The daily morning journal and courier., 1901-07-08
IN YELLOW STONE PARK.

Canyon-Watching the Night.
 This fine descriptive passage is taken from an article in the Brooklyn Eagle,
 written by Charles M. Skinner and de-
 scribing a visit to the Yellowstone
 Park:
 "Of Yellowstone lake, vast sheet of
 beryl, ringed about with white topped
 mountains, of it's beaches of agate and
 glass. of the Alpine Tetons, ghostly in | ice, thrilling in height, of the grassy.
 flower trewn parks of the bears and
 skunks, of the beautiful minerals to be gathered on the hillsides there is not
 room to speak, but whatever else one
 misses he should not allow himself to
 leave the park before he has seen the
 grand canyon of the Yellowstone. We | have no such depth and distance here as in the gorge of the Colorado, no such
 reach along the river, for the Colorado
 is walled for 200 miles and more; but
 we have 10 miles of the most vivid col
 or, the most startling architecture, the
 most fearsome declivity, and we have cataract which we miss in the Col orado gorge, for the plunge of the Yel- lowstone at the beginning of the canyon is twice the height of Niagara.
 When, having traversed the vale of mist above that leap, you suddenly reach the end of things, fear comes on you. Nobody speaks l was alone when I came to it, and for some mo- ments my impulse was to rush back to the camp for company. It was as II some new part of the universe had sud- denly unfolded itself; as if for the first time to man heretofore blind a sight of the stars had been given. As in all such places the dominant sense Is that of human powerlessness. At our feet rolls flood of green water, the green of beryl shading into emerald 1t reaches a straight shelf, rolls smoothly over, and, like a huge, inverted rocket smashes itself into million stars Of spray on the rocks more than 300 feet below. Yet that is only slight de- scent, for as we look outward a fear full gulf yawns before us, roaring with the echo of the fall, with spray clouds surging through 1t. This chasm is over a thousand feet in depth, it's slop- Ing walls are yellow and studded with crags that lift themselves in semblance of ruined castles, monuments and ca thedral towers. Eagles nest upon their tops. Matted woods line the edge of the canyon, and as the river unrolls it dwindles to q green ribbon, streaked with white and seeming to be slightly shaken. The color effect is overwhem- ing. Ochre is the prevailing tint, but the spires and turrets, which have re- sisted the avalanches, are red, gray, dull purple and brown of every shade,
 ,,l ctp n snow-white, scarlet sulphur yellow and crimson, and at one point l found a delicate rose. Along the rim of the water is a green of moss as rich as malachite, fed by the spray. The colors of October woods, of summer fielda,- of frozen streams, streak the sides or a chasm so profound that imagination does not realize it's depth even while you bend, shuddering, over the brink. It's sublimity does not come till after | hours of gazing. Yet we measure-on paper-the distance of the stars! Brooks that spray into the depths are lost in as fine as vapor as the Staup- bach, and as you walk along the rim you see on turning DECK ward the Great fall, focus on the view hung like a green curtain agalnss the l yellow precpice, the river streaming outward from a chaos of rock and | foam at it's foot, far mountains 1n the i and all about painless wilderness of wood.
 No spectacle in the world more puz- zles. fascinates and entices the De- holder. Its brightness stuns in sun light An evening shadow gather it's | mystery almost appals. More and more it's influence grows. The spectator tears himself from it by an effort, or he does not tear himself at all, but sinks on it's rim and let's the mighty picture work into his imagination and ingrain