Burning Ground

by D. A. Galloway

  “Yes, sir,” Foley replied apologetically. “I didn’t know. Don’t have nothin’ like this in Kansas where I growed up.”

  Peale nodded at the young man, then pulled a pair of field glasses from his saddle pack and scanned the western horizon beyond the pine-covered hills.

  “I wonder if there are other hot springs nearby,” Peale said as he peered through the binoculars.

  Graham took off his backpack and removed a brochure he had obtained from the ranger station at Old Faithful when he hitchhiked there. It included a detailed map of both geyser basins including all the principal thermal features and modern-day hiking trails and paths. He expected this would be an especially useful reference during the next few days.

  The time traveler turned his back to Peale and Foley while he reviewed the map of the Lower Geyser Basin. After finding their current location at the base of the Porcupine Hills, he noted there was another collection of hot springs nearby. These would later be named the Quagmire Group. Graham folded the map and put it in his pack before addressing Peale.

  “Mr. Peale, since we discovered hot springs on the northern side of these small hills, isn’t it likely there might be springs to the south—on the other side of the hills?” Graham asked inquisitively.

  “You can call me Albert,” Peale said as he looked toward the forested hills. “Hmmm. That’s a good hypothesis. It looks like we can cross between those two hills. Let’s go have a look.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the trio was gazing on nine small springs scattered over a half mile of treeless, sinter-crusted earth. Peale was delighted with the discovery and immediately started his sample-collection process. Many of the pools were quite deep. One was especially beautiful, as it was filled with clear blue water and ringed by orange algae. It reminded Graham of a miniature version of the Morning Glory Pool he had seen in the Upper Geyser Basin.

  It was nearly one o’clock when the last samples were collected. The group headed back over the pine-covered hills and rode north until they came across the Nez Perce, then turned west. A few minutes later, they saw Hayden and the remaining group, which had set up camp along the creek.

  “Hello, Doctor,” Peale said as they approached and dismounted. “Are we camping here for the evening?”

  “Yes. We’re hoping the hunters were successful so we can have a good dinner. They’ve been gone all day. Did you have any luck?”

  “Indeed. I have samples and temperatures from over a dozen thermal pools. Graham’s suggestion about where to look bore much fruit,” Peale reported.

  Graham felt a tinge of guilt about having knowledge of this area that made him seem prescient. But he certainly was going to use this information to his advantage whenever possible.

  “I have some hot-spring samples to add to your collection. Perhaps you can spend the afternoon in this area looking for plant specimens along the river basin. Davidson can assist you in preparing anything you find,” Hayden suggested.

  Late in the afternoon, Graham and Peale were sitting by the cooking fire pressing plant specimens between sheets of paper when Joe Clark rode into camp. Hayden had recruited Clark and Rides Alone as hunters. Their principal responsibility was providing meat for the expedition-team members.

  “Sorry, fellas,” Clark said as he dismounted and took a swig of water from his canteen. “Didn’t see nary an elk, deer, or bison all day. Big game is scarce as hen’s teeth round here,” he declared.

  A short while later, Rides Alone appeared on his bay roan Appaloosa. He led the horse to the fire and shook his head. “No big animals. Too hot. Need to hunt in mountains.”

  “Well, boys. Looks like biscuits and prunes tonight ´less somebody kills a squirrel or bird,” Gibson, the cook, said and shrugged as he mixed flour and salt in a stone crock.

  * * *

  Ice had accumulated on the edges of the poncho Graham used as a ground cover when he woke the next morning. After Gibson made biscuits and coffee for breakfast, the small group broke camp and started toward the Lower Geyser Basin with Makawee in the lead. A few miles later, they approached the Firehole River, which flowed through a wide, sinter-covered basin. Following the river south, the survey team crossed a small tributary east of the Firehole around midday and reached a cluster of mud pots, geysers, hot springs, and fumaroles.

  Graham surreptitiously consulted his geyser basin map and surmised they were exploring the area around the Fountain Group. The thermal features were so numerous Peale spent the entire afternoon collecting samples. Graham recognized the famous Fountain Paint Pots, colorful mud pots created by rhyolite rock being dissolved into clay and infused with iron. Because it was late summer and the water table was low, the mud in these pots bubbled like thick gravy on a hot stove.

  The small team witnessed several sporadic and brief geyser eruptions while they walked among the thermal features under a nearly cloudless sky. Foley held the equines while Peale and Graham carefully collected water and mud samples. Although he was more cautious after yesterday’s admonition from Peale, the young soldier had to move away quickly when a geyser abruptly pushed hot water skyward.

  Fountain Geyser by Henry Wood Elliott

  When Peale walked around the perimeter of a large, shallow spring, Graham approached Foley.

  “John, remember what Mr. Peale said. You need to stay clear of springs and geysers, especially when you are tending the horses and my mule.”

  “Okay. But it don’t seem right. I just have a hankering to see these wunnerful things.”

  The Hayden and Barlow groups shared a camp in the afternoon beside the small creek. Their tents were within earshot of a large geyser erupting periodically in the distance. Once again, the hunters came back without any game. Their evening meal was biscuits, prunes, and tea.

  Graham noticed Makawee and Rides Alone were not camping anywhere near the rest of the group. When he inquired where they were, Hayden indicated the Crows were going to sleep in an old hunting wickiup a few miles away for the next few nights. The time traveler was hoping to find a reason to talk with Makawee. Now that he knew Rides Alone hunted every day, he thought he might be able to speak with the young Crow woman before her stepbrother returned in late afternoon. He planned to ask Peale for a few hours of free time tomorrow for a visit.

  * * *

  Five men arrived at camp in the early evening with additional supplies. They included Lt. Grugan, two soldiers, Henry Elliott, and Aurelio. The hostler offered to share his fly, but since the sky was clear, Graham chose to sleep under the stars. For breakfast the next morning, Gibson filled a pot with a thin mixture of flour, water, salt, and baking powder. He coated several frying pans with bacon grease saved from previous meals and encouraged each man to take turns cooking his own slapjacks over the fire. This variant of a flour-based product was a welcome change from the usual biscuits, but everyone was hopeful the hunters could soon supply some meat for their diet.

  Hayden instructed Goodfellow to try his hand at fishing, since they would be camped at the same location for another night, and he didn’t need to pull the odometer wagon. Unfortunately, his efforts were not successful because the Firehole River was devoid of fish. Several fish species including westslope cutthroat trout thrived in the Madison River, which originates at the junction of the Firehole and Gibbon rivers. But a forty-foot waterfall on the Firehole serves as a natural barrier to upstream migration of fish from the Madison. It would be nearly twenty years before brook trout and brown trout were introduced into Nez Perce Creek and the Firehole River.

  Peale, Graham, and Foley rode a short distance from camp to the large geyser they heard spouting yesterday. Those who had previously seen this geyser erupt suggested naming it Great Fountain because of the magnificent height of its water plume. When the trio arrived, the geyser was quiet with hot water collecting in a large pool at its base.

  “I’d really like to see this geyser in action,” Peale commented to his companions as he collected rock and water specimens from its large bas
in. “They say it is quite spectacular.”

  “I wanna see it, too!” Foley chimed in enthusiastically.

  After thirty minutes of waiting and watching, Peale became impatient. He was conflicted between leaving the area and missing the next eruption and exploring the myriad of other thermal features in the vicinity.

  “Graham, I’m going to wait here a while longer. Why don’t you scout the immediate area for springs or mud pots? This will save us time searching for hot springs later. Mark the area by any springs you find where I can safely collect a sample. Report back here in an hour. Take Private Foley with you,” Peale directed.

  Foley was clearly disappointed. He would have much rather stayed with Peale at the Great Fountain and witness the pending eruption than wander around looking for hot springs. But he didn’t complain.

  “Okay. I think we will explore along the small stream to the south.” Graham had consulted his map of the lower geyser basin last evening and knew a large cluster of minor springs and geysers straddled White Creek only a few hundred yards from the Great Fountain geyser.

  Graham mounted his mule, and Foley did the same with his horse. They had ridden only about five hundred feet when they came to Firehole Spring, although it had yet to be named. The center of the clear blue hot spring was actively bubbling. A range of ochre-colored bacteria and minerals formed into terraced pools that overflowed down a small slope into White Creek. Graham almost pulled his Kodak Instamatic camera from his pack to take a picture but knew he would not be able to explain the gadget to his soldier escort.

  The time traveler dismounted Lindy and led her to the south side of the spring, seeking a good location where Peale could collect his sample. He was acutely aware of the danger of walking too closely to these thermal features. With no boardwalks, railings, or paths, the fragile crust had not been weight-tested. The uphill side of the spring looked solid, so he walked on that edge toward the spring.

  “Follow my path exactly. Don’t go anywhere else,” Graham ordered as he turned toward Foley, who was leading his horse and walking directly behind Lindy. Graham shuffled toward the edge of the boiling spring and felt assured he was on solid ground. He constructed a small cairn by placing five flat rocks on top of one another for the sampling point, then led Lindy away from the pool.

  “Ahhh!” A cry of anguish pierced the morning air.

  Graham spun around to see Foley quickly scrambling away from the edge of the spring on his butt. He had fallen through the crust up to his knees into a vein of hot water below the surface. He writhed in pain and dropped the reins of his horse. The animal panicked and reared, coming down hard on its front legs. When the horse landed, its hooves punched through the crust into the hot subsurface. The terrified creature let out a high-pitched squeal in pain and stumbled backward before collapsing and falling on its side.

  Amid the noise and confusion, Lindy panicked and tried to flee, but Graham held tightly to the mule’s reins. He spotted a lodgepole pine twenty yards away and ran toward the tree with Lindy in tow. After securing the mule to the tree, he ran back toward the wailing soldier. Ignoring the horse, Graham reached under Foley’s armpits and dragged him away from the spring.

  Graham glanced down at Foley’s legs. Both pant legs below the knees were steaming from the hot water. Graham quickly removed the soldier’s boots and socks, tossing them aside. He used his pocketknife to cut off the soaked pant legs at the knees. Large patches of red epidermis stuck to the clothing as he peeled the wet fabric from the soldier’s legs.

  What he observed was horrifying. The skin was deep red, and large areas of blisters were already forming on his shins and toes. Foley continued to shriek and moan, violently turning his head from side to side in abject pain.

  “Foley!” Graham shouted over the injured man’s shrieks and the screaming horse thirty feet away. “I’m going to get help!”

  He sprinted back to Lindy. As Graham was mounting the mule, he thought of something to temporarily soothe the soldier’s pain. He retrieved his canteen and raced back to Foley, who was squirming on his back and reaching toward his scalded legs. The Pennsylvanian slowly poured cool water over both burned legs. The water provided a measure of relief, as the soldier’s moaning lessened slightly.

  “Look at me!” Graham said as he grabbed the soldier’s chin. Staring into Foley’s teary eyes, he placed the canteen into the burn victim’s hands. “Pour this water on your legs. I’ll be right back!”

  As Graham urged Lindy into a gallop toward Great Fountain geyser, he could feel his heart pounding. Everything had unfolded so quickly. Had Foley followed him as he had been instructed? Or had he taken his own path to the spring? He would determine this later. Right now, his priority was getting medical help. He remembered Peale had a medical degree, although he was uncertain of the preferred care for severe burns in 1871.

  Peale was sitting near the geyser pool taking notes. Graham started shouting before his mule came to a stop.

  “Foley fell into a hot spring! He’s badly burned! Hurry!”

  Peale snapped the book shut, stuffed it into his coat pocket, and jumped onto his horse. Graham pivoted Lindy and urged her back toward Firehole Spring. In a few minutes they arrived at the scene of the mishap. Foley was lying on his back yelling incoherently. Beads of perspiration matted his curly brown hair onto his forehead. He had emptied the canteen of water on his legs and tossed it aside. Peale assessed the situation and grabbed his own canteen from his saddle pack to apply more cool water.

  Peale raised his voice so he could be heard over the sounds of pain emanating from Foley and his horse. “Go back to camp. Get as many men as you can find. Send someone to fetch Doctor Hayden. He has some experience with severe burns. We’re going to need lots of cool water. And bring back my medical kit. You will find it in my tent.”

  “Okay,” Graham said as he placed his left foot in the stirrup and started to mount Lindy.

  “Wait! One more thing. Shoot that horse to put it out of its misery!”

  Graham looked over at the horse screaming and flailing on the ground, its eyes wide with fear and pain. The thin hide covering the forelegs had turned white. Large pieces of skin had sloughed off the front legs of the injured animal. Though shooting the severely wounded equine was clearly the right decision, he hesitated for a moment at the unpleasant task.

  “Shoot the horse! Then get help!” Peale yelled over the screeching sounds of the wounded animal as he continued to pour water over Foley’s burned legs.

  Graham nodded and quickly tied Lindy to the pine tree before removing the Spencer carbine from its scabbard. He sprinted to the horse, cocked his weapon, and pushed a cartridge into the firing chamber. Aiming between the horse’s eyes at close range, he pulled the trigger and mercifully silenced the dying equine. After the report from the carbine echoed through the geyser basin, the only sound came from the young man who was in excruciating pain.

  Lindy knew her way back to the Great Fountain geyser by now. When Graham arrived at the large basin, he frantically scanned the area. No one was waiting at the idle geyser, so he continued north a few hundred yards to the campsite. He was relieved when he spotted Aurelio, Gibson, and three cavalry soldiers, one of whom was Frank Grugan. Graham quickly explained the situation to the officer.

  Lt. Grugan ordered one of the soldiers to find Dr. Hayden and tell him he was urgently needed back in camp. He told the other soldier to assist Gibson with filling several jugs of water from the creek.

  “Which one is Peale’s tent?” Graham asked.

  “Follow me,” Aurelio replied as they hurried over to the canvas shelter where the mineralogist/physician slept the previous night. Opening the front flap, Graham saw a stack of boxes at the rear of the tent. The first few were filled with water samples, plant specimens, and rocks. When he opened the third box, he could see from the contents it was the medical kit. The wooden container had an assortment of dressings, bandages, knives, and scissors, as well as ointments, powders, and
bottles of herbal tinctures. Graham closed the lid, grabbed the box, and hurried out of the tent.

  Gibson had strapped the water onto the soldier’s horse by looping a rope through the jug handles and draping them over the front of the saddle. Lt. Grugan, the enlisted man, Aurelio, and Graham mounted and headed south toward the accident scene.

  Foley was still moaning loudly when the rescue team arrived. Peale had placed a blanket under the injured man’s head and was kneeling beside him. Graham quickly dismounted and carried the box over to the medical school graduate while the soldier lugged the water bottles to the patient.

  “We need to slowly pour cool water on these burns. One man on each leg,” Peale instructed.

  Aurelio and the soldier positioned themselves on either side of Foley and began to wet the red, blistered skin with creek water. Peale sifted through the box until he found a dark-green bottle labeled laudanum. He removed the cork and directed Graham to assist in raising Foley’s head so he could take the medicine. Peale tilted the bottle to the injured man’s lips and told him to drink.

  Foley winced and coughed when he swallowed the first dose of the bitter reddish-brown medicine.

  “You need to drink more,” Peale said calmly. “It will help the pain.”

  The physician administered two more doses of the tincture of opium before easing Foley’s head back onto the blanket. He corked the bottle and handed it to Graham. The bottle’s label indicated the morphine-codeine mixture was manufactured by Steelman & Archer, wholesale druggists from Philadelphia. Graham wondered what other medicines Peale had packed before he left Pennsylvania for Montana. He hoped there was something in the box for treating burns.

  Peale pulled a binaural stethoscope equipped with a wooden bell from his kit and listened to the injured man’s lungs and heart.