Your National Parks Part 18

People who engage in this kind of sport have characters that I cannot understand. These people, with all the advantages of culture and refinement, were out in the wild, lovely, splendid scenes. They had forgotten all other forms of recreation or enjoyment and had sunk back into barbaric blood-shedding "sport."

Man has appeared to the furred and feathered wilderness people as a wanton murderer. Animals have been constantly in danger, and nowhere nor at any time were they safe. Too often animals have been called cowards. They have grown shy and wild from necessity. Their life has depended on keeping out of the way of man. Along with the getting of food, their chief concern is "safety first." This requires that they be eternally vigilant to flee from the near presence of man. The invention of the long-range repeating rifle added a large element of fear and consequent shyness to the life of the wild people.

But now our National Parks are reforming man. The wildest of animals quickly become half-tame in any place that is safe. During the past few years thousands of excellent photographs have been made of big game in National Parks. Elk, antelopes, and mountain sheep have been photographed singly and in groups at the distance of only a few yards.

"It is better to let the wild beast run And let the wild bird fly; Each harbors best in his native nest, Even as you and I."

None of the big animals in the United States are ferocious. In parks it is men, not animals, who are on their good behavior--his hand restrained, man temporarily becomes as inoffensive as the animals. It may be, if we quit shooting animals on one side of a Park boundary-line, that in due time we shall become sufficiently civilized to stop killing people on the other side of a national boundary-line.

That the habitual wildness of birds and animals is the result of experience, rather than instinct, was forcefully ill.u.s.trated to me by a surprise that I enjoyed with wild mountain sheep in a side canon of the Colorado River in Arizona. Bighorn sheep are proverbially alert and wild. Imagine my astonishment when two or three of a flock of bighorns walked up and touched me with their noses! Evidently they had never before seen man. Trustfully they approached to satisfy their native curiosity.

For a number of days I was close to this flock, and several times I walked among them. They showed no excitement; they had nothing to fear. Without doubt, they had not been fired upon, chased, or even approached by man before. When I started for other scenes, one of the ewes of this wild herd followed me for more than an hour. Here were wild animals in a truly natural state! The abundance of easily watched bird and animal life in these numerous Parks affords a splendid opportunity to learn how these so-called wild people live and who they are.

Our greatest animal is the grizzly bear. In the Parks we may make his acquaintance. The story of "Ben Franklin," who was reared by James Capen Adams, "Grizzly Adams," an early mountaineer and hunter of California, tells of a n.o.ble grizzly bear.

While hunting in the Yosemite in 1854, Adams killed a mother grizzly and captured two tiny cubs. A greyhound suckled them, and Adams kept one of the cubs--Ben Franklin. Ben was never chained, but followed his master everywhere through the mountains with a devotion equal to that of a faithful dog. Adams always treated him with kindness and understanding, and trained him to carry huge packs. Ben also rendered other startling services.

One day, while returning from a hunt with Ben at his heels, Adams suddenly came upon a mother grizzly and three cubs in the close quarters of a thicket. The unexpected encounter probably caused the big bear to defend her cubs, and she sprang upon Adams before he could fire his rifle. He was knocked down and seriously wounded. Though still a youngster, Ben was grandly loyal and brave; he instantly sprang at the huge bear's throat and put up a courageous fight. This distracted the big bear's attention and gave Adams a chance to spring out of harm's way and shoot her. Little Ben was terribly bitten. So grateful was Adams that he dressed Ben's wounds before he attended to his own. Both Adams and Ben survived, and ever after they were close companions.

For brain-power, prowess, and sheer force of character the grizzly is the king of the wilderness. He knows it, and therefore is the aristocrat of the wilds. With real intelligence, and, if kindly tamed, with wonderful loyalty and devotion, he is an outdoor citizen of high type, and does not merit the extermination that threatens him.

A grizzly is ever alert, vigilant, and cautious, unless his well-developed b.u.mp of curiosity temporarily hypnotizes him and betrays him into momentary dullness and forgetfulness. He is not a coward, but simply believes in preparedness and safety first, and so seldom blunders into trouble. He is popularly believed to be ferocious. Two or three generations ago he may have been fierce, but he is not so now. He uses his keen wits to avoid man, and never attacks wantonly nor fights if he can avoid it. But he is a masterful fighter, with strength, endurance, courage, mentality, and prompt action in emergencies.

There is little that the grizzly or the black bear will not eat. Fresh meat or carrion, honey, gra.s.shoppers, ants, grubs, fish, mice and others pests, gra.s.s, fruits, berries, bark, roots, leaves--all may be included in the bill of fare of this omnivorous feeder. The grizzly appears more inclined to belong with vegetarians than with the Carnivora. He hibernates from three to five months each winter. The lat.i.tude, alt.i.tude, snowfall, weather, and the peculiarities and condition of the bear determine the length of his hibernation. Before entering a cave or opening to spend his hibernating sleep he fasts for a few days. In the spring, for several days after he emerges he eats little.

Except the Alaskan bear, the only other kind we have is the black bear. His habits are similar to the grizzly's, but he is smaller than the grizzly. The color of bears varies widely in the same family as well as in the two species and numerous subspecies. Color has nothing to do with the kind of bear: either the black or the grizzly may be black or cinnamon. The black bear is much more playful, and he climbs trees as readily as a cat. The grizzly does not climb into trees.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BLACK BEAR CUBS, SEQUOIA NATIONAL PARK]

The black bear is a playful bluffer. One day, as I was seated on the edge of Yellowstone Lake, several feet above the water, a young black bear came ambling by. In pa.s.sing, he leaped at me with a wild "woof." His bluff was effective. I shrank back, and tumbled into the lake.

The creation of the Yellowstone National Park, for "the benefit and enjoyment of the people," was one of the great achievements for mankind. It also was a great event in the world of wild folk. The Yellowstone is one of the greatest wild-life sanctuaries in the world.

In its thirty-three hundred square miles are numerous varieties of wild animals. Each summer as many as sixty thousand elk feed in it, and there are also buffaloes and antelopes, and flocks of sheep and herds of moose. Black bears are on every hand, and grizzly bears are often seen near by.

The caribou of the North make a long north-and-south migration with the seasons. The deer and the elk of the mountain parks, like many birds, simply migrate up and down the heights, spending summers in the high alt.i.tudes and winters in the foothills.

On the thousand hills, meadows, crags, and moorlands of the National Parks are herds, flocks, and bands of elk and moose and deer and the agile mountain sheep. There are more than five hundred kinds of birds.

A census of wild-life folk in all National Parks would show a numerous population: possibly a hundred thousand elk, half as many deer, several thousand sheep, a few thousand goats, several hundred antelopes, a few hundred moose, a thousand or so of bears, many thousand beavers; minks, conies, marmots, and muskrats in uncountable thousands; and birds in untold millions.

The antelope is a strange, isolated species. Formerly it ranged widely over the plains, but now it is almost exterminated. It has no dewclaw.

It can erect and depress its fluff of white tail at will; this is a means of signaling. Of all big game, the antelope perhaps is the fastest runner. This animal sheds the outer part of the horns each year, retaining the spikelike core.

The gray wolf, coyote, fox, lynx, otter, skunk, and porcupine are numerous in the Parks. The porcupine, even at his wildest, shows the least signs of fear and is the dullest-witted animal in the woods.

Glacier Park probably excels in the number of mountain goats. Here they are to be seen in one of the most picturesque and precipitous ranges, in topography which goats enjoy. The Rocky Mountain Park probably excels in the number of bighorn sheep.

Along the streams the picturesque beaver, a permanent home-builder, lately almost exterminated, is reestablis.h.i.+ng himself and restoring the scenes that were known to the pioneers.

The food of the beaver is the bark of aspen and willow trees. He does not eat fish or meat. Instead of hibernating in winter, beavers harvest a quant.i.ty of food-supplies in the autumn and store them for winter use. These are piled in the water beside their house. After gnawing down trees, cutting them into sections, and eventually eating the bark, they use the wood in constructing dams and houses.

Besides taking thought for the morrow, they build permanent homes, and keep them clean and in repair. They skillfully construct dams and ca.n.a.ls to insure a constant water-supply in which to live, work, play, and travel. These give a charm to landscapes, and are a benefit to mankind. Beavers were the world's first engineers and the first conservationists. They have industry, patience, and persistence, combined with mental power.

They live in colonies or communities. Evidently they know the wisdom of the old saying "All work and no play," etc., for they often play as well as work, and also take a long summer vacation. Excellent workers as they are, they avoid unnecessary labor and do less of it than any other animal I know. There were civic centers in the animal world long before man conceived such an idea for himself.

The mountain lion is one of the slyest and most elusive animals in the woods. Rarely is it seen, although its keen curiosity leads it to come close to camping-parties and to follow individuals through the woods.

On the lower slopes of most Parks a few snakes are found, but they are wholly absent from the middle and the higher slopes.

In most of the Park streams trout are found--Western brook trout, Eastern brook trout, and California rainbow trout.

Among the more prominent birds common in a number of the Parks are eagles, grouse, ptarmigans, Clarke crows, camp-birds,--Rocky Mountain jays,--robins, bluebirds, blackbirds, song sparrows, white-crowned sparrows, canon wrens, solitaires, and water-ouzels. In several of the National Parks a number of species of hummingbird are found.

Each spring many species of birds migrate up the mountain-slopes, where they nest in the alpine heights. The mountain migration, requiring a flight of only an hour or two, gives them climatic conditions similar to that of the Arctic Circle, to reach which would cost them a journey of several thousand miles.

Some species bring forth two broods each summer. The first is raised in the lowlands, where the young are fed while flower life in the lowlands is at its best. As soon as the young birds are able to care for themselves, the parent birds move up the mountain-side into the very heart of summer. Here they nest again. How romantic is every habit and custom in Bird World! The second nest of children is thus reared on the alpine slopes. This enables the old birds to bring up each brood in the midst of an abundant food-supply. The white-crowned sparrow and two or three species of hummingbird do this.

A closer study of birds and animals will probably reveal the fact that numbers of them mate for life. My experience has led me to believe that wolves and foxes, bluebirds, wrens, eagles, and other kinds of wild life do this.

Of all the birds in the West, or in the world, the one most hopefully eloquent is the solitaire. The song of the hermit thrush has a touch of sadness--it subdues and gives to one a touch of reflective loneliness; but the song of the solitaire stirs one to be up and doing; it gives the spirit of youth. Its song comes from ages of freedom under peaceful skies, from a mingling of the melody of winds and waters and of all rhythmic sounds that murmur and echo through Nature's wonderlands.

High up in the mountains of the National Parks lives the ptarmigan, the largest bird resident of the snowy heights. It spends the entire year in the alpine zone, rarely descending below timber-line. Even the summits of the peaks are visited by this sky-high dweller. Its dress changes with the seasons; in winter it is pure white, stockings and all; in midsummer it is grayish brown. These changing colors resemble those of the landscape and thus help protect the ptarmigan from its enemies, the weasel, fox, bear, eagle, and mountain lion. Although smaller than the grouse, it reminds one of that bird. It eats gra.s.ses and insects and the seeds and buds of alpine plants. Much of the winter-time is spent by these birds in the shelter of deep holes or runs beneath the compressed snow of the heights. Though far from the Arctic Circle, they are close relatives of the ptarmigan that dwells in the realm of the polar bear.

One of the best-dressed and best-mannered bird families that visit National Parks is that of the waxwing--cedar and Bohemian. These birds usually travel in flocks. At a small watering-place they drink in routine, moving forward in an orderly manner. When a number of them are resting upon a limb, if one catches an insect, he is quite likely to pa.s.s it to his neighbor, and the neighbor in turn to pa.s.s it to the next neighbor. Their dress is quiet, refined, and attractive to a marked degree. It is an interesting fact that these birds, so dainty of dress, so refined of manner, do not sing.

The canon wren is a beautiful singer. So, too, is the water-ouzel, a bird of the alpine brooks in the mountains of the West that has been immortalized by John Muir. But few species of birds sing every day in the year. One of those that do is the water-ouzel.

Most birds and animals appear to desire human society. Birds will leave the seclusion of the forest to build by the roadside where people pa.s.s. Some kinds of little feathered folk have deserted old nesting-scenes and now nest by human homes. Robins, wrens, and bluebirds confidingly raise their families in the scenes where children romp and play.

They may do this for better food opportunities and increased safety from enemies, but it is also plain that many birds come chiefly to satisfy their desire for human society. It has been often demonstrated that shy, well-fed birds and animals are hoping and waiting for friendly advances on our part. Wild neighbors are glad of the opportunity to call on us, whether we break bread or not. They are also glad to have friendly calls returned. Birds and animals have individuality. Food and kindness, and speaking to animals in the universal language--friendly tones--are all means of promoting acquaintance.

In the past we have greatly underrated the mental powers of animals.

An intimate a.s.sociation with wild life in the Parks will probably convince most people that wild animals have the power to think and reason. It may also acquaint people with the fact that animals as well as human beings possess the traits of love, hatred, jealousy, anger, and revenge. Any one who a.s.sociates much with wild life will discover the exceptional keenness of animal senses. In most animals scent is amazingly developed, and probably is the first of the senses to warn them of danger.

Most animals may be spoiled by excessive or improper feeding. In the Yellowstone Park the bears, which are omnivorous feeders, have free access to the garbage-dumps and eat all sorts of unwholesome abominations. This improper eating is bound to have a bad influence upon their habits, and is already spoiling their disposition. Beasts of prey in the Parks are held in check by the Government. Lions, lynxes, and other animals that become numerous and destructive, or bears that develop killing habits, are disposed of by the Government.

The excess of big game and birds in the Parks overflows and stocks the territory outside. Each year, too, hundreds of elk and other big animals are s.h.i.+pped from Yellowstone to many parts of the country.

Well might these Parks supply city zoos, or, better still, big wild-life reservations, with all available kinds of animals needed.

As well s.h.i.+p deer, moose, bears, beavers, and antelopes as to s.h.i.+p elk. Here is a large field for the distribution of wild life all over the United States. The general restocking of state and government wild-life reservations may enable cities to cease maintaining their animal prisons--the zoos.

XVIII

IN ALL WEATHERS

The seasons for visiting National Parks are spring, summer, autumn, and winter! Morning, noon, the sunset hour, under the stars and with the moon--all times, each in its way, are good for rambling in these places of instruction and delight. I have climbed numerous peaks by moonlight and starlight, and have stood on the summit of the Continental Divide with the winter moon. Nature is good at all times.

Rainy days, gray days, windy days, all have something for you not ordinarily offered. So, too, have the sunny winter days when upon the dazzling snow fall the deep-blue shadows of the pines. Forget the season and the weather; visit the Parks when you can stay there longest.