Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-08-26
AT THE GATE OFTHE YELLOWSTONE

-"Livingstone, said the colored por-
ter, as he took our valise and assisted us
| from the Pullman to the platform, A num-
ber of tracks, multitude of cars, some
| brick blocks, many wooden buildings, the
| whole shut in by broad sweep of mount
| ain walls, whose gulches are fringed with
| pines which, in the distance, seem like
| lichenupon a rock-such is Livingstone. 1t
is flourishing, they say. Some of the town
! lots selling at twice what they brought last
year. And who in oil the West is not inter
ested in the price of town lots? Town lots
and gold mines, real estate, placer digging,
| quartz crushing-that is all the talk out
here. How poor, how infinitely poor, THE
! DISPATCH man feels with no other source of
revenue than that of his little steel pen.
| The soil of the Yellowstone Valley is
rich, but it needs water. The great question
| now is irrigation. Wherever the bitches are
| digged the grain grows. The Yellowstone at
| this point is swift, and by means Of jetties
| and dams may be easily turned from its
| channel. For milling or manufacturing pur-
| poses it would furnish fine water power.
| Winters here are long; summers are short.
Small fruits grow luxIriously; larger fruits
| do not grow so well. Owing TO the clear, dry
atmosphere intense cold may be borne with
nogreater suffering than that produced by
the milder climate of the East.
But our train is waiting, the National
Park is before us, we are here to wonder not
to speculate; SO we say goodby to Living
stone with its prospects. Fifty-one miles of
railway brings the tourist to Cinnabar. At
Cinnabar carriages are in waiting to trans
port him to the park. There was the rumble
of Wheels the crack of a whip, and six
horses came trotting up, drawing one of
those huge Western stages, with its four
seats upon the top-to say nothing of seats
within, and each seat made to accommodate
three travellers. There was a boot in the rear
for baggage, and how much they slowed
away your correspondent will never be able
to tell, for he was busy at the time securing
a precarious place on the roof, just back of
the driver. Seven miles in two hours-that
was about the time. We wound and toiled and
stopped and rested. We watercd our horses
twice. "a merciful man is merciful to his
beast" But all the time we were rising.
The clear green waters of fthe Gardiner river
boiled and foamed at our side. The canon
with mighty walls narrowed before us.
What is that upon an inaccessible pinnacle
of rock overheada 1t is a mother eagle
perched above her nest. The brood rear
their necks and f1utter their wings. They
are secure, for no hunter dare molest them
in this protected spot.
AT length turn in the road reveals
the fort the officers new quarters the little
postofice and the mammoth H OF Springs
Hotel. This whole terrace upon which the
buildings stand is an ancient formation of
calcareous deposit. There are several yawn-
ing craters near at hand which tell the story
of former activity. After hearty lunch at
the hotel table, we set out at once to begin
our explorations. And just here by way of
Introduction should like to place the fol-
of
Oh! On! All! Wonderful! Marvellous! d!
u ~ The truth is, it is difficult to describe
in adequate language these hot springs.
They rise terrace above terrace, basin
above basin. The water boils and
sputters Kisses and steams into
clear pools Of varied hues which
themselves overflow into the other pools.
Each overflow, leaving its mineral deposit
forms in subtle art its rim of stone, with
fringing festoons and supporting columns
Some of these basins are yellow, cream,
salmon, brown. Some are pure white. OF
the latter the cleopatra" is the most beau
tiful. 1t seems to be a frozen cascade.
Glistening in the sun like the purest snow
it falls in solid streams and icicles with all
the grace and beauty of Dame Natures
matchless hand. have seen glaciers of ice
in the gorges of the Alps, but here are
glaciers of stone in the canons of the
Rockies.
-Soul-stirred and alone, clambered up
ward. A deep black bank of clouds gath
cred over the mountains. There came
flashes of lurid lightning, accompanied by
low, rumbling peals of thunder. The pines
and cedars walled in the wind. From the
sputtefng pools rose sulphurous odors. The
air seemed heavy. with the horror of invisi-
BILE powers red fox, covering before the
storm, stole stealthily into his den. Oh, for
the old Greek poetic nature, and should
have seen Jove in the clouds, and
every spring would have had its
rude satyr; that yellow crest would
have been the golden hair of Venus
in the stream, those pink dyes would have
been the warm bare flesh of her maidens.
should have heard their ripping laughter,
dryads would have whispered from the
trees Have we lost anything in the prose
age in which we live? Who is this barbarian
that approaches to tell me how springs and
geysers are formed, and to talk learnedly of
chemistry and geology3 Professor of the
nineteenth century, leave me, 1 wish to
lay my head on natures BOSOM as men used
to do, and dream. Goodby!
PITTSBURGER