Around the campfire they evolved a name-giving policy and enjoyed great sport incident to its first application. They adopted a self-sacrificing resolution. Natural features should not be given the names of the present personnel or their relatives and friends. Instead, all wonders must bear the most appropriate cognomens possible. This was a noble gesture, and while it was not strictly observed one wishes that their demonic impressions might have been less vivid. Here was the Devil’s Slide; there, Hellbroth Springs; yonder, Brimstone; now, Devil’s Hoof, Den, Kitchen, and Ink Well; again, Hells Half Acre and Hell Roaring Mountain. Surely their concepts of Christian theology rendered them acutely conscious of the attributes and environment of His Satanic Majesty. The first controversy arose over naming the falls. “What shall we name these sentinel-guarded falls?” “Minaret is the proper name,” said young Trumbull. “What’s a minaret?” queried Jake Smith. Trumbull gave a classical description of Moslem architecture and drew his analogy to this similitude. Sam Hauser objected on the ground that the name was not “fitten” in western America where there weren’t any mosques. Hence, he proposed the more expressive name “Tower.” The council deliberated, expanded, and talked big. Minaret was the most significant, had a deeper meaning, more symbolical. Therefore, General Washburn christened them “Minaret Falls.”[125] But Sam Hauser was a politician; he later became governor of Montana. During the night he confidentially circulated the rumor that Walter Trumbull had a girl friend by the name of Minnie Rhett. Trumbull denied the statement, said it was a canard, a roarback, a plain lie! However, the seed of doubt had been sown, and at breakfast Hauser’s point was won. The name was Tower Falls. Later it transpired that the future governor’s girl friend was a Miss Tower! Surely there was genuine political statesmanship in this party, and its genius was clearly manifest before the journey’s end.