Читать книгу With God in the Yellowstone - White Alma Bridwell - Страница 4

After crossing the Yellowstone boundary, about two miles west of Pahaska Tepee Lodge, I began to feel an atmosphere of freedom that I had not hitherto enjoyed on the trip. I felt that the Yellowstone National Park, with all of its wonders and many interests, belonged to me as much as to any other person on the earth; and from that moment it seemed that I was walking with God to the very gates of heaven and to the brink of hell. The freedom of animal life in the Park, brought to my mind vivid pictures of the Millennium, when, as Isaiah says, nothing shall hurt or destroy in all God's holy mountain. It should be a matter of great interest and satisfaction to Americans that our government has the custody of the Yellowstone—that man with selfish interests is prohibited from laying claim to anything within its boundaries, and is compelled to refrain from marring or defacing the formations around the geysers and other places, and from destroying animal life.

It is to be deplored that so few know how rich they are in the gifts that God and nature have bestowed upon us as a people, in this vast region of more than 3,000 square miles of so many miracles and wonders.

About eight miles from the border, we came to Sylvan Pass; then followed Snow Fall, Lake Eleanor, Sylvan Lodge, Sylvan Lake, and Wedded Trees, at the left. About eleven miles from Sylvan Pass, we came to Turbid Lake, Osprey Nest in a tree at the right, Fishing Bridge, Yellowstone River, and turned to the right to Grand Canyon.

Our first stop after leaving Pahaska Lodge was at Mud Volcano and Green Gable Spring, at the left. This was the first place where we had found any disturbance on the surface caused by the heated regions below. The angry crater of the volcano resembled, in some respects, the Mammoth Paint Pots in the Lower Geyser Basin, but unlike the latter, there was nothing beautiful about it,—it was simply a great mass of boiling mud, manifesting such intense heat as to spout up several feet, threatening to bespatter those who came too near. It was enclosed by a railing, around which was a board walk. Below the mud geyser was a boiling spring where the water, clear as crystal, poured out of the ground and was carried away.

I ventured to put my finger into the water and was nearly burned. This place was only a suggestion of what we were to see later in the Geyser Basins.

At our left, eight miles from Sylvan Pass, we had a splendid view of Yellowstone Lake in the distance. In the heart of the Park Plateau, averaging more than eight thousand feet elevation, surrounded by mountains, waterfalls, and cascades, is the lake, twenty miles in length, which, at its elevation, has but one rival, Lake Titicaca, in the Andes. As our party did not visit West Thumb, it was our privilege to see the lake only at a distance, where we could have but a slight idea of its beauty and immensity.

"David E. Folsom, of the Folsom and Cook Exploring Party, in 1869 says:

'As we were about departing on our homeward trip, we ascended the summit of a neighboring hill and took a final look at Yellowstone Lake. Nestled among the forest-crowned hills which bounded our vision, lay this inland sea, its crystal waves dancing and sparkling in the sunlight as if laughing with joy for their wild freedom. It is a scene of transcendent beauty, which has been viewed by but few white men, and we felt glad to have looked upon it before its primeval solitude should be broken by the crowds of pleasure-seekers, which at no distant day will throng its shores.'"

For the next few miles the scenery was most fascinating, but it was only a prelude to what awaited us in the first glimpse we were to get of the Grand Canyon.

We halted at Inspiration Point, where I followed others down the steps to a great ledge of rocks overhanging the chasm. The scene that greeted my vision was so overwhelming and unexpected that I became dizzy and had to make my way back to the car, supported by the railing.

This yawning gulf with its awful depths of nearly two thousand feet, through which the river, like a silver thread was wending its way, and the sublime coloring produced by nature, reflected from the mineral formations on the sides of the great canyon, was a sight too much for human frailty, and I had to be satisfied to take a glimpse and wait until I could recuperate from the shock before attempting another adventure.

Before leaving Inspiration Point, some one shouted, "See the eagle's nest!" and there, looking down into a tall pine tree at the right of the descent, was the nest; but I was more interested in the canyon, for I had never had the faintest conception of what it really is.

When I had recuperated somewhat from the bewilderment, I was inclined to charge those who had visited the Park before, among whom were my brother and his wife, with stupidity and a lack of appreciation for not having done more to tell of such grandeur. But afterwards I had to admit that the half cannot be told however much anyone might try. Unlike the Royal Gorge in Colorado, we were not at the bottom looking up, but at the top looking down into the silent and awful depths. It was as if the earth had rent asunder and we were standing on the brink looking over into the abyss.