Lying upon the very crown of the continent, Yellowstone Lake receives no tributaries of any considerable size, its clear cold water coming solely from the snows that fall on the lofty mountain ranges that hem it in on every side. In the early part of the day, when the air is still and the bright sunshine falls on its unruffled surface, its bright green color, shading to a delicate ultramarine, commands the admiration of every beholder. Later in the day, when the mountain winds come down from their icy heights, it puts on an aspect more in accordance with the fierce wilderness around it. Its shores are paved with volcanic rocks, sometimes in masses, sometimes broken and worn into pebbles of trachyte, obsidian, chalcedony, cornelians, agates, and bits of agatized wood; and again, ground to obsidian-sand and sprinkled with crystals of California diamonds. Here and there hot-spring deposits show wave-worn bluffs of the purest white; and in sheltered bays, clay-concretions and casts from mud-puffs strew the beach with curious forms, that exploring trappers mistook for the drinking cups, stone war-clubs, and broken idols of some extinct race.. Vegetation is abundant in the lake as well as around it. Several species of plants grow far out into the deep waters, living thickly on rocks twenty feet below the surface. After a severe storm their uptorn stems strew the beach like kelp on the seashore, and the water is discolored with vegetable matter for several yards from the shore. The water swarms with trout, but there is no other kind of fish, no shells, no shell-fish,—nothing but trout. Of these, Mr. Carrington, the naturalist of the Geological Survey, reports the following interesting observations:. "Although I searched with diligence and care in the neighboring streams and waters around the Yellowstone Lake, I was unable to find any other species of fish except the salmon-trout; their numbers are almost inconceivable; average weight, one pound and a half; color, a light-grey above, passing into a light-yellow below; the fins, all except the dorsal and caudal, vary from a bright-yellow to a brilliant orange, they being a dark-grey and heavily spotted. A curious fact, and one well worthy of the closest attention of an aspiring icthyologist, is connected with these fish, namely, that among their intestines, and even interlaced in their solid flesh, are found intestinal worms, varying in size, length, and thickness, the largest measuring about six inches in length. On cutting one of these trout open, the first thing that attracts your attention is small oleaginous-looking spots clinging to the intestines, which, on being pressed between the fingers, break and change into one of these worms, small, it is true, but nevertheless perfect in its formation. From five or six up to forty or fifty will be found in a trout, varying, as I said before, in size, the larger ones being found in the solid flesh, through which they work their way, and which, in a very short while, becomes almost putrid. Their number can generally be estimated from the appearance of the fish itself; if many, the trout is extremely poor in flesh, the color changes from the healthy grey to a dull pale, it swims lazily near the top of the water, losing all its shyness and fear of man; it becomes almost savage in its appetite, biting voraciously at anything thrown in the water, and its flesh becomes soft and yielding. If, on the other hand, there are few or none, the flesh of the fish is plump and solid, and he is quick and sprightly in all his motions. I noticed that it was almost invariably the case when a trout had several scars on the outside of his body that it was free from these worms, and I therefore took it for granted that the worms finally worked their way through the body, and the flesh, on healing up, leaves the scars on the outside; the trout, in a short while, becomes plump and healthy again.