The Idaho Republican., 1912-03-29
Clarence c. Dietrich

ping, and sticking and sliding, the
Yellowstone Rotary Special was grad
ually emerging from its snowy tun-
mel back towards Ashton and to civ
ilization.
fSome day." said the superinten-
dent, as he stopped to peer out Of
the side windows of the Two Spot"
Superintendent Armstrong; private
car, down into the yawning reaches
of Warm river canyon, at the same
time hitching at an unwilling suspen-
der and continuing to scrub a
smoky, sooty neck-"some day, he
repeated, "something'll hit us up
here, and it'll take a thousand men
a week to dig us out. Only three
days from Warm river to Yellow
stone this time-Pve known it to
take eight when the SHOWS drifted
and packed-and l tell you l am
glad we are going back. You don't
know you are on strain until it's
overland feel like something had
kinda let loose of me.
Thus admonished, | flattened my
nose on the window and the glori-
GUS sight that met my eyes was one
! shall never forget, 1t was snow
ing, persistently and patiently.
Gown the long white stretch, at the
bottom of the canyon, dashed Warm
river, eating it's way through the
snow banks, so far that it made me
dizzy to look, as l pictured in my
minds eye what would happen
sho Id that something" hit us.
Away up in the cloudy gridiron the
snow boys spilled the fleecy, inno-
cent looking flakes until the fall
ing snow melted into the gray sky,
and shut off the view of the heavi-
ly laden pines reaching up the noun
tain side one above the other.
1t was warm and cozy in the car.
Back in the other end Old John, the
darky chef, hummed a southern tune
as he shuffled about preparing the
morning meal. l was hungry and
happy and the scene outside looked
so peaceful and quiet that | dozed
and almost forgot the purpose of the
expedition, until the painful twinges
of frozen flesh, as my hands reached
my face, reminded me of it's hard
ships.
1t was to have been a party of six,
but death, sickness, and the call of
business had dwindled it to two, Dr.
Malotte of st. Anthony and myself.
We were to have taken the train at
st. Anthony, but missed connections,
and started out in binding, breath
taking snow storm at o'clock in the
evening, to drive to Ashton, 18 miles
away Four thirty the next morning
found us with six miles yet to cover,
and horses and men exhausted from
bucking the snow. 1t was simply i'm
possible to follow the trail under two
feet of snow drifted on to the regu-
lar fall of three and four feet. For
tunately we had found shelter in an
outlying ranch house, reached the up
going passenger the next evening at
a nearby station, arriving at Ashton
that night. The storm of the day
previous had filled the cuts and nec-
essitated the use of the rotary to get |
the down-going passenger out and
we had one more chance to reach the |
train. This was by getting up at 3 |
O'Clock in the morning and driving |
from Ashton to Warm river, where
the rotary special was laid up for
the night, over nine miles of six-foot
snow on trail that had not been
broken since the storm At 3 o'clock
the next morning the mercury was
trying to crawl out of the lower end
of the thermometer, but we wrapped
ourselves in some blankets on an
open bob sled, laid behind the grub
box, and stood" it until 7 o'clock
when we slipped over the hill into
Warm River station.
Never did anything or anybody
look quite so good as did that steam
ing, smoking little train, 400 feet be-
low us, and never did any one re-
ceive a warmer welcome than we,
when We finally stumbled, half froz-
en-, into the train caboose.
Comfortably reading novel in the
hospital car, though, only seemed
like dim and hazy unpleasant
dream in comparison to the pleasant