
 
I SING IN SONGS. 
 
 I sing in songs of gliding lays 
 Of forest scenes in border days ; 
 Of rippling rills in valleys green, 
 And mirrored hills in lakelet sheen ; 
 Of mountain-peaks begirt with snow, 
 And flowery parks, pine-girt below ; 
 Of daring deeds of border braves, 
 On dashing steeds, to gory graves ; 
 Of brawny breast 'neath painted plume, 
 On warrior's crest, in dash to doom ; 
 Of light canoe on dashing shore, 
 And daring crew, who'll row no more ; 
 Of goblins grim and canons grand, 
 And geysers spouting o'er the strand ; 
 Of Mystic Lake, of Wonder-Land. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The production of the stanzas which compose the fol- 
 lowing narratives of incidents, legends, and traditions of 
 border-life are not the result of any preconceived plan 
 or elaborate preparation, but are the spontaneous out- 
 growth of circumstances and events as diverse and pecu- 
 liar as the strains in which they are written or the scenes 
 which they portray. 
 
 Tender affection and filial regard for a disabled soldier 
 sire of Pilgrim descent, an affectionate mother of Welsh 
 birth and lineage, and a numerous family of young and 
 dependent sisters, impelled my boyish footsteps from our 
 frontier cabin of love to the toils and dangers of a trap- 
 per's life along the great lakes, rivers, and amid the 
 mountains of the pathless Northwest, in order to assist 
 one parent in his increasing age and failing strength, 
 and the other in her efforts with the rude weaver's shuttle 
 in providing for the comfort and education of my sisters. 
 From this revered Welsh mother I doubtless inherit an 
 ardent love for mountain and song. The stern realities 
 of border-life strengthened the one and wellnigh strangled 
 the other; and under the opinion, still retained, that the 
 poet's fantastic visions rarely accord with the cool calcu- 
 
 9 
 
IO INTRODUCTION. 
 
 lations requisite for business success, I seldom allowed 
 these day-dreams encouragement or record. Yet these 
 unbidden visions were occasionally pencilled by the 
 camp-fire, in hours of danger, as a solace from care 
 or as a tribute to the memory of cherished comrades 
 gone; but they were seldom long retained amid my 
 wanderings. 
 
 Those which memory cherished were published under 
 the nom de plume of " Glen Alpine," my own name, for 
 business reasons, being usually concealed. 
 
 Of these, "Gallant Charley Reynolds," "Cloud-Cir- 
 cled Mountains/' and especially "The Union of the 
 Valleys/' published soon after the Custer massacre, were 
 encouragingly received. Since that time the remaining 
 poems have been written, usually with pencil only, when 
 and where occasion called them forth, and preserved, 
 which was generally all accorded them during my five 
 successive years of arduous duties as superintendent of 
 the Yellowstone National Park. Pending the adjustment 
 of my accounts in connection with this duty, and the 
 preparations for those of Ethnological research among the 
 mounds and other prehistoric remains in the Mississippi 
 Valley during the past season, these fugitive poems were 
 gathered up, revised, and, with explanatory notes and a 
 glossary, somewhat arranged, and now, together with a 
 few additional legends, and a map and guide for the 
 Yellowstone National Park, prepared for publication. 
 
 It must be evident that persons associating in youth 
 with comrades of many nations, speaking dissimilar Ian- 
 
1NTR OD UCTION. 
 
 II 
 
 guages, the guttural jargon, or employing signs as a mode 
 of communication, could hardly escape acquiring lasting 
 habits of speech and a style of writing very unlike their 
 native tongue ; hence, despite change in the construction 
 of verses, and the addition of connecting words in many 
 of these stanzas, abundant evidence remains to prove 
 they were written tinged with an idiom clearly distinct 
 from ordinary English. This is regretted, and earnest 
 efforts have been made for its modification in the recent 
 use of words and construction of sentences. Thus the 
 want of grammatical accuracy in this work is not as in 
 those of some authors, an intentional provincialism, but 
 the inherent defects of the early training of the author ; 
 and hence it is hoped that this consideration may some- 
 what turn aside the shafts of unfriendly criticism. 
 
 Perhaps it may be conceded that this admitted lack of 
 style and finish in the verses is in part counterbalanced 
 by the truthful description of the marvels in the Goblin 
 and Wonder-Lands, and the ever-changing scenes of the 
 border, in which the author has largely participated, and 
 the faithful recital of the legends or traditions of the days 
 agone. 
 
 Nor has the author sought to invade the sacred pre- 
 cincts of classic literature, or trespass upon the trodden 
 fields of poetic fame, but as a tireless pioneer and path- 
 finder, he has explored the route, blazed the trail, and 
 brought away, rough-hewn and unpolished, some of the 
 countless gems hidden upon the rolling coteaus, the 
 snow- and cliff-encircled parks and lovely valleys of an 
 
12 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 empire now in the closing throes of transition from a 
 race of stoic lethargy to that of resistless energy and 
 progress. 
 
 If, by the publication of these gliding narratives of 
 slaughter, of sorrow, of heroism, or of hope, the author 
 shall have rescued from impending oblivion a few of the 
 thrilling scenes and unknown actors of this momentous 
 era, and thereby encouraged others to fill future poetic 
 volumes of authentic history, he will feel that recalling 
 and publishing these camp-fire recollections and sketches 
 of a life upon the border has not been utterly in vain. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGK 
 
 The Calumet of the Coteau 17 
 
 The Goblin-Land 40 
 
 The Mystic Lake of Wonder-Land 45 
 
 The Faithful Lovers . 50 
 
 Gallant Charley Reynolds 60 
 
 Pilgrims of the Yellowstone 63 
 
 Captive Maiden . .67 
 
 The Wonder-Land 70 
 
 Bold Hero of the Border • 73 
 
 Stalwart Yeoman 75 
 
 Go Where Duty Calls Thee 77 
 
 The Dying Mandans 79 
 
 The Dying Trapper .81 
 
 Bozeman Bold 84 
 
 The Cloud-Circled Mountains 86 
 
 Where Else on Earth? 88 
 
 Bradley the Brave 90 
 
 From Big- Horn's Bleak Mountains 92 
 
 Mystic Land 94 
 
 The Granger Song 96 
 
 Border Brave 99 
 
 The Tattooed Artist 10 1 
 
 The Mosquito no 
 
 Frightened Hans 112 
 
 The Winding Dell 114 
 
 Afar from the Cities and Hamlets of Men . . .117 
 Oh, is there in this World so Drear? .... 119 
 
 To the Tie at Home . . 121 
 
 The Warrior's Grave 123 
 
 I Sing in Songs . . . . . . .125 
 
 2 1? 
 
I4 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Blaze Brightly, O Camp-fire! 127 
 
 Union of the Valleys 129 
 
 Oh, for Bard to Truly Treasure 131 
 
 Rustic Bridge and Crystal Falls 132 
 
 High Towers the Craggy Summit 135 
 
 Lonely Glen 137 
 
 Reynolds's Dirge . . 138 
 
 Yes, be it Thus 139 
 
 In Cabin, Camp, or Council 140 
 
 Yes, Every One a Man 141 
 
 The Artist Stanley 145 
 
 MlN-NE-HA-HA . . . . . . . . . . 146 
 
 Lovely River 147 
 
 Burial Teepee 148 
 
 Bold Trapper of the Camp-fire 149 
 
 The Warrior's Dirge 150 
 
 Cypress Shadows .152 
 
 I've Trailed the Proud Columbia ' 153 
 
 Ho, Waken! 157 
 
 Northern Clime 159 
 
 De Soto 162 
 
 Notes . . . . . . . . . . .171 
 
 Glossary 223 
 
 Guide-book of the Yellowstone National Park . . 235 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 i. The Cliff and Quarry of the Pipestone or Sacred 
 Calumet . ..... Frontispiece. 
 
 2. The Indian Council 24 
 
 3 Custer's Battle-ground 37 
 
 4. The Goblin Labyrinths 43 
 
 5. The Daring Maiden 56 
 
 6. The Dying Trapper 82 
 
 7. Rustic Bridge and Crystal Falls . . . .133 
 
 8. Map of the Yellowstone National Park . . 235 
 
 9. Mammoth Hot Springs 245 
 
 10. Map of the Upper Geyser Basin .... 255 
 
 11. Bee-Hive Geyser '. 257 
 
THE CAL-U-MET OF THE COTEAU. 
 
 *Say, hast thou seen the cal-u-met* of pink or purple 
 
 bright, 
 A pipe-bowl in the council, a hatchet in the fight ? 
 And heard the Indian legend, all of a deluge grand, 
 Of time agone uncounted o'er the Da-ko-ta land; 
 When a remnant of the red men upon a rocky crest 
 Were gathered where the eagle had built his lofty nest, 
 And the rising waters swallowed all save a virgin lone, 
 Who clung to the war-eagle and nestled in his home ; 
 When from receding waters the rocky crest arose, 
 Lo ! turned to shining jasper were mingled friends and 
 
 foes? 
 
 Then hovered the Man-i-touf to view the horrid scene, 
 
 A cliff of rocky warriors above* the coteau green : 
 
 " This rock/' he cries, " is sacred ; no warrior here shall 
 
 stand 
 With bended bow and arrow, or battle-lance in hand ; 
 No war-whoop here shall echo, no scalping-knife shall 
 
 gleam, 
 But o'er the rolling coteau shall glide a crystal stream, 
 And emerald pools shall sparkle along the lovely vale, 
 For cleansing baths of warriors, where foes shall not 
 
 assail ; 
 
 * Cal'u-met, the sacred pipe of peace. 
 
 f Man-/ (pronounced e) -tou, the Mysterious Spirit, or God. 
 b 2* 17 
 
1 8 THE CAL-U-MET OF THE CO TEA a 
 
 But all shall meet in friendship around the rocky crest, 
 Where the weak shall dwell in safety and the ' weary 
 be at rest.' " 
 
 Thus spake the proud Man-i-tou unto the mongrel brood 
 Of the maiden and war-eagle, who stern around him 
 
 stood, 
 Who on the crest an altar of shining jasper made, 
 And sacrifice of bison upon it reeking laid, 
 As pledge of compact sacred, when, lo ! from cal'met- 
 
 bowl — 
 The wand of the Man-i-tou — the flames of heaven roll 
 From the stem to waiting altar, as lightning from above, 
 And incense sweet from bison seals pledge of peace and 
 
 love, — 
 From altar, then, Man-i-tou quick carves a cal'met bright, 
 And how to smoke it taught them, then vanished from 
 
 their sight ; 
 But the Was-sa-mo-win* flashing transpierced the eagle's 
 
 nest, 
 And glazed to hardest adamant the towering jasper crest ; 
 But the foot-print of the eagle deep in the rock remains, 
 And the blood of slaughtered bison the crag a crimson 
 
 stains. 
 
 Forth went the stalwart red men, and wandered o'er the 
 
 earth, 
 Each clan with purple cal'mets carved at their place of 
 
 birth, 
 To smoke on each occasion of council for a peace, 
 When all who smoked to totem pledged massacre should 
 
 cease ; 
 
 * Was'sa-mo'win, lightning. 
 
THE CAL-U-MET OF THE CO TEA U. j 9 
 
 But the pipe with blade of hatchet, and stem with eagle's 
 
 plume, 
 And paint of bright vermilion, are smoked as call of 
 
 doom ! 
 For eagle's plume on hatchet-stem was the totem of the 
 
 sire, 
 Which warriors made in battle, and stoics in the fire ; 
 While the bowl of peaceful maiden was smoked for war 
 
 to cease, 
 That each should meet as kindred, and all should dwell 
 
 in peace. 
 
 But lost were maidens' cal-u-mets, while the warrior's 
 
 hatchet new 
 Was ever carved more gorgeous, as savage habits grew ; 
 And, as virtue ever suffers by compromise with crime, 
 So the eagle's bloody hatchet hewed the maiden's pipe in 
 
 time; 
 And when her children wandered far to the cal'met land, 
 Lo ! too hard was rock to make them with tool in human 
 
 hand ; 
 In sore distress, the Wa-kon, as mother of the race, 
 With sacrifice and prayer, was sought to show her face ; 
 When lo ! in cloud she hovered above the eagle's nest, 
 And sweet-voiced like the zephyrs, her children thus 
 
 addressed : 
 
 " Oh, children ! my children ! your prayers I hear, 
 Go forth on the coteau and gather the deer, 
 The elk and the bison, and antelope fleet, 
 For slaughter and offering as sacrifice sweet ; 
 2 But the bison, so lofty, so fleet, and so white, 
 Oh ! mar not his beauty, but follow his flight ! 
 
2 o THE CAL-U-MET OF THE CO TEA U. 
 
 Where his hoofs turn the rocks on the trail of the slain, 
 In that crimson-stained rill seek for pipe-stone again, — 
 Carve and smoke from the quarry by blood rendered soft ; 
 Live in peace with each other, — I'll view from aloft ! 
 That the eagle may sanction this compact divine, 
 
 3 These five eggs I leave for your witness and mine ; 
 
 4 Lo ! beneath are two grottos for Wa-root-ka's home, 
 To watch all your doings wherever I roam. 
 Farewell, my dear children ! I'm goddess at home ; 
 But the proud eagle governs the warriors who roam !" 
 
 Thus spake the mother Wa-kon, beneath her floating hair 
 Of waving spray and rainbow, then vanished into air. 
 Adown into the valley they trailed the bison white, 
 When near the eggs (now adamant) beheld a cheering 
 
 sight ; 
 Of cal'met rock a fragment by bison hoof upturned, 
 In stream of blood from sacrifice, upon the coteau burned ; 
 The quarry found, deep in the ground, beside the crystal 
 
 stream, 
 Ever retains those crimson stains, matchless to carve and 
 
 gleam ; 
 Whence alone have cal'mets purple for all the Indian race 
 Quarried been beneath the waters, which bear a crimson 
 
 trace. 
 
 Full soon were pilgrims gathered, from Win-ne-ba-go band, 
 And Cher-o-kee and Choc-taw, from sunny southern land ; 
 The Mo-hawk and Wy-an-dotte, from eastern timbered 
 
 vales, 
 Brule, Flat-head, and Wa-lu-la, amid the western dales ; 
 The Sem-i-nole and Eu-taw, 'mid creeping southern vines, 
 Bold Chip-pe-wa and Hu-ron, from tow'ring northern 
 
 pines ; 
 
THE CAL-U-MET OF THE COTEAU. 2 I 
 
 The Pe-quod and Mo-hic-an, from Atlantic's granite 
 
 shore, 
 With Cay-use and Nis-qual-la, from the loud Pacific's roar; 
 The Ban-nock and Sho-shon-e, dull Ute and crafty Crow, 
 
 5 Bold Chey-enne and Da-ko-ta, the latter called Si-oux. 
 
 Brave Paw-nee of the prairies, Pi-ute from Lava Plains, 
 A-rick-a-ree and Man-dan (whose fields Missouri drains) ; 
 Pilgrims from each were gathered, friends here, though 
 
 elsewhere foes ! 
 In pools removed was war-paint, plunged hatchets, lance, 
 
 and bows, 
 As brothers all united to gather, carve, and smoke 
 Cal-u-mets from quarry sacred, and Man-i-tou's love 
 
 invoke; 
 Young warriors with ambition the " Leaping-Rock" to 
 
 press, 
 Found horrid death in failure, and honor in success ; 
 
 6 In jasper cairn they buried the maid and warrior gone, 
 And bright their totems painted upon the walls of stone. 
 
 O, lovely days of beauty and happy nights of peace ! 
 All countless are the bison, the elk are slain with ease ; 
 The Man-dan round his earth-lodge his garden tills secure, 
 The yellow trout, and speckled, fill dashing streamlet pure ; 
 
 7 The woolly-sheep and big-horn skip near the crests of 
 
 snow, 
 Unnumbered in the valleys are the shaggy buffalo ; 
 Swift antelope and black-tails bedeck the treeless plains, 
 And swans with snowy plumage the glades Missouri drains; 
 In light canoes the Chip-pe-was their Mon-o-nim* secure, 
 These countless gifts of providence to nature's God allure. 
 
 * Mon-o-nim, wild rice. 
 
22 THE CAL-U-MET OF THE COTEAU. 
 
 Oh, these blissful days are waning, and bitter days begun, 
 With the coming of the pale-face athwart the rising sun ! 
 Their " big canoes' * with eagle-wings are matchless in 
 
 the race, 
 Terrific are the warriors with bearded throat and face, 
 8 Bestride fleet hornless bison, resistless in the strife, 
 And from their side oft flashes a long and flaming knife ; 
 From bosom gleams bright totems, war-bonnets shield 
 
 their eyes, 
 Each war-lance darting lightning, their thunders rend 
 
 the skies ; 
 Flames from their monster cal-u-mets blaze like a meteor 
 
 star, 
 And unseen barbless arrows are deadly from afar. 
 
 The artless child of nature in silent wonder gazed, 
 
 9 Then from the "Mighty Medicine' ' in terror fled amazed. 
 
 Scarce had these tales of wonder traversed the mighty 
 
 lakes, 
 Ere echoing new thunder, primeval silence breaks ; 
 Nor hissing bolts of murder pursue for human gore, 
 
 10 Pure Hen-ne-pin and Du-luth visit for good the shore ; 
 And through untrodden forests they seek the boundless 
 
 West, 
 
 11 Till the Prairie Min-ne-tan-ka their wanderings arrest, 
 When lo ! amid the pastures of mingled flowers and 
 
 green, 
 High o'er the Min-ne-ha-ha, St. Anthony is seen. 
 On halo crest of rainbow that spans his canon walls 
 He with his own name christens the Mis-sis-sip-pi Falls, 
 And hails the wond'ring Frenchman, in accents clear 
 
 and strong, 
 "Adown this mighty river in safety glide along 
 
THE CAL-U-MET OF THE COTEAU. 23 
 
 From the lake-land of the pine-tree to the cypress by the 
 
 sea, 
 But along its western borders are a people brave and free. 
 No pale-face foot in sacrilege may press Dakota's plains, . 
 For thus our Wa-kan-tan-ka the sacred right ordains. 
 With curling smoke of cal-u-met they'll greet you to their 
 
 shore, 
 But all advance the tomahawk will terminate in gore." 
 With kind intent the warning given, in birchen-bark 
 
 canoe, 
 Like Chippewa, St. Anthony quick vanishes from view. 
 
 Full soon the sons of nature in mighty council meet, 
 To pledge the roving pale-face as brother all to greet. 
 12 With purple pipe the chieftain first heavenward points 
 
 above, 
 Then east, and west, and north, and south, for witnesses 
 
 to prove 
 The friendship that he proffers, upward with curling 
 
 smoke, 
 Prove ever true and lasting, or the Wa-kon's curse invoke ! 
 With one long puff from sacred pipe, each passes it along, 
 'Mid bold harangues of warriors and mingled dance and 
 
 song, 
 Till all have pledged Man-i-tou each as a friend to know, 
 While sun and moon shall circle, or crystal waters flow. 
 
 Thus, where the Min-ne-so-ta the Mis-sis-sip-pi meets, 
 And fairy Min-ne-ha-ha in matchless beauty sleeps, 
 Warriors of Man-i-to-ba and from Mis-sou-ri's strand, 
 Foxes of Mil-wau-kee and the Mi-am-i grand, 
 Chieftain of Min-ne-o-la, on crested helmet sheen, 
 Runners of Min-ne-o-pa, from rolling coteaus green, 
 With fiery Mish-e-wau-kee pledged the Man-i-tou God 
 That coteaus of Da-ko-ta by whites should ne'er be trod; 
 
24 
 
 THE CAL-U-MET OF THE COTEAU. 
 
 But the roaring Min-ne-tan-ka a border hence shall be 
 Betwixt the native rovers and those from o'er the sea. 
 First pale-face then from the council adown the river 
 
 passed ; 
 By the fate of Indian nations, happy had they been the 
 
 last ! 
 
 
 
 THE INDIAN COUNCIL. 
 
 Too soon, alas ! the Long-Knife upon his charger came ; 
 Anew they smoked the cal'met, and friendship pledged 
 
 again ; 
 But no Le Sueur or Jo-li-ette, with hearts of truth and 
 
 love : 
 'Twas now a band of traders, robbers where'er they rove. 
 
THE CAL-U-MET Of THE COTEAU. 25 
 
 With honeyed words, but hearts of lust, they promised 
 
 but to win, 
 Practised vile arts on innocence, proud revelling in sin ; 
 Cheating alike in what they bought, and gaudy trinkets 
 
 sold ; 
 Every craft was justified to garner furs and gold ; 
 The flowing cup of sorrow they luring hold in sight, — 
 Pelf sanctifies the weapons, — " success is ever right." 
 13 Naught care they for the sufferings, the hunger, thirst, or 
 
 cold 
 Of agonizing victims, so with gore they gather gold, 
 
 At first they taste with caution, then drink and drink 
 again, 
 
 Like flock of simple goslings, soon sense with bottle 
 drain ; 
 
 Then dance, and laugh, and swagger, — men, not maid- 
 ens, kiss, then fight. 
 
 Reeling, they fall while boasting ; for, to act the demon 
 right, 
 
 Needless stage, or school, or college ; for lo ! one bottle 
 full 
 
 Of liquid fire ruin brings to wisdom, wealth, and soul, 
 
 Slaying alike all nations, — the merry sons of France, 
 
 The sturdy sons of Erin, or Brule with scalping dance. 
 
 Proud slaves it makes of votaries, who freedom ne'er re- 
 gain,— 
 
 The viler gall the fetters, the sweeter seems the chain. 
 
 Thus with the simple red men: entranced by poison vile, 
 While to their old friends cruel, they on the traders smile, 
 And in their revels barter, not furs and health alone, 
 But wife and daughter's virtue, to trader, viler grown. 
 And when the coteau-mother, her simple race to save, 
 Invokes the Eagle chieftain, him too she finds a slave 
 b 3 
 
26 THE CAL-U-MET OF THE COTEAU. 
 
 Of passion vile and cruel — oh, horrid tale to tell ! — 
 His daughter, young and lovely, to trader seeks to sell, 
 14 For wife to grace the harem, and firm unite his race 
 With chieftain of the Long-Knife and smiling bearded 
 face ! 
 
 Behold the mother Wa-kon, upon the coteau crest, 
 In agony imploring for her people sore oppressed : 
 
 " Man-i-tou ! oh, Man-i-tou ! save us 
 
 From the foe that would enslave us ; 
 
 From the pale-face ever smiling m 
 
 On the maiden he's beguiling, 
 
 And from ancient brave confiding, 
 
 Robs the pinto he's bestriding, 
 
 To the warrior proud and daring 
 
 Cup of Min-ne-bo-ta bearing, 
 
 Thus the fount of sorrow nursing, 
 
 Soon a flood of crime and cursing ! 
 
 " Now, my chief, once true and loving, 
 
 From my arms is ever roving, 
 
 And for fount of fiery water 
 
 Seeks to barter darling daughter; 
 
 Oh, night of woe, and morn of sorrow, 
 
 Dark the day and drear the morrow ! 
 
 Oh, my stricken form is quaking, 
 
 And my yearning heart is breaking ! 
 
 Oh, Man-i-tou ! save my daughter, 
 
 And chief and race from crime and slaughter !" 
 
 Where the lovely Mississippi unites with Pepin Lake 
 15 Tower high o'er crystal waters huge crags of crumbling 
 slate ; 
 
THE CAL-U-MET OE THE COTEAU. 27 
 
 In fairy grove, 'mid prairie, — hard by, — stood pale-face 
 
 den, 
 And there pure Min-ne-ha-ha was to have wedded been ; 
 But ere she left the fairy falls which honor still her name, 
 She to her Min-ne-o-la pledged faithful to remain ; 
 Then down the stream in birch canoe he vanishes unseen 
 To Pepin's hidden grotto, and there awaits his queen ; 
 With life and hope and nimble step, if fate allow her to, 
 If not, to leap from towering rock, and die with lover true. 
 
 The spirit of the Eagle, with hatchet, plume, and lance, 
 Was ever for the war-path, the reeking scalp, and dance, 
 While the nature of the maiden through all these ages ran 
 With tenderness to woman and fellowship with man. 
 Tho' wars were fierce and bloody upon the distant plain, 
 O'er all the sacred coteau there spouts no crimson stain, — 
 And in its vale of refuge beneath the rocky dome 
 Are ever peace and safety as in a parent's home ; 
 But red men on the river have evil grown apace, — 
 The doings of the Long-Knife have ever cursed the race. 
 
 The trader's speckled harem of every tribe and hue, 
 
 Of wrangling whelps and pappoose, and maidens ever new, 
 
 'Twas there pure Min-ne-ha-ha was sought for a queen 
 
 awhile, 
 16 Then thrust aside degraded, to delve in kennel vile ! 
 Strange if with such example she fails to see the snare, 
 Or seeing, preferred dying; but first a maiden's prayer: 
 " Man-i-tou ! oh, Man-i-tou ! grant hunger, thirst, and 
 
 toil, 
 Faint, paddling in the rapids or delving in the soil, 
 Share the sufferings of our people, the perils of our race, 
 But wed me not to pale-face, — pray spare me that dis- 
 grace, — 
 
28 THE CAL-U-MET OF THE CO TEA U. 
 
 I love my Min-ne-o-la, — oh ! let me share his lot, 
 Or deep beneath the waters be evermore forgot l" 
 
 But frenzied was the Eagle by venom from the still, 
 And to gratify that passion relentless was his will ; 
 In vain was mother's pleading, unheeded maiden's prayer, 
 His warriors' scowls derided ('twas in the trader's lair) ; 
 With hatchet high uplifted (no passage knew to plain), 
 Vowed she should Long-Knife marry, or mingle with the 
 
 slain ! 
 The daring wife of Eagle, with all a mother's love, 
 17 The secret passage opens, — quick darts the turtle-dove ! 
 
 " Love, mother, — oh, my mother ! to you and chieftain 
 
 true, 
 Pure, I'll die with Min-ne-o-la !" and to the crest she 
 
 flew, — 
 No frenzied sire nor Long-Knife, nor lance nor quivering 
 
 dart, 
 Can reach the flying maiden or pierce the fluttering heart. 
 The summit gained, alas ! one glance at earth, then heaven ! 
 Then from the giddy crest she leaped, like bolt by thunder 
 
 riven, 
 Deep 'mid the crystal waters, pure as her truth and love, 
 To arms of waiting chieftain, where mermaids ever rove ! 
 Though ages long have vanished, warriors and nations 
 
 sleep, 
 18 Still oft in wave-kissed grottos sing they at "Maiden's 
 
 Leap." 
 
 "All hidden our grotto beneath the blue waters, 
 
 That requiems murmur as gliding along; 
 Nor wrath of the Eagle at queen of his daughters 
 
 Our refuge shall darken, or fetter our song : 
 
THE CAL-U-MET OF THE COTEAU. 
 
 29 
 
 O Wa-kon ! our mother, dost spirit still hover 
 Around the bold cliffs and blue waters below, 
 
 While evening's soft zephyrs waft low wails of lover 
 O'er Pepin's pure waters at twilight aglow? 
 
 And while Min-ne-so-ta meanders in sadness, 
 
 Low, murmuring ^through valley, ' adieu to our race.' 
 
 19 And thou, Mis-sis-sip-pi, bear'st temples in gladness, 
 With loud strains of music their progress to trace, 
 
 Shall plumed Min-ne-o-la, unchanging as lover, 
 
 With paddle scarce dipping, chant boat-song of braves, 
 
 And pure Min-ne-ha-ha, the wild cliffs above her, 
 Make laughing re-echo, our dirge from the waves !" 
 
 Not humbled by his folly, nor by its woe and cost, 
 But furious at the mother whose love the maiden lost, 
 He sealed with warrior's hatchet the cal'met Wa-kon's 
 
 doom ! 
 Too late drunken Man-i-tou pales 'neath his paint and 
 
 plume, 
 The stroke his race has destined, tho' struggling to re- 
 main, 
 Yet sure to fade and vanish. Once in a sober vein, 
 Proud Eagle pleads in anguish, — no Wa-kon hears his 
 
 calls : 
 No more remorse, but bitterness henceforth his mind 
 
 enthralls, — 
 The mercy of the maiden has fled the copper race, — 
 The vengeance of the Eagle, relentless, takes its place ! 
 
 And now, alas ! the Eagle in anger chose a mate, — 
 Not one who fosters mercy, but ever favors hate; 
 Who like an earthly vixen with jealousy oppressed, 
 Quick soar'd to cal'met coteau, and rent the Eagle's nest ; 
 
 3* 
 
3° 
 
 THE CAL-U-MET OF THE CO TEA U. 
 
 Then perched upon the eminence, to cool her wrath 
 
 awhile, 
 But nursing roused it higher, with purposes most vile : 
 "This is the Eagle's heritage, and I his favored mate, 
 These, Wa-kon's loving children, their every act I hate ; 
 They meet and wash the war-paint in my crystal bathing- 
 pools, 
 They dig and smoke in friendship, and act like simple 
 
 fools j 
 As tho' our elk and bison were made for them alone, 
 They sing and dance and gabble, wild revelling in our 
 
 home, 
 And plotting with each other against their royal chief, 
 That / am an intruder, War-Eagle but a thief! 
 While they audacious plunder the pillars of our throne, 
 And whittle smoking cal-u-mets from our choicest purple 
 
 stone ; 
 I'll teach them how to chatter, to frolic, sing, and 
 
 dance, — 
 These children of another, — oh, how I'll make them 
 
 prance ! ' '. 
 
 Then to the Eagle hastens, near Min-ne-o-la's home, 
 (Lest her untimely absence allow her chief to roam) ; 
 Like a true stepmother, his willing ear she fills 
 With projects grand but simple, to 'scape all earthly ills. 
 'Twas but to borrow thunder, and lance and gleaming 
 
 knife, 
 And steeds of Shun-ka-wa-kan,* and follow their new life 
 Of ease upon the prairies, at cal'met coteau bright, 
 Demanding of these pilgrims by what heritage or right 
 
 * Shun-ka-wa-kan, sacred dog, — i.e., horse. 
 
THE CAL-U-MET OF THE CO TEA a 3I 
 
 They live in ease and plenty on our deer and antelope, 
 
 And dig away our quarry, or lazily to mope, 
 
 While we from home as strangers wander, — "Oh, my 
 
 chief, 
 Would thou wert Eagle warrior, then were our sorrows 
 
 brief !" 
 
 " Hold, my consort !" cries the Eagle, 
 " Have all as you will ; 
 I am ready, I am willing, — 
 Revel, rob, and kill. 
 20 Bury purple cal'met peaceful ; 
 Quench its azure smoke ; 
 Grasp the hatchet crimson reeking, 
 Death at every stroke ! 
 
 When the simple peaceful pilgrim 
 
 Seeks a cal'met bright, 
 I will burnish, I will furnish 
 
 For a wampum bright. 
 I will slaughter on the coteau 
 
 Till a crimson stream 
 Floods the quarry, drowns the pilgrim, 
 • And I crown my queen. # 
 
 Then will follow Min-ne-ke-wa, 
 
 Long a trail of gore, 
 From the coteau to the river 
 
 And Lake Pepin's shore ! M 
 
 Thus a new era opens, — once his passions roused 
 
 By wine and crafty woman, he with the pale-face housed 
 
 Hostage ample in payment for the murderous tools of 
 
 war ; 
 Then hastens in wild splendor to the coteau of the fair. 
 
32 
 
 THE CAL-U-MET OF THE CO TEA a 
 
 The pilgrims in amazement gather along the stream 
 
 To view the prancing chargers and of arms the burnished 
 
 gleam ; 
 Nor long were left to wonder, for loud the trumpet calls, 
 And musket peals re-echo along the rocky walls, 
 Above the roaring waters, beside the Leaping-Rock, 
 Which quivers like an aspen from the unwonted shock ! 
 
 Soon the War-Eagle summons unto his teepee all 
 (While, Satan-like, his consort prompts menace with the 
 
 call) : 
 "Why sap ye the foundation of my rocky home and nest, 
 By digging for the cal'met beneath its tottering crest? 
 A tribute's mine, — a portion of what you quarry here ; 
 One-half of all your cal-u-mets, — sure, that is not too dear; 
 Beside, of deer and bison and beaver of the rill 
 Mine be the furs and robes, — of the carcass eat your fill, 
 Save choice of loin tender, — hence pledged to me and 
 
 mine, 
 As coteau's great Wa-kan-da, by a standing right divine." 
 
 In blank and mute amazement the pilgrims stand around, 
 Like claims of crafty rulers people wiser oft astound ; 
 Full soon tkey break and scatter, departing each his way, 
 The cowards to pay tribute, the bold the chief to slay. 
 But vain on earth is innocence, the weak against the 
 
 strong, 
 For "might makes right," and hopelessly fights right 
 
 against the wrong. 
 Full soon from cowards' tribute, or plunder stained with 
 
 gore, 
 The ghoul is paid, with usury, and shrewdly trusted more; 
 For slaves of vice and rapine are often from this cause 
 By masters safer trusted than those obeying laws. 
 
THE CAL-U-MET OF THE COTEAU. 33 
 
 21 Thus spoil the Wa-kan-she-cha had crushed or slain the 
 
 race 
 Of the ever-loving Wa-kon, and a covey reared in place — 
 Fit whelps of the War-Eagle and his Cay-ou-ta mate — 
 As venomous as serpents, as sly and sure as fate ; 
 In league with vilest pale-face, and through him with the 
 
 de'il, 
 By courage, or through cunning, make all their neighbors 
 
 feel 
 That such a race of robbers resistless soon must prove, 
 And slaughtered are, commingled, or far away remove ; 
 Thus all winds seemed to favor the fierce Da-ko-ta clan, 
 Scoffers at the laws of God ! deriders of the rights of man ! 
 
 With the cunning of Mahomet, a religion new they made, 
 To suit their lust and rapine, deeming war a holy trade ; 
 Each Sioux born a warrior, the steed his constant friend, 
 His earliest hope the sun-dance, to nerve and courage 
 
 blend ; 
 Thence proudly on the war-trail, a reeking proof to claim, 
 Scalps helpless squaw or pappoose (all count a coup the 
 
 same), 
 Then yelling to the council, bedaubed with sickening gore, 
 Flaunts maiden's scalp as warrior, — then hastens after 
 
 more ; 
 Each thought and plan and struggle is for a warrior's fame, 
 Blood-daubed and painted savage, loud glorying in his 
 
 shame \ 
 Sure if his fate in battle be from his steed to die, 
 In bliss to soon bestride him, with plume on bonnet high ! 
 
 Thus the courage of the eagle and the cunning of the wolf 
 Are blended in the Sioux, in their very web and woof; 
 
34 THE CAL-U-MET OF THE CO TEA U. 
 
 A score of clans they scatter far o'er the western plains, 
 From the lovely mountain valleys to the glades Missouri 
 
 drains, 
 Build their teepees far in Britain and their lodges 'long 
 
 the Platte, 
 While professing peace and friendship ravage like the 
 
 mountain-cat ; 
 With deep regret the chieftain gathers his clan, to know 
 The guilty, — all are innocent, — "Sure," says the culprit, 
 
 "'twas the Crow." 
 With outward grief but secret sneer at pale-face want of 
 
 sense, 
 Rations and arms they thus secure ("poor lambs!") for 
 
 self-defence ! 
 
 Then, basely, from the council, they revel as of old, 
 In slaughter of the ranch-men, and pilgrim seeking gold; 
 The Crow and the Shoshone, and the treaty still sustain, 
 As firmly binding others, while they its terms disdain ; 
 Their gorgeous tents and teepees loom grander every day ; 
 With reservation plunder, or from murder on the way, — 
 To lairs beyond the prairies, far o'er the sterile plains, 
 Amid the rolling coteaus the mighty Big-Horn drains, 
 Along a smiling valley beneath a rocky crest, 
 Where Sioux squaw and warrior in teepees seemed at rest ; 
 When Custer from the Rose-Bud, adown a streamlet came, 
 Not scouting well for ambush, but boldly seeking fame, 
 And rashly scattering warriors, which united were too few, 
 Charged fearless 'mid the teepees where leaden arrows 
 
 flew. 
 Grim smiled the taurine chieftain, as the war-whoop in 
 
 the vale 
 Shrill, knelled the fate of Custer, and his. country left to 
 
 wail ! 
 
THE CAL-U-MET OF THE COTEAU. 
 
 35 
 
 Oh, chosen lair of ambush ! oh, fatal charge of braves ! 
 No mercy for the living, and for the dead no graves ! 
 For vain were deeds of daring, 'mid countless hosts of foes 
 Commingled in the torrent which red with carnage flows, — 
 Or on the coteau struggling for victory or retreat, 
 With sword and carbine opening a route through pintos 
 
 fleet, — 
 'Mid lasso, lance, and hatchet, the conflict soon is o'er, 
 In slaughter of our vet'rans who foe shall meet no more ! 
 And when the evening shadows would hide the scene of 
 
 shame, 
 Bright gleams the knife and hatchet by blazing teepee's 
 
 flame ; 
 \nd fiends with reeking trophies, each marred with bloody 
 
 stain, 
 Arrayed in gory garments and tresses of the slain, 
 With shout and strut and swagger and screeching ambush 
 
 yell, 
 Mimic the groans of dying, on scenes of scalping dwell, 
 Till hungry ghouls grow eager, and venom, conquering 
 
 age, 
 Joins plumed and plumeless savages in revelry and rage, — 
 Each boasting of his glory in daring days of yore, — 
 While painting for the war-trail fresh butchery aiid gore. 
 
 And now from our legend a moment refrain, 
 
 In this valley to linger o'er dust of the slain, 
 
 22 And 'mid the wild roses with carnage once red, 
 
 Oh ! chant for our heroes the " Dirge of the Dead," — 
 
 These heroes whose duties were finished too soon, 
 
 Rosy morning of promise beclouded ere noon ; 
 
 When the steed and his rider vain struggled for shore 
 
 At the ford, where the torrent ran purple with gore ; 
 
36 THE CAL-U-MET OE THE COTEAU. 
 
 From that dark cloud of battle, red field of the slain, 
 
 Sad tidings reach kindred, fond hoping in vain ; 
 
 May each mourning parent thank God for a son, 
 
 Whose troth to his country is faithfully done ! 
 
 23 On the crest of the coteau once crimson with gore, 
 
 Oh, gather our heroes ! their battles are o'er, 
 
 And the "long roll and rally' 7 shall rouse them no more ! 
 
 Soft zephyrs sweet whisper their sighs o'er the plain ; 
 " Revered by our country, not fallen in vain, 
 Though moulder our ashes and lowly each bed, 
 'Tis only life's casket which sleeps with the dead ; 
 Our spirits are basking afar from the grave, 
 In bowers of Eden awaiting the brave, 
 Where the warrior with hatchet ne'er enters for gore ; 
 For caPmets of purple are smoked as of yore, 
 With friends and with comrades in bliss evermore. 
 
 When from such feast these demons, begrimed with paint 
 
 and gore, 
 Leave wolves to finish revel, and hasten after more ; 
 24 Nor bold as men of courage 'gainst remnant on the hill, 
 But prowling 'long the border, the innocent to kill; 
 As vultures scent the carrion, each teepee of the brood 
 Along the trail to slaughter swarms forth its whelps of 
 
 blood ! 
 The bold, thrifty yeoman seeks wealth in the West, 
 The mate of his bosom a dove from its nest ; 
 Through deserts and dangers they suffer and roam, 
 Till in sweet sheltered valley they make them a home ; 
 Soon neighbors build round them, all labor in peace, 
 Till of strength over-conscious does vigilance cease. 
 
38 THE CAL-U-MET OF THE CO TEA U. 
 
 Bestride his fleet pinto, over mountain and glen, 
 Rides the proud Sioux chieftain unto rapine again, 
 With ghouls from the slaughter of our Custer and men, 
 And whelps from their kennels in each valley and glen, 
 From the crests of the mountains white glist'ning in snow, 
 These friends scan this Eden all-enchanting below ; 
 In darkness descending, — fitting season of crime, — 
 While the orb of the evening refuses to shine, 
 Like the scream of the eagle o'er the nest of the dove 
 Is the war-whoop of savage in the valley of love ; 
 Like true painted demons, naught is sacred they find, — 
 Happy homes are before them, smoking ruins behind. 
 
 But the sword of vengeance tardy, erst gleaming o'er the 
 
 brood 
 Of the Eagle and Cay-ou-ta, must now be drenched in 
 
 blood 
 Drawn forth for that of pilgrims upon the coteau slain, — 
 Mercy's plea from innocence, be now as then in vain. 
 From the coteaus of Wy-o-ming and Co-lo-ra-do's plains 
 To Sas-ka-sha-an foaming, that Britain's forest drains; 
 25 From the fairy Min-ne-ha-ha and lover's wailing strand 
 To snowy mountains tow* ring athwart the Wonder-Land, 
 Revel their Indian neighbors; none their fate bemoan ; 
 The children reap the harvest by cruel parents sown. 
 In gory banquet reeking sinks warrior, maid, and child, 
 'Mid blazing tents and teepees, by revelry defiled ; 
 Swells one loud wail of agony from sea of flame and gore, 
 Like scream of dying eagle, then silence evermore ! 
 
 Long the spirit of the Wa-kon fond hovered o'er her race, 
 Then from a land of horrors she eastward turns her face, 
 To view on sacred coteau the cal-u-met smoked again 
 In happy homes of comfort, 'mid golden fields of grain. 
 
 
 
THE CAL-U-MET OF THE CO TEA U. 39 
 
 The dwellers there a people, though pale-face to the view, 
 In love and kindness living, oh, cheering vision new ! 
 High soaring, long she views them: "oh, happy people 
 
 blest, 
 Who mingle love and valor, anew I'll build my nest, 
 And in memory of War-Eagle, as in the days of old, 
 Ere by Min-ne-wa-kan captured and to the Long-Knife 
 
 sold, 
 26 On the banners of this people let his pinions soar above 
 With my maiden's cap of Justice, of Liberty, and Love !" 
 
=7 THE GOBLIN-LAND. 
 
 Oh, know ye the legend, when waves of the sea 
 Deep rolled o'er the summits of mountains to be, 
 Which slowly but surely upheaved from below, 
 Rose taller and broader, till crested with snow, 
 And bubble-like bursting in throes to go higher, 
 Were sheeted in lava, in sulphur and fire ? 
 And fierce was the conflict, and fearful the roar 
 Of cold lashing surf on a seething hot shore, 
 Charge of seas on a land they should swallow no more. 
 
 Long, long roll the ages, and cold the cliffs grow, 
 Cloud-hidden their summits, grove-dotted below ; 
 Wear prairies and coteaus bright carpets of green, 
 And streamlets enchanting meander between ; 
 And forests majestic, and vine-trellised bowers, 
 Fringe glens as of Eden, all brilliant with flowers, 
 With roses and daisies, and pale elenore, 
 Whose nectar the honey-bees gather in store 
 For banquets of gods when the summer is o'er. 
 
 There finny forms sparkle like gems in the rills, 
 And elk with broad antlers proud stalk o'er the hills; 
 The goat and the big-horn high trail in the snow, 
 The deer and the bison in green vales below ; 
 28 The black eagle soars round the pinnacle high 
 Till a wild lamb perceiving, as a bolt from the sky, 
 In his talons quick bears him for a feast in the glade, 
 40 
 
THE GOBLIN-LAND. 
 
 41 
 
 Near the lion low crouching, whose dinner is made 
 Of victor and victim, in tanglewood shade. 
 
 In broad slimy marshes leviathans roar, 
 
 And mermaids are combing their locks by the shore ; 
 
 Full deep in green waters the coral reefs form, 
 
 Till palm-shaded islets defy the wild storm ; 
 
 And sharks, ever famished and eager for prey, 
 
 Devour with their victims the monsters who slay ; 
 
 While o'er the broad ocean the albatross sails, 
 
 'Mid porpoise and dolphins and loud-spouting whales, 
 
 And sea-birds, foam-skimming, exult in the gales. 
 
 29 Then man, hairy giant, strode forth in his might, 
 
 Erect like his Maker, with knowledge of right ; 
 
 Inventor of weapons, first builder of fire, 
 
 Lone trader of trophies, with soul to soar higher ; 
 
 Loin-girded, else naked, majestic in form, 
 
 With mate and their offspring cave-sheltered from storm; 
 
 Terrific his combats with lion and bear, 
 
 For food and for shelter, in glen or in lair ; 
 
 But tusk, claw, and talons, and instincts are vain 
 
 'Gainst man and his weapons, on ocean or plain ; 
 
 For man, as his birthright, was destined to reign. 
 
 Ages on ages have circled and fled, 
 
 And countless the heroes who sleep with the dead ; 
 
 Earth teems with the mfllions unnumbered of men ; 
 
 Fish, beasts, birds, and reptiles crowd sea, sky, and glen ; 
 
 But man is polluted, and woman is vile, 
 
 With beasts, birds, and serpents commingling in guile ; 
 
 And monsters all hideous, in form and in lust, 
 
 Stalk forth in the forests, or crawl in the dust, — 
 
 Earth is ripe for God's vengeance of fire 'neath its crust. 
 
42 
 
 THE GOBLIN-LAND. 
 
 As evening's low murmurs from storm-cloud afar 
 
 Grow louder, till thunder the heavens ajar, 
 
 So moanings, half-smothered, in womb of the Earth, 
 
 In wailing and trembling, like travail of birth, 
 
 Grow louder and fiercer, till the thin crust is rent, 
 
 And lava all seething in billows finds vent. 
 
 In vain guilty mortals their revels bewail ; 
 
 Too late, — prayers for mercy are waft on the gale ; 
 
 Unheeded the howling of monsters in pain ; 
 
 God's vengeance, outpouring, rolls over the plain ! 
 
 Like harlots of Sodom, all revelled in sin, 
 
 Gomorrahs of brimstone are walling them in ; 
 
 Commingled in matrix of slime, which encase 
 
 30 Men, mermaids, and monsters, each sphinx-like in 
 
 place, 
 And mountains hurled o'er them, from Heaven hides 
 
 trace. 
 
 Unnumbered the circles of sun and of stars ; 
 Terrific the earthquakes, and fearful their scars ; 
 And tempests, fierce howling, of hail and of snow, 
 And frosts, all eroding, hurl fragments below, 
 Unearthing each monster, each reptile and beast, 
 Nude vixen and warrior gigantic, at feast, 
 Where guests are stone-visaged, all lifeless and cold \ 
 Side-dishes, shell-fossils, as glistening as gold, 
 And viands, charred remnants of comrades of old. 
 
 Still deeper eroded the labyrinths grow, 
 
 And taller the Goblins, with helmets of snow. 
 
 Proud o'er them the eagle, with undazzled eye, 
 
 Scans sheep on the snow-fields, then swoops from the sky; 
 
 The goat and the big-horn there covert oft finds 
 
 In archways of grottos, where the moaning of winds 
 

 
 7 
 
 ^^sp^Si^i 
 
 
 THE GOBLIN LABYRINTHS. 
 
44 THE GOBLIN-LAND. 
 
 Are requiems chanting, sharp, changing, and low, 
 
 Of Hoodoos unearthly 'mid the lava's o'erflow. 
 
 31 And men of the mountains, of Sheep-Eater band, 
 
 Of game and of plunder make sacrifice grand 
 
 To monster stone-gods in the weird " Goblin-Land." 
 
 
THE MYSTIC LAKE OF WONDER-LAND. 
 
 I sing of lake, of rippling rills, 
 Of sunny streams from snowy hills ; 
 Of hissing pools with sulphur tide, 
 In gulches deeper far than wide ; 
 Of foaming falls in canon grand, 
 The Mystic Lake of Wonder-Land. 
 
 For here, begirt with mountain-chains, 
 Snow-clad mist-clouds hide grassy plains ; 
 'Mid terraced slopes, pine-clad and green, 
 Reflected bright on emerald sheen, 
 Of bosom thine, 'neath turret high, 
 Bright-blending water, earth, and sky. 
 
 Thus seen in quiet summer's eve, 
 Eden it seems with naught to grieve ; 
 But howling storms and piercing wails 
 Come with autumnal frosts and gales ; 
 32 And chilling blasts resistless come 
 Adown thy fingers, palm, and thumb. 
 
 Oh, have I not in trying hour, 
 In craft too frail bewailed thy power? 
 With bending mast and rending sail, 
 And dashing wave o'er icy rail, 
 And foaming surf on rocky strand, 
 To shores of ice on mystic hand ? 
 
 45 
 
46 THE MYSTIC LAKE OF WONDER-LAND. 
 
 Oh, night of horrors ! on that shore, 
 
 When fire and surf discordant roar, 
 
 And timber, tempest-reft and rove, 
 
 Hurled all ablaze up terraced grove, 
 
 And sparks, and snow, and smoke, and sleet 
 
 In angry circles waltzing meet, 
 
 33 No tent can stand, no blanket save 
 From biting blasts that round us rave ; 
 With sleepless eyes, compelled to turn, — 
 One side to freeze, the other burn,— 
 We sigh for prayers of friends afar, 
 And long for laggard morning-star. 
 
 The storm is past, and azure skies 
 The orb of morn greet at its rise ; 
 Soon warming rays dispel the gloom 
 That o'er our senses hung like doom, 
 And joyous hopes and buoyant tread 
 Gild halos bright o'er horrors fled. 
 
 Meanwhile, at dawn, on sullen shore, 
 With gravel filled and frozen o'er, 
 Our bark we found thus saved from wreck, 
 Keel-crushed, but firm her sides and deck ; 
 And quick, with tools and comrades true, 
 In surf the frozen cobbles threw. 
 
 Her hold we bailed with battered pail, 
 Her keel repaired, unfurled her sail ; 
 Our light stores shipped and rifles true, 
 Our rations short, and daring crew : 
 And, thankful for such lovely day, 
 With gentle breeze sailed up the bay. 
 
THE MYSTIC LAKE OF WONDER-LAND. 47 
 
 But time were short to here relate 
 Our voyage o'er finger, thumb, or strait ; 
 Round charming isle, o'er mystic hand, 
 To Indian cove, and thankful land, — 
 Then once again our steeds bestride, 
 And proudly o'er the meadows ride. 
 
 And here by lonely rill I find — 
 
 Sad trace of race to pale-face kind, 
 
 But feeble, few, and shy of men — 
 
 A wick-e-up of brush in glen, 
 
 And (blanket-robed for want of grave), 
 
 Last of his band, " Sheep-Eater" brave. 
 
 And now I pause and sadly think 
 Of cruel scenes ne'er traced in ink ; 
 Of kindly words and acts of those 
 We curse and treat as savage foes, 
 
 34 Yet practice crimes that dark disgrace 
 Our Christian creed and bearded race. 
 
 Thus pensive, wandering o'er the strand, 
 
 35 Vases and urns from nature's hand, 
 Saucers and cups from hidden graves, 
 I see come rolling with the waves, 
 And marvel how a cause unknown 
 Could fashion neat such forms of stone ! 
 
 Again, I view along the shore 
 Hot rills from hissing geysers pour, 
 
 36 And finny forms beneath the wave 
 For angler's bait hot current brave, 
 To find, alas ! like human fool, 
 
 A barb concealed and seething pool. 
 
48 THE MYSTIC LAKE OF WONDER-LAND. 
 
 Again, a rill from melting snows 
 Adown thy turfy terrace flows, 
 To foam in sulphur pool as hot 
 As Sodom's slime in days of Lot ! 
 
 37 And thence from nauseous hissing rill 
 Sweet flow'ry vale with poisons fill. 
 
 38 And islands thine, rock-ribbed and high, 
 With snowy crests amid the sky : 
 Inverted, mirrored 'neath the waves, 
 Seem isles to greet 'mid islands' graves; 
 And sylvan forms in fossil groves, 
 
 With vanished friends renew their loves. 
 
 Amid the mists of years to come, 
 With bunting, viol, harp, and drum, 
 Shall steamer proudly on her way, 
 Or safely moored in cove or bay, 
 Bear artist, poet, priest, and seer, 
 And ladies, ever smiling near. 
 
 And will they know or care for those 
 
 Who coasted capes through mists and snows? 
 
 Or pressed proud mountain-peaks to scale, 
 
 In summer storms or winter's gale? 
 
 And unknown islands wisely chose 
 
 As safe retreat from savage foes ? 
 
 And oft, perchance, on island here, 
 With panther's tread pursued the deer 
 Or big-horn on the crests of snow, 
 Or grizzlies in the glens below, — 
 
 39 For food their flesh, for hunting-shirt, 
 Their vacant coat with belt begirt? 
 
THE MYSTIC LAKE OF WONDER-LAND. 49 
 
 And will they dream that garb so wild 
 Screened men of worth, refined and mild ? 
 With sense to feel, with souls to love, 
 A lion's courage, hearts of dove, 
 Whose plans of life, if understood, 
 Were " suffer self for others' good" ? 
 
 My voyage is o'er, its duties done, 
 This crystal shore my praise has won ; 
 In other lands be mine to meet 
 Such golden sands and islands sweet, 
 And free from pelting storms of snow, 
 Ne'er scorching pits of sulphur know ! 
 A long farewell, — I leave thy strand, — 
 Oh, "Mystic Lake" of "Wonder-Land!" 
 
THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. 
 
 In a smiling eastern valley, where the zephyrs dance and 
 dally, 
 Dwelt a maiden fair and blooming, and a yeoman tall 
 and bold ; 
 Tender were the tears of parting of these lovers at his 
 starting 
 O'er the prairies and the coteaus, in his pilgrimage for 
 gold. 
 
 For she dwells in halls ( of splendor, where the heirs of 
 wealth attend her, 
 And her mother, sire, and brother seek with them 
 alliance grand ; 
 But her plighted troth is given, pure, and registered in 
 heaven, 
 That her lover, heir of labor, she'll await from golden 
 land. 
 
 "Love," he lisps, with eyelids quivering, "cease, oh, 
 cease thy fears and grieving ; 
 Hope will sweeten toil and danger of thy lover far 
 away ; 
 Who, with glittering gems the rarest, and of mountain 
 flowers the fairest, 
 Bright will render this thy chamber, as for him thou 
 kneel'st to pray." 
 5o 
 
THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. 
 
 51 
 
 In a vale of crystal fountains, deep amid the snowy 
 mountains, 
 Dwelt this toiler of the placer and this trailer of the 
 deer; 
 And, although the painted savage ever lurked to slay and 
 ravage, 
 Still this ranger braved the danger with a soul that 
 scoffed at fear. 
 
 For the mountain zephyrs laden whisper cheering words 
 of maiden : 
 " In my bosom ever loving dwell thy gems, and in my 
 hair 
 Cluster wreaths of brilliant flowers, gathered in thy 
 mountain bowers, 
 And at even soars to heaven, for thy safety, fervent 
 prayer." 
 
 Yet the wintry storms are dreary, and the trusting heart 
 grows weary, 
 When in waning moons no tidings thrill that loving 
 breast so pure ; 
 And within her home of splendor pride and fashion still 
 attend her, 
 And a courtly suitor wealthy seeks that love-lorn heart 
 to cure. 
 
 Then from far-off lands came tidings of terrific war and 
 fightings, 
 By the fountains of the mountains, where the daring 
 miners dwell ; 
 Doleful dark-line pages filling scenes of death and valor 
 thrilling, 
 And a yeoman, slaughtering foeman, last and noblest 
 of them, fell. 
 
5 2 THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. 
 
 Not in words untimely spoken, but with loving heart- 
 strings broken, 
 Pales the maiden's cheeks so blooming, and in ago- 
 nizing moan, 
 Heeding not the guests of splendor, nor her friends' 
 consolings tender, 
 Faintly throbbing, sinking sobbing, bursts her cry, 
 " Alone! alone!" 
 
 Days are come and nights are banished, moons have 
 waxed, and waned, and vanished, 
 When a spectre from that chamber, pale and trembling, 
 thin and wan, 
 On the arm of loving mother, and beside a tender brother, 
 Slow, but eager, seeks the parlor, all to greet her lover 
 gone. 
 
 " Comes he not?" she sighs in anguish; " for his greet- 
 ing clasp I languish." 
 " Oh, my Charlie, waits your Laurie, with the gems 
 you sent afar. 
 Dwell you still beside the fountains, toiling 'mid the 
 snowy mountains? 
 Here I'll meet you, soon I'll greet you, or I'll wander 
 where you are." 
 
 Lost were all their arts of cheering, kindly words and 
 acts endearing ; 
 Only lover, daring rover, would her wandering dreams 
 reveal ; 
 All his bold, unselfish daring, all its fruits with Laurie 
 sharing, 
 And her cheering his appearing, could her clouded 
 senses feel. 
 
THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. 
 
 S3 
 
 Fades the fever, slowly burning, tinged the cheek with 
 health returning, 
 And her vision, conquering reason, on its throne is 
 crowned again ; 
 When the vesper chimes are pealing, faintly through the 
 twilight stealing, 
 Came the story and the glory of her daring lover slain. 
 
 Slowly rallying, health regaining, soon, alas ! with hectic 
 waning, 
 Prove the riven dart was driven to its feather in her 
 soul ; 
 And the flickering hope remaining of its earthly hope 
 retaining 
 Was a journey to some valley where the western billows 
 roll. 
 
 Needless tale jof preparation, nameless vale of destination, 
 Faithful brother, would-be lover, press their wealth and 
 tenderest care ; 
 Zephyrs from the prairie blooming, lake of brine or 
 mountain-looming, 
 Hope sustaining, health regaining, till they reach a 
 valley fair. 
 
 By a rill at eve reclining, 'neath the blooming roses 
 twining, 
 Lowly kneeling, love appealing, comes the youth, the 
 brother's friend. 
 "Hist!" she cries, "these stars in heaven witnessed my 
 betrothal given ; 
 Only Charlie will I marry, till life's pilgrimage shall 
 end." 
 
 5* 
 
54 THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. 
 
 Vain his tears, his prayers and sighing; few, but firm, 
 her words replying : 
 " While on earth, or yet in heaven, his alone my life 
 remains." 
 Rifles ringing, bullets singing, sudden death and terror 
 bringing ; 
 Lover falling — sight appalling ! — spouting gore her 
 beauty stains. 
 
 Shrill the war-whoop thrills the valley; sharp the escort's 
 answering rally ; 
 Steeds are dashing, sabres flashing, friends and foes 
 commingled fall ; 
 Lasso whirling, cruel slaying, blood-streams o'er the roses 
 playing,— 
 Daring brother, wounded lover, cheer the remnants, 
 few and small. 
 
 Hand to hand they thrust and parry, and the fainting 
 maiden carry 
 To adobe hovel lowly ; but the foe is there before. 
 Soon the swinging hatchet reeking, gleaming knife the 
 trophies seeking, 
 Demon yelling, scalp-lock swelling, witness grim the 
 fight is o'er. 
 
 Hark ! as swoop of eagles screaming, dashing steeds and 
 sabres gleaming, 
 " Rally ! rally !" shouts in valley, down the savage ride 
 and thrust ; 
 First a plumed and stalwart ranger, charging grandly, 
 scorning danger, 
 Warriors meeting, chieftain seeking, plume and bonnet 
 kiss the dust. 
 
THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. 55 
 
 Savage, ere his safety seeking, carves from slain the 
 trophy reeking ; 
 Gory chieftain, clasping maiden, — "Mine," he cries, 
 " this golden hair !" 
 Hatchet arm by blade is riven, and in breast to hilt is 
 driven, 
 By the stranger belted ranger, whose arm sustains the 
 sinking fair. 
 
 Heeds he not the dying rattle, savage chief, or shout of 
 battle, 
 Only seeing maiden clinging to his breast for refuge 
 given. 
 Beaming eyes again are meeting, loving lips again are 
 greeting,— 
 "Oh, my Charlie!" — "Darling Laurie!" — met on 
 earth instead of heaven. 
 
 Oh, that stalwart brave is quivering, and in Laurie's arms 
 is sinking, 
 For an arrow to its feather, vile, has pierced that 
 manly form. 
 "Laurie, love, we've met and parted," faint he whispers; 
 broken-hearted, 
 Courage-nerving, maiden loving stanches crimson 
 spouting warm. 
 
 Painted brave, from hidden cover, leaps to slay the sink- 
 ing lover \ 
 All in horror, as the warrior comes, with bright and 
 deadly blade, 
 
56 
 
 THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. 
 
 In her robes of maiden, loving, glares she as a warrior 
 daring; 
 On he dashes — pistol flashes — chieftain at her feet is 
 laid ! 
 
 
 ..'■-■ 
 
 
 mgwiv'A 
 
 THE DARING MAIDEN. 
 
 Quick she rends the shirt of leather, quick withdraws the 
 cruel feather, — 
 "Tis your Laurie, oh, my Charlie !" — on his lips hei 
 kisses pours ; 
 Then with silken bandage holy, through the rents of 
 buckskin lowly, 
 Checks the ebbing tide of crimson, and the sinking 
 life restores. 
 
THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. 57 
 
 When the bloody fray was over, and the dead they needs 
 must cover, 
 Found the brother dead, but lover, scalped and gory, 
 lingering still : 
 "Die I cannot ere confessing crime my guilty soul dis- 
 tressing, — 
 Listen, Charlie! pardon, Laurie!" thus his moaning 
 accents thrill. 
 
 " Laurie, when I watched thy chamber, missive came 
 from mountain ranger; 
 I, in envy, love, and frenzy, took and bore it to my 
 room ; 
 Well I knew the manly writing proof he lived, and hence 
 the blighting 
 Of my planning, guile, and cunning, and defeat my 
 certain doom. 
 
 "Villain ! then I read the story of his daring deeds and 
 glory: 
 How the savage slay and ravage, how from gaping 
 wounds he fell ; 
 But amidst the yells appalling he escaped by crafty crawl- 
 ing ; 
 Hence these thrilling pages filling to the maiden loved 
 so well. 
 
 "Then with love and envy swelling, perjured soul to 
 Satan selling, 
 I as brother kind and tender told in strains of fondest 
 love 
 Tale of sickness short and trying, Laurie's love, and 
 peaceful dying, 
 And to lover message tender that in bliss they'd meet 
 above. 
 
5 8 THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. 
 
 " From that hour I writhed in torture, with grinning 
 fiends will be my future, 
 Un forgiven, cursed of heaven !" words his last amidst 
 his groans ; 
 Startled lovers, backward scanning, see the web of demons 
 planning, 
 And, forgiving, leave the erring with the God who sin 
 atones. 
 
 Days have come and weeks are ended, moons have waned 
 and years have blended ; 
 In a valley pilgrims dally, 'mid the field of love and 
 gore, 
 On a marble shaft ascending names of fallen ones are 
 blending ; 
 Fading echoes from the vespers thrill the tendrils 
 
 And a stately mansion looming, in that vale of roses 
 blooming, 
 Chariots mowing, vintage flowing, o'er uncounted 
 leagues of land, 
 While a matron bland and comely, and a statesman grand 
 and courtly, 
 With their children tall and blooming, greet their 
 guests with welcome grand. 
 
 Painting, bright as wealth can render, portray in that 
 hall of splendor 
 Belted yeoman facing foeman, hatchet raised in deadly 
 strife ; 
 Tall and lovely maiden clinging, 'neath a reeking hatchet 
 swinging 
 O'er her brother, to her lover Heaven's vengeance 
 guides his knife ! 
 
THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. 59 
 
 And upon the lofty ceiling, painted with historic feeling, 
 Gory chieftain, lovely maiden, wounded ranger faint 
 between 
 Chief, from pistol-muzzle reeling, maiden o'er her lover 
 kneeling, 
 Crimson stanching, without blanching, real as in life 
 are seen. 
 
GALLANT CHARLEY REYNOLDS. 
 
 40 OnVje the chosen scout of Stanley, 
 
 Often Ludlow's mountain guide, 
 Then with me erst true and manly, — 
 
 Thou who with our Custer died ! 
 Over all the Big-horn Mountains, 
 
 And beside the coteau's cone, 
 'Mid Missouri's geyser fountains, 
 
 And along the Yellowstone. 
 
 Kind and cheerful was thy bearing, 
 
 Firm and martial was thy tread ; 
 First amongst the brave and daring 
 
 Art thou numbered with the dead. 
 Bravely thou, with Reno valiant, 
 
 And with crafty Bloody-Knife, 
 In the front of charge most gallant, 
 
 O'er the ford of bloody strife. 
 
 Fearless when thy steed was falling, 
 
 Hatchet hewn, and pierced by lance ; 
 'Mid the flood and foe appalling, 
 
 Demon-like was thy advance ! 
 Pistol puff and ring of rifle, 
 
 Flashing knife and hatchet gleam ; 
 Reeking scalp and sinking stifle, 
 
 Dying yell in dashing stream ! 
 60 
 
GALLANT CHARLEY REYNOLDS. 6 1 
 
 Ghastly strewing fast around thee 
 
 Painted braves and plumes of those 
 Thy carbine slaughtered, still surround thee 
 
 Circling hordes of yelling foes. 
 All in vain were deeds of daring, 
 
 All too swift and sad thy doom ! 
 Earth's last view was savage glaring, — 
 
 The encrimsoned stream thy tomb ! 
 
 Stricken in thy youth and beauty, 
 
 Sadly stricken ere thy prime ; 
 Fallen at the ford of duty, 
 
 Lo ! an honored name is thine ! 
 Charley ! may the foe who slew thee 
 
 Ever bear a tainted name ! 
 Reynolds ! all the friends who knew thee 
 
 Shall award thee lofty fame ! 
 
 Peaceful home has me delivered 
 
 From the fate that war attends ; 
 Desert flowers have bloomed and withered 
 
 O'er the bones of mountain friends • 
 Sternly fate — not of our choosing — 
 
 Severs us forever here ; 
 Sadly thus, with memory musing, 
 
 Darkly fades the fated year ! 
 
 Other friends along that river 
 Fought and fell to rise no more, 
 
 Yielding their souls to God, the Giver, 
 When the deadly strife was o'er ; 
 6 
 
62 GALLANT CHARLEY REYNOLDS. 
 
 When along the Yellowstone 
 Peace and happiness shall reign 
 
 O'er gory fields both lost and won, 
 None shall say they died in vain. 
 
 Can daring deeds of human hand 
 
 Save the soul beyond the grave? 
 And are there in that spirit-land 
 
 Mansions for the true and brave? 
 Oh, God of justice, but of love, 
 
 Judge them by their deeds and light ! 
 And in thy blissful home above 
 
 Grant them garlands at thy right ! 
 
41 PILGRIMS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 A band of modern pilgrims went prospecting for gold, 
 And rode or drove their horses as in the days of old ; 
 The Mississippi and Missouri obstruct their path in vain, 
 And they pioneer' d the railway in roving o'er the plain. 
 
 The Platte they left at Laramie, with visions bright of 
 
 mines 
 Amid the Big-horn Mountains or gulches dark with pines, 
 And placers in the canons, or charming hills and dales, 
 For peaceful homes of plenty amid the fertile vales. 
 
 Then 'long the beauteous coteau, rolling like the waves, 
 'Mid bison, elk, and antelope, and, often, Indian braves; 
 The first they chased to slaughter, the latter chased to 
 
 slay: 
 Sometimes they were pursuers, but oft pursued were they. 
 
 Through ever-changing fortune, with caution, dash, and 
 
 arms, 
 They passed the Cactus Desert and the Indian's fierce 
 
 alarms ; 
 Then mountain above terrace beside their trail arose, — 
 In the last a rocky canon, on the first eternal snows. 
 
 Fountains, -bright sunny fountains, dispel their thirsty 
 
 fears ; 
 Mountains, oh, snowy mountains, loud they greet with 
 
 cheers ! 
 
 63 
 
64 PILGRIMS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 Time, toil, and patience conquer, and from the frozen 
 
 crest, 
 Deep 'mid the lava mountains, they view a park of rest. 
 
 Cedar-bordered rivulets descended from the snow, 
 Roamed countless on the pampas the shaggy buffalo ; 
 O'er all, in autumn's beauty, the mellow sunbeams 
 
 shone, — 
 A matchless vale of verdure along the Yellowstone ! 
 
 With game-trout teemed the waters, all bounteous the 
 
 soil, 
 Gold-dust in the placers, awaiting only toil 
 Of famished eastern labor, the thrifty and the bold, 
 To rear their rugged cabins and garner up the gold. 
 
 Eager adown the mountain, lured by the brilliant sheen 
 Of gushing vaUey-fountain, begirt with emerald green : 
 " Oh, here's the happy valley, this is the lovely West ; 
 Here we no longer dally, but build us homes of rest !" 
 
 But since Adam sinned in Eden, and Eve to hide their 
 
 shame 
 Of fig-leaves made them aprons, earth has ever been the 
 
 same : 
 The vales of blooming roses are beset with piercing 
 
 thorns, 
 And death is ever garnering what beauty most adorns. 
 
 Thus to our weary pilgrims peaceful the valley seems : 
 Glowing are their camp-fires, sweet their golden dreams; 
 When shrill the war-whoop echoes ! sharp the rifle rings ! 
 Cruel pierce the arrows, high the hatchet swings ! 
 
 
PILGRIMS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 65 
 
 Vainly rouse the startled sleepers ! swift a circling gleam 
 Of scalping-knife descending, and then the dying scream ! 
 Quick wrenched is reeking trophy, — soon amid the gloom 
 Coyote fierce and famished grant the gory dead a tomb. 
 
 From that sickening scene of horror one alone e'er reached 
 
 his home, 
 Thence from rural peace and comfort naught again can 
 
 bid him roam ; 
 'Mid tales of gold in Black Hills or along the Rosebud 
 
 vale 
 Ghosts arise of friends in " Bad Lands," and of gore along 
 
 the trail. 
 
 Mothers dear and sweethearts loving awaited their return 
 
 in vain ; 
 Drear the homes and sad the kindred they'll revisit ne'er 
 
 again ; 
 Long and vain for absent loved ones were their kindred's 
 
 sighs and moans, — 
 Painted braves and dusky maidens alike deride their 
 
 bleaching bones. 
 
 But the fearful fate of Custer on the fated Little Horn 
 All too late aroused our people to uproot the Rosebud 
 
 thorn ;* 
 In the coming tramps and battles fallen friends shall we 
 
 bemoan, 
 But no peace shall greet the Sioux ere they leave the 
 
 Yellowstone. 
 
 * " Rosebud them," Sitting Bull. A Rosebud, or Un-ca-pap-pa, Sioux 
 chief. 
 
 e 6* 
 
66 PILGRIMS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 Then beside the desert coteau and the crimson Little 
 Horn, 
 
 As along the Mystic River of the spouting geyser born, 
 
 Miners wealth in peace shall gather from the placer's 
 golden sand, 
 
 Pilgrims health in joy shall garner in the lofty " Wonder- 
 Land/' 
 
CAPTIVE MAIDEN. 
 
 2 Rise, my muse, sing of a maiden 
 
 Captive on the coteau wild ; 
 Not with golden ringlets laden, 
 But tresses raven, Nature's child. 
 
 From the camp of slaughtered Cheyenne, 
 Near the crimson Custer plain, 
 
 Rode she to the border stockade, 
 Weeping in the captive train. 
 
 Long she looked and sighed for lover, 
 Chieftain of a mountain band, 
 
 First in fight, and last to hover 
 On trail of foe in native land. 
 
 But her longing eyes grew weary, 
 And her loving heart grew faint, 
 
 In a prison, chill and dreary, r 
 Child of freedom in restraint. 
 
 When her kindred yield to capture, 
 Weary of the scourge of war, 
 
 Glows her cheek and form with rapture 
 At chieftain's totem from afar. 
 
 67 
 
68 CAPTIVE MAIDEN. 
 
 Proud he stood amid the warriors, 
 
 In the glare of council fire ; 
 "First," quoth he, "release my maiden, 
 
 Or you shall feel my ire. 
 
 "I, of mountain clan the chieftain, 
 
 I in freedom chose a mate : 
 Only free she'll wed War-Eagle, 
 
 Be it life or death, my fate." 
 
 "Trail your totem, yield your pinto, 
 
 Quick disarm your warriors all ; 
 "Mine be teepee," says the pale-face, 
 " And upon our mercy call." 
 
 "This," quoth the chief, "to me, a warrior? 
 
 I disarm ? — be squaw and slave ? — 
 Teepee for friend, for foeman hatchet, — 
 
 From his war-horse dies the brave." 
 
 War-whoop shrill, and mounted warriors, 
 Lance and plume, bedeck the plain ; 
 
 Fierce the onset, long the struggle, 
 The maid to save, — alas ! in vain. 
 
 Saw the morning carnage ghastly, — 
 
 Gory harvest on the plain ; 
 Blanket-strewed and bullet-furrowed, 
 
 Desert moistened, not by rain. 
 
 Gone the chieftain, gone the remnant 
 Of his warriors, faint and few; 
 
 In court of prison slept the maiden, — 
 Moist her tresses, not with dew. 
 
CAPTIVE MAIDEN. 
 
 Vain had been her pray'r for freedom ; 
 
 Guard and bay' net barr'd the door : 
 " This will open gate to prison, — 
 
 Moulder clay and spirit soar." 
 
 Thus she speaks ; then, tall and stately, 
 Bares her bosom, looks above : 
 
 " God of red-man, — oh, Man-i-tou ! 
 Thus I come, a bride of love." 
 
 Quick as swoop of mountain-eagle 
 Heart is pierced by blade in hand ; 
 
 Marks the rill of gushing crimson, 
 Freedom's trail to Spirit-land. 
 
 6 9 
 
THE WONDER-LAND. 
 
 Ho, ye pilgrims, seeking pleasure, 
 
 Or for health in vain, 
 Listen to me, while I truly 
 
 Tell where both to gain. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 'Mid encircling snowy mountains, 
 
 Falls and canons grand, 
 Bathing-pools and spouting fountains, 
 
 Of the " Wonder-Land." 
 
 There, enraptured, have I wandered 
 Through the glades and dells, 
 
 Where the big-horn, elk, and beaver 
 Each in freedom dwells. 
 
 Where the azure pools of healing 
 
 Terrace from the snow, 
 Like a glist'ning cascade frozen, 
 
 To the glens below. 
 
 Where the spray from spouting fountains 
 
 Forms a halo crest, 
 Looming up the snowy mountains 
 
 Rainbows where they rest. 
 70 
 
THE WONDER-LAND. 
 
 Where the halo's quivering shadows, 
 
 O'er the Triple Falls, 
 Tint the canon, where wild waters 
 
 Echo 'long its walls. 
 
 Where the swan with snowy plumage, 
 
 Brant, and crested drake, 
 O'er the yellow trout and speckled, 
 
 Skim the crystal lake. 
 
 Where the screams of mountain-lion 
 
 Pierce the midnight air, 
 Like the fabled Indian warrior 
 
 Wailing in despair. 
 
 Where the moose and curly bison, 
 
 Monarchs of the glades, 
 Like the mammoth loom in roaming 
 
 'Mid the twilight shade. 
 
 Where the ancient forests vernal, 
 
 Now in lava cased, 
 Matchless opal, crystal caskets, 
 
 Ruthless are defaced. 
 
 Where thin-crusted earth seems bending 
 
 From the fires below, 
 Threat'ning, as of old, the rending 
 
 And lava overflow. 
 
 Where the bowers of Eden, blooming 
 
 'Mid the glens of earth, 
 Nestle, 'neath fierce tempests howling, 
 
 Like creation's birth. 
 
 V 
 
72 THE WONDER-LAND. 
 
 Where on earth are matchless blended 
 Vernal flowers and snow, 
 
 Eden glens and glens of sulphur, 
 Elysium and woe. 
 
 43 Oh, for wisdom in the councils 
 Of our nation great, 
 To protect these matchless wonders 
 From a ruthless fate ! 
 
BOLD HERO OF THE BORDER. 
 (gen. nelson d. miles.) 
 
 Born in the land of Pilgrims, beside its granite shore, 
 Thy lullaby of freedom the waves unfettered roar, 
 And, rearing as a yeoman, amid its Northern vales, 
 Thy heart defends thy country when Southern foe assails; 
 And youthful form waxed stalwart thy trusty sword to 
 
 wield, 
 In craggy pass of mountain or crimson sulphur field, 
 Till loyal hosts in triumph forced treason's clans to yield. 
 
 On furlough brief from battle, thy eager soul did burn 
 To abler serve thy country and worthy laurels earn ; 
 Then o'er the distant prairies and sterile thorny plains, 
 Amid the rolling coteau the Mystic River drains, 
 The wild terrific gulches and snowy mountain-crest, 
 The war-trail of the savage thy daring footsteps pressed, 
 Bold hero of the border, by all its people blest. 
 
 The bold Nez-Perce chieftain, from valley of the West, 
 Descending to the coteau from snowy mountain-crest, 
 Safe crossed the Mystic River, and then Missouri's wave, 
 The matchless mountain trailer, bold leader of the brave, 
 44 In lair of hidden gulches, in Woody Mountain wilds, 
 On Crow and Ree and Sturgis in proud derision smiles, 
 Yet found on trail to Britain just one too many " Miles." 
 
 For then by matchless marching o'er desert pass and plain, 
 And floods of mighty rivers which snowy mountains drain, 
 d 7 73 
 
74 
 
 BOLD HERO OF THE BORDER. 
 
 Like phalanx of the Grecian, thou led'st thy vet 'ran band* 
 Where conflicts are decided in struggle hand to hand ; 
 For there with sword and hatchet in gulch with no retreat, 
 Each with a worthy foeman who never knew defeat, 
 The Che-nook and the Eagle in final conflict meet. 
 
 Each with a prayer for loved ones; the latter's far away, — 
 The first's in coula hidden, in trembling terror lay, 
 'Mid deadly ring of rifle and scorching sulphur smoke; 
 The reeking lance and hatchet and sword's descending 
 
 stroke, 
 The chieftain's battle-rally and answering Eagle's scream, 
 Commingled coat and blanket in gushing crimson stream, 
 Till bright through storm and carnage white Che-nook 
 
 flag is seen. 
 
 45 Then came the parley herald, — no servile cringing foe, 
 But chieftain with his rifle, the victors' terms to know, 
 To save his wife and children and remnant of his band, — 
 "Surrender !" says the Eagle; "these warriors understand 
 The mercy, truth, and honor I tender fallen foe, 
 Oft taking to my service the warriors that I know !" 
 And thus the tide of crimson in mercy ceased to flow. 
 
 And now, bold border chieftain, pray listen to a friend, 
 With matchless nerve and daring may thoughts of loved 
 
 ones blend ? 
 Thy prudence, skill, and courage are themes of praise by 
 
 all, 
 And needed still by country. Beside, wert thou to fall, 
 No laurel wreath of vict'ry could cheer thy lonely home, 
 Hush widow's wails, or orphans', in this cold world alone ; 
 More cautious prove, O chieftain ! when duty calls to 
 
 roam. 
 
STALWART YEOMAN. 
 
 46 n ot from hall of the Washburns, 
 
 Who so long have honor'd Maine, 
 But lowly " Buckeye" cabin 
 
 Our stalwart yeoman came. 
 Not from classic Oberlin, 
 
 Ever in freedom's van, — 
 Self-taught, with chain and compass, 
 
 Wild border-lines he ran, 
 And from nature's God in wild wood 
 
 Well learned the rights of man. 
 
 Oh, well do I remember 
 
 The days when we were young, 
 On our shoulders trusty rifles, 
 
 And from belts sharp hatchets hung. 
 Such training made us soldiers 
 
 In freedom's darkest hour ; 
 And the confidence of comrades, 
 
 When the bloody strife was o'er, 
 Gave him the seat in Congress 
 
 Of Dan Voorhees — "Sycamore." 
 
 From the halls of legislation,* 
 
 When our duty there was done, 
 We met amid the mountains, 
 
 Far towards the setting sun. 
 
 * His duties were thus in the councils of the nation, mine in the less 
 prominent position of a member of the Legislature of Ohio. 
 
 75 
 
7 6 STALWART YEOMAN. 
 
 I trailed down the Columbia, 
 
 He traced up the Yellowstone 
 To the geysers of Wyoming 
 
 And lava canon lone, 
 Where halos lure but poison, 
 
 And turned his footsteps home 
 To distant Wabash valley, 
 
 Thence never more to roam. 
 
 Cold rest the clods of Wabash, 
 
 Piled on his patriot breast ; 
 Chill howl the storms of winter 
 
 Round Mount Washburn's rocky crest. 
 Warm glowed his form with ardor 
 
 When freedom's flag he bore ; 
 Warm thrilled his heart for loved one 
 
 'Mid the desert tempests' roar. 
 Tender their tears of greeting 
 
 When the toils of life were o'er ; 
 Sweet 'mid the bowers of Eden 
 
 May they dwell for evermore. 
 
 
GO WHERE DUTY CALLS THEE. 
 
 Go where duty calls thee, 
 Or where hope enthralls thee, 
 
 O'er mountain, lake, or glade; 
 Where the wild man roameth, 
 Or the wild wind moaneth, 
 
 Deep 'mid the forest shade; 
 Where the turtle cooing, 
 Or the bison lowing, 
 'Neath the wild storm brewing, 
 
 Would I be dear to thee ? 
 In a cavern screening 
 Thee from tempest screaming, 
 
 Wilt thou remember me ? 
 
 When by spouting fountains, 
 'Mid the snowy mountains, 
 
 In the Park of Mystery, 
 From thy couch of flowers, 
 In enchanting bowers, 
 
 Oft wilt thou sigh for me ? 
 And from halos pouring 
 O'er wild waters roaring, 
 Like proud eagle soaring, 
 
 Oh, will thy spirit free, 
 O'er white mountains looming, 
 Or bright prairies blooming, 
 
 Often revisit me? 
 
 7* 77 
 
7 8 GO WHERE DUTY CALLS THEE. 
 
 When fierce foes a legion, 
 In some lowly region, 
 
 Beleague thy mountain camp, 
 And, from watching dreary, 
 This loved form grows weary, 
 
 Cold its turfy couch and damp, 
 In thy fitful dreaming 
 Will these bright eyes beaming, 
 Or in sorrow streaming, 
 
 Like angels visit thee ? 
 All in anguish quaking, 
 From thy vision waking, 
 
 Oh, wilt thou welcome me ? 
 
 When from leaden rattle 
 Of terrific battle 
 
 Smoke hides the light of day, 
 And from hatchet gleaming 
 Crimson tide is streaming 
 
 In visions far away, 
 From the gory lying, 
 Hear the moans and sighing 
 
 Of bosom dear to thee, 
 Lisp will latest whisper 
 Dearer name than sister, 
 
 And sacred all to me? 
 
THE DYING MANDANS 
 
 Beneath the rolling coteau, 
 
 Beside the roaring flood, 
 Dwelt the race of the Man-i-tou, 
 
 Mandans of the better blood. 
 
 Their earth-lodge homes of plenty, 
 
 From tillage of the soil, 
 Enticed the Sioux robbers 
 
 To plunder and despoil. 
 
 Slaughtered amid the gardens, 
 
 And driven from the plain, 
 Smallpox among the wardens, 
 
 Missouri's bath was vain. 
 
 Death's last relentless gleaner 
 Swept maidens young and fair ; 
 
 Warriors with plume and streamer 
 Lay dying everywhere. 
 
 Where, then, were Clarke and Catlin? 
 
 Where Irving, Camp, and Stone ? 
 With Brule and smallpox battling, 
 
 • They sank and died alone ! 
 
 79 
 
80 THE DYING MANDANS. 
 
 47 Oh, ghastly scene of horror! 
 Oh, ghastly town of doom ! 
 No hope in dawn of morrow, 
 No halo 'mid the gloom. 
 
 Thus sank the Ree and Mandan, 
 No friends to cheer or save ; 
 
 Thus dying in abandon, 
 And for the dead no grave. 
 
 Long years have come and vanished, 
 Crumbling each earth-lodge home ; 
 
 Long have the remnant banished 
 Ceased o'er the site to roam. 
 
 By Little Horn's green valley — 
 Beyond the Yellowstone — 
 
 Sioux, Brule, and Teton rally, 
 The pale-face dead have strewn. 
 
 Long years again shall vanish, 
 And Custer, Cook, and Blue, — 
 
 Their honors none would banish 
 From lists of heroes true. 
 
 And Reynolds, — noble Charley, — 
 And Mandan, — Bloody-Knife, — 
 
 Who ever scorned to parley, 
 But fighting gave their life ! 
 
THE DYING TRAPPER. 
 
 Peerless the park of fountains ! 
 
 Far, oh, far below 
 Its circling crests of mountains, 
 
 Begirt with ice and snow ! 
 
 8 Hard by those spouting fountains, 
 
 Far, oh, far away ! 
 Done with his frays and scoutings, 
 A dying trapper lay : 
 
 One reared in wealth and kindness, — 
 
 Sad, oh, sad the day ! 
 When blighted love and blindness 
 
 Allured his feet astray. 
 
 Long years have come and vanished, — 
 
 Time, oh, time has flown ! 
 Since rudely scorned and banished 
 
 To tread the wilds alone. 
 
 But on that gloomy morning 
 
 Screams, oh, screams, and yells, — 
 
 Of death and ravage warning, — 
 Rang through the glades and dells ! 
 
 81 
 
$2 THE DYING TRAPPER. 
 
 Gory and scalped around him, 
 Cold, oh, cold and dead ! 
 
 Were cherished friends who bound him 
 To home and vision fled. 
 
 (.Vifcs 
 
 THE DYING TRAPPER. 
 
 Remnant soon of comrades rally, — 
 
 Few, oh, few, and sad ! 
 "Boys," he says, "dark seems the valley, 
 
 Oh, gently raise my head ! 
 
 
THE DYING TRAPPER. g$ 
 
 " Brothers, Life's crimson tide is flowing, — 
 
 Soon, oh, soon 'twill cease ! 
 Lone through canon dark I'm going 
 
 To gulch of Woe or glen of Peace. 
 
 " Comrades, long we've roamed together! 
 
 Drear, oh, drear, we part ! 
 Deadly storms scowl o'er the heather, — 
 
 Dim's the trail to Heaven's Park. 
 
 " But portrait from my bosom never 
 
 Death, oh, death, shall part ! 
 Piercing arrow does not sever, 
 
 But pinions Laura to my heart ! 
 
 " By thy beck'ning hand invited, 
 
 Love, oh, love, I come ! 
 Severed in life, — in death united, 
 
 We'll evermore be one !" 
 
BOZEMAN BOLD. 
 
 A tale of guide, who daring band 
 From Platte led safe through desert sand, 
 Wild Big-horn gulch and canon lone, 
 To mountain gate of Yellowstone ; 
 No bridge, no boat, no friend to hail, 
 And painted warriors on their trail. 
 
 Mild autumn days are waning fast, 
 Round mountain-peak howls wintry blast ; 
 For sheltered vale of Gallatin 
 Pilgrim and guide are dashing in, — 
 
 49 Bull-boat and raft, mustang and mule, 
 
 50 At war-path ford of Crow and Brule. 
 
 In rival bands last crest they scale 
 
 By Bozeman's Pass and Bridgets Trail ; 
 
 66 White men and tents/ 7 — oh, glorious sheen 
 
 Of murm'ring rill and pastures green ! 
 
 A town they plant, but wait for fame 
 
 Of daring deed to christen name. 
 
 Too soon, alas ! for ranger brave, 
 Pilgrim beleagued, on trail to save, 
 In vision bright, on coteau wild, 
 Saw sainted wife and darling child. 
 " Husband and sire, no longer roam ; 
 In morn thou' It soar to us and home." 
 84 
 
BOZEMAN BOLD, g$ 
 
 By camp-fire dim on Yellowstone 
 Spake daring guide to comrade lone : 
 " Up, comrade, up ! grasp rifle soon ! 
 Swift pinto mount, and dash from doom ! 
 Leave me to fate, my toils are o'er; 
 Soon friends I'll greet on brighter shore." 
 
 As comrade halts, kind words to say, 
 " Quick, saddle horse, and haste away ! M 
 He cries ; when lo ! adown the glen, 
 On loping steeds dash painted men. 
 With rifle poised he ready stands 
 Till spouting gore stains desert sands. 
 
 Comrade escaped, —sad tale to tell, — 
 Returning, found him as he fell. 
 Rifle and scalp, pistol and plume, 
 51 Sure, phantom-warriors caused the doom 
 Cheyenne and Crow oft tried in vain, 
 And pass and town bear Bozeman's name. 
 
THE CLOUD-CIRCLED MOUNTAINS. 
 
 52 My heart's in'the mountains, my heart's not at home; 
 
 Though here cluster blessings, I still love to roam. 
 
 My heart's with my pinto, my rifle and belt, 
 
 Where big-horn and beaver forever have dwelt. 
 
 Oh, my heart's 'mid the fountains and streamlets below 
 
 The cloud-circled mountains, white-crested with snow ! 
 
 My heart's 'mid the mirage, the lakes, and the plains, 
 The buttes and the coteaus, where wild nature reigns ; 
 My heart's 'mid the coulees and canons so grand, 
 And bright-spouting geysers of lone Wonder-Land. 
 Oh, my heart's 'mid those fountains and streamlets below 
 Those cloud-circled mountains, white-crested with snow ! 
 
 My heart's by the camp-fires of trappers so bold, 
 The tents and the teepees of warriors of old ; 
 My heart's down the river, whose torrents loud roar 
 In greeting the billows on surf-beaten shore. 
 Oh, my heart's 'mid the fountains, whence trout stream- 
 lets flow 
 'Mid cloud-circled mountains, white-crested with snow ! 
 
 My heart's in the valleys and parks of the West, 
 'Mid deer, elk, and grizzly, of all game the best. 
 Farewell to my business, farewell to my home ; 
 Adieu to my loved ones, my fate is to roam 
 7 Mid the pure crystal fountains and geysers below 
 The wild-circling mountains, white-glistening with snow. 
 86 
 
THE CLOUD-CIRCLED MOUNTAINS. 87 
 
 My heart's 'mid old forests by lava o'erthrown, 
 
 Now crystals of opal and amethyst-stone, 
 
 Chalcedony casket (for Manitou's heart), 
 
 And brilliant enamel unrivalled by art. 
 
 Oh, my heart's 'mid such caverns 'neath the lava o'erflow 
 
 From once fiery mountains, now buried in snow ! 
 
 My heart glows with ardor to gather and learn 
 
 New lessons of science, if spared to return ; 
 
 If mine be to perish, may Heaven bestow 
 
 A tomb in lone grotto deep hidden in snow ! 
 
 Oh, my heart's 'mid the fountains and grottos below 
 
 The cloud-circled mountains, white-crested with snow ! 
 
WHERE ELSE ON EARTH? 
 
 53 Where else on earth does water furnish 
 Rocky evidence so strong 
 Of its power to build and burnish, 
 As this terrace, high and long? 
 
 Chorus, 
 
 Where the peerless pools for healing 
 From their ruins 'mid the snow, 
 
 Each, with waters health restoring, 
 Terrace to the glens below. 
 
 Dim, amid the ages vanished, 
 Snowy waters laughing poured, 
 
 Through the valley, and in canon, 
 Loud, in falls and rapids, roared. 
 
 Then from womb of fires smothered 
 Broad were yawning fissures rent, 
 
 And o'er mists from seething waters 
 Rainbows ever beauteous blent. 
 
 'Twas a new creation forming, 
 Geysers, matchless at their birth ; 
 
 Round their hissing funnels building 
 Marble forms unknown to earth. 
 
 88 
 
WHERE ELSE ON EARTH? gg 
 
 In the ages slowly passing, 
 
 From these rents of hidden fire 
 Spouts the min'ral-laden waters, 
 
 Terrace ever building higher. 
 
 Till athwart the canon yawning, 
 
 Firm a rocky barrier rose, — 
 With the severed waters forming 
 
 Mountain-lake amid the snows. 
 
 54 Long its waves, by tempest driven, 
 
 Fiercely lashed its seething shore ; 
 Fire and flood in conflict fearful 
 'Mid the clouds terrific roar. 
 
 But the power ever waning 
 
 Of the smothered fire of woe 
 Left the crests with forests circled, 
 
 And new funnels formed below. 
 
 55 Then the ever-lashing billows 
 
 Rent a gap in mountain-side, 
 And the wild escaping waters 
 Carved a canon deep and wide. 
 
 Still the all-eroding waters 
 
 Undermined the crests of snow, 
 Hurling funnel, tree, and terrace, 
 
 Crushed and mingled, far below. 
 
 56 Hence these ruins weird and fearful, 
 
 And the cliffs so white and grand, 
 And these crumbling cones of geysers, 
 Still the pride of Wonder-Land. 
 
BRADLEY THE BRAVE. 
 
 57 Last of a race of warriors who served their country 
 
 well, 
 In glen of distant mountains foremost thou fighting fell ; 
 The promise of a hero, in thy maiden-march through 
 
 rain 
 In the mountains of Virginia, has proven not in vain. 
 E'en now as then I view thee expand from boy to man, 
 When the opening roar of battle first found thee in the 
 
 van, 
 Ever thy choice of duty where crimson torrents ran. 
 
 When strength of sire was sinking from suffering in the 
 
 field 
 Thy youthful arm waxed stalwart the battle-blade to 
 
 wield ; 
 In every post of duty, of danger, or of skill, 
 Matchless was thy endurance, thy iron nerve and will ; 
 Until the flag of freedom, of union, and of love, 
 O'er fiery clans of treason in triumph soared above 
 With the pinion of the eagle and the plumage of the 
 
 dove. 
 
 Then hastening to the border, thou eager sought to know 
 The hidden haunts of Blackfoot, of Sioux, and of Crow; 
 And boldly, with thy vet'rans, in craggy pass or plain, 
 Or valleys of the rivers the snowy mountains drain, 
 Thou fearless trailed the savage, the innocent to save, — 
 90 
 
BRADLEY THE BRAVE. 91 
 
 Though summer's sun is scorching or winter's tempest 
 
 rave, — 
 On all the border honored, bold leader of the brave. 
 
 But halo days are ended, and sorrow is come, 
 With the stalwart Nez-Perces from setting of sun, 
 In the vanguard of Gibbon, first flash lays thee low, 
 Still thy battle-blade clasping, firm facing the foe; 
 'Mid the heaps of slain comrades tho'rt deluged in gore, 
 Cold and stern is thy visage, — thy conflicts are o'er, 
 And the war-whoop of savage shall rouse thee no more ! 
 
 Far away art thou sleeping in silence and peace, 
 
 Friends and kindred are weeping, — in joy let them cease ; 
 
 Thy sore-stricken parents rejoice in a son, 
 
 A hero, whose laurels were gallantly won ; 
 
 Thy State and thy country in gratitude save 
 
 58 From sorrow thy loved ones, and green o'er thy grave 
 
 Twine the myrtle and laurel, O Bradley the brave ! 
 
FROM BIG-HORN'S BLEAK MOUNTAINS. 
 
 59 From Big-horn's bleak mountains white glistening with 
 
 snow, 
 The Big-horn's bright fountains through green meadows 
 
 flow, 
 Or, skipping and dashing in rapids or falls, 
 In fury loud lashing their deep canon walls ; 
 Then 'mid the long coteaus by roses o'ergrown 
 Rush its floods to their greeting the bold Yellowstone. 
 
 In all these green valleys from river to snow, 
 Where autumn long dallies, are cairns of the Crow ; 
 The harvest of battles with Rick-a-ree brave, 
 And Sioux or Blackfoot, their country to save ; 
 Where warm are the winters and countless the game 
 Of bison and "big-horn," — "wild sheep," — hence the 
 name. 
 
 But vain were all efforts with Sioux for peace ; 
 Ne'er silent was war-whoop, ne'er signal -fires cease, 
 60 Till Custer from Rosebud saw valley as sweet 
 As glens where the spirits of warriors shall meet, 
 And in his last rally, 'mid plumed crested braves, 
 Led phalanx of heroes to glory, — not graves ! 
 
 Here Bridger and Bozeman, in crusade for gold, 
 Led pilgrims and miners and mountaineers bold ; 
 92 
 
FROM BIG-HORN'S BLEAK MOUNTAINS. 93 
 
 Fierce righting the Sioux — but kind was the Crow — 
 In passes of mountains or valleys below, — 
 61 And Farrer and comrades passed safely along 
 Sweet valley, now famous for slaughter and- song. 
 
 O'er all these long coteaus, from mountain to plain, 
 In all these broad valleys that mountain floods drain, 
 Each park 'mid the forests, and each glen 'mid the snow, 
 Are dwindling the warriors, are fading the Crow ; 
 And soon shall the ploughshare of pale-face turn o'er 
 The sites of their teepees, once crimson with gore, — 
 The bones of a people who wander no more ! 
 
MYSTIC LAND. 
 
 " Oh, tell me, I pray thee, my comrade and friend, 
 
 In Mystic Land only do wonders so blend ? 
 
 Bright fountains, bleak mountains unrivalled in form, 
 
 Commingling, encircling, in sunshine and storm ; 
 
 And geysers and salses eject from below 
 
 Hot water and sulphur from regions of woe, 
 
 With moanings and groanings, like wails of the lost, 
 
 From funnels of fire encircled by frost ! 
 
 " There big-horn and bison calm graze in the glade, 
 
 Near grizzly and lion, low crouched in the shade ; 
 
 Where throbbings and Sowings of hot springs and streams 
 
 Build cascades of marble, reflecting in gleams ; 
 
 Cliff-buttressed, tall turrets, white glistening in snow, 
 
 Are mirrored in lakelets unfathomed below ; 
 
 And bendings and rendings of thin crust of earth, 
 
 In quivering convulsions, like travail of birth ; 
 
 Hot water in chaldrons by cold lake and brook, 
 
 For boiling, still floundering, live trout on the hook. 
 
 61 Where rubies bright sparkle in caskets of stone, 
 Of cedars and balsams by lava o'erflown ; 
 And crystals in grottos e'er glisten and gleam 
 In visions unrivalled save Aladdin's dream ; 
 Near caverns of sulphur as hissing and hot 
 As slime vales of Sodom in legend of Lot ; 
 94 
 
MYSTIC LAND. 95 
 
 And mist-sheen and echo, from cascades and falls, 
 With beauty and music enliven their walls ; 
 And coule and canon, deep-furrowed by time, 
 Are terraced and tinted, unique and sublime ; 
 And rainbow and halo encircle the sheen 
 Of geysers reflected in lakelets of green !" 
 
 " Hist, comrade ! I claim there is not on this earth 
 
 Its rival in beauty, in wonders, or worth ; 
 
 For surely here nature has gathered to show 
 
 In marvels commingled all mortals should know ; 
 
 Of planet formation its growth and decay, 
 
 As childhood to manhood, and fading away ; 
 
 Where ramble and romance insure from despair 
 
 The victims of sickness, of sorrow, and care, 
 
 And science, in strata, new pages unfold 
 
 Of structure and crystal in forests of old ; 
 
 Lo ! Christians, in meekness, in faith, and in love, 
 
 Seek from wonders below their Creator above. " 
 
THE GRANGER SONG. 
 
 62 Oh, my rural friend and neighbor, 
 If inclined to roam, 
 Listen to me while I truly 
 Say, Why stay at home. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Keep the farm, my rural neighbor, 
 
 Hold the plough or drive ; 
 Drain your swamps, read well, and labor. 
 
 Frugal live and thrive. 
 
 In the passing years depressing 
 
 Countless homes are sold 
 On a mortgage for a trifle, 
 
 Lost in search of gold. 
 
 Some in cities seek professions 
 
 Already overgrown ; 
 Others business all unfitting, 
 
 Now their luck bemoan. 
 
 Some the prairies and the valleys 
 
 Of the boundless West, 
 Though alluring, found deceiving, 
 
 And are sore distressed. 
 96 
 
THE GRANGER SONG. 
 
 Oh, the hunger, toil, and danger 
 
 Of the thirsty plain, 
 Or in gulches of the pilgrim, 
 
 Seeking gold in vain ! 
 
 Cold the clods and rude the coffin 
 O'er some loving breast ; 
 
 Thus unwisely, all untimely, 
 Hasten'd to his rest. 
 
 Neither mountain, gem, nor valley 
 
 Should entice to roam 
 From the blessings ever nestling 
 
 'Round an eastern home. 
 
 Oh, ye lassies, early blooming, 
 
 Harbor not the beau 
 Who is witty — more's the pity — 
 
 From the wine's o'erflow. 
 
 And ye Grangers, seeking knowledge 
 
 In our rural schools, 
 Wisely choose the yeoman college, — 
 
 'Tis no place for fools. 
 
 Long and narrow seems the furrow 
 
 As a road to wealth ; 
 Yet pursuing is insuring 
 
 Honor, home, and health. 
 
 Plant the chestnut, yew, and balsam, 
 
 Ash and vernal pine, 
 Arbor-vitae hedge 'round orchard, 
 Peach and trellis'd vine. 
 e g 9 
 
 97 
 
9 8 THE GRANGER SONG. 
 
 Hold the homestead of your father; 
 
 Leave it to your son ; 
 Leave it better than you found it 
 
 When your work is done. 
 
 Build your school-rooms, rear your churches, 
 
 And sustain them too ; 
 Be to temperance, truth, and virtue 
 
 Ever just and true. 
 
BORDER BRAVE. 
 
 (general n. d. miles.) 
 
 Vict'ry again, thou border brave, 
 Snatched from the jaws of fate ; 
 
 Through flood or flame to battle save 
 Thou never wert too late. 
 
 Nez-Perce's, chief of gallant race, 
 
 Proud leader on the trail, 
 In Gibbon's charge and Howard's chase 
 
 Proved fearful to assail. 
 
 Through glade and glen in Wonder-Land 
 
 His stalwart warriors came, 
 Tourists to save 'mid geysers grand 
 
 Plead innocence in vain. 
 
 When winding from the snowy crest, 
 
 Or dashing o'er the plain, 
 The crafty Crow, and Sturgis pressed 
 
 Upon his trail in vain. 
 
 Then o'er Missouri's turbid flood 
 
 He all pursuers scorns, 
 Yet on the trail to Sitting Bull 
 
 Found Woody Mountain thorns. 
 
 99 
 
IOO BORDER BRAVE. 
 
 There, trailer thou on mountain-path, 
 
 And victor of the dales, 
 As screaming eagle swoops in wrath, 
 
 The fearful foe assails. 
 
 Thy vet' ran s bold charge as of old, 
 'Mid storm and leaden rain, 
 
 And daring scout and comrades bold 
 Are numbered with the slain 
 
 63 Not unavenged, for Looking-Glass 
 And countless warriors brave 
 No more will ambush in the pass, 
 But fill a warriors grave. 
 
 The white flag floats for fight to cease ; 
 
 Then pleads the chief to save 
 The remnant of his band, and peace 
 
 Of gallant Border Brave. 
 
THE TATTOOED ARTIST. 
 
 64 1 sing of an artist, scribe, poet, and seer, 
 
 A lover of nature and scoffer at fear, 
 
 Who longed in his childhood, and yearned as a man, 
 
 For a steed on the border, a sword in the van, 
 
 And a couch on the field where the red torrents ran. 
 
 At school oft the figures would marshal as men, 
 
 Fierce braves on the coteau, or scouts in the glen ; 
 
 His brush, as an artist, the lilies would scorn, 
 
 And glory in painting the cactus and thorn, 
 
 Or the crests of his warriors with plumes would adorn. 
 
 As a poet, o'erlooking the beauties of home, 
 His themes are of artists and warriors who roam, — 
 Tall, portly, and stalwart, with long, wavy hair, 
 A hero he seems in the eyes of the fair, 
 And his lyrics the patrons of science ensnare. 
 
 And thus he arranges a tourist to go 
 O'er the plains and the rivers and mountains of snow, 
 To note while he journeys, and write when at rest, 
 And paint the proud warriors and steeds of the West, 
 To publish in journals of science the best. 
 
 With outfit unrivalled, hope buoyant and strong, 
 He hies for the regions of slaughter and song ; 
 All cheerful his parting with patrons and friends, 
 But tears fleck the tokens a fond mother sends, 
 And the cheeks of one dearer, whose locket attends. 
 
102 THE TATTOOED ARTIST 
 
 Our hero a listener to lectures had been, 
 Which portray the white man as primitive sin ; 
 While, lo ! the poor Indian is ever in need, 
 Bereft of his birthright and robbed of his steed, 
 Safe prey for the pale-face, his lust, and his greed. 
 
 And Catlin he'd envied, and Cooper perused, 
 
 On their tales and their paintings in sympathy mused, 
 
 'Till love for his race as a people had fled \ 
 
 No fear on the border save of those who had said, 
 
 " The only good Indians are those who are dead." 
 
 Thus blithe from the portals of science and lore, 
 He hies to the regions of ambush and gore ; 
 On a craft of the rivers, released from restraint, 
 In tracings of nature, wild, brilliant, or quaint, 
 He revels with brushes, pen, pencil, and paint. 
 
 " Oh, ho !" says our artist, " quick land me again," 
 As a village of teepees he spies on the plain ; 
 "I'll show you the spirit of Catlin survives, 
 And fears not the warriors, dog-soldiers, or wives !" 
 "They're painters all, too," quoth a scout, "'and havt 
 knives." 
 
 While the steamer is puffing to round a great bend, 
 Does our artist with vigor the coteau ascend ; 
 The warriors perceive him, and quickly prepare 
 To tender a greeting warm, brilliant, and rare, 
 And finish the frolic by "lifting his hair." 
 
 " How-how !" quoth our artist as rearing his brush, 
 " Mak-wa" say the warriors as for him they rush ; 
 
THE TATTOOED ARTIST 
 
 103 
 
 While seeking to show them his friendship and faith, 
 They rob him and welt him with jeering and mirth, 
 Each brave and squaw helping " for all they are worth." 
 
 Down hot pours the sun on his shoulders and back, 
 Each squaw making merry with tickle and whack ; 
 Watch, clothing, and weapons are stripped from his neck, 
 Squaw, pappoose, and wizard each save from the wreck, 
 And the breast of the chief, does his locket bedeck. 
 
 Lo ! modesty shocking, no model so nude 
 E'er poised for his pencil as for it he stood ; 
 Nor was it on canvas their tracings were quaint, 
 But the model they tackled with bodkin and paint ; 
 Such greeting by friends ! 'twould have ruffled a saint. 
 
 On thighs they lizards tattoo in colors bright and true ; 
 On belly plump a bull-boat with naked squaws the crew ; 
 On brawny breast Crow totems of glistening black they 
 
 drew; 
 On arms and cheek a striping of yellow, red, and blue ; 
 On forehead grinning goblins, all hideous to the view ; 
 And ears and nose fresh eyelets, with gaudy trinkets new, 
 Rig up his frontal gear ! 
 
 Some raven-plumes they plaited among his golden hair, 
 And eagle-pinions painted across his shoulders fair; 
 On back a curly bison, with tail erect in air, 
 With rampant strides was chasing a grizzly to his lair; 
 Some serpents scaly twining where pants he used to wear, 
 And pair of wall-eyed owlets where wont to press the 
 chair, 
 
 Brought up a brilliant rear ! 
 
I0 4 THE TATTOOED ARTIST. 
 
 Sure 'twas a sight that Barnum, with all his craft and gold, 
 Ne'er saw, or dreamed, or conjured, though half is still 
 
 untold. 
 A forked post they planted two bison -heads to hold, 
 And grizzly's head above them, by forked prong con- 
 trolled ; 
 With cruel thongs they bound him, as slave in market sold, 
 And fagots piled around him, lest he was growing cold ; 
 And then they danced and sung : 
 
 " Si-oux chieftain, tall and bold, 
 
 Maiden fair and wizard old ; 
 
 Hun-ka,* weazen, pap-poosef young, 
 
 Warrior with his bow unstrung, 
 
 Meet you, greet you, heart and hand, 
 
 To the secrets of our land, 
 
 And upon your bosom white 
 
 To-temsJ trace for sacred rite; 
 
 Deep we pierce and bright we paint 
 
 Grizzly bold and bison quaint ; 
 
 Shunk-to-ke-cha,§ he-kha-ka, || 
 
 Shun-ka-wa-kan,*[ wa-pa-ha,** 
 
 Wi-ta-wa-ta,ff sa-paJJ wan,§§ 
 ||]| Wi-chen-yan-na,^[ win-i-ban." *** 
 
 * Da'-ko-ta, his mother. f O-jib-wa, Indian child. 
 
 J To'-tems, symbolic Indian name. 
 
 £ Da-ko-ta, the other dog, wolf. 
 
 || Da-ko-ta, the antlered male elk. 
 
 % Da-ko-ta, shun-ka, dog; wa-kan, sacred dog, horse. 
 ** Da-ko-ta, hat or cap. 
 
 ff Da-ko-ta, ship or boat. JJ Da-ko-ta, black. 
 
 $% Da-ko-ta, one, a or an. 
 
 Illl The last line doubtless refers to some maiden of the tribe who 
 had been carried off by the white men. 
 
 ^ff[ Da-ko-ta, girl. •*• O jib- wa, gone. 
 
THE TATTOOED ARTIST 105 
 
 While wizard circled round him, with pricking thrust of 
 
 spear, 
 With scalping-knife a warrior carved round his frontal gear, 
 And hatchet hurled at ear-rings, to test his sense of fear; 
 Some squaws with rancid bear's-grease his thighs and 
 
 buttocks smear, 
 In love, with splinters blazing, they singed him there 
 
 and here, 
 Then kindly fired the fagots, his Indian friends to cheer, 
 And then another dance and song : 
 
 "Il-la-hi,* you come to see, 
 Lo-lo-lof you want to be ; 
 Chit-woot \ sko-kum,§ bold you come, 
 Mos-mos,|| stupid to your doom, 
 Ab-sa-ra-ka,^f til-la-cume.** 
 Que-u-que-u,ff lance and plume, 
 Min-ne-ke-waJJ cannot save, 
 Min-ne-wa-wa§§ branches wave, 
 Kam-ooks|||| gaunt around you glare, 
 Ka-kawsfl* circle in the air. 
 By the blood of kindred slain 
 Thine shall lance and fagot drain. 
 I-san-tan-ka,*** feel our ire, 
 Wa-kan-sche-cha,fff in the fire." 
 
 * Chinook jargon, country our. f Chinook jargon, conqueror. 
 \ Chinook jargon, bear. § Chinook jargon, brave. 
 
 || Chinook jargon, buffalo. \ Da-ko-ta, Crow Indian. 
 
 ** Chinook jargon, enemies. ff Chinook jargon, circle- circle. 
 
 - \\ Santee, water-god. 
 ££ Da-ko-ta, pleasant sounds of the breezes in the grove. 
 Illl Chinook jargon, dogs. 
 W Chinook jargon, crows or ravens. 
 -:•:-** Da-ko-ta, Big- Knife, American, 
 fft Da-ko-ta, wa-kan, mystery ; sche-cha, bad mystery, devil. 
 
106 THE TATTOOED ARTIST. 
 
 And our confiding artist, what of his faith and love 
 
 For persecuted chieftain and loving turtle-dove, 
 
 And brood of helpless robins, thrust from their quiet 
 
 nest ? 
 His feelings still were tender, but — truth must be con- 
 fessed — 
 Yearned less for hosts who honored than for their honored 
 guest. 
 
 And visions fast are flashing within him and around, 
 With wonders why he's tattooed and 'mid the fagots 
 
 bound ] 
 And less he thanked the artists than cursed his coat of 
 
 paint, 
 And less his prayers for Indians than execrations quaint, — 
 Proof that one may die a martyr who still is not a saint. 
 
 But lo ! the proud steamer is heaving in view, — 
 " Heap-heap of fine frolic, here goes for one new ! 
 " Wa-wa I"* shouts the wizard, as hurling the brands 
 And scalping-knife gleaming, quick severs the bands ; 
 From the fire reels our hero, and bewildertngly stands. 
 
 The wand of the wizard is wafted amain ; 
 
 Soon a gantlet-line lengthy is formed on the plain ■ 
 
 Nude chieftain and warrior, buck, pappoose, and squaw, 
 
 And curs of all colors, gaunt belly and maw ; 
 
 Such greeting and parting few guests ever saw ! 
 
 Alas for our artist ! scene lively and quaint, — 
 But somehow his ardor had vanished for paint, — 
 
 * Wa-wa', Chinook jargon, a call ; as, hear ! hear ! 
 
THE TATTOOED ARTIST. 107 
 
 And theme for a poet, few better are seen ; 
 
 But strangely his visions were not with his theme, 
 
 But afar with a mother, or the maiden a gleam. 
 
 The calliope's trumpet, enlivening, he hears, 
 
 And shouts from the steamer, loud greeting with cheers. 
 
 One sigh for the maiden he's seeking to find, 
 
 One spank from the nude one he's leaving behind, 
 
 And into the gantlet he sails like the wind ! 
 
 Oh, were I a poet to graphic portray 
 The skill of our bard in the gantlet and fray, — 
 With switch, knife, or fagot, each pappoose in place, 
 Each maid with her larrup, and warrior with mace, 
 To prick, switch, or gash him, then join in the chase. 
 
 Faith, never by breech-clouts such running was seen ; 
 Such twisting and turning and dodging between ; 
 Thrusts and blows that were aimed at our hero before 
 Oft sprawled those behind him in howling and gore ; 
 Sure, his bison helps dodge, and his eagle helps soar. 
 
 Soon, out of the gantlet he hies him amain, 
 Leaving yelling pursuers wide-spread o'er the plain ; 
 But the whelps of all sizes, stride, color, and breed, 
 As wolves swarm around him, ferocious in greed, 
 Where the Indians are scattered, delaying his speed. 
 
 Alack ! when with skill he was dodging a brave, 
 Whose hatchet-blow missed him, and a yelping cur clave, 
 Another, — not warrior, but cur, — with a yell, 
 Grabbed his owlets behind, and together they fell, 
 Dogs, poet, and warriors commingled pell-mell. 
 
108 THE TATTOOED ARTIST 
 
 But our hero, by doubling in striking the ground, 
 With somersault double, a leap, and a bound, 
 Dogs, wizard, and warriors are distanced, and found 
 On the cactus-thorns sprawling or howling around, 
 While the war-whoop and scalp-yell redouble the sound 
 
 Nor idle our friends on the steamer, whose gun, 
 Hurling shell 'mid the warriors, enlivens the fun ; 
 While calliope-trumpet, screaming whistle, and bell, 
 The ringing of rifles, the shouting, and yell, 
 From the stern-paddle steamer commingle and swell ! 
 
 No greeting to comrades, nor farewell to foes, 
 Nor brushing of ringlets, nor dusting of clothes; 
 No sketching of artist, speech of wizard or seer, — 
 In plunges our poet, — no river hath fear,— 
 And steamer he reaches 'mid shouting and cheer. 
 
 No mirror he's seeking, no maiden's caress, — 
 Sure, all laud his running, his swimming, and dress ! 
 His greetings as artist and speedy return, 
 Such lessons of friendship as few ever learn, 
 And totems of glory as glisten — and burn. 
 
 And thus from his sketching our artist returns, 
 All covered with glory, with bruises, and burns ; 
 Nor thankful for tokens or totems best own, — 
 Though clothing he brought none, his robe is his own, 
 Nor changing with fashion, nor ever outgrown ! 
 
 But alas for our poet, scribe, artist, and seer, 
 
 The maid of his bosom greets him back with a jeer ! 
 
THE TATTOOED ARTIST. I09 
 
 " Oh, where is my locket, with its sweet, smiling face? 
 For an ugly squaw-bartered breast of breech-clout to 
 
 grace ? 
 Then come ye thus tattooed my fair name to debase?" 
 
 And the patrons of science were little less rude ; 
 While Adonis and Venus they worship all nude, 
 The artist they furnished, who a model returns, 
 With lofty disdaining their modesty spurns ! 
 Worse than fagots of savage such ingratitude burns ! 
 
 But just as cash, courage, and patience were gone, 
 His tattooed form bending, gaunt, famished, and wan, 
 The tale of his suffering reached Barnum the brave, 
 Who found him and saved him, and lasting fame gave — 
 His coat of all colors, "Tattooed, captive, and slave !" 
 
 Thus failing untimely as an artist or seer, 
 
 And savant and poet, — there is reason to fear, — 
 
 His harp with his pencil and scrap-book are flung 
 
 Where wizard ne'er tattooed nor poet e'er sung ; 
 
 Hence these rude strains of tribute, with harp all unstrung, 
 
 To the seer and the savage ! Adieu, I am done. 
 
THE MOSQUITO. 
 
 In eastern vale or western valley 
 
 The stagnant pools his home ; 
 In northern marsh or warm savanna, 
 
 He welcomes those who roam ! 
 
 Not Catlin's brush nor Cooper's cunning 
 
 Can paint this insect true, 
 Nor Shakspeare's Shylock match his dunning,- 
 
 For blood he claims his due. 
 
 With fanning wings and music charming, 
 
 Mosquitoes lull their prey, 
 Safe chance to find, without alarming, 
 
 To steal our blood away. 
 
 But in thy fertile vales, Missouri, 
 And by the Yellowstone, 
 65 Like hornet hordes aroused to fury, 
 They greet us to their home. 
 
 Sure, 'tis a land of blood and slaughter, 
 
 As many find too true ; 
 With mud and alkali and water, 
 
 I fear I'm feeling blue ! 
 
 Bestride my loping steed Deschoteau, 
 
 'Mid antelope on plain, 
 Or bison herd upon the coteau, 
 
 I'll cheerful feel again. 
 
THE MOSQUITO. TII 
 
 E'en thus amid life's conflicts ever, 
 
 As day succeeds the night, 
 Does triumph crown each firm endeavor 
 
 In struggling for the right. 
 
 And thou, thou "cussed" little fellow, — 
 
 Blood-sucking leech of prey, — 
 Rip, roar, and howl, and sing, and bellow ! 
 
 " Slap" — takes thy life away ! 
 
FRIGHTENED HANS. 
 
 A jolly Hans, of Olmstead, full, plucky, plump, and 
 
 strong, 
 Went prospecting a homestead, and drove his team 
 
 along ; 
 "Come," quoth he to his Fraulein, and to his kinty 
 
 Schon, 
 " So ven ve pilds der cabin ve alls can help along." 
 
 Long, long they chased the sunset o'er prairie, butte, 
 
 and plain, 
 To bask in fabled Eden, but everywhere in vain ; 
 Still Salter seemed the waters, and shorter grew the grass, 
 66 The shining sands of coteaus reflecting heat like glass. 
 
 Weary, faint, and sinking, in misery and woe, 
 
 'Mid vision scenes of drinking, where waters never flow, 
 
 Mountains ! the Rocky Mountains ! glad they greet with 
 
 cheers ; 
 Mirage of gushing fountains dispel their frantic fears. 
 
 With joy and hope they rally, and climb the rocky crest; 
 A glorious smiling valley lay nestling in the West : 
 " Oh, here will end our sorrow, no further will we roam, 
 But joyful on the morrow will choose our site for home." 
 
 With pail in hand, dismounting, for water for the team, 
 Hans hastens to the fountain, — oh, horrid stench and 
 steam ! 
 
 112 
 
FRIGHTENED HANS. 113 
 
 "Zulphur!" he shouts; then stooping, hot, foaming 
 
 water finds, 
 And hastening from the basin, gets caught in border 
 
 vines. 
 
 " Dhrive, Schon" he cries, "mein Sohn / for zulphur 
 
 sthrong I schmell, 
 And vater hot mit primstone, for sure ze burning hell 
 Be's not von mile from dis phlace ! Dhrive quick and 
 
 fast, mein Sohn ! 
 Farewell, mein Fraulein Kathrine ! Got save mein kinty 
 
 Schon!" 
 
 Attached unto the legend is a moral sure as woe : 
 
 In scouting a new region, look well before you go. 
 
 In vales of stifling brimstone perchance 'tis well to pray, 
 
 But glorious greeting geysers — unwise to run away. 
 
 Thus sequel sad to legend adheres, as it would seem ; 
 
 For Hans and John and Fraulein, though safe 'mid 
 smoke and steam, 
 
 Were captured by the. Si-oux in their causeless stampede 
 lone ; 
 
 67 Fear of scalding led to roasting on the fated Yellow- 
 stone. 
 
 IO* 
 
THE WINDING DELL. 
 
 Long o'er the wastes we've wandered, 
 
 Through cactus, sage, and sand ; 
 By lonely watch have pondered 
 
 O'er scenes in native land, — 
 Of mothers, sires, and brothers, 
 
 Of sisters kind and true, 
 And fond farewell of lovers, 
 
 As gliding from their view. 
 
 And oft the painted savage 
 
 Has flanked our weary way, 
 On steeds by day to ravage, 
 
 At night with barb to slay \ 
 And blanket-robed, the fallen 
 
 We've hidden 'neath the sod, 
 With throbbing hearts, then left them 
 
 To solitude — and God ! 
 
 But in this vale of verdure 
 
 We cease the wastes to roam, 
 And flocks and herds will nurture 
 
 Around a cabin home, 
 And soon will end our sorrow 
 
 And wandering in the West, 
 "Short marching on the morrow 
 
 To gain our park of rest." 
 114 
 
THE WINDING DELL. IIS 
 
 Thus spake the belted ranger 
 
 Unto his pilgrim sire : 
 "We're done with tramp and danger" 
 
 Rang round the blazing fire. 
 Repast of eve is ended, 
 
 The vesper chant is sung ; 
 In cheering carols blended 
 
 Are voice of old and young. 
 
 As when the heart is lightest 
 
 Beware of tidings drear, 
 So when the camp is brightest 
 
 Oh, watch for danger near ! 
 Flash ! sharp the rifle, ringing 
 
 Adown the winding dell, 
 And deadly bullet singing 
 
 To ebbing heart, "Farewell. 
 
 And feathered barbs are flying 
 
 Like wintry flakes of snow, 
 And ghastly forms are lying 
 
 As strewn by torrents flow. 
 Scant space is found to "cover' 
 
 Around the camp-fire bright, 
 From foes that round us hover 
 
 In gloom of starless night. 
 
 But vengeance speeds the rally 
 And mounted gun the boom ; 
 
 Fast in that lovely valley 
 
 The warrior meets his doom. 
 
Il6 THE WINDING DELL. 
 
 And fierce the clang of sabre, 
 That tells of deadly stroke; 
 
 Strong arm has ceased to labor, 
 Proud heart in death is broke. 
 
 And many a summer's glory, 
 
 And many a winter's snows, 
 Shall pass ere fades the story 
 
 Of how these mortal foes 
 Met in this beauteous valley, 
 
 That swells this winding glen, — 
 Met, not as maidens dally, 
 
 But quenched their hate like men. 
 
 And yet the turf shall brighten 
 
 With verdure where they fell, 
 And long their bones shall whiten, 
 
 Adown the winding dell. 
 And ere his race shall wither, 
 
 Or kindred leave the vale, 
 The red man wandering thither 
 
 Shall still recount the tale. 
 
 And yet shall reap the yeoman 
 
 The gladdening sheaves of grain, 
 Where heart' s-blood of the foemen 
 
 Have fertilized the plain. 
 And yet shall children prattle, 
 
 And yet shall maiden tread 
 In peace this vale of battle, 
 
 With garlands for the dead. 
 
AFAR FROM THE CITIES AND HAMLETS OF 
 
 MEN. 
 
 68 Afar from the cities and hamlets of men, 
 I follow the streamlet through forest and glen ; 
 The elk with proud antlers enlivens the bowers, 
 And brilliant and fragrant the meadows with flowers. 
 
 Still onward I wander, till startled by fear, 
 59 As thunders from heavens unclouded I hear, 
 And rainbows I witness high spanning the walls 
 Of canons deep furrowed by lashing of falls. 
 
 All eager I hasten, entranced by the scene 
 Of cataracts double and cascades between, 
 And bright-tinted buttress to pinnacles high, — 
 Base deep in the canon, crest piercing the sky. 
 
 All heedless of danger, by wild, winding way, 
 I haste, 'mid the halos, the thunder, and spray, 
 70 Adown to the lichens, mist-nourished and green, 
 Where the floods as a deluge from heaven are seen. 
 
 All breathless in efforts of scaling the walls, 
 'Mid balsams I press to the head of the falls ; 
 And there 'mid the spray on the quivering brink, 
 Of the scenes of my childhood, far distant, I think. 
 
 As then, the huge boulders in rolling amain 
 I greet with loud shoutings, re-echoed again ; 
 
 117 
 
n8 AFAR FROM THE CITIES. 
 
 And cobbles are hurled o'er the swift-rushing stream, 
 As it glides from my view like a phantom or dream. 
 
 Then along the wild rapids, by cedars o'erhung, 
 Where artist ne'er pencilled nor bird ever sung, 
 And flood-gates of torrents from mountains of snow 
 Are echoing beside me above and below. 
 
 And here in this grotto deep-sheltered and warm, 
 All weary I slumber, unheeding the storm, 
 Whose thunders deep-rumbling commingle again 
 With the spray of the waters whence gathers the rain. 
 
 No clouds fleck the terrace, no winds reach the glen, 
 When to life and its struggles I waken again, 
 And pensively ponder o'er scenes that are fled, 
 Of hopes that are vanished, of friends who are dead. 
 
 And life's panorama drear passes along, 
 Mist-phantoms commingled of sorrow and song, 
 Alluring each promise, but failure attends, — 
 Foes only are steadfast, inconstant are friends. 
 
 Unselfish I've struggled to benefit men, 
 Regret less I leave them, my refuge the glen, 
 Where mist-nourished flowers and carpets of green 
 Commingling in bowers like Eden are seen. 
 
 71 Henceforth be my music the cataract's roar 
 My refuge the grotto, to leave nevermore ; 
 Light halos encircling my winding-sheet be, 
 A tomb be the pool of this grotto for me, 
 And the rainbow my pathway of spirit set free ! 
 
 
OH, IS THERE IN THIS WORLD SO DREAR? 
 
 Oh, is there in this world so drear 
 
 A scene of harrowing pain 
 Like haunts of those to memory dear 
 
 We ne'er shall meet again? 
 
 72 In crumbling home of friends afar 
 
 The wolf and vulture dwell, 
 And screams and howls deriding mar 
 The scenes once loved so well. 
 
 73 Above the ceaseless dash and roar, 
 
 Where mountain torrents greet, 
 The famished eagles circling soar, 
 And fierce coyoutas meet. 
 
 And, all unbidden, memory turns 
 
 To bloody scenes again, 
 And only slumbering ire burns 
 
 With vengeance for the slain. 
 
 And throbbing heart instinctive swells, 
 
 And surging pulse is wild, 
 As weapons gleam whose ringing knells 
 
 Count coups* on race defiled. 
 
 Will tourist yet who safely roams 
 
 With buoyant hope and tread, 
 Flowers pluck amid the bleaching bones 
 
 Of us, the unknown dead ? 
 
 * Scalps. 
 
 119 
 
I 20 OH, IS THERE IN THIS WORLD SO DREAR ? 
 
 And will the bards here yet to sing 
 
 Know aught or care for those 
 Whose music was the rifle's ring, 
 
 And couch the mountain snows? 
 
 Who oft alone in mountain glen, 
 
 Or bands in valley strife, 
 As heroes lived, and died as men 
 
 Who dearly sell their life ? 
 
 Oh, is there land of peace and rest 
 
 For wanderers below, 
 Where yet the weary shall be blest, 
 
 Where soothing waters flow ? 
 
 Where reunite the mountain band, 
 Where each shall know a friend ? 
 
 And dwell for aye in Mystic-Land, 
 Where kindred spirits blend ? 
 
 Ah, yes, ah, yes, such land and home, 
 
 Such rest and kindred shore ! 
 Where friends shall greet, and foes may come, 
 
 But meet as foes no more ! 
 
TO THE TIE AT HOME. 
 
 Oh, thou who dreads my starting, 
 
 Far o'er the West to roam, 
 Whose tears endear our parting, 
 
 Whose smiles allure me home ! 
 
 74 Far away on the cliffs of this wild roaring river, 
 I remember the rill near the cot of my bride ; 
 
 Home-trail with that bride through the wild-wood to- 
 gether 
 On our morning of union, of hope, and of pride. 
 
 Of the long years of toil and of hardships together, 
 Rude tomb of our first-born, in the forest alone ; 
 
 Fond hopes o'er the fair locks of those we thought never 
 Would eager forsake us for strangers unknown. 
 
 Of the dark days of war, of bloodshed and sorrow, 
 When thou girded my sword with a tear and a prayer 
 
 That from the fierce strife and the carnage of morrow 
 I safe might return to thy fond arms so fair. 
 
 In the halls of my country, when the conflict was o'er, 
 Thy soft cheeks were blooming with pride and with 
 love 
 
 For him thou dreamed fondly would leave thee no more 
 Till called to sweet rest in the mansions above. 
 
 F II 121 
 
122 TO THE TIE AT HOME. 
 
 But the years have rolled onward, our children are gone ; 
 
 Time has blighted our vision, our thin locks are gray; 
 In a far distant region I'm weary and 'lorn ; 
 
 As the dew of the morning earth's hopes fade away. 
 
 Oh, bright through the cedars the visions that steal, 
 The light-circling halos ascending in spray ; 
 
 Oh, pathway is this to the land o' the leal? 
 And life, as these waters, thus gliding away ? 
 
 Yet, loved one to me, thou art still ever young ; 
 
 All rosy thy cheeks and bright beaming thine eye ; 
 When pale are these roses, life's harp sleeps unstrung. 
 
 In the green groves of Eden, oh, meet me ! Good-by ! 
 
THE WARRIOR'S GRAVE. 
 
 Faint wane the hopes of loved ones 
 To greet their honored dead ; 
 
 Chill howl the storms of winter 
 Around his mountain bed. 
 
 Fierce scream the wolf and raven 
 
 Around the vacant grave ; 
 Earnest the search of comrade 
 
 For relics of the brave. 
 
 73 A mould' ring plate and headboard, 
 Carved on the field of gore 
 
 By sword of faithful comrade, — 
 His name and date,— no more. 
 
 These records, faint but truthful, 
 Tell where he fell and died ; 
 
 Commingling bones of foeman 
 Bleach on the mountain-side. 
 
 Through mountain gorge and tempest, 
 
 By ancient friend alone, 
 These relics of our hero 
 
 Were borne to friends who moan. 
 
 Is this meet tomb for hero 
 On countless fields of strife? 
 
 And this reward for yielding 
 Home, happiness, and life ? 
 
 123 
 
124 
 
 THE WARRIOR'S GRAVE. 
 
 'Tis not a realm of justice, 
 Nor yet of Eden's bowers ; 
 
 Too oft of wrong and suffering, 
 This, cruel world of ours. 
 
 Oh, rather choose the sharing 
 A humble home of love, 
 
 And wisely there preparing 
 For Eden's bowers above ! 
 
I SING IN SONGS. 
 
 I sing in songs of gliding lays 
 Of forest scenes in border days ; 
 Of rippling rills in valleys green, 
 And mirrored hills in lakelet sheen ; 
 Of mountain-peaks begirt with snow, 
 And flowery parks, pine-girt below; 
 Of daring deeds of border braves, 
 On dashing steeds, to gory graves ; 
 Of brawny breast, 'neath painted plume, 
 On warrior's crest, in dash to doom ; 
 Of light canoe on dashing shore, 
 And daring crew, who'll row no more ; 
 Of goblins grim and canons grand, 
 And geysers spouting o'er the strand ; 
 Of Mystic Lake, of Wonder-Land ; 
 
 And of a youth, from humble home, 
 To parents' help, impelled to roam 
 O'er prairies green or thirsty plain, 
 Or dashing streams, that mountains drain ; 
 And far away 'mid snows to roam, 
 To morsel furnish those at home ; 
 To manhood grown, leaves border life, 
 Prepares a home and seeks a wife ; 
 Then in the camp or council pure, 
 On side of justice ever sure, 
 Till age has silvered o'er his head, — 
 Old comrades gone and loved ones dead, — 
 n* 125 
 
126 / SING IN SONGS. 
 
 Still, as the oak, leafless and shorn, 
 Amid a forest, rent and torn, 
 Still cheerful waiting for the day 
 From earthly cares to pass away, 
 With life well spent, and promise plain 
 That losing earth he'll heaven gain. 
 
 
BLAZE BRIGHTLY, O CAMP-FIRE ! 
 
 Blaze brightly, O camp-fire ! beneath the dark pines, 
 While sadly the hunter 'mid trophies reclines. 
 Blow blithely, O zephyrs ! from sweet-scented vales, 
 To blending untimely in moaning and wails, 
 • 'Mid snow-crested mountains in fierce howling gales. 
 
 How oft, 'neath the branches of cedars low bent, 
 Or clustering balsams, for refuge intent, 
 Have I, when benighted in fast-falling snow, 
 Found shelter and comfort by camp-fire aglow 
 That none but a climber of mountains can know ! 
 
 And there have I pondered, all pensive and lone, 
 On days that are vanished, on hopes that have flown. 
 My birthplace a cottage in warm flowery grove, 
 Kind parents and brothers and sisters to love, 
 And Bible and Sabbaths to point me above. 
 
 All peaceful my slumbers, all happy my home ; 
 No visions of dangers, no longings to roam ; 
 An Eden in promise, no Eden to prove, 
 But a thorn with a rosebud, a blighting in love, 
 And far from that Eden I wander and rove. 
 
 All slowly but surely time passes away ; 
 'Neath willows low bending friends mingle with clay; 
 
 127 
 
l 2 8 BLAZE BRIGHTLY, O CAMP-FIRE 
 
 Uncounted, in circles the seasons have fled ; 
 Unnoticed, these tresses are bleaching my head ; 
 Unconscious, I'm nearing the rest of the dead. 
 
 Howl, tempest ! befitting, the thunders that roll, 
 
 This turmoil in bosom, this quaking of soul. 
 
 A long life reviewing of folly and pain, 
 
 All bubbles its pleasures, its struggles in vain, 
 
 76 Earth's treasures all vanished, no heaven to gain. 
 
UNION OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Where the broad, romantic valley of the dashing Yellow- 
 stone 
 
 Greets Missouri's turbid waters, far toward the setting 
 sun, 
 
 Where the Man-dan and the Te-ton, with the Yank- ton 
 and the Crow, 
 
 And the bloody Black-foot Pe-gan, with the British Knis- 
 te-naux, 
 
 Meet in battle on the war-horse, or in bull-boat float at 
 ease, 
 
 There was built the stockade " Union," a mart of fur 
 amid the Rees. 
 
 Long around that distant station gathered rovers of the 
 
 plain, 
 White and red, of every nation, such as ne'er shall meet 
 
 again ; 
 
 77 For the ever-fickle river veered away to meet its mate, 
 
 78 And the fort, its cache and lodges, were abandoned to 
 
 their fate. 
 Garnered scenes, by sketch of Stanley, Catlin's brush, or 
 
 Irving's pen, 
 Of trappers true and voyageurs, alone survive those daring 
 
 men. 
 
 Now again the painted warrior, 'mid the ruins of the past, 
 Builds his teepee and his earth-lodge, master of the site 
 at last. 
 i 129 
 
130 
 
 UNION OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Sweet and pleasant is the memory of our youthful friends 
 
 and braves ; 
 Sad and lonely 'tis to wander o'er their foe-betrodden 
 
 graves ; 
 But the ever-restless white man savage tribes can ne'er 
 
 withstand ; 
 Soon the pale-face race shall conquer and possess that 
 alley land. 
 
 Then, perchance, o'er graves of comrades whom the 
 
 painted savage slew 
 Cypress boughs and wreaths of laurel shall entwine o'er 
 
 warriors true. 
 79 Oh, for bard to chant their requiem ! Oh, for storied 
 
 pen to save 
 From the silence of oblivion legends of the true and 
 
 brave ! 
 Like the union of these valleys, may their spirits meet 
 
 and blend ! 
 Like these waters, ever gliding, may their happiness ne'er 
 
 end ! 
 
OH, FOR BARD TO TRULY TREASURE! 
 
 80 Oh, for bard to truly treasure 
 Border scenes of days agone ! 
 And in strains of thrilling measure 
 Garner deeds else soon unknown, 
 Forest scenes ere long o'ergrown ! 
 
 Now of daring deeds of yeomen 
 Round their cabins in the wilds, 
 
 Then of voyageurs when the foemen, 
 By their ever crafty guiles, 
 Drove them to the distant isles ! 
 
 As of Hans along the Hudson, 
 
 Then the wild Manhattan shore, — 
 
 Now a mart of matchless splendor, 
 That no cloud in passing o'er 
 Mirrored in the days of yore. 
 
 Thus, perchance, the haunt of trappers, 
 Or the gulch where miners dwell, 
 
 Searching for the hidden treasures, 
 Shall for toil reward them well, 
 And the wealth of nations swell. 
 
 Even thus the bard in singing 
 Strains of those who fighting fell 
 
 By the bolts from rifles ringing, 
 For himself may harvest well, 
 And the works of knowledge swell. 
 
RUSTIC BRIDGE AND CRYSTAL FALLS. 
 
 81 Will these feet that trip so lightly 
 O'er this structure rude but strong, 
 Or these eyes which beam so brightly, 
 E'er greet scenes more meet for song? 
 
 Skipping rill from snowy fountains 
 Dashing through embow'red walls, 
 
 Fairy dell 'mid frowning mountains, 
 Grotto pool and Crystal Falls. 
 
 Charming dell, begirt with wonders, 
 Mighty falls on either hand, 
 
 Quiet glen amid their thunders, 
 Matchless, save in Wonder-Land. 
 
 O'er their mingled mists and shadows 
 Rainbows beauteous, tinted, rise, 
 
 And their ever-changing halos 
 Blend and vanish in the skies. 
 
 Shy beneath the crystal waters, 
 In the grotto of the glen, 
 
 Sylvan forms of nature's daughters 
 Sport and bathe unseen by men. 
 132 
 

 RUSTIC BRIDGE AND CRYSTAL FALLS. 
 
134 
 
 RUSTIC BRIDGE AND CRYSTAL FALLS. 
 
 Here we part, perchance forever, 
 
 In our pilgrimage below ; 
 Yet in scenes like this together, 
 
 Above may we each other know ! 
 
HIGH TOWERS THE CRAGGY SUMMIT. 
 
 High towers the craggy summit, begirt with glistening 
 
 snow, 
 Mirrored in emerald lakelets in flowery vales below ; 
 Proud soars the fearless eagle around the frozen crest, 
 Low, 'mid the blooming daisies, the turtle builds her nest; 
 Down verdant sloping terrace flow sweetly gliding rills, 
 Roars cataract like thunder in echoes 'mid the hills ; 
 The woolly-sheep and big-horn trail deep in mountain 
 
 snow, 
 
 82 And beavers build their wick-e-ups where warm the 
 
 waters flow. 
 
 83 Gigantic wrecks of forests, all fossilized to stone, 
 
 By trailing vines and cedars are, trellis-like, o'ergrown ; 
 Through flowery vales the river meanders on its way 
 To cataract and canon, their thunder, mist, and spray; 
 And vales of blooming roses are sheltered deep and warm 
 Amid the towering mountains, where howls the Alpine 
 
 storm ; 
 With zephyr-hiss, the ripples glide laughing to the shore, 
 Where tempest-driven billows terrific dash and roar ! 
 
 In all these blooming valleys, along each crystal stream, 
 And snow-encircled lakelet, where quivering halos gleam, 
 These labyrinths of goblins, and spouting geysers grand, 
 Unnumbered are the marvels throughout the Wonder- 
 Land ; 
 
 i35 
 
136 HIGH TOWERS THE CRAGGY SUMMIT. 
 
 As wintry storms build snow-fields, and summer breezes 
 
 thaw, 
 84 All nature seems in contrast, in beauty, size, or awe, — 
 Creation, grow f/i, and ruin, the universal law ! 
 
LONELY GLEN. 
 
 83 'Tis lion's scream resounding 
 
 Adown the lonely glen, 
 Like those once here astounding, 
 
 From throats of savage men ; 
 When angry rifle ringing, 
 
 And scorching sulphur smoke, 
 And deadly bullet singing, 
 
 The luring silence broke ! 
 
 Plumed warriors fierce and savage, 
 
 With hatchet, lance, and knife, 
 The camp of tourist ravage, 
 
 And seek the owner's life ; 
 Too late is flight for safety, 
 
 And fight with savage vain, — 
 Soon crimson rill joins torrents 
 
 That snowy mountains drain ! 
 
 Are these the brands of camp-fire ? 
 
 And theirs this battered plate ? 
 From wounded here the death-cry, 
 
 For mercy came too late ! 
 Yes, but the day is dawning 
 
 Athwart the morning star, 
 To saddle fast, a warning, 
 
 For duty calls afar. 
 
 12* 137 
 
REYNOLDS'S DIRGE. 
 
 Oh, know ye the coteaus and valleys between, 
 The rose-tinted bowers and meadows of green, 
 And pure crystal river, from mountains of snow, 
 Encrimsoned by carnage that curdled its flow 
 With steeds and their riders, and foemen in strife, 
 Commingled and falling 'neath hatchet and knife? 
 And the rose on the coteau was tinted again 
 With crimson fast spouting from wounds of the slain, 
 When Custer led phalanx of heroes as bold 
 As the Greeks or the Romans in legends of old 
 To ambush and slaughter, and mourning in homes 
 Afar from where tempests are bleaching their bones. 
 
 I've trailed o'er that coteau and roamed o'er that plain ; 
 In that valley built camp-fire 'mid bones of the slain. 
 86 My fagots were ruins of teepee and tent, 
 'Mid war-robes and blankets all gory and rent. 
 There at eve came the spirit of Charley the bold, 
 Not gory, but blooming, the hero of old, 
 And this was his greeting : "All welcome, my friend ! 
 The clay thou art seeking has gone with the wind ; 
 My few bones remaining by the willow so lone 
 Take homeward returning to rest with thine own. 
 But birthplace or kindred cease efforts to trace, — 
 The hatchet has slaughtered the last of my race." 
 
 138 
 
YES, BE IT THUS. 
 
 Yes, be it thus ; the die is cast, 
 
 The fatal word is spoken ; 
 The halo-cloud of charming past 
 
 And chain of bondage broken. 
 Oh, 'mid the gloom of coming years, 
 
 Will dreams of friends forsaken, 
 Or shrunken cheeks, too dry for tears, 
 
 Remorse or shame awaken ? 
 
 Will visions then of happy days 
 
 In snow-girt park or valley, 
 And cheering dreams of camp-fire blaze, 
 
 And loving song and sally, 
 Blend sweet with those of wavy brow, 
 
 Where pledges fair were riven, 
 And quivering lips renew the vow 
 
 To meet again in heaven ? 
 
 139 
 
IN CABIN, CAMP, OR COUNCIL. 
 
 87 In cabin, camp, or council, in husbandry or war, 
 In sunny native valleys or snowy mountains far, 
 Two kindred spirits blended, alike their acts and aims,- — 
 Their earthly duties ended, together find their names. 
 Mount Washburn and Mount Norris like battlements 
 
 arise ; 
 O'er cataract and canon their summits pierce the skies; 
 Path-seeker and path-maker, personified to stand, 
 Enduring guide for tourists throughout the "Wonder- 
 Land." 
 
 140 
 
YES, EVERY ONE A MAN. 
 
 I've trailed the proud Missouri 
 
 Till fountain rill I stride, 
 And founts of the Missoula, 
 
 Adown the sunny side ; 
 Till countless rills in blending 
 
 A mighty river form, 
 And from the Hell-Gate Canon 
 
 I greet a valley warm. 
 
 And here a town I enter, 
 
 A shoeing shop and mill, 
 A tavern in the centre, 
 
 And corral on the hill ; 
 A score of earth-roofed cabins, 
 
 A rum and gambling lair, 
 John Chinaman and laundry, 
 
 And teepees here and there. 
 
 And lo ! a belted ranger, 
 
 A chum in days of yore, 
 Shouts, " Well, how are you, stranger? 
 
 Let's shake your paw once more." 
 Full soon we drank to courage, 
 
 And loud the toast and song, 
 And glasses quaffed to comrades 
 
 Far o'er the mountains gone. 
 
 141 
 
142 YES, EVERY ONE A MAN 
 
 And in the morn we ramble 
 
 Beside a mountain rill, 
 Till silent camp we enter 
 
 Upon a sunny hill; 
 And here we halt to ponder 
 
 Beside each turfy home 
 Of those who' re done with wandering, 
 
 Of those who've ceased to roam. 
 
 And here we gaze in silence 
 
 Upon the hillocks green, 
 The moaning pines and balsams, 
 
 And brilliant flowers between, 
 Until my ancient comrade, 
 
 With quivering lip and breath, 
 Recalls each name and story, 
 
 And manner of his death. 
 
 "Beneath this branched cedar 
 
 Sleeps comrade true and brave, 
 Who ever trod the war-path 
 
 The innocent to save ; 
 But as the rescuing seaman 
 
 Oft sinks beneath the wave, 
 So Harry fell for others, 
 
 And here's his lowly grave. 
 
 " Here's Ned, the daring trapper 
 
 Along the Yellowstone, 
 Who scaled the snowy mountains, 
 
 And gulches trod alone ; 
 But while he trapped the beaver, 
 
 To sell his coat so fair, 
 
YES, EVERY ONE A MAN 143 
 
 The Bannocks trailed the trapper 
 
 Unto his brushy lair, 
 And here his bones are mould' ring, 
 
 While they retain his hair. 
 
 " Here's Jack and Bill, the brothers, 
 
 Who left a happy home, 
 And loving friends and sweethearts, 
 
 The western wilds to roam 
 In search of gold and romance 
 
 But trailed and toiled in vain ; 
 While bravely fighting Koot-nays* 
 
 Were numbered with the slain, 
 And their bleaching bones we gathered 
 
 Along the Coeur d'Alene.f 
 
 " When melting snows were foaming 
 
 Adown the Blackfoot Gorge, 
 En route from winter's roaming, 
 
 Encamped was daring George 
 Upon a narrow terrace, 
 
 Beneath its rocky walls, 
 Whence icy waters swept him 
 
 Relentless o'er the falls. 
 
 "Upon the roaring Loo-Loo, 
 
 In howling wintry storm, 
 Nor fire nor tent nor teepee, 
 
 Or robe to keep them warm, 
 These brothers braved the tempest 
 
 Till chilled was curdling tide, 
 Then robed in snowy blankets, 
 
 Together clasped they died. 
 
 * Indians of the Koot-e-nay tribe, 
 f Pronounced cor-de-lane. 
 
144 YES, EVERY ONE A MAN. 
 
 " Nor least, but last and saddest, 
 
 The fate of comrades here, 
 Who closed a drinking frolic 
 
 Around a bloody bier ; 
 And then their wrathful comrades, 
 
 As vigilants arrayed, 
 O'er forked pine threw lasso, 
 
 And in a noose each swayed, 
 And sadly 'neath these willows 
 
 In morn these three were laid. 
 
 " Ah, yes, their vigils keeping, 
 
 Above the torrent's roar, 
 Each peacefully is sleeping, 
 
 All here the twenty-four, 
 All here in glory lying, 
 
 From foe no coward ran, 
 Each spur and booted dying, 
 
 Yes, every one a man !" 
 
THE ARTIST STANLEY. 
 
 O artist ! true artist ! who far in the West, 
 O'er coulee and coteau and bleak mountain-crest, 
 'Mid Mo-doc and Man-dan, Brule, Black-foot, and Crow, 
 Bronzed teepee and totem, lance, quiver, and bow ! 
 
 O painter ! who painted o'er prairie and plain 
 The lodge of the living, the cairn of the slain, 
 Proud plume of the warrior, and maiden so shy, 
 And prisoner firm-bound 'mid the fagots to die ! 
 
 O limner ! bold limner ! on war-trail or street, 
 On moor or on mountain no more shall we meet ; 
 Thy paintings portray thee more life-like than song, 
 More valued and lauded as time glides along ! 
 
 O Stanley ! brave Stanley ! thy rambles are o'er, 
 
 And brush laid aside, — -thou wilt need it no more ! 
 
 88 But "Uncas" and "War-path" and "Signal" shall 
 
 stay . 
 When thy head, heart, and hand have long moulder'd 
 
 away. 
 
 O Eden ! pure Eden ! sweet home of the blest, 
 Where the brave and the loving in harmony rest, 
 May painter and poet in ecstasy blend 
 With saints and with angels in bliss without end ! 
 
 G k 13 145 
 
MIN-NE-HA-HA. 
 
 Breezes briskly blowing, 
 Waters brightly flowing, 
 
 Thine, Min-ne-ha-ha. 
 Warriors bold are banished, 
 Maidens dusky vanished, 
 
 From Min-ne-ha-ha. 
 Another race are sowing, 
 Or with chariots mowing, 
 Lovely cities growing, 
 
 Round Min-ne-ha-ha. 
 Until time be ended 
 Be thy beauties blended, 
 
 Sweet Min-ne-ha-ha ! 
 
 146 
 
LOVELY RIVER. 
 
 Flow on, thou lovely river ! 
 
 Go smiling on thy way, 
 And gathered floods deliver, 
 
 In thunder, mist, and spray, 
 Amid the arching rainbows, 
 
 High o'er the triple falls, 
 Where quivering mystic halos 
 
 Bright tint the canon walls. 
 
 E'en thus may life, in gliding 
 
 Adown the stream of time, 
 Glean wealth and worth abiding 
 
 From many a sunny clime. 
 Nor soul on brink to shiver, 
 
 But boldly launch away, 
 Joyous to meet its Giver 
 
 In realms of radiant day. 
 
 '47 
 
BURIAL TEEPEE. 
 
 Amid the Judith Bad Lands, beside the Mussel-shell, 
 89 The Ab-sa-ra-ka chieftain most bravely fighting fell; 
 Fighting the Si-oux savage, to save his pale-face friend, 
 His list of gallant battles came to a glorious end. 
 
 When the bloody strife was ended, and weapons ceased 
 
 to gleam 
 Within the snowy canon and along the sunny stream, 
 'Mid reeking scalps of foemen, lashed to his steed of 
 
 foam, 
 In triumph sad they bore him unto his silent home. 
 
 In gorgeous war-tent teepee once captured from his foes, 
 He's near Camp Lewis sleeping, in dreamless, sweet 
 
 repose, 
 With lance and cross o'er doorway, rich trophies there 
 
 abound, 
 With Black-feet scalps above him, and Si-oux scalps 
 
 around ; 
 
 To-tems of saint and savage, of white man and of red, 
 In brilliant colors painted above the mighty dead ; 
 There let him rest in triumph, and moulder into dust, 
 His spirit's with Wa-kan-da, on whom he set his trust. 
 
 i48 
 
BOLD TRAPPER OF THE CAMP-FIRE. 
 
 90 Bold trapper of the camp-fire 
 In thy daring days of youth, 
 Meek Christian when a grandsire 
 On the homeward trails of truth. 
 
 Proud rover of the mountains, 
 Scaled thou oft the snowy crest; 
 
 In vale of emerald fountains 
 Lowly is thy couch of rest. 
 
 Thy war-path days are ended, 
 Ranch in heaven's park begun ; 
 
 There may our trails be blended, 
 And our camps and comrades one ! 
 
 13* 149 
 
THE WARRIOR'S DIRGE. 
 
 91 Gone, brave brother, gone from the suffering and strife, 
 Commencing with birth, only ending with life; 
 Through the red fields of war spared in safety to roam, 
 Life's duties all o'er, rest with loved ones at home. 
 
 May thy myrtle-wreaths won in the blooming of youth, 
 In the halls of the schools or the chapels of truth, 
 Entwine with the laurel-bays earned on the field, 
 Where glory is carved by the sabre's bold wield ! 
 
 And who are thy friends in the land o' the leal, 
 The warriors in mail, with their helmets of steel, — 
 A Wallace, a Bruce, or an archer, as Tell, 
 In triumph who lived, or in victory fell ? 
 
 And still dost thou view, on the coteau or plain, 
 Charge of golden-haired chief to the carnage again ; 
 And thy comrades, alas ! all lifeless and lorn, 
 Asleep where they fought, 'mid the cactus and thorn? 
 
 And view ye the reapers, with carbine and sword, 
 
 In the field of war-bonnets and plumes by the ford ; 
 
 And the riderless steeds, careering again, 
 
 O'er the thick-scattered sheaves on the harvest of slain? 
 
 Avaunt with such deeds by the dwellers of earth ! 
 Tne grim scenes of war, or its revels and mirth ! 
 Far better the acts and the mansions of those 
 Who pruning-hooks make of the spears of their foes 
 
THE WARRIOR'S DIRGE. 151 
 
 Ho, signal the giants of carnage and gain ! 
 Come, spend ye a night with the ghosts of your slain ! 
 Then turn, if ye will, to your slaughter and lust, 
 Brief heyday of revel, then moulder in dust. 
 
 And where the immortal, the God-given soul ? 
 Its mansion eternal, is heaven its goal, 
 Or sinks it in sorrow with spirits akin, 
 Their sharers in crime and the heralds of sin ? 
 
 Oh, better the reapers with sickles of right, 
 Who cleave for the gleaners of freedom and light ; 
 And as sheaves from the harvest they bring at its close, 
 Bright bundles of friends they have won of their foes. 
 
 Soul-cheering the hope of a land far away, 
 And the reveille call at the dawn of the day, 
 When the heroes of earth shall immortal ascend, 
 With laurels bedecked and where angels attend. 
 
CYPRESS SHADOWS. 
 
 92 ec Where the long reeds quiver, where the pines make 
 
 jnoan, 
 By the forest river sleeps our babe alone/ ' 
 Thus a yearning mother, in a flowery grove, 
 Seeks her sobs to smother with a chant of love : 
 " England's field-flowers blooming may not deck his grave ; 
 Cypress shadows, looming o'er him, darkly wave." 
 
 " Far away we journeyed from our native land, 
 O'er the briny ocean, o'er the burning sand ; 
 For my loved ones hoping, thus I wandered far, 
 Hence this loving bosom bears a cureless scar. 
 'Neath the pine-tops moaning, in his lowly grave, 
 Leave I a pledge of heaven, other gems to save. 
 
 " In my weary wanderings to a land afar, 
 In my camp-fire visions will a twinkling star, 
 'Mid the waving shadows, smiling sweet and fair, 
 From the azure heavens, guide me where you are, — 
 Not this tomb so lowly, where the shadows lie, 
 But in regions holy, far beyond the sky? 
 
 " Hence, in wanderings dreary in the mighty West, 
 When my way is weary and my heart oppressed, 
 As I count my jewels, shall this shining star 
 Fill the broken circlet, and guide me where you are, — 
 Not beneath the cypress, 'mid the forest gloom, 
 But in bowers of Eden, bright with love and bloom ?" 
 152 
 
I'VE TRAILED THE PROUD COLUMBIA. 
 
 I've trailed the proud Columbia, from fountain-head in 
 
 snows, 
 To where the bold Shoshone through lava-desert flows ; 
 Have crossed the pass St. Regis and lake of Cceur d' Alene, 
 The lovely glades of Camas and lava-girt Spokane ; 
 Have searched the lovely grottos, and scaled their rugged 
 
 walls, 
 And traced the Peluse turbid unto its sacred falls. 
 
 93 And here I pause and ponder at trace of friend of old, 
 An orphan left to wander before the days of gold. 
 A home he found in teepee of Spokane chieftain true, 
 And rollicked with the kam-ooks,* and as a pappoose 
 
 grew ; 
 With squaws he dug the camas, the maize he learned to 
 
 grind, 
 And strode the loping pinto, with naked squaw behind. 
 
 Nor aught knew he of kindred, nor cared he for his race, 
 Until his form expanded and bearded grew his face. 
 " Than water blood is thicker" is proverb old and true, 
 And thus his race he cherished in seeking comrades new; 
 And when the blazing signal, from mountain-crest afar, 
 Warned him of bloody onset and unrelenting war 
 By friends of his adoption against those of his birth, 
 With parting kiss to sister, he boldly sallied forth. 
 
 * Kam'-ooks, dogs. 
 
 153 
 
i S4 WE TRAILED THE PROUD COLUMBIA. 
 
 In vain the war-whoop ringing roused warriors to his 
 
 trail ; 
 Nor deadly bullet singing, nor loping steeds prevail. 
 His pinto through the valley far led them in the chase, 
 Then swam the Umatilla, and proudly won the race ; 
 Nor checked his foaming charger till in his youth and 
 
 pride, 
 Beneath the flag of Steptoe, he fought as scout and guide. 
 
 Full soon the conflict opens upon Columbia's plain, 
 And in the mountain valleys that foaming torrents drain ; 
 Nor time to let the story of fighting, fierce and long, 
 'Twixt those who fought for glory and those who, doubly 
 
 strong, 
 P'ought in their native valleys, fought o'er their fathers' 
 
 graves, 
 Fought by their blazing teepees, and 'mid their dying 
 
 braves, 
 Chose death in gory blankets to life as cringing slaves. 
 
 Thus back they hurled the pale-face when Steptoe's fight 
 
 was o'er, 
 And to the Peluse sacred their trail was red with gore. 
 That weary moons the remnant they sorely did invest, 
 With famished pinto rations those bleaching bones attest; 
 And only for the salmon that crowd the narrow stream, 
 No pale-face from that canon would living e'er been seen ; 
 For lo ! an old tradition of generations gone 
 Declared the salmon sacred below the falls to spawn, 
 Till, lest the sacred fishes should feed the foe they fear, 
 The Chenooks check their running with brushy dam and 
 
 weir. 
 
rVE TRAILED THE PROUD COLUMBIA. 155 
 
 Oft in his pangs of hunger our youth would hear from 
 
 those 
 He left in hour of danger to aid % their mortal foes. 
 When from the cliff the chieftain, at eve when all was 
 
 still, 
 Would ring the clarion war-whoop in echoes from the 
 
 hill, 
 With taunting jeers, " Ho, Sko-kum I* ho, traitor Til-la- 
 
 koom !f 
 Your Il-li-huJ you're viewing, and soon you'll meet your 
 
 doom ! 
 Ho, reared ye in my teepee, you knave in long-knife hire! 
 You traitor to my children, you soon shall feel my ire, 
 In running of the gantlet or roasting in the fire ! 
 
 " But lest your death be speedy, a morsel choice I give ; 
 For while I'm reaping vengeance I want you still to live," 
 As the shank of a cay-ou-ta, or skull of car-a-bou, 
 Or putrid head of salmon, with jeering taunt he threw, 
 Then strode away in triumph, to gloat o'er insult new. 
 
 Blend with his steps receding on the air of evening still, 
 From an overhanging cedar, the voice of whippoorwill, 
 In accents low and mournful, as widowed turtle-dove, 
 "Oh, list, my foster-brother! oh, hear, my truant love ! 
 For you my heart is breaking !" in accents low and mild; 
 It was the voice of Noo-na, the chieftain's darling child. 
 
 "Why left ye thus our teepee? why went ye thus astray? 
 And from my arms in breaking you tore my heart away. 
 
 * Sko'-kum, brave. f Til'-la-koom, enemy. J Il'-li-hu', country. 
 
156 rVE TRAILED THE PROUD COLUMBIA, 
 
 Oh, live you not for vengeance my sire declares your 
 
 due, 
 But for your foster-sister, your Noo-na, ever true!" 
 Then sack of choicest viands from towering cliff she 
 
 threw, 
 And ere his blessings reached her had vanished from his 
 
 view. 
 
 Scarce need to tell the sequel. In every age and clime 
 The daring deeds of lovers was ever theme sublime. 
 Amid the scenes that follow, of carnage on the plain, 
 Escaped the daring ranger and the maiden of Spokane, 
 And in a hidden valley this ranger yeoman tills ; 
 Soon bounteously the harvests their bridal teepee fills, 
 And rollick on the pintos their brood of whippoorwills. 
 
HO, WAKEN! 
 
 94 Ho, waken, you dwellers in chambers of clay, 
 Arise from your slumbers and welcome the day ! 
 Come forth from your prison, flesh, raiment, and arms, 
 And greet us with welcome, no needless alarms. 
 
 We're only your brothers from over the sea, 
 Thus rending your fetters and setting you free ■ 
 Stalk forth as the warriors and sorcerers bold, 
 And greet us with music and legends of old. 
 
 Whose flesh-covered bones strode forth as a brave 
 In the battle-axe combat? Who's cringed as a slave? 
 And here are their mothers one moaning for those 
 Who came not again from the banquet of foes. 
 
 95 x\nd whose is this dust in these chambers beside? 
 Mingled ashes of those who as patriots died, 
 At the stake on the coteau of far-distant plain, 
 Or the torrents of gore in the vale of the slain ? 
 
 Or are they the ashes of sacrifice grand 
 To the gods in the fires of a priest-ridden land, 
 Where mothers oft gave, under wizard control, 
 The fruit of the womb for the weal of the soul ? 
 
 And how came these shells from the deep-rolling waves 
 Of an ocean afar to these prairie land graves ? 
 
 14 i57 
 
l 5 8 HO, WAKEN! 
 
 And what were the viands that in them was given 
 To nourish the soul in its journey to heaven ? 
 
 96 And why are these ramparts so lofty and long 
 Widespread o'er the plains where the antelope throng, 
 With the deer, elk, and beaver, and elephant grand, 
 All trailing in earth to a sunnier land ? 
 
 Whence came ye ? Where wandered ? Or perished you 
 
 here ? 
 As a race are ye dwelling where proud forests rear 
 Their shafts and their branches defying the gales, 
 O'er a people asleep in their own native vales. 
 
 No answer, no greeting, nor motion nor moans ; 
 Your dwellings still crumble, still moulder your bones ; 
 Thus careful I glean from this chamber of clay 
 These relicts for science in halls far away. 
 
 And the remnant I carefully cover again, 
 Then mournfully hie to the valley or plain, 
 Sad traces to find in the cairns of the dead 
 Of a race who for ages uncounted have fled. 
 
 All pensive I muse of those relicts of yore, 
 The labors of those who shall labor no more, 
 Then wondering turn to the monuments grand 
 Of the race that now governs this cairn-dotted land. 
 
 When ages uncounted shall circle again 
 
 And this race of proud vandals shall sleep with the slain, 
 
 O'er their crumbling ruins of iron and stone 
 
 May wander the warriors of races unknown. 
 
NORTHERN CLIME. 
 
 97 Faint I recall, through mists of time, 
 The thrilling scenes of Northern clime: 
 The outward voyage in birch canoe, 
 As home and friends recede from view ; 
 Then long blue Huron's pine-clad shore, 
 And great Superior's waters roar, 
 Lake of the Wilds, and penance beg 
 For cursing gnats on Winnepeg ; 
 And then with buoyant hope and song, 
 With pole and paddle firm and strong, 
 Ascend thy floods, Sas-Katch-a-wan. 
 
 Long are the days, but circles low 
 
 The orb of warmth on crests of snow, 
 
 Which tower athwart its slanting rays, 
 
 And seem at eve with gold ablaze, 
 
 Until retinged with mellow light 
 
 By silvery rays from orb of night, 
 
 Which o'er deep canons dim at noon 
 
 Oft soars the brilliant "harvest moon," — 
 
 As fair as in our distant home,- — 
 
 To cheer us as we toiling roam, 
 
 And gild the dangers yet to come. 
 
 Oh, these brilliant days are waning, and bitter nights 
 
 begun 
 With the fading moons of autumn and the sinking of 
 
 the sun ; 
 
 i59 
 
^o NORTHERN CLIME. 
 
 Soon all the narrow valleys wear blankets white of snow, 
 And icy cinches* hamper the mountain-torrents 7 flow; 
 Canoes are left for sledges, and shaggy kam-ooks strong 
 By thong are driven tandem to haul our goods along. 
 And thus we northward journey among the Knis-te-neaux, 
 In trapping of the beaver or slaying car-a-bou, 
 Or trading beads and blankets, or gaudy trinkets new, 
 For martin pelts, or otter, and foxes white or blue, 
 Till on the Ath-a-bas-can we build a stockade new. 
 
 Soon our Norwegian snow-shoes we carve of sapling long, 
 Or cunning weave the web-foot of moose-wood bark and 
 
 thong, 
 Then bold in winter's twilight, o'er drifting fields of 
 
 snow, 
 We trail the fox and shun-ka and trotting car-a-bou, 
 Or 'mid the cedar thickets or stinted balsams green, 
 The moose, the shaggy musk-ox, or crafty wolverine, 
 And of their coats we fashion huge outer garments warm, 
 Or 'neath them, rolled in blankets, defy the Arctic storm, 
 Or watch the wavy halos athwart the " Northern Pole," 
 With icy fingers clasping to tear away the soul, 
 The while their matchless splendors o'er all the heavens 
 
 roll. 
 
 When from such scenes returning, with weary limbs we 
 
 come, 
 And by the fagots burning enjoy our wintry home, 
 In vigils long and soothing in place of slumbers gone, 
 When, as the night-watch shivering, we swell our muscles 
 
 wan, 
 Then cheerful join the frolics dismissing fear and care, 
 On snow-shoes trail the ermine or fight the polar bear, 
 
 * Cinches, Spanish, saddle-girths. 
 
NORTHERN CLIME. ^i 
 
 Until the sun returning from lengthened wintry night 
 Reflects from icy spangles its countless gleams of light, 
 With joyous shouts of welcome that Arctic night is past, 
 As monks from fasting penance rejoin in grand repast, 
 And shout and song and legend around our blazing fires, 
 The Cree, the Brule, and Briton, and sons of Pilgrim 
 
 sires ; 
 And oft, when storms are howling, join in the circling 
 
 dance 
 The brawny lads of Scotland, with kilt and plume as- 
 kance, 
 The jolly heirs of Erin, and merry sons of France. 
 
 These scenes are o'er, bright visions fled 
 
 Shall meet no more, — the actors dead. 
 
 Alas ! their graves are scattered wide 
 
 From mountain-crest to ocean-tide ; 
 
 Some sleep in vaults in Christian lands, 
 
 Uncorrmed some in desert sands ; 
 
 Some fell in deadly border strife 
 
 By piercing barb or gleaming knife ; 
 
 Some far from friends, who ne'er shall know 
 
 Where curdling life-tides ceased to flow, 
 
 In winding-sheet of Alpine snow ; 
 
 Some for their country fought and fell, 
 
 In victory shouting, "All is well !" 
 
 The booming gun their funeral knell, 
 
 And coming bards their fame shall swell ; 
 
 Lone one, as bough of mistletoe, 
 
 Clings still to life amid the snow; 
 
 May melting torrents here below 
 
 Strand him where Eden's streamlets flow ! 
 
 14* 
 
DE SOTO. 
 
 98 Damp was the day and dreary, the night was dark and 
 
 cold ; 
 Worn were my limbs and weary, my refuge hovel old ; 
 While Christmas bells were jingling in merry distant 
 
 home, 
 Rife was the night with revels where duty called to 
 
 roam. 
 'Twas by the Mississippi, where ancient cypress rear 
 Above the sluggish bayous the pendent mosses drear, 
 With fevered brow and throbbing, I dreamed or seemed 
 
 to dream 
 Of stifled moan and wailing, and flickering torch's 
 
 gleam ; 
 A group of grizzled warriors around a mossy bed, 
 And priests their masses chanting for the spirit of the 
 
 dead. 
 It was the proud De Soto, by toil and sorrow slain, 
 And his comrades with Pizarro, the cavaliers of Spain. 
 
 Dim through the shadows o'er them, back rolk the tide 
 
 of time, 
 Till plumed and mounted warriors, they leave their 
 
 native clime, 
 And 'neath its floating banners embark upon the main, 
 Far in the western Indies to gold and glory gain. 
 Balmy the laughing breezes that swell their eager sails ; 
 Eden the land which greets them, of mountains, hills, and 
 
 dales ; 
 162 
 
DE SOTO. 
 
 163 
 
 Peaceful the chief who meets them upon Peruvian shore ; 
 Patient the faithful toilers, who bounteous harvests store ; 
 Fatal the hour that taught them to wash its golden sand ; 
 Christians, the men who slew them with sabre, spear, and 
 
 brand ; 
 Brazen the thanks to Heaven for gold with gory stain 
 By these comrades of Pizarro, these cavaliers of Spain. 
 
 When from the land of Incas they greet its placid shore, 
 Broad looms their trail of plunder, of revelry and gore ; 
 And of the winds uniting to swell their waiting sails, 
 Laden the mountain breezes with a slaughtered nation's 
 
 wails. 
 And when the pillaged Eden recedes beneath the waves, 
 Nameless the scenes of revel with shackled female slaves. 
 In narrow land 'twixt oceans, like worthless lemon-rind, 
 As feast for famished vultures, the weak are left behind. 
 To Spanish isles they visit, as conquerors they come, 
 And loud the shouts of greeting, the trumpet, fife, and 
 
 drum ; 
 And thus as Christian warriors they leave the raging 
 
 main, 
 And seek their native valleys, these conquerors from Spain. 
 
 Alas ! the shameful story of banquets long and grand. 
 And badges bright of glory from prince of native land. 
 And oft the thanks to Heaven, and loud the praise of 
 
 those 
 Who crossed the raging ocean to "conquer pagan foes;" 
 While to the priests in masses, for fallen comrades' souls, 
 Pile high Peruvian plunder and Mexican pistoles ; 
 And proudly-titled maidens caress the cheeks of those 
 Dark-bronzed in scorching deserts, or scarred in fighting 
 
 foes. 
 
164 
 
 DE SOTO. 
 
 Then from their prince and Heaven a title good and 
 
 grand 
 Is to De Soto given for realm in distant land, 
 Who with his wealth and warriors embarks to cross the 
 
 main, 
 An empire new to conquer for Heaven and for Spain. 
 
 'Twas on the isle of jewels they marshal well and long, 
 Then cross' d the narrow waters, six hundred warriors 
 
 strong, 
 With steeds and lance and carbine, to conquer and to 
 
 hold 
 The land of healing fountains, of glittering gems and 
 
 gold; 
 And loud the thanks to Heaven, and tall the cross they 
 
 rear. 
 ('Twas then the way of nations, and were they not sin- 
 cere? 
 Too oft we judge of others by light they never knew; 
 In ages past or coming perchance we'd change our view.) 
 Soon reared is stockade ample for those they leave 
 
 behind, 
 Then with their steeds and banners through flowery vales 
 
 they wind. 
 Thus forth a realm to conquer, and gold and glory gain, 
 Proud tread the knights of Portugal and cavaliers of 
 
 Spain. 
 
 'Twas now no land of mountains, of terraced slopes and 
 
 pines. 
 But sedgy bogs and cane-brakes, and thorny plants and 
 
 vines. 
 Beneath the moaning cypress in mourning draped they 
 
 find 
 No greeting friend before them, but lurking foe behind; 
 
DE SOTO. 
 
 l6 5 
 
 As thus for moons they wander through forest, fen, or 
 
 glade, 
 By sedgy lakes and bayous they sorely are delayed, 
 Till Ortiz, long a captive unto a chieftain grand, 
 By him in kindness sent them, guides safely through the 
 
 land 
 Unto the smiling hamlets of a people tall and brave, 
 Who prize a sturdy foeman, but scorn a cringing slave, 
 To homes of shelter welcome, 'mid golden fields of 
 
 grain, 
 They greet the famished warriors, the cavaliers of Spain. 
 
 Long through the land they wander in search of gems 
 
 and gold 
 In vain, and suffer hunger and sickness, thirst and cold; 
 Oft cheered by baseless legends, that lead them far 
 
 astray, 
 In pathless rocky regions to wend their weary way, 
 Till from a craggy summit with joyful shout they gaze 
 Upon a land of hamlets and golden fields of maize. 
 A chieftain had each village, its temple and its priest, 
 And robes and signs and seasons for sacrifice and feast. 
 High in the level valley broad mounds of earth they 
 
 raise 
 For lofty halls of chieftain, of council, or for praise, 
 And palisades encircle the hamlets of the plain, 
 When greeted by these pilgrims, the cavaliers of Spain. 
 
 In welcome through the valleys they eat and take their 
 
 fill; 
 Resistless in the hamlets, they revel, rob, and kill ; 
 And chieftain hold as hostage, to furnish slaves to bear 
 The burdens of the victors, relieved from toil and care, 
 
1 66 DE SOTO. 
 
 Until from Tas-ta-lu-ca they cross Pi-u-che's stream, 
 And view within Mau-il-la the spears of warriors gleam. 
 In parley brief the chieftain, the hostage, and the slave, 
 Exchange the fetters galling for the weapons of the 
 
 brave ; 
 And then the slave and captor as sturdy warriors meet, 
 With battle-axe and sabre, all fight and none retreat. 
 But breast to breast, with blow and thrust, fast pile the 
 
 heaps of slain, 
 The warriors' doom, in paint and plume, and belted 
 
 knights of Spain. 
 
 Oh, hasten, bold Moscoso, charge fearless o'er the plain, 
 Ride down and thrust the foeman, and broader strew the 
 
 slain. 
 From fallen steed De Soto remounts to quick restore 
 To ranks the warriors quenching their thirst 'mid pools 
 
 of gore. 
 From these the shout of battle and bugle-blast prolong, 
 From those the clarion war-whoop and dying battle-song. 
 The shafts of stalwart warriors, fast as the mountain hail, 
 Crash through the shield and helmet, and pierce the coat 
 
 of mail ; 
 And feathered barbs are flying, like wintry flakes of 
 
 snow, 
 And ghastly wounds are spouting, as geysers jet and flow. 
 Earth moans, as o'er her bosom fast flows the crimson 
 
 tide 
 From wounds of countless peasants who round their altars 
 
 died ; 
 And 'neath the hoof of chargers, through trellised hills 
 
 and dales, 
 Transpierced by lance and sabre, arise the dying wails, 
 
1 
 
 DE SOTO. 
 
 167 
 
 When lo ! from fiery torches, hurled 'mid the thatchy 
 
 roofs, 
 A thousand red-tongued monsters career with blazing 
 
 hoofs ; 
 A lurid hell, they revel o'er maid and peasant slain, 
 And to it force the living, the mounted knights of Spain. 
 
 Grim sinks the king of splendor behind the field of flame ; 
 
 Pale beams the queen of evening above the scene of 
 shame ; 
 
 Shrill rings the taunt defiant from warriors in the glade ; 
 
 Chill grow the faint and dying, <*n gory couches laid. 
 
 No warming draught nor bandage, nor lint to stanch a 
 wound ; 
 
 None from the smouldering ruins will evermore be found. 
 
 Faint throbs the ebbing lifetide on weary comrade's 
 breast ; 
 
 Faint, fainter still and flickering, and two warriors are at 
 rest. 
 
 Sad is the dirge and wailing, and muffled drum and fife, 
 
 'Neath banners draped and tattered, and pierced in 
 bloody strife; 
 
 Reversed their swords and lances, and slow their meas- 
 ured tread, 
 
 As sadly on the morrow they bear the mangled dead. 
 
 "Amid the holly shadows, upon the gory plain, 
 
 Uncofflned sleep and moulder two hundred sons of Spain. 
 
 Dim fades the gloomy vision, as wandering far and wide, 
 Through countless tramps and battles, to Mississippi's 
 
 tide; 
 High o'er the waters rolling resistless to the main 
 They rear the cross as Christians, and claim the land for 
 
 Spain ; 
 
1 68 DE SOTO. 
 
 Then o'er its turbid waters still onward far they roam 
 Through countless vales and hamlets, nor seek nor merit 
 
 home, 
 Till in the craggy mountains these pilgrims, seeking gold, 
 Fade as the leaves of autumn from hunger, thirst, and 
 
 cold ; 
 Then southward, weary wandering through wintry wind 
 
 and storm, 
 Till on the bold Arkansas they sleep in hamlets warm. 
 The prayers of peaceful owners for recompense were vain; 
 Naught had they left, to give them, these wanderers from 
 
 Spain. • 
 
 Time, strife, and suffering dispel their golden dreams ; 
 Homeward they turn in spring-time adown the swollen 
 
 streams, 
 Until the Mississippi they shouting greet again, 
 Far down its turbid waters, anear the briny main ; 
 But weary, wan, and sinking, and sadly needing those 
 Whose bones, alas ! are bleaching along their trail of 
 
 woes, 
 To build them barks of safety, yet haughty to the last, 
 Supplies demand of chieftain of maize and service vast. 
 No cringing menial answer, but haughty chief of braves, — 
 "Of me, the prince of warriors, claim food and toiling 
 
 slaves ; 
 And you, the heir of Heaven, the son of rolling sphere, 
 Dry up the mighty river, then come, you'll find me here. 
 If friend, I'll greet you grandly; if foe, no bended knee 
 Be stool for mounting charger; in life or death we're 
 
 free." 
 A peer has met De Soto ; another waiting stands ; 
 It is remorse's fever and 'vengeful reeking hands, 
 
DE SOTO. j6 9 
 
 Which from his couch of anguish, as galling captive 
 
 chain, 
 Drag 'neath the turbid waters this cavalier of Spain. 
 
 Dim through the murky shadows I view Moscoso's band, 
 Far wandering through the deserts in search of golden 
 
 land ; 
 A remnant fierce and famished to Rio Grande* return, 
 One hamlet fill with plunder, and others wanton burn, 
 And harmless peasants chaining, — 'tis not the land of 
 
 those 
 Who strangers greet in friendship, or warriors meet as 
 
 foes, — 
 To help in toil in forming a stockade broad and long, 
 And then brigantines seven, of plank and timbers strong; 
 And nails they forge of fetters torn from their dying 
 
 slaves, 
 Or helmet, sword, or buckler of vanished comrade braves, 
 Then with the flood of waters launch boldly for the main, 
 This remnant of the warriors, these cavaliers of Spain. 
 
 Far comes the shout of triumph as breezes fill their sails; 
 Near swells the moans of dying and famished orphans' 
 
 wails ; 
 Faint falls the song of gladness from those we'll see no 
 
 more ; 
 Loud rings the clarion death-whoop of warriors seeking 
 
 gore. 
 A hand is on my bosom, cold fingers clutch my hair, — 
 O God ! it is a vision, and vanishes in air. 
 
 * As the Spaniards then called the Mississippi River 
 
j jo DE SOTO. 
 
 A steamer's screeching whistle, her shouting crew and 
 
 bell, 
 Commingle with the tempest, unearthly din to swell ; 
 Yet lingering from my vision awhile a phantom clings, 
 And from my ancient relics in fading cadence sings: 
 "Oh, freed we from our prison, our fetters, and our clay; 
 Where are our friends and comrades, and captors, where 
 
 are they ? 
 Where are the fields and camp-fires, the walls and pickets 
 
 strong ? 
 O'ergrown by mighty forests, sure we have slumbered 
 
 long." 
 Yes, slumbered long and tranquilly, while friends and 
 
 race are fled ; 
 Another race has conquered, and mingles with your dead. 
 The tramp of mighty armies, the roar of bloody strife, 
 Of brother against brother, aroused you not to life. 
 As countless rills uniting a flood to swell the sea, 
 These brothers blend a nation, united, happy, free ; 
 While plaintive moans the cypress, and dark the waters 
 
 flow, 
 As in the days of Cortez, four hundred years ago, 
 Thus fades my midnight vision, thus ends my mournful 
 
 strain, 
 Of the legend of De Soto, the cavalier of Spain. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 THE CALUMET OF THE COTEAU. 
 
 ' " Say, hast thou seen the cal-u-mct of pink or purple bright, 
 A pipe-bowl in the council, a hatchet in the fight?" 
 
 Tht first white rovers of the seas who landed upon the shores of 
 North America were uniformly met by armed, stalwart, red- or copper- 
 colored warriors, led by some paint-and-plume-bedecked chieftain, 
 who, with a spread robe or blanket and the curling azure smoke of 
 the pipe of peace, welcomed them to their wild shore and rude 
 hospitality. 
 
 This indeed seems to have ever been the custom in their intercourse 
 with the whites and with each other. Be it a casual meeting upon 
 the trail, a visit of friendship or business, a council for the adjustment 
 of differences to avoid war, or for the ratification of the terms of 
 peace, little is ever said, and positively nothing important done, until 
 after the exchange of at least a few puffs of smoke from the never- 
 wanting, forgotten, or neglected pipe of peace. 
 
 These are of various forms, but all having the orifice for the insei- 
 tion of the stem at one end, extend to a capacious bowl or receptacle 
 upon one side, usually at right angles therewith, for the indigenous 
 tobacco, or, in its absence, Kin-no-ke-nick osier-bark, or other fragrant 
 inflammable substances. For use upon ordinary occasions they were 
 made of a great variety of rocky substances, and, together with the 
 stem, were ornamented according to the caprice or circumstances of 
 the maker or subsequent owner. This class of pipes are articles of 
 sale, barter, valued tokens of esteem, as presents to friends in life, 
 and, less frequently, as bequests at death; as, from the nearly uni- 
 versal belief of the North American Indians that all things animate 
 and inanimate alike possess souls, these pipes, a supply of tobacco 
 
 171 
 
172 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 and food, as well as his weapons, utensils, ornaments, apparel, and 
 blankets, occasionally his war horse, and sometimes his widow, or 
 widows, are buried with the warrior gone, so that in the happy 
 hunting-grounds beyond the mountains he may there renew life, its 
 pursuits and its pleasures, as he' left it here. 
 
 But in the grand councils, for the adjustment of disputes of 
 boundaries, formation of alliances, or the ratification of the terms of 
 peace among nations, the indispensable ceremonial pipe of peace is 
 the yellow-mottled, pink, or purple calumet from the sacred quarry 
 of the legendary fossilized flesh of the antediluvian progenitors 
 of the race of red men, usually bearing the totem of the owner, 
 clan, or tribe, or all of them, and which were never regular arti- 
 cles of barter or sale, and seldom of transfer, save in compacts of 
 alliance or confederation of tribes or nations, when they were ex- 
 changeable. Hence its transfer to other races was sacrilegious ; and 
 of the countless pipes peacefully obtained of the Indians by the 
 early white men, it is believed that few, if any, were genuine sacred 
 calumets; and the location, even approximately, of the sacred quarry, 
 or, as figuratively called, mountain, was for a long time unknown to 
 white men. 
 
 Tradition relates that the first devout Frenchmen who visited the 
 falls of the Father of Waters in 1680 were greeted by the appear- 
 ance of St. Anthony, the patron saint of the expedition, who, from 
 amid the spray above the falls, warned them that a great council of 
 the nations of red men had recently ordained that no pale-face should 
 be allowed to nearer approach the sacred calumet quarry ; and, also, 
 that he was rewarded for his fidelity and the event commemorated 
 by their attaching his name to the falls, which they still retain. 
 
 These well-known falls are 380 miles by direct railroad connection, 
 and fully twice that distance by the ancient route of nations up the 
 St. Peter's — now Minnesota — River and coteau route, from the sacred 
 quarry, which, although in the land of the Dakotas, is some miles 
 east of the border of that Territory, in Pipestone County, Minnesota, 
 as now organized. 
 
 It is situated near the southern end of the great " Coteau des 
 Prairies" of the old French voyageurs, and upon the small calumet 
 affluent of the Big Sioux River, which is now called the Pipestone 
 Creek, near the drainage divide of the Mississippi and Missouri 
 Rivers. From the summit of this coteau divide the long parallel 
 
NOTES. 17 3 
 
 swells uniform in character, but charmingly diversified in outline, 
 stretch, like the waves of a fossilized ocean, away, away, until the 
 verdure of earth and the azure of heaven blend in the cloudless 
 horizon of one of the most charming rural landscapes of earth, 
 even still while being spanned by the iron rail and dotted by the 
 dwellings, the grain-fields, verdant groves, and thriving villages of 
 the all-progressive race of destiny, over the rude tumuli, mouldering 
 bones, and crumbling land- marks of the wandering race fast fading 
 away. 
 
 That the unique surface conformation of this region results from 
 enormous groovings and deposits during the glacial period and count- 
 less ages of subsequent erosion is fully proven by the surface and 
 character of the soil, the countless huge erratic blocks, or lost boulders 
 strewn broadcast upon it, as the sacred eggs of the genii in the Little 
 Calumet or Pipestone Valley, the countless deep parallel groovings 
 upon all the exposed rocks of the cliffs as well as the valley, and 
 the evident abrading effects upon them of the frosts and the infrequent 
 but severe storms of a high latitude and a moderately elevated, open, 
 and windy region. 
 
 The operation of some or all of these agencies has produced a 
 valley two miles in length, extending somewhat east of north and 
 west of south from the midway and deepest portion of the falls on the 
 Calumet or Pipestone Creek, where over thirty feet of the horizontally- 
 banded and cross-sectioned, vitreous, beautiful flesh- or pink-colored 
 stone rises in nearly vertical but broken-edged walls. 
 
 The creek is barely a permanent stream save in spring-time or 
 floods, when it is a prairie deluge, breaking over the ragged cliffs in 
 several additional cascades; but the four pools or lakelets aiong the 
 stream within a mile northwesterly are all rocky and permanent, well 
 stocked with pickerel and other fish, and often literally covered with 
 ducks, geese, and other water-fowl. 
 
 The carpet of herbage and flowers along this creek and chain of 
 lakelets must have ever been a chosen haunt of buffalo, elk, deer, and 
 antelope; and a view from the sacrificial altar upon the cliff borders 
 of this sacred vale of refuge, and the pilgrims from countless nations, 
 engaged in bathing, in peaceful amusements, or in quarrying the 
 sacred pipestone, must have ever been one of the most unique and 
 interesting ever witnessed by man in any age or clime. 
 
 The sacred quarry is about one-third of a mile west from the cliffs 
 
 15* 
 
174 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 and parallel with them, and whether or not its discovery really re- 
 sulted from the pilgrims trailing the white or medicine bison or 
 buffalo through the creek, as related in the legend, it is evident it was 
 first opened along the creek and north of it, the more recent as well 
 as extensive excavations extending south of it to a point opposite the 
 legendary abode of the genii. 
 
 The real vein of mottled purple pipestone is a horizontally-bedded 
 and stratified steatite rock aggregating eighteen or twenty inches in 
 thickness, of which only two or three of the bottom strata are thick 
 enough for the sacred calumet, — and this during much of the year is 
 beneath the water, — the material upon its first removal being soft and 
 easily carved and polished in any desired form, which it ever retains, 
 somewhat hardening and deepening in color with age. 
 
 As this pipestone is beneath two or three feet of soil and six or 
 eight of vitreous rocks, only the peculiar fracture of the latter into 
 angular blocks of from four to six feet in length and half as wide and 
 thick could have enabled a rude people destitute of good tools or 
 mechanical appliances to make excavations fully a mile in length and 
 from fifty to two hundred feet in width, — remains which must ever be 
 viewed as one of the marvellous exhibitions of the persistence of man 
 in securing an ornament or sustaining a superstition. 
 
 2 " But the bison, so lofty, so fleet, and so white, 
 Oh ! mar not his beauty, but follow his flight l" 
 
 The white, or medicine, curly bison of the parks, or the shaggy 
 buffalo of the plains. 
 
 They are extremely rare, and, like the medicine wolf, wolverine, 
 and other white individual animals of dark-colored species, are per- 
 haps albinos, and certainly ever objects of mysterious awe, and 
 usually of ceremonious sacrifice, and hence in this case symbolic. 
 
 3 " These five eggs I leave for your witness and mine." 
 
 These famous eggs of the legendary monster eagle are really that 
 number of huge drift granite boulders from some distant unknown 
 source, and each from ten to thirty feet in diameter. 
 
 They are found in a line against each other, fronting the Calumet 
 Creek from the south, about midway in the little valley, extending 
 from the cliffs of the sacred quarry of fossilized warriors, rising thirty 
 
 \ 
 \ 
 
NOTES. 
 
 '75 
 
 or forty feet above, to the modern quarry, six feet beneath its grassy 
 but angular rock-strewn surface. 
 
 4 " Lo ! neath are two grottos for Wa-root-ka's home." 
 
 These Wa-root-kas are the two legendary female genii or local 
 goddesses of the sacred quarry, who, in two little grottos between 
 these eggs, are ever alternately slumbering and watching the sacred 
 quarry. 
 
 These rocks, and more notably flat-surfaced rocks about them, are 
 nearly covered by the carved or painted totems of the countless pil- 
 grims who have, during untold ages, sacrificed to these guardians of 
 the quarry for the privilege of removing fragments therefrom. 
 
 5 " Bold Chey-enne and Da-ko-ta, the latter called Si-oux." 
 
 Da-ko-ta is the Indian name for the confederacy of tribes by the 
 whites called Si-oux. 
 
 This latter name is of somewhat doubtful origin, by some believed 
 to be derived from the Algonquin name Nad-a-was-see-wak, or the 
 people who are shake-like, from the proverbial sly, crafty character 
 of these people. By others the name is deemed the corruption of a 
 pigeon French word little less complimentary. But of the name of 
 this people in the sign language there is no question, which is given 
 by drawing the edge of the open right hand from left to right across 
 the throat, literally "cut-throat;" nor do these names belie their 
 character or their legendary origin as the progeny of the ferocious 
 War-Eagle and the sneaking but ever-famished and voracious Ca- 
 youta, or Prairie-Wolf. 
 
 This name is properly expressed in two closely-connected, quickly- 
 spoken syllables, as used in this work, as if spelled Si-ou, although 
 the whites now usually pronounce it as if spelled Soo, in one syllable. 
 
 6 " In jasper cairn they buried the maid and warrior gone, 
 And bright their totems painted upon the walls of stone." 
 
 This cairn mode of burial is and probably ever has been practised 
 at this sacred calumet quarry, although extremely unusual with the 
 Indians of the great plains and coteaus, few of whom are elsewhere 
 ever buried in the earth or cairns, but usually encased, with their 
 weapons and implements, in blankets and green buffalo-hide, are 
 placed by their friends upon inaccessible ledges of rocks, in forked 
 
176 NOTES. 
 
 trees, or, in the absence of both of these, upon scaffolds for the patv 
 poose, squaw, or dog-soldier, or in gorgeous teepee for the chief- 
 tain gone. But the belief that both the cliff and quarry of the pipe- 
 stone are the sacred relics of the antediluvian (in part) progenitors 
 of their race seems to have ever prompted them to endure every 
 privation and danger in pilgrimages from distant nations, to secure 
 not only unpolluted fragments of the sacred pipestone, but, in case 
 of their dying at the Mecca of their hopes and journeying, to also 
 secure a burial-cairn of the abundant and wide-spread fragments of 
 the cliff. 
 
 The countless numbers of these cairns in the valley, upon the cliff, 
 and for miles upon the surrounding coteau, literally form a sacred 
 cemetery in a land of savages; and as these purple- or flesh-colored 
 rocks are seemingly glazed too hard for carving with any tool known 
 to these people, many of them and portions of the cliff are nearly 
 covered with the fading painted totems of the pilgrims who have 
 mouldered to dust beneath them. 
 
 7 " The woolly-sheep and big-horn." 
 
 The two distinct and extremely dissimilar varieties of the wild 
 sheep of the Rocky Mountain region. 
 
 The famous big-horn, thus named from the enormous symmetrical 
 horns of the adult males, is the taller, more active, darker-haired, 
 and more beautiful animal, and is also far the most numerous and 
 best known. 
 
 While the big-horn has much the appearance of a black-tail deer, 
 with the head and enormous horns of a domestic ram, the white sheep 
 with his curly under and long shaggy outer coating of hair, with his 
 small, sharp, backward turned and beautiful black horns, much re- 
 sembles a huge goat, only he is web-footed for travelling on the snow 
 fields of the mo>t elevated regions, such as those of the main Rocky 
 Mountains around the Deer Lodge, Big-Hole, and Bitter-Root Val- 
 leys, from which he never ventures far or long remains. 
 
 8 " Bestride fleet hornless bison." 
 
 This appellation for a horse, eagle's wings for the sails of the 
 schooner, or big canoe, long-knife for sword, bosom-totem for the 
 buckle-plate of the cross-belt, war-bonnet for the helmet-cap, the 
 flashing lightning, startling thunder, and deadly barbless arrows, aie 
 
NOTES. 
 
 177 
 
 in accordance with the well-known Indian characteristic of naming 
 objects to them new or mysterious. 
 
 9 " Then from the ' Mighty Medicine' in terror fled amazed." 
 
 Literally, the great mysterious unknown; for medicine in Indian 
 does not signify medicinal preparations to cure disease by their 
 inherent properties, but rather anything mysterious, awe-inspiring, 
 or fearful, including the abominable paints and poisonous decoctions 
 of their medicine-men, who are not skilful physicians, but crafty, 
 conjuring magicians. 
 
 10 " Pure Hen-ne-pin and Du-luth visit for good the shore." 
 
 These daring explorers, like Marquette and most of the early 
 French rovers of the great Northwestern lakes and plains, were 
 zealous and devout missionaries of the cross, than whom few men in 
 any age have left a more brilliant record of combined heroic daring 
 and Christian purity, fortitude, and forbearance, and who should in 
 no sense be confounded with the crafty, rum-selling, laws-of-God- 
 and-man-defying fur-traders who followed them. 
 
 11 "Till the prairie Min-ne-tan-ka.'' 
 
 Or, in the Dakota language, Min-ne, water; Tanka, great, or, as 
 necessarily reversed in English, is literally Great water ; but, when 
 properly understood and arranged, signifies the Great River of the 
 Prairies, — i.e., the Mississippi. 
 
 12 " With purple pipe the chieftain first heavenward points above." 
 
 With a thorough knowledge and heartfelt desire, I confess my utter 
 inability to properly portray the matchless deliberation, solemnity, and 
 awe of the invocation of Heaven to witness the sincerity and punish 
 the treachery of those who, with a deliberate puff of the sacred calu- 
 met pipe of peace, in council pledge 
 
 " Each as a friend to know, 
 While sun and moon shall circle, or crystal waters flow.'^ 
 
 13 " Naught care they for the sufferings, the hunger, thirst, or cold 
 Of agonizing victims, so with gore they gather gold." 
 
 Alas ! now, as it ever has been, too lamentably and undeniably 
 true, beside the sanctuaries of the Sabbath in a Christian land, as 
 
I? 8 NOTES. 
 
 well as in the trader's lair among the filthy wigwams of the painted 
 savage, wherever rum is sold. 
 
 14 " For wife to grace the harem, and firm unite his race." 
 
 " Wife," often a temporary mistress to the trader in his harem, 
 which far too many trading-posts are cursed with, and ever have 
 been, and thus, and from the roving habits of all parties, less a per- 
 manent home of any semblance of virtue, than a noisy haunt of 
 profit-seeking alliance and alluring, transient vice. 
 
 15 *i Tower high o'er crystal waters huge crags of crumbling slate." 
 
 The Maiden's Rock, or Leap, on the eastern shore of Lake Pepin, 
 famous in Indian legends from the death of Min-ne-ha-ha and her 
 chieftain lover, Min-ne-o-la, as herein related. 
 
 If the tourist should find this cliff more of a crumbling sandstone 
 than a slate, he may safely charge the error to poetical license for the 
 purpose of symphony in the rhyme. 
 
 16 " Then thrust aside degraded, to delve in kennel vile !" 
 
 " Kennel vile !" Trading-posts are notorious haunts of dogs, mainly 
 mongrels of not only every domestic variety, but also crosses with the 
 fox, cayouta, and sometimes the ferocious buffalo-wolf of the plains, 
 together with their attendant venom and vermin. 
 
 !7 " The secret passage opens." 
 I 
 
 The early trading-posts were usually constructed upon the dry, 
 
 sandy, or gravelly bluffs to lakes or rivers, for the purpose of setting 
 
 the stockade pickets, and for the construction of secret passage-ways 
 
 to the hidden powder-magazine and caches for valuable goods, as 
 
 well as for the purpose of retreat, or securing reinforcements, or 
 
 secrecy of their dusky amours ; and in this case (presumably through 
 
 the connivance of some friend) known to the females, but not to the 
 
 War-Eagle. 
 
 !8 " Still oft in wave-kissed grottos sing they at ' Maiden's Leap.' " 
 
 With these wave-kissed grottos is always connected some tradition 
 of love or slaughter, and frequently of both; and the moaning echoes 
 of the receding ripples in the hidden chambers are ever attributed to 
 
NOTES. 
 
 179 
 
 the wailing dirge of the fallen heroes or heroines of the legend, and 
 hence are ever places of unrivalled interest in both fact and fiction. 
 
 19 " And thou, Mis-sis-sip-pi, bear'st temples in gladness, 
 With loud strains of music their progress to trace." 
 
 It seems scarcely necessary to state that these stanzas refer to the 
 magnificent three-decked steam-packets and their cliff-echoing calli- 
 opes upon the Mississippi and other mighty western rivers. 
 
 20 " Bury purple cal'met peaceful ; 
 Quench its azure smoke ; 
 Grasp the hatchet crimson reeking, 
 Death at every stroke." 
 
 As burying the hatchet is- the ceremonial manner as well as the 
 figurative mode of expressing the ratification of a treaty of peace, 
 even thus was burying the calumet pipe, with its azure smoke and 
 peaceful memories, the appropriate expression of the wine- and step- 
 mother-frenzied War-Eagle in opening a war of merciless extermina- 
 tion upon his own offspring by an ever-peaceful and affectionate 
 former consort. 
 
 21 " Thus soon the Wa kan-she-cha had crushed or slain the race." 
 Wa-kan, mysterious; she-cha, bad; or bad mysterious one, or devil 
 she-devil, which the entire history of this cayouta wife of War- Eagle 
 proves her to have truly been. 
 
 22 "And 'mid the wild roses with carnage once red." 
 
 Few scenes upon the border are more pleasing than the profusion, 
 variety, and fragrance of the wild roses; and from the large bright- 
 red, orange, or yellow-tinted seed-balls, which, under the name of 
 rosebuds, hang upon the bushes all winter as food for birds, and in 
 dire necessity for men, the numerous streams and valleys derive their 
 names. 
 
 A humble but hardy variety of the rose thrives and blooms amid 
 the cactus of such sterile coteau plains as those of the Custer slaughter- 
 field, and are there actually found. 
 
 23 "On the crest of the coteau." 
 
 Where the gallant Custer and the last of his band went down as a 
 phalanx, and where, with due deference to the views of others, in my 
 
180 NOTES. 
 
 humble judgment, they should have ever remained. It is the abrupt 
 terminus of the long coteau-ridge upon which they, retreating fight- 
 ing, fell, sloping somewhat in all directions, steeply but beautifully 
 upon three of them,, thus commanding a clear view of the entire 
 Indian village and valley of the Little Big-Horn (or Custer River) 
 for many miles, with all the slaughter-fields of that day, save those 
 of Reno's, the first of which is somewhat hidden by timber, and the 
 last completely by an intervening bluff. 
 
 Some of these words were inspired and written upon meeting the 
 returning train and the remainder of them upon that consecrated 
 crest, the day following the removal of all found of the officers' 
 remains. 
 
 I still cherish the opinion, then formed, that few places earthly are 
 as lovely, and none so fitting for a warrior's cairn or hero's monu- 
 ment, as where some of them fell; and all should have been gathered, 
 and, beneath a fitting monument, allowed undisturbed repose until 
 Gabriel's reveille should rouse them to their last rally. 
 
 24 " Nor bold as men of courage 'gainst remnant on the hill, 
 
 But prowling 'long the border, the innocent to kill." 
 
 The failure of the congregated hostile savages of the Sioux and 
 several other Indian nations to follow up the rebuff of Crook, the 
 slaughter of Custer, and defeat of Reno by the speedy extermination 
 of the remnant of the regiment upon the hill, and then cutting up 
 the troops of Terry and Gibbons in detail, as they, by the concerted 
 action of organized troop, could have done, but instead, as they really 
 did, by revelling in brutal mutilation of the dead upon the field, until 
 surprised and stampeded from it by the handful of troops under Terry, 
 and then breaking up into recruiting-parties or scalping-bands along 
 the distant border, they clearly exemplified the true Indian character 
 and management in nearly all their wars with the whites. 
 
 25 " From the fairy Min-ne-ha-ha and lover's wailing strand." 
 
 Lover's wailing strand of Lake Pepin, as noted in the stanzas of 
 this legend. 
 
 "Swells one loud wail of agony from sea of flame and gore, 
 Like scream of dying eagle, then silence evermore !" 
 
 For the credit of humanity this fate has not befallen the main por- 
 tion of the Sioux nation, although it seemed impending, if not, in- 
 
NOTES. 181 
 
 deed, just and inevitable, at the time when the words were written 
 upon the steamer "Ashland," while ascending the Yellowstone River 
 with General Miles, soon after his Rose-Bud fight of 1877. 
 
 26 " On the banners of this people let his pinions soar above, 
 With my maiden's cap of Justice, of Liberty, and Love 1" 
 
 Pure, loving, and faithful was the character, heroic the life, and 
 tragic the death of the Laughing Water, Min-ne-ha-ha, and immortal 
 her dirge, as with the blended voice of her, in life and in death, ever- 
 faithful lover, Min-ne-o-la, it re-echoes along the cliffs, or in mournful 
 fading cadence vanishes 'mid the whispering ripples in the wave- 
 kissed grottos of Lake Pepin's tranquil shore. 
 
 Still it is not she, but her heroic mother, the remnant of the pri- 
 meval, and parent of the best of the modern red men, who was the 
 heroine of this legend. 
 
 Whether in the eagle's nes L upon the cliff as the confiding refugee 
 of a drowning race, a willing listener to the complaints and amelior- 
 ator of the wants and woes of her people as a queen, or as a faithful, 
 forgiving wife and loving mother, indeed, everywhere in her entire 
 legendary history are harmoniously blended all the virtues and none 
 of the vices or failings of the real or legendary heroines of other 
 races and climes. 
 
 Although her heroic efforts to save her daughter Min-ne-ha-ha are 
 requited by the speedy death of herself and subsequent relentless 
 persecution by her rum-frenzied and Cayouta-second-wife-instigated 
 War-Eagle, still her pure, confiding spirit ever hovers in love over 
 the dwindling remnant of her race, and in the hour of just retribution 
 upon that of her fiendish successor in the love and favor of her 
 debased husband, still she manifests towards his memory, in all their 
 purity, those unselfish, forgiving attributes of the female character 
 which in every age and clime have been its greatest and most 
 mysterious charm. 
 
 All her cruel and countless wrongs are overlooked or forgotten, and 
 from the ethereal vault of heaven she only recalls the memory of 
 War Eagle as the chivalric rescuer and loving husband of her youth, 
 and father of her offspring; and in his hour of humiliation and de- 
 spair, and of her triumph, as the herald of heaven to affix upon the 
 banner of the victorious race of progress the deluge-spared emblems 
 of her primeval race, her " maiden's cap of Justice, of Liberty, and 
 
 16 
 
1 82 NOTES. 
 
 Love," she, with smiling angels' gliding grace, plants beneath it the 
 long-retained and cherished plumes and pinion quills plucked from 
 those of her War-Eagle chieftain in the days of his purity and pride. 
 And thus, as related in this legend, was it ordained that the em- 
 blems upon the azure field of the battle-flag of the nation of the 
 nations of earth, the chosen land of refuge for the down-trodden and 
 oppressed images of God from every clime and race, should not be 
 debasing imitations of the tyranny and crime-stained banners of 
 other lands, but rather the rescued indigenous emblems of the pri- 
 meval, the piercing lance and arrow of the warrior red men, and the 
 heavenward-soaring pinions of the fearless battle-eagle of our own ! 
 
 2 7THE GOBLIN-LAND. 
 
 This wild, chaotic region of eroded lava, within or adjoining the 
 northeastern portion of the National Park, was named the Hoodoo, or 
 Goblin-Land, in 1870 by the first party of white men who are known 
 to have ever visited it. 
 
 Some members of the party were there killed by the Indians; and, 
 accompanied by one of the survivors, I was driven back by them in 
 1878, but succeeded in the exploration of much of it in 1880, a brief 
 narrative of which, together with illustrations of some of the goblin 
 forms, may be found oil pages 6-9 of my report of that year. 
 
 Reference to these regions may also be found on page 47, and in 
 the map accompanying my report of 188 1. 
 
 In this poetical legend I have sought to blend the traditions and 
 heathen mythology of the sheep-eater aborigines of these regions 
 with the teachings of Inspiration and the records of geology regard- 
 ing the horizontal columns of the huge vertical dykes, fantastic 
 pillars, facades, and domes, the crumbling archways, the tortuous 
 labyrinths and monster goblin-forms of this marvellous extension of 
 the famous Wonder- Land. 
 
 28 "The black eagle soars round the pinnacle high 
 
 Till a wild lamb perceiving, as a bolt from the sky, 
 In his talons quick bears him for a feast in the glade, 
 Near the lion low crouching, whose dinner is made 
 Of victor and victim, in tanglewood shade." 
 
 This is a correct statement of what I once saw in the Goblin Laby- 
 
NOTES. 
 
 183 
 
 rinths, where the great black eagles in vast numbers appear to sub- 
 sist mainly upon the carcasses of the wild lambs which they carry, 
 or of the sheep which in rapid noisy circling they first bewilder, and 
 then with wing or talon, or both, assist in hurling from the tottering 
 crests or crags to the jagged rocks hundreds of feet below. 
 
 The feasts of these crafty eagles upon such carcasses are some- 
 times terminated by those of the couchant cougar, or mountain-lion, 
 or of the sneaking wolverine upon their own. 
 
 29 " Then man, hairy giant, strode forth in his might." 
 
 This stanza is believed to express in a concise and connected 
 manner the attributes of the biped man, the possessor of an immor- 
 tal soul, as distinct from the quadruped or other animals destitute 
 thereof, which are, — 
 
 First. " Erect like his Maker," which, unlike any other known 
 animal, is his natural and habitual position in locomotion. 
 
 Second. " With knowledge of right." 
 
 Reflection, reasoning, the faculty of tracing effect to cause and 
 cause to effect, and ability, possessed by no other animal, of imparting 
 connectedly to others or of transmitting to posterity the results of his 
 experience in life. 
 
 "Third. "Inventor of weapons." 
 
 All other animals rely upon brute force, speed, or cunning. 
 
 Man alone invents, manufactures, or habitually uses weapons in 
 his combats, or tools or implements in his other avocations; and these 
 he is ever improving, while the products of instinct are ever the same. 
 The comb of the first wasp or honey-bee, the nest of the original 
 oriole bird, and the brush-dam and wickeup of the whisker-faced, 
 paddle-tailed progenitors of the beaver-dam builders of earth were as 
 marvellous evidences of skill and of adaptability for the desired pur- 
 poses as are those of to-day or as they ever will be. 
 
 Fourth. "First builder of fire." 
 
 Other animals may, as they will, bask in the rays of the sun, or 
 beside a hot spring, and sometimes warm themselves by a fire already 
 kindled, but only man ever produces, preserves, or materially utilizes 
 one. 
 
 " Fifth. " Lone trader of trophies." 
 
 Other animals may unite to slaughter, but seldom peaceably divide, 
 and never exchange, the fragments obtained, or, as has been well 
 
184 NOTES. 
 
 said, "No dog trades his bone;" nor does any other animal than man 
 barter what he has for what he desires, or ever use a medium of 
 exchange therefor. 
 
 Sixth. " With soul to soar higher." 
 
 Despite the able efforts of some men of pre-eminent ability of the 
 present and the past to refute the doctrine of an immortal soul to 
 temporarily people a human tenement of clay, and permanently in- 
 habit some unknown realm of weal or woe, still the theory in some 
 form is and ever has been wellnigh co-extensive with the human 
 race. This is notable with the leading tribes of the North American 
 Indians, whose paradise is some enchanting island or lovely park, and 
 their perdition a chilling alkali desert, or some fire-hole basin of 
 seething poisonous gases beyond the scorchy deserts or snowy moun- 
 tains of the earth on which we dwell. 
 
 30 " Men, mermaids, and monsters, each sphinx-like in place, 
 And mountains hurled o'er them, from Heaven hides trace." 
 
 As, to this date, less than a score of white men, none of whom 
 were professional scientists, have visited the Goblin Labyrinths, their 
 relative position and rank among the marvels of this wonderful region 
 is yet to be accorded. 
 
 But to the mountaineers who have visited them it requires little 
 superstitious conjuring to imagine that the huge goblin forms which 
 our daring mountain-horses instinctively shun are the men, monsters, 
 and reptiles of a degenerate and licentious world, overwhelmed, 
 hidden, and fossilized by enormous overflows of lava, mud, and 
 slime, and unearthed by the grooving, furrowing, and tunnelling of 
 countless ages of sub-alpine erosion. 
 
 31 " And men of the mountains, of Sheep-Eater band, 
 Of game and of plunder make sacrifice grand 
 To monster stone-gods in the weird ' Goblin-Land.' " 
 
 The maps accompanying my reports of 1880 and of 188 1 show the 
 position of the most eligible site and evidently ever-favorite camping- 
 place for the aborigines of these regions, and where there are now 
 the remains of forty-two lodges, some of which are still standing. 
 
 Upon my visit of 1880 this camp was strewn with the torn and 
 faded remnants of male and female apparel, household goods, and 
 utensils, some of which were brought away as mournful mementos 
 
NOTES. 
 
 185 
 
 of bloody raids upon the distant border, from which, and from a 
 knowledge of the superstitious customs and habits of these people, 
 rather than from direct evidence in this case, I venture the language 
 of burnt-offering in the poem to these weird monsters of stone, which 
 to them must have ever been objects of mysterious awe, and hence 
 of sacrifice. 
 
 MYSTIC LAKE OF WONDER-LAND. 
 
 32 "And chilling blasts resistless come 
 
 Adown thy fingers, palm, and thumb." 
 
 The early rovers and their maps of these regions represented the 
 unique contour of the Yellowstone Lake as more nearly resembling 
 an open human hand than subsequent explorations seem to justify. 
 
 Still, its resemblance to the extended palm of the right hand, with 
 the Upper Yellowstone entering the extremity of the little finger from 
 the south, the main river discharging from the wrist at the north, the 
 forefinger now severed from Delusion Lake, the second finger much 
 shortened, with the western thumb relatively enlarged, and the main 
 lake or palm nearly as wide as it is long, which is more striking from 
 some adjacent snowy peaks than upon a map, is so evident that these 
 names of the various portions of the lake will doubtless long adhere 
 to them. 
 
 33 "No tent can stand, no blanket save 
 
 From biting blasts that round us rave." 
 
 Literally true, and mainly written when beached and frozen-in 
 near the mouth of Explorer's Creek, as briefly noted on page 11 of 
 my official report of 1880. 
 
 34 " Yet practice crimes that dark disgrace 
 Our Christian creed and bearded race." 
 
 Alas ! too often and too undeniably true. 
 
 With relatively few worthy exceptions, the policy of white men 
 has ever been to wantonly crush, or to employ alike the worthy and 
 the unworthy red men as allies to assail and divide them, to practise 
 and condone crimes, pension outlaws, and grant annuities to the 
 bloodiest bands of savages, in order to secure treaties ceding lands. 
 
 16* 
 
1 86 NOTES. 
 
 Meanwhile the steadfast adherence to peaceful possession of valu- 
 able agricultural, timbered, or mineral lands by their unquestioned 
 Indian owners is deemed the sole unpardonable crime of the race, 
 only condoned by the surrender of the land or their lives, and often 
 of both, after unchronicled acts of heroism, rivalling those of the 
 lauded patriots of our own or of other lands. 
 
 35 " Vases and urns from nature's hand." 
 
 The prolongation of Mary's Bay, near the Indian Pond, between 
 the mouth of Pelican Creek and Steamboat Point, upon the Yellow- 
 stone Lake, was by myself named Concretion Cove, from the count- 
 less numbers and various forms of concretions which there fairly 
 shingle the wave-lashed beach. 
 
 On pages 15-17 of my report of 1880 may be found a description 
 of this location and these concretions, together with a theory as to 
 their formation ; and on pages 70 and 71 of that of 1881 illustrations 
 of some of these unique forms. 
 
 36 " And finny forms beneath the wave 
 For angler's bait hot current brave, 
 To find, alas ! like human fool, 
 A barb concealed and seething pool." 
 
 Of the countless marvels of the National Park, few have been more 
 ridiculed, and the reality of none is now better established, than that 
 the large and beautiful but worm-infested trout of the Yellowstone 
 Lake at several localities, notably where our trail leaves the end of 
 ihe thumb for the Shoshone Lake, may be caught in countless num- 
 bers in the lake and cooked in hissing pools without the angler 
 changing his position or removing them from the hook. 
 
 37 " And thence from nauseous hissing rill 
 Sweet flow'ry vale with poisons fill." 
 
 This description of the changing character of many of the rivulets 
 in the Wonder-Land may be verified by any tourist who will follow 
 them from their snow or ciystal spring fountains through nauseous 
 ponds or basins of hissing, sulphurous pools, and the flowery grove- 
 dotted vale below them, all perhaps within the distance of a mile or 
 two. 
 
 A typical case is the crystal rill from the snows of Mount Chitten- 
 
NOTES. jSj 
 
 den, upon which I have often camped above Turbid Lake, upon the 
 shores of which, upon its southeastern tributary, or along its outlet, 
 no human being would wish to camp, or could long endure the 
 sulphur fumes and poisonous gases of an earthly purgatory. 
 
 38 " And islands thine, rock-ribbed and high, 
 With snowy crests amid the sky : 
 Inverted, mirrored 'neath the waves, 
 Seem isles to greet 'mid islands' graves." 
 
 While Stevenson's, Frank's, and some of the smaller islands of the 
 Yellowstone Lake are sandy, and but slightly elevated above its sur- 
 face, several of the headlands and long promontories, as that be- 
 tween the third and little finger, are bold, craggy, and basaltic peaks, 
 having only relatively. low, narrow connections with the mainland. 
 These, in the usually deep tranquil blue waters at their base, are often 
 reflected so accurately as to reproduce them inverted beneath the 
 waves, as here described. 
 
 39 " F or food their flesh, for hunting-shirt, 
 Their vacant coat with belt begirt?" 
 
 From necessity, convenience, or utility, the Indians, half-breeds, and 
 often the white rovers of the border, use robes, overcoats, boots, and 
 caps of the hides of the wolf, wolverine, bear, or buffalo, dressed 
 with the fur on, and hunting-shirts, leggins, and moccasins of elk-, 
 sheep-, or deer-skins dressed without it. 
 
 In fact, the only cloth fabric which I have ever found a reliable 
 protection alike from the merciless storms, the thorn, and weather- 
 worn points of the shrubs and branches of those mountain regions, 
 was the famous Hudson Bay mountain- coat. 
 
 This, with a half-cape, was made of cloth having a warp nearly 
 as coarse and strong as fish-lines, and woof of twisted beaver or 
 other fur with a very heavy nap, and, although common in those re- 
 gions forty or fifty years ngo, has for a long time been unobtainable. 
 
 Like these garments, the flint-lock gun and bull-boat of the past, 
 the days of the hunting-shirt, the moccasin, and even the buffalo and 
 his robe, are rapidly passing away ; and hence these quoted and suc- 
 ceeding stanzas are, it is hoped, pardonable from one who has par- 
 ticipated in two eras of border-life, and has ever earnestly sought to 
 assist in hastening a better one for those who are soon to follow. 
 
1 88 NOTES. 
 
 GALLANT CHARLEY REYNOLDS. 
 
 40 " Once the chosen scout of Stanley, 
 Often Ludlow's mountain guide, " 
 Then with me erst true and manly, — 
 Thou who with our Custer died !" 
 
 Few of the daring scouts of the border ever acquired a greater 
 number of friends, a more brilliant record, or met a more tragic or 
 lamented fate than the gallant Charley Reynolds. 
 
 Upon our return from the National Park late in 1875, ^ e remained 
 at Fort Lincoln, where he was employed as chief of scouts, and as 
 such led them in the Custer campaign until, with Bloody Knife and 
 others, he was cut off from Reno's left flank in his hasty retreat from 
 the ambuscade in the fated valley of the Little Big-horn on the day 
 of the Custer massacre, and there fell bravely fighting until nearly 
 covered by fallen steeds and foes. 
 
 From the half-breed French scout, T. T. Gerhard, who witnessed 
 and, by concealment in the willows, alone escaped the massacre of 
 those thus cut off, I learned the location, and after the removal of the 
 bones of Custer and other officers in 1877, found and removed those 
 of Reynolds, together with all of his well-known beautiful golden 
 hair, which savage ghoul and famished wolf had spared. Some of 
 this I still retain, but the most of it has been scattered far and wide, 
 notably in Kentucky, in the earnest but fruitless effort to find his 
 birthplace or his kindred and heirs ; nor have I ever learned much of 
 his history in addition to that published with this poem in my journal 
 of " Rambles in the Far West" soon after his death, from which I 
 quote as follows : 
 
 " After the removal of the officers' remains, the scout Baronet 
 and myself remained upon or near the field until driven from it by 
 Indian scouts, as may be found in a note to * Reynolds's Dirge,' a 
 portion of which was then written. 
 
 "As stated, we were much together in the Bad Lands, and nearly 
 constantly upon the steamboat, and our excursions from it while de- 
 scending the Missouri to Fort Lincoln, where we parted. 
 
 " He was engaged as chief of scouts for this campaign, hoping for 
 its successful close in time for him and other mountain friends to 
 accompany me to the Centennial, and, returning, spend the coming 
 winter at my suburban home. He was perhaps thirty years of age, 
 
NOTES. 
 
 189 
 
 light complexion and hair, of medium height, but compact build, 
 moral, temperate, mild, and quiet, until emergency called forth the 
 matchless nerve and daring that made him the leading shot and scout 
 of the Missouri or the Yellowstone. He was frank but not con- 
 fiding. I never heard bis nativity, and though his expressed desire 
 to see an eastern city, and much of his appearance indicated a born 
 mountaineer, still his morals, his quiet, refined manners, and a per- 
 vading melancholy when alone or at leisure, alike suggested a better 
 rearing and a crushing misfortune or thrilling tragedy somewhere 
 along his brief but checkered pathway. Premeditated crime I cannot 
 believe of ' Lonesome Charley,' as he was often called; but scions 
 of many wealthy families, especially from the Southern border States, 
 during the closing scenes of the Rebellion, sought amid the mines 
 and the mountains of the West a refuge from harrowing memories of 
 ravaged homes and slaughtered friends; and several trifling incidents 
 lead me to suspect that he was one of them. 
 
 " 'Mid shadows of the setting sun, echoes from the evening gun at 
 Fort Buford roused us from hours of pensive wanderings 'mid the 
 ruins of old Fort Union and the cemetery near Fort Buford, when, 
 with a last lingering look at the turfy tomb of slaughtered friends, 
 and with a heart too full for utterance, I was leaving the enclosure in 
 silence, when Charley, in quiet but frank, earnest manner, said, 
 ' Comrade, I am dreaming where a year hence will find us.' Prophetic 
 dread, my noble fated comrade ! That was at eve of September 25, 
 1875. Upon the eve of June 25 following, his scalped and mutilated 
 body lay amid and nearly covered by foes, slaughtered by his aveng- 
 ing hand at the crimson ford of the Little Horn. July 25 my last 
 letter to him was returned, soiled and worn, but unopened. Sep- 
 tember 25, by a protecting Providence kept at my peaceful home, 
 sorrowfully I spent the closing eve of the fated year in penning the 
 following poetry in feeling, if not in fact, sacred to the memory of 
 that comrade of a year ago, far, far away." 
 
 It seems proper to here state that the foregoing poem and note were 
 written before personally visiting the battle-field and finding that 
 Reynolds was killed in or beside the " Crimson Ford," as from the 
 first publication was then supposed. 
 
190 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 41 PILGRIMS OF THE YELLOWSTONE. 
 
 This legend is less a narralive of the sufferings and fate of any one 
 party than a portray al of the dangers, privations, and sufferings of all, 
 and the slaughter of, alas ! too many of the gold-seeking pilgrims 
 who, under Bridger, Bozeman, and other daring pathfinders, literally 
 left a trail of gore from the Platte to the Yellowstone in fighting their 
 way to found an empire in the Gallatin and other lovely valleys of 
 Montana prior to and during the ferocious Red Cloud Sioux war. 
 
 THE CAPTIVE MAIDEN. 
 
 42 " Rise, my muse, sing of a maiden 
 Captive on the coteau wild." 
 
 This poem was written by request of the lamented Major Meacham, 
 and was mainly published in his Council Fire. 
 
 It is deemed an essentially correct narrative of the valor of the 
 chieftain lover, and heroic death of the captive maiden after the 
 Rose-Bud fight of General Miles with the Cheyennes in 1877. 
 
 THE WONDER-LAND. 
 
 43 " Oh, for wisdom in the councils 
 Of our nation great, 
 To protect these matchless wonders 
 From a ruthless fate \" 
 
 This poem was written in Washington, and used in manuscript in 
 the spring of 1878 to aid in securing the first appropriation of funds 
 ever made by Congress to protect, preserve, and improve the people's 
 heritage of wonders in the Yellowstone National Park, and hence 
 the language of the last verse, as above quoted. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 BOLD HERO OF THE BORDER. 
 
 I 9 I 
 
 44 " In lair of hidden gulches, in Woody Mountain wilds." 
 
 Woody Mountain is a timbered outlier of the Little Rocky Moun- 
 tains, between the Missouri River at the mouth of the Musselshell 
 and the British possessions, and from its abundance of fuel, water, 
 yawning gulches, and wash-outs coulees, an admirable position for 
 defensive warfare. 
 
 As such it was chosen by Chief Joseph, after having defeated or 
 outgeneralled and distanced all known pursuers, and losing the most 
 of his enormous herd of horses by the treachery of his old allies, the 
 ever-crafty Crows. 
 
 It was this which prevented, if he desired, his reaching Sitting 
 Bull, over the British border, before the flanking arrival of General 
 Miles. Chief Joseph's camps throughout the National Park and the 
 adjacent regions were uniformly well chosen and rudely but craftily 
 prepared for defence; and his crossing mighty rivers, scaling snowy 
 mountains, and traversing yawning canons in a continuous migration 
 of his whole people for a distance of nearly two thousand miles, 
 mainly through the wildest, most elevated, craggy, least known, and 
 least accessible portion of the United States, without forage, commis- 
 sary, medicines, or supplies other than furnished by nature or cap- 
 tured from his cordon of able foes, must, all things considered, stand 
 unrivalled in the history of border warfare upon this continent. 
 
 That Chief Joseph viewed with derision Generals Howard, Gibbon, 
 Sturgis, and others, really worthy officers, whom he had defeated or 
 distanced, is well known ; that he was ignorant of the flank move- 
 ment of General Miles is evident; and that he relied upon Sitting 
 Bull for aid in defence of his camp and immense booty captured on 
 the Missouri, and the slaughter of his pursuers if they ventured to 
 assail his chosen position, seems very probable ; and hence only the 
 terrible onslaught of General Miles's unexpected forces in a terrific 
 snow-storm, the death of Looking-Glass, his ablest chief, the utter 
 failure of aid from Sitting Bull, and the approach of Howard and 
 other pursuers, resulted in his capture when nearly in sight of the 
 British line. 
 
192 NOTES. 
 
 45 <c Then came the parley herald, — no servile cringing foe, 
 But chieftain with his rifle, the victors' terms to know." 
 
 In this way only, dauntless to the last,, would Chief Joseph sue for 
 terms of surrender, and even then accept such only as seem to have 
 reflected more credit' upon the valor of the Nez-Perces in the con- 
 ditions named than the reputed failure of their proper fulfilment did 
 upon the civil representatives of the government. 
 
 STALWART YEOMAN. 
 
 46 " Not from hall of the Washburns, 
 
 Who so long have honor'd Maine, 
 But lowly ' Buckeye' cabin 
 Our stalwart yeoman came." 
 
 General H. D. Washburn was born and reared a hunter in the 
 then wilds of Northwestern Ohio. I there first knew him, an active, 
 ambitious youth; thence a surveyor in Western Indiana; from there 
 he became an active soldier during the Rebellion, returning a 
 brigadier-general, to be at once elected to Congress over the great 
 Democratic champion, Daniel Voorhees, often called the "Tall Syca- 
 more of the Wabash." 
 
 Upon my arrival from the Upper Yellowstone in June, 1870, I 
 found him surveyor- general of Montana. Both of us being enthusi- 
 astic explorers, it was with deep regret that I parted with him to 
 descend the Columbia, hoping we would unite in an expedition to 
 the Park the next year. But perverse fate otherwise ordered; a 
 small party was suddenly organized, with him as leader, when he as 
 usual acquitted himself to the satisfaction of all, who by unanimous 
 vote gave his name to the highest peak within the Park. 
 
 The dangers and duties of a useful life, however, were rapidly 
 closing. Exposure in the gases and storms of the Park, with efforts 
 and anxiety for Everts in his thirty-seven days of peril, revived a lung 
 disease contracted in the army. 
 
 But no loving wife or children greeted his return to Helena. In- 
 stead came tidings that after much of a summer spent in trying to 
 reach him via Missouri River and Fort Benton, low water and hos- 
 tile Indians compelled their return to Indiana. There, broken in 
 
NOTES. I93 
 
 health and spirit, utterly worn out by disease and exposure, he reached 
 them during the winter, only to die in the arms of those he so ten- 
 derly loved. 
 
 Not the ties of kindred, but of principles, united him with the 
 noble Washburn family of New England ; and though heroic in life 
 and noble in death, the fathomless canon at the base, the brilliant 
 snowy sides and rocky summit of Mount Washburn may perchance 
 guide the tourist in the Wonder-Land long after all else of him 
 shall be forgotten. 
 
 THE DYING MANDANS. 
 
 47 " Oh, ghastly scene of horror ! 
 Oh, ghastly town of doom ! 
 No hope in dawn of morrow, 
 No halo 'mid the gloom." 
 
 History is silent, tradition meagre and conflicting, as to the origin 
 or early history of the Mandans; but the circular ruins of their earth- 
 lodges in numerous deserted villages are proof positive of their former 
 numbers and successive removals hundreds of miles up the Missouri 
 River, constantly dwindling before their more savage and warlike 
 neighbors to the mouth of the Big Knife River. 
 
 There Lewis and Clarke found a remnant of about two thousand of 
 them in 1804, and subsequently Catlin, Irving, and others, who had 
 enjoyed their hospitality, with pen or pencil heralded their fame; 
 and there, while hemmed in their villages by the ever ferocious 
 Sioux, they, together with other confederate villagers, were nearly 
 exterminated in 1838 by the ravages of the smallpox, or by bathing, 
 Indian-like, in the chilling waters of the Missouri, in the hope of 
 checking the disease. 
 
 This is not the place to theorize, as others have done, of the origin ; 
 these stanzas faintly portray the fate of the most civilized of all the 
 Northwestern Indian nations. 
 
 But, as being a subject of general and permanent interest, I, from 
 personal knowledge, endeavor to describe the famous conical earth- 
 lodge, which is conceded to have been the invention of this people. 
 
 First, a dry, commanding position is chosen, usually in the bend 
 
 . I n 17 
 
194 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 of a river, for Doth water and defence, and a strong stockade of log- 
 pickets constructed across the neck. Then each group of kindred or 
 friends excavate a ditch around a somewhat oblong circle, from forty 
 to sixty feet in diameter, some two feet deep, and wide enough for 
 material to make the floor to the circle or lodge perfectly level, which 
 is beaten down very hard and smooth. Next, saving a space thereon 
 four feet wide for a door- way, a compact row of posts is set in the ditch 
 outside of, and leaning at an angle of ten to twenty degrees against, 
 the bank of earth, rising about six feet above it, and a rough plate 
 placed upon the top entirely around the circle. Then near the centre, 
 four tall, strong crotches or posts with notches in the top are set, with 
 timbers upon them, so as to leave a space four or five feet square for 
 smoke-hole and window. Next, a compact layer of rafter-timbers, 
 with the larger ends on the outside, and smaller ends on the centre 
 plates, and middle supported and somewhat elevated by another row 
 of posts and supporting timbers, having their cracks and crevices care- 
 fully calked with coarse grass and daubed with tou^h mud. Then 
 against the outside posts a heavy bank of earth is thrown, and over 
 the entire roof a foot or so of the alkali earth of the plains. This, 
 with its natural tendency to pack, and being constantly occupied as a 
 lookout-, romping-, and lounging-ground for Indians and dogs of 
 all ages and sexes, soon becomes perfectly smooth, wind^, water-, 
 fire-, and bullet-proof. In the centre is a depression for the fire, and 
 around against the walls the family rooms, often tastefully partitioned 
 by skins and blankets, and on the posts gaudy shields and other war 
 weapons and ornaments. In these the rude bedsteads are formed by 
 low crotches and cross-poles, each covered by a green buffalo-skin, 
 hair up, which in drying stretches very smoothly, and with abundance 
 of robes and blankets forms a welcome bed, never forgotten by a 
 weary or wounded trapper in a hospitable Mandan lodge as of old. 
 Villages thus built around a central court for gossip, dance, and coun- 
 cil are worthy of a patent, and any civilized land would have long 
 since been plastered with them ; and though the invention of a rude 
 people in a prehistoric age, so nicely do they meet their requirements 
 of climate, surroundings, and safety, that a rude chimney and an oc- 
 casional small window, when near the whites, are all the improve- 
 ments attempted since I have known them; and, in fact, the earth- 
 roof is now in nearly universal use by the whites throughout all those 
 arid regions. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 J 95 
 
 THE DYING TRAPPER. 
 
 48 " Hard by those spouting fountains, 
 Far, oh, far away ! 
 Done with his frays and scoutings, 
 A dying trapper lay." 
 
 These stanzas are a heartfelt tribute to the memory of a trapper 
 comrade, who fell and died beside me, as therein portrayed, near a 
 spouting fountain in a lonely glen of the, as then called, " Big-horn 
 Mountains," east of the Yellowstone Lake, in the days long agone ; 
 and the words of the second line of each verse are, so far as I am 
 aware, the only ones in the English language which rhyme with the 
 Ab-sa-ra-ka Burial Refrain. 
 
 BOZEMAN BOLD. 
 
 49 " Bull-boat and raft, mustang and mule." 
 
 Bull-boat is an Indian craft peculiar to the turbid sandbar rivers of 
 the treeless plains, where swarming with buffalo, and are thus con- 
 structed : 
 
 The hair and flesh are removed from a green buffalo-hide which 
 has not been severed, or has been reattached between the upper por- 
 tion of the hind legs. This is then stretched very tightly over cir- 
 cular hoops and connecting ribs of willow or other light brush or 
 small poles, and, being thus allowed to dry, forms a circular boat 
 from four to six feet in diameter and nearly two feet deep, or in a 
 form not unlike a huge flaring-topped cheese-box or a monster, very 
 flat-bottomed, potash-kettle. 
 
 They are sometimes made of two hides, well attached with elk, 
 beaver, or buffalo sinews, and are then relatively larger. They have 
 little steerage, but, in border jargon, "heaps, heaps of float," and 
 are so tough that they are seldom stove on rocks or snags, and so 
 buoyant as to whirl around or glide over snags, sand-bars, or obstacles 
 liable to wreck nearly any other known craft, as I well know from 
 personal experience, having at various times in them descended 
 nearly all of the mighty rivers of the great plains. 
 
I9 6 NOTES. 
 
 With all these advantages they are so light that, after a brief drying 
 in the sun and wind, the lusty pack-horse squaw of a lazy village 
 Indian brave will dexterously toss one of these boats inverted over 
 her head, and with it speedily regain upon the banks the distance lost 
 in the oblique descent of crossing the wide and foaming Missouri or 
 the Yellowstone. 
 
 This is but one of the many inventions of man for utilizing the 
 provisions of nature in surmounting peculiarities of these regions 
 seemingly unsurmountable. 
 
 50 " War-path ford of Crow and Brule." 
 
 An ancient ford of the Yellowstone near the confluence of the 
 Shields River, below the gate of the mountains, famous in all legends 
 of Indian and border warfare. 
 
 51 " Sure, phantom-warriors caused the doom." 
 
 There is no question as to the date or the place of Bozeman's 
 death, which was in 1868, upon the south bank of the Yellowstone 
 River, a few miles below its gate of the mountains. But the versions 
 regarding the premonitions and reputed vision of his family, and the 
 warning of his death, which are said to have caused the stoic indiffer- 
 ence with which so famous a scout and fearless Indian-fighter met his 
 fate, are singularly conflicting. 
 
 The version which, in the light of subsequent events and reputed 
 dying confessions of some of the participants, differs somewhat from 
 that current when I was there soon after his death, and which was 
 literally followed in penning this poetical tribute to his deeds and 
 death. 
 
 THE CLOUD-CIRCLED MOUNTAINS. 
 
 52 "My heart's in the mountains/' etc. 
 
 These stanzas were originally published as the close of an address 
 to the patrons of the " Norris Suburban," upon my leaving for the 
 Wonder- Land in 1877. 
 
NOTES. I97 
 
 WHERE ELSE ON EARTH? 
 
 53 " Where else on earth does water furnish 
 
 Rocky evidence so strong 
 Of its power to build and burnish, 
 As this terrace, high and long T* 
 
 The Terrace Mountain in the National Park, which is two miles in 
 length, nearly one thousand feet high from the valley of the west fork 
 of the Gardiner River above, and more than two thousand feet from 
 the canon of the main Gardiner below it, all of which has apparently 
 been formed by the terrace-building springs, of which the famous 
 Mammoth Hot Springs, whence we supply our table, bath-houses, 
 and irrigate our garden at the headquarters of the Park, is only the 
 dwindling remnant. 
 
 54 " Long its waves, by tempest driven, 
 
 Fiercely lashed its seething shore." 
 
 Doubtless true, as the shore-line terraces of the ancient lake are 
 still plainly traceable upon the sides of the Terrace Mountain and of 
 Bunsen's Peak. 
 
 55 « Then the ever-lashing billows 
 
 Rent a gap in mountain-side." 
 
 This monster erosion in the side of Bunsen's Peak, and the yawn- 
 ing impassable canon of the west fork of the Gardiner, between it 
 and the Terrace Mountain, are in plain view from the balcony of our 
 headquarters at the Mammoth Hot Springs, three miles distant. 
 
 56 " Hence these ruins weird and fearful, 
 And the cliffs so white and grand." 
 
 With a clear-cut outline against the sky, the vertical snowy-white 
 walls of the calcareous marbleized ancient Hot Spring deposits rise 
 many hundreds of feet above the successive miles of the angular 
 debris along the Gardiner below, of the cause or magnitude of which 
 the casual observer will form no adequate conception. 
 
 Only by days of rugged dangerous cliff-climbing upon and beneath 
 the Terrace Mountain, near the Rustic Falls, and along the foot of 
 the white cliffs, can a tourist obtain even a superficial knowledge 
 of the gigantic scale upon which frost, fire, and flood have alternately 
 
 17* 
 
198 NOTES. 
 
 built up, fractured, and eroded this region. Within a distance of 
 four miles from our headquarters, and mainly within plain view 
 thereof, are the summits of Bunsen's Peak, as well as of the Everts, 
 Terrace, and Sepulchre Mountains, the yawning canons of the Three 
 Forks and main Gardiner Rivers, five cataracts, many interesting 
 cascades and rapids, and the grandest evidences of both ancient and 
 modern terrace-building springs known to earth. 
 
 In addition to the descriptions of all the scientists who have visited 
 the terrace-building springs, a brief review of my own observations 
 and theory recording them may be found on pages 13-16 of my report 
 of 1879. 
 
 BRADLEY THE BRAVE. 
 
 5 ? " Last of a race of warriors who served their country well." 
 
 Lieutenant James Bradley was a young but daring Union scout in 
 West Virginia during the three months' service of 1 861, and subse- 
 quently served with distinction under his father, Colonel E. D. Brad- 
 ley, of the Sixty-Eighth Ohio Volunteer Infantry, until the close of 
 the Rebellion. 
 
 He then entered the Seventh Regiment United States Infantry, 
 and served with marked ability, courage, and success upon the 
 border, until, in leading the charge of General Gibbon's Big-Hole 
 fight with Chief Joseph, he was the first white man killed, and was 
 buried amid the valley-willows of the field. 
 
 58 " And green o'er thy grave twine the myrtle and laurel." 
 
 A heartfelt desire that his bones might thus rest beside his heroic 
 kindred in the Christian land of his birth. 
 
 Alas! as shown in the stanzas called "The Warrior's Grave,' , 
 which were subsequently written, these hopes are not to be realized, 
 but, instead, the rank weeds and willows still droop over his vacant 
 grave, and his bones, commingled with those of his foes, doubtless 
 still bleach upon the slaughter-field of the far-distant mountain where 
 he fell. 
 
NOTES. i 99 
 
 FROM BIG-HORN'S BLEAK MOUNTAINS. 
 
 59 " From Big-horn's bleak mountains white glistening with snow, 
 The Big-horn's bright fountains through green meadows flow." 
 
 Romantically and enchantingly true of the, to me, personally well- 
 known valley and its countless timber-fringed streams descending 
 from the snowy bordering mountains, and meandering amid the long, 
 rolling coteaus to their confluence with the river, and of that in the 
 dim outline of the horizon with the mighty Yellowstone. 
 
 These lines were inspired by a distant field-glass view of this 
 matchless landscape from a lofty peak of the Sierra-Shoshone range 
 during the explorations of 1881. 
 
 60 " Till Custer from Rosebud saw valley as sweet." 
 
 Or rather from the summit of the divide to the Big Rosebud River, 
 as distinct from the Rosebud confluent of the Still-Water at the present 
 Crow Indian Agency. 
 
 This is far west of the Big-horn River, while Custer descended a 
 streamlet from the east to his last battle upon the eastern or Little 
 Big-horn (now called Custer River) fork of the Big-horn River, 
 twenty miles above their confluence, near which Fort Custer has since 
 been constructed. 
 
 61 " And Farrer and comrades." 
 
 Colonel Farrer, now of Mount Clemens, Michigan, who led the 
 remnant of the Big-horn expedition of 1870 safely, bringing in the 
 famous Big-horn gun or mountain-howitzer to Bozeman late in thar 
 season. 
 
 THE GRANGER SONG. 
 
 62 " Oh, my rural friend and neighbor, 
 If inclined to roam." 
 
 These stanzas are the portion in rhyme of an address written by 
 request for the Granger Clubs of Michigan, when many persons, to 
 escape the hard times attending a period of financial depression, were 
 rashly rushing from their peaceful homes in a wild crusade for gold 
 
200 NOTES. 
 
 amidst the hostile savages of the Black Hills and Big-horn Moun- 
 tains in 1877. 
 
 BORDER BRAVE. 
 
 63 " Not unavenged, for Looking-Glass." 
 
 This is the name of the famous Nez-Perce chief and favorite coun- 
 sellor of Chief Joseph, who was killed in the decisive Woody Moun- 
 tain fight. 
 
 THE TATTOOED ARTIST. 
 
 64 " I sing of an artist, scribe, poet, and seer, 
 A lover of nature and scoffer at fear." 
 
 This poem has a substantial basis of fact, as may be attested by the 
 hero, if living, as well as by many eye-witnesses of that enthusiastic 
 but somewhat visionary pilgrim correspondent's sketching trip from a 
 Missouri River steamer, long since the days of Catlin. Although 
 the puncture, paint, and singing, as well as the nude gantlet running 
 over cactus, cur, and breech-clout, are, with poetic license, somewhat 
 exaggerated, still they were ample for our artist, and no further ac- 
 quaintance desired with his Indian friends and their families at home. 
 Indeed, sudden, radical, and lasting changes in the opinions of 
 eastern tourists upon their forming the acquaintance of Mr. Lo and 
 his family at home are neither rare nor strange, as there is much to 
 be learned and regretted upon the rival sides of the Indian question, 
 both of which, in these legends and notes, it has been my purpose to 
 faithfully portray, rather than to conceal or misrepresent. 
 
 It will be observed that the Indian words used in this torture-chant 
 are not wholly Da-ko-tian, but those of other tongues or jargons which 
 seemed best calculated for the rapid reiteration peculiar to all Indian 
 songs in their circling dances. The literal rendition of these songs 
 in English is extremely difficult, if not impossible, because of the 
 construction of their sentences, which read backwards, as the thir- 
 
NOTES. 201 
 
 teenth line in the first Indian chant, " Wi-ta-wa-ta (ship) sa-pa 
 (black) wan (one)," or " ship black one," is, in English, one, or " A 
 black ship." 
 
 For the symphony of versification license is also taken in the 
 accent of syllables, as Wa'kan, which is thus transferred from the 
 second syllable to the first, as usually spoken by the white men. 
 
 THE MOSQUITO. 
 
 65 " Like hornet hordes aroused to fury, 
 They greet us to their home." 
 
 Prominent in the journals of all explorers, travellers, and navi- 
 gators since and including those of Lewis and Clarke are their 
 execrations upon the mosquito tormentors of the Missouri and the 
 lower Yellowstone. 
 
 To those pestiferous insects, by whom, despite a turf-smudge, thick 
 gloves, mosquito-net, and head-gear, I was nearly devoured near 
 Fort Buford while penning these lines, are they feelingly, if not 
 affectionately, dedicated. 
 
 FRIGHTENED HANS. 
 
 66 " The shining sands of coteaus reflecting heat like glass." 
 
 This, as is well known, is caused by the action of the constant and 
 often high winds of those regions in carrying along all the finer and 
 lighter portions of the soil, thus polishing like a mirror the upper 
 surface of the pavement-like coating of those which remained. 
 
 " Mirage of gushing fountains dispel their frantic fears." 
 
 Few earthly views are as enchantingly beautiful or as fatally allur- 
 ing as are the mirage-built phantom groves, lakes, and meandering 
 streams to the thirsty, parched, and panting pilgrim upon the treeless 
 prickly-pear plains or grease- wood, alkali deserts of the mighty West. 
 
202 NOTES. 
 
 Nor are these phantoms, in accordance with popular belief, always 
 seen inverted, but often in their natural position, and so lifelike and 
 real that only the practised eye of the rover will perceive that even 
 the lakes and streams are not depressed beneath, but slightly elevated 
 above, the real horizon, hanging, as it were, in the air, with a thin, 
 hazy outline of the earth's surface barely perceptible beneath them. 
 
 67 " Fear of scalding led to roasting on the fated Yellowstone." 
 
 The narrative of the wanderings of Hans and family, his scalding, 
 fright, and Teutonic ejaculations at the hot spring in the Gallatin 
 Valley, as well as their wild stampede and speedy massacre by the 
 Indians upon the Yellowstone, are all substantially true, thus only 
 leaving their death by the ancient Indian mode of roasting not well 
 attested, and hence inferentially chargeable to poetical license by the 
 author. 
 
 AFAR FROM THE CITIES AND HAMLETS 
 
 OF MEN. 
 
 68 " Afar from the cities and hamlets of men, 
 
 I follow the streamlet through forest and glen ; 
 
 The elk with proud antlers enlivens the bowers, 
 
 And brilliant and fragrant the meadows with flowers." 
 
 It is believed that the accuracy of this description of the broad, 
 grove-dotted valley of Cascade Creek above its last canon and falls 
 will ever be conceded by any candid observer. 
 
 Equally true was the presence of the then docile elk and deer in 
 fabulous numbers when my old comrade, Frederick Bottler, there, 
 with seven rapid discharges of his unerring rifle, killed five huge 
 an tiered elk, as, under the title of " The Successful Hunter," is im- 
 mortalized in one of the artist Jackson's photographic views of the 
 Hayden Geological Exploration of 1872. 
 
 69 "As thunders from heavens unclouded I hear." 
 
 A feeling of awe (perhaps partially superstitious) difficult to escape, 
 explain, or even describe, is felt, when reaching the dark pine-fringed 
 
NOTES. 
 
 203 
 
 summits of the divide upon the trail from the open meadows of the 
 cascade, upon a bright, cloudless summer's day one emerges at once 
 into full view of the halo-fringed clouds of mist, and into hearing 
 of the heavy booms of the canon-hidden triple falls and roaring 
 rapids of the Mystic River, the latter ever varying in volume and 
 cadence, and the former in their form and brilliancy of coloring with 
 the direction or velocity of the balmy mountain breeze. 
 
 70 " Adown to the lichens, mist-nourished and green, 
 
 Where the floods as a deluge from heaven are seen." 
 
 As at other great cascades or cataracts, the showers of spray at the 
 Great Falls of the Yellowstone nourish a carpet of moss and lichens 
 of various forms and brilliant shades of yellow and green coloring, 
 which form a dense but slightly adherent, and to the footsteps 
 treacherous covering to the dripping rocks around them. 
 
 This I found dangerously evident upon the lower portion and 
 nearly vertical and crumbling brilliantly red- and yellow-tinted walls 
 of the Grand Canon of the Yellowstone, upon my descent thereof 
 alone in 1875. 
 
 This was from where our rustic bridge now spans Spring Creek, 
 adown or near its jagged waterway to the river, a portion of which, 
 by the subsequent dislodgment of a huge mass of the wall-rock at 
 the Red Pinnacles, is now impassable. 
 
 The present route is along a rude pathway which I recently made 
 from just above these pinnacles, directly across the face of the sliding 
 shales, to a jutting point of crumbling rocks about five hundred feet 
 directly below our now pole-railed Point Lookout, and thence by 
 a rough, very steep, but direct descent of five hundred feet to the 
 foaming river. 
 
 In small parties only should persons attempt this descent, as to the 
 usual danger of a misstep and headlong descent to horrid death is 
 the still greater one from dislodged masses or fragments of the crum- 
 bling wall-rock, which in velocity nearly and in danger fully equal 
 projectiles from a park of artillery. This is now the nearest point of 
 descent or of approach to the foot of the Great Falls upon the north- 
 west side ; but by rafting, or, in very low water, fording the river 
 something less than a mile above the Upper Falls, or at them if the 
 projected bridge be constructed, tourists will be able to reach the 
 grove-capped cliff overlooking the Great Falls. Thence, by proper 
 
204 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 effort and care from crumbling rocks and slippery lichens, persons 
 may safely descend to the river and as near to the foot of the Great 
 Falls as the matchless rebound of the sheet of water from its nearly 
 four hundred feet of vertical descent will allow, and where it is 
 believed the poet's description of lichens, mist-clouds, and halos, as 
 well as of " the floods as a deluge from heaven," will be verified and 
 appreciated. 
 
 71 " Henceforth be my music the cataract's roar." 
 
 At the risk of seeming egotism, I would briefly note that these 
 words differ more in form than in sentiment from those to be found 
 in my printed " Journals of Rambles in the Far West" at the time of 
 my first visit to these falls. 
 
 Nor have my subsequent encampments in the Glen of the Cascade, 
 while making the bridge and other improvements above the Grotto 
 Pool and Crystal and other falls, or at my other secluded haunts amid 
 their commingled spray and thunders during Indian raids, lessened 
 but rather increased my attachment for this rainbow-spanned refuge 
 from the gilded haunts of fashion and pleasure, and the crafty wiles 
 of the politician, the speculator, or the money-lender, in these days 
 when proffered friendship is too oft a lure, and real friendship a 
 cherished vision of the past, — in these enlightened but degenerate 
 days, when far too often robbery and betrayal of public trusts are 
 viewed and punished in inverse ratio to the magnitude of the crime 
 and the numbers and position of the shares of the spoils, and man is 
 prized less for his birthright as such, or for his principles and practices 
 of true manhood, than for the wealth or the influence which by any 
 means, ever so reprehensible, he may have acquired. 
 
 Hence my changeless attachment to these unpolluted scenes of the 
 grandest handiwork of nature's God as a refuge alike in life, and in 
 death a tomb, earnestly trusting that if in this wild region it be mine 
 to fall, my final resting-place may be beneath the moaning pines and 
 balsams of my chosen camping-grove whenever able to cross the 
 river to reach it upon the southern cliffs, amid the spray, overlooking 
 the Great Falls, that my unfettered spirit in its earthly visitations 
 may be greeted by the scenes and sounds so appreciated and enjoyed 
 while tenanting its transient refuge of clay. 
 
NOTES, 
 
 205 
 
 OH, IS THERE IN THIS WORLD SO DREAR? 
 
 72 " In crumbling home of friends afar." 
 
 The ruins of the famous Baronet cabin, upon the high, huge granite 
 boulder-strewn basaltic point above the confluence of the two forks 
 of the Yellowstone River. 
 
 It occupied the site of one previously burned by the Indians, which 
 (aside from the loop-hole, earth-roofed block-house of unknown build- 
 ers, the ruins of which are referred to on page 7 of my official report 
 of 1878) was the first residence known to have ever been constructed 
 by white men within the subsequently dedicated Yellowstone National 
 Park, and at few places, other than the regular battle-fields in all these 
 regions, has there occurred more varied or thrilling scenes than within 
 or around it. 
 
 73 " Above the ceaseless dash and roar, 
 
 Where mountain torrents greet." 
 
 The forks of the Yellowstone River, forty miles below the lake and 
 twenty below the Great Falls, upon its main fork, and where, only from 
 these falls to the confluence of the Gardiner River, a distance of fifty 
 miles in the Grand Canon of the Yellowstone, is there a wagon-route 
 of approach to the stream. 
 
 Neither of these dashing mountain torrents are there ever frozen 
 over; safely fordable, or even approachable, where the first, and for 
 ten years the only, bridge ever crossed any portion of the mighty 
 Yellowstone River, was built over the main fork, just above their 
 confluence, by Jack Baronet and other Clarke's Fork miners in 187 1. 
 
 This poem was inspired and partly written by the camp-fires when 
 I was alone at this cabin in August, 1877. 
 
 I then found it only a haunt of howling beasts and screaming 
 birds of prey, gathered upon the decaying bones and decomposing 
 fragments of the flesh and hides of game left by Charley Reynolds 
 and other friends, whose companionship I had there enjoyed in 1875, 
 and from a soul-harrowing view of whose bleaching bones upon the 
 Custer slaughter-field I had just returned. 
 
 Sad as were my feelings then, a forecast of the events soon tc 
 follow could have only darkened the shade. 
 
 Within one week from that time I passed that bridge, clinging tc 
 
 18 
 
206 NOTES. 
 
 my horse, faint from the loss of blood from an accidental wound re- 
 ceived at Tower Falls, and within one month thereafter the trail 
 which I then followed to the falls of the Gardiner was dusty with the 
 tramp of a portion of Chief Joseph's hostile Nez-Perces and their 
 captured horses, and en crimsoned w r ith the gore of their slaughtered 
 owners ; the bridge was partly burned by them in their matchless 
 retreat, and the cabin was dismantled for material for its repair by 
 General Howard, in his long, patient, and then misunderstood and 
 misrepresented pursuit. 
 
 TO THE TIE AT HOME. 
 
 ? 4 Far away on the cliffs of this wild roaring river." 
 
 These stanzas, which doubtless evince more pathos than poetry, 
 may be less esteemed by the public than the poet, from the circum- 
 stances under which they were written. 
 
 As noted in my journal, and published in my report of 1877, by 
 the sudden sundering of a stirrup-strap I was precipitated from a 
 bucking horse over a ledge of rocks, so seriously injuring my neck 
 and spine as to compel me to return to the head of the falls of the 
 middle fork of the East Gardiner, where I fainted from the loss of 
 blood and over-exertion. 
 
 After recovering sufficiently to crawl to the brink and swallow a 
 cupful of the delicious water, by painful effort I was enabled to make 
 a rude couch of my blanket and some balsam boughs beneath the 
 trees at the eastern end of where the bridge now spans the quivering 
 brink of the falls. 
 
 There, while by weakness and the music of the falling waters lulled 
 into semi-unconsciousness, the prelude and much of the poem was 
 pencilled in my memorandum-book, hopeful that if, as then seemed 
 probable, I should there perish alone, my remains might perchance 
 be found and these lines reach her for whom they were intended. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 THE WARRIOR'S GRAVE. 
 
 207 
 
 75 " A mould'ring plate and headboard." 
 
 This is all that was found upon Gibbons's and Chief Joseph's battle- 
 field of the Big-Hole Pass, which I could so fully identify as pertain- 
 ing to the fated " Bradley the Brave" as to feel justified in conveying 
 to his mourning friends. 
 
 This visit was made through deep snows from the Bitter Root 
 Valley, some months after the publication of my tribute to his 
 memory, and, alas ! the bones of that friend of other days and 
 scenes had been dragged from their shallow resting-place amid the 
 willows, near where he fell, by ravenous beasts who still haunted the 
 field. 
 
 At the time of my visit they nightly retramped the snow, and, in 
 search for food, overturned the remnants of garments, blankets, and 
 horse-hides, and in hideous revels more fully commingled the bleach- 
 ing bones of fallen friend and foe. 
 
 BLAZE BRIGHTLY, O CAMP-FIRE! 
 
 76 " Earth's treasures all vanished, no heaven to gain." 
 
 The immediate incentive for penning these stanzas was the jocular 
 remark of a comrade of its being fortunate for him that, when he 
 had once, within the space of a few months, squandered a fortunate 
 stake, or placer find, of seventy-five thousand dollars, that it was not 
 a hundred thousand, or he could not have survived the attendant 
 dissipation. 
 
 This, and similar admissions of other comrades beside our cedar- 
 sheltered camp-fires during a terrific mountain snow-storm, recalled 
 painfully recollections of the needless failure and hopeless fall of 
 kind, and some of them morally-reared and well-educated comrades 
 gone, still destitute of graves, or filling only dishonored ones, all 
 along my checkered pathway of wandering upon the border. 
 
 Hence these lines of pensive, mournful reflection are published, 
 
208 NOTES. 
 
 hopeful that they may beneficially recall in the really noble heart of 
 some rough-clad mountaineer the scenes of his innocent childhood 
 and guileless youth, the instructions of the week-day and the lessons 
 of the Sabbath-school, the tender admonitions and parting prayers 
 of loving kindred now peacefully slumbering beneath the willows in 
 the consecrated cemetery of some distant Christian land. 
 
 UNION OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 77 " For the ever-fickle river veered away to meet its mate." 
 
 A proverbial characteristic of the Missouri River is the ceaseless 
 shifting of its muddy channel, which, by occurring at the point of its 
 confluence with the Yellowstone, effected the channel at the fur- 
 traders' old Fort Union above it, thus contributing to its abandonment 
 and the subsequent construction of Fort Buford below the confluence. 
 
 78 "And the fort, its cache and lodges, were abandoned to their fate.'* 
 
 The bank of the Missouri River above Fort Union being very dry 
 and easily excavated, has been from time immemorial a favorite 
 cacheing site; and having assisted in making several there and many 
 elsewhere, I will briefly describe the operation. This originally 
 French word cache (usually pronounced cash), or hiding-place, has 
 long been the universal and appropriate name for a deposit of corn, 
 furs, blankets, or in fact anything a party desires to bury safely for 
 another occasion, usually for concealment, but sometimes only for 
 safety from the animals and elements. In horizontal layers of soft sand- 
 stone, like that near Fort Union, a place is selected where there is a 
 foot or so of loose sand-covering, which is removed, and a circular 
 hole large enough to admit a man is after a foot or so gradually en- 
 larged to the desired size, shaped when completed much like a very 
 low broad earthen jug. When the floor and sides are covered with 
 a layer of dry brush or bulrush mats, or both, it is filled with the 
 utmost care, that it may not settle and betray the site. The top is 
 then crammed with hides, the mouth well filled with the removed 
 rocks, the sand replaced, and every vestige of goods, rocks, etc., 
 carefully removed in sacks or skins, and thrown, often several miles 
 
NOTES. 
 
 209 
 
 away, into a stream or lake. When thus completed, a camp fire over 
 or near the mouth, with the usual tramping of men and animals, and 
 a few hours of sand-drifting,' so fully obliterate all trace that actual 
 knowledge or digging alone will disclose it. When the site is a pure 
 sand-bank, the cache must widen less and be better supported and 
 packed ; and if in a grove, a dry bush or a cedar or other hardy shrub, 
 not soon wilting or changing color, even if dying, is most carefully 
 cut around and lifted, with all the earth possible attached, upon a 
 skin or blanket, and, when completed, replaced; and so well is all 
 concealed in these vast regions, that I have little doubt fewer caches 
 are actually found and robbed than are lost by the sudden removal or 
 death of the owners. 
 
 The ruins of old Fort Union are still plainly traceable between the 
 present earth-lodge village of the mongrel Indians and the long line 
 of mainly abandoned caches along the sandy bluffs above it. 
 
 79 " Oh, for bard to chant their requiem ! Oh, for storied pen to save." 
 
 This is the language of a heartfelt desire, which above all else has 
 cheered my untutored pen in tracing as well as I am able a few of the 
 countless well-known incidents and legends of the border, hopeful 
 that the basis and language of fact may somewhat atone for the want 
 of plot and finish found in the polished w T orks of fiction. 
 
 OH, FOR BARD TO TRULY TREASURE. 
 
 80 " Oh, for bard to truly treasure 
 
 Border scenes of days agone \" 
 
 To a person reared upon the border and familiar with the thrilling 
 scenes and trying reverses of a life among the animals and aborigines 
 of the plains, the deserts, and the mountains of what was then truly 
 the pathless unknown West, the sincere but erroneous eastern senti- 
 mentalism regarding the Indian upon one hand, and the less humane 
 but more practical opinions of the western pioneer upon the other, 
 offer food for mature reflection, a broad field for the gleaning of 
 facts, and ample scope for marshalling and recording them in au- 
 thentic history by an abler pen than mine. 
 18* 
 
210 NOTES. 
 
 But time is invaluable ; the fiat of fate has gone forth that the on- 
 ward march of the race of resistless destiny is to mould or annihilate 
 all along its pathway; that the wild man and the wild beast shall 
 alike become civilized or domesticated and useful in a practical age 
 of progress if they will, and be exterminated if they will not. 
 
 Hence the constant evidence that the blood-curdling war-whoop, 
 the defiant battle rally, the rifle-ring, dying scream, and, alas! the 
 sickening scalp-dance of to-day are replaced by the peaceful music 
 of the woodsman's axe or the blacksmith's forge and factory whistle, 
 the lowing of domestic flocks and herds, or the gleaner's carol around 
 the peaceful homes and crowded school-rooms of to-morrow. 
 
 The spouting heart's-blood and festering flesh, alas ! of fallen ones 
 upon the gory fields of death of the season past fertilize the growing 
 plant upon the harvest-fields of gladdening grain of that to come, for 
 the use of a people who cease from their labors, and at the cheering 
 peals of the Sabbath bell congregate in their steeplcd churches, to 
 return thanks for the countless blessings of earth and the priceless 
 promises of Heaven. 
 
 And hence, sternly but unregretfully, the polished ploughshare of 
 human progress shall be driven rough-shod and relentless alike over 
 the deserted village-sites and decaying bones of a race hesitating to 
 enlist under its floating banner and keep step to its marching music. 
 
 The generation of the path-finding, death-daring planters of civil- 
 ization and their paint- and plume-bedecked warrior opponents is 
 rapidly gliding away; and if this duty of gathering and truthfully 
 recording incidents of the border be neglected until the actors are 
 fled, ere long they will be known only in the unreal sensation-tales 
 of dime novels or yellow-covered literature, or else merged in the 
 wild legends of mingled fact and fiction, of truth and romance, to 
 swell the volumes of unreliable future history, which might have been 
 authentic. 
 
 RUSTIC BRIDGE AND CRYSTAL FALLS. 
 
 81 " Will these feet that trip so lightly 
 O'er this structure rude but strong." 
 
 These stanzas were pencilled, read, and dedicated September 4, 
 1880, to the first party of tourists who crossed the then unfinished 
 
NOTES. 
 
 211 
 
 bridge over the Grotto Pool and Crystal Falls, a sketch of which may- 
 be found on page 21 of my report of 188 1, and also with this poem. 
 
 Names of the persons comprising the party : Mrs. G. W. Monroe, 
 Mrs. W. J. Beal, Miss Mamie Evans, Miss Mamie Langehorne, Miss 
 Prudence Burchard, Miss Nettie Ray, Mr. Jack Baronet, Mr. George 
 Miles, Mr. Walter Burleigh, Mr. David Roberts. 
 
 Of these persons Jack Baronet was the guide; George Miles, of 
 Miles City, upon the Lower Yellowstone, is a nephew of the gallant 
 fighting general N. D. Miles, and the others were residents of Boze- 
 man, Montana Territory, or their friends. 
 
 HIGH TOWERS THE CRAGGY SUMMIT. 
 
 82 "And beavers build their wiek-e-ups where warm the waters flow." 
 
 As may be found in the Glossary, wickeups is the Sho-shone Indian 
 name for the conical hollow brush-heap often used by them for a 
 summer dwelling, and by the pigmy Pi-utes and Digger Indians of 
 the Humboldt and other greasewood alkali deserts at any season of 
 the year where no cave in the rocks or lava-beds are convenient, and 
 they are not too lazy or too busy in securing a food-supply of berries, 
 crickets, and lizards to build one. 
 
 These are all of one story, while those of the beaver are of two, 
 one of which is partially and the other wholly above water, and, 
 saving the size, is in all respects the better and more permanent 
 structure, and the occupants far more ingenious, industrious, and 
 provident. 
 
 The favorite haunts of these animals are the tepid dam-obstructed 
 outlets of many of the hot-spring basins, which are seldom frozen 
 over so as to obstruct their use as canals for the floating of their sup- 
 plies of willows or other wood, upon which or the bark of it they 
 mainly subsist. 
 
 83 " Gigantic wrecks of forests, all fossilized to stone." 
 
 In the face of the usually nearly vertical cliffs, more than two 
 thousand feet high, fronting the Soda-Butte and the east fork of the 
 Yellowstone River, near their confluence, may be seen as plainly as 
 
212 NOTES. 
 
 in bas-relief countless trunks of the primeval forest-trees, still erect 
 as they grew, or prostrate as they were crushed, buried, and fossilized 
 in the successive or alternating deposits of submergence and enormous 
 overflow of oozy volcanic mud and slime. The long horizontal lines 
 of demarcation between the various deposits arc clear and distinct, 
 and some of them so thin that the silisified trees (which were mainly 
 diverse from those now growing in the Park, and in size fairly rival- 
 ling those of the Pacific coast) must have extended through and above 
 them. 
 
 Startling as is this theory of the successive alternations of submer- 
 gence, oozy overflow, forest growths vertically, the roots of one above 
 or in place of the tops of that beneath it, and seemingly incredible 
 the hypothesis, yet it devolves upon future geological research to dis- 
 prove surface indications and establish a better one. 
 
 As many of these trunks, both erect and prostrate, are in sections 
 containing caskets lined with beautiful amethyst and other crystals, 
 the fossil-forests alone, of the countless marvels of the Wonder-Land, 
 are to the scientist and the nation worth the cost of the dedication, 
 protection, and opening routes of access to all of them. 
 
 84 ' ' All nature seems in contrast, in beauty, size, or awe, — 
 Creation, growth, and ruin, the universal law \" 
 
 Literally and proverbially true of nearly every portion, feature, and 
 marvel of the people's Wonder- Land. 
 
 LONELY GLEN. 
 
 85 " 'Tis lion's scream resounding." 
 
 The midnight screams of a cougar, or mountain-lion, echoing from 
 the cliffs to my lonely camp-fire in the glen just above the Great Falls 
 of the Yellowstone, where one member of a party of tourists was 
 killed, others wounded, and all of their animals and outfit captured 
 by the hostile Nez-Perces in 1877. 
 
NOTES, 213 
 
 REYNOLDS'S DIRGE. 
 
 86 " My fagots were ruins of teepee : and tent, 
 
 'Mid war-robes and blankets all gory and rent." 
 
 Literally true, at the camp-fire of myself and Baronet, upon the 
 site of the hastily abandoned Indian village just below Reno's valley 
 field. 
 
 From this, as referred to in the note to Gallant Charley Reynolds, 
 we escaped in the twilight to a little grove of cottonwoods in a deep 
 wash-out of the plains, five or six miles towards the Big-horn, and 
 then cooked and ate a slight supper nearly under the trees then sup- 
 porting the remains of several blanket-robed braves, who were doubt- 
 less killed or mortally wounded in the Custer or Reno fights. 
 
 Hence we proceeded cautiously some miles farther towards the 
 Big-horn, and bivouacked until morning, meanwhile securing such 
 sleep as we could obtain, each with a hand holding one end of the 
 lariat of his grazing horse, with the stars for his canopy, blanket- 
 covered cactus for his couch, and saddle for his pillow. 
 
 For a mountaineer I am not deemed superstitious; but from the 
 proximity of the bones of my comrade Charley of a few months pre- 
 ceding, then attached to the cantle of my Spanish saddle, the fervid 
 imagination of nerves overstrained amid the recent harrowing scenes, 
 or merely the flickering phantoms of a poet's vision, the incidents of 
 the dirge were conjured, and at the dawn the last verse was hastily 
 written, the first being subsequently prefixed. 
 
 87IN CABIN, CAMP, OR COUNCIL. 
 
 The poem dedicated to General H. D. Washburn with the accom- 
 panying notes explains our nearly life-long acquaintance and friend- 
 ship, and hence desire that my explorations in those regions should 
 be commemorated by the second peak of Mount Washburn, rather 
 than the first of the Gallatin range, which I explored in 1875. 
 
 During October, 1878, accompanied by the daring mountaineers 
 Adam Miller and George Rowland, by dangerous cliff-climbing in the 
 
214 NOTES. 
 
 snow along the terribly-broken brink of the Grand Canon, I turned 
 the northernmost and far the worst spur of Mount Washburn, and 
 camped in a clump of pines and balsams, upon one of the larger trees 
 of which our record may still be found. 
 
 This is one-fourth of a mile easterly and several hundred feet 
 below where our. Grand Canon trail now crosses the spur in Rowland's 
 Pass, which alone I discovered, explored, and named the same even- 
 ing, while Miller shot an elk and Rowland used a portion of the flesh 
 in the preparation of our welcome evening's repast. 
 
 Beside this camp-fire amid the snow, exhilarated by the first suc- 
 cessful effort of scaling this spur of Mount Washburn by white men 
 of which I have any knowledge, and justly confident that we had 
 found a new and valuable route between the snowy mountain-crest 
 and the yawning cafion-brink, these few lines of, as I then believed, 
 correct dedication of these towering peaks were written. 
 
 The subsequent discovery that Prof. F. V. Hayden had meanwhile 
 very properly commemorated the visit, in 1874, of the famous Scottish 
 traveller and writer, the Earl Dun- Raven, and transferred my name 
 from that now called Bell's Peak, of the Gallatin range, to the one 
 which still retains it towards the Goblin-Land, I cheerfully acqui- 
 esced; but the pith of the poem vanished, and is published only in 
 connection with historical facts deemed more valuable. 
 
 THE ARTIST STANLEY. 
 
 88 " But ' Uncas' and ' War-path' and ' Signal' shall stay." 
 
 These are the names of some of the few paintings, now chromos, 
 which were saved from the general destruction of the artist Stanley's 
 famous gallery of Indian paintings by an accidental conflagration in 
 a room of the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, where they had 
 been placed for safety, exhibition, and sale during the war of the 
 Rebellion. 
 
NOTES. 215 
 
 BURIAL TEEPEE. 
 
 89 "The Ab-sa-ra-ka chieftain most bravely fighting fell." 
 
 The famous Long-Horse, chief of the Absaraka, or Crow, nation of 
 Indians, who fell and was entombed in a magnificent war-teepee, as 
 portrayed in the poem, which was written upon my visit to his buria 
 teepee and of the place of conflict soon after his death in 1875. 
 
 BOLD TRAPPER OF THE CAMP-FIRE. 
 
 90 " Bold trapper of the camp-fire." 
 
 Jones Whitney, a youthful trapper comrade along the great lakes 
 and in the wilds of Northwestern Ohio. 
 
 He there married, and soon after removed with his family to the 
 Walla-Walla Valley in Oregon. There, by the assistance of a faithful 
 Indian friend, he escaped one of the border massacres, and in a long 
 and perilous journey, with the snowy crest of Mount Hood as a guide 
 by day, and the stars by night, ultimately reached the Dalles of the 
 Columbia in safety, where he settled, prospered, and, after repaying 
 in the East my visit of 1870, died, a wealthy and esteemed Christian 
 citizen. 
 
 The ties of early association in jointly sharing the perils of border- 
 life by day and the weary watch by night are dearer and as enduring 
 as those blood akin ; nor will any of the bent, bald, or grizzled rem- 
 nant of the early path-finders fail to understand, and perchance ap- 
 preciate, this border mode of expressing regret for comrades gone, 
 or the blending of trails and camp-fires in some mountain glen or 
 sheltered park of that hoped-for better land. 
 
 THE WARRIOR'S DIRGE. 
 
 91 " Gone, brave brother, gone from the suffering and strife." 
 
 Brevet Colonel Thomas B. Weir, captain of the Seventh Regiment 
 of United States Cavalry, died suddenly of congestion of the brain 
 
216 NOTES. 
 
 at his recruiting station in New York City soon after his return from 
 *ie disastrous campaign of the Little Big-horn in 1876. 
 
 CYPRESS SHADOWS. 
 
 92 " Where the long reeds quiver, where the pines make moan." 
 
 This fitting requiem beneath the plaintive moan of the waving 
 pine-tops at the silent burial, without religious ceremony, or a burial- 
 casket of an emigrant's child beside a malarial bayou in the sterile 
 pine-knobs of Northeastern Minnesota, came like electric flash along 
 nearly forty years of fading reminiscences of kindred scenes in the 
 Calumet Desert at the head of Lake Michigan. Such scenes are, 
 alas! ever too frequent among the poor but worthy pioneers of civil- 
 ization, who brave the diseases and the dangers of the border hopeful 
 of a quiet home in their old age and of benefiting the children. 
 
 I'VE TRAILED THE PROUD COLUMBIA. 
 
 93 " And here I pause and ponder at trace of friend of old." 
 
 William Turnage, in all those regions only known by his sobriquet, 
 "Shirt-collar Bill," the famous scout, guide, and packer, with whom 
 I visited the Steptoe and other battle-fields of the great Oregon Indian 
 war of 1856; and we by ourselves encamped a night beneath the 
 basaltic walls of the deeply-eroded canon of the Peluse, between its 
 mouth at Snake River and its sacred falls, seven miles above, in 1870. 
 We slept in our blankets only, among the bleaching bones of the 
 numerous pinto and coyuse horses, which died of the*ir wounds, of 
 starvation, or were slain for food by the remnant of the whites, while 
 here for many weeks hemmed in by the victorious Indians after the 
 Steptoe defeat, and where, in the days of close fighting with knife, 
 hatchet, and bows and arrows, or at best mainly with short-range, 
 muzzle-loading, flint-lock guns, which, from the liability of the 
 
NOTES. 217 
 
 powder to flash in the pan, were never a reliable gun at vertical 
 firing, the incidents are said to have occurred substantially as re- 
 lated in the poem. 
 
 HO, WAKEN! 
 
 w " Ho, waken, you dwellers in chambers of clay, 
 
 Arise from your slumbers and welcome the day [" 
 
 These lines are an imaginary address to a group of skeletons which 
 I found in a walled-up timber- and cement-covered vault in the base 
 of a great earth-mound on the commanding bluff above East Du- 
 buque, Illinois, during my past season's ethnological researches in 
 the Mississippi Valley. The oak-timber ceiling was so decayed as to 
 have fallen in, but the cement or dried-mortar roof was still intact, 
 and the skeletons of six adult persons, four children, and one infant, 
 the latter in its mother's fleshless arms, were mouldering from a sit- 
 ting posture in a circle around sea-shell dishes, weapons, and uten- 
 sils of stone, fragments of pottery, and rude shell-ornaments. 
 
 96 " And whose is this dust in these chambers beside?" 
 
 Each end of the vault was partially walled off, and contained sev- 
 eral bushels of very fine cremated human dust, brought and thus 
 carefully garnered from some unknown and perhaps distant locality ; 
 although several of this group of mounds which I opened in 1857, 
 and others near Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, during the past season, 
 were unmistakably cremation-mounds above the skeletons of persons 
 carefully buried in the earth beneath them. 
 
 96 " And why are these ramparts so lofty and long 
 
 Widespread o'er the plains where the antelope throng 1" 
 
 This group of mounds is near the southern border of the famous 
 
 Effigy mounds of Wisconsin, the beasts, birds, and reptiles of which, 
 
 including the so-called Elephant Mound, one hundred and forty-six 
 
 feet in length, are along the Mississippi uniformly headed southward. 
 
 K 19 
 
2l8 NOTES. 
 
 NORTHERN CLIME. 
 
 97 " Faint I recall, through mists of time." 
 
 This poem is intended less as the description of any one trip to the 
 pathless Northwest than of the usual incidents attending all of them, 
 as well as the tragic fate of the participators, not one of whom that 
 ascended the Saskatchewan, so far as I am aware, is now living. In 
 fact, the sole survivor of those early trapper and trader friends, even 
 those who did not cross the British line with the Hudson Bay traders, 
 is the energetic, ever-temperate, moral, honorable, and now esteemed- 
 and honored ex-State-senator D. W. H. Howard, now of Wauseon, 
 Fulton County, Ohio, to whom none of the too often just denuncia- 
 tions of the border trader in any sense apply. 
 
 DE SOTO. 
 
 98 " Damp was the day and dreary, the night was dark and cold ; 
 Worn were my limbs and weary, my refuge hovel old." 
 
 The incidents in these lines truthfully-portrayed in connection 
 with the production of this historical poem w T ere thus preceded and 
 followed. Of my ethnological work during the past season were re- 
 searches of the famous flat-topped mounds, earthwork enclosures, 
 and unique pottery-filled cemeteries of a supposed prehistoric people 
 along the Southern bayous, lakes, and rivers. Commingled with 
 these, from the foot-hills of the Ozark Mountains in Missouri and 
 Arkansas, at various places along the Black, White, and notably the 
 St. Francis Rivers below the "sunk lands" of the great earthquake 
 of i8n and '12, as well as from Memphis to Napoleon along the Mis- 
 sissippi, and much of the country visited beyond it, are detached earth- 
 works, popularly believed to be the work of De Soto and his followers 
 during their years of wanderings in these regions nearly three centuries 
 and a half ago. One of these is near Helena, another where it is claimed 
 their brigantines were built, at Old Town, thirty-five miles (by the 
 river) below in Arkansas, and another in Mississippi, nearly opposite 
 the latter, but somewhat back from the river, near the fine residence 
 
NOTES. 
 
 219 
 
 and hospitable home of the brothers J. and J. G. Carson, which they 
 have constructed upon the circular acre of flat summit to an ancient 
 mound fully twenty feet high. While engaged in researches of this 
 and similar mounds adjacent, I spent the day and night preceding, 
 and the forenoon of Christmas, 1882, there finding and partially 
 perusing a brief narrative of De Soto's wanderings and death, being 
 the first connected record of them which I had ever seen. Christmas 
 afternoon I rode six miles to Frier's Point, crossed the skiff-ferry to 
 Westover, and finding no better mode that night, in a rude dug-out 
 mule-trough as a canoe, aided by a colored man, and my spade as a 
 paddle, descended the Mississippi ten miles, and obtained such board 
 and lodging as I could at Old Town, now reduced to a residence 
 and a rum-hole, such as they are. 
 
 Although there are some fine ranches along the shores of Long and 
 Old Town Lakes, which naturally outlet here, I was unable during the 
 holidays to obtain help in the severe but successful labor of opening 
 ancient mounds and earthworks, and securing human skeletons, 
 unique pottery, and other interesting relics. With health seriously 
 impaired by a direct transfer from years of duty in the cool, bracing 
 Northern air at the fountain-heads of this mighty river to the malarious 
 fogs of the Southern cypress-swamps and bayous fully four thousand 
 miles adovvn it, and unable to obtain a guide or horse, I returned 
 from an arduous day's effort in measuring and sketching some large 
 and interesting ruins in the cane-brakes six miles towards Modock, 
 wet, weary, and seriously ill. There, in my rude depository of relics, 
 without fire, light, or window, with strangely blended thoughts of 
 my cheerful distant home, of the ancient occupants of the place, the 
 embarkation of Moscoso's remnant of De Soto's band, and the fate 
 of both, I sought unrefreshing slumbers, from which I was startled 
 by the brief tumult of a descending steamer and the howling of a tran- 
 sient winter's storm. Shivering in the dreary dawn, this record of my 
 night's vision was commenced, continued at intervals in the measure- 
 ments of the works attributed to Moscoso during that day, and con- 
 cluded upon that following, while in an old abandoned cabin upon the 
 opposite side of the river awaiting a steamer, and slightly reviewed in 
 the pleasant cabin of the " Golden Crown" Ohio boat while ascending 
 to Helena. It was then laid aside during my subsequent researches 
 along the Yazoo and Sunflower Rivers, and now revised, and, to- 
 gether with this note of explanation, added to my volume of Legends 
 
220 NOTES. 
 
 now in press, as the sole contribution from a region pre-eminent in 
 those which are thrilling, hopeful the poem is not too deeply tinted by 
 the sombre shadows surrounding its couch of birth. 
 
 It is also earnestly hoped that no language of this poem will be 
 thought to wantonly assail any nationality or religion. Surely the in 
 part lineal descendant of the in many respects justly lauded " Pil- 
 grims of Plymouth Rock," who frankly condemns their witch-burning, 
 Quaker-expelling, and kindred acts of bigotry, intolerance, and per- 
 secution towards those of their own race in the very refuge to which 
 they fled to escape it themselves, may be pardoned for recalling his- 
 torical facts and wholesale pillage or slaughter of alien pagans in 
 distant lands, — acts which were approved, lauded, and rewarded by 
 prince and pontiff in the age of the actors, when professed religion 
 was, alas ! too often propagated alike beneath the Crescent and the 
 Cross, with the Bible for a shield to the breast of one party, and 
 potent arguments from the battle-axe, the scimiter, or the sabre to 
 that of the other. 
 
 99 " Amid the holly shadows, upon the gory plain, 
 
 Uncoffined sleep and moulder two hundred sons of Spain." v 
 
 As the charming impression derived from a view of the deep-green 
 foliage of a grove of moaning pines, adown a mountain slope, along 
 a meandering stream, or upon a landscape of wintry snow, even so 
 is the thrilling effect of a view of the glistening green leaves and 
 brilliant red clusters of the low-branching holly, fringing the sluggish 
 bayous, bordering the sombre-hued, moss-draped gigantic forests or 
 the boundless savannas of the sunny South, while these evergreens 
 are there as beautiful and as prized in the towns of the living or the 
 cemeteries of the dead as are the matchless green and outline of the 
 fragrant balsam in those of the frozen North. Hence the appropriate- 
 ness of the holly-grove upon the slaughter-field of Mau-il-la, which 
 was alike one of the most wanton and merciless slaughters of the 
 innocent natives, and also terrible and far-reaching retributions upon 
 the white invaders, of the long catalogue of the Indian battles of our 
 country. The narrative shows that De Soto entered a thriving forti- 
 fied town, with the chieftain a captive, and a long retinue of slaves 
 loaded with nearly all of their ammunition, spare arms, camp equip- 
 age, and countless valuable pearls and other ornaments taken from 
 the living or plundered from the graves. of the dead, and that they 
 
NOTES. 221 
 
 left it a smouldering funeral pyre, alike of the two thousand five hun- 
 dred defenders, and nearly all of their slaves, ammunition, camp outfit, 
 and plunder, more than one-third of their number dead, and the most 
 of the remainder wounded around it. So galling were his losses that 
 De Soto, rather than continue his march one hundred miles to where 
 he knew there were vessels and supplies awaiting him at (probably) 
 Mobile, but where his reverses in fortune would also become known 
 to the world, chose to conceal this knowledge from his followers ; 
 and turning his back upon all succor, without ammunition or supplies, 
 followed a wandering life of rapine to a remorseful death and un- 
 coffined grave at a now unknown locality beneath the turbid waters 
 of the mighty river which he discovered. After nearly a year of 
 wandering through Arkansas and adjacent regions, months of brigan- 
 tine-building and terrible fighting and suffering, a remnant of the 
 band under Moscoso reached a Spanish colony in Mexico, nearly 
 five years after their landing in Florida, which was May 30, 1539. 
 
 Although many statements in the narrative of these wanderers 
 seem too thrilling to be true, yet in my researches of ancient remains 
 in those regions I found much to sustain and little to disprove their 
 accounts, that without regard to who constructed the flat-topped 
 mounds, the natives of De Soto's time certainly occupied them in 
 the midst of hamlets of plaster-walled and thatch-roofed residences, 
 protected by strong palisades and surrounded by extensive cornfields 
 and gardens ; and no statements of the poem are unsustained by the 
 narrative of the first white explorers of any portion of the mighty 
 Mississippi Valley. 
 
 19* 
 
GLOSSARY.* 
 
 DEFINITION OF INDIAN WORDS AND PROVIN- 
 CIALISMS USED BY THE AUTHOR IN THE 
 PRECEDING VOLUME OF LEGENDS. 
 
 A - 
 
 Ab' sa-ra f ka (Dakota). — Crow Indians. (See Crow.) 
 
 A-gim f (O-jib-wa). — Snow-shoe. 
 
 An-i-me' ki (O-jib-wa). — Thunder. 
 
 A-ras'irea (Chilian). — A rude mill propelled by mule- or water- 
 power, for grinding gold with boulders. 
 
 A-rick'a-ree' (Pani). A tribe of Indians found along the Missouri 
 River. The name is frequently abbreviated to Rick-a-ree, and 
 sometimes even Ree. (See those names.) 
 
 As-sin (Chippewa). — Stone. 
 
 A-was'sa-da f ki (Chippewa). — Far beyond the mountains. 
 
 Bad-lands. — Elevated, terribly eroded, and broken, sterile alkali 
 
 plains or terraces. 
 Ban-ach. — From the Indian name Ban-nack (Pa-nai-tse), a tribe of 
 
 Indians who formerly frequented the Yellowstone National Park, 
 
 from the west. 
 
 * This glossary is not published as a classical, but as a practical and 
 necessary accompaniment of this work of tales and legends, so largely 
 abounding in Indian or border words, names, and phrases, and is be- 
 lieved to be at least as full and accurate as any of the kind of which I 
 have a knowledge, or as is essential for a proper understanding of the 
 incidents related in the work. 
 
 223 
 
224 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Bed-rock. — A miner's phrase for the real facts of a case or foundation 
 of anything, from the gold being usually found upon the bed- 
 rock in placer-mining. 
 
 Big-Hole. — A very large, open, and elevated park or valley and pass 
 in the very crest of the Rocky Mountains, which nearly encircle 
 it, upon the head of the Big-Hole branch of the Jefferson Fork 
 of the Missouri River, near the Deer-Lodge, in Montana. 
 
 Big-horn. — The name of the larger variety of the wild mountain- 
 sheep. Thus called from the enormous symmetrical horns of the 
 adult males. The Big-horn Mountains, as well as the river of that 
 name, with its various Horn branches, derive their riames from 
 the immense number of these animals frequenting those regions. 
 
 Bi'son — The fleet and wary, dark, curly-haired buffalo of the moun- 
 tain parks. 
 
 Black-Feet. — An Indian nation embracing the Black-Feet, Blood, and 
 Pigan tribes ; formerly the most powerful, ferocious, and dreaded 
 nation infesting the head-waters of the Columbia, Missouri, and 
 Yellowstone Rivers. 
 
 Bloody-Knife. — A famous Ree or a Sioux Mandan warrior and guide 
 for the whites. He was killed with Charley Reynolds in Reno's 
 valley fight upon the day of the Custer massacre. 
 
 Bozeman. — A noted guide and rival of Bridger's as a mountaineer, 
 who was killed by the Indians upon the Yellowstone. (See 
 note 51.) 
 
 Brid'ger, James. — The most famous guide of the mountains and great 
 plains of the past generation, and from whom Bridger's Fort, 
 Pass, Lake, and several streams derive their names. 
 
 Brule. — A powerful and ferocious tribe of the Sioux or Dakota nation, 
 frequenting the Black Hills. 
 
 Buck' eye. — Originally the name of the American horse-chestnut 
 variety of timber, from the abundance of which, in Ohio, it 
 became the provincialism or sobriquet of the State and its in- 
 habitants. 
 
 Buffalo. — The gregarious shaggy bison of the great plains. For 
 convenience in versification these names are used interchangeably 
 in this work. 
 
 Bull-boat. — A circular, flat-bottomed boat used upon the sand-bar 
 rivers of the treeless great plains, usually made of one, but some- 
 times of two, green buffalo-bull hides. (See note 49.) 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 225 
 
 Butte (Pigeon-French). — A conical hill-remnant of erosion upon 
 the great plains and terraced bluffs of its rivers and foot-hills of 
 the mountains. When capped by a horizontal layer of harder 
 rock they are called table-buttes. 
 
 Cache (cash, French). — Hiding-place, — i.e., the peculiar excavations 
 in dry bluffs for the goods, trinkets, powder, and furs of the old 
 traders, and now a cant word for hiding anything. (See note 78.) 
 
 Cac'tus. — A variety of this well-known thorny plant, called the 
 prickly-pear, is the pest of the plains, as a pilgrim in attempting 
 to crawl for a shot at a buffalo or an antelope will soon learn 
 and long remember. 
 
 CaVu-met f (O-jib-way). — The sacred Indian pipe of peace. (See 
 note 1.) 
 
 Cal'u-met' Quarry. — Sacred quarry, in Pipestone County, Minne- 
 sota, near the border of Dakota. 
 
 Cam'ass (Nootka) of the Chi-nook jargon, named La'ka-mas 7 for 
 the edible-bulb-root of a plant growing in fertile meadows in 
 the Columbia River regions, and hence the numerous camass- 
 meadows and streams. 
 
 Ca-noe' . — Properly an O-jib-way Indian boat, made by hollowing out 
 a log, or by covering a light frame-work of cedar with birch- 
 bark, but now also applied to an imitation of the latter covered 
 with oiled canvas. 
 
 Canon (Spanish). — A deep, narrow, usually eroded, and often impas- 
 sable mountain water-way. 
 
 Cay-oti'ta (ky-o'ta, Spanish). — Properly the small and sneaking but 
 voracious prairie-wolf, but the name is frequently applied to any 
 variety of this animal. 
 
 Chet-woot' (Chi-nook jargon). — Bear. 
 
 Chi-nook f (Chi-nook jargon). — A general name for the Nez-Perce, 
 Flathead, Wal'ia-wal'la, U / ma-til / la, and other cluck and 
 whistling Indians of the Columbia, as well as their peculiar 
 jargon. 
 
 Chip / pe-way / (Indian tribe). — See O-jib-wa. 
 
 Copper race. — Red men, or the Indian aborigines of the most of 
 North America. 
 
 Counts, a coo. — A provincialism for the French word coup, for a 
 
 P 
 
22 6 GLOSSARY. 
 
 stroke, blow, or notch, and in border parlance literally signifies 
 adding a coup or coo-notch upon his tally-stick or gun-barrel list 
 of human scalps, each of which counts equally ; for the spouting 
 heart's-blood of an innocent maiden or helpless infant will 
 christen as many warriors as that of the bravest chieftain. The 
 number of those entitled to become warriors or add a coo there- 
 for being from three to five of the first who touch the corpse, in 
 addition to the one who secures the scalp, none of whom may 
 perchance be the actual slayer. 
 Crow. — An Indian nation consisting of the mountain and river tribes, 
 the crafty occupants of the Yellowstone and Big-horn regions. 
 (See Ab-sa-ra-ka.) 
 
 Da-ko'ta. — The Indian name for the Sioux confederation of tribes, 
 the most numerous and powerful of all of our aboriginal nations. 
 Their name in the sign-language is represented by drawing the 
 right hand from left to right across the throat ; literally, cut- 
 throat. (See Sioux.) 
 
 Dal'les. — A peculiar waterfall, combining the direct leap of the cata- 
 ract, the skipping of the saut, or leaping rapids, and notably a 
 broken line of falls sideways, often fronting each other, caused 
 by the dislodgment of basaltic columns or other jointed bed- 
 rocks, as at the dalles of the Columbia River. The name is not 
 found in dictionaries, and is of doubtful origin, perhaps from 
 the word dally, or delay in sport, which is very expressive of 
 their appearance. 
 
 Deer-bleat. — A.Chippewa Indian wooden tube, with a copper or 
 brass tongue, used for calling the doe to her fawn, by imitating 
 its cries when hidden, at the period when its tracks leave no 
 scent. 
 
 Dig'gers. — The most degraded aborigines of the Humboldt and other 
 alkaline deserts; so called from their habits of digging for the 
 roots of plants, as well as for snails and lizards, upon which, or 
 crickets and grasshoppers, they mainly subsist. 
 
 Dog-soldier. — The adult Indian males who have not counted a 
 "coup" at the scalp-dance to christen them as warriors. 
 
 Du-luth f . — A famous French missionary, one of the first to visit the 
 great lakes and Upper Mississippi River regions. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 227 
 
 E. 
 
 Earth- lodge. — The famous circular Mandan lodge or dwelling. (See 
 note 47.) 
 
 F. 
 
 Flat-head. — A tribe of Chinook Indians of the Bitter-root, Jacho, 
 and other valleys of the Upper Columbia River. The name is 
 derived from the ancient (now abandoned) custom of pressing 
 the heads of their infants from front to rear, in the clamp-like 
 head-gear of their hanging cradles, and is expressed in the sign- 
 language by patting the upper part of the forehead or even top 
 of the head, — i.e., Flat-head. 
 
 Fossil forests, or primeval forests fossilized; literally true. (See note 
 S3-) 
 
 G. 
 
 Geyser (Icelandic, geysa, to boil). — Spouting or spurting hot 
 springs of several varieties, all of which are found in surpassing 
 numbers, size, and beauty in the Wonder- Land, or Yellowstone 
 National Park. 
 
 Goat. — The white or long-haired, web-footed wild sheep of the snowy 
 mountain regions of Idaho and Montana Territories, and adjacent 
 portions of the British possessions. (See note 7.) 
 
 Goblin-Land. — See Hoo-doo ; also note 27. 
 
 Griz'-zly. — With the possible exception of the white polar bear, the 
 largest and most ferocious variety of the species. The name is 
 from the color and texture of the outer coating of their hair. 
 
 H. 
 
 Ha'lo. — Properly, a circle round the sun or moon ; but in this work, 
 as upon the border, the name signifies the areola around the 
 column of hot water from the spouting geyser, or the inimitably 
 beautiful oscillating rainbows in the mist-cloud above them, or 
 of cataracts. 
 
 lie' -kha-ka' (Da-ko-ta). — The an tiered or male elk. 
 
 Hoo f doo. — A mountain and region of rocky goblin-forms near the 
 Wonder-Land. (Sec note 30.) 
 
 f/ozv'-hozv'. — Jargon j corruption of the salutation " How are you?" 
 
228 GLOSSARY. 
 
 I. 
 
 Il'la-hi' (Chinook jargon). — Country (my). 
 
 L-san' (E-sdn, Santee). — Knife. 
 
 J-san (Tan'ka; E-sdn, Ton / ka). — Big-Knives; Americans. 
 
 Lsk'ko-te-wa'bo (Chippewa). — Whiskey. 
 
 K. 
 
 Ka' (Chippewa or O-jib-wa). — No. 
 
 Ka'kaw (Chinook jargon). — Crow or raven. 
 
 Kam'ook (Chinook jargon). — Dog. 
 
 Ke'new (O-jib-wa). — War-Eagle. 
 
 Ki'ji (ke'je, O-jib-wa). — Perfect. 
 
 Lti'ji-Man-i'tou (ke-je-Man-e-tou). — Perfect spirit; good God. 
 
 Kin'-ne-ko-nick f '. — A plant used as a substitute for tobacco. 
 
 Kitch-i-gam'i (O-jib-wa). — Great water; lake; Lake Superior. 
 
 Kitch'i-mo' 'ko-man' (O-jib-wa ) . — Big-Knife ; American. 
 
 Ko-kosh' (O-jib-wa). — Swine or their flesh; pork. 
 
 La' ka-mas' (Chinook jargon). — See Cam-ass. 
 
 Lake Pep' in. — A broad, placid expansion of the Mississippi River in 
 Southern Minnesota. 
 
 Lar'a-mie. — A fort upon the north fork of the Platte River, long a 
 famous outfitting point for gold-seeking pilgrims. Also the 
 name of a town, county, river, and a very extensive and beautiful 
 but elevated park called Plains, in Wyoming Territory. 
 
 Leaping Rock. — A famous tottering vertical fragment of the wall- 
 rock of the Calumet Cliffs. 
 
 Li' on. — The mountain-lion, so called. A very large and ferocious 
 variety of the panther, similar to the Mexican cougar, whose 
 midnight screams startle like the Indian war-whoop. 
 
 Little-horn. — Properly, a western branch of the Little Big-horn River, 
 but formerly applied to the entire branch, now called Custer 
 River, upon the coteau bluffs of which he met his fate. 
 
 Looking- Glass. — The ablest of the Nez-Perces chiefs, who aided 
 Chief Joseph throughout his matchless retreat, and fell in the 
 coula- trenches of his last battle at the Woody Mountain, near 
 the British line. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 229 
 
 Lo'lo-lo' (lueMa-loo, Chinook jargon). — Conqueror. 
 
 Long-Knife. — White man, so called by the Indians from the swords 
 of the military officers. 
 
 Loping-steeds. — Pintos, bronchos, cay-ouse, and mustang, half or 
 wholly wild horses of the West, the natural and habitual gait of 
 nearly all of which is a lope, or long, swinging, graceful canter, 
 seldom equalled by the larger but less sure-footed and hardy 
 blooded horses of the East. 
 
 Lovely River. — The Yellowstone, between its lake and Great Falls ; 
 a peculiarly appropriate name, 
 
 M. 
 
 MaiderCs Leap. — Rocky cliffs upon the eastern shore of Lake Pepin, 
 famous in Indian legends. (See note 15.) 
 
 Mak-wa' (Chippewa). — Bear. 
 
 Man-dan' . — A famous tribe of village Indians. (See note 47.) 
 
 Man'i-tou' . — Thus Anglicized from the O-jib-wa. M^an-i-to, mys- 
 tery, or mysterious spirit; God; and in these legends is by po- 
 etical license for symphony pronounced Man-ee / ta. 
 
 Man'o-nim' (O-jib-wa or Chippewa). — Wild rice. 
 
 Mar-quette' . — An early daring but devout missionary and explorer, 
 from whom several towns and streams of Michigan derive their 
 names. 
 
 Min'ne-ha'ha. — Laughing- Water. Name of a lovely waterfall 
 near St. Paul, and also of the heroine of Longfellow's " Hia- 
 watha," as well as of the Maiden's Leap at Lake Pepin, in the 
 legend of " The Calumet of the Coteau." (See note 15.) 
 
 Min'ne-ke'wa (Santee). — Water-god. 
 
 Min'ne-o'la. — Legendary lover of Minnehaha. 
 
 Min'ne-o'pa. — A famous legendary warrior of the Coteau Indians. 
 
 Min'ne-tan'ka. — Mighty river; the Mississippi. Also a lake in 
 Minnesota. 
 
 Min' ne-wa-kan (water-god). — Sometimes applied to a steamboat. 
 
 Min'ne-iva'wa (Longfellow). — Pleasant sounds, as of the summer 
 breeze and the leaves of the grove upon the parched plakis. 
 
 Min'ni (Da-ko-ta). — Water. 
 
 Mo' ka-man' (Chippewa). — Knife. 
 
 Mos'mos (Chinook jargon). — Buffalo. 
 
 Mount' ain-c at. — The lynx, or largest variety of the short-tailed wild- 
 
 20 
 
230 GLOSSARY. 
 
 cat, being nearly as large and more ferocious than the catamount 
 or panther. 
 
 Mountain- Gate. — The last caiion upon the Missouri, Yellowstone, 
 and other rivers, through which they emerge from the snowy 
 mountains to the relatively open valleys or plains. 
 
 Mus'tang. — The small loping horse of Texas and the great plains, 
 usually half and often fully wild. 
 
 Mys'tic Lake " of Wonder-Land," as distinct from a lovely mountain- 
 lake near Bozeman, Montana. 
 
 Mys'tic River. — The Yellowstone, the most of which, as well as its 
 lake, were long only vaguely known from legends of the Indians 
 or tales of the roving trappers of those regions. 
 
 N. 
 
 Nation, — A primitive people, consisting of more than one tribe, often 
 of several or many, usually, though not always, confederate. 
 
 Nez-Per f ce (French). — Pierced nose. A famous nation of Chinook 
 Indians. 
 
 Ni-ba f (Chippewa). — Water. 
 
 O. 
 
 Ob-sid' 'e-an Cliffs. — Cliffs of natural glass fronting Beaver Lake in 
 
 the Yellowstone National Park. 
 0-de-o f na (Chippewa). — Village. 
 Og f i-ma f (Chippewa). — Chief. 
 O-jib-wa. — A powerful tribe of Indians of the Upper Mississippi and 
 
 Upper Lake regions. (See Chippewa.) 
 Os / a-ga / (Chippewa). — Sauk Indian. 
 Os-su-a-ry. — Deposit of human bones. 
 
 P. 
 
 Pale-face. — White man. 
 
 Pam'pas. — A poetical license in applying the name to the prairies of 
 
 the North as well as South America. 
 Pap-poose f (O-jib-wa). — Indian child. 
 Park. — A relatively broad, elevated mountain-girt valley, one or 
 
 more of which are found upon all the streams of the Rocky 
 
 Mountain region. 
 
GLOSSARY, 
 
 231 
 
 Pem'i-can. — Deer-, elk-, or buffalo-meat dried, pounded, and mixed 
 with tallow, marrow, or bear's grease. 
 
 Pil'g7'ims. — A provincialism or border name for inexperienced miners, 
 and, in a broader sense, the travelling new-comers, especially 
 miners, of a western region. 
 
 Pin' to (Spanish).— Spotted. The famous spotted loping war-horse 
 of the Columbia River Indians. 
 
 Plains, G?-eat. — The elevated, treeless regions between the Rocky 
 Mountains and the prairies, from the latter of which they greatly 
 differ, notably in their short tufts of buffalo and other native 
 grasses, often commingled with the prickly-pear and the sage- 
 brush. 
 
 Pros-pect'er. — A roving exploring miner. 
 
 Q- 
 
 Que' ii-que' u (Chinook jargon). — Circle, circle. 
 
 R. 
 
 Ranch. — Border farn\ usually very extensive, and mainly for pas- 
 turage. 
 
 Ree. — Indian tribe. (See Rickaree.) 
 
 Red-Cloud. — A famous Sioux chieftain from whom the war at the 
 close of the Rebellion was called, as he was the acknowledged 
 leader of the hostile Indians. 
 
 Red men. — North American Indians. 
 
 Rick' a-ree' . — Indian tribe. (See Arickaree.} 
 
 Rov'er. — Trappers, traders, prospecters, and other wanderers of the 
 border. 
 
 S. 
 
 Sa'cred Quar'ry. — Calumet Quarry. (See note I.) 
 
 Sals' se. — Mud geysers. 
 
 Sa'pa (Da-ko-ta).— Black. 
 
 Sas' ka-shawn' . — Anglicized name for the River of the Rapids in 
 
 British America. 
 Scalp' -dance. — As the name signifies, a dance over the scalps of fallen 
 
 foes. 
 Sha (Da-ko-ta).— Red. 
 Ska (Da-ko-ta).— White. 
 Sheep. — Wild sheep of two varieties. (See note 7.) 
 
232 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Sheep-Eat'ers. — The poor, timid, and originally harmless aborigines 
 of the Wonder-Land, so called from their habit of obtaining 
 their main supplies of food and clothing by the slaughter of these 
 animals. 
 
 Shun'ka (Da-ko-ta)'. — Dog. 
 
 Shun' 'ka-wa' 'kan (San-tee). — Sacred dog; horse 
 
 Shmi'tan'ka (Da-ko-ta). — Big dog; horse. 
 
 Shun-tan-ka-ti-pi. — Horse-lodge; big-doghouse; barn. 
 
 Shun-to-ke-cha. — The other dog; wolf. 
 
 Si'oux' (Se / ou / , Da-ko-ta). — Nation of Indians. (See note 5.) 
 
 Si'wash (Chinook jargon). — Male Indian. 
 
 Skoo f kum (Chinook jargon). — Brave. 
 
 Sun'-dance. — The courage-testing dance and tortures of the male 
 Indian at the age of puberty. 
 
 Tan'ka (ton-ka, Da-ko-ta). — Large; great. 
 
 Tau-rine. — Chieftain; Sitting-Bull; an Un-ca-pap-pa Sioux chief- 
 tain, leader of the hostile savages at the Custer massacre. 
 
 Tee'pee. — From the Dakota ti-pi, or skin-lodge, as distinct from the 
 Chippewa mat or the Mandan earth-lodge. It is the to-tem 
 war-lodge of the Blackfeet Indians, but the name is often used 
 interchangeably with other skin-lodges. * 
 
 Terrace. — Remnants of eruption or erosion, and often of both, 
 rising in long, horizontal, stair-like lines from many of the 
 mountain-lakes and rivers. 
 
 Til / la-ctn?ze / (Chinook jargon). — Enemies. 
 
 Ti'ions. — Tee'tons. 
 
 To'tem. — Symbolic Indian name. 
 
 U. 
 Ute. — An Indian nation of several southern tribes. 
 
 W. 
 
 Wa'h (O-jib-wa). — An exclamation much as "there," "so be it." 
 Wa-ka?i / (wa-kon', Dakota). — Mysterious one. 
 IVa-kan'da (Kick-a-poo). — Mysterious being ; God. 
 Wa-kan' 'sich' ' cha. — Bad mysterious one ; devil, or whiskey. 
 
GLOSSARY. 233 
 
 Wa-kan' tan f ka. — Great Wakan; great mysterious one; God Al- 
 mighty. 
 
 Wam'pum. — Strings of shell-beads. 
 
 Wan (Dakota). — One, a or an. 
 
 Wa'pa-ha (Dakota).- — A hat or cap. 
 
 War-bon'net. — The famous ceremonial head-dress and streaming 
 pendant, ornamented with war-eagle quills. 
 
 War-dance. — A grand dance of Indian warriors in full paint and 
 feathers at the ceremonial unearthing of the hatchet and hurling 
 it at the totem of their foes, while preparing for an expedition 
 against them. 
 
 War-Ea'gle. — So called from the parti-colored quill-feathers which 
 are the favorite ornament of the war-bonnet and other head-gear 
 of an Indian warrior; and even a lone quill erect in the scalp- 
 lock is highly valued. 
 
 War-whoop. — The piercing scream of the Indian warriors in battle, 
 which is often modified to a prolonged vibrating howl, echoing 
 with awful intensity in the dark pine- and cedar-fringed gorges 
 of the mountains, and once heard can never be forgotten. 
 
 Was'-sa-mo'ww (Chippewa). — Lightning. 
 
 Wa-wa (Chinook jargon). — Call. 
 
 Woolly-sheep. — The white wild sheep or goat of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains. 
 
 Won-der-Land. — The Yellowstone National Park. 
 
 Wi-chen-yan-na (Dakota). — Girl. 
 
 Wick'e-up' (Sho-shone). — Brush-house. (See note 82.) 
 
 Win'-i-ban (O-j ib-wa) . — Gone. 
 
 Wi'ta-wa'ta (Da-ko-ta). — Ship or boat. 
 
 Wiz'ard (jargon). — An Indian medicine-man, sorcerer, or magician. 
 
 Yanc'tona or Yanc ; to-a. — Northern tribe of the Sioux nation of 
 Indians. 
 
 20* 
 
UTHO.CO.N.Y (OSBORNE'S PROCESS.) 
 
■UTHO.CO.N.Y. (OSBORNE'S PROCESS.) 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE YELLOWSTONE 
 NATIONAL PARK. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 At the suggestion of some prominent and practical friends who 
 nave visited the Yellowstone National Park, or who propose doing 
 so, I add a map thereof and brief description of its leading points 
 of attraction, together with illustrations of some of those referred to 
 in these legends, and a few practical suggestions regarding the season, 
 the route, and the cost of visiting them. The map is a duplicate of 
 that in my report of 1881, except the colors, and the size, which, in 
 reducing to accord with the pages of this work, is somewhat small for 
 clearness ; but map, directions, and suggestions are considered at least 
 as correct and practical as any yet published regarding the Wonder- 
 Land. 
 
 PRELUDE. 
 
 In all these blooming valleys, along each crystal stream, 
 And snow-encircled lakelet, where quivering halos gleam, 
 These labyrinths of goblins, and spouting geysers grand, 
 Unnumbered are the marvels throughout the Wonder-Land ; 
 As wintry storms build snow-fields, and summer breezes thaw, 
 All nature seems in contrast, in beauty, size, or awe, 
 Creation, growth, and ruin, the universal law ! 
 
 LOCATION OF THE PARK. 
 
 From this map, in connection with that of the Land Office of the 
 United States, it will be seen that the Snake River fork of the 
 
 235 
 
236 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 Columbia, and Green River fork of the Colorado of the Gulf of 
 California (Pacific waters), and nearly all the other great rivers of 
 that part of the continent, including the Jefferson, Madison, and Gal- 
 latin forks, and the Big-horn and other branches of the Missouri, 
 Mississippi (Atlantic waters), to a great extent radiate from spouting 
 geysers or other hot springs within or adjacent to the great National 
 Park, situated mainly in Wyoming Territory, and also embracing 
 portions of Idaho and Montana. 
 
 This wonderful region is really less one large park than a group 
 of smaller ones, partially or wholly isolated, upon both sides of the 
 continental divide, which is much lower in the Park than the nearly 
 unbroken surrounding mountain ranges. Its average altitude prob- 
 ably exceeds that of Yellowstone Lake, or nearly a half-mile higher 
 than Mount Washington. Its few yawning, ever difficult, often im- 
 passable canon approaches along foaming torrents, the superstitious 
 awe inspired by the hissing springs, sulphur-basins, and spouting 
 geysers, and the infrequent visits of the surrounding pagan Indians 
 have combined to singularly delay the exploration of this truly mystic 
 land. 
 
 Although Lewis and Clarke, by ascending the Jefferson instead of 
 the Madison or Gallatin fork of the Missouri in 1805, crossed the 
 Rocky Mountain divide west of the Park without its discovery, yet it 
 is from a member of that early band of northwestern explorers that 
 we derive our first knowledge of its existence. 
 
 Sergeant Coulter, after his honorable discharge from this expedi- 
 tion, and famous gantlet-running escape from the ferocious Blackfeet 
 Indians, accompanied the Sheep-Eaters amid the spouting geysers, 
 fire-hole basins, and other marvels of these regions, and ever after 
 his return to Missouri in 1810 gloried in describing them; yet so 
 little credence was given to his narrative that for many years, even 
 long after I was first upon the Lower Yellowstone, Coulter's Hell was 
 a standing camp-fire jest upon now well-known realities. But John 
 Coulter was, without a shade of doubt, the first white explorer of any 
 portion of the Yellowstone National Fark. 
 
 The want of space prevents the use of much material at hand re- 
 garding the wanderings of Henry, Sublett, Bonneville, Bridger, and 
 many other renowned trappers and Indian-fighters of those regions, 
 of the fruitless United States exploring expedition of Captain Rey- 
 nolds during 1859 and i860 in search of the Park, or of the camp-fire 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 237 
 
 legends of the gold-seeking pilgrims, some of whom, including Cap- 
 tain De Lacy, George Huston, G. H. Phelps, and Frederick Bottler, 
 unquestionably visited portions of the Park prior to 1870, though 
 none of them had then published narratives. 
 
 Having myself, long before the Reynolds expedition, failed, as he 
 did, to reach the Fark from the east, early in June, 1870, I again 
 sought, after many years' absence from those regions, to reach it by 
 ascending the Yellowstone above the Gate of the Mountains, accom- 
 panied by Frederick Bottler, from the Bottler ranch. Deep snows 
 baffled our resolute efforts to cross the Madison range to the geysers, 
 and, when seeking to descend to the Yellowstone Valley below the 
 Mammoth Hot Springs, Bottler was swept away in attempting to 
 cross a mountain torrent above Cinnabar Mountain, losing his rifle, 
 ammunition, most of his clothing, and nearly his life. This mis- 
 hap compelled our unwilling return from within the Park through 
 the then nearly unknown and impassable second canon of the Yel- 
 lowstone to Bottler's, the only white ranchman at that time upon any 
 portion of the mighty Yellowstone River. Thence I retraced my 
 route to Fort Ellis, published a brief account of my trip (see No. 3 
 of my " Journal of Rambles in the Far West"), and, under previous 
 engagements, descended the Columbia to the ocean, then proposing 
 to return to the exploration of the Park the next year. 
 
 During the following autumn the Washburn expedition was sud- 
 denly organized for Park exploration. It was composed of H. D. 
 Washburn, N. P. Langford, T. C. Everts, S. T. Hauser, C. Hedges, 
 W. Trumbull, B. Stickney, W. C. Gillett, and J. Smith. General 
 Washburn, in command, was then surveyor-general, T. C. Everts and 
 N. P. Langford, ex-officers, and all prominent and esteemed citizens 
 of Montana Territory. They were well equipped, and at Fort Ellis 
 were joined by Lieutenant G. C. Doane and seven men. From here 
 they followed my return route to and up the Yellowstone through its 
 second canon. They missed the Mammoth Plot Springs, bur visited 
 Mount Washburn, the Great Falls and Lake, returning by the Fire- 
 Hole River and Madison route to Virginia City. When among the 
 fingers of the Yellowstone Lake, Everts lost his way, horse, arms, 
 and provisions, and after thirty-seven days of exposure, starvation, 
 and suffering, doubtless unequalled by any other man now living, was 
 found by Baronet and Pritchette, barely alive, upon the mountain 
 which bears his name, near the Mammoth Hot Springs. This is the 
 
238 GUIDE-BOOK OF 1IJE PARK. 
 
 first party of really successful explorers of any considerable portion of 
 the Park of which we have any public record. 
 
 The interest elicited by the publications of several of these parties 
 led to Professor Hayden's geological explorations of 1871, and that 
 to Congressional dedication, March I, 1872, of the Yellowstone 
 National Park, under the control of the Secretary of the Interior. 
 
 This laudable outburst of national enthusiasm in behalf of a peer- 
 less health- and pleasure-resort for our people seems to have subsided 
 with its dedication ; and, without any practical provision for its pro- 
 tection, it was for years abandoned to destructive forest-fires, wanton 
 slaughter of its interesting and valuable animals, and constant and 
 nearly irreparable vandalism of many of its prominent wonders. So 
 uniform was the testimony of the civil and military officers of the 
 government, as well as of the American and European scientists, and 
 of myself and other tourists who visited the Park, and so strong their 
 appeals to the nation for its protection, or at least the sending of a 
 commissioner or an agent specially empowered to investigate and 
 report the facts, that among the early acts of the Hon. Carl Schurz, 
 Secretary of the Interior in 1877, was my appointment as superinten- 
 dent of the Park, specially instructed to again visit it and report the 
 facts as I should then find them, for the information of Congress ; but 
 as to funds for salary, or even expenses, none were furnished or 
 promised, but I was left to rely upon Congress to make provision * 
 for all salary and expenses prior to July 1, 1888, to properly pay for 
 the performance of duties pointed out and positively required of the 
 Secretary of the Interior in the act dedicating the Park. 
 
 Under these circumstances, and without pecuniary aid from any 
 department, association, or individual, I proceeded, via Bismarck, 
 Forts Buford and Keogh, the Custer battle-field, and Gate of the 
 Mountains upon the Yellowstone, to the Park. After visiting the 
 most important of its known wonders and exploring others, I started 
 to descend the Yellowstone, but, meeting General Sherman, returned 
 with him to Tower Falls. Here, by the breaking of a saddle-girth, 
 I was unhorsed, and too seriously injured to proceed with the general 
 or even to return home, except by descending the Yellowstone in a 
 skiff from above the Gate of the Mountains, which course I adopted. 
 
 * This, upon the recommendation of the Honorable Secretary of the Interior and 
 the endorsement of the President, unanimously passed both Houses since the 
 close of my official connection with the Park. 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 239 
 
 During my return home the hostile Nez-Perces made a raid in the 
 Park, which was so sudden and unexpected that General Sherman 
 and his slender escort narrowly escaped capture. Several^ tourists, 
 however, then in the Park, were killed, wounded, or captured. 
 Among these was Professor Dietrich, whose body was riddled with 
 bullets while he was standing in the door-way of the McCartney 
 cabin at the Mammoth Hot Springs. 
 
 The facts and suggestions in reference to the Park, as submitted by 
 myself to the Honorable Secretary of the Interior, were incorporated 
 in his report of 1877 (p ar t first, page 837), and also deemed by him 
 worthy of publication in pamphlet form. (See Report of the Super- 
 intendent of the Yellowstone National Park for 1877.) 
 
 After a long and careful investigation of the whole subject, and in 
 consideration of the written opinions of prominent scientists and ex- 
 plorers of our country, the cautious and prudent Congress of that 
 period, at its first session, with flattering unanimity made an appro- 
 priation of ten thousand dollars for the protection and improvement 
 of the Park, being the first ever furnished from any source, and with 
 a portion of which the first improvements ever made in the Park were 
 commenced at the Mammoth Hot Springs during the Bannock raid 
 of 1878, and have been continued as appropriations have since been 
 made. 
 
 AREA OF THE PARK. 
 
 Two matters in connection with the Yellowstone National Park 
 tend to great and general misapprehension regarding it. These are, 
 first, its name, and, second, its area, or, as perhaps best treated, in- 
 versely. 
 
 The United States maps and authorities show it to be an oblong 
 square, 62 miles in length from north to south, and 54 miles in width 
 from east to west, containing 3348 square miles. 
 
 The tenth census of the United States shows that the area of the 
 State of Delaware is i960 square miles; State of Rhode Island, 1085 
 square miles; District of Columbia, 60 square miles; and the aggre- 
 gate area of the counties of New York, Kings, and Richmond, of 
 the State of New York, is 150, equal to 3255 square miles. Thus 
 the most recent and reliable authorities extant show that this great 
 national land of wonders contains 93 square miles in excess of the 
 aggregate area of two of the original thirteen States of the Union, the 
 
240 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 District of Columbia, containing the capital, and the three counties 
 of the State of New York, which embraces the commercial emporium 
 of the first and third cities of the nation, having an aggregate popula- 
 tion of about two million five hundred thousand. Nor is this a full 
 statement of the case ; as, if to this account were added the actual 
 excess of surface measurements of this peculiarly broken region over 
 those relatively level eastern ones, it would certainly exceed that of 
 Connecticut, 4845 miles, and, with the adjacent Goblin-Land and 
 other regions which I have explored during the past two seasons, 
 fully equal that of New Jersey, Massachusetts, or several other of the 
 original States of the Union. 
 
 This necessarily lengthy explanation of the first question as to the 
 magnitude of the Park so nearly disposes of the second, as to the 
 name, that I only add that, although it is so vast and broken by 
 mountains and canons into countless partially or wholly isolated parks 
 and valleys, still the whole of it is nearly encircled by snowy moun- 
 tains with few passes, being thus park-like in character, and the name 
 correct, or at least difficult to substitute by one more appropriate. 
 
 The size and character of this work, together with the various 
 poems and copious notes descriptive of many of the features and 
 legends of the Wonder- and the Goblin-Lands, precludes extending 
 the foregoing outlines of the Park, and hence I close this necessary 
 prelude to our guide of routes with a few practical suggestions for 
 those desirous of a charming ramble amid the countless marvels of 
 this national heritage of wonders. 
 
 Neither the routes, modes of conveyance, nor hotel accommoda- 
 tions of the Park as yet equal those of our eastern homes, nor is it 
 necessary or even desirable for the health or enjoyment of tourists, 
 the most of whom in little groups of kindred or friends seek a sea- 
 son of variety and romantic privation in the snowy pass, the flowery 
 park, or secluded glen of nature's unpolluted solitudes as a refuge 
 from the duties of office, the dictates of fashion, or as a cheering, 
 healthful solace from ceaseless toil or corroding care. 
 
 OUTFIT. 
 
 From long and trying border experience I can vouch that stimu- 
 lants are not necessary but baneful, — buoyant hope and the azone of 
 pure mountain air are matchless tonics and appetizers ; but none who 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 241 
 
 outfit themselves may fear to provide bountifully of tea, coffee, nu- 
 tritious food, canned milk, and fruit, as well as warm, strong woollen 
 clothing, blankets, shawls, etc., and then double the outfit. Few will 
 regret relying upon this advice. 
 
 Heretofore it has been necessary to arrange before arrival for some 
 reliable guide with tents, wagons, saddle- and pack-animals, and 
 other outfit and provisions not brought by themselves. This, although 
 perhaps judicious for those who have time and opportunity, is now 
 less essential, as I learn that from Livingston, upon their main line, 
 just below the Gate of the Mountains, a branch road will be com- 
 pleted through it and amid the enchanting scenery of the parks and 
 canons of the Yellowstone, 50 miles to the mouth of the Gardiner, 4 
 miles below the Mammoth Hot Springs, and a hotel there, and else- 
 where in the Park, in time for this season's rush of tourists. 
 
 The following letter from the General Passenger and Ticket Agent 
 of the Northern Pacific Railroad Company gives all the facts that are 
 obtainable at this date : 
 
 " Northern Pacific Railroad Company. 
 " General Passenger and Ticket Department. 
 
 " St. Paul, Minn., April 12, 1883. 
 " P. W. Norris, Norris, Michigan. 
 
 " Dear Sir, — Replying to yours of April 10, it is impossible to 
 give the detailed information you desire regarding the accommoda- 
 tions in the Park at this early date. I can say approximately that the 
 rate from St. Paul to the Mammoth Hot Springs will be ninety dollars 
 for the round trip, and that the rates for transportation in the Park will 
 be about twelve cents per mile. Our branch will be built and open to 
 the Park about the 1st of July. A large force of men is now employed 
 on the line building it. 
 
 " One large hotel will be built at the Mammoth Hot Springs, and 
 smaller ones at Lower Geyser Basin, Upper Geyser, Great Falls, and 
 Lake Outlet. Ponies, attendants, bath-houses, and appurtenances of 
 like nature will be established in connection with the hotels and stage 
 line. 
 
 " Yours, etc., 
 
 "G. K. BARNES, 
 
 «G. P. &> T. A." 
 
242 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 PROPER SEASON OF THE YEAR FOR A TOUR OF 
 THE PARK. 
 
 The best of all months is August, then July, the first half of Sep- 
 tember, last half of June, the most of October and May, in the 
 order named. 
 
 The fogs, rains, and floods from melting snows in early June, and 
 the equinoctial snow-storm of September, are sure and fearful. July 
 and August uniformly fine, the remainder of the year changeable, 
 and successive seasons varying greatly. 
 
 No future danger from Indians or animals ; no rattlesnakes or 
 other venomous reptiles ; gadflies often troublesome upon animals in 
 June and July, but mosquitoes far less annoying than along the rivers 
 en rotite. 
 
 TIME NECESSARY FOR A TRIP OF THE PARK. 
 
 This depends much upon the health, means, taste, and leisure of 
 each person or party. A week of dash and jam in the Park will 
 allow a glance at the main geyser-basins, Mammoth Hot Springs, 
 Mount Washburn, Forks, Canon, Falls and Lake of the Yellowstone, 
 and other points of interest en rottte. Ten days are better, and 
 fifteen ample for a fair tour of all the Park now opened up to roads 
 and bridle-paths, while a mountain summer of three months can be 
 most pleasantly and healthfully spent in the viewing and exploration 
 of the Wonder- and Goblin-Lands for years to come, as between the 
 Yellowstone Lake and the Big-horn River is one of the wildest, 
 roughest, inaccessible, least known, and yet interesting regions of the 
 United States. 
 
 COST OF A TRIP TO AND THROUGHOUT THE PARK. 
 
 This also, after leaving the railroad, is subject to variations similar 
 to those of time, and dependent much upon them. 
 
 I have no information of essential change in the old rates of five 
 dollars each for a guide and packer with his saddle-horse, or ten dol- 
 lars for two men and their animals, and one dollar per day for each 
 additional saddle- or pack-animal. The additional outfit, board, etc., 
 if any, as the parties mutually agree, which, to avoid annoyance 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 243 
 
 during the trip and at its close, should be clearly understood in writing 
 before its commencement. 
 
 Should the mining developments of these mountain regions equal 
 present indications, a railroad will reach the Park from the East via 
 Clarke's Forks Mines or the Two-Ocean Pass, or both of them, as 
 well as the Virginia City branch of the Utah Northern from Dillon 
 within a few years hereafter, each road increasing accessibility and 
 inviting a healthy competition for the patronage of tourists in making 
 a cheap, rapid, and easy visit to the Wonder- Land ; planning it as 
 the turning-point, as well as the main region of attraction, in a sea- 
 son's ramble for health and enjoyment. 
 
 Should these anticipations be realized a visit to the Park will be- 
 come national in character and popular with our people, so that ere 
 long the flush of shame will tinge the cheeks of Americans who are 
 obliged to acknowledge that they loiter along the antiquated paths to 
 pigmy haunts of other lands before seeking health, pleasure, and the 
 soul-expanding delights of a season's ramble amid the peerless snow- 
 and cliff-encircled marvels of their own. 
 
 CHOICE OF LOOKOUTS. 
 
 Prominent among the bordering points of observation of this vast 
 region is Electric Peak, near the northwestern border, elevation 
 1 1,775 feet; Mount Norris in the northeast, 10,019; Mounts Chit- 
 tenden, Hoyt, Langford, Stephenson, and others in the eastern 
 Sierra Shoshone border, and Mounts Holmes and Bell's Peak upon 
 the western, ranging between 10,000 and 11,000 feet high, and 
 Mount Sheridan, near the southern border, 10,385 feet high, still 
 backed by the Grand Teton, landmark of all those mountain regions, 
 which is over 13,000 feet in height. But Mount Washburn, towering 
 upon the brink of the yawning Grand Canon water-way of the Yel- 
 lowstone Falls and Lake, 10,340 feet high, is the most central, ac- 
 cessible, and commanding for a general view of the Park and its 
 surroundings. From its isolated summit can be plainly seen on a 
 fair day, as upon an open map, not only this lake and canon but 
 many others also, countless flowery parks and valleys, misty sulphur 
 and steaming geyser-basins, dark pine and fir-clad slopes, broken 
 foot-hills, craggy cliffs, and snowy summits of the sundering and 
 surrounding mountains. No tourist should fail in securing this en- 
 
244 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 chanting view, the best plan of obtaining which is, upon reaching 
 the meandering rivulet-fed lawns of the Cascade, the Glade or the 
 Antelope Creeks, to go into camp and await the dawn of a cloudless 
 summer's morning. Then to the scientist, the artist, or the poet, and 
 to the weary and worn pilgrims of health and pleasure from our own 
 and other lands, ardent to secure the acme of mountain-climbing 
 enjoyment, or in viewing the lovely parks and yawning canons, the 
 crests of glistening ice and vales of blistering brimstone, the records 
 of fire and flood, the evidences of marvellous eruptions and erosions 
 of the present and the past, and day-dreams of the future in the 
 commingling purgatory and paradise of the peerless Wonder-Land 
 of earth, I would say leisurely ascend the terraced slopes of Mount 
 Washburn, and from its oval summit, with throbbing heart but fear- 
 less eye and soul expanding, look around you. One day thus spent 
 would more adequately impress the mind with the magnitude and 
 marvels of the Park, and the vast amount of exploration and research 
 necessary in finding routes, and the enormous amount of labor and 
 hardship unavoidable in the construction of buildings, roads, bridle- 
 paths, trails, and other improvements, even when unmolested by hos- 
 tile Indians, — as during the past two years only, — than a' perusal of 
 all the reports and maps of the Park which have ever been pub- 
 lished. 
 
 HEADQUARTERS OF THE PARK. 
 
 The loophole-turreted and triple-winged block-house Headquarters 
 of the Park crowns the summit of an oblong grassy butte or hill 150 
 feet above the cedar grove, a portion of which, as shown in the illus- 
 tration, is still standing, submerged and semi-fossilized by deposits 
 from the mineral waters of the main active Mammoth Hot Springs, 
 which rise in inimitably beautiful scollop-bordered pools and bril- 
 liantly-tinted pearly-white terraces directly fronting, and to an eleva- 
 tion greater than the balcony of the Headquarters. Thence through 
 the shifting clouds of vapor ever escaping from these unique fountains, 
 the active, the dying, the dead cedar-fringed and crumbling, then the 
 dark pine and balsam-hidden pools and terraces rise successively as 
 they recede to the most ancient and once powerful of the now ex- 
 tinct craters or cones upon the summit of the Terrace Mountain, 
 which much of the year presents an outline of snow amid the clouds. 
 Almost beneath this building, to the right, are seen the famous 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 245 
 
 Liberty-Cap crumbling cone of an extinct pulsating geyser, 45 feet 
 high, the Devil's Thumb, somewhat smaller, numerous ragged-edged 
 
 MAMMOTH HOT SrRINGS. 
 
 pits of ancient pools, nearly as deep, the sinks of two cold-water 
 creeks, the McCartney buildings upon, and the grassy slopes and 
 craggy summits of the Sepulchre Mountain above them. 
 
 To the left the clear-cut sky-line of the White Cliffs, and eroded 
 
 21* 
 
246 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 gorge of the West Gardiner just to the right, the pine-clad cone of 
 Bunsen's Peak to its left, the yawning canon and basaltic cliffs of the 
 Middle Gardiner, and still farther to the left the nearly vertical walls 
 and battlements above the double falls, and beyond them the silvery 
 thread of the Cascades of the East Gardiner, with the Mount Stephens 
 range in the background, are all in clear and undisturbed view. To 
 the rear the descent is continuous and often terraced or precipitous 
 for fully a mile to the Main Gardiner, and fine trout-fishing from the 
 shelly geyserite roof of a subterranean river, to where its seething 
 waters, in volume sufficient for a fine mill-stream, filled with the 
 floating vegetation peculiar to these hot mineral streams, runs for 
 some distance beside the cold snow-fed waters of the Gardiner before 
 commingling. This is at the base of the nearly vertical walls of Mount 
 Evarts, fully 2000 feet high, through a spur of which is a yawning 
 water-way to the foaming Yellowstone near the Bear Gulch drainage 
 of the gold and silver mines adjacent. (See notes 53 to 56.) 
 
 To this point ascends the road from the railroad below, and from 
 it radiate those up the East Gardiner towards the forks and falls of 
 the Yellowstone, that over the Terrace Pass to the Geyser or Fire- 
 Hole Basins and Vetlowstone Lake, and also a bridle-path between 
 BunserCs Peak and the Falls of the Middle Gardiner, via the Sheep- 
 Eater cliffs to its junction with the Geyser road near Swan Lake. 
 
 MIDDLE GARDINER BRIDLE-PATH. 
 
 This bridle-path route offers at least one day of ramble among points 
 of exceeding interest, and will be first described. 
 
 The route selected for a future road follows that now in use for 
 hauling timber to its end ; thence; via a cascade just below the im- 
 passable portion of the canon of the West Gardiner; thence, deflect- 
 ing to the left, ascends by a uniform grade along the timbered slopes 
 of Bunsen's Peak to the present bridle-path below the falls of the 
 Middle Gardiner. Along and between this route and the vertical 
 White Cliffs, among the immense masses of upturned angular rocks 
 there hurled from the cliffs, is one of the wildest thicket-hidden 
 haunts of grouse, rabbits, and hares, as well as of bear, wolf, and 
 wolverine, which I have ever visited, even afoot, in which way only 
 the most of it can be traversed. 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 247 
 
 The bridle-path, as now travelled, leaves this road near 
 the edge of the timber, and crossing the deep valley 
 of the West Gardiner, ascends steadily, sometimes 
 steeply, near 2000 feet to the summit of the terrace 
 between Bunsen's Peak and the yawning canon of 
 the Middle Gardiner, three miles from the Head- 
 quarters. 
 
 Near this point a trail blazed through the small pines 
 and aspens leads within half a mile to Butler's 
 Lookout, on the edge of a cliff rising fully 1000 feet 
 from the winding thread of silver, about half a mile 
 below the falls. This cliff, though at so great a dis- 
 tance and elevation from the falls, is the best point 
 from which to obtain a good view of the nearly 200- 
 feet leap, and also of the terrible canon and loom- 
 ing cliffs of basalt, portions of which are uniquely 
 radiate or fan-shaped. 
 
 Returning to the main bridle-path, and passing through 
 alternate glade and grove for a mile, we reach the 
 brink between the falls and the Sheep-Eater Cliffs, 
 which extend a distance of 2 miles, in one portion 
 of which they wall in a secluded lovely little haunt 
 of the Sheep-Eater Indians, and hence the name 
 and description at the time of its discovery. (See 
 pages 10 and 1 1 of my report of 1879.) . 
 
 The trail skirts these cliffs less than a mile, and then 
 through aspen groves and sedgy glades to its inter- 
 section of the Fire- Hole road south of Swan Lake, 
 from which point it is about 6 miles by each route 
 to the Headquarters ...... 
 
 Bunsen's Peak can be ascended mainly upon horse- 
 back from the terrace of great sage-brush from the 
 southwestern side. 
 
 In the dense thickets of small pines skirting the west- 
 ern foot of this peak are the decaying remains of an 
 ancient drive-way of the Sheep-Eaters, and the ruins 
 of one of their pole coverts for arrow-shooting is still 
 standing just back of the verge* of the cliff, a little 
 southeasterly from the Rustic Falls. These are 
 where the West Gardiner, after meandering through 
 a grassy plain nearly to its border, glides some 40 or 
 50 feet down a mossy rock, so smooth, so placid, 
 and so noiselessly as to present to one standing afoot 
 or upon horseback, as can easily and safely be done 
 upon its very margin of mist-nourished ferns and 
 flowers, a contrast unique and matchless to the suc- 
 ceeding 1500 feet of dashing, foaming descent adown 
 a ragged canon water-way in magnitude immensely 
 
 Mile 
 
 Miles. 
 
248 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 too large for that now flowing there, and impassable 
 for any but an experienced mountaineer afoot. 
 From these falls one may, by careful riding north- 
 erly within a mile, reach the summit of the Ter- 
 race Mountain, tread the terribly fractured verge 
 of the White Cliffs, view the ancient cones of ex- 
 tinct geysers, obtain enchanting view of our valley, 
 buildings, and the Mammoth Hot Springs at our 
 feet, the snowy crests of Electric, Holmes's, and 
 Bell's Peaks in the north and southwest, and also 
 on a fair day the icy peaks of the Three Tetons, 
 more than ioo miles away in the southern horizon. 
 We thence descend northwesterly above and then 
 through the Terrace Pass to the Headquarters. This 
 trip, although so interesting, is one of only 10 or 12 
 miles in distance, a very easy day's ride, and can be 
 made in much less. 
 
 ROAD TO THE GEYSER-BASINS. 
 
 From the guide-board, near the Devil's Thumb, ascend 
 the soft sinter terrace to the left, and by a winding 
 way and some steep grades pass above, and over- 
 looking the blue, active Hot Springs, and over or 
 among the crumbling or forest-overgrown ancient 
 cones and terraces to the summit of Terrace Pass . 
 
 Half a mile of slight descent, short turn to the left, 
 and then through an open lawn-like valley, good 
 water and camps to Swan Lake on the right . 
 
 Less than a mile back, a half-mile side trip to the left 
 and sharp notch at the head of canon, a good view 
 of the Rustic Falls, Sheep-Eater covert on the 
 cliff, and old camp of these Sheep-Eaters in the 
 valley. 
 
 Bridge over the Middle Gardiner .... 
 
 One mile above is the mouth of Indian Creek, which 
 the hostile Bannocks descended from the pass be- 
 tween Holmes's and Bell's Peaks, and at their camp 
 between the streams, just below, slaughtered a large 
 number of captured horses for food in 1878. 
 
 A fine ride of 5 miles and return will allow a good 
 view of Bell's Peak, fine valleys and streams, but 
 no fish. 
 
 Cross and then ascend Obsidian Creek to the bridge at 
 upper end of Willow Park, and first night's camp ; 
 water plentiful, but only passable ; wood and grass 
 abundant and excellent ...... 
 
 Opposite the lower end of some slide rock on the right 
 
 Miles. Miles. 
 
 V/2 
 
 VA 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 249 
 
 are two springs of ice-cold water, the last, except the 
 indifferent water of the Lake of the Woods, which 
 is palatable or safe to use for 5 miles 
 
 Bridge and long causeway to Obsidian Cliffs and 
 Beaver Lake ........ 
 
 The grade between them was made by hurling dry 
 pines from the cliff for eminence fires to fracture the 
 huge blocks of native glass, and then pounding them 
 down with sledges, in 1878. 
 
 The best of the red, yellow, or banded specimens of 
 obsidian are near the foot of the vertical cliff at the 
 south end of the grade. Beaver Lake was made by 
 these animals, whose dams and houses are still to 
 be seen at various places upon it. 
 
 The naked estuary- looking beach near the upper end 
 of this lake is caused by poisonous water from Green 
 Creek, which is to be seen at the right . 
 
 Long grade above a nauseous brimstone-basin on the 
 right, then a fine view of Mount Holmes and Bell's 
 Peak to the northwest from the drainage divide of the 
 Yellowstone and Madison fork of the Missouri, then 
 a slight descent to the Lake of the Woods, thus ap- 
 propriately named at the time of its discovery, when 
 I was searching for water which was not poisonous 
 for one of my men, severely injured by the fall of 
 his horse in a bear-fight ..... 
 
 Several nauseous fire-holes to an open valley; good 
 wood, water, and camps in the Norris Valley . 
 
 Bridge over Norris fork and nearest camp to the 
 Morris Geyser Basin ...... 
 
 Uniquely beautiful blue Emerald Pool just to the left 
 of the road on the second hill 
 
 The great cloud of steam to the left is from the New 
 Crater, the outburst of which I witnessed, as shown 
 in my report of 1878, which is now a powerful 
 geyser of erratic habits and irregular periods of erup- 
 tion of its column of waters, which is sometimes 
 100 feet high, but usually much- less. At the foot 
 of the hill beyond the Minute-Man, with regular 
 spurts of 20 or 30 feet, and 200 yards south, in the 
 foot of the hill, is the Monarch, which daily throws 
 one vertical and two diagonal columns of hot water 
 about 100 feet high, with rumblings which shake 
 the valley, until a creek of hot water for a time bars 
 all travel upon the road. 
 
 The Vixen, Constant, and many others are very interest- 
 ing, as also the finest plateau of boiling pools, and 
 unique porcelain-like rims to funnels to be found 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Miles. 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 17 
 
 20 
 
250 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 in the Park. The road could not be built through 
 the middle of this basin, much of which, towards 
 the northwest where I first discovered it in 1875, * s 
 still unexplored, and although one of the oldest, 
 largest, and probably once powerful in the Park, 
 for want of water or other cause has not now as 
 many powerful geysers as the Upper Geyser Basin. 
 
 Through the balance of this basin upon the road, and 
 a dense pine forest to a fine camp to the left of the 
 mouth of the bubble-covered Geyser Creek . 
 
 This is one of the most charmingly secluded parks 
 and camp of the mountains, and from the accessi- 
 bility of the cascades and red pulsating geysers in 
 the canon of the Norris Fork 1 ]/ z miles above, the nu- 
 merous lakes, the matchless Paint- Pots and geysers 
 to the south, and the Monument Geyser Basin upon 
 Mount Schurz to the west, must ever remain a favorite 
 camping-place, the only drawback being the water, 
 which, only palatable above, is utterly unfit for use 
 below the mouth of Geyser Creek. 
 
 The only good water attainable is in the Gibbon, 
 which is a cold, snow-fed stream from Mount 
 Holmes to its confluence with the Norris fork, one 
 mile above. 
 
 From this place we ran a wagon as far as possible with 
 animals, then with men, towards the famous Geyser 
 Cone, now in the National Museum in Washington, 
 which was nearly two miles, by a circuitous route, 
 to the foot of the bluffs beyond the Paint-Pots. 
 There it required a blacksmith frequently sharpen- 
 ing tools, a man to assist in drilling and chiselling, 
 and another to carry and throw cold water upon 
 them to prevent parboiling in the hot steam and 
 jets from its seventeen fine pulsating cones or orifices 
 for nearly a week, and then twenty men to carry it 
 amid the bottomless boiling chaldrons to the wagon, 
 and thence it was conveyed safely to Washington, 
 although weighing nearly half a ton. 
 
 A bridle-path extends from the end of this road 
 through the earthquake shakes and fallen timber — 
 1 1 miles in all — to Willow Creek Camp, upon the 
 East Fire-Hole River; but it is unsafe to attempt to 
 follow it without a guide. 
 
 In a horseshoe bend of the Gibbon, near the lower 
 end of this park, we fortified our camp, while I 
 explored the country, and we opened our road 
 through the canon of the Gibbon during the Ban- 
 nock raid of 1878. 
 
 Miles. I Miles. 
 
 24 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 2^1 
 
 Foot-bridge over the Gibbon at the head of the 
 canon ......... 
 
 Ascent of Mount Schnrz to the matchless cones and 
 charming view from the Monument Geyser Basin 
 and river, each 1-2. 
 
 Two crossings of the Gibbon in its Grand Cafion, amid 
 heavy boiling pools, and thence through open pine 
 groves upon the plateau between the ancient chan- 
 nel of the Gibbon on the left, and its modern canon 
 torn through the spur of a mountain to the right 
 to its 80-feet falls, many hundreds of feet below 
 the road ........ 
 
 Uniform descent to the old channel of the Gibbon at 
 Cafion Creek ....... 
 
 Good water and fuel, but the only camp for miles is 
 one-half mile up the creek before crossing, where 
 wood and water are fine and abundant, but grass 
 inferior in quality, ground boggy, and unsafe for 
 picket-pins. 
 
 Long grade, then open pine groves and burned tract 
 to the Earthquake Cliffs 
 
 The old road of 1878 passes below these cliffs to the 
 Madison Cafion route. 
 
 Dry, open route to the intersection with the old Madi- 
 son Canon road, and thence to Lookout Terrace, 
 where we get the first view of the steam-clouds 
 from the Excelsior and other geysers of the Fire- 
 Hole Valley, stretching away to the blue foot-hills 
 of the main Rocky Mountains just beyond the Up- 
 per Basin ........ 
 
 Easy descent and fine road beside the broad grassy 
 channel of the Madison ; always full and seldom 
 overflowed to its head at the confluence, or, as 
 called, Forks of the Fire-Hole River; and thence 
 to Prospect Point at the crossing of the East P^ork . 
 
 Near this point are now some rude government build- 
 ings, and from it roads diverge as follows : 
 
 DILLON, ON THE NORTHERN UTAH RAIL- 
 ROAD, VIA HENRY'S LAKE AND VIR- 
 GINIA CITY, OR REVERSING THE ROUTE. 
 
 I Miles. 
 
 Dillon to Virginia City, daily coach . 
 Henry's Lake, hired conveyance, good fishing a 
 camp ........ 
 
 Riverside, within the Park, good fishing and camp 
 
 nd 
 
 Miles. 
 
 25 
 
 29 
 
 29^ 
 
 34 
 
 37 
 
 60 
 
 22 
 
 65 
 
 125 
 147 
 
252 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 Lookout Cliffs and lovely view of mountains and val- 
 leys ......... 
 
 Marshall's Hotel, near the forks of the Fire-Holes . 
 
 Excellent fords of both forks to Prospect Point 
 
 The route of 60 or- 70 miles from Henry's Lake down 
 its fork to Camas, or to Beaver Canon, on the 
 Northern Utah Railroad, is an old and natural one, 
 but no inhabitants and little travelled. 
 
 OLD MADISON CANON ROAD. 
 
 Prospect Point to the mouth of the Gibbon, good camp 
 
 and fishing . . . . ■ . 
 
 Five fords of the Madison in its canon, good camp 
 
 and fishing . . . . . . 
 
 Down the river to Riverside, good camp and fishing 
 From this point there is a somewhat snorter, newer, 
 
 and rougher route down the Madison canons to 
 
 Virginia City. 
 
 QUEEN'S LAUNDRY ROAD. 
 
 This was opened and our camp made at the foot of the 
 Northern Cliffs to the Geyser Meadows, from which, 
 by a steep bridle-path, we reached our line of road, 
 while constructing it amid the old snow-fields on the 
 Madison Plateau to the Lookout Cliffs, late in July, 
 1880. 
 
 It was while thus engaged that, during a Sabbath's 
 rest and bathing recreation, some of the boys crossed 
 from our camp to the attractive bordered pools 
 below this great boiling fountain, and in one 
 cool enough for bathing discovered its matchless 
 cleansing properties, and from the long lines of 
 bright-colored clothing soon seen drying upon the 
 adjacent stumps and branches, while their owners 
 were gambolling like dolphins in the pools, the en- 
 vious cooks and other camp attaches dubbed it the 
 Laundry, with a variety of prefixes, of which that 
 which I deemed the most appropriate adheres, and 
 hence the name Queen's Laundry .... 
 
 Thus from Prospect Point it is a six-, and from Mar- 
 shall's Hotel four-mile trip, through lovely groves and 
 glades, and amid unique geyser and other hot-spring 
 cones to visit and, by a bath-house which I con- 
 structed in 1881, or hopefully a better one, test for 
 
 . themselves the velvety feel and cleansing properties 
 of these waters. 
 
 j Miles. I Miles. 
 
 159 
 
 1 6a 
 
 10 
 
 16 
 19 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 *53 
 
 A road from this spring through lovely parks and 
 groves via the accessible Twin Buttes, as near the 
 200-feet Fairy Falls as the bogs below it will allow, 
 and thence to the Midway Geyser Basin, so that 
 tourists might go one route and return the other in a 
 visit to the Upper Geyser Basin, is one of the routes 
 planned and blazed out, but not completed, before 
 my leaving the Park. 
 
 GEYSER VALLEY ROAD. 
 
 During the summer and early autumn this road is 
 usually, though portions of it not always, a good one. 
 
 It will be remembered that from the Headquarters to 
 Prospect Point is ...... 
 
 Thence to old Camp Reunion, near the butte to the 
 left, short ........ 
 
 It was here that a portion of the Hayden expedition 
 of 1878, under Gannitt and Holmes, and some of 
 Wilson's soon after, set afoot by the hostile Ban- 
 nocks near Henry's Lake, and my own party, after 
 many weeks of travelling from different directions, 
 first met white men, and rudely fortified a camp for 
 concentration while variously engaged in explora- 
 tion, geological research, and construction of- our 
 road up the main Fire- Hole River. 
 
 White sinter in the Lower Geyser Basin to a laminated 
 plateau on the left, where are several interesting 
 pools and geysers, the most regular and best known 
 of which is the Fountain . . . . ' 
 
 Plain of white sinter, or geyserite, a creek and several 
 rivulets of hot water, then to the right of the main 
 road is the rocky ford of the Fire-Hole River, just 
 below the Excelsior Geyser, where its deluge of 
 seething water, cloud of scalding steam, or shower of 
 hot rocks do not prevent its use .... 
 
 On page 58 of my report of 1881 is a sketch by Hay- 
 den, in 1 87 1, of this geyser before it was known to 
 be one, but frequently called " Hill's Half- Acre," 
 and on page 62 a sketch by myself in 188 1, after one 
 season's eruptions, and a reliable narrative of all 
 then known of it, from which I briefly quote in 
 substance that its first known eruption somewhat re- 
 tarded the return of our wagon in 1878, its constantly 
 increasing agitation and discharge of hot water 
 until its commencement of eruptions in February, 
 1 88 1, as a daily geyser, and after various spasmodic 
 changes " seems to be settling down to business as 
 
 Mile 
 
 Miles. 
 
 37 
 38 
 
 39 
 
 4i 
 
254 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 a regular two- or three-hour intermittent geyser, but 
 so immensely excelling any other ancient or modern 
 known to history that I find but one name fitting, 
 and hence christen it the Excelsior until scientists, 
 if able, shall invent one more appropriate." The 
 crater of this volcanic geyser has been immensely 
 increased, the timber along the river for some dis- 
 tance below it killed, the ford and the camp oppo- 
 site rendered unsafe, and the cloud-capped pillar of 
 vapor arising therefrom, even when not in eruption, 
 become so great and peculiar as to have been a clear- 
 cut and unmistakable landmark from nearly every 
 mountain-peak in all my explorations of the entire 
 Sierra Shoshone, and portions of the Yellowstone, 
 Madison, and Rocky Mountain Ranges during 1881. 
 There is a great scallop-bordered pool or lakelet of 
 deep-blue hot water on a self- formed plateau just 
 above, and others about the Excelsior, the steaming, 
 foaming hot-water outlets of which are bordered by 
 brightly tinted, pearly formations too delicately beau- 
 tiful for pencil to paint or pen portray. 
 
 The main road to the end of the river, and that across 
 the Geyser plateau, unite after the latter has, by a 
 rapid rocky ford, crossed the river and passed 
 through a group of interesting ancient pools and 
 spasmodic salses ....... 
 
 The road thence winds along the low foot-hills, sandy 
 terraces, and marshy meadows of the Fire-Hole River 
 to a rocky ford between the Fan and Riverside Gey- 
 sers, and thence, as shown upon the map of the Upper 
 Geyser Basin, to Old Faithful, the most reliable of 
 all known geysers, at the head of the basin, which 
 our wagon, the first that ever made a track up the 
 main Fire-Hole Valley, reached on the 29th day of 
 August, 1878 
 
 As this map shows the relative location and the tabic 
 of geysers, — the character of the eruptions of the 
 most prominent of them, — I will here only insert an 
 illustiation of the liee-Hive Geyser in eruption, 
 and quote pages 20 and 21 of my report of 1880 as 
 descriptive of the usual phenomena of geysers. 
 
 Miles. Miles. 
 
 42 
 
 47 
 
 SPOUTING OR INTERMITTENT GEYSERS. 
 
 Without attempting to decide a mooted question among savants as 
 to the true origin of these prominent wonders of the Park, I venture 
 to state that successive years of careful observation tend toward the 
 
I 
 
 256 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 theory that, like pulsating geysers, salses, fumeroles, and most of 
 the other kinds of hot springs, they are primarily escape-vents for the 
 earth's pent-up internal fires. In these vents the chemical action of 
 escaping gas and high-pressure steam produced by contact of this 
 escaping gas-heat with the permeating surface-water, by dissolving 
 the wall-rock increases the heat and enlarges the orifice of these 
 small, tortuous, and otherwise cooling fissure-vents. 
 
 Slow, but sure and constant, change attends them all, and many, 
 though probably not all of them, at the proper stage become true in- 
 termittent spouting geysers. This can occur only when the orifice is 
 so nicely adjusted in height, size, and form to the power of the es- 
 caping steam and gas in the self-formed chamber beneath, that the 
 pressure of accumulating water for a time nearly or quite prevents 
 its escape except through sympathetic fumeroles or natural safety- 
 valves. But the constantly-increasing force fiom beneath ultimately 
 overpowers the pressure of the water, when, after more or less sub- 
 terranean rumbling, earth trembling, and sundry kinds of bubbling, 
 gurgling, and spluttering, the aqueous monster seems fairly aroused, 
 and then occurs the grand eruption. This is usually through one, 
 but occasionally through several circular or oblong vents, cones, or 
 craters, with diverse kinds of throttlings and pulsations in the differ- 
 ent geysers, each having its own peculiarities in color and size and 
 in the shape of the orifices, as also in the height, power, and direc- 
 tion of the column or columns of water and the length of the periods 
 of eruption and of repose; and even these, as above stated, are 
 doubtless slowly changing. 
 
 While the foregoing theory seemingly accounts for the usual mani- 
 festations of geyser eruptions, still the rending of huge geyser cones 
 and the hurling of tons of rock, as have occurred at the Giant and 
 New Crater Geysers and elsewhere, seem to indicate an occasional 
 outburst of some greater power. Explosions of superheated steam 
 or of gas, misplacement of the safety-valve upon escape-vents of in- 
 ternal fires, infernal regions, or other places of pent-up power are 
 occasionally suggested by phenomena otherwise inexplicable. 
 
 To the Upper, Lower, and Midway Geyser Basins upon the Fire- 
 Hole Rivers, and others less important upon the shores of the Yel- 
 lowstone, Heart, and Shoshone Lakes, early discovered by others, 
 my own explorations have added the Monument, the Norris, and the 
 Taint- Pool Basins upon the Gibbon or its branches, the Safety- Valve 
 
<3^ 
 
 BEE-HIVE GEYSER. 
 
258 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 in the Grand Canon of the Yellowstone, and several others, less im- 
 portant, in other portions of the Park, which is now so well explored 
 that there seems little probability of additional basins of importance 
 being hereafter discovered. Still, as my own explorations have 
 mainly been made in connection with the ever-urgent duties of ex- 
 ploring or opening roads or trail routes, and the scientific explorers 
 of the Park have labored under many and grave disadvantages 
 during brief periods of summer only, amid hostile Indians, doubtless 
 interesting isolated geysers, or perhaps small groups of them, may yet 
 be discovered. In fact, so little, comparatively, is yet known of the 
 number, size, and peculiarities of the various geysers or other springs 
 of these regions that I deem it one of the most inviting fields for 
 further scientific investigation. 
 
 ERUPTIONS OF SPOUTING GEYSERS. 
 
 Although, as above shown, each class of geysers has its own 
 peculiarities and approximately regular periods of eruption, yet of 
 Old Faithful, which alone of all the large geysers has no fumerole, 
 escape-vents, or sympathetic geyser, and a few others with small 
 ones are they as yet known, and hence until a more careful and con- 
 tinuous observance of them I view any table of eruptions more as 
 an indication when to look for, rather than when to rely upon seeing 
 a full eruption, notably from those having long periods of repose, 
 sympathetic geysers, or even nature's safety-valves, — fumeroles. 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
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26o 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 i 
 
 Leaving the bridle-path to Shoshone and Yellowstone 
 Lakes for the present, we return to Prospect Point. . 
 
 ROAD TO THE YELLOWSTONE LAKE AND 
 FALLS. 
 
 This passes through the old war-path gap just south 
 of Prospect Point, in a mile pass where the tourist 
 Cowan and family were captured by the Nez-Perces 
 in 1877, then in the open valley of the East Fire- 
 Hole River, and over several good fords to Rocky 
 Fork, fringed by willows, but fine water, grass, fuel, 
 and camp, but no fish . . 
 
 Open valley past the dangerous trail to Gibbon Mead- 
 ows to our old camp to the left on Willow Creek . 
 
 A wild mountain route, which I often took up this 
 stream, and through a timbered pass alive with game 
 to the Fire-Hole on Alum Creek, beyond the moun- 
 tain, before grading the road up its face ; should not 
 be attempted by any but a good mountaineer or 
 accompanied by a reliable guide. Cross a marsh, 
 and then meander, steadily rising to the long but 
 excellent grade up the face of the mountain, and 
 thence along an ancient dry canon outlet of Mary's 
 Lake to its fine beach and clear but brackish waters. 
 No fish and poor camp ...... 
 
 In the open pines of the summit, just east of this lake, 
 is the remains of Chief Joseph's corral in 1877. 
 
 Down amidst the foaming springs, scratching fumeroles, 
 and scorching brimstone-pits of the Alum Creek 
 Fire-Hole Basin we descend to a sheltered grassy 
 camp on a small branch entering from the right. 
 Tepid water, but fine fuel, grass, and sheltered 
 camp ......... 
 
 The oft-repeated and published assertion that there 
 are no fish upon this route between the Mammoth Hot 
 Springs and the Yellowstone River is somewhat in- 
 correct, as they are sparsely found at some seasons 
 of the year in the lower Gibbon and head of the 
 Madison ; and in the branch above this camp and 
 others east of it there are abundance of game trout 
 just above where they join the sour hot waters of 
 Alum Creek, which would pucker a persimmon or 
 scald a Nevada lizard. I do not attempt to ac- 
 count for the presence of these trout here, or their 
 absence in waters apparently more favorable for 
 them to reach or inhabit, as I am not advancing 
 
 Mil 
 
 Miles. 
 
 57 
 
 62 
 64 
 
 68 
 
 71 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 261 
 
 theories, but recording facts for the guidance of 
 others. 
 
 From this camp the road cros-es enchanting pine- and 
 balsam-bordered parks, winds through a region of 
 eroded and still eroding buttes, and then makes 
 nearly a direct stretch over the treeless valley of 
 Sage Creek to the old trail near the Yellowstone 
 River ......... 
 
 Here the road forks, and taking that to the right, we 
 find a good road along the open terraces of the en- 
 chanting Yellowstone, descend a steep grade near 
 a rocky rapid, and among the numerous bubbling, 
 spluttering pools of the famous Mud Volcanoes to 
 the open valley near the corral of Chief Joseph. To 
 the left fine camp ....... 
 
 A little farther to the left, on the eastern margin of the 
 main Mud Volcano, is what vandals have spared of 
 the rudely-constructed defences of this chieftain's 
 headquarters while his people were crossing at the 
 best ford upon the entire Yellowstone River below 
 the lake. 
 
 This is at an island half a mile above, and should 
 not be attempted without a guide ; but trout, large, 
 handsome, and gamy, without number, and, from the 
 countless long white worms with which they are in- 
 fested, without value, unless to persons as hungry as 
 we have sometimes become, when they prove neither 
 unpalatable or unwholesome. 
 
 At some rude stone-heaps beyond and to the right is 
 the camp of General Miles after his Clark's fork 
 defeat of the Bannocks in 1878, and a winding road 
 through lovely groves and grassy lawns, and skirt- 
 ing the truly " Peerless Lovely River," we descend 
 a slope to a grove and matchless camp at the foot of 
 the mystic Yellowstone Lake ..... 
 
 From this camp or the long sand-spit below it I have 
 often crossed the river with a raft, swimming the 
 horses, to the trail to Concretion Cove, which starts 
 out from the beach nearly a half-mile up and 
 through the dense timber to the muddy fords of 
 the Pelican, is a difficult trail to follow. 
 
 As it may be desirable for many parties to divide at 
 the Upper Geyser Basin, and while one outfit pro- 
 ceeds with wagons along the road we have just 
 traversed to the end of it, at the lovely camp and 
 site for a hotel and steamboat-landing at Toppin's 
 Point, just above, the other, with saddle- and pack- 
 train, come by the mountain trail, which we now re- 
 
 Miles. Miles. 
 
 78 
 
 80 
 
 86 
 
262 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 turn to trace. It will be remembered that from the 
 Mammoth Hot Springs to the Upper Geyser is called 
 in miles ........ 
 
 This is much less than estimated by us when construct- 
 ing or by others in traversing it ; and although the 
 results are similar in the odometer measurements of 
 Captain Stanton and Lieutenant Steever, under the 
 orders of General Sheridan, in 187 1, throughout the 
 Park, still, as being the only semblance of measure- 
 ments ever made of our roads, I adopt them, not as 
 positively, but as approximately correct. 
 
 From Old Faithful we take the bridle-path through a 
 fine open pine forest across a rocky ford of the Fire- 
 Hole River, old Geyser Basin, along the steep cliffs 
 and some boggy rivulets upon it, to the magnificent 
 cascades which, from the intrepid twelve-year-old 
 son of Governor Hoyt, of Wyoming, who unflinch- 
 ingly shared in all the hardships, privations, and 
 dangers of the explorations of his father and the 
 lamented Colonel Mason in 1 881, in which they 
 passed them, I felt justified in calling Kepler's Cas- 
 cades. They possess wild romantic interest, well 
 worthy of a trip from the Upper Geyser Basin by 
 those who return from there ..... 
 
 Thence the trail winds through a rolling timbered 
 region and a valley skirting the nearly vertical walls 
 of the continental divide to a sharp turn to the right 
 and slight ascent in a narrow rocky canon and the 
 boggy, swamp-bordered summit pond or marsh, 
 within 2 miles, cuts directly through the Rocky 
 Mountains, and without warning reaches the brow 
 of the cliff overlooking the De Lacy fountain-head 
 of that branch of the Snake River fork of the Co- 
 lumbia River ........ 
 
 This is the low, direct, and short but muddy Norris 
 Pass, thus named by the famous scout and guide, 
 Yellowstone Kelly, upon its discovery by myself, 
 after fruitless search by himself and others for any 
 pass in that vicinity. The descent of 400 or 500 
 feet is steep, even for pack-animals, but neither 
 rocky nor boggy to the De Lacey camp, in one of 
 the most secluded and charming parks in the moun- 
 tains . . . . . 
 
 A lovely side ride 2 miles to the deep snow-fed waters 
 of the Shoshone Lake, with its beach glistening 
 with shiny particles of obsidian, but no fish, nor is 
 there any in Lewis Lake, 4 miles below ; while 
 Heart Lake, 7 miles beyond, and many other adja- 
 
 Miles. I Miles. 
 
 47 
 
 49 
 
 55 
 
 56 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 263 
 
 cent lakes and ponds, seemingly no different saving 
 boggier shores, are literally filled with them of dif- 
 ferent varieties. Many of the young pines among 
 those storm-strewn in this region are dotted or liter- 
 ally covered with unique bulgy knots, which when 
 cut and peeled in summer form fine walking-cane 
 souvenirs. The somewhat interesting geyser-basins 
 at the head of this lake are too remote and inacces- 
 sible to justify a visit by any but scientists. 
 
 By steep winding, but neither muddy nor precipitous 
 ascent through a pine forest again brings us to the 
 summit of the Rocky Mountains at Two-Ocean 
 Pond 
 
 From one or two rocky points above the timber a 
 charming view may be had of the Yellowstone Lake, 
 sleeping in matchless beauty at our feet, with the 
 evergreen-clad terraced sides and snowy summits 
 of the Sierra Shoshone Range towering amid the 
 clouds beyond. The descent is winding, steep, and 
 log-obstructed to the hot-spring camp at the western 
 end of the Great Thumb of Yellowstone Lake 
 
 For an explanation of the name of this and other por- 
 tions of this famous lake, as well as of its peculiar 
 contour, reference is made to note 32; and for a 
 brief statement as to the catching and broiling of the 
 large, wormy trout along this geyserite beach, see 
 note 36. 
 
 This hot- spring beach is the point from which to make 
 the side trip to Mount Sheridan and Heart Lake 
 upon the Pacific drainage, through dense and often 
 tangled or fallen pines and parks, but without a 
 vestige of a mountain on the continental divide, 
 which is here the levellest stretch of land in the 
 region, and one of the least elevated. 
 
 Distance to Mount Sheridan (unless that dashing officer 
 opened a route last summer) anywhere from 10 to 20 
 miles ; time, 2 days ; outfit, extraordinary, — a full 
 supply of tough clothing, and stanch fortitude to pre- 
 vent wear and tear of flesh, and also of conscience, 
 for imprecations at the pines, the packers, the saddle- 
 and pack-animals, and above all the person who ad- 
 vised making this side trip. A renewal of this outfit 
 will be necessary for those returning via the Upper 
 Yellowstone, Two-Ocean Pass, and Wind River 
 route, that of the Stinking-Water, or even the eastern 
 shore of the Yellowstone Lake to its foot. 
 
 From the fishing-camp our bridle-path or trail traverses 
 a fire-hole basin, crosses a high bluff, and reaches a 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Miles. 
 
 vA 
 
 59^ 
 
 62^ 
 
264 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK, 
 
 hot creek and poor camp in a forest too dense for 
 safety in picketing horses . 
 
 Rough route through annoying fallen timber 5 miles, 
 sharp turn to the left, and from a bold ridge the first 
 and best view of -the arch of the Natural Bridge is 
 had at a distance of fully a mile northwesterly, which 
 we reach by winding to the left over a warm-spring 
 creek and possible camp. 
 
 Though not one of the leading points of attraction, it 
 is the best near it, and a substantial, natural roadway 
 over a small stream, over which a great game-trail 
 passed, and I shot a fine grizzly in ambush among 
 the fallen timber at its western abutment at my first 
 visit, which was alone; but the accurate description 
 of the bridge to be found on pages 22 and 23 of un- 
 report of 1880 is too long for copying here ' . 
 
 Romantic ride through groves and parks to the foot of 
 the lake 
 
 Description of the trails beyond the lake and river will 
 be deferred. 
 
 ROAD TO THE YELLOWSTONE FALLS. 
 
 Retrace our route to the crossing of Sage Creek (at the 
 lake, 86) 
 
 Deep valley and rounded, grassy hills to the Sulphur 
 Mountain, which is uniquely interesting, but soon 
 seen, and from sulphur fumes and poison water a 
 poor camp ........ 
 
 Fine road over a treeless plain to Allen Creek . 
 
 The broad, bare estuary appearance of the borders of 
 this stream is due to the sour mineral properties of 
 its waters below, where they are hot, similar to which 
 is Sour Creek, which enters the Yellowstone nearly 
 opposite. 
 
 Crossing a treeless terrace, a long dugway in the side 
 of a mountain, and skirting the broad, placid waters 
 of the river to the cove near the rapids, one-fourth 
 of a mile above the Upper Falls .... 
 
 This is the present end of the road from this direction, 
 there being a gap of 16 miles by one bridle-path 
 and 18 by the other to Tower Falls, where the road 
 from the Mammoth Hot Springs now terminates. It 
 is at this camp that, breast-high upon a pine-tree 
 about 20 inches in diameter, are still legible upon 
 the bark, " J. O. R., Aug. 29, 1819," which is the 
 oldest record by white man of which I have any 
 knowledge in the Park. Upon the banks of the 
 
 Miles. 
 6^ 
 
 Miles. 
 69 
 
 75 
 80 
 
 1% 
 
 94 
 
 9S l A 
 97 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 265 
 
 creek, with a broad mouth, about a mile above this, 
 are the old brands of the slaughtered tourist's camp- 
 fire referred to in the poem " Lonely Glen" and 
 note thereto. 
 
 The broad, tranquil river here rapidly converges, as 
 its current increases, to the narrowest point upon 
 the river below the lake, which is scant 70 feet, 
 where the abutments of a bridge are commenced 
 over the foaming rapids at the head of the Upper 
 Falls. These, in a half-cascade leap of about the 
 same as the Falls of Niagara, reach the again broad 
 channel, so shallow and gliding that, at the proper 
 stage of water at least, Yellowstone Kelly and my- 
 self have forded it upon horseback just above the 
 mouth of the Cascade Creek. (See note 71.) 
 
 Within the distance of about one mile from the camp, 
 in the cove above the main rapids, we skirt them to 
 the Upper Falls upon the bridge, as illustrated, 
 across the Cascade Creek (see note 81) and falls, 
 and reach the camp at the head of the trail (not 
 bridle-path) to the Great Falls of the Yellowstone . 
 
 Descent to the head of the falls 500 feet, where on the 
 pole-railed shelf amid the mist the nearly 400 feet 
 of clear leap, the narrow thread of foaming water, 
 and the brightly-tinted walls of mighty eroded 
 canon are beside, beneath, or before you, and to 
 the right, opposite, and above, at my favorite camp, 
 when able to cross the river above to reach it, is far 
 the finest location for a future hotel to be found in 
 the vicinity. 
 
 From the camp above the Great Falls one bridle-path 
 follows the verge of the Grand Canon to the right, 
 another through the open sage-brush plateau to 
 some fine camps within a mile on Spring Creek and 
 to the left. 
 
 THE MOUNT WASHBURN BRIDLE-PATH. 
 
 Open, grassy ridge, and descent to a large and fine 
 camp on Cascade Creek above its canon. (See notes 
 68 and 69.) . 
 
 Open, occasionally boggy valley, then skirt Dun 
 Raven's Peak to the left, and the main peak of 
 Mount Washburn upon the right, to a grassy plateau, 
 from which an easy and safe ascent of less than one 
 mile brings us to the oval summit . 
 
 Long grassy slope to forks of the trails 
 
 Rolling open hills 1 mile, then continuous descent to 
 camp at Tower Creek above the falls 
 M 23 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Miles. 
 
 IOi 
 
 9 
 15 
 
266 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 GRAND CANON BRIDLE-PATH. 
 
 Skirting the brink of the Grand Cation from the camp 
 above the head of the Great Falls of the Yellow- 
 stone to Lookout Point ...... 
 
 This rudely railed rocky cliff directly fronting the 
 Great Falls, and iooo feet nearly vertically above the 
 foaming rapids in the Grand Canon below them r is 
 far the best point for an unobstructed view of them 
 all, than which few places earthly combine as much 
 of the unique, the beautiful, and the grand. 
 
 The two notches observable in the brink of the Great 
 Fall were first noticed in the spring of 1881, when 
 a heavy slide of rocks at the cleft of Spring Creek, 
 past the Red Pinnacles, where the famous artist 
 Bierstadt took one of his sketches of the Great Falls 
 the same season, also destroyed the route of descent 
 to the foot of the falls. (See note 70.) 
 
 Upon the opposite side of the Grand Canon, a mile or 
 so below Lookout Point, is the shelf of rock from 
 which the great artist Moran made one of the 
 sketches for his famous painting of the Falls of the 
 Yellowstone, now in the upper anteroom to the 
 Senate chamber in Washington. Below this point, 
 upon that side of the canon is the Sliding Cascade, 
 1400 feet high, nearly opposite to which the bridle- 
 path leaves the canon for the meadow camp, which 
 is good, but poor water ..... 
 
 PAINTED CLIFF BRIDLE-PATH. 
 
 From the lower end of the meadow to the right, I 
 mile through open pine forests, another steep descent 
 to the small but beautiful Safety-Valve Geyser, and 
 another constant descent through an ancient fire- 
 hole brings us to good trout and trout-fishing at the 
 uniquely beautiful Painted Cliffs, nearly 2000 ver- 
 tical feet below our meadow camp, and the only 
 place where a trail reaches the river between the 
 Great Falls of the Yellowstone and those of Tower 
 Creek. 
 
 Open, sometimes boggy, meadow, pine forest, Fire- 
 Hole Basin, with a black-mud geyser on the left, to 
 the charming secluded camp of Glade Creek . 
 
 Long and, in portions, rocky ascent to the summit of 
 Rowland's Pass of the upper spur of Mount Wash- 
 burn, for a description of which, and its discovery, 
 reference is made to the note to " In Cabin, Camp, 
 or Council." (See note 87.) .... 
 
 Mile 
 
 Miles. 
 
 IO5 
 
 I08 
 
 i \oy 2 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 267 
 
 From the brushy summit of this pass there is a fine 
 lookout a few rods to the right, and within half a 
 mile beyond another, commanding a fair view of the 
 yawning Grand Canon above and below, as well as 
 those of the Broad and Orange Creeks beyond it. 
 
 To the left the route (not well opened) of a good 
 bridle-path to the snowy summit of this spur of 
 Mount Washburn and a magnificent view of all the 
 surrounding regions, second only to that of the 
 highest peak, which can be reached during much of 
 the summer by a romantic ride or walk of less than 
 2 miles along the crest of this spur. 
 
 The descent from Rowland's Pass is continuous, but 
 not steep, along the grassy slope of another spur to 
 the clear icy waters, luxuriant grass, and abundant 
 fuel of the finest groups of charming sheltered 
 camps in the mountains, at the crossings of the snow- 
 fed rivulet-feeders of Antelope Creek, nearly west 
 from the ancient ruin of unknown builders men- 
 tioned in my reports, but now burned 
 
 Romantic undulating valley, brilliant with flowers, to 
 the forks of the bridle-paths ..... 
 
 TOWER CREEK AND FALLS. 
 
 Good camp on Antelope Creek to the right; best place 
 for a view of the wonderful Tower Falls a little down 
 the creek ; thence a steep descent to its confluence 
 with the Yellowstone, beneath vertical walls many 
 hundreds of feet in height, ornamented and capped 
 by the long horizontal lines of remarkably beautiful 
 basaltic columns. 
 
 The old Indian ford of the Yellowstone, just above, is 
 dangerous, but the nauseous gas from the adjacent 
 springs is not, nor does it affect the waters of these 
 streams, in each of which, near their confluence, are 
 trout and trout-fishing unsurpassed in the mountains. 
 A steep, continuous ascent of 500 feet from the 
 bridge above the falls brings us to the summit of 
 the cliff and wagon-road from the Mammoth Hot 
 Springs. 
 
 From this peculiar point of attraction the road passes 
 through open groves of huge fir-trees, resembling 
 eastern hemlocks, some steep descents and canons 
 to Hot-Spring Creek, and camp just above the 
 famous Baronet's Bridge at the forks of the Yellow- 
 stone ......... 
 
 Less than 2 miles nearly west from this camp is a 
 
 Miles. Miles, 
 
 113 
 Il6 
 
 Il8 
 
 121 
 
268 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 i 
 
 small lake, and along the steep cliffs to the right, as 
 well as on the slope of a side branch below it to the 
 north, are the stumps, from 2 to 15 or 20 feet high, of 
 fossilized ancient trees still erect, and many fallen, and 
 a fine place to secure beautiful fragments, as well as 
 chalcedony, agate, amethyst, and other formations 
 found in them or strewn along the cliff or creek. 
 
 Hot- Spring Creek, past forks of Miners' trail, to fine 
 camp in Pleasant Valley ..... 
 
 Much steep grade, but several good camps, to the 
 summit of the Devil's Cut, or Dry Canon 
 
 Upon the bald patches of the eroding basaltic terraces 
 to the left of this canon are countless unique geodes 
 filled with various beautifully-tinted crystals and 
 concretions; grassy slopes and terraces to the dark 
 cliffs of the modern lava-beds to the left, and a 
 yawning canon to the right; fair camp . 
 
 Grassy pass and plains to bridge over Black-tail Deer 
 Creek 
 
 Grassy valley and terraces to the Upper Falls of the 
 East Gardiner River, 40 feet high . . . 
 
 Beneath the dark foliage of the trees at the eastern end 
 of the rustic bridge at the brink of these falls may 
 still be seen some of the boughs of my rude couch, 
 made as related in note 75. 
 
 From this place the ascent is easy from across the 
 bridge to a wild region along the towering cliffs of 
 the Gardiners, and to the right those of Mount Ev- 
 arts. From the brink of the cliffs north of these 
 falls, and nearly in the spray of another, where one 
 can pass between the sheet of water and wall-rock, 
 there is a charming view of the long grade of our 
 road adown the canon of the East Gardiner, our 
 headquarter buildings, the mist-clouds and white 
 terraces of the Mammoth Hot Springs, clear-cut 
 upon the green slopes of the Sepulchre Mountain, 
 which we reach at . 
 
 MINERS' BRIDLE-PATH FROM THE FORKS 
 OF THE YELLOWSTONE TO THE SODA 
 BUTTE MEDICINAL SPRINGS. 
 
 Baronet's Bridge is upon the site of the first one ever 
 built upon any portion of the Yellowstone, and the 
 scene of many thrilling scenes, some of which are 
 referred to in the poem and attached note of " Oh, 
 is there in this World so drear?" 
 
 Open route and valley past a dark lava butte on the 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Miles. 
 
 123 
 
 125 
 
 I29 
 131 
 134 
 
 138 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 269 
 
 right, two lakes filled with water-fowl on the left to 
 Amethyst Creek . 
 
 From this creek there are several steep but not difficult 
 routes of ascent to the grassy dome south, which is 
 the front and lower one of the famous Specimen, or 
 Amethyst Mountain, from the fossilized trunks and 
 stumps of ancient forests upon which, the first, the 
 greatest number and among the finest specimens of 
 fossil wood, chalcedony, onyx, opal, and beautifully- 
 tinted agates, amethysts, and other crystals ever found 
 in any region have been obtained, and comparatively 
 few, obtainable without heavy work with pick and 
 fuse, remain. But those with curiosity, nerve, and 
 a good horse can follow near the verge of the cliffs 
 about a mile, and then descend, zigzagging their 
 horse as I have done, to our old camp in the aspens, 
 beneath in the valley to the left, or go the whole 2 
 miles along the cliffs, descending by the timbered 
 canon beyond. They will find descent a vertical 
 half-mile at either of these places is not boy's play. 
 
 The valley route is smooth and open, affording a fine 
 view at a half mile's distance of the countless fossils, 
 stumps, trunks supported by the vertical walls or 
 the prostrate logs of a succession of ancient forests, 
 the roots of one often over the tops of that beneath 
 to a vertical height of nearly a half-mile; to the east 
 fork of the Yellowstone . . 
 
 Here the bridle-path forks, and following that to the 
 left in the open valley and across the creek, we reach 
 the famous ancient geyser cone and present medici- 
 nal springs of Soda Butte. 
 
 This is the legendary spring of the surrounding Indian 
 nations for the cure of the saddle-galls of horse, or 
 arrow or other wounds of warriors, and besides 
 properties similar to those of the Arkansas Hot 
 Springs, will soon fatten man or animal using it. 
 To this add its location in a sheltered valley amid 
 and in plain view of the fossil forests and basaltic 
 snow-capped cliffs of the Specimen, Longfellow, 
 Norris, Grand Tower, and other surrounding moun- 
 tains, it cannot (properly managed) fail of soon be- 
 coming one of the foremost summer resorts of the 
 continent. 
 
 CLARK'S FORK MINERS' TRAIL. 
 
 From the Soda Butte this bridle-path passes the famous 
 Trout Lake . . . . . . . 
 
 23* 
 
 Miles. 
 
 I 
 
 Miles. 
 IO 
 
 12 
 
 15 
 
 17 
 
270 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK, 
 
 Round Prairie 
 
 Line of Montana 
 
 Cook City, in the centre of a wonderful group of gold 
 and silver lodes, not developed, but of great prom- 
 ise ......... 
 
 Thence there is a bridle-path, via the base of the In- 
 dex Peak and Heart Mountain, to the Stinking- Water 
 Valleys, one fork of it to the Big-horn Valley and 
 Fort Custer, and the left-hand one, near Clark's 
 Fork Canon, to the plains, and thence to Coulson, 
 upon the Northern Pacific Railroad, whence I learn 
 there is a purpose of running a line of travel, but I 
 doubt it being properly opened this season, and will 
 ever be a wild, elevated, romantic route for trail, 
 road, or railroad. 
 
 GOBLIN-LAND BRIDLE-PATH. 
 
 Half a mile southeasterly from the crossing of the 
 east fork, on the Miners' route, is the Gamekeeper's 
 Cabin, built by Harry Yount, the famous scout and 
 guide of Wyoming, while my assistant, as game- 
 keeper of the Park, and where he spent the winter 
 of 1880 and 1881. 
 
 From this cabin the bridle-path traverses the open, 
 grassy slope of Mount Norris to the ford of Cache 
 Creek, — thus named by a party of forty odd gold- 
 seeking pilgrims who were there set afoot by the 
 Indians, and cacheing, — i.e., burying what they could 
 subsequently find and not carry off, — by the aid of a 
 pair of donkeys who would not go with the Indians, 
 made their return afoot in 1864 .... 
 
 Through groves and glades up the east side of the 
 east fork to Calfee's Creek ..... 
 
 East Fork Valley, and over a steep bluff to the left, on 
 to Miller's Creek . . . . . 
 
 North or left-hand bluffs of Miller's Creek to its 
 forks ......... 
 
 Zigzag ascent of 1500 feet, and then through open 
 parks and dense thickets among the snow-fields to 
 our old camp near the group of deserted Indian 
 teepees and lodges at the foot of Parker's Peak 
 
 Down a yawning canon to the Goblins on the left 
 
 Ascent of the Hood's Mountain to our monument of 
 1880 
 
 From the illustration (see page 43) of a portion of 
 these Goblins, those in my report of 1880, and de- 
 scription of this region when first explored in 18S0 
 
 Miles. 
 
 3 
 4 
 
 Miles. 
 20 
 
 24 
 
 27 
 
 3 
 
 7 
 
 9 
 
 17 
 
 22 
 24 
 
 25 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 271 
 
 and 1 88 1 (see note 8j), some conception can be 
 formed of them ; but only actual view can ever fully 
 impress the mind with the weird, unearthly char- 
 acter of the dykes, canons, and goblins of one of 
 the wildest regions which I have ever seen in all 
 my mountain wanderings, although the peaks and 
 canons are on a much grander scale along the Sierra 
 Shoshone Range to the south. 
 
 We were kept in our old camp amid the balsams during 
 the 4th and 5th days of September, 188 1, by a 
 howling storm, which broke away, so that C. M. 
 Stephens and myself waded through deep snow to 
 the summit of the Goblin Mountain, and spent the 
 entire day of the 6th shivering beside our instru- 
 ments in fogs from melting snow in the canons, 
 through shifting rifts, in which we got what bear- 
 ings were possible under the circumstances. 
 
 Renewal of the storm in all its fury drove us to the 
 Soda Butte Valley (below it) on the 7th without 
 making our proposed exploration of less than 20 
 miles through a terribly broken region to the Fort 
 Custer trail, whence, from near Crandle Creek, I 
 think a route may be found to the Goblin Mountain. 
 Two miles above our trail, on Cache Creek, are 
 some interesting hot medicinal springs, and countless 
 fine trout in the waters still discolored by them. 
 
 FOSSIL FOREST BRIDLE-PATH. 
 
 From Gamekeeper's Cabin to the foot of Amethyst 
 Mountain, nearly opposite a fire-hole in the foot of 
 Mount Norris ....... 
 
 Summit of Amethyst Mountain .... 
 
 Orange Creek and camp ...... 
 
 Sulphur Hills 
 
 Forks of Pelican Creek ...... 
 
 Indian Pond and Concretion Cove, on Yellowstone 
 Lake (camp.) ....... 
 
 Lower ford of Pelican Creek ..... 
 
 Yellowstone Lake, half a mile above the foot . 
 
 These distances — estimates only — and the route from 
 fallen timber difficult without a guide. 
 
 NEZ-PERCE BRIDLE-PATH. 
 
 Indian Pond to Pelican Creek Valley 
 
 Upper ford of Pelican Creek ..... 
 
 Nez Perce ford of the Yellowstone .... 
 
 Miles. ! Miles. 
 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 11 
 
 4 
 
 15 
 
 8 
 
 23 
 
 5 
 
 28 
 
 3 
 
 3i 
 
 3 
 
 34 
 
272 
 
 GUIDE-BCOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 Good route with a good guide, and difficult in many 
 places without one. 
 
 CONCRETION COVE AND INDIAN POND. 
 
 One of the loveliest camps in the Rocky Mountains, 
 and where the unique concretions figured and de- 
 scribed in my reports, and referred to in my poem 
 and notes of the " Mystic Lake of Wonder-Land," 
 are plentifully found. 
 
 There are no really good fords, and few of any kind 
 on the lower Pelican, but these birds and other 
 water-fowl, as well as wormy trout, are plentiful be- 
 yond conception. 
 
 PASSAMARIA, OR STINKING- WATER 
 BRIDLE-PATH. 
 
 Concretion Cove to Turbid Lake . 
 
 Jones's Pass of the Sierra Shoshone Range 
 Confluence of the Passamaria and Stinking- Water 
 A rough route, elevated pass, and thence a fearful 
 cafion above the forks of the Stinking- Water. 
 
 I Miles. 
 
 Miles. 
 
 7 
 12 
 
 3 
 10 
 
 22 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 273 
 
 RECAPITULATION OF DISTANCES, ROADS, BRIDLE- 
 PATHS, AND TRAILS WITHIN THE PARK. 
 
 ROADS. 
 
 Road to the Geyser-Basins. 
 
 Mammoth Hot Springs to Terrace Pass 
 
 Swan Lake Camp 
 
 Middle Gardiner Camp 
 
 Willow Park, good camp 
 
 Cold Springs 
 
 Obsidian Cliffs , 
 
 Green Creek, poison water ' . 
 
 Lake of the Woods 
 
 Norris Valley, good camps 
 
 Norris Fork, good camps 
 
 Norris Geyser Basin 
 
 Geyser Creek, good camp 
 
 Foot- Bridge to Monument Gfbysers 
 
 Falls of the Gibbon 
 
 Canon Creek, half-mile below camp 
 
 Earthquake Cliffs 
 
 Lookout Terrace 
 
 Prospect Point, near the forks of the Fire-Holes Camp . 
 
 Lower Geyser Basin 
 
 Excelsior Geyser, Midway Basin Camp 
 
 Old Faithful, Upper Geyser Basin Camp 
 
 Return to Prospect Point 
 
 Road to Henry ' s Lake, Virginia City, and Dillon, on the Utah 
 Northern Railroad. 
 
 Prospect Point to Marshall's Hotel 
 
 Lookout Cliffs 
 
 Riverside, camp and trout 
 
 Henry's Lake 
 
 Henry's Fork, route to the Utah Northern R. R. at Camas, 65 
 
 Virginia City 
 
 Dillon, coach daily to railroad 
 
 Old Madison Canon Road. 
 
 Forks of Roads 
 
 Mouth of Gibbon, camp and trout 
 
 Foot of Madison Canon, camp and trout 
 
 Riverside, camp and trout 
 
 Queen s Laundry Road. 
 
 To the Bath-Rooms 
 
 Return 
 
 Road to the Yellowstone Lake and Falls. 
 
 From Mammoth Hot Springs via the Upper Basin . 
 
 Rocky Fork Camp 
 
 Willow Camp 
 
 Mary's Lake, brackish water 
 
 Alum Creek Camp, and trout near 
 
 Sage Creek, forks of road, and wormy trout; no zvood . 
 
 Mud Geysers, good camp, wormy trout 
 
 S 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Miles. 
 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 2/2 
 
 1% 
 
 3% 
 
 11 
 
 X 
 
 12 
 
 1 
 
 !3 
 
 1 
 
 14 
 
 1 
 
 15 
 
 2 
 
 17 
 
 3 
 
 20 
 
 1 
 
 21 
 
 3 
 
 24 
 
 1 
 
 25 
 
 4 
 
 29 
 
 y 2 
 
 29 fc 
 
 *y 2 
 
 32 
 
 2 
 
 34 
 
 3 
 
 37 
 
 2 
 
 39 
 
 2 
 
 4i 
 
 6 
 
 47 
 
 10 
 
 57 
 
 8 
 
 4 
 
 9 
 J 3 
 
 22 
 
 35 
 
 60 
 65 
 
 95 
 160 
 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 6 
 3 
 
 9 
 15 
 18 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 6 
 
 5 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 57 
 
 62 
 64 
 
 68 
 
 3 
 7 
 2 
 
 7 1 
 
 78 
 80 
 
274 
 
 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 Foot of Yellowstone Lake 
 
 Return tc Sage Creek . . . 
 
 Sulphur Mountain 
 
 Mouth of Alum Creek Camp, wormy trout 
 Cove above the Upper Falls Camp, wormy trout 
 
 Bridie-Path to Tower Falls. 
 
 Crystal Falls, short half-mile 
 
 Great Falls, short half-mile 
 
 Lookout Point, camp half-mile north. 
 
 Meadow Camp, passable water 
 
 Painted Cliff Trail and return, 6 
 
 Glade Creek, fine camp 
 
 Rowland's Pass (ascend Mount Washburn 2 miles) .... 
 
 Antelope Creek, splendid camp 
 
 Forks of Bridie-Paths 
 
 Tower Creek, good camp, fine trout 
 
 Mammoth Hot Spring Road. 
 
 Hot Spring Creek, or Forks of the Yellowstone, good camp and 
 
 trout 
 
 Pleasant Valley, good camp 
 
 Dry Canon 
 
 Lava-Beds, several camps 
 
 Blacktail Deer Creek and camp 
 
 Upper Falls of the East Gardiner . . ^ 
 
 Cascades of the East Gardiner, half-mile above ... 
 Mammoth Hot Springs 
 
 Middle Gardiner Bridie-Path. 
 
 Mammoth Hot Springs to the Falls of the Middle Gardiner . 
 
 Sheep-Eater Cliffs 
 
 Road to the Geysers 
 
 Shoshone Lake Bridle-Path . 
 
 Kepler's Cascades 
 
 Norris Pass of the Rocky Mountains 
 
 De Lacy's Creek and Camp, Pacific waters 
 
 Two-Ocean Pond, summit of the Rocky Mountains 
 
 Thumb of the Yellowstone Lake, camp 
 
 Hot Spring Creek, poor camp 
 
 Natural Bridge, near camps . . . ... 
 
 Foot of Yellowstone Lake, camp 
 
 Mount Washburn Bridle-Path. 
 
 Great Falls of the Yellowstone to Cascade Creek Camp . 
 
 Spur of Mount Washburn, which ascend 1 mile .... 
 
 Forks of Bridie-Paths 
 
 Tower Falls Camp 
 
 Painted Cliff Br idle- Path. 
 
 Meadow Camp to head of Grand Canon 
 
 Safety-Valve Pulsating Geyser 
 
 Yellowstone River at Painted Cliffs 
 
 Miles. 'Miles. 
 
 6 
 
 86 
 
 8 
 
 94 
 
 tH 
 
 9554 
 
 * l A 
 
 97 
 
 3 
 
 100 
 
 % 
 
 10054 
 
 % 
 
 IOI 
 
 1 
 
 102 
 
 3 
 
 105 
 
 ^ 
 
 108 
 
 ?y 2 
 
 IIO>£ 
 
 2H 
 
 "3 
 
 ■? 
 
 116 
 
 2 
 
 118 
 
 121 
 
 123 
 125 
 129 
 131 
 134 
 
 138 
 
 I 
 
 9, 
 
 3V2 
 
 1254 
 
 3 
 6% 
 
 6 
 
 1554 
 
 22 
 
 28 
 
 5 
 
 33 
 
 9 
 13 
 15 
 
GUIDE-BOOK OF THE PARK. 
 
 2 75 
 
 Paint- Pots Bridle- Path. 
 
 Mouth of Geyser Creek to the Paint-Pots 
 
 Geyser Gorge 
 
 Earthquake Gorge 
 
 Rocky Fork Crossing 
 
 Mary's Lake Road, near Willow Creek 
 
 Miners* Bridie-Path. 
 
 Baronet's Bridge, at Forks of the Yellowstone River 
 
 Amethyst Creek, camp and trout 
 
 Crossing, East Fork of Yellowstone River, camp and trout 
 
 Soda Butte, Medicinal Springs, camp and trout .... 
 
 Trout Lake 
 
 Round Prairie 
 
 North line of Wyoming . 
 
 Clarke's Forks Pass Camp, near northeast corner of the Park 
 
 Hoodoo, or Goblin Mountain Bridle-Path. 
 
 Gamekeeper's Cabin, on the Soda Butte, to Hot Sulphur Springs . 
 
 Ford of Cache Creek 
 
 Alum Springs and return 
 
 Calfee Creek 
 
 Miller's Creek 
 
 Mountain Terrace 
 
 Old Camp 
 
 Goblin Labyrinths 
 
 Monument on Hoodoo or Goblin Mountain 
 
 Fossil Forest Bridle-Path. 
 
 Summit of Amethyst Mountain 
 
 Gamekeeper's Cabin to foot of mountain 
 
 Orange Creek 
 
 Sulphur Hills 
 
 Forks of Pelican Creek 
 
 Indian Pond at Concretion Cove of the Yellowstone Lake 
 
 Lower Ford of Pelican Creek 
 
 Foot of the Yellowstone Lake 
 
 Passamaria, or Stinking-Water Bridie-Path. 
 
 Concretion Cove to Turbid Lake 
 
 Jones's Pass of the Sierra Shoshone Range 
 
 Confluence of the Jones and Stinking-Water Fork of the Passamaria 
 River 
 
 Nez- Perce Bridie-Path. 
 
 Indian Pond to Pelican Valley 
 
 Ford of Pelican Creek 
 
 Mez-Perce Ford of the Yellowstone 
 
 Miles. Miles. 
 
 3 
 
 i5 
 
 2 
 
 n' 
 
 3 
 
 20 
 
 4 
 
 24 
 
 3 
 
 2 7 
 
 I 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 7 
 
 4 
 
 11 
 
 2 
 
 13 
 
 8 
 
 21 
 
 S 
 
 26 
 
 2 
 
 28 
 
 1 
 
 29 
 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 11 
 
 4 
 
 15 
 
 b 
 
 2^ 
 
 5 
 
 28 
 
 3 
 
 3 1 
 
 3 
 
 34 
 
 THE END. 
 
I 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 012 074 710 1 ^