CHAPTER II.

THE YOSEMITE VALLEY.

A new Land of Goshen--A Jehu indeed--The Drive to Clarke's--A

Mountain Hostelry--Grizzlies--Fascination Point--The

Merced--Yosemite Fall--A Salute--Mountain Airs--The Mirror

Lake--"See that Rattle?"--A Philosophic Barber.

_June 2nd._--It is astonishing how soon one gets accustomed to the

rattle and rumble of the rail, and sleeps all the night through after

a time, waking up only when a train stops at a station, just as a

miller is roused by the cessation of the clock of the mill-wheel. We

keep good hours, and so at 4.30 this morning I was looking out of the

window at a sea of blue mountain ridges upon the west, which looked

like the waves of the ocean, so varied in the serrated edges was the

line of stony waves which seemed as if they were about to sweep down

over the great stretch of prairie. We were passing through a new land

of Goshen, at least that was the name which I detected on the station

board, indicating a junction with another line, and early as was the

hour the door of the hospitable restaurant was open, and gentlemen

in front were to be seen drawing their hands across their lips as if

they had been taking a refresher in the early morning. Close at hand

the country was perfectly flat, covered with glorious crops nearly

ripe for the sickle, and indeed cut and stacked in some places. Water

appeared abundant; a river flowing west was visible at intervals, its

course marked by a line of trees. Large black cranes stalked about in

the meadow-like fields, and hares sat up on end to take a look at the

train. The paucity of human beings, except at the rare stations, was

remarkable; only when I say "rare," perhaps I am scarcely justified,

as there were little wooden huts at intervals perhaps of ten or twelve

miles, where a saloon announced itself, and a possible ticket-office.

On the east of the plain through which the line runs, the peaks of

the Sierra Nevada were visible, but the journey was rather monotonous

all the same, and we were glad when our train halted at Madera, about

ninety miles from Goshen, where we were to get out and start on our

expedition to the Yosemite Valley. Especial arrangements had been

made for our conveyance, but I almost doubt now whether it would not

have been better for us to have taken the ordinary carriage which

leaves Madera every day, except Monday, for the Yosemite Valley, at

7.45, arriving at Clarke's or Bruce's in somewhat less than twelve

hours, so as to bring daylight with it to the halting-place; a very

desirable thing, as we soon found out. It was 8 o'clock before our

party started from Madera, in two Kendal carriages with four horses

each. In one was the Duke, Lady Green, Mr. Stephen, and myself, with

Crockett on the box; in another were Sir Henry Green, Mr. Wright, Major

Anderson, and Mr. Jerome. Our driver was a man with the impossible

name of MacLenathan, a resolute, dry, taciturn man, with a good face,

seamed with the exposure to sun and rain of many years on the box.

But he told us he had deserted it lately, and had taken to the work

of livery stable keeper, only coming out on this occasion as driver to

do honour to the Duke. As it turned out, it was well his right and his

left hand had not lost their cunning. The driver of the other carriage

was a noted character, rejoicing in the name of "Buffalo Bill," and

later on we had reason to feel very thankful to him also for the

possession of great pluck and nerve. For some ten or twelve miles the

route, which consists of mere wheel tracks over the prairie, runs over

moderately undulating land. On the right there is a shoot or _flume_

for carrying down timber from the upper part of the mountain ridge

fifty miles away. The dust was troublesome, and the rapid motion of

the four horses scarcely saved us from the roasting sun. The scenery

was not interesting; indeed, the great object of attraction was the

little Californian quail with his pretty crest, running across through

the grass or jumping up upon a stump to have a look at the travellers.

Stage stables were far apart, but the speed was fair, and it was

astonishing to see the excellent condition in which the horses were

at the end of their long canter, and what capital steeds were taken

out of the stalls, in which they were feeding on barley-straw, to

be put into the traces. I think the average length of the stages was

about twelve miles. We lost about an hour at a little mining village

where we halted for dinner, a place called Coarse Gold, as well as

I recollect, consisting of the usual buildings, a few shanties, the

store, the hotel, far better than might have been expected, and a sort

of wigwam or one-storeyed house, in front of which were assembled a

number of "Digger Indians," degraded specimens of a degraded tribe.

They sat looking at the new arrivals in the most apathetic manner,

just as they might regard so many flies. The men were dressed in a

compromise of old Indian attire, leather leggings and deerskin jackets,

with European clothing, caps, bad hats and trousers, and old boots,

the women swathed ungracefully in what seemed to be pieces of blanket,

their legs encased in folds of dirty cotton. One of these Diggers was

very slightly dressed, and as it is intensely cold in the winter, we

asked him whether he did not feel the effect of the frost and snow.

He knew a little English, and made the most of it. "When your body is

covered you do not feel the cold," he said; "But your face is always

uncovered, and yet you do not feel the cold there. An Indian's body is

all face." And that was all the explanation he would vouchsafe to us.

Somehow or another, what with delays at the stations, possibly caused

by our being out of the regular running, and being an interpolation on

the ordinary course of travel, and possibly owing to our reduced speed,

for the carriages with four horses did not, it seems, go as fast as

the public conveyance with six, it was getting dark as we approached

the line of wooded hills, in a valley in which, many miles away, lay

our halting-place for the night. The result of our delay in starting,

concerning which the driver had been severe from time to time, was

startlingly manifest as the coaches mounted the steep ascents of one of

the most tortuous roads in the world. The spurs of the hills come down

very sharply to the valley, and the road is carried round by a series

of very severe gradients following the contour of the mountain-chain,

so that at one time there is a deep gorge on your left, and then, as

the road leaves that spur with the valley on that side and crosses to

another spur, there is a great descent on the right, so that you are

continually passing along by a series of precipices, to which, in our

case, the fast gathering gloom imparted additional horror. Through the

sighing of the wind in the trees aloft came the roar of the torrents

down below. The drivers went along at a good steady canter, and from

time to time, as we came round a sharp curve, I dare say the thought

was in every one's mind, what would happen if one of the leaders

fell, or if the driver slipped his hand in gathering up the reins to

go round the corner. The scenery became more wild and formidable, so

to speak, at every fresh turn. The colossal trees, which challenged

admiration in the daytime, closed up in greater volume, darkening the

narrow road completely, so that in an hour after entering upon the

mountain-range it became as black as pitch. The lamps of Buffalo Bill

in the leading carriage were some guide to our driver. He had none,

and it was with anxiety, renewed every ten minutes or so, that we saw

the lights in front describe a graceful curve, which showed that they

were passing by one of the dips or cuts of the road. It needed skill

and judgment for MacLenathan to conduct the carriage, because if he

drove too close to that in front of us, the clouds of dust obscured

the view, and if he dropped too far behind he lost the benefit of the

lights. By enormous trunks of trees, by piles of timber, through deep

cuttings in the rock, plashing over watercourses, descending swiftly

into river-beds, and splashing through the fords over boulders, then

climbing up steep hillsides, on and on, it seemed as though the night

would never come to an end, and we inwardly, and audibly too, expressed

our regret that we had not started a little earlier; but still there

was an almost pleasurable excitement in holding on as we swept round

one of these terrible gorges, and tried to look down into the gulf

beneath. That last stage seemed interminable, but towards 9 o'clock at

night the driver of the coach in front announced that we were getting

"near at last"; and lucky it was, for his lights were giving out. "It

is just as well that they did not," said our driver, "because it would

be bad for you." "Why?" "Well," he said, "you would just have to get

out and walk! I would not undertake to drive any one in the dark along

such a road as this." Presently we heard the noise of rushing water,

and gained the bank of a stream flowing with swiftness over a shingle

bed. This we crossed, and in half an hour more, through the dark belt

of trees in front, lights were discerned, and, crossing another stream

and a bridge, our wearied horses were pulled up in front of the hotel,

a large wooden building, on the steps of which were the landlord and

his staff, and most of the inmates turned out to greet and inspect

the travellers who had been long expected. "It is a bad country to go

driving about in the dark," said Mr. Bruce, the landlord, a sentiment

in which we thoroughly agreed. There was a supper in the common

room, to which, albeit the fare was primitive enough, we did ample

justice. Travellers have complained of the charges along the road, but,

considering the distance which all articles have to be carried to the

Valley, the heavy duties, and the shortness of the season, I do not

think that any one with experience of Swiss inns would complain much;

and if the traveller desires to drink claret, he must not be astonished

if he pays eight or nine shillings a bottle for it. The ordinary fare,

at hotel prices, is quite good enough for hungry people, and eggs,

milk, and bread are abundant, and not dear. The bedrooms, sufficiently

simple in all their appointments, are good enough to be welcome to

tired people, for there is a fair bed to lie upon, and the sheets, as

far as our experience went, were clean and fresh. Nor were the insect

horrors, of which we may have some knowledge in parts of Europe, to be

dreaded, not even mosquitoes at this time of year.

Soon after dawn a thunderstorm broke over the valley, hail and torrents

of rain, and the landlord congratulated us upon the cooling effect

it would have on the air, and on the absence of dust, which is rather

troublesome at times. It was necessary to make an early start in the

morning, for it is a long journey to the Yosemite. For some years past

the Valley has become a kind of American Chamouni, and if Americans

swarm over Europe in search of the sublime and beautiful, they cannot

be accused of neglecting altogether their own country. The first thing

I saw, on walking out on the verandah of the hotel, was the stage-coach

and six horses, with eight ladies and nine gentlemen, loading up for

the Valley. They had arrived late the night before, a little in advance

of us, and yet the ladies, bravely attired for the road, were all in

their place in the _char à bancs_ long before 7. Travellers frequently

stay at Bruce's, and our host promises good sport to any one who will

make it his headquarters; but I cannot speak with any confidence on

that point myself; still I should think it a very pleasant quarter for

a man who had nothing else to do, and who had an aptitude for climbing,

to go about looking out big game. We heard talk of pheasants, but

saw none: the bird which is called by that name not being entitled

to it, according to ornithologists. In front of the hotel was laid

out the skin of a cinnamon bear, which had been shot by an Austrian

gentleman--"Count Fritz Thumb," the landlord called him--a few days

previously, and which was to be sent after him as a trophy of his

skill. "But," says Boniface, "it was not he shot him at all; it was 'is

old Injun hunter." Grizzlies, he said, were rare, but they were to be

found if you went up high enough, and as he spoke he pointed up to the

mountains towering away in the distance in grand Alpine proportions.

Deer were common enough, and there were some tame specimens of the

ordinary black deer running about in the enclosure. We had an early

start, but not quite so early as the Americans; and it was wonderful

how well our four hardy horses did the first stage, six and twenty

miles, including some very sharp ascents from the Hotel.

From time to time we got out and walked up the sharp bits, diverging

to the right or left to gather the lovely flowers which grew on

the roadside, or halting to admire the giant trees which clothed

the mountain ridges. Pitiable ignorance! not to know the names of

the plants or shrubs or wonderful bunches of blossoms, among which

fluttered the most magnificently coloured butterflies. Woodpeckers

of many different species uttered their quaint notes in jerky flight

from tree to tree, or peered at the travellers from the shelter of

the branches. Firs, pines, and spruces of enormous size, and trees

to me unknown, formed a dense forest on each side of the road; but

now and then we caught glimpses of the stupendous ranges of the alps

beyond. It was lamentable to see the waste and wreck wrought in this

wondrous wealth of timber--reckless, wicked waste. Charred trunks

stood with leafless arms withered and black, or lay prone among the

ferns in myriads. This was, we were told, the work of shepherds, who

think nothing of setting fire to one of the finest trees in the world

to warm themselves for an hour, and are delighted with a conflagration

which may lay a hillside in ashes. And the Indians too are held to

have their share in the destruction. There was enough of timber wasted

and destroyed mile after mile to build a city. The nemesis must come;

already the alarm has been sounded, and the State authorities here and

elsewhere are trying to prevent the mischief. I have often had occasion

to regret my ignorance of botany _inter alia_; but never did I feel it

more than when I was walking up the road, on each side of which was a

carpet of flowers, a maze of shrubs and plants--dense brushwood--to not

one of which could I give a name. We arrived at the Halfway House at

12.35 as much pleased as the horses which brought us there so well at

the respite, for it was an awful "pull up," and the coachman did his

work at high pressure. In the course of our pilgrimage we had found a

very pleasant _divertissement_. The Major, Mr. White, and Mr. Jerome

had excellent voices, and from time to time they burst into song,

giving with great effect the quaint negro melodies, which are now made

familiar to us in London, from a very large _répertoire_; and so the

afternoon passed in quiet enjoyment as we climbed the hills on foot or

in the carriages--snatches of talk, exclamations of wonder and delight,

and outbursts of the 'Golden Slipper,' 'O! that 'Possum,' 'The Ark,'

'John Brown,' 'Tramp, Tramp,' and other choruses.

It was near 4 o'clock when the driver, who had been silent for some

time, looking round at us occasionally as one who would say, "Wait a

little till I surprise you," suddenly pulling up, said, "Now, here you

are. This is Fascination Point! Won't you get down a bit?" And, lo!

there indeed lay before us a scene of indescribable grandeur. I know

nothing like the effect produced by Yosemite Valley when seen for the

first time from this point. It has a characteristic which no other

similar view I am acquainted with possesses. You take in at one glance

stupendous mountain-ranges, all but perpendicular, beyond which you see

the snowy crests of the great Sierra, the profound valley between them,

a long vista of extraordinary magnificence, of cascades and precipitous

waterfalls, and far down below a silvery river rushing through a

forest composed of the noblest trees in the world, with patches of

emerald-green sward and bright meadows.

I see that by a slip of the pen I have miscalled the place from which

we got our first view of the wondrous scene. But I have a right to

change the name for my own use. What the driver said was "Inspiration

Point." I prefer my mistake, for the view inspires you with no feeling

save that of wonder and delight. These sublime scenes appear to be

beyond the reach of poetry. Niagara and the Yosemite have not yet

found a laureate. The peculiar and unique feature of the valley seems

to me to be the height and boldness of the cliffs which spring out

from the mountain-sides like sentinels to watch and ward over the

secrets of the gorge; next to that is the number and height of the

waterfalls; but it is only by degrees and by comparison that the mind

takes in the fact that the cliffs are not hundreds, but thousands

of feet high--that these bright, flashing, fleecy cataracts fall for

thousands of feet--that the rent which has been torn in the heart of

the mountains, till it is closed by the awful granite portals beyond

which no mortal may pass, extends for miles. I thought as I gazed

that it were pity to descend, lest a nearer view might destroy the

effect of that _coup d'oeil_; but the driver had regulated the period

for rapture. He whipped us up to our places by word of mouth, and

the carriages renewed their course, now striking by bold zigzags down

into the valley for our destination, which was still six miles away. I

shall not attempt to describe my own feelings, far less can I pretend

to tell what others, probably far more susceptible of the beauty and

grandeur of what we beheld than I am, may have felt at the succession

of the awe-inspiring revelations of the tremendous grandeur of the

Valley which came upon us. What is the use of rolling off a catalogue

of names and figures?--even the brush of the painter, charged with

the truest colours and guided by the finest hand and eye, could never

do justice--that is, could never give a just idea of these cliffs and

waterfalls. "El Capitan! Oh, that's the name, is it? Three thousand

three hundred feet high!" And then you try to take in what that means.

"And it's 3500 feet down to the Valley? Dear me!" "And that is the

Cathedral Rock? And those two peaks are the Spires? I don't exactly see

the resemblance; do you?"

There was a sort of wail of delight from us all as we came on the

"Bridal Veil Fall"; and I do not think any one cared to know that it

was just 60 short of 1000 feet high! Surely one of the most graceful,

lovely _chutes d'eau_ on earth, lost though it be from view behind the

rocks at the close of its feathery flight! But there was no stopping to

look at anything; relentless Fate drove us down and on, till the wheels

rolled more evenly, and at last we came to the bed of the valley--some

1800 yards broad, opening out here and there yet wider--and we

rejoiced in the sight of the bright clear water of the Merced, child

of innumerable icy mothers, flashing, sparkling, dashing and brawling,

like a myriad Lodores, between her banks decked with flowers and

covered with forest trees.

Suddenly there dashed out of a glade two cavaliers, and made full tilt

at the leading carriage. "To arms!" Not a bit of it! Nor banditti

or Injuns--of whom we had met one or two riding sullenly along to

the hunting-grounds--no, only two hotel touts armed with cards of

self-commendation, and not apparently in much rivalry, for when told

that we had engaged our hotel, they galloped off to waylay other

travellers, of whose coming they were apprized by our driver. Our

hotel, I may say by the way, gave us full contentment. The site was

admirable, commanding a full and near view of _the_ Fall of Falls--the

Yosemite--which had so fascinated our eyes that we could scarce divert

them to any other object--not "Widow's Tears," or "Virgin's Tears,"

nor the "Three Brothers," not anything but the Yosemite! And so, when

our rooms were pointed out, we made off to the spot where the fine

cloudlike vapour rising above the tree-tops indicated the basin into

which the waters sought rest after their troubled leap.

Our way lay through the usual gathering of stores, hotels, livery

stables for the horses and ponies needed for the excursions, and

curiosity dealers' shops, to the village street, as it may be termed,

shadowed by fine trees, under which reposed some Indians--one of whom,

an Amazon in yellow toga, went riding full gallop past us, her hair

falling in a black mat on her shoulders, sitting low, in Melton style,

regardless of poultry, children, and boulders, and vanishing in a cloud

of dust under the trees. Then we turned to the left and crossed the

river by a rustic bridge; and as I looked down into the dancing waters

certain shadow-like objects flew up against the current. "Trout?"

asked I. "Yes, they're trout. They take 'em--when they dew--five

pounds weight. The Injuns catch 'em. We don't understand it as well."

A short walk, with eyes ever up-turned, and we come out to a moraine,

and, clambering up over a mass of trunks of trees and decaying timber,

_the_ Falls were before us--I cannot write more--no adjective will do.

"Two thousand six hundred and thirty-four feet, mind!" says the voice.

"I don't care," thought we, "it's the most beautiful and wonderful

water-jump ever seen by human eye." "It only remains," as they say, to

state that there is first, falling over a sheet of granite straight as

a wall, a considerable river, which in the plunge comes down at once

1600 feet. There, in a basin of rock, it collects its scattered forces,

under cover of eternal spray and cloud, and then takes another header

of 434 feet to a barrier of granite, against which it rages for a mad

moment, till it swells over and escapes from control by another spring

of 600 feet sheer down--and now it is free, and rushes past at our

feet, a joyous flashing stream.

We returned through the meadows from the Falls, and as I was walking

in advance of the party a snake wriggled across the path, which I

struck at instinctively with my stick, and was lucky enough to kill

at the first blow. I exhibited the carcass, or whatever a snake's

dead body may be, in triumph to my companions. Further on our way we

fell in with an old Frenchman who was carrying a basket of fruit from

his little garden to the inn. With all the courtesy of his country,

he offered to Lady Green the choicest in his little _corbeille_. He

came from Lorraine very long ago to prospect in the States, almost the

earliest of the pioneers, but he was still strong and active, and he

pointed with great satisfaction up to a white flag planted on a dizzy

height above, which he said he had placed with his own hands. The chief

livery stable keeper is a German named Stegman. The first ascent of the

Dome was made by a young Scotchman named Anderson, from Montrose; so

with Indians, Americans, Mexicans, Europeans, there is a very liberal

representation of the nations of the world, in the season, in the

valley. Mr. Hutchinson, the Conservator of the Valley--one with all

the enthusiasm of the American character in everything pertaining to

the country, aggravated in this instance by an intense admiration for

the valley over which he is appointed to watch--joined us at dinner in

the little inn. Full of information, bubbling over with anecdote and

illustration, and replete with all kinds of knowledge concentrated upon

the one object--the Valley--the Valley--and nothing but the Valley.

He knows its history since the time it was first discovered, and its

natural history and geological formation, and all about the Indians who

lived there and their traditions. It so happened that the Commissioners

of the State of California, who are bound to visit the public

domains, were also at the hotel, and so we had quite an unofficial and

ceremonious meeting; and presently, as we stood in front of the hotel

gazing up on the peaks, lighted up by the stars, and listening to the

thunder of the waterfall, a startling report burst out on the night,

and in another instant the echoes repeated from rock to rock were

crashing through the Valley with the roar of heaven's artillery. It

was the first gun of a salute ordered by the Commissioners to be fired

in honour of the Duke's arrival. The effect was very fine, but I doubt

whether I did not feel full of resentment at the outburst, very much as

the owls and night-hawks might have been expected to feel, if one could

judge from their cries. However, even a salute and echoes must come to

an end, and as we were to get up early to start for the Mirror Lake, we

turned in to bed at an early hour; not, however, to sleep, because the

indefatigable and numerous company in the public room, off which were

our bedrooms, were in high spirits, and the song and the dance, to the

accompaniment of an invalid piano, for some time asserted their sway.

Mr. Hutchinson had the Duke out early, because it is one of the

obligations to see the sun rise, reflected in the Mirror Lake--if

you can. There is no fear of cloud or rain. In the Mirror Lake is

reflected--or was as we saw it--the precipice at the other side of the

Valley, the bulk of Mount Watkins (so called from a photographer who

has been daring and successful in his renderings of the Yosemite), and

all the surrounding scenery. Once a friend and I saw a cow on its back

in the air, by the shore of a Highland lake. The surface was smooth as

that of the Mirror before us now. It was flapping its tail from side to

side, and its forelegs were up in the sky. We could not make it out at

first. There was, in fact, a cow standing near the water of the loch;

and what we saw was a reflection of the animal, actually stronger and

better defined than the object itself. So it was with the reflections

in the Mirror Lake; but when the sun rose over the cliff and we looked

at the water, the glare was too dazzling. "It was," as Mr. Wright

remarked, "like the electric light." There were curious optical effects

produced, some being troubled with purple, others with green or yellow

in their eyes, after a vain attempt to look at the reflection, but that

did not last long.

We returned to breakfast to make an early start for Union and Glacier

Points on ponies. Among the company at the hotel, introduced by Mr.

Hutchinson, there was a young lady who was well acquainted with the

Valley, and who proved to be a very agreeable companion in our mountain

ride; but it was not long ere she was candid enough to let it be known

that she did not visit the Yosemite out of love of the picturesque and

beautiful, but that she was interested in the sale of photographs of

the Valley, and was, in fact, a very persuasive and efficient agent of

a firm in San Francisco, who had thus established an outlying picket of

great activity and vigilance; and I am sure we all hope she may always

be as successful with the visitors as she was with us. Of what we saw

from the Glacier Point I must leave others to write or speak. It is

reached by a zigzag on the mountain-side--a peculium of the maker, and

all the "trails," as they are called, in the valley are the property

of individuals or firms who are paid by tariff, and we heard "Eleven

gone up before--Duke Sutherland, Lady Green, Sir Green, Mr. Wright, Mr.

Russell, Mr. Jerome coming! Sixteen coming up behind!" On the plateau

behind the cliffs, from which you look down on the Valley and at the

snowfields on the mountain ranges opposite, there is a log house and

shanty, and there we had a mountain meal ere we began the descent.

Nothing in the way of riding is more disagreeable than going down

a very sharp mountain-side on a pony not, for all you know, very

sure-footed, and so instead of riding, I resolved to walk, now and

then taking a short cut, to the great discomfiture of feet and boots,

although it is three thousand feet to the bottom, and make the best

of my way and the most of the road, which is very fair, down the zig

zags. I reached the plain thoroughly hot and tired, and bathed in

perspiration, in fifty-seven minutes. The horsekeeper, who came down

with the rest of the party, seemed to have been affected by the rarity

of the atmosphere or something else up at the mountain hostelry, for

he insisted on it that I had ridden down, and demanded his horse.

"What the thunder, Russell, have you done with my horse?" he asked

again and again. Satisfied for the time by my assurances that I had

not ridden at all, he went off, and then, thinking over the matter,

came back again to repeat his question, till I told him I would not

answer it any more. He was an amusing fellow in his way, and affable.

He called the Duke "Sutherland," now and then putting Mr. before it.

As he was watering his horses, he said: "Here, Mister Sutherland, lay

hold of the bucket, will you, whilst I take a turn at this one." And

the Duke did so with alacrity. It was a day of incessant activity. No

sooner had the mountain party come down than they were off again to

drive through the Valley. The rest of our party had already executed

masterly investigations at the foot of all the waterfalls; admired

the Bridal Veil and the Widow's Tear, as one cascade is satirically

termed, "because," says the guide, "it dries up in six months;" had

driven and ridden everywhere and seen everything, and we had to do the

same; but it would need a week of conscientious work to exploit the

Valley thoroughly. At half-past 7, the dinner hour, the little inn was

swarming with people; the stage had arrived with fresh contingents.

Every place was full, and what with the clatter of knives and forks,

the clamour of waiters, the tumult of voices laughing and talking,

it was scarcely possible to conceive that a few short years ago this

valley was in the exclusive possession of the Indian and the wild

beast. There is now, however, a great conflict of interests, and Mammon

is holding his revels in the Valley. The State has voted a certain

sum of money, twenty-five thousand dollars, I think, to buy up the

interests of the trail-makers; that is, those who struck out and made

paths to the various objects of attraction; but no success has yet been

attained in the negotiations, and, indeed, I should think it a very

bad investment for most of them to accept their share of such a sum.

Macaulay, for example, who made the path up to the point from which

we descended to-day, must make many hundreds of dollars in the height

of the season, as he charges so much a visitor, and, besides, has a

restaurant where they take their meals at the top.

Next day (June 5th) we left the Yosemite with the satisfactory

assurance that we had made the most of our time, though we could not

believe we had done it justice. There were some small "nuages" on the

face of our "Mirror Lake," caused by changes in the mode of conveyance;

but we found six horses and one of the coaches of the country were

better than four horses and two carriages of less capacity. Yosemite,

I may tell my readers, means "Grizzly Bear" (it may be "Great Grizzly

Bear"); but we only heard of one having been thereabouts for a long

time, and I believe it was thoroughly tamed. After a glorious day in

the woods, clambering up the steep from the Valley, and then on by the

road--the only one--to Clarke's, halted there for the night, when we

returned from a ceremonious visit to the "Big Trees." We had a most

delightful ride from Bruce's, and a hard canter back through the woods

on capital ponies, full of life and action, and very sure-footed, but

rather inclined to have their own way, which was not always that of

the rider. We turned into bed at Bruce's, quite delighted with our

expedition, and rather anxious to see the road we had traversed in the

dark by the garish light of day. Every traveller's tale, and every

guide-book of recent date relating to this part of the world, has a

full account of the dimensions, number, appearance, and condition of

these wonders of the world. They are either prostrate, mutilated, or

decaying; not one has survived the stormy life he must have led for

some 3000 years--a few hundreds more or less do not signify. Those

which remain upright are scarred by fire and lightning, and drop their

monster arms, hung with ragged foliage and sheets of bright moss,

mournfully over the ground where their trunks will repose in time to

come. I cannot conceive any object of the kind so magnificent as one

of those Washingtonias in the full vigour of mature treehood; but we

could only fancy what it must have been like by measuring the stems,

for there was not anywhere in the forest a tree to be seen which had

not suffered. The best way to visit the scene--for it may well be

called so--is to strike out from the road on the way to the Yosemite

before the halt at Bruce's; but the hotel-keepers and stage-drivers

will persuade the stranger, if they can, to defer the excursion till

his return from the Valley, so as to make a half-day more out of him.

_June 6th._--All up at 5 o'clock, and off soon after 6 A.M. The first

stage, eleven miles, we did in two hours and ten minutes--a very

pretty road; the second stage, eight miles, in forty-four minutes. The

ravages made by fires are most deplorable. We had passed through this

great forest track in the dark, but now seen in the morning light, the

trunks of magnificent trees rotting on the ground, or standing upright

with lifeless arms, consumed at the base, were visible everywhere.

It is difficult to find out the exact truth about the cause of these

fires. Some few people said "it was the Indians," but the weight of

testimony attributes them to the shepherds, who for the most trifling

purposes kindle a great fire. In some of the large trees they have

hollowed out regular chambers, and of course the tree dies. Such waste

of timber! For mile after mile we passed scenes of desolation which

ere long those who allowed them will have cause to regret. From time

to time we encountered on the road trains of waggons drawn by teams of

handsome mules with bells, and had occasion to admire the economy of

labour exhibited in the management, by which the driver is enabled to

work a powerful break with one hand whilst he drives with the other.

The next stage, of fourteen miles, was over an exceedingly bad road;

but the horses were good, and we rattled along at a capital speed down

towards the plain. Once the quick-eyed driver, pulling up suddenly,

said, "See that rattle?" leaped down and made towards the bush; and

as we followed him, sure enough we heard distinctly the noise of the

snake, which he had intercepted on its way to a rabbit hole. It took

refuge in a clump of bushes with gnarled roots, and coiled itself round

one of the branches; but by a course of judicious and rather nervous

poking it was driven from its vantage ground, and trying to escape was

killed by the driver with a blow of his whip, followed by a good many

unnecessary strokes from the rest of the party. It was over three feet

long, and had just been making an evening meal upon a rabbit, which it

had left where we had startled it; and it was evident from its swollen

appearance that it had been for some time engaged in the warren close

at hand.

At 10.20 we reached Fresno, which is what the Americans call "quite

a place," containing not only an hotel, a restaurant, and a store,

but a shop where photographs were exhibited. The _chef-d'oeuvre_, a

portrait of a Spanish lady 140 years of age, living at Los Angeles, did

not, however, commend itself to our taste. We halted at Coarse Gold at

11.40, and left at 12.35. Mr. Jerry Loghlan--who excused himself for

not working on the ground that "there was no use in it, as there was

nothing to be had," the mines being worked "out"--whose acquaintance we

had made on the way up, a huge, broad-shouldered _vaurien_, was still

hanging about with his specimens of quartz, gold, and rattlesnakes'

tails, and a black eye recently acquired in battle.

After a long, hot, and dusty drive, it was with no small gratification

we made out on the flat the houses of Madera, and after a time the

carriages of the special train. The air is so bright and pure that the

distances are very deceptive, and it was nearly 5 o'clock P.M. before

we reached the station, which had been visible for more than an hour

previously. It was pleasant news to hear that the little German barber

at the way-side had got baths all ready. In the rear of his shop there

was a row of apartments, each provided with a clean zinc bath, hot and

cold water to turn on at discretion, and an abundance of towels. This

in the centre of a waste seemed very creditable to the civilisation

of the people. I should like to know in what part of Europe you would

get similar comfort under similar circumstances. I am afraid there are

many parts of the British Islands where a traveller would demand such

a luxury in vain. And the barber was there to shave those who needed

it, and to give you all the news of the day if you wanted it. He was

a Prussian, and he grinned from ear to ear as, in reply to my question

whether he had served, he said: "Serve, indeed! Not I. I came away and

escaped from all that nonsense. There is not a king or an emperor or a

prince that I would fight for. Why should I?" "But," said I, "you would

have to fight for the Republic here if it were in danger; and that

would not be fighting for your fatherland." "Yes," said he, "it would,

for this is my fatherland now. But I do not want to fight for it either

if I can help it. Fighting is nonsense."

Our excellent stewards received us, if not with open arms, with smiling

faces. The carriages were trim and clean and fresh, the tables spread

out, and all kinds of dainties provided for the evening meal. We rested

quietly for the night in the siding at Madera, and got under weigh at

5 o'clock on the morning of June 7th, the train being timed so as to

reach San Francisco at 12.30.

Hesperothen; Notes from the West, Vol. 2 (of 2) A Record of a Ramble in the United States and Canada in the Spring and Summer of 1881 · 第 2 / 9 章