Speaker 1: Ephemeral is production of I Heart three D for full exposure,
Speaker 1: listen with that phones. It's surprising how easy it is
Speaker 1: to become lost, running down every aisle of a department store,
Speaker 1: looking for the person you entered with, down a distant
Speaker 1: tangle of back roads, pleading with a non functioning GPS,
Speaker 1: even a suburban back yard can turn sinister the instant
Speaker 1: you realize you've lost your bearings. But have you ever
Speaker 1: been truly hopelessly, frighteningly lost. In eighteen seventy, before Montana
Speaker 1: and Wyoming were states and America held no federally protected lands,
Speaker 1: some twenty explorers set out into the maze of uncharted
Speaker 1: wilderness known as Yellowstone among the Washburn Langford Done expedition
Speaker 1: was fifty four year old True and See efforts the
Speaker 1: Montana territories first federal tax assessor, who had recently found
Speaker 1: himself out of a jar. The party departed Helena the
Speaker 1: sixteenth of August on horseback, tracing the Continental Divide south
Speaker 1: via the Yellowstone River. The morning of September nine, everyone
Speaker 1: was accounted for. That night at camp, they realized Truman
Speaker 1: was missing. Immediately a search was organized. Steps were retraced
Speaker 1: two weeks were spent scouring the nearby headwaters of the
Speaker 1: Snake and Yellowstone Rivers, but there was no sign of
Speaker 1: their comrade. Later they recovered his riderless pack horse. But
Speaker 1: this story has a happy ending. On October two, searchers
Speaker 1: spotted Mr. Evarts, some fifty miles from where he had
Speaker 1: gone missing. He was in bad shape, delirious and injured,
Speaker 1: weighing on fifty pounds, but saved in time to make
Speaker 1: a full recovery. Within the following year, Truman Everts wrote
Speaker 1: a detailed account of his wanderings entitled thirty seven Days
Speaker 1: of Peril, which was published in the November one issue
Speaker 1: of Scribner's Monthly. Adapted for audio, the following is that story,
Speaker 1: in the author's own words, thirty seven Days of Peril. Wow.
Speaker 1: It desired to visit this remarkable region, of which during
Speaker 1: several years residents in Montana I had often heard the
Speaker 1: most marvelous accounts. Led me to unite in the expedition
Speaker 1: of August last. The general character of this stupendous scenery
Speaker 1: of the rocky mountains prepared my mind for giving credit
Speaker 1: to all the strange stories told of the yellow Stone,
Speaker 1: and I felt quite as certain of the existence of
Speaker 1: the physical phenomena of that country on the morning that
Speaker 1: our company started from Helena, as when I afterwards beheld it,
Speaker 1: I engaged in the enterprise with enthusiasm, feeling that all
Speaker 1: the hardships and exposures of a month's horseback travel through
Speaker 1: an unexplored region would be more than compensated by the
Speaker 1: grandeur and novelty of the natural objects with which it
Speaker 1: was crowded. Of course, the idea of being lost in
Speaker 1: it without any of the ordinary means of subsistence, and
Speaker 1: the wandering for days and weeks in a famishing condition
Speaker 1: alone in an unfrequented wilderness, formed no part of my contemplation.
Speaker 1: On the day that I found myself separated from the company,
Speaker 1: and for several days previous, our course had been impeded
Speaker 1: by the dense growth of the pine forest and occasional
Speaker 1: large tracts of fallen timber, frequently rendering our progress almost impossible.
Speaker 1: Whenever we came to one of these immense windfalls, each
Speaker 1: man engaged in the pursuit of a passage through it,
Speaker 1: and it was while thus employed that I strayed out
Speaker 1: of sight and hearing of my comrades. We'd had a
Speaker 1: toilsome day, and it was quite late in the afternoon.
Speaker 1: As separations like this frequently occurred, it gave me no alarm.
Speaker 1: Fully confident of soon rejoining the company or of finding
Speaker 1: their camp, I came up with the pack horse and
Speaker 1: rode on in the direction which I supposed had been taken,
Speaker 1: until darkness overtook me in the dense forest. This was
Speaker 1: disagreeable enough, but I had no doubt of being with
Speaker 1: the party At breakfast the next morning, I selected a
Speaker 1: spot for comfortable repose, picketed my horse, built a fire,
Speaker 1: and went to sleep. M m m hm. The next
Speaker 1: morning I rose at early dawn, saddled and mounted my horse,
Speaker 1: and took my course in the supposed direction of the camp.
Speaker 1: Our ride of the previous day had been upper Peninsula,
Speaker 1: jutting into the lake, for the shore of which I
Speaker 1: started with the expectation of finding my friends camped on
Speaker 1: the beach. The forest was quite dark and the trees
Speaker 1: so thick that in searching for the trail I became
Speaker 1: somewhat confused. The falling foliage of the pines had obliterated
Speaker 1: every trace of travel. I was obliged frequently to dismount
Speaker 1: and examine the ground for the faintest indicatations. Coming to
Speaker 1: an opening from which I could see several vistas, I
Speaker 1: dismounted for the purpose of selecting one leading in the
Speaker 1: direction I had chosen, and, leaving my horse unhitched, as
Speaker 1: it always been my custom, walked a few rods into
Speaker 1: the forest. I turned around in time to see him
Speaker 1: disappearing at full speed among the trees. This was the
Speaker 1: last I ever saw of him. My blankets, gun, pistols,
Speaker 1: fishing tackle, matches, everything except the clothing on my person,
Speaker 1: A couple of knives, and a small opera glass were
Speaker 1: attached to the saddle. Instead of following up the pursuit
Speaker 1: of the camp, I engaged in an effort to recover
Speaker 1: my horse. Half a day's search convinced me of its
Speaker 1: impracticability in an open space. I wrote and posted several notices, which,
Speaker 1: if my friends should chance to see, would inform them
Speaker 1: of my Isisian and the route I had taken, and
Speaker 1: then struck out into the forest in the supposed direction
Speaker 1: of their camp. As the day wore on without any discovery,
Speaker 1: alarm took the place of anxiety at the prospect of
Speaker 1: another night alone in the wilderness, and this time without
Speaker 1: food or fire. But even this dismal foreboding was cheered
Speaker 1: by the hope that I should soon rejoin my companions,
Speaker 1: who would laugh at my adventure, and incorporated as a
Speaker 1: thrilling episode into the journal of our trip. Seating myself
Speaker 1: on a log, I recalled every foot of the way
Speaker 1: I had traveled since the separation from my friends, and
Speaker 1: the most probable opinion I could form of their whereabouts
Speaker 1: was that they had, by a coarse but little different
Speaker 1: from mine, passed by the spot where I had posted
Speaker 1: the notices, learned of my disaster and were waiting for
Speaker 1: me to rejoin them. There were searching for me in
Speaker 1: that vicinity. A night must be spent amid the prostrate
Speaker 1: trunks before my return could be accomplished. I resigned myself
Speaker 1: to a couch of foliage in a thicket of small trees,
Speaker 1: naturally timid. In the night, I fully realized the exposure
Speaker 1: of my condition. The forest seemed alive with the screeching
Speaker 1: of night birds, the angry barking of coyotes, and the
Speaker 1: prolonged dismal howl of the gray wolf. Early the next morning,
Speaker 1: I rose, unrefreshed, and pursued my weary way over the
Speaker 1: prostrate trunks. It was noon when I reached the spot
Speaker 1: where my notices were posted. No one had been there.
Speaker 1: For the first time, I realized that I was lost.
Speaker 1: No food, no fire, no means to procure either, alone
Speaker 1: in an unexplored wilderness, one hundred and fifty miles from
Speaker 1: the nearest human abode, surrounded by wild beasts, and famishing
Speaker 1: with hunger. A moment afterwards, I felt how calamity can
Speaker 1: elevate the mind and the formation of the resolution not
Speaker 1: to perish in that wilderness. It was midday when I
Speaker 1: emerged from the forest into an open space at the
Speaker 1: foot of the peninsula. A broad lake of beautiful curvature
Speaker 1: with magnificent surroundings lay before me, glittering in the sunbeams.
Speaker 1: It was a full twelve miles in circumference. Large flocks
Speaker 1: of swan and other waterfowl were sporting on the quiet surface.
Speaker 1: Otters in great number performed the most amusing aquatic evolutions.
Speaker 1: Mink and beaver swam around unscared in the most grotesque confusion. Deer, elk,
Speaker 1: and mountain sheep stared at me, manifesting more surprised than
Speaker 1: fear at my presence among them. The adjacent forest was
Speaker 1: vocal with the songs of birds, chief of which were
Speaker 1: the chattering notes of a sees of mocking bird, whose
Speaker 1: imitative efforts afforded abundant merriment. With the belief that I
Speaker 1: had discovered the source of the great southern tributary of
Speaker 1: the Columbia, I gave it the name of Bessie Lake,
Speaker 1: after the sole daughter of my house and heart. A
Speaker 1: wide belt of sand formed the margin which I was approaching,
Speaker 1: directly opposite to which, rising seemingly from the very depths
Speaker 1: of the water, towered the loftiest peak of a range
Speaker 1: of mountains, apparently interminable. Seen under favorable circumstances, this assemblage
Speaker 1: of grandeur, beauty, and novelty would have been transporting, But
Speaker 1: I was in no humor for ecstasy. I recognized the
Speaker 1: mountain which overshadowed it as the landmark which a few
Speaker 1: days before had received from General Washburn the name of
Speaker 1: Mount Everts, And as it is associated with some of
Speaker 1: the most agreeable and terrible incidents of my exile, I
Speaker 1: feel that I have more than a mere discoverer's right
Speaker 1: to the perpetuity of that christening. Imagine my delight, while
Speaker 1: gazing upon this animated expanse of water, had seen sail
Speaker 1: out from a distant point a large canoe containing a
Speaker 1: single oarsman, rapidly approaching the shore where I was seated.
Speaker 1: With hurried steps, I paced the beach to meet it.
Speaker 1: As I drew near it turned towards the shore, the object,
Speaker 1: which my eager fancy had transformed into an angel of relief,
Speaker 1: stalked from the water. An enormous pelican flapped its dragon
Speaker 1: wings and flew to a solitary point farther up the lake.
Speaker 1: M Night was fast approaching, and while looking for a
Speaker 1: spot where I might repose in safety, my attention was
Speaker 1: distracted to a small green plant of so lively hue
Speaker 1: as to form a striking contrast with deep high foliage.
Speaker 1: For closer examination, I pulled it up by the root.
Speaker 1: It was a thistle, palatable and nutritious. My appetite craved it,
Speaker 1: and the first meal in four days was made on
Speaker 1: thistle roots. Overjoyed by this discovery, with hunger allaid, I
Speaker 1: stretched myself under a tree upon the foliage, which had
Speaker 1: partially filled the space between contiguous trunks and fell asleep.
Speaker 1: Suddenly I was roused by a loud, shrill scream, like
Speaker 1: that of a human in distress. There was no mistake
Speaker 1: in that fearful voice. I have been deceived by and
Speaker 1: answered it a dozen times while threading the forest. It
Speaker 1: was the screech of a mountain lion. To yell and return.
Speaker 1: Seized with convulsive grasp the limbs of the friendly tree
Speaker 1: and swing myself into it was the work of a moment.
Speaker 1: Scrambling hurriedly from living to limb, I was soon as
Speaker 1: near the top as safety would permit. I increased my
Speaker 1: voice to its utmost volume, broke branches from the limbs, and,
Speaker 1: in the impetucy of fright, madly hurled them at the spot.
Speaker 1: Whence the continued howlings proceeded, failing to alarm the animal,
Speaker 1: which now began to make a circuit of the tree,
Speaker 1: as if to select a spot for springing into it.
Speaker 1: I shook with a strength increased by terror, the slender trunk,
Speaker 1: until every limb rustled with motion, all in vain, Expecting
Speaker 1: every moment it would take the deadly leap. I tried
Speaker 1: to collect my thoughts and prepare for the fatal encounter.
Speaker 1: Which I knew must result. Just then it occurred to
Speaker 1: me that I would try silence. Clasping the trunk of
Speaker 1: the tree with both arms, I sat perfectly still. The
Speaker 1: lion imitated my example. Moments passed like hours, but after
Speaker 1: a lapse of time which I cannot estimate, the beast
Speaker 1: gave a spring into the thicket and ran screaming into
Speaker 1: the forest. My deliverance was effected. Had strength permitted, I
Speaker 1: should have retained my perch till daylight. But with the
Speaker 1: consciousness of escape from the jaws of the ferocious brute,
Speaker 1: came a sense of overpowering weakness, which almost palsied me
Speaker 1: and made my descent from the tree both difficult and dangerous.
Speaker 1: Incredible as it may seem, I lay down in my
Speaker 1: old bed and was soon lost in a slumber so
Speaker 1: profound that I did not awake until after daylight. I
Speaker 1: was roused by a marked change in the atmosphere. One
Speaker 1: of those dreary storms of mingled snow and rain common
Speaker 1: to these high latitudes, set in. My clothing, which had
Speaker 1: been much torn, exposed my person to its pitiless peltings.
Speaker 1: An easterly wind rising to a gale admonished me that
Speaker 1: it would be furious and of long duration. I could
Speaker 1: find no better shelter than the spreading branches of a
Speaker 1: spruce tree. The storm meanwhile raged with unabated violence. On
Speaker 1: the morning of the third day, taking full advantage of
Speaker 1: a lull in the elements, I rose early and started
Speaker 1: in the direction of a large group of hot springs,
Speaker 1: which were steaming under the shadow of Mount Everts. The
Speaker 1: distance I traveled could not have been less than ten miles.
Speaker 1: Long before I reached the wonderful cluster of natural cauldrons,
Speaker 1: the storm had recommenced. Chilled through with my clothing thoroughly saturated,
Speaker 1: I lay down under a tree upon the heated incrustacean
Speaker 1: and completely warmed. My heels and the sides of my
Speaker 1: feet were frozen. As soon as the warmth had permeated
Speaker 1: my system, I took a survey of my surroundings and
Speaker 1: selected a spot between two springs sufficiently asunder to afford
Speaker 1: heat at my head and feet. On this spot I
Speaker 1: built a bower of pine branches, spread its encrusted surface
Speaker 1: with the fallen foliage and small bows, and stowed myself
Speaker 1: away to await the close of the storm. Thistles were abundant,
Speaker 1: and I had fed upon them long enough to realize
Speaker 1: that they would, for a while at least sustain life.
Speaker 1: Inconvenient proximity to my abode was a small round boiling spring,
Speaker 1: which I called my dinner pot, in which from time
Speaker 1: to time I cooked my roots. This establishment I occupied
Speaker 1: seven days, the first three of which were darkened by
Speaker 1: one of the most furious storms I ever saw. I
Speaker 1: was enveloped in a perpetual steam bath. At first this
Speaker 1: was barely preferable to the storm, but I soon became
Speaker 1: accustomed to it, and before I left, though thoroughly parboiled,
Speaker 1: actually enjoyed it. On the third night after my arrival,
Speaker 1: there an unlucky movement, while asleep, broke the crust on
Speaker 1: which I reposed, and the hot steam pouring upon my
Speaker 1: hip scalded it severely. Before I could escape. This new affliction,
Speaker 1: added to my frost bitten feet already festering, was the
Speaker 1: cause of frequent delays and unceasing pain through all my wanderings.
Speaker 1: I had little else to do during my imprisonment but cook,
Speaker 1: think and sleep. Selfish as the thought may seem, there
Speaker 1: was nothing I so much desired as a companion in misfortune,
Speaker 1: how greatly it would alleviate my distress. What a relief
Speaker 1: it would be to compare my wretchedness with that of
Speaker 1: a brother's sufferer, and with him devise expedients for every
Speaker 1: exigency as it occurred. I confess to the weakness, if
Speaker 1: it be one, of having squandered much pity upon myself
Speaker 1: during the time I had little else to do. Nothing
Speaker 1: gave me more concerned than the want of fire. I
Speaker 1: recalled everything I had ever read or heard of the
Speaker 1: means by which fire could be produced, but none of
Speaker 1: them were within my reach. An escape without it was
Speaker 1: simply impossible. It was indispensable as a protection against night
Speaker 1: attacks from wild beasts. Exposure to another storm like the
Speaker 1: one just over would destroy my life, as this one
Speaker 1: would have done, but for the warmth derived from the springs.
Speaker 1: As I lay in my bower anxiously awaiting the disappearance
Speaker 1: of the snow, which had fallen to the depth of
Speaker 1: a foot or more, a gleam of sunshine lit up
Speaker 1: the bosom of the lake, and with it the thought
Speaker 1: flashed upon my mind that I could, with a lens
Speaker 1: from my opera glasses, get fire from heaven, subjecting it
Speaker 1: to the test of experiment. I saw the smoke curl
Speaker 1: from the bit of dry wood and my fingers. If
Speaker 1: the whole world were offered me for it, I would
Speaker 1: cast it all aside. Before parting that little spark, I
Speaker 1: set to work, making preparations for as early departure as
Speaker 1: my condition would permit. I had lost both knives since
Speaker 1: parting from the company, but I now made a convenient
Speaker 1: substitute by sharpening the tongue of a buckle which I
Speaker 1: had cut from my vest. With this, I cut the
Speaker 1: legs and counters from my boots, making them a passable
Speaker 1: pair of slippers, which I fastened to my feet as
Speaker 1: firmly as I could strips of bark with the rattlings
Speaker 1: from a linen handkerchief. Aided by this magic buckle tongue,
Speaker 1: I mended my clothing. Of the same material, I made
Speaker 1: a fish line, which, on finding a piece of red
Speaker 1: tape in one of my pockets better suited to the purpose,
Speaker 1: I abandoned as a bad job. I made of a
Speaker 1: pin that I found in my coat official, and by
Speaker 1: sewing up the bottoms of my bootlegs, constructed a good
Speaker 1: pair of pouches to carry my food. In fastening them
Speaker 1: to my belt by the straps, I said to myself,
Speaker 1: I will not despair. On the morning of the day
Speaker 1: after my arrival at the springs, I bade them a
Speaker 1: final farewell and started on my course across the neck
Speaker 1: of the peninsula between me and the southeast arm of
Speaker 1: yellow Stone Lake. Weakened by a long fast and the
Speaker 1: unsatisfied nature of the only food I could procure, I
Speaker 1: know that from this time onward to the day of
Speaker 1: my rescue, my mind was in a condition to receive
Speaker 1: impressions akin to insanity. I was constantly traveling in dream
Speaker 1: land and indulging in strange reverie such as I had
Speaker 1: never before known. I seemed to possess a sort of
Speaker 1: duality of being, which, while constantly reminding me of the
Speaker 1: necessities of my condition, fed my imagination with vagaries of
Speaker 1: the most extravagant character. Nevertheless, I was perfectly conscious of
Speaker 1: the tendency of these morbid influence is, and often tried
Speaker 1: to shake them off, But they would ever return with
Speaker 1: increased force, and I finally reasoned myself into the belief
Speaker 1: that their indulgence, as it afforded me pleasure, could work
Speaker 1: no harm. While it did not interfere with my plans
Speaker 1: for deliverance. Thus I lived in a world of ideal
Speaker 1: happiness and in a world of positive suffering. At the
Speaker 1: same time. A change in the wind and an overcast sky,
Speaker 1: accompanied by cold, brought with them a need of warmth.
Speaker 1: I drew out my lens and touch wood, but alas
Speaker 1: there was no sun, I sat down on a log
Speaker 1: to await his friendly appearance. Hours passed, he did not come.
Speaker 1: Cold freezing night set in. He found me exposed to
Speaker 1: all its terrors. A bleak hillside sparsely covered with pines,
Speaker 1: afforded poor accommodations for a half clad, famished man. I
Speaker 1: could only keep from freezing by the most active exertion
Speaker 1: in walking, rubbing, striking my benumbed feet and hands against
Speaker 1: the logs. At the time it seemed the longest, most
Speaker 1: terrible night of my life. And when the approaching dawn
Speaker 1: enabled me to commence retracing my steps to Bessie Lake,
Speaker 1: I arrived there at noon, built my first fire on
Speaker 1: the beach, and remained by it, recuperating for the succeeding
Speaker 1: two days. The faint hope that my friends might be
Speaker 1: delayed by their search for me until I could rejoin them,
Speaker 1: now forsook me Altogether, I made my arrangements independent of it.
Speaker 1: I there of three directions I might take would affect
Speaker 1: my escape if life and strength held out. I drew
Speaker 1: upon the sand map. Of each. One was the follow
Speaker 1: Snake River, a distance of one hundred miles or more
Speaker 1: to Eagle Rock Bridge. Another to cross the country between
Speaker 1: the southern shore of Yellowstone Lake and the Madison Mountains
Speaker 1: by scaling, which I could reach the settlements in the
Speaker 1: Madison Valley. And the other to retrace my journey over
Speaker 1: the long and discouraging route by which I had entered
Speaker 1: the country. The last mentioned seemed the least inviting. I
Speaker 1: had heard and read so much concerning the desolation and
Speaker 1: elemental upheavals and violet waters of the upper valley of
Speaker 1: the Snake, that I dared not attempt to return in
Speaker 1: that direction. The route by the Madison Range, encumbered by
Speaker 1: the single obstruction of the mountain barrier, was much the shortest,
Speaker 1: and so most unwisely as well hereafter appear I adopted it.
Speaker 1: All that day I traveled over timber heats, amid tree tops,
Speaker 1: and through thickets. At noon, I took the precaution to
Speaker 1: obtain fire with a brand, which I kept alive by
Speaker 1: frequent blowing and constant waving to and fro. At a
Speaker 1: late hour in the afternoon, faint and exhausted, I kindled
Speaker 1: a fire for the night on the only vacant spot
Speaker 1: I could find amid a dense wilderness of pines. The
Speaker 1: burn on my hip was so inflamed that I could
Speaker 1: only sleep in a sitting posture with my back against
Speaker 1: a tree, the smoke from the fire almost enveloping me
Speaker 1: and its suffocating folds. I vainly tried to woo the
Speaker 1: drowsy god. My imagination was instinct with terror. I could
Speaker 1: see the blazing eyes of a formidable forest monster fixed
Speaker 1: upon me. I fancied that I heard the swift approach
Speaker 1: of a pack of yelping wolves through the distant brushwood,
Speaker 1: coming to tear me limb from limb. Whenever, by fatigue
Speaker 1: or weakness, my terror yielded to drowsiness, the least noise
Speaker 1: roused me to a sense of the hideousness of my condition. Once,
Speaker 1: in a fitful slumber, I fell forward into the fire
Speaker 1: and inflicted a wretched burn on my hand with what agony,
Speaker 1: I loaned for day. Another day of unceasing toil among
Speaker 1: the tree tops and thickets overtook me near sunset, standing
Speaker 1: upon a lofty headland jutting into the lake in front
Speaker 1: of me at a distance of fifty miles away, and
Speaker 1: the clear blue of the horizon rose the arrowy peaks
Speaker 1: of the three Tetons. On the right rolled the picturesque
Speaker 1: range of the Madison, scarred with clefts, ravine, gorges and canyons.
Speaker 1: Above where I stood were the lofty domes of mounts
Speaker 1: Langford and Done, And rising seemingly from the promontory which
Speaker 1: favored my vision was the familiar summit of Mount Everts,
Speaker 1: at the base of which I had dwelt so long,
Speaker 1: and which still seemed to hold me within its friendly shadow.
Speaker 1: With a lighted brand in my hand, I effected a
Speaker 1: most difficult and arduous descent of the abrupt and stony
Speaker 1: headland to the beach of the lake. The sand was
Speaker 1: soft and yielding. I kindled a fire and removed the
Speaker 1: stiffened slippers from my feet, attached them to my belt,
Speaker 1: and wandered barefoot along the sandy shore to gather wood
Speaker 1: for the night. The dry warm sand was most grateful
Speaker 1: to my lacerated and festering feet, And for a long
Speaker 1: time after my woodpile was supplied, I sat with them
Speaker 1: uncovered at length, conscious of the need of every possible
Speaker 1: protection from the freezing night. I sought my belt for
Speaker 1: the slippers, and one was missing, and gathering the wood
Speaker 1: had become detached and was lost. Darkness was closing over
Speaker 1: the landscape. When sorely disheartened with the thought of passing
Speaker 1: the night with one foot exposed of freezing temperature, I
Speaker 1: commenced a search for the missing slipper. I knew I
Speaker 1: could not travel a day without it, Fearful that it
Speaker 1: had dropped into the lake and had been carried by
Speaker 1: some recurrent wave beyond recovery. I searched for an hour
Speaker 1: among fallen trees and bushes, up the hillside and along
Speaker 1: the beach, in darkness, with flaming brands, at one moment
Speaker 1: crawling on hands and feet into a brush, heat, another
Speaker 1: peering among logs and bushes and stones. No language can
Speaker 1: describe the joy with which I drew the cause of
Speaker 1: so much distress from beneath the limb, that as I passed,
Speaker 1: had tore it from my belt. With great relief. I
Speaker 1: now sat down in the sand, my back to a
Speaker 1: log and listened to the dash and roar of the waves.
Speaker 1: It was a wild lullaby, but it had no terrors.
Speaker 1: For a worn out man, I never passed a night
Speaker 1: of more refreshing sleep. When I awoke, my fire was extinguished,
Speaker 1: save for a few embers, which I soon fanned into
Speaker 1: a cheerful flame. I ate breakfast and started along the
Speaker 1: beach in pursuit of a camp, believing that if successful,
Speaker 1: I should find directions what to do and food to
Speaker 1: sustain me. The search which I was making lay in
Speaker 1: the direction of my pre arranged route to the Madison Mountains,
Speaker 1: which I intended to approach at their lowest point of altitude.
Speaker 1: Boyed by the hope of finding food and counsel, and
Speaker 1: another night of undisturbed repose was in the sand, I
Speaker 1: resumed my journey along the shore, and at noon found
Speaker 1: the camp last occupied by my friends on the lake.
Speaker 1: A dinner fork, which afterwards proved to be of infinite
Speaker 1: service and digging roots, and a yeast powder can which
Speaker 1: would hold half a pint, and which I converted into
Speaker 1: a drinking cup and dinner pot. Were the only evidences
Speaker 1: that the spot had ever been visited. Why did they
Speaker 1: forget to leave me food? It never occurring to me
Speaker 1: that they might have cashed it, as I have since learned,
Speaker 1: they did in several spots nearer the place of my
Speaker 1: separation from them. An hour of sunshine in the afternoon
Speaker 1: enabled me to procure fire, which I carried to my
Speaker 1: camping place. There I built a fire, and to protect
Speaker 1: myself from the wind, which was blowing violently, lashing the
Speaker 1: lake into foam, I made a bower of pine bows
Speaker 1: crept under it. Very soon fell asleep. I was aroused
Speaker 1: by the snapping and cracking of the burning foliage. My
Speaker 1: left hand was badly burned, and my hair singed closer
Speaker 1: than a barber would have trimmed it. While making my
Speaker 1: escape from the semicircle of burning trees. The grandeur of
Speaker 1: the burning forests surpasses description. An immense sheet of flame
Speaker 1: following to their tops, the lofty trees of an almost
Speaker 1: impenetrable pine forest, leaping madly from top to top, and
Speaker 1: sending thousands of forked tongues a hundred feet or more
Speaker 1: athwart the midnight darkness, lighting up with lurid glare the
Speaker 1: surrounding scenery of lake and mountain. I never before saw
Speaker 1: anything so terribly beautiful, on on on, and favored by
Speaker 1: the gale, the conflagration spread with lightning swiftness over an
Speaker 1: illimitable extent of country, filling the atmosphere with iving clouds
Speaker 1: of suffocating fume, and leaving a blackened trail of spectral trunks,
Speaker 1: shorn of limbs and foliage, smoking and burning. Among the
Speaker 1: disasters of this fire, there was none I felt more
Speaker 1: seriously than the loss of my buckle, tongue, knife, my pin,
Speaker 1: fish hook, and tape fish line. Resolved to search for
Speaker 1: a trail no longer. When daylight came, I selected for
Speaker 1: a landmark, the lowest notch in the Madison Range. All
Speaker 1: the day until nearly sunset, I struggled over rugged hills,
Speaker 1: through windfalls, thickets, and matted forests, with the rock ribbed
Speaker 1: beacon constantly in view. As I advanced, it receded, as
Speaker 1: if in mockery of my toil, Night overtook me, with
Speaker 1: my journey half accomplished. Before daylight, I was on my way.
Speaker 1: Long before I arrived at the base of the range.
Speaker 1: I scanned hopelessly it's insurmountable difficulties, an endless succession of
Speaker 1: inaccessible peaks and precipices, rising thousands of feet sheer and
Speaker 1: bare above the plain. No friendly gorge or gully or
Speaker 1: canyon invited such an effort as I could make to
Speaker 1: scale this rocky barrier. I seated myself on a rock
Speaker 1: upon the summit of a commanding hill and cast my
Speaker 1: eyes along the only route which now seemed tenable, down
Speaker 1: the yellow Stone. How many dreary miles of forest and
Speaker 1: mountain filled this terrible panorama. I thought that before accepting
Speaker 1: this discouraging alternative, I would spend a day in search
Speaker 1: for a pass twenty miles at most would take me
Speaker 1: into the Madison Valley, and thirty more restore me to
Speaker 1: friends who had abundance. Supposing that I should find plenty
Speaker 1: of thistles, I had left the lake with a small supply,
Speaker 1: and that was entirely spent. I looked in vain for
Speaker 1: them where I then was. While I was thus considering
Speaker 1: whether to remain and search for a passage or returned
Speaker 1: to the Yellowstone, I experienced one of those strange hallucinations
Speaker 1: which many of my friends have misnamed insanity, but which
Speaker 1: to me was providence. An old clerical friend for whose
Speaker 1: character and counsel I had always cherished peculiar regard in
Speaker 1: some unaccountable manner, seemed to be standing before me, charged
Speaker 1: with advice which would relieve my perplexity. I seemed to
Speaker 1: hear him say, go back immediately, as rapidly as your
Speaker 1: strength will permit. There is no food here, and the
Speaker 1: idea of scaling these rocks is madness. Doctor. The distance
Speaker 1: is too great. I cannot live to travel it, say not. So.
Speaker 1: Your life depends upon the effort. Return at once. Start now,
Speaker 1: lest your resolution falter. Travel as fast and as far
Speaker 1: as possible. It is your only chance. Doctor. I am
Speaker 1: rejoiced to meet you in this hour of distress, but
Speaker 1: doubt the wisdom of your counsel. Just over these rocks,
Speaker 1: a few miles away, I shall find friends. My shoes
Speaker 1: are nearly worn out, my clothes are in tatters, my
Speaker 1: strength is almost overcome. As a last trial, it seems
Speaker 1: to me, I can but attempt to scale this mountain,
Speaker 1: or perish in the effort. Don't think of it. Your
Speaker 1: power of endurance will carry you through. I will accompany
Speaker 1: you Overcome by these and other persuasions, and delighted with
Speaker 1: the idea of having a traveling companion, I plodded my
Speaker 1: way over the route I had come, intending at a
Speaker 1: certain point to change it so as to strike the
Speaker 1: river at the foot of the lake. Yeah. Whenever I
Speaker 1: was disposed, as was often the case, to question the
Speaker 1: wisdom of the change of roots, my old friend appeared
Speaker 1: to be near with words of encouragement, but his reticence
Speaker 1: on other subjects both surprised and annoyed me. Really, I
Speaker 1: lost all sense of time. Days and nights came and went,
Speaker 1: and were numbered only by the growing consciousness that I
Speaker 1: was gradually starving. I felt no hunger, did not eat
Speaker 1: to appease appetite, but to renew strength. I experienced but
Speaker 1: little pain. The gaping sores on my feet, the severe
Speaker 1: burn on my hip, the festering crevices at the joints
Speaker 1: of my fingers, all terrible in appearance, had ceased to
Speaker 1: give me the least concern. The roots which supplied my
Speaker 1: food had suspended the digestive power of the stomach, and
Speaker 1: their fibers were packed in it in a matted, compact mass.
Speaker 1: Not so with my hours of slumber. I would visit
Speaker 1: the most gorgeously decorated restaurants in New York and Washington,
Speaker 1: sit down to immense tables spread with the most appetizing viands,
Speaker 1: partake of the richest oyster stews and plumpest pies, engage
Speaker 1: myself in the labor and preparation of curious dishes, and
Speaker 1: with them fill range upon range of elegantly furnished tables
Speaker 1: until they fairly groaned beneath the accumulated dainties prepared by
Speaker 1: my own hands. It was a cold, gloomy day when
Speaker 1: I arrived in the vicinity of the falls. I had
Speaker 1: no heart to gaze upon a scene which a few
Speaker 1: weeks before had inspired me with rapture and awe. One
Speaker 1: moment of sunshine was of more value to me than
Speaker 1: all the marvels amid which I was famishing. But the
Speaker 1: sky was overcast and denied me all hope of obtaining fire.
Speaker 1: The only alternative was to seek shelter in a thicket.
Speaker 1: The coldness increased through the night. Constant friction with my
Speaker 1: hands and unceasing beating with my legs and feet saved
Speaker 1: me from freezing. It was the most terrible night of
Speaker 1: my journey, And when, with the early dawn I pulled
Speaker 1: myself into a standing posture, it was to realize that
Speaker 1: my right arm was partially paralyzed, my limbs so stiffened
Speaker 1: with cold as to be almost immovable. Fearing lest paralysis
Speaker 1: should suddenly seize the entire system, I literally dragged myself
Speaker 1: through the forest to the river. Seated near the verge
Speaker 1: of the great canyon below the falls, I anxiously awaited
Speaker 1: the appearance of the sun. That great luminary never looked
Speaker 1: so beautiful as when a few moments afterwards he emerged
Speaker 1: from the clouds and exposed his glowing beams to the
Speaker 1: concentrated power of my lens. I kindled a mighty flame,
Speaker 1: fed it with every dry stick and broken tree top
Speaker 1: I could find, and, without motion, and almost without sense,
Speaker 1: remained beside it for several hours. The great falls of
Speaker 1: the yellow Stone were roaring within three hundred yards, and
Speaker 1: that awful canyon yawned almost at my feet. They had
Speaker 1: lost all charm for me. I longed for death, not
Speaker 1: less as the beginning of happiness than as a release
Speaker 1: from misery. But my thoughts would revert to the single
Speaker 1: being on whom my holiest affections centered my daughter. Could
Speaker 1: I be restored to her for a single hour long
Speaker 1: enough for parting, counsel and blessing, it would be joy unspeakable.
Speaker 1: Long hours of painful travel were relieved of physical suffering
Speaker 1: by this absorbing agony of the mind, which, when from
Speaker 1: my present standpoint I contrasted with the personal calamities of
Speaker 1: my exile, swells into mountains. Soon after leaving Tower Falls,
Speaker 1: I entered the open country. Pine forest and windfalls were
Speaker 1: changed for sage brush and desolation, with occasional tracks of
Speaker 1: stinted verdure barren hillsides exhibiting here and there an isolated
Speaker 1: clump of dwarf trees and ravines filled with a rocky
Speaker 1: debris of adjacent mountains. My first camp on this part
Speaker 1: of the route, for the convenience of getting wood, was
Speaker 1: made near the summit of a range of towering foothills.
Speaker 1: Towards morning, a storm of wind and snow nearly extinguished
Speaker 1: my fire. It was still raging when I arose, and
Speaker 1: the ground white with snow. I had lost my course
Speaker 1: of travel. No visible object seen through the almost blinding
Speaker 1: storm reassured me there was no alternative but to find
Speaker 1: the river and take my direction from its current. Fortunately,
Speaker 1: after a few hours of stumbling and scrambling among rocks
Speaker 1: and overcrest, I came to the precipitous side of the
Speaker 1: canyon through which it ran, and with much labor both
Speaker 1: of hands and feet, descended it to the margin. I
Speaker 1: drank copiously of its pure waters, and sat beside it
Speaker 1: for a long time, waiting for the storm to abate.
Speaker 1: Chilled through my tattered clothing saturated, I saw before me
Speaker 1: a night of horrors unless I returned to the fire.
Speaker 1: The scramble up the side of the rocky canyon, in
Speaker 1: many places nearly perpendicular, was the hardest work of my journey. Often,
Speaker 1: while clinging to the jutting rocks with hands and feet
Speaker 1: to reach a shelving projection, my grasp would unclose and
Speaker 1: I would slide many feet down the sharp declivity. It
Speaker 1: was night when, sore from bruises, I reached my fire.
Speaker 1: The storm, still raging, had nearly extinguished it. I found
Speaker 1: a few embers in the ashes, and with much difficulty,
Speaker 1: kindled a flame here on this bleak mountain side. As
Speaker 1: well as I now remember, I must have passed two
Speaker 1: nights beside the fire in the storm. Many times during
Speaker 1: each night I crawled to a little clump of trees
Speaker 1: to gather wood and brush and the broken limbs of
Speaker 1: fallen tree tops. All the sleep I obtained was snatched
Speaker 1: from the intervals which divided these labors. It was so
Speaker 1: harassed with frightful dreams as to afford little rest. I
Speaker 1: remembered before I left this camp, stripping up my sleeves
Speaker 1: to look at my shrunken arms. Flesh and blood had
Speaker 1: apparently left them. The skin clung to the bones like
Speaker 1: wet parchment. A child's hand could have clasped them from
Speaker 1: wrist to shoulder. I hobbled on my course through the snow,
Speaker 1: which was rapidly disappearing before the rays of the warm sun.
Speaker 1: Well knowing that I should find no thistles in the
Speaker 1: open country. I had filled my pouches with them before
Speaker 1: leaving the forest. My supply was running low. There was
Speaker 1: several days of heavy mountain travel between me and Botler's ranch.
Speaker 1: With the most careful economy, it could last but two
Speaker 1: or three days longer. One day, while ascending a steep hill,
Speaker 1: I fell from exhaustion into a sage brush, without the
Speaker 1: power to rise unbuckling my belt, as was my custom,
Speaker 1: I soon fell asleep. I have no idea of the
Speaker 1: time I slept, but upon awakening I fastened my belt,
Speaker 1: scrambled to my feet, and pursued my journey. As night
Speaker 1: drew on, I selected a camping place, gathered wood into
Speaker 1: a heat, and felt from my lens to procure fire.
Speaker 1: It was gone. If the earth had yawned to swallow me,
Speaker 1: I would not have been more terrified. I seemed to
Speaker 1: feel the grim messenger, who had been long pursuing me,
Speaker 1: knocking at the portals of my heart as I lay
Speaker 1: down by the side of the woodpile and covered myself
Speaker 1: with limbs and sage brush, with the dreadful conviction that
Speaker 1: my struggle of life was over and I should rise
Speaker 1: no more. With the rapidity of lightning, I ran over
Speaker 1: every event of my life. Thoughts doubled and trebled upon me,
Speaker 1: until I saw, as if in vision, the entire past
Speaker 1: of my existence. It was all before me, as if
Speaker 1: painted with a sunbeam, and all seemingly faded like the
Speaker 1: phantoms of a vivid dream. I summoned all the powers
Speaker 1: of my memory, thought over every foot of the day
Speaker 1: travel and concluded that the glass must have become detached
Speaker 1: from my belt while sleeping, five long miles over the hills,
Speaker 1: must be retraced to regain it. There was no alternative,
Speaker 1: and before daylight I had staggered over half the distance.
Speaker 1: I found the lens on the spot where I had slept.
Speaker 1: No incident of my journey brought with it more of
Speaker 1: joy and relief. I resumed my journey the next morning
Speaker 1: with the belief that I should make no more fires
Speaker 1: with my lens. I must save a brand or perish.
Speaker 1: The day was raw and gusty, and east wind charged
Speaker 1: with storm penetrated my nerves with irritating keenness. After walking
Speaker 1: a few miles, the storm came on, and a coldness
Speaker 1: unlike any other I had ever felt seized me, had
Speaker 1: entered all my bones. I attempted to build a fire,
Speaker 1: but could not make it burn. Seizing a brand, I
Speaker 1: stumbled blindly on, stopping within the shadow of every rock
Speaker 1: and clump to renew energy for a final conflict for life,
Speaker 1: a solemn conviction that death was near, that at each
Speaker 1: pause I made my limbs would refuse further service, and
Speaker 1: that I should sink, helpless and dying in my path
Speaker 1: overwhelmed me with terror. Amid all this tumult of the mind,
Speaker 1: I felt that I had done all I could do.
Speaker 1: I knew that in two or three days more I
Speaker 1: could affect my deliverance. And I derived no little satisfaction
Speaker 1: from the thought that, as I now was in the
Speaker 1: broad trail, my remains would be found, and my friends
Speaker 1: relieved of doubt as to my fate. Groping along the
Speaker 1: side of the hill, I became suddenly sensible of a
Speaker 1: sharp reflection, as of burnished steel. Looking up through half
Speaker 1: closed eyes, two rough but kindly faces met my gaze.
Speaker 1: Are you, mister Evarts, Yes, all that's left of him?
Speaker 1: We have come for you. Who sent you Judge Larrence
Speaker 1: and other friends? God bless him and them you I
Speaker 1: am saved. And with these words, powerless of further effort,
Speaker 1: I fell forward into the arms of my preservers, in
Speaker 1: a state of unconsciousness, on the very brink of the
Speaker 1: river which divides the known from the unknown. Strong arms
Speaker 1: snatched me from the final plunge, and kind ministrations wooed
Speaker 1: me back to life. In two days I was sufficiently
Speaker 1: recovered in strength to be moved twenty miles down the
Speaker 1: trail to the cabin of some miners who were prospecting
Speaker 1: in the vicinity. The night after my arrival at the cabin,
Speaker 1: while suffering the most excruciating agony, and thinking that I
Speaker 1: had only been saved to die among friends, a hunter
Speaker 1: whose life was spent among the mountains, listened to the
Speaker 1: story of my sufferings. Why Lord, bless you, If that's
Speaker 1: all I have the very remedy you need in two
Speaker 1: hours time, all shall be well with you. He returned
Speaker 1: in a moment with a sack filled with the fat
Speaker 1: of a bear. From this he rendered out a pint
Speaker 1: measure of oil. I drank the whole of it. The
Speaker 1: next day I was freed from pain, with appetite and
Speaker 1: digestion reestablished. In a day or too, I took leave
Speaker 1: of my kind friends, meeting the carriage on my way,
Speaker 1: I proceeded to Bozeman, where I remained among old friends
Speaker 1: until my health was sufficiently restored to allow me to
Speaker 1: return to my home in Helena. My heartfelt thanks are
Speaker 1: due to the members of the expedition, all of whom
Speaker 1: devoted seven and some of them twelve days to the
Speaker 1: search for me before they left Yellowstone Lake and to
Speaker 1: Judge Lawrence of Helena, in the offer of reward, which
Speaker 1: sent Baronet and Pritchett to my rescue. My narrative is finished.
Speaker 1: In the course of events. The time is not far
Speaker 1: distant when the wonders of the Yellowstone will be made
Speaker 1: accessible to all lovers of sublimity, grandeur and novelty, and
Speaker 1: natural scenery and its majestic waters become the abode of
Speaker 1: civilization and refinement. And when that arrives, I hope, in
Speaker 1: happier mood and under more auspicious circumstances, to revisit scenes
Speaker 1: fraught for me with such thrilling interests, to ramble along
Speaker 1: the glowing beach of Bessie Lake, to sit down amid
Speaker 1: the hot springs under the shade of Mount Everts, to
Speaker 1: thread unscarred the mazy forest, retrace the dreary journey to
Speaker 1: the Madison Range, and with enraptured fancy, gaze upon the
Speaker 1: mingled glories and terrors of the great balls and marvelous canyon,
Speaker 1: and to enjoy in happy contrast with the trials, they
Speaker 1: recall their power to delight, elevate, and overwhelm the mind
Speaker 1: with wondrous and majestic beauty, remember the slant on your bags,
Speaker 1: lad in your eyes. It was the coldest wins, its
Speaker 1: longest ear. We want to dry. I weren't dry once
Speaker 1: we can WoT sink bot I had h Thirty seven
Speaker 1: Days of Peril was written by Truman Evarts, performed by
Speaker 1: Ben Boarn and adapted by Alexander Williams, with the voices
Speaker 1: of Matt Frederick, Noel Brown, and Nathaniel Maloney, and special
Speaker 1: thanks to Trevor Young and Max Williams. The song Warm
Speaker 1: and Draw was used courtesy of the band un and US.
Speaker 1: Listen to the album at you me and us dot
Speaker 1: bandcamp dot com for links to the unabridged story and
Speaker 1: more on everything you heard. Hre searching further than a
Speaker 1: Femily dot Chew