Wonders of the YellowstoneRichardson, James (Geologist)
History
Wonders of the Yellowstone
Richardson, James (Geologist)
Yellowstone National Park
Buoyed by the hope of finding food and counsel, and another night of
undisturbed repose in the sand, I resumed my journey along the shore,
and at noon found the camp last occupied by my friends on the lake.
I struck their trail in the sand some time before I came to it. A
thorough search for food in the ground and trees revealed nothing,
and no notice to apprise me of their movements could be seen. A
dinner-fork, which afterwards proved to be of infinite service in
digging roots, and a yeast-powder can, which would hold half a pint,
and which I converted into a drinking-cup and dinner-pot, were the only
evidences that the spot had ever been visited by civilized man. "Oh!"
thought I, "why did they forget to leave me food!" It never occurred to
me that they might have cached it, as I have since learned they did,
in several spots nearer the place of my separation from them. I left
the camp in deep dejection, with the purpose of following the trail of
the party to the Madison. Carefully inspecting the faint traces left of
their course of travel, I became satisfied that from some cause they
had made a retrograde movement from this camp, and departed from the
lake at a point farther down stream. Taking this as an indication that
there were obstructions above, I commenced retracing my steps along
the beach. An hour of sunshine in the afternoon enabled me to procure
fire, which, in the usual manner, I carried to my camping-place. There
I built a fire, and to protect myself from the wind, which was blowing
violently, lashing the lake into foam, I made a bower of pine boughs,
crept under it, and very soon fell asleep. How long I slept I know
not, but I was aroused by the snapping and cracking of the burning
foliage, to find my shelter and the adjacent forest in a broad sheet
of flame. My left hand was badly burned, and my hair singed closer
than a barber would have trimmed it, while making my escape from the
semicircle of burning trees. Among the disasters of this fire, there
was none I felt more seriously than the loss of my buckle-tongue knife,
my pin fish-hook, and tape fish-line.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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