Yosemite Nature Notes · Volume 35, Number 3
1956
Kick and AC illo~c Twigs --rin,c( Adam,
Children of the Yosemite Valley school (with some adult gate-crashers) on a ride around the valley. Summer of 1889 or 1890. Front seat, left to right: Kate Crippen (driving), Mrs. White (?); Miss F. M. Hall, teacher; Stella Fleming. At rear, left to right: Onisk Kenney (looking over Miss Hall's shoulder); Mrs. Barnard; Charley Kenney (looking over Mrs. Barnard's shoulder); Blanche Kenney (close to and in front of Mrs. Barnard); Roger Barnard (standing); Laurence Degnan (author of this article, with white collar, seated next to wheel); Walter Kenney (white cloth hat); Tissie Barnard (seated, near wheel). -Never illustration from "Yosemite and the Sierra Nevada" Used permission of Houghton Mifflin Company. CORRECTION: Some interesting things sneak by the most careful of proof readers. Line one in the right column of page 11 of our January issue should read, "some 180 refuges, of which 5 are national parks." Total acreage of Federal land in these areas, 23,886,427.03. DHH.
THE MONTHLY PUBLICATION OF THE YOSEMITE NATURALIST DIVISION AND THE YOSEMITE NATURAL HISTORY ASSOCIATION, INC.
In C. Preston, Superintendent D. E. McHenry, Park Naturalist H. Hubbard, Assoc. Park Naturalist W. C. Bullard, Asst. Park Naturalist R. W. Carpenter, Park Naturalist (Trainee)
VOL. XXXV MARCH 1956 NO. 3 THE YOSEMITE VALLEY SCHOOL
By Laurence V. Degnan Part II To this school my mother dragged me on Tuesday, April 2, 1889, and during the next eight years I trudged back and forth between home and this same schoolhouse. The session started the day before, and I attended regularly, and under difficulties. They lived on Glacier Point, and every day, mounted on this same schoolhouse. The session donkeys, they made that long trip from their home to school and back again. They left home at 7 o'clock why I was a day late, I do not remember. They left home at 7 o 'clock remember. The teacher was Miss in the morning, and reached the Frances M. Hall, from Hinsdale, schoolhouse about 8 :30. The return Cattaraugus County, New York - trip took two and one-half hours, so an excellent teacher, very prim and the teacher let them out at 3:30 in precise, but a little mite severe. She the afternoon, an arrangement that was followed in succession at this got them home at 6 o 'clock, if there same location by Annie Kerrins, were no delays. Now and then, on Mrs. Winslow Gallison, Nettie Craig (Nettie), and May White. During Miss White's tenure we moved to better quarters.
On April 1, the first day of school, four pupils, all from the Kenney family, were enrolled: Oniska, Blanche, Willder, and Charlie. The next day I brought the number up to five. On April 3, John K. Barnard's children, Tissie and Guy, who had arrived from Merced, enrolled later in the summer. These seven comprised the total student body for that first month.
Johnnie McCauley's twin sons, John and Fred, were present for two days. I do not seem to have attended the school further during this time but they were back later. The return trip, they would load one (Nett, and May White. During Miss of the donkeys with supplies for While' s tenure we moved to better their hotel, would take turns riding quarters. the other one. On such occasions On April 1, the first day of school, they would not reach home until;bur pupils, all from the Kenney famabout 7 in the evening. But these Ily, were enrolled : Oniska, Blanche, difficulties were taken in stride, and Witiler, and Charlie. The next day the McCauleys, who were used to 1 1 it utght the number up to five, roughing it, did not consider them 4itu en April 3, John K. Barnard' s hardships. children, Tissie and Guy, who Besides their educational activih i.I urived from Merced, enrolled ties, these same burros had the imktt the summer. These seven conportant job of carrying wood from 11111111 d the total student body for the near-by forest to the location of 1~1a Itrrt month. the fire-fall. In those days the fire-fall ',untie McCauley's twin sons, John was not a nightly affair, but was Otntd Fred, were present for two days, generally by special appointment *I do not seem to have attended the with James McCauley, the sponsor unite school further during this paying a small charge of two del-
lairs. The job of packing the wood and setting it up for the fire belonged to the twins, and the two-dollar fee went into their little bank account. After long and faithful service on the "school run" and the "fire-fall run ", one of the poor donkeys was killed by the accidental discharge of a rifle, which McCauley's oldest son Jules had used shortly before to kill a beef at Glacier Point. Later in the 1889 term, Edith Jacobs, from Merced, arrived at Barnard' s for the summer, and enrolled in the school. Then, toward the end of summer, Jack Leidig and his sisters Belle, June, and Alice, returned to the school after a temporary absence in Los Angeles, and our enrollment climbed to about a dozen. During the time that I was at the school the number of children in attendance ranged from 5 or 6 to 16 or 18; after a few years most of the pupils were supplied by the Kenney family and the Degnan. family, just as in earlier times the Leidigs and the Harrises and the Howards constituted the bulk of the student body. The schoolhouse was a rough unpainted one-room frame shack, 24 feet long by 16 feet wide. The walls were a single thickness of vertical boards and battens, which directly supported the wall plate and shake roof, there being no studding. There was no ceiling or interior lining, not even the white cloth ceiling, so common in other buildings in those days, tacked to the lower chords of roof trusses or to other horizontal ceiling members, and generally sagging under an accumulated load of dust. As a small youngster, noting the absence of studs or columns, I used to gaze at the open rafters and wall plates and shakes, and wonder how in the world the roof remained aloft, supported only by those flimsy berrds and kittens. But the strueti withstood all the winds and sic-in of almost a quarter of a century, til it was abandoned for school l poses. In the shaded, cold nook in wi the schoolhouse stood, the accu lated snow on the roof at times came deep enough to threaten building, and had to be shove'] off. When I became a little old this snow shoveling job was mine, and in a few of the heat, winters I must have shoveled i "sixteen tons " more than once. As might be inferred from the ty of construction, the walls of schoolhouse contained many k.; holes and cracks; through the openings friendly green lizards us to crawl and visit the school, cli p ing to the walls as we chanted ti multiplication table, or rattled ""Maine, New Hampshire, Vermci Massachusetts", and so on. Inde in the "Annual Report of the Con tion of Common Schools " the una Miss Frances M. Hall. Teacher in Yosem Volley, 1 889 and 1890.
lenient of the year was the YoIle Valley District 's annual anr "yes", to the question : "Are the ools well ventilated? " ! Yet notihntanding its generous air-condifling, the schoolhouse was not Cotufortable. The sessions were d in the warmer part of the yea-, a large pot-bellied stove took of the occasional rainy days in hurler and the cooler days o1 illy and autumn. Ow front yard, partly flooded in e seasons by high water, was o ding ground for mosquitoes, during a part of our school term were devoured by these pests teacher always had on hand a Ile of spirits of camphor or a cake / camphor,ice, which she and the ►tilt; applied copiously to the Untl) :; and welts on face and hands. stn addition, sprigs of pungent laurel, Ot 1, •nnyroyal, or both, were placed Und the school room, and on the ks and persons of the pupils. But uninformed mosquitoes did not to to know that these plants re led them, and they found that the uit) little Yosemite school children the comely schoolmarms, either •nidied with laurel and penny al or served up plain, were Iuhty good eatin ' ". Water was never piped to this Oitt : Altar schoolhouse, but "running Wtlh': " we had in abundance in the %1 r.r,, I River about 100 yards diswitrt One or two of the larger boys wan, assigned the task of carrying ~~1a tt •l cool supply from the river in U Iii •ket. Then at intervals during Iha day one of these boys would Make the rounds of the schoolroom with the bucket and a tin dipper, killing out a drink to each youngOar In turn, all drinking in succes0011 Irorn the same dipper. Sanitary l litluts? None whatsoever. For some &Pawl' the job of "watering the aniMiss Mary Adaire taught in Yosemite 1882 and 1883. mals" carried a certain prestige, and was sought after by the big boys. Our innocent freedom from the bugaboos of germs and contagion is well illustrated by another everyday practice of ours. The dried and hardened resin on the outside of pine trees was an excellent home-grown chewing gum, extensively used by us school children. Its pronounced flavor was not unpleasant, but the gum was a bit more wearying to the jaws than the "store boughten" Adams Tutti-frutti or Black Jack; in addition, in the first stages of the chewing process, it was brittle and crumbly, and required a period of warming and softening up before it became sufficiently plastic. For this reason (as well as general sociability) we habitually saved time and labor by borrowing a chew from the active jaws of some schoolmate who had already processed his chewing gum, and passing the same wad around from one to another. The only indication of a less than corn-
Y( );->I;M1 I I. NAIL MI :. NU ES
plete acceptance of the custom that ally used in our a :ithmcite less, I can remember come from one of I do not recall that any fancy Iri the teachers, who said that she were attempted with the abc, would not chew another person's and its use was mostly limitccl gum unless she knew that person showing how many sacks of pot( il very well! good old generous A had alto' Notwithstanding our crude estabstarted with seven sacks and cl~: lishment, we were fairly well equipthree of them to B. pod, with maps and globes, an For some yea_-s after I star abacus, an unabridged Webster 's school, we were all equipped dictionary, a blackboard along the slates, on which we did most of southwesterly end of the room, and writing. Practically every boy au, a small but good library. During my ly learned that the most effect first term or two our furniture conway to clean a slate of written o sisted of very rough home made ter in preparation for a new assi benches and tables, but later on ment, was to spit on it and then these were replaced with factoryit a swipe with the sleeve of I made school desks. A manikin, coat or shirt as the case might I showing the human body in a series The teachers made every effort of superimposed colored plates, was discourage this practice, even to t later added. One of these plates, point of supplying the pupil wi showing hobnailed liver, and others cute little sponges or strips of fI charting the p-ogressive deterioraset in the edge of a tiny water C.I. tion of the human stomach from that twiner, the whole being about i! first wee drop to "the last stages of size of present day match books. L delirium tremens ", were given a all efforts to curb our inelegant me good workout by some of the more od of erasing were stoutly resiste abstemious teachers. and I do not believe the proble Next to the blackboard, the most was eliminated until slates wer active piece of school equipment abolished. was the abacus, which was continu- (To Be Continued) The Wawona Covered Bridge du
Yt );I,MI'l'l : NATIIlll; 1'JU'I'l'
CAN THE WAWONA COVERED BRIDGE BE SAVED?
By Arthur G. Rempel, Ranger Naturalist The old bridge at Wawona, p:obItaly antedated the building of the ly the only covered bridge in the road from Wawona to Mariposa, Ilrt n National Park System, is which Washburn completed after rut to fall. Time and the Christmas gaining ownership of the Wawona 1 of 1955 have taken their toil property. The old bridge, an integral unless immediate stabilization and essential part of Clark ' s early he undertaken this important road, was built in 1858 not as the k with the past will be but a merecovered structure now seen but as ritzy, an open frame affair, built of great The' following story about the inhand-hewn beams of ponderosa i0tesiing history of the old bridge, pine. which crosses the South Fork of the When Henry Washburn and his Minced River at Wawona, was told partners purchased the interests of b mr" by Mr. Bill Bruce. Mr. Bruce Galen Clark in 1875 they proceeded $ tilt old time resident of Wawona to roof over the bridge and enclose shd ct nephew of Henry Washburn, the sides to keep water off of the who succeeded Galen Clark in owngreat timbers and to give general tlhlf of Clark 's Station. Although protection from the weather. Lumber ~IIM account differs in major points for this project was cut in Wash- "PM the commonly accepted idea burn 's saw mill, just placed in operlhrtl the historic bridge was built by ation and equipped with a sash saw Hsrtty Washburn in about 1875, Mr. as well as a circular saw. The formPst,o " story helps explain the exer was used to cut large logs into 101ti1Fi•e of both hand-hewn beams of twelve inch cants which were then tgFl.~>nmtly early date and millcut into the side timbers for the *wed lumber of a later period in bridge with the circular saw. Marks tlha hedge. It also raises interesting from this saw may be seen upon OpiN.tIlations about the early beginthe side lumber of the bridge to this Wtt of the bridge and about actividay, as can axe marks upon the In the Wawona area in general. large hand-hewn beams of the main. >rding to Mr. Bruce, the facts are framework. tpgt fellows : A further alteration came in 1900, ht can effort to be the first to prowhen extensions added at each end vtda travel facilities into the Yosembrought the structure to its present Ito Valley, Galen Clark started road length. In 1937 general repair work, Wilding operations soon after setincluding addition of stone to the Illin.i on the South Fork of the Merced, foundations of the bridge, was corn- • low years after the original displeted by the Civilian Conservation ory of the Yosemite. Pushing Corps. if from Clark's Station, he sueIt is hoped that a means will be led in completing some three found of saving this fine, old strucIles of road before the financial lure, that present day escapists from -Ott till of this venture led to his bankhigh-speed travel may pause and liilI F y and the eventual sale of his perhaps appreciate—the slower and property to Henry Washburn. But less comfortable travel of earlier Mitt early road construction defindays. :;I
YC~t~1;Ml'I'L N11'I'l lltf; N(
BRYANT LEAVES YOSEMITE FOR BLACK HILLS AREAS
By Donald E. McHenry, Chief Park Naturalist After almost five years as natural ist and three summers as a ranger naturalist in Yosemite National Park Wayne W. Bryant, Assistant Parl Naturalist, has accepted an appoint meat as naturalist-in-charge in thE Black Hills Areas of South Dakota Wayne, whose father, Dr. Harolc Bryant, was one of the original foun ders of the naturalist services for thE National Park Service, will be re sponsible for the interpretive sere ices for Wind Cave National Park Badlands and Jewel Cave Nationa Monuments, Mount Rushmore Na tonal Memorial in South Dakota and Devils Tower National Monu rnent in Wyoming. He will dravv upon his knowledge and experience in naturalist work to establish rnu seums and wayside exhibits, set ut self-guiding trails, schedule con ducted walks, and prepare interpre. tive literature. Born in Berkeley, California, it December of 1922, Wayne moved a an early age to Washington, D. C. when his father became Assistant Director of the National Park Service in charge of interpretation. Aftei completing early schooling there, he returned west to study at Arizono State College from 1940 to 1943. With World War II, he entered the U. S. Navy, receiving his training at Arizona State, Notre Dame, and Harvard. He subsequently saw active duty in the waters around Japan and the Philippines area on the USS Mount Ol)m/)us (GC-8). He was released with the rank of lieutenant (i.g.) Following his release to civilian life, Wayne returned to school, receiving his B. A. degree in biology from Stanford University in 1948 and his Master of Science in zoology at Utah State College in 1950. Wayne Bryant has never stray far from his first love, the Natio: Park Service. Although school c occasional employment of van: kinds occupied his interests dun winters, summertime found him some national park. During the su mer of 1942, he served as season ranger in Zion National Park and ranger-naturalist in the same pc. in 1946 and 1947. During the su mers of. 1948 to 1950 he was rang naturalist in Yosemite National Pa; He received his first permanent c pointm.ent here in April 1951 as it for park naturalist. He was promo' to assistant park naturalist in At 1955. During the 1954-55 winter seas( Wayne was selected as one of Region Four Trainees in the 6th I partmental Management Traini; Program of the Department of ti Interior, being one of four from i
F el l Park Service and of thirty Bryant, a fine public speaker and l)opartnient of the Interior. He leader of campfii songs and nature to his Black Hills assignment walks, served with credit on the knowledge of museum pracfaculty of the Yosemite Field School. nd techniques, having studied He is a good photographer. There Punk Naturalist Louis Schellwill doubtlessly be much opportunity 1t (arcrnd Canyon, under Edwin for Wayne to exercise his skill in, Curator of Geology at the square dancing in the Black Hills m of Northern Arizona, plus country. It goes without saying that ornble experience gained in he will be greatly missed by the lto and Washington, D.C. Yosemite organization.
FEAST ON THE GRAPEVINE
By John T. Mullady, Park Ranger p heavy-antlered buck boundsearched through the mist of low through the cold darkness of lying clouds; now it found a disnctrly winter morning. The iceplaced rock to be avoided; now a 11Alud brush of Turner Ridge road sign offering advice or inI little resistance to his masformation. dm : as he crashed headlong The buck, fearful and excited, uI1 it. Nor did it slow the yelphesitated on the brink of the bank. [Ivry-coated coyotes running in Two leaps more and he would be Iiursuit, their bellies fairly down and across the main trail. But nrinct the frosty cover of bear the dazzling confusion of the blindOr. A short distance more and ing lights coming toward him! The,dour would reach the clearings clanking racket of steel against South Fork of the Merced macadam! The terrible yapping of the open flats would afford the closing coyotes! What to do! for a full grown buck to attain Down the bank! Hooves met icy 4poodod flight or, if necessary, hardness of the road and slid. p." to swing his sharp-pointed Chains of steel scraped and re Enid the room to maneuver dragged across the same icy hardr(tiier-sharp hooves in frantic ness in a frantic effort to bring the against the inevitable atcar to a halt. But in spite of the panicky, last minute swerve of e ear rolled cautiously up the wheels and hooves; in spite of the ~pnwino Grade of the Wawona digging of the steel, death came, Tire chains and the snaking suddenly on the Grapevine at that YMrr of the icy roadbed made early rnorni.ng hour. The car reundesirable even though Yogretfully resumed its cold journey. Ito Valley and its welcome lodgThe coyotes impatiently waited on IIIIII lay 25 wintery miles ahead. the brim of the cut until the red beams of the headlights lights and the noise faded away up
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I I, IN IN 111111. 1N'J1LO
the hill. Now to the feast! Coyotes, big and little, tore at the warm hide, exposing the firm flesh. Bellies soon became gorged. An animal would waddle away from the bloody form lying on the road only to be replaced at the carcass by another tawny form loping in from the sur rounding wilderness. The telegraph of the wilds was far-reaching and response to its message was rapid. The word got around. Before the sun bathed the pines of the hills the flesh of the full-bodied buck had disappeared before the appetites of many snarling, snapping coyotes. By the time the full morning had dawned there was little left to be torn from the remaining hide and bones. A few shreds of flesh might have been gained from the bare skeleton but then only by judicious gnawing. And what satisfaction would a few shreds yield to full bellies. Slowly and with greedy reluctance the dog-like animals wandered off, alone or with families, to seek a sunny granite bench for a long day of contented leisure. This is the story of a midnight feast as Ralph Jessen (seasonal ranger and old-timer) and I pieced it together on that Sunday morning in December. Perhaps it is not an unusual story, for many deer are killed --- others critically injured — by automobiles. Most often, as in this case, their flesh goes to sati: log he hunger of coyotes cr other carnivores. It is perhaps i usual in that coyotes presumai do not attack full grown, heapl deer in preference to individuals ready weakened by disease or jury. Even a concentrated attack I several animals would not ass' a meal of venison if the deer w in physical condition to retreat fight. Jessen and I feel, however, tl the story is unusual and imports with respect to the number of e otes which were present at the past. The evidence was there the road. We examined it careful We think our deductions are c rect. The carcass of the buck as it -v found, was stripped of practical all flesh. Only the head (with t' exception of the fleshy tip of -1 nose) was intact. The symmetric four point antlers were massiv possessing a maximum spread 18 inches. The limp hide had n been torn haphazardly from tl body but had been ripped ape
generally from the belly sid The entire skeleton was intact, t} bones still articulated. All of the e1 trails were gone. The flesh of tI: neck had been removed by asset through the body cavity; the cape the hide had not been torn. From the size of the antlers, t1 head, and the hooves as well c from the general appearance of tl: hide, Jessen and I concluded the l this buck must have weighed r less than 180 pounds. This agree with known weights of simile bucks killed along adjacent par boundaries. The hide was in fine sleek condition indicating a health individual. The time of the accident we placed at not more than 6 hour (and probably much less) prior t
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YUSt:MI I L. Nt1 l lllil; N( ) ll : :; 3!i discovery of the carcass at 8 A. This estimate was based on ones of the blood, suppleness tho hide in spite of the freezing Ihnr (17 degrees F at South Enca) and through questioning I travelers who used the road I night. At the time of discovery the enremains which, incidentally, found in the middle of the road, not exceed 50 pounds. There was evidence that any quantity of hod been carried from the •; the fact that the skeleton was loth would indicate that this not been done. If our estimates correct (and they certainly canbu :ntbstantially wrong), about pounds of meat was devoured tlu~ apot within a maximum time Ix hours. Probably the meal took It let;s time. Two references were found in the true regarding food capacity of Iran. J. Frank Dobie, on page 160 TN Voice of the Coyote (Boston, 9), ' lives the report of a trapper tflbK►examined the stomach con- *Ma of a female coyote which had WI killed a lamb. He reported that ll contained " five or six pounds of t meat. " Joseph Dixon, noted hIs meticulous wildlife observa- •, reported in the Journal of Malrrxy (6:1, p. 41) : "I have... been to determine how much food Mutes a square meal for each Ion in the wild For the coyIt was 791 grams (1.74 pounds) the equivalent of two ground rrr~ L,. Grinnell, Dixon and Lins0 In The Fur Bearing Mammals of /mina (Berkeley, 1937) states that mach records show that from 5 8 pelmets of meat is a large meal u lull-grown mountain lion. o medical authority has told that he would not expect an aniIho size of a large dog or coyThe morning after. ote to be able to consume more than 1 10 of his weight in fresh meat at a single meal. A state trapper, working on lands adjacent to the park, felt this figure to be sound. On this basis we could reason that a mature mountain coyote with an average winter weight of about 40 pounds (Grinnell, Dixon and Linsdale, op. cit.) would not be able to devour more than 3 1/2 to 4 pounds of meat during the course of an uninterrupted meal. This perhaps could be stretched to 5 pounds if he were really hungry. Hungry! At least some of these coyotes had fed on other venison within the previous afternoon and evening for no less than 10 large piles of droppings were found on the road along the road shoulders at the scene. Deer hair was much in evidence in all of the scats. It is unlikely that this represented food digested at that meal. Those are the facts. How many coyotes fed on this mule deer? Who knows? It may seem a fantastic number but evidence indicated that no less than 25 must have gathered to participate in that grisly feast on the Wawona Road that cold December morning.