The Henson Journals

[77]

Wednesday, June 16th, 1909.

We left 'Old Faithful Inn' at 7 a.m. and drove 19 miles to the "Thumb" Bay Lunch Station. In the morning air the geyser–field presented a truly wonderful appearance. Every little geyser uttered itself in steam. It seemed as if the souls in purgatory were at their Mattins, & sending Heavenwards the incense of their agonizing prayers. Our road lay mainly through pine–forests, being diversified by magnificent views, & occasionally by some feature – a rocky gorge or a fierce water–fall – which arrested the coach.

At the Lunch Station we found ourselves again among the geysers. Here the close proximity of the Yellowstone Lake gave a new interest to the boiling springs. One cone was even in the lake itself, five or six feet from the shore. Here was a cauldron of hot water, and swimming around it were trout. One could catch, & cook them without shifting one's position! One tiny geyser on the very shore of the lake started playing before us, & for ten minutes made a pretty show. The 'paint–pots' here are more than commonly interesting. They throw lumps of clay some feet into the air.

The ride of 15 miles from the Lunch Station to the Lake Hotel was again through pine–wood, & mostly up–hill, which was hard on the horses. Mosquitoes & other stinging pests molested us sorely.

[78]

One striking feature of our drive was the snow which in places was heaped to a height of six or seven feet beside the road. Gangs of men were at work clearing the way. Many trees had fallen across, & been cut through. The telegraph wire was down. As we passed one party of shovellers, one of them, an old man of grimy aspect, shouted the scornful question, How d'ye like this Boolyroo? Our driver told us that this rough looking object was worth 60,000 dollars, & yet continued shovelling &c – a true philosopher.

After dinner we went round to the rear of the hotel to look for bears, but to no purpose. The soldier on duty told me that last year several bears had to be shot because they injured themselves with the tin pots cast out from the hotel kitchen. Bruin is very fond of sweet things. He thrusts his paws into the can which contains his delicacy, & thus carries it to his mouth: but one bear couldn't get his paw free of the can, & carried it off with him. His efforts to disengage himself were violent and injurious. Blood–poisoning set in, & the poor beast presented a hideous aspect until he was mercifully dispatched.

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