, 1924-06-18
Back railing Through
Yellowstone Natl Park
fBy Eleanor Kilbourn in Mountain
States Monitor)

in Yellowstone park, this party of
tourists of the days when there was
no "hotel way and camping way"
hut a combination. After the rolls
rough stage. drawn by a %quartette
of eyil-eyed cayuses to whom n
hesitated to trust life and limb,
pulled away from the hospitable
doors of the big hotel at Mammoth
hot springs the hotel service slump
ed Ii, up among the geysers and
hot springs int paint pots and roar
ing rivers and deep canyons and
towering peaks. they spent the night
In a log cabin, and in the morning
h rain battered down upon sleepy
heads, they simply hoped out of
the hunks filed with native grasses
and aromatic weeds in which a
small snake might well have found
n good hiding place, and got under
some spot more nearly covered by
the shakes.
Chief Northumberland himself. in
spite of his name. had nothing on
the guests of Raindrops Inn. except
his mean disposition.
There we're no Ostermoors in the
park in that year of grace, at least
not after you were hauled over Ter
race mountain. And such roofs as
there were resembled the one on
the little old log cabin in the lane
in that they "let in the sunshine
and the rain" Yellowstone park
was not a dude ranch, by any
means
At one wayside inn the board
partitions between the rooms reach
ed scarcely higher than a tall mans
head. and were badly Cracked at
that. having been put up when the
lumber was new and unseasoned.
The boards had shrunk worse than
a bingham dress in the first wash
Ing One night after the candles
which for obvious reasons were used
sparingly-had been blown out and
everyone had burrowed into the hay
and even the bears were quiet,
someone started an argument about
where their party would go next
day. 1t turned into an open forum
As one after another took IL up
from room to o The fellow
who finished the argument didn't
belong to the party. He doomed out
Are those insomniacs ever going to
shut up n let the rest of us get
n little sleep? Who cares a darn
where they go-they can go hop in
h lake. Let 'em fight it out in
The morning.
No e for a house telephone in
\ place like that.
You see, there was no travelling
de luxe in the park on that tour.
Buf no one wanted any de %luxeness.
They were out to rough it and the
rougher the better. Whatever dis
comforts there were-and the great
est of these were stretches of cor
duroy road and long-billed mosqui-
toes. were all but unnoticed among
h marvels of that weird land that
Jim Bridger many years before had
been unable to make his friends be
heve that he had seen because
There couldn't be no such place"
Their opinion no doubt was that Jim
lived so long alone in the mountains
that he got "locoed." But this par
sHi party hdd seen II All WITH
their very w eyes and their brains
were bewildered and their hearts
filled with the wonder of it.
On Sunday morning they jour
neyed back Town by the Yellow
stone river. the park a vivid picture
to hang on memory's wall so IONS
as life lasted. Emigrant peak is
one of the things that hasn't chang
ed since thai time. 1t lifted its
snow crown to a bright July sky.
The train from Gardiner pulled into
Livingston. grown since that time
from a little town to a busting
city There was a wait for the
east-bound Northern Pacific.
Under the deep spell of the park
and the great wide spaces of the
west. and feeling that they were
very near to the Creator out in that
new land of His, someone proposed
that the time be spent in worship
of Him whose ~stupendous works
were on every side. The motion
carried. 1t was spontaneous, sim
cere. altogether heartfelt service,
held in the waiting room of the
Livingston station. Little f~eathered
warblers outside caught the spirit
and Joined in the chorus of songs.
The worshippers remembered that
He had said, For where two or
three are gathered together in my
name. there am I in the midst of
them"
There wasn't much dancing on
Sundays in those days. The people
felt there were other days and nights
o that amusement. And theatre