Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1905-08-22

| has large number of hot springs and
it was here that l saw the peculiar
Fish Pot Gone spring. 1t stands like a
cone shaped receptacle of boiling wa.
| ter only a step from the shore, yet
completely surrounded by the cold,
/ limpid waters of the lake. Nearby
| fisherman was batting his hook for
cast and I saw how it was actually
| possible to eaten a trout and cook il
in the boiling spring without changing
ones position. This seems hardly
credible and when I came away
rubbed my eyes and wondered how Ma.
ture happened to forget to put salt,
pepper sand lem ons for seasoning with.
in reach
A Cleveland Fish Story.
| Walking back to the lunch station
from the beach l caught sight of a
group of our party standing admiringly
around a fisherman who had long
string of trout just caught. They were
/ speckled beauties. came up just as
an old gentleman in the crowd began:
That reminds me of the Cleveland
| fish story" Tell IT, some one
shouted. We'll, you know Grover al.
ways carried the fish scales with him
SO he could weigh the fish as soon as
they were caught, so when his first
baby was born, no other scale being
handy, he offered his fish scale for
use On the momentous occasion. The
baby weighed forty pounds
Good story was the general shout.
Here is another group of paint pots
short distance from the lake, but we
hardly felt that they equalled those
near the Fountain hotel
| A small steamer, like our ferry boat,
plies the lake here and many preferred
the water trip to the drive around.
The captain, picturesque old fellow,
who was pilot, conductor, and general
man Of all work on the boat looked
like he might be interesting and so
asked, Ever run on the Mississippi,
captain?" NO, l am land lubber
captain" he admitted, used to be in
the tea business Before that fought,
bled, suffered and laid in the corner of
the fence for my country was one of
his quaint answers
After leaving The Thumb station we
drove for some distance along the west
bank of the lake, where the view was
| calm and beautiful Yellowstone lake
is one OF the largest bodies of water
in the world at so lofty an altitude.
Its shape is oddly irregular and has
been likened to hand with three fin
gers and a thumb 1t is surrounded
by lofty mountains and, looking across
the clear water to the high peaks
against the deep blue sky, it made
picture for an artists genius.
Watch the Bears.
The remainder of the road was
through rather monotonous wooded
country along Bridge bay to the yell
lowstone Lake hotel. This hotel is
splendidly situated. overlooking the
lake and backed by forest. Here l
saw the bears. In the rear of the ho-
tel, where the garbage is thrown the
bears come morning and evening to
feed and usually have an interested
audience. | watched an old cinnamon
bear, evidently king of the pack, and
three or four others, who had come
through the wood from different direc-
lions. The cinnamon had it all his
own way, the others standing off in
awe, or creeping up warily until the
old fellow would allow them to come,
They posed beautifully for a dozen
kodaks apparently unconcerned.
A Colonial Inn.
The hotel is beautiful and entirely
different from Old Faithful. 1t is co
lonial in style and furnishing, stately
and dignifed, with three high column
porches and continuous veranda
across the front. The scene across the
limpid waters of the lake is one Of
quiet peace and beauty. Inside tho
structure the long columned Office OF
reception room finished in California
redwood and handsome rugs and all
kinds OF easy chairs of mission pattern
make it a most pleasant loungins
place. This hotel is also modern. Here
in the evening we had an informal
dance, for the members of our caravan
had by this time found each other
quite congenial. l have met some
very interesting people, but more
of these later on. This is another inr
where the traveller longs to stay fol
several days. Our rooms were odd
and quaint, furnished entirely in colo
NAL style and charmingly restful.
To the Grand Canon.
Tuesday morning we left the Lake
hotel for the seventeen mile stage ride
to the canon. About half way we LEFT
the vehicle to climb a bluff to the mud
volcano, one of the most extraordinary
sights of this weird land. 1t is a cir
cular crater very deep. the bottom OF
which is filled with boiling mud which
bubbles constantly, interspersed with
loud eruptions. Heavy volumes Of
steam escape and the sounds of groans
that break forth suggest more than
anything else an entrance to Inferno.
/ We passed Trout creek and Alum
creek, the latter the only stream in
which there are no fish on account OF
| the alum in the water, and beyond sew
eral miles come to the head of the
rapids of the Yellowstone. Crossing
Cascade creek, charming stream, on
a steel arch bridge, we assembled
steep hill, getting a fine view of the
I Grand canon, to the Canon hotel, but
of the grandeur of the canon itself
shall reserve for another letter.
Bettye Adler. !.