The Republican journal., 1916-03-30

saw the so-called Chocolate Pots. y
which, while they are but two of the
many boiling springs in the river, seem
worth of MENTION They were choco-
late colored cones, about ten feet high.
one on each bank of the river, close to
the stream, with bubbling, boiling water
constantly pouring over their sides into
the cold water of the river below. The
road wound up over the steep grade un-
til we were far above the river, and
when we reached point whence we
could command fine view of the beau
tiful Gibbon Falls. we stopped for a
moment to rest the horses. At this
port we began to meet many stages on
the road, bringing, as "Bill'' informed
us, employees from Yellowstone En-
trance to their summers work at the
Norris and Canyon Hotels. He was very
anxious that we should sample the wa.
tiers of his favorite spring, and pulled
up his horses with flourish by the side
of the Iron Spring, with the announce
nent that there was "the best water in
the Park" | must confess that it pre-
sented an anything but inviting appear
ance, with its surrounding rocks, and it's
waste way colored a bright reddish
brown by the strong iron deposit OF the
water, but we were open to conviction.
One swallow was quite enough, however,
and we made wry faces over that, where
at Bill declared US unappreciative and
drank two glasses with great gusto.
1t was but short ride to the Gibbon
Lunch Station, and as the horses were
as eager as we for rest and refreshment.
they trotted down the grade briskly,
crossing the bridge to the spot on the
rivers edge, where the Wylie Camp
with its row of tents presented a well
come sight to hungry travellers.
After registering and removing some
of the dust of travel, we followed the
matron's directions and sought the rear
of the tents, looking for bear" Much
to our delight we found two at the gar
bage barrel, a big black fellow and a
small brown one, a last years cub. We
succeeded in ''snapping" the little one
but they were as yet rather wary of
tourists, it being early in the season,
and quickly made off up the hill through
the woods. A notice warning tourists
to keep within camp limits on account Of
the bears restrained US from following,
had we been so inclined.
The Lunch Station was near the road
coming into the Park from the Yellow
stone entrance, and soon several stages
rolled up, filled with tourists, who We're
to become our fellow travellers for the
next few days. They were jolly lot,
and it did not take long to make their
acquaintance, and form pleasant friend
ships Our hailing point being ''farthest
east" we were speedily dubbed "the
Yankees" while Mr.. W. G. Embry of
Dallas, became Texas for the rest of
the trip. A ''real" bride and groom
named Allison, also from Texas, two
young ladies employed in the Patent
Office at Washington, and known as
''the Virginians,' from their native
State, DIR. H. 7. Morris and his wife
from Greenup, Kentucky, Mr.. and Mrs.
Driscoll from Connecticut, an old gentle
man and his wife from Pennsylvania,
with their grown-up son and two daugh-
tiers, besides others from various States
of the Union, mostly Southern, made up
our somewhat cosmopolitan, but very
congenial, party
They were all as eager for lunch as
we, and when served it disappeared be-
fore our ravenous appetites like dew be-
fore the sun. The remembrance of a
most excellent gingerbread still fingers
in my memory, and even the tale that
was told of the little brown bear "Dreak-
ing and entering" the dining tent and
lunching off the tables did not in any de-
gree lessen our appetites.
After an hours rest for the horses.
the stages drove up again, and we were
soon off for our long afternoons ride to
the Upper Geyser Basin. For several
miles the road climbed steady up
grade, over sandy hills, through pine
clad slopes. Soon, however, we were
descending again to the banks of the
tlrehole River, along which we drove
for several miles, and found some of the
finest scenery of our trip. A splendid
elk, standing on the opposite shore drink
ing from the river, raised his antlered
head as we drove by, and gazed after us
with some curiosity, but no trace of
alarm The Cascades of the Firehole
are worthy of especial mention, and our
views of them have been universally ad-
mired-the wild waters foaming through
the rocky gorge making an unusually
beautiful subject for photograph.
AS we crossed the bridge over Nez
Perie Creek, we paused to read tablet
concentrating some of the early his
tory of the Park in Indian days. There
are miny of these tablets along the
road, and they relate tragic events of
forty and fifty years ago-tales of