admirers waiting for her favors for from seven to twelve days, though when she does awake to activity she may possibly reward those of sufficient patience by a continuous performance of twelve hours' duration, though sometimes the eruption lasts but half an hour. When in action the Giantess throws up

a solid mass of water, of a diameter equal to that of the orifice, to a height of sixty feet; beyond that distance. other smaller streams ascend till sometimes a total height of 250 feet is attained.

are

The Beehive and Grand geysers credited with jets of 200 feet each; the former, throwing a stream three feet in diameter, having an irregular period of from twelve hours to four days and a duration of eight minutes (though of late it has been somewhat quieter than usual); the latter, with a spout twelve feet in circumference, playing for thirty minutes every twelve to twentyfour hours.

A few yards from the Grand Geyser is the Turban, which about once in twenty minutes spouts to a height of from fifteen to forty feet.

The Chinaman, which is a geyser of forty-foot spout when he can be teased into exhibiting, is remarkable for the way in which he acquired his name and disclosed a way in which lazy geysers may sometimes be spurred to action. In the sum

mer of 1885 a Celestial laundryman conceived the idea that a washee-washee" establishment would be a success if founded at a spot where water could be had ready boiled and free for the taking. What better site, then,- at least

plished a washing, he should empty the suds back into the spring from which he had drawn the original clean supply? The surprise of the ingenious wearer of the pigtail may be guessed when he found that the hitherto placid spring resented

OLD FAITHFUL

such a sullying of its purity by violently ejecting a torrent of boiling water which not only scared but scalded him.

This accident led to a custom, on the part of tourists, of "soaping" the geysers, or treating them to a taste of soap whenever it was desirable to stir them into activity. The United States authorities, however, discovered that such treatment was apt to impair the digestion, or at least the vitality, of the geysers, and the practice is now forbidden.

Investigations by a geologist resulted in ascertaining the facts that only those geysers were susceptible to the soap stimulus which held in their surface reservoirs a limited amount of water and exposed to

atmospheric influence but a small area of surface; and that the water must have already attained the boiling

point, or nearly so. One reason for the ebullition of geysers on the addition of soap or lye seems to be the fact that such admixture forms a viscous scum over the water, which favors the retention of steam and hence a rapid generation of explosive force. In the case of springs it was found that their temperature often reached a point above that of boiling water without producing ebullition, and that only the disturbing of equilibrium was necessary, by the interjection of foreign material, to cause an outburst which would last until the temperature was again reduced to the point of quiescence.

It has further been discovered that geysers of irregular periodicity are more susceptible to these disturbing influences than the regular spouters. Thus Old Faithful remains true to his schedule regardless of foreign interfer

ence, while the Beehive, with its uncertain movements, is easily seduced into action by a tempting bar of the essence of cleanliness.

Other well-known geysers of the Upper Basin for which we have no room for further description are as follows:

With regard to the claims that the geysers are showing loss of power, Captain Chittenden, before cited, says that it is entirely probable that the broad operation of general causes is on the side of ultimate extinction of all thermal activity in the region; that the evolution of the earth is in that direction; but that the process is a very slow one. The total sum of thermal energy displayed seems to be about the same as it was twenty-five years ago. Springs die out, and others take their places, and there is a constant change of this sort going on. In support of this theory he cites the case of the Mammoth

Hot

Continuing on the beaten track of the stage road, the next striking scene is Keppler's Cascade, a waterfall of grand effects; and shortly afterward, passing by the Lone Star geyser, the tourist climbs the great Continental Divide, a ridge which extends in a sinuous curve to the northward of Shoshone Lake, and thence southeasterly between

that sheet of water and Yellowstone Lake. Curious thoughts are suggested by a signpost the outstretched arms of which, pointing in opposite directions, indicate on the one side, "Atlantic Slope," and on the other, "Pacific Slope."

Through

Craig Pass,

again cross

ing the Continental Divide, the road winds up to Shoshone Point, overlooking Shoshone Lake, "a sapphire in the midst of emeralds," and thence, encountering the Divide for the third time, descends to Yellowstone Lake, a body of water of irregular shape, estimated to measure some 150 square miles, its greatest dimensions being twenty miles in length by about fifteen miles in width. To follow the indentations of its shores would necessitate a journey of from 100 to 120 miles. It is situated at an elevation of nearly eight thousand feet above sea level. Anglers reaching this sheet of water may well exclaim, after the manner of the lotoseaters of Tennyson's poem,—

-sang the immortal elegist of Stoke Pogis, and the same idea will apply to a little knot of iridescent pools that shyly hide themselves among the hills in the neighborhood of the boisterous Upper Geyser Basin. Mr. Wheeler, before quoted, says of this special group of the Park's wonders, that "Sunset Lake . . . is the most superb and beautiful example of brilliant and varied coloring that was probably ever seen, not in the Park only, but anywhere else," while "Black Sand Spring is a beautiful turquoise-blue pool having an outlet like unto a variegated ribbon," and "Emerald Pool, of a perfect emerald green, draws the most ex

"O rest ye, brother fishermen, we will not wander more, "

- for the lake teems with fish of the kind that makes the true angler's heart leap with the joy of his art. Both lake and river

trout, lusty with their battles for existence in the clear, cold mountain waters, afford a sport that is not experienced in more sluggish and warmer streams and pools.

From the point (the Thumb) near Duck Lake at which the stage road strikes Yellowstone Lake, the coaches proceed along the west shore, by way of Natural Bridge and the Mud Volcano, toward the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone River. Α steamer conveys passengers from the Thumb to the Lake Hotel near the outlet, making a partial tour of the lake en route. Hayden Valley, through which the road passes, is a beautiful tract of country, though its charms are somewhat marred for the lover of the purely picturesque by some of the uncanny scenes encountered on the way.

Sulphur Mountains, or Crater Hills, are two low elevations on either side of the road, seamed with fissures from which sulphurous vapors pour. Springs of boiling mud are found here and at another locality some two miles distant. Chrome Spring is a pit of boiling sulphur measuring about fifty feet in circumference, and strongly suggestive of future punishment to awe-struck sinners. But offensive as its odors may be to sensitive noses and consciences, its neighbor the Mud Volcano is still more so to the æsthetic eye. Formerly it ejected huge masses of black mud, but of late it has moderated its fury. The pure waters and feathery steam of the geysers convey to the mind no such horrible ideas of the infernal regions as does this foul spouter.

At this stage of the trip, though the beauties of the valley still claim admiration, visitors begin to feel eager to reach one of the chief glories of the Park,— the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. The river has its rise in the Shoshone Mountains of northwestern Wyoming, and flows thence, as we have seen, through Yellowstone Lake and Hayden Valley. After a succession of rapids it enters the Grand Canyon and makes its first leap, known as the Upper Fall, over a cliff 109 feet in height. A few hundred yards below, at the lower Fall, it makes a sheer plunge of 308 feet, the quantity of water being estimated at 1,200 cubic feet per second, but varying greatly at differ

ent seasons.

Every large waterfall has its own individual claim to fame. The mighty Niagara finds its crown in its enormous volume of water,- some 280,000 cubic

But

feet per second pouring over its precipices. The Canadian Montmorency eclipses Niagara in height, having 250 feet to its credit, but in the matter of altitude it must bow to the Lower Fall of the Yellowstone, which in turn must "hide its diminished head" before the 630 feet of the Bridal Veil and the 1,000 feet of the Virgin's Tears of the Yosemite in California. it is perhaps safe to say that none of the other great falls mentioned here can vie with the Yellowstone in the beauty of its setting. The walls of the Canyon, varying in height from 600 to 1,200 feet, have a magnificence of coloring which is hardly found in any other spot on the globe. Nature has been the sole artist, and in her gorgeous work she has been prodigal of paint. Almost every conceivable hue and shade may here be seen. Mr. Charles Warren Stoddard has thus described the delicacy of some of the tints:

"The eye is dazzled by a light which is peculiar to the Grand Canyon—a kind of permanent sunset or afterglow; . . . all the rich. est and most delicate shades of ochre are here blended and resolved into one another. On the top of the Canyon a waterfall plunges headlong into an abyss 300 feet below, and fills it with so dense a volume of spray that the face of the cliff streams constantly. There are traces of green there- the loveliest of green conceivable- the green of celery tips, moist and dripping.

"Above this green the walls, otherwise bare, are clothed with small clusters of trees; their green is luscious and dewy. Then nothing but color-color upon color, umber and amber of every conceivable shade. There are rocks of the richest vermilion hue, and patches of softest pink-pale rose tints as exquisite as a blush. There are spires and minarets, and stalagmites and crystallized peaks, all running the gamut of flesh tints, and all bathed in loveliest light. The effect is dazzling. Such pale, cream-colored walls, that seem to flush while you look at them, and to turn pale if you look steadfastly. Lustrous walls, filling the chasm with a radiant atmosphere which is indescribable, incomprehensible, and inconceivable; and at the bottom of them all a slim, green, frothing stream that seems to be hastening to hide itself away out of the almost insufferable splendor of that ravishing ravine.»

Another observer has compared the scene to "a blown-up paint-shop." Adopting this simile in part, the Rev. E. P. Hill has said:

"Just there to the right some huge pots of white and yellow and red paint have been tipped over, and it has flowed right down in