i6
THE WEST SHORE.
M
ay, 1883.
of wme seventy feel, and with a depth of four or
five feet, through the pure, deep green of which
the hardly wavering outlinei of the brown boul
den beneath are distinctly visible, springi to the
crekt with an intemity of motion that makes its
clear depths fairly seem to quiver. Just before
making the plimg', the itream is again contracted,
and the water is thrown in from both sides toward
the center, so that two Ixild, rounded prominences
or but tresses, as it were, are formed where green
and while commingle. Lying prostrate and look
ing down into the depth, with the cold breath of
the canyon fanning the face, one can see that these
ribs continue downward, the whole mass of the
fall gradually breaking into spray against the air,
until lost in the vast cloud of vapor that hides its
lowest third, and out of which, 390 feet beneath,
comas up a mighty roar that shakes the hills and
communicates a strange vibration to the nerves,
From far bJow this cloud emerges a narrow,
green ribbon, winding and twisting, in which the
river is hardly recognizable, so dwarfed is it, and
creeping with so oily and sluggish a current, as
though its fall had stunned it. On either hand
the walls of the canyon curve back from the
plunging torrent, and rise, weltering with moisture,
to the level of the fall, again ascending 500 or 600
feel to the pine-fringed margin of the canyon ;
pinnacles and towers projecting far into the space
lelween, and seeming to overhang their bases.
These details are comparatively easy to give, but
how find words which shall suggeM the marvelous
picture as a whole ! The sun had come out, after
brief shower, and, shining nearly from the
meridian straight into the canyon, flooded it with
light, and illuminated it with a wealth and luxu
nance of color almost sii)ernatural. The walls
appeared to clow with a cold, inward radiance of
their own, and gave back tints of orange, pink,
yellow, red, while and brown, of a vividness and
malvrnes holiest to derail, and which
would overtax the powers of the greatest artist to
portray. The lower .lopes, wet with spray, were
decorated with the rich hue of vegetation, whili
through the midst, (he river, of a still more bril
1 ( nl hmaii fa 1 1 .. ... . . . , , . .
...... k.vm, ... kiiiw, punueu iis toriuoiis course.
ml the eye followed it down through this ocean
.l.i 1 1 n I 1 1 I u. ... . I . 1
... v...... uirrc iiiurs away, a curve
In the ranyon hid It from view, ami formed
own appropriate background."
I... I. I . L
ju.i uriuw me canyon we come to Tower creek
up which a short distance are the beautiful
Towr.a rALt.s.
l-es grand than the imoirig ones of the main
stream, yel they are a pleasant sight to behold, as
Ihe water shoots with the speed of an arrow over
the brink and falls in a solid mass 156 feet int.
m poi neiow. Si)P1 Lieutenant Doan 1 " Noih
Ing can l more chastely beautiful than this lovely
cascade, hidden away in the dim light of over
shadowing nicks and woods, its very voice hushed
io a low murmur, unheard at the distance of
lew hundred yards. Thouunds might rasa bv
- " "" " n no aream of its existence.
Crossing the Yellowstone i, ,u ,
..uKC, ur,. ,ne moutn 01 Tower creek, wevi.it
a region as yel but l,nle flequcnlfU bv ouri,
lying h(y miles to the southeast, and bearing the
WMIHIMlPi II1IC IN
HOOtXH) fcAMN,
Haiti, asx .- l . i !
HUC u, uoodo., mountain, ob.
rrw nr. at a distance, i. !,. .,
surrounded by hills, containing nxky pill4I
shafts and spires of the most fantastic shapes, and
resembling animals, men, churches, and a multi
tude of animate and inanimate objects, only
imited by the imagination of the beholder. The
storms of ages have worn among them deep, nar
row, tortuous channels, through which the visitor
wanders as in a bewildering labyrinth. It is a
wierd spot, and one never tires of threading these
rocky mazes and gazing upon Timessculpturings.
Retracing our steps to Baronet s bridge, we
again cross the Yellowstone, and four miles be
yond come to the
PETRIFIED FOREST,
hich consists of a cluster of petrified trees, still
standing as in life, and very curious to behold.
Ilcyond this we find the East Gardiner river falls,
two in number, and very beautiful. Three miles
farther we reach the Mammoth springs, our
starting point, and bid farewell to the "Enchanted
Land."
We now return to Livingston and resume our
journey eastward, passing down the beautiful
YELLOWSTONE VALLEY.
From the point where the river bursts through
the mountain barriers, it flows through a grad
ually widening valley, and between mountains
that sink by degrees into a broad expanse of roll
ing prairie, until it unites with the Missouri more
than 500 miles to the northeast. Soon alter
leaving Livingston the stream is crossed, and we
continue down the south bank through the little
valleys that lie along its many small tributaries.
Opposite to us is Shields river, along which is a
splendid farming country partially settled. This
region is naturally tributary to Livingston. Three
times more we cross the river, forced to do so by
the course of the stream in first hugging one side
01 the valley and then the other. Finally, after
running for many miles down the north bank, we
come to
HILLINGS,
a uisiance 01 115 miles Irom Livingston. This is
an enterprising town, less than two years old, and
namen in nonor of rtcderick F. Billintrs. late
president of the Northern Pacific. It nils fl nnn.
ulalion of about 1,200, and is the teat of justice
of the recently-created ennntv nf v.ii... t
- w. muivsiunc.
the vicinity ar m,nu ...i
...uuuuu acres 01 tine agri
cultural land, especially in Clarke', fork bottom
" ,unB me north hank of the river for thirtv,
five miles. The railroad lands in this fertile
region, amounting to nearly 60.000 k....
I - ' I'ttYt
purcnasen ry the M. 4 M. L. & I. Co.
proprietor 01 the town site. The company is
,mnense ditch for irrigating th
v v,,.i, wnicn wi 1 soon lv rr
More than 100,000 acre, will thus be ren!ercd
" the supply of water is abundant
-.... o, crop, will be almost unknown.
The even.numl,ed .ec.ion, are government land
7" la"en are open to setil,.
:; ,r:acres-inn.hi.year,
'i"us is expected. C
ui came irom the surround
here lor shipment, h
'reat numbers
mg ranges are broughl
IS exmrtrl Ik.t T)MI
"I be chosen by the railroad company a, ,
U.a non ,or Urge machine shops. Vurk Z
I "UIK will
"e commenced nn ... .
.. ..in, .hrough-thr,;;
win ue com deled th s sM.n vu
is madr t . i connection
LW u fem00 lhe ,rade "vel of
LpP Monun. wiU p,,, ,immK " of
--la tUIUg,
Soon after leaving Clarke's fork bottom th.
road again crosses the Yellowstone and runs for
miles through the
CROW RESERVATION,
which extends along the river for 200 miles.
housands of acres of valuable agricultural and
grazing land are within its limits, useless to the
Indians and witi.held from the whites. On the
opposite side of the river many settlements are be
ing made. It will be a matter of a few years
nly when this whole region will be thrown open
to the people. Thirty miles from Billings we
iss
POMPEY'S PILLAR,
column of yellow sandstone rising abruptly be
tween us and the river to the height of 400 feet,
its base covering nearly an acre of ground. About
half way up on the north side is the inscription,
' William Clarke, July 25, 1806," carved by the
associate of Captain Lewis on his return from the
first expedition across the continent. Thirty
miles further on we reach the mouth of
BIG HORN,
the stream made famous by the terrible massacre
of General Custer and his command by the Sioux
under Sitting Bull. Up the river a few miles is
Fort Custer, a military post on the reservation,
named in honor of the falLn hero. Below the
mouth of Big Horn, which is its largest tributary,
the Yellowstone is navigable by steamers of 300
tons. At this point, also, the valley become,
broader and the annual rainfall rapidly increases,
so much so that irrigation ceases to be necessary.
Still following down the valley, the road leaves
the teservation and enters
MILES CITY, .
situated on the bank of Tongue river at its junction
with the Yellowstone, and 146 miles from Billings.
Though but a new town it has two newspapers,
two banks, a population of 2,000, and has become
quite a trade and shipping point. Surrounding
it is a large section of valuable agricultural land
that is being rapidly settled upon by an industrious
class of people. Fort Keogh is within two
miles of the city and on the opposite side of
Tongue river. For the next eighty miles the
valley proper widens considerably, and the upper
country back of it sinks from mountain ridges into
high, rolling hills, much of it fine farming and
grazing lands and other portions broken and rocky.
The land on both sides improves materially after
Powder river is crossed, and there are farms lying
open for the occupancy of thousands of industriou,
families. From Tongue river the road run, for
eighty miles farther along the south bank of the
Yellowstone, which here flows in a northeasterly
direction, until it finally leaves that stream at
CLENDIVE,
and strike, off across th 3 country eatward. Thi
is the place where the railroad makes connection
with steamers plying on the Yellowstone, and is
the commercial and shipping point for an immense
agricultural and grazing region. Not only the
valley lands, but the whole country embraced be
tween the Yellowstone and Missouri, from Glen
dive on the one to the mouth of Judith river on the
other, comprising an area of more than 5
square miles, is farming land of the finest quality
The dividing ridge between the two stream, ha,
almost, disappeared at this point, and the whole
country is one grand, rolling prairie, covered
with nutritious grass, having a rich, loamy wiL
and watered by numerous ttreams and a bounli