The new dominion. [volume] (Morgantown, W. Va.) 1876-1904, 1891-09-05
THE YELLOWSTONE PARK.
A PITTSBURG NEWSPAPER MANS
OBSERVATIONS In WONDER.
LAND.
In the Mad Rush Of Money Making He
Falls Poor With Only His Little
Pen.


Livingstone" said the colored
porter, as he took our valise and
assisted US from the Pullman to the
platform. A number of tracks a
multitude of cars, some brick blocks,
many wooden buildings, the whole
shut in by broad sweep of noun
tain wall, whose gulches are fringed
with pines which, in the distance,
seem like lichen upon rock-such
is Livingstone. 1t is fourishing,
they say. Some of the town lots
selling at twice what they bought
last year. And who in all the West
is not interested in the price of town
lotsp 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 ofrevenue than that of
his little steel pen.
The soil of the Yellowstone Valley
is rich, but it needs water. The
question now is irrigation. Where
ever 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 mill
ing or manufacturing purposes it
would furnish fine water power
Winters here are long; summers are
short. Small fruits grow luxuri-
ously; larger fruits do not grow so
we'll Owing to the clear, dry at
mosphere intense cold may be borne
with no greater suffering than that
produced by the milder climate of
the East.
But our train is waiting, the Ma
tional Park is before US, we are
here to wonder not to speculate; so
we say goodby to Livingstone with
it's prospects. Fifty-one miles Of
railway brings the tourist to CHINA
bar. At Cinnabar carriages are in
waiting to transport 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 boot
in the rear for baggage, and how
much they slowed away your cores
pendent will never be able to tell
for he was busy at the time securin 9
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 watered
our horses twice. "a merciful man
is merciful to his beast" But all
the time we were rising. The clear
green waters of the Gardiner river
boiled and foamed at our side. The
canon with mighty walls narrowed
before us. What is that upon an in
accessible pinnacle of rock overhead
1t is a mother eagle perched above
her nest The brood rear their necks
and fiutter their wings. They are
secure, for no hunter dare modest
them in this protected spot.
At length turn in the road re
veals the fort, the officers new quar-
tiers, the little postoflice and the
mammoth Hot Springs Hotel. This
whole terrace upon which the build
ings stand is an ancient formation
of calcareous deposit. There are
several yawning craters near at hand
which tell the story of former activi
ty. After a hearty lunch at the hote
table, we set out at once to begin oul
explorations. And just here by way
of introduction l should like to place
the following series of explanations
and points-Oh! Oh! All! Wonder
full! Marvellous! I! y! 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
It's rim of stone, with fringing fes
toons and supporting columns. Some
of these basins are yellow, cream
salmon, brown. Some are pure
white. Of the latter the cleopatra
is the most beautiful 1t seems tt
be frozen cascade. Glistening in
the sun like the purest snow, it falls
in solid streams and ieicles with all
the grace and beauty Of Dame Ma
lures 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.
Soulstirred and alone clambered
upward. A deep black bank OF
clouds gathered over the mountains
There came flashes of lurid light
ming, accompanied by low, rumbline
peals of thunder. The pines and ce.
dars walled in the wind From the
sputtering pools rose sulphurous
odors. The air seemed heavy with
the horrors of invisible powers. A
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 satyr; chat yellow crust
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 the 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 geology? Professor
of the nineteenth century, leave me.
/ wish to lay my head on natures
bosom, as men used to do, and
dream. Good-by!
/