leaving the whole chain of peaks in broad light, each rocky crest
strongly red, the newly fallen snow marbling it over with a soft, deep
rose; and wherever a cañon carved itself down the rocky fronts its
course was traceable by a shadowy band of blue. The middle distance
glowed with a tint of golden yellow; the broken heights along the
cañon-brinks and edges of the cliff in front were of an intense,
spotless white. Far below us the cloud stratum melted away, revealing
the floor of the valley, whose russet and emerald and brown and red
burned in the broad evening sun. It was a marvellous piece of contrasted
lights,--the distance so pure, so soft in its rosy warmth, so cool in
the depth of its shadowy blue; the foreground strong in fiery orange, or
sparkling in absolute whiteness. I enjoyed, too, looking up at the pure,
unclouded sky, which now wore an aspect of intense serenity. For half an
hour nature seemed in entire repose; not a breath of wind stirred the
white, snow-laden shafts of the trees; not a sound of animate creature
or the most distant reverberation of waterfall reached us; no film of
vapor moved across the tranquil, sapphire sky; absolute quiet reigned
until a loud roar proceeding from Capitan turned our eyes in that
direction. From the round, dome-like cap of its summit there moved down
an avalanche, gathering volume and swiftness as it rushed to the brink,
and then, leaping out two or three hundred feet into space, fell, slowly
filtering down through the lighted air, like a silver cloud, until
within a thousand feet of the earth it floated into the shadow of the
cliff and sank to the ground as a faint blue mist. Next the Cathedral
snow poured from its lighted summit in resounding avalanches; then the
Three Brothers shot off their loads, and afar from the east a deep roar
reached us as the whole snow-cover thundered down the flank of Cloud’s
Rest.
We were warned by the hour to make all haste, and, driving the poor
brutes before us, worked our way down the trail as fast as possible. The
light, already pale, left the distant heights in still more glorious
contrast. A zone of amber sky rose behind the glowing peaks, and a cold
steel-blue plain of snow skirted their bases. Mist slowly gathered again
in the gorge below us and overspread the valley floor, shutting it out
from our view.
We ran down the zigzag trail until we came to that shelf of bare granite
immediately below the final descent into the valley. Here we paused just
above the surface of the clouds, which, swept by fitful breezes, rose
in swells, floating up and sinking again like waves of the sea. Intense
light, more glowing than ever, streamed in upon the upper half of the
cliffs, their bases sunken in the purple mist. As the cloud-waves
crawled upward in the breeze they here and there touched a red-purple
light and fell back again into the shadow.
We watched these effects with greatest interest, and, just as we were
about moving on again, a loud burst as of heavy thunder arrested us,
sounding as if the very walls were crashing in. We looked, and from the
whole brow of Capitan rushed over one huge avalanche, breaking into the
finest powder and floating down through orange light, disappearing in
the sea of purple cloud beneath us.
We soon mounted and pressed up the valley to our camp, where our anxious
friends greeted us with enthusiastic welcome and never-to-be-forgotten
beans. We fed our exhausted animals a full ration of barley, and turned
them out to shelter themselves as best they might under friendly oaks or
among young pines. In anticipation of our return the party had gotten up
a capital supper, to which we first administered justice, then
punishment, and finally annihilation. Brief starvation and a healthy
combat for life with the elements lent a most marvellous zest to the
appetite. Under the subtle influences of a free circulation and a
stinging cold night, I perceived a region of the taste which answers to
those most refined blue waves of the spectrum.
Clouds which had enfolded the heavens rolled off to the east in torn
fillets of gold. The stars came out full and flashing in the darkling
sky of evening. We left our cabins and grouped ourselves round a
loquacious camp-fire, which prattled incessantly and distilled volumes
of that mild stimulant, pyroligneous acid--an ill-savored gas which
seems to have inspired much domestic poetry, however it may have
affected the New England olfactory nerves.
The vast valley-walls, light in contrast with the deep nocturnal violet
heavens, rose far into the night, apparently holding up a roof of stars
whose brilliancy faded quite rapidly, until finally the last blinking
points of light died out, and cold, hard gray stretched from cliff to
cliff. Far up cañons and in the heart of the mountains we could hear
terrible tempest-gusts crashing among the trees, and breaking in deep,
long surges against faces of granite; coming nearer and nearer, they
swept down the gorges, with volume increasing every moment, until they
poured into the upper end of the valley and fell upon its groves with
terrible fury. The wind shrieked wild and high among the summit crags,
it tore through the pine-belts, and now and then a sudden, sharp crash
resounded through the valley as, one after another, old, infirm pines
were hurled down before its blast. The very walls seemed to tremble; the
air was thick with flying leaves and dead branches; the snow of the
summits, hard frozen by a sudden chill, was blown from the walls, and
filled the air with its keen, cutting crystals. At last the very
clouds, torn into wild flocks, were swept down into the valley, filling
it with opaque, hurrying vapors. Rocks, loosening themselves from the
plateau, came thundering down precipice-faces, crashing upon _débris_
piles and forest groups below. Sleet and snow and rain fell fast, and
the boom of falling trees and crashing avalanches followed one another
in an almost uninterrupted roar. In the Sentinel gorge, back of our
camp, an avalanche of rock was suddenly let loose, and came down with a
harsh rattle, the bowlders bounding over _débris_ piles and tearing
through the trees by our camp. A vivid belt of blue lightning flashed
down through the blackness, and for a moment every outline of cliff and
forest forms, and the rushing clouds of snow and sleet, were lighted up
with a cold, pallid gleam. The burst of thunder which followed rolled
but for a moment, and was silenced by the furious storm. In the moment
of lightning I saw that the Yosemite Fall, which had been dry for a
month, had suddenly sprung into life again. Vast volumes of water and
ice were pouring over and beating like sea-waves upon the granite below.
Our mules came up to the cabin, and stood on its lee side trembling, and
uttering suppressed moans.
After hours the fitfulness of the tempest passed away, leaving a grand,
monotonous roar. It had torn off all the rotten branches of the year,
and prostrated every decrepit tree, and at last settled down to a
continuous gale, laden with torrents of rain. We lay down upon our bunks
in our clothes, watching and listening through all the first hours of
the night. Sleep was impossible; angry winds and the fury of drifting
rain shook our little shelters, and kept us wide awake. Toward morning a
second thunderstorm burst, and by the light of its flashes I saw that
the river had risen nearly to our cabin door, covering the broad valley
in front of us with a sheet of flood. Gradually the sound of Yosemite
Fall grew louder and stronger, the throbs, as it beat upon the rocks,
rising higher and higher till the whole valley rung with its pulsations.
By dawn the storm had spent its fury, rain ceased, and around us the air
was perfectly still; but aloft, among cliffs and walls, the gale might
still be heard sweeping across the forest and tearing itself among
granite needles. Fearing that so continuous a storm might block up our
mountain trails, Hyde and Cotter and Wilmer, with instruments and
pack-animals, started early and went out to Clark’s Ranch.
So dense and impenetrable a fog overhung us that daylight came with
extreme slowness, and it was nine o’clock before we rose for breakfast,
and at ten a gloomy sea of mist still hung over the valley. The Merced
had overflowed its banks, and ran wild. Toward noon the mist began to
draw down the valley, and finally all drifted away, leaving us shut in
by a gray canopy of cloud which stretched from wall to wall, hanging
down here and there in deep blue sags. In this stratum of gray were lost
many higher summits, but the whole form of valley and cliff could be
seen with terrible distinctness, the walls apparently drawn together,
their bases at one or two points pushed into yellow floods of water
which lay like lakes upon the level expanse. The whole lip of Yosemite
was filled to the brim, and through it there poured a broad, full
torrent of white. Shortly after noon a few rifts opened overhead,
showing a far sky, from which poured gushes of strong, yellow sunlight,
touching here and there upon sombre faces of cliff, and occasionally
gilding the falling torrent. A wind still blew, smiting the Yosemite
precipice, and playing strangest games with the fall itself. At one time
a gust rushed upon the lip of the fall with such violence as to dam back
all its waters. We could see its white pile in the lip mounting higher
and higher, still held back by the wind, until there must have been a
front of from a hundred and fifty to two hundred feet of boiling white
water. For a whole minute not a drop poured down the wall; but,
gathering strength, the torrent overcame the wind, rushed out with
tremendous violence, leaped one hundred and fifty feet straight out into
air, and fell clear to the rocks below, dashing high and white again,
and breaking into a cloud of spray that filled the lower air of the
valley for a mile.
While the water was held back in the gorge there was a moment of
complete silence, but when it finally burst out again a crash as of
sudden thunder shook the air. At times gusts of wind would drive upon
the Three Brothers cliff, and be deflected toward the Yosemite, swinging
the whole mighty cataract like a pendulum; and again, pouring upon the
rocks at the bottom of the valley, it would gather up the whole fall in
mid-air, whirl it in a festoon, and carry it back over the very summit
of the walls. I got out the theodolite to measure the angle of its
deflection, and, while watching, it swung over an entire semi-circle,
now carried from the cliffs to the right, and then whirled back in a
cloud of foam over the head of the Three Brothers. A very frequent prank
was to loop the whole twenty-six hundred feet of cataract into a single,
semi-circular festoon, which fell in the form of fine fringe.
Throughout the afternoon we did little else than watch these
ever-changing forms of falling water, until toward evening, when we
walked up to see the Merced. I never beheld such a rapid rise in any
river; from a mere brook, hiding itself away under overhanging banks and
among shrubby islands, it sprang in one night to the size of a full,
large river, flowing with the rapidity of a torrent and whirling in its
eddies huge trunks of storm-blown pines. As twilight gathered, the scene
deepened into a most indescribable gloom; dark-blue shadows covered half
the precipices, and sullen, unvaried sky stretched over us its
implacable gray. There was something positively fearful in this color;
such an impenetrable sky might overarch the Inferno. As we looked, it
slowly sank, creeping down precipices, filling the whole gorge; coming
down, down, and fitting the cliffs like the piston of an air-pump, till
within a thousand feet of us it became stationary, and then slowly
lifted again, clearing the summit and rising to an almost infinite
remoteness. Slowly a few hard, sharp crystals of snow floated down.
Later the air became intensely chilly, and by dark was full of slowly
falling snow, giving prospect of a great mountain storm which might
close the Sierras. On the following morning we determined at all costs
to pack our remaining instruments and escape. The ground was covered
with snow to the depth of seven or eight inches, and through drifting
fog-banks we could occasionally get glimpses and see that every cliff
was deeply buried in snow. We had still a few barometrical observations
along the Mariposa trail which were necessary to complete our series of
altitudes; and I started in advance of Gardiner and Clark to break the
trail, expecting that when I stopped to make readings they would easily
overtake me. Two hours’ hard work was needed to reach the ascent. It was
not until noon that I made Inspiration Point, snow having deepened to
eighteen inches, entirely obliterating the trail, and had it not been
for the extreme frequency of our journeys I should never have been able
to follow it; as it was, with occasional mistakes which were soon
remedied, I kept the way very well, and my tracks made it easy for the
party behind. Having reached the plateau, I made my two barometrical
stations, and then started alone through forests for Westfall’s cabin.
Every fir-tree was a solid cone of white, and often clusters of five or
six were buried together in one common pile. Now and then a little
sunlight broke through the clouds, and in these intervals the scene was
one of wonderful beauty. Tall shafts of fir, often one hundred and
eighty feet high, trimmed with white branches, cast their blue shadows
upon snowy ground.
At about four o’clock, after nine hours of hard tramping, I reached
Westfall’s cabin, built a fire, and sat down to warm myself and wait for
my friends. In half an hour they made their appearance, looking haggard
and weary, declaring they would go no farther that night. They led their
mule into the cabin, and unpacked, and began to make themselves
comfortably at home.
About five the darkness of night had fairly settled down, and with it
came a gentle but dense snow-storm. It seemed to me a terrible risk for
us to remain in the mountains, and I felt it to be absolutely necessary
that one, at least, should press on to Clark’s, so that, if a really
great storm should come, he could bring up aid. Accordingly, I
volunteered to go on myself, Clark and Gardiner expressing their
determination to remain where they were at all costs.
At this juncture Cotter’s well-known voice sounded through the woods as
he approached the cabin. He had been all day climbing from Clark’s, and
had come to lend a hand in getting the things down. He was of my opinion
that it was absolutely necessary for one of us, at least, to go back to
Clark’s, and offered, if I thought best, to try to accompany me. I had
come from Yosemite and he from Clark’s, having travelled all day, and
it was no slight task for us to face storm and darkness in the forest,
and among complicated spurs of the Sierra.
We ate our lunch by the cabin fire, bade our friends good-night, and
walked out together into the darkness. For the first mile there was no
danger of missing our way,--even in the darkness of night Cotter’s
tracks could be seen,--but after about half an hour it began to be very
difficult to keep the trail. The storm increased to a tempest, and
exhaustion compelled us to travel slower and slower. It was with intense
anxiety that we searched for well-known blazed trees along the trail,
often thrusting our arms down in the snow to feel for a blaze that we
knew of. If it was not there we had for a moment an overpowering sense
of being lost; but we were ordinarily rewarded after searching upon a
few trees, and the blaze once found animated us with new courage. Hour
after hour we travelled down the mountain, falling off high banks now
and then, for in the dark all ideas of slope were lost. It must have
been about midnight when we reached what seemed to be the verge of a
precipice. If our calculations were right, we must have come to the edge
of the South Fork Cañon. Here Cotter sank with exhaustion and declared
that he must sleep. I rolled him over and implored him to get up and
struggle on for a little while longer, when I felt sure that we must get
down to the South Fork Cañon. He utterly refused, and lay there in a
drowsy condition, fast giving up to the effects of fatigue and cold. I
unbound a long scarf which was tied round his neck, put it under his
arms like a harness, and, tying it round my body, started on, dragging
him through the snow, to see if by that means I might not exasperate him
to rise and labor on. In a few minutes it had its effect, and he sprang
to his feet and fell upon me in a burst of indignation. A few words were
enough to bring him to himself, when the old, calm courage was
reasserted, and we started together to make our way down the cliff.
Happily we at length found the right ridge, and rapidly descended
through forest to the river side.
Believing that we must still be below the bridge, we walked rapidly up
the bank until at last we found it, and came quickly to Clark’s. We
pounded upon the cabin door, and waked up our friends, who received us
with joy, and set about cooking us a supper.
It was two o’clock when we arrived, and by three we all went off again
to our bunks. My anxiety about Gardiner and Clark prevented my sleeping.
Every few minutes I went to the door.
Before dawn it had cleared again, and remained fair till the next noon,
when the two made their appearance. No sooner were they quietly housed
than the storm burst again with renewed strength, howling among the
forest trees grandly. Snow drifted heavily all the afternoon, and
through the night it still fell, reaching an average depth of about two
feet by the following morning.
We were up early, and packed upon the animals our instruments,
note-books, and personal effects, leaving all the blankets and heavy
luggage to be gotten out in the following spring. We toiled slowly and
heavily up Chowchilla trail. The branches of the great pines and firs
were overloaded with snow, which now and then fell in small avalanches
upon our heads. Here and there an old bough gave way under its weight,
and fell with a soft thud into the snow. We took turns breaking trail,
Napoleon, the one-eyed mule, distinguishing himself greatly by following
its intricate crooks, while the bravest of us, by turns, held to his
tail. There is something deeply humiliating in this process. All the
domineering qualities of mankind vanished before the quick, subtle
instinct of that noble animal, the mule, and his superior strength came
out in magnificent style. With a sublime scorn of his former master, he
started ahead, dragging me proudly after him. I had sometimes thrashed
that mule with unsympathetic violence, and I fancied it was something
very like poetic justice thus submissively to follow in his wake.
Midday found us upon the Chowchilla summit, following a trail deeply
buried and often obliterated, and undiscoverable but for our long-eared
leader. As we descended the west slope the snow grew more and more
moist, less deep, and gradually turned into rain. An hour’s tramp found
us upon bare ground, under the fiercely driving rain, which quickly
soaked us to the bone. The streams, as we descended, were found to be
more and more swollen, until at last it required some nerve to ford the
little brooklets which the mule had drunk dry on our upward journey.
The earth was thoroughly softened, and here and there the trail was
filled with brimming brooks, which rapidly gullied it out.
A more drowned and bedraggled set of fellows never walked out upon the
wagon-road and turned toward Mariposa. Streams of water flowed from
every fold of our garments, our soaked hats clung to our cheeks, the
baggage was a mass of pulp, and the mules smelled violently of wet hide.
Fortunately, our note-books, carefully strapped in oil-cloth, so far
resisted wetting. It was three o’clock in the afternoon when we reached
Dulong’s house, and were surprised to see the water flowing over the top
of the bridge. In ordinary times a dry arroyo traverses this farm, and
runs under a bridge in front of the house. Clark, our only mounted man,
rode out, as he supposed, upon the bridge; but unfortunately it was
gone, and he and his horse plunged splendidly into the stream. They came
to the surface, Clark with a look of intense astonishment on his face,
and the mare sputtering and striking out wildly for the other side.
Being a strong swimmer, she reached the bank, climbed out, and Clark
politely invited us to follow. The one-eyed Napoleon was brought to the
brink and induced to plunge in by an application of fence-rails _a
tergo_, his cyclopean organ piloting him safely across, when he was
quickly followed by the other mules. We watched the load of instruments
with some anxiety, and were not reassured when their heavy weight bore
the mule quite under; but she climbed successfully out, and we
ourselves, half swimming, half floundering, managed to cross.
A little way farther we came upon another stream rushing violently
across the road, sweeping down logs and sections of fence. Here Clark
dismounted, and we drove the whole train in. Three animals got safely
over, but the instrument mule was swept down stream and badly snagged,
lying upon one side with his head under water.
Cotter and Gardiner and Clark ran up stream and got across upon a log. I
made a dash for the snagged mule, and by strong swimming managed to
catch one of his feet, and then his tail, and worked myself toward the
shore. It was something of a task to hold his head out of the water, but
I was quickly joined by the others, and we managed to drag him out by
the head and tail. There he lay upon the bank on his side, tired of
life, utterly refusing to get upon his feet, the most abominable
specimen of inertia and indifference. While I was pricking him
vigorously with a tripod, the ground caved under my feet and I quickly
sank. Cotter, who was standing close by, seized me by the cape of my
soldier’s overcoat, and landed me as carefully as he would a fish. As we
marched down the road, unconsciously keeping step, the sound of our
boots had quite a symphonic effect; they were full of water, and with
soft, melodious slushing acted as a calmer upon our spirits.
The road in some places was cut out many feet deep, and we were obliged
to climb upon the wooded banks, and make laborious _détours_. At last
we reached a branch of the Chowchilla, which was pouring in a flood
between a man’s house and his barn. Here we formed a line, a mule
between each two men. Our line was swept frightfully down stream, but
the leader gained his feet, and we came out safe and dripping upon
_terra firma_ on the other side. A mile farther we came upon the main
Chowchilla, which was running a perfect flood; from being a mere
brooklet it had swollen to a considerable river, with waves five and six
feet high sweeping down its centre. We formed our line and attempted the
passage, but were thrown back. It would have been madness to try it
again, and we turned sorrowfully back to the last ranch. Cotter and I
piloted the animals over to the barn, and, upon returning, threw a rope
to our friends upon the other side, and were drawn through the swift
water.
In the ranch-house we found two bachelors, typical California partners,
who were quietly partaking of their supper of bacon, fried onions,
Japanese tea, and biscuits, which, like “Harry York’s,” had too much
saleratus. We stood upon their threshold awhile and dripped, quite a
rill descending over the two steps, trickling down the door-yard as a
new fork of the Chowchilla.
We asked for supper and shelter, but were met with such a gruff,
inhospitable reply that we lost all sense of modesty, and walked in with
all our moisture. We stretched a rope across the middle of the
sitting-room before a huge fire in an open chimney, then, stripping
ourselves to the buff, we hung up our steaming clothes upon the line,
and turned solemnly round and round before the fire, drying our persons.
In the meanwhile our inhospitable landlords made the best of the
situation, and proceeded to achieve more onions and more saleratus
biscuit for our entertainment. Upon our departure in the morning the
generous rancher charged us first-class hotel prices.
The flood had utterly disappeared, and we passed over the Chowchilla
with surprise and dry shoes.
At Mariposa we parted from Clark, and devoted two whole days to
struggling through the mud of San Joaquin Valley to San Francisco, where
we arrived, wet and exhausted, just in time to get on board the New York
steamer.