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diff --git a/old/10012-h/10012-h.htm b/old/10012-h/10012-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c66cfe --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10012-h/10012-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10398 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Mountains of California, by John Muir</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 5%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +p.caption {font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Mountains of California, by John Muir</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Mountains of California</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: John Muir</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: November 7, 2003 [eBook #10012]<br /> +[Most recently updated: July 15, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Beth Trapaga and PG Distributed Proofreaders</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOUNTAINS OF CALIFORNIA ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover" /> +</div> + +<h1>The Mountains of California</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by John Muir</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">I THE SIERRA NEVADA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">II THE GLACIERS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">III THE SNOW</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">IV A NEAR VIEW OF THE HIGH SIERRA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">V THE PASSES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">VI THE GLACIER LAKES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">VII THE GLACIER MEADOWS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">VIII THE FORESTS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">IX THE DOUGLAS SQUIRREL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">X A WIND-STORM IN THE FORESTS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">XI THE RIVER FLOODS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">XII SIERRA THUNDER-STORMS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">XIII THE WATER-OUZEL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">XIV THE WILD SHEEP</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">XV IN THE SIERRA FOOT-HILLS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">XVI THE BEE-PASTURES</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus01"></a> +<img src="images/img01.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="HOOFED LOCUSTS" /> +<p class="caption">HOOFED LOCUSTS.</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<table summary="" > + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus01">HOOFED LOCUSTS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus02">MOUNT TAMALPAIS—NORTH OF THE GOLDEN GATE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus03">MAP OF THE SIERRA NEVADA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus04">MOUNT SHASTA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus05">MOUNT HOOD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus06">MAP OF THE GLACIER COUNTRY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus07">MOUNT RAINIER; NORTH PUYALLUP GLACIER FROM EAGLE CLIFF</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus08">KOLANA ROCK, HETCH-HETCHY VALLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus09">GENERAL GRANT TREE, GENERAL GRANT NATIONAL PARK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus10">MAP OF THE YOSEMITE VALLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus11">MAP OF THE YOSEMITE VALLEY, SHOWING PRESENT RESERVATION BOUNDARY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus12">RANCHERIA FALLS, HETCH-HETCHY VALLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus13">VIEW OF THE MONO PLAIN FROM THE FOOT OF BLOODY CAÑON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus14">LAKE TENAYA, ONE OF THE YOSEMITE FOUNTAINS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus15">THE DEATH OF A LAKE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus16">SHADOW LAKE (MERCED LAKE), YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus17">VERNAL FALL, YOSEMITE VALLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus18">LAKE STARR KING</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus19">VIEW IN THE SIERRA FOREST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus20">EDGE OF THE TIMBER LINE ON MOUNT SHASTA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus21">VIEW IN THE MAIN PINE BELT OF THE SIERRA FOREST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus22">NUT PINE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus23">THE GROVE FORM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus24">LOWER MARGIN OF THE MAIN PINE BELT, SHOWING OPEN CHARACTER OF WOODS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus25">SUGAR PINE ON EXPOSED RIDGE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus26">YOUNG SUGAR PINE BEGINNING TO BEAR CONES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus27">FOREST OF SEQUOIA, SUGAR PINE, AND DOUGLAS SPRUCE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus28">PINUS PONDEROSA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus29">SILVER PINE 210 FEET HIGH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus30">INCENSE CEDAR IN ITS PRIME</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus31">FOREST OF GRAND SILVER FIRS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus32">VIEW OF FOREST OF THE MAGNIFICENT SILVER FIR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus33">SILVER-FIR FOREST GROWING ON MORAINES OF THE HOFFMAN AND TENAYA GLACIERS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus34">SEQUOIA GIGANTEA. VIEW IN GENERAL GRANT NATIONAL PARK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus35">MUIR GORGE, TUOLUMNE CAÑON—YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus36">VIEW IN TUOLUMNE CAÑON, YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus37">JUNIPER, OR RED CEDAR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus38">STORM-BEATEN JUNIPERS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus39">STORM-BEATEN HEMLOCK SPRUCE, FORTY FEET HIGH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus40">GROUP OF ERECT DWARF PINES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus41">A DWARF PINE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus42">OAK GROWING AMONG YELLOW PINES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus43">PATE VALLEY, SHOWING THE OAKS. TUOLUMNE CAÑON, YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus44">TRACK OF DOUGLAS SQUIRREL ONCE DOWN AND UP A PINE-TREE WHEN SHOWING OFF TO A SPECTATOR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus45">SEEDS, WINGS, AND SCALE OF SUGAR PINE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus46">TRYING THE BOW</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus47">A WIND-STORM IN THE CALIFORNIA FORESTS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus48">YELLOW PINE AND LIBOCEDRUS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus49">BRIDAL VEIL FALLS, YOSEMITE VALLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus50">WATER-OUZEL DIVING AND FEEDING</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus51">ONE OF THE LATE-SUMMER FEEDING-GROUNDS OF THE OUZEL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus52">OUZEL ENTERING A WHITE CURRENT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus53">THE OUZEL AT HOME</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus54">YOSEMITE BIRDS, SNOW-COUND AT THE FOOT OF INDIAN CAÑON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus55">SNOW-BOUND ON MOUNT SHASTA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus56">HEAD OF THE MERINO RAM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus57">HEAD OF ROCKY MOUNTAIN WILD SHEEP</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus58">CROSSING A CAÑON STREAM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus59">WILD SHEEP JUMPING OVER A PRECIPICE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus60">INDIANS HUNTING WILD SHEEP</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus61">A BEE-RANCH IN LOWER CALIFORNIA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus62">WILD BEE GARDEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus63">IN THE SAN GABRIEL VALLEY.—WHITE SAGE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus64">A BEE-RANCH ON A SPUR OF THE SAN GABRIEL RANGE.—CARDINAL FLOWER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus65">WILD BUCKWHEAT.—A BEE-RANCH IN THE WILDERNESS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus66">A BEE-PASTURE ON THE MORAINE DESERT.—SPANISH BAYONET</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus67">A BEE-KEEPER’S CABIN</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I<br/> +THE SIERRA NEVADA</h2> + +<p> +Go where you may within the bounds of California, mountains are ever in sight, +charming and glorifying every landscape. Yet so simple and massive is the +topography of the State in general views, that the main central portion +displays only one valley, and two chains of mountains which seem almost +perfectly regular in trend and height: the Coast Range on the west side, the +Sierra Nevada on the east. These two ranges coming together in curves on the +north and south inclose a magnificent basin, with a level floor more than 400 +miles long, and from 35 to 60 miles wide. This is the grand Central Valley of +California, the waters of which have only one outlet to the sea through the +Golden Gate. But with this general simplicity of features there is great +complexity of hidden detail. The Coast Range, rising as a grand green barrier +against the ocean, from 2000 to 8000 feet high, is composed of innumerable +forest-crowned spurs, ridges, and rolling hill-waves which inclose a multitude +of smaller valleys; some looking out through long, forest-lined vistas to the +sea; others, with but few trees, to the Central Valley; while a thousand others +yet smaller are embosomed and concealed in mild, round-browed hills, each, with +its own climate, soil, and productions. +</p> + +<p> +Making your way through the mazes of the Coast Range to the summit of any of +the inner peaks or passes opposite San Francisco, in the clear springtime, the +grandest and most telling of all California landscapes is outspread before you. +At your feet lies the great Central Valley glowing golden in the sunshine, +extending north and south farther than the eye can reach, one smooth, flowery, +lake-like bed of fertile soil. Along its eastern margin rises the mighty +Sierra, miles in height, reposing like a smooth, cumulous cloud in the sunny +sky, and so gloriously colored, and so luminous, it seems to be not clothed +with light, but wholly composed of it, like the wall of some celestial city. +Along the top, and extending a good way down, you see a pale, pearl-gray belt +of snow; and below it a belt of blue and dark purple, marking the extension of +the forests; and along the base of the range a broad belt of rose-purple and +yellow, where lie the minor’s gold-fields and the foot-hill gardens. All +these colored belts blending smoothly make a wall of light ineffably fine, and +as beautiful as a rainbow, yet firm as adamant. +</p> + +<p> +When I first enjoyed this superb view, one glowing April day, from the summit +of the Pacheco Pass, the Central Valley, but little trampled or plowed as yet, +was one furred, rich sheet of golden compositae, and the luminous wall of the +mountains shone in all its glory. Then it seemed to me the Sierra should be +called not the Nevada, or Snowy Range, but the Range of Light. And after ten +years spent in the heart of it, rejoicing and wondering, bathing in its +glorious floods of light, seeing the sunbursts of morning among the icy peaks, +the noonday radiance on the trees and rocks and snow, the flush of the +alpenglow, and a thousand dashing waterfalls with their marvelous abundance of +irised spray, it still seems to me above all others the Range of Light, the +most divinely beautiful of all the mountain-chains I have ever seen. +</p> + +<p> +The Sierra is about 500 miles long, 70 miles wide, and from 7000 to nearly +15,000 feet high. In general views no mark of man is visible on it, nor +anything to suggest the richness of the life it cherishes, or the depth and +grandeur of its sculpture. None of its magnificent forest-crowned ridges rises +much above the general level to publish its wealth. No great valley or lake is +seen, or river, or group of well-marked features of any kind, standing out in +distinct pictures. Even the summit-peaks, so clear and high in the sky, seem +comparatively smooth and featureless. Nevertheless, glaciers are still at work +in the shadows of the peaks, and thousands of lakes and meadows shine and bloom +beneath them, and the whole range is furrowed with cañons to a depth of from +2000 to 5000 feet, in which once flowed majestic glaciers, and in which now +flow and sing a band of beautiful rivers. +</p> + +<p> +Though of such stupendous depth, these famous cañons are not raw, gloomy, +jagged-walled gorges, savage and inaccessible. With rough passages here and +there they still make delightful pathways for the mountaineer, conducting from +the fertile lowlands to the highest icy fountains, as a kind of mountain +streets full of charming life and light, graded and sculptured by the ancient +glaciers, and presenting, throughout all their courses, a rich variety of novel +and attractive scenery, the most attractive that has yet been discovered in the +mountain-ranges of the world. +</p> + +<p> +In many places, especially in the middle region of the western flank of the +range, the main cañons widen into spacious valleys or parks, diversified like +artificial landscape-gardens, with charming groves and meadows, and thickets of +blooming bushes, while the lofty, retiring walls, infinitely varied in form and +sculpture, are fringed with ferns, flowering-plants of many species, oaks, and +evergreens, which find anchorage on a thousand narrow steps and benches; while +the whole is enlivened and made glorious with rejoicing streams that come +dancing and foaming over the sunny brows of the cliffs to join the shining +river that flows in tranquil beauty down the middle of each one of them. +</p> + +<p> +The walls of these park valleys of the Yosemite kind are made up of rocks +mountains in size, partly separated from each other by narrow gorges and +side-cañons; and they are so sheer in front, and so compactly built together on +a level floor, that, comprehensively seen, the parks they inclose look like +immense halls or temples lighted from above. Every rock seems to glow with +life. Some lean back in majestic repose; others, absolutely sheer, or nearly +so, for thousands of feet, advance their brows in thoughtful attitudes beyond +their companions, giving welcome to storms and calms alike, seemingly conscious +yet heedless of everything going on about them, awful in stern majesty, types +of permanence, yet associated with beauty of the frailest and most fleeting +forms; their feet set in pine-groves and gay emerald meadows, their brows in +the sky; bathed in light, bathed in floods of singing water, while snow-clouds, +avalanches, and the winds shine and surge and wreathe about them as the years +go by, as if into these mountain mansions Nature had taken pains to gather her +choicest treasures to draw her lovers into close and confiding communion with +her. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus02"></a> +<img src="images/img02.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MOUNT TAMALPAIS" /> +<p class="caption">MOUNT TAMALPAIS—NORTH OF THE GOLDEN GATE.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Here, too, in the middle region of deepest cañons are the grandest +forest-trees, the Sequoia, king of conifers, the noble Sugar and Yellow Pines, +Douglas Spruce, Libocedrus, and the Silver Firs, each a giant of its kind, +assembled together in one and the same forest, surpassing all other coniferous +forests in the world, both in the number of its species and in the size and +beauty of its trees. The winds flow in melody through their colossal spires, +and they are vocal everywhere with the songs of birds and running water. Miles +of fragrant ceanothus and manzanita bushes bloom beneath them, and lily gardens +and meadows, and damp, ferny glens in endless variety of fragrance and color, +compelling the admiration of every observer. Sweeping on over ridge and valley, +these noble trees extend a continuous belt from end to end of the range, only +slightly interrupted by sheer-walled cañons at intervals of about fifteen and +twenty miles. Here the great burly brown bears delight to roam, harmonizing +with the brown boles of the trees beneath which they feed. Deer, also, dwell +here, and find food and shelter in the ceanothus tangles, with a multitude of +smaller people. Above this region of giants, the trees grow smaller until the +utmost limit of the timber line is reached on the stormy mountain-slopes at a +height of from ten to twelve thousand feet above the sea, where the Dwarf Pine +is so lowly and hard beset by storms and heavy snow, it is pressed into flat +tangles, over the tops of which we may easily walk. Below the main forest belt +the trees likewise diminish in size, frost and burning drought repressing and +blasting alike. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus03"></a> +<img src="images/img03.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MAP OF THE SIERRA NEVADA" /> +<p class="caption">MAP OF THE SIERRA NEVADA</p> +</div> + +<p> +The rose-purple zone along the base of the range comprehends nearly all the +famous gold region of California. And here it was that miners from every +country under the sun assembled in a wild, torrent-like rush to seek their +fortunes. On the banks of every river, ravine, and gully they have left their +marks. Every gravel- and boulder-bed has been desperately riddled over and over +again. But in this region the pick and shovel, once wielded with savage +enthusiasm, have been laid away, and only quartz-mining is now being carried on +to any considerable extent. The zone in general is made up of low, tawny, +waving foot-hills, roughened here and there with brush and trees, and +outcropping masses of slate, colored gray and red with lichens. The smaller +masses of slate, rising abruptly from the dry, grassy sod in leaning slabs, +look like ancient tombstones in a deserted burying-ground. In early spring, say +from February to April, the whole of this foot-hill belt is a paradise of bees +and flowers. Refreshing rains then fall freely, birds are busy building their +nests, and the sunshine is balmy and delightful. But by the end of May the +soil, plants, and sky seem to have been baked in an oven. Most of the plants +crumble to dust beneath the foot, and the ground is full of cracks; while the +thirsty traveler gazes with eager longing through the burning glare to the +snowy summits looming like hazy clouds in the distance. +</p> + +<p> +The trees, mostly <i>Quercus Douglasii</i> and <i>Pinus Sabiniana</i>, thirty +to forty feet high, with thin, pale-green foliage, stand far apart and cast but +little shade. Lizards glide about on the rocks enjoying a constitution that no +drought can dry, and ants in amazing numbers, whose tiny sparks of life seem to +burn the brighter with the increasing heat, ramble industriously in long trains +in search of food. Crows, ravens, magpies—friends in +distress—gather on the ground beneath the best shade-trees, panting with +drooping wings and bills wide open, scarce a note from any of them during the +midday hours. Quails, too, seek the shade during the heat of the day about +tepid pools in the channels of the larger mid-river streams. Rabbits scurry +from thicket to thicket among the ceanothus bushes, and occasionally a +long-eared hare is seen cantering gracefully across the wider openings. The +nights are calm and dewless during the summer, and a thousand voices proclaim +the abundance of life, notwithstanding the desolating effect of dry sunshine on +the plants and larger animals. The hylas make a delightfully pure and tranquil +music after sunset; and coyotes, the little, despised dogs of the wilderness, +brave, hardy fellows, looking like withered wisps of hay, bark in chorus for +hours. Mining-towns, most of them dead, and a few living ones with bright bits +of cultivation about them, occur at long intervals along the belt, and cottages +covered with climbing roses, in the midst of orange and peach orchards, and +sweet-scented hay-fields in fertile flats where water for irrigation may be +had. But they are mostly far apart, and make scarce any mark in general views. +</p> + +<p> +Every winter the High Sierra and the middle forest region get snow in glorious +abundance, and even the foot-hills are at times whitened. Then all the range +looks like a vast beveled wall of purest marble. The rough places are then made +smooth, the death and decay of the year is covered gently and kindly, and the +ground seems as clean as the sky. And though silent in its flight from the +clouds, and when it is taking its place on rock, or tree, or grassy meadow, how +soon the gentle snow finds a voice! Slipping from the heights, gathering in +avalanches, it booms and roars like thunder, and makes a glorious show as it +sweeps down the mountain-side, arrayed in long, silken streamers and wreathing, +swirling films of crystal dust. +</p> + +<p> +The north half of the range is mostly covered with floods of lava, and dotted +with volcanoes and craters, some of them recent and perfect in form, others in +various stages of decay. The south half is composed of granite nearly from base +to summit, while a considerable number of peaks, in the middle of the range, +are capped with metamorphic slates, among which are Mounts Dana and Gibbs to +the east of Yosemite Valley. Mount Whitney, the culminating point of the range +near its southern extremity, lifts its helmet-shaped crest to a height of +nearly 14,700 feet. Mount Shasta, a colossal volcanic cone, rises to a height +of 14,440 feet at the northern extremity, and forms a noble landmark for all +the surrounding region within a radius of a hundred miles. Residual masses of +volcanic rocks occur throughout most of the granitic southern portion also, and +a considerable number of old volcanoes on the flanks, especially along the +eastern base of the range near Mono Lake and southward. But it is only to the +northward that the entire range, from base to summit, is covered with lava. +</p> + +<p> +From the summit of Mount Whitney only granite is seen. Innumerable peaks and +spires but little lower than its own storm-beaten crags rise in groups like +forest-trees, in full view, segregated by cañons of tremendous depth and +ruggedness. On Shasta nearly every feature in the vast view speaks of the old +volcanic fires. Far to the northward, in Oregon, the icy volcanoes of Mount +Pitt and the Three Sisters rise above the dark evergreen woods. Southward +innumerable smaller craters and cones are distributed along the axis of the +range and on each flank. Of these, Lassen’s Butte is the highest, being +nearly 11,000 feet above sea-level. Miles of its flanks are reeking and +bubbling with hot springs, many of them so boisterous and sulphurous they seem +over ready to become spouting geysers like those of the Yellowstone. +</p> + +<p> +The Cinder Cone near marks the most recent volcanic eruption in the Sierra. It +is a symmetrical truncated cone about 700 feet high, covered with gray cinders +and ashes, and has a regular unchanged crater on its summit, in which a few +small Two-leaved Pines are growing. These show that the age of the cone is not +less than eighty years. It stands between two lakes, which a short time ago +were one. Before the cone was built, a flood of rough vesicular lava was poured +into the lake, cutting it in two, and, overflowing its banks, the fiery flood +advanced into the pine-woods, overwhelming the trees in its way, the charred +ends of some of which may still be seen projecting from beneath the snout of +the lava-stream where it came to rest. Later still there was an eruption of +ashes and loose obsidian cinders, probably from the same vent, which, besides +forming the Cinder Cone, scattered a heavy shower over the surrounding woods +for miles to a depth of from six inches to several feet. +</p> + +<p> +The history of this last Sierra eruption is also preserved in the traditions of +the Pitt River Indians. They tell of a fearful time of darkness, when the sky +was black with ashes and smoke that threatened every living thing with death, +and that when at length the sun appeared once more it was red like blood. +</p> + +<p> +Less recent craters in great numbers roughen the adjacent region; some of them +with lakes in their throats, others overgrown with trees and flowers, Nature in +these old hearths and firesides having literally given beauty for ashes. On the +northwest side of Mount Shasta there is a subordinate cone about 3000 feet +below the summit, which, has been active subsequent to the breaking up of the +main ice-cap that once covered the mountain, as is shown by its comparatively +unwasted crater and the streams of unglaciated lava radiating from it. The main +summit is about a mile and a half in diameter, bounded by small crumbling peaks +and ridges, among which we seek in vain for the outlines of the ancient crater. +</p> + +<p> +These ruinous masses, and the deep glacial grooves that flute the sides of the +mountain, show that it has been considerably lowered and wasted by ice; how +much we have no sure means of knowing. Just below the extreme summit hot +sulphurous gases and vapor issue from irregular fissures, mixed with spray +derived from melting snow, the last feeble expression of the mighty force that +built the mountain. Not in one great convulsion was Shasta given birth. The +crags of the summit and the sections exposed by the glaciers down the sides +display enough of its internal framework to prove that comparatively long +periods of quiescence intervened between many distinct eruptions, during which +the cooling lavas ceased to flow, and became permanent additions to the bulk of +the growing mountain. With alternate haste and deliberation eruption succeeded +eruption till the old volcano surpassed even its present sublime height. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus04"></a> +<img src="images/img04.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MOUNT SHASTA" /> +<p class="caption">MOUNT SHASTA</p> +</div> + +<p> +Standing on the icy top of this, the grandest of all the fire-mountains of the +Sierra, we can hardly fail to look forward to its next eruption. Gardens, +vineyards, homes have been planted confidingly on the flanks of volcanoes +which, after remaining steadfast for ages, have suddenly blazed into violent +action, and poured forth overwhelming floods of fire. It is known that more +than a thousand years of cool calm have intervened between violent eruptions. +Like gigantic geysers spouting molten rock instead of water, volcanoes work and +rest, and we have no sure means of knowing whether they are dead when still, or +only sleeping. +</p> + +<p> +Along the western base of the range a telling series of sedimentary rocks +containing the early history of the Sierra are now being studied. But leaving +for the present these first chapters, we see that only a very short geological +time ago, just before the coming on of that winter of winters called the +glacial period, a vast deluge of molten rocks poured from many a chasm and +crater on the flanks and summit of the range, filling lake basins and river +channels, and obliterating nearly every existing feature on the northern +portion. At length these all-destroying floods ceased to flow. But while the +great volcanic cones built up along the axis still burned and smoked, the whole +Sierra passed under the domain of ice and snow. Then over the bald, +featureless, fire-blackened mountains, glaciers began to crawl, covering them +from the summits to the sea with a mantle of ice; and then with infinite +deliberation the work went on of sculpturing the range anew. These mighty +agents of erosion, halting never through unnumbered centuries, crushed and +ground the flinty lavas and granites beneath their crystal folds, wasting and +building until in the fullness of time the Sierra was born again, brought to +light nearly as we behold it today, with glaciers and snow-crushed pines at the +top of the range, wheat-fields and orange-groves at the foot of it. +</p> + +<p> +This change from icy darkness and death to life and beauty was slow, as we +count time, and is still going on, north and south, over all the world wherever +glaciers exist, whether in the form of distinct rivers, as in Switzerland, +Norway, the mountains of Asia, and the Pacific Coast; or in continuous mantling +folds, as in portions of Alaska, Greenland, Franz-Joseph-Land, Nova Zembla, +Spitzbergen, and the lands about the South Pole. But in no country, as far as I +know, may these majestic changes be studied to better advantage than in the +plains and mountains of California. +</p> + +<p> +Toward the close of the glacial period, when the snow-clouds became less +fertile and the melting waste of sunshine became greater, the lower folds of +the ice-sheet in California, discharging fleets of icebergs into the sea, began +to shallow and recede from the lowlands, and then move slowly up the flanks of +the Sierra in compliance with the changes of climate. The great white mantle on +the mountains broke up into a series of glaciers more or less distinct and +river-like, with many tributaries, and these again were melted and divided into +still smaller glaciers, until now only a few of the smallest residual topmost +branches of the grand system exist on the cool slopes of the summit peaks. +</p> + +<p> +Plants and animals, biding their time, closely followed the retiring ice, +bestowing quick and joyous animation on the new-born landscapes. Pine-trees +marched up the sun-warmed moraines in long, hopeful files, taking the ground +and establishing themselves as soon as it was ready for them; brown-spiked +sedges fringed the shores of the newborn lakes; young rivers roared in the +abandoned channels of the glaciers; flowers bloomed around the feet of the +great burnished domes,—while with quick fertility mellow beds of soil, +settling and warming, offered food to multitudes of Nature’s waiting +children, great and small, animals as well as plants; mice, squirrels, marmots, +deer, bears, elephants, etc. The ground burst into bloom with magical rapidity, +and the young forests into bird-song: life in every form warming and sweetening +and growing richer as the years passed away over the mighty Sierra so lately +suggestive of death and consummate desolation only. +</p> + +<p> +It is hard without long and loving study to realize the magnitude of the work +done on these mountains during the last glacial period by glaciers, which are +only streams of closely compacted snow-crystals. Careful study of the phenomena +presented goes to show that the pre-glacial condition of the range was +comparatively simple: one vast wave of stone in which a thousand mountains, +domes, cañons, ridges, etc., lay concealed. And in the development of these +Nature chose for a tool not the earthquake or lightning to rend and split +asunder, not the stormy torrent or eroding rain, but the tender snow-flowers +noiselessly falling through unnumbered centuries, the offspring of the sun and +sea. Laboring harmoniously in united strength they crushed and ground and wore +away the rocks in their march, making vast beds of soil, and at the same time +developed and fashioned the landscapes into the delightful variety of hill and +dale and lordly mountain that mortals call beauty. Perhaps more than a mile in +average depth has the range been thus degraded during the last glacial +period,—a quantity of mechanical work almost inconceivably great. And our +admiration must be excited again and again as we toil and study and learn that +this vast job of rockwork, so far-reaching in its influences, was done by +agents so fragile and small as are these flowers of the mountain clouds. Strong +only by force of numbers, they carried away entire mountains, particle by +particle, block by block, and cast them into the sea; sculptured, fashioned, +modeled all the range, and developed its predestined beauty. All these new +Sierra landscapes were evidently predestined, for the physical structure of the +rocks on which the features of the scenery depend was acquired while they lay +at least a mile deep below the pre-glacial surface. And it was while these +features were taking form in the depths of the range, the particles of the +rocks marching to their appointed places in the dark with reference to the +coming beauty, that the particles of icy vapor in the sky marching to the same +music assembled to bring them to the light. Then, after their grand task was +done, these bands of snow-flowers, these mighty glaciers, were melted and +removed as if of no more importance than dew destined to last but an hour. Few, +however, of Nature’s agents have left monuments so noble and enduring as +they. The great granite domes a mile high, the cañons as deep, the noble peaks, +the Yosemite valleys, these, and indeed nearly all other features of the Sierra +scenery, are glacier monuments. +</p> + +<p> +Contemplating the works of these flowers of the sky, one may easily fancy them +endowed with life: messengers sent down to work in the mountain mines on +errands of divine love. Silently flying through the darkened air, swirling, +glinting, to their appointed places, they seem to have taken counsel together, +saying, “Come, we are feeble; let us help one another. We are many, and +together we will be strong. Marching in close, deep ranks, let us roll away the +stones from these mountain sepulchers, and set the landscapes free. Let us +uncover these clustering domes. Here let us carve a lake basin; there, a +Yosemite Valley; here, a channel for a river with fluted steps and brows for +the plunge of songful cataracts. Yonder let us spread broad sheets of soil, +that man and beast may be fed; and here pile trains of boulders for pines and +giant Sequoias. Here make ground for a meadow; there, for a garden and grove, +making it smooth and fine for small daisies and violets and beds of heathy +bryanthus, spicing it well with crystals, garnet feldspar, and zircon.” +Thus and so on it has oftentimes seemed to me sang and planned and labored the +hearty snow-flower crusaders; and nothing that I can write can possibly +exaggerate the grandeur and beauty of their work. Like morning mist they have +vanished in sunshine, all save the few small companies that still linger on the +coolest mountainsides, and, as residual glaciers, are still busily at work +completing the last of the lake basins, the last beds of soil, and the +sculpture of some of the highest peaks. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus05"></a> +<img src="images/img05.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MOUNT HOOD" /> +<p class="caption">MOUNT HOOD</p> +</div> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II<br/> +THE GLACIERS</h2> + +<p> +Of the small residual glaciers mentioned in the preceding chapter, I have found +sixty-five in that portion of the range lying between latitude 36° 30′ +and 39°. They occur singly or in small groups on the north sides of the peaks +of the High Sierra, sheltered beneath broad frosty shadows, in amphitheaters of +their own making, where the snow, shooting down from the surrounding heights in +avalanches, is most abundant. Over two thirds of the entire number lie between +latitude 37° and 38°, and form the highest fountains of the San Joaquin, +Merced, Tuolumne, and Owen’s rivers. +</p> + +<p> +The glaciers of Switzerland, like those of the Sierra, are mere wasting +remnants of mighty ice-floods that once filled the great valleys and poured +into the sea. So, also, are those of Norway, Asia, and South America. Even the +grand continuous mantles of ice that still cover Greenland, Spitsbergen, Nova +Zembla, Franz-Joseph-Land, parts of Alaska, and the south polar region are +shallowing and shrinking. Every glacier in the world is smaller than it once +was. All the world is growing warmer, or the crop of snow-flowers is +diminishing. But in contemplating the condition of the glaciers of the world, +we must bear in mind while trying to account for the changes going on that the +same sunshine that wastes them builds them. Every glacier records the +expenditure of an enormous amount of sun-heat in lifting the vapor for the snow +of which it is made from the ocean to the mountains, as Tyndall strikingly +shows. +</p> + +<p> +The number of glaciers in the Alps, according to the Schlagintweit brothers, is +1100, of which 100 may be regarded as primary, and the total area of ice, snow, +and <i>névé</i> is estimated at 1177 square miles, or an average for each +glacier of little more than one square mile. On the same authority, the average +height above sea-level at which they melt is about 7414 feet. The Grindelwald +glacier descends below 4000 feet, and one of the Mont Blanc glaciers reaches +nearly as low a point. One of the largest of the Himalaya glaciers on the head +waters of the Ganges does not, according to Captain Hodgson, descend below +12,914 feet. The largest of the Sierra glaciers on Mount Shasta descends to +within 9500 feet of the level of the sea, which, as far as I have observed, is +the lowest point reached by any glacier within the bounds of California, the +average height of all being not far from 11,000 feet. +</p> + +<p> +The changes that have taken place in the glacial conditions of the Sierra from +the time of greatest extension is well illustrated by the series of glaciers of +every size and form extending along the mountains of the coast to Alaska. A +general exploration of this instructive region shows that to the north of +California, through Oregon and Washington, groups of active glaciers still +exist on all the high volcanic cones of the Cascade Range,—Mount Pitt, +the Three Sisters, Mounts Jefferson, Hood, St. Helens, Adams, Rainier, Baker, +and others,—some of them of considerable size, though none of them +approach the sea. Of these mountains Rainier, in Washington, is the highest and +iciest. Its dome-like summit, between 14,000 and 15,000 feet high, is capped +with ice, and eight glaciers, seven to twelve miles long, radiate from it as a +center, and form the sources of the principal streams of the State. The +lowest-descending of this fine group flows through beautiful forests to within +3500 feet of the sea-level, and sends forth a river laden with glacier mud and +sand. On through British Columbia and southeastern Alaska the broad, sustained +mountain-chain, extending along the coast, is generally glacier-bearing. The +upper branches of nearly all the main cañons and fiords are occupied by +glaciers, which gradually increase in size, and descend lower until the high +region between Mount Fairweather and Mount St. Elias is reached, where a +considerable number discharge into the waters of the ocean. This is +preëminently the ice-land of Alaska and of the entire Pacific Coast. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus06"></a> +<img src="images/img06.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MAP OF THE GLACIER COUNTRY" /> +<p class="caption">MAP OF THE GLACIER COUNTRY</p> +</div> + +<p> +Northward from here the glaciers gradually diminish in size and thickness, and +melt at higher levels. In Prince William Sound and Cook’s Inlet many fine +glaciers are displayed, pouring from the surrounding mountains; but to the +north of latitude 62° few, if any, glaciers remain, the ground being mostly low +and the snowfall light. Between latitude 56° and 60° there are probably more +than 5000 glaciers, not counting the smallest. Hundreds of the largest size +descend through the forests to the level of the sea, or near it, though as far +as my own observations have reached, after a pretty thorough examination of the +region, not more than twenty-five discharge icebergs into the sea. All the long +high-walled fiords into which these great glaciers of the first class flow are +of course crowded with icebergs of every conceivable form, which are detached +with thundering noise at intervals of a few minutes from an imposing ice-wall +that is thrust forward into deep water. But these Pacific Coast icebergs are +small as compared with those of Greenland and the Antarctic region, and only a +few of them escape from the intricate system of channels, with which this +portion of the coast is fringed, into the open sea. Nearly all of them are +swashed and drifted by wind and tide back and forth in the fiords until finally +melted by the ocean water, the sunshine, the warm winds, and the copious rains +of summer. Only one glacier on the coast, observed by Prof. Russell, discharges +its bergs directly into the open sea, at Icy Cape, opposite Mount St. Elias. +The southernmost of the glaciers that reach the sea occupies a narrow, +picturesque fiord about twenty miles to the northwest of the mouth of the +Stikeen River, in latitude 56° 50′. The fiord is called by the natives +“Hutli,” or Thunder Bay, from the noise made by the discharge of +the icebergs. About one degree farther north there are four of these complete +glaciers, discharging at the heads of the long arms of Holkam Bay. At the head +of the Tahkoo Inlet, still farther north, there is one; and at the head and +around the sides of Glacier Bay, trending in a general northerly direction from +Cross Sound in latitude 58° to 59°, there are seven of these complete glaciers +pouring bergs into the bay and its branches, and keeping up an eternal +thundering. The largest of this group, the Muir, has upward of 200 tributaries, +and a width below the confluence of the main tributaries of about twenty-five +miles. Between the west side of this icy bay and the ocean all the ground, high +and low, excepting the peaks of the Fairweather Range, is covered with a mantle +of ice from 1000 to probably 3000 feet thick, which discharges by many distinct +mouths. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus07"></a> +<img src="images/img07.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MOUNT RAINIER" /> +<p class="caption">MOUNT RAINIER; NORTH PUYALLUP GLACIER FROM EAGLE CLIFF</p> +</div> + +<p> +This fragmentary ice-sheet, and the immense glaciers about Mount St. Elias, +together with the multitude of separate river-like glaciers that load the +slopes of the coast mountains, evidently once formed part of a continuous +ice-sheet that flowed over all the region hereabouts, and only a comparatively +short time ago extended as far southward as the mouth of the Strait of Juan de +Fuca, probably farther. All the islands of the Alexander Archipelago, as well +as the headlands and promontories of the mainland, display telling traces of +this great mantle that are still fresh and unmistakable. They all have the +forms of the greatest strength with reference to the action of a vast rigid +press of oversweeping ice from the north and northwest, and their surfaces have +a smooth, rounded, overrubbed appearance, generally free from angles. The +intricate labyrinth of canals, channels, straits, passages, sounds, narrows, +etc. between the islands, and extending into the mainland, of course manifest +in their forms and trends and general characteristics the same subordination to +the grinding action of universal glaciation as to their origin, and differ from +the islands and banks of the fiords only in being portions of the pre-glacial +margin of the continent more deeply eroded, and therefore covered by the ocean +waters which flowed into them as the ice was melted out of them. The formation +and extension of fiords in this manner is still going on, and may be witnessed +in many places in Glacier Bay, Yakutat Bay, and adjacent regions. That the +domain of the sea is being extended over the land by the wearing away of its +shores, is well known, but in these icy regions of Alaska, and even as far +south as Vancouver Island, the coast rocks have been so short a time exposed to +wave-action they are but little wasted as yet. In these regions the extension +of the sea effected by its own action in post-glacial time is scarcely +appreciable as compared with that effected by ice-action. +</p> + +<p> +Traces of the vanished glaciers made during the period of greater extension +abound on the Sierra as far south as latitude 36°. Even the polished rock +surfaces, the most evanescent of glacial records, are still found in a +wonderfully perfect state of preservation on the upper half of the middle +portion of the range, and form the most striking of all the glacial phenomena. +They occur in large irregular patches in the summit and middle regions, and +though they have been subjected to the action of the weather with its corroding +storms for thousands of years, their mechanical excellence is such that they +still reflect the sunbeams like glass, and attract the attention of every +observer. The attention of the mountaineer is seldom arrested by moraines, +however regular and high they may be, or by cañons, however deep, or by rocks, +however noble in form and sculpture; but he stoops and rubs his hands +admiringly on the shining surfaces and trios hard to account for their +mysterious smoothness. He has seen the snow descending in avalanches, but +concludes this cannot be the work of snow, for he finds it where no avalanches +occur. Nor can water have done it, for he sees this smoothness glowing on the +sides and tops of the highest domes. Only the winds of all the agents he knows +seem capable of flowing in the directions indicated by the scoring. Indians, +usually so little curious about geological phenomena, have come to me +occasionally and asked me, “What makeum the ground so smooth at Lake +Tenaya?” Even horses and dogs gaze wonderingly at the strange brightness +of the ground, and smell the polished spaces and place their feet cautiously on +them when they come to them for the first time, as if afraid of sinking. The +most perfect of the polished pavements and walls lie at an elevation of from +7000 to 9000 feet above the sea, where the rock is compact silicious granite. +Small dim patches may be found as low as 3000 feet on the driest and most +enduring portions of sheer walls with a southern exposure, and on compact +swelling bosses partially protected from rain by a covering of large boulders. +On the north half of the range the striated and polished surfaces are less +common, not only because this part of the chain is lower, but because the +surface rocks are chiefly porous lavas subject to comparatively rapid waste. +The ancient moraines also, though well preserved on most of the south half of +the range, are nearly obliterated to the northward, but then material is found +scattered and disintegrated. +</p> + +<p> +A similar blurred condition of the superficial records of glacial action +obtains throughout most of Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and Alaska, +due in great part to the action of excessive moisture. Even in southeastern +Alaska, where the most extensive glaciers on the continent are, the more +evanescent of the traces of their former greater extension, though +comparatively recent, are more obscure than those of the ancient California +glaciers whore the climate is drier and the rocks more resisting. +</p> + +<p> +These general views of the glaciers of the Pacific Coast will enable my readers +to see something of the changes that have taken place in California, and will +throw light on the residual glaciers of the High Sierra. +</p> + +<p> +Prior to the autumn of 1871 the glaciers of the Sierra were unknown. In October +of that year I discovered the Black Mountain Glacier in a shadowy amphitheater +between Black and Rod Mountains, two of the peaks of the Merced group. This +group is the highest portion of a spur that straggles out from the main axis of +the range in the direction of Yosemite Valley. At the time of this interesting +discovery I was exploring the <i>névé</i> amphitheaters of the group, and +tracing the courses of the ancient glaciers that once poured from its ample +fountains through the Illilouette Basin and the Yosemite Valley, not expecting +to find any active glaciers so far south in the land of sunshine. +</p> + +<p> +Beginning on the northwestern extremity of the group, I explored the chief +tributary basins in succession, their moraines, roches moutonnées, and splendid +glacier pavements, taking them in regular succession without any reference to +the time consumed in their study. The monuments of the tributary that poured +its ice from between Red and Black Mountains I found to be the most interesting +of them all; and when I saw its magnificent moraines extending in majestic +curves from the spacious amphitheater between the mountains, I was exhilarated +with the work that lay before me. It was one of the golden days of the Sierra +Indian summer, when the rich sunshine glorifies every landscape however rocky +and cold, and suggests anything rather than glaciers. The path of the vanished +glacier was warm now, and shone in many places as if washed with silver. The +tall pines growing on the moraines stood transfigured in the glowing light, the +poplar groves on the levels of the basin were masses of orange-yellow, and the +late-blooming goldenrods added gold to gold. Pushing on over my rosy glacial +highway, I passed lake after lake set in solid basins of granite, and many a +thicket and meadow watered by a stream that issues from the amphitheater and +links the lakes together; now wading through plushy bogs knee-deep in yellow +and purple sphagnum; now passing over bare rock. The main lateral moraines that +bounded the view on either hand are from 100 to nearly 200 feet high, and about +as regular as artificial embankments, and covered with a superb growth of +Silver Fir and Pine. But this garden and forest luxuriance was speedily left +behind. The trees were dwarfed as I ascended; patches of the alpine bryanthus +and cassiope began to appear, and arctic willows pressed into flat carpets by +the winter snow. The lakelets, which a few miles down the valley were so richly +embroidered with flowery meadows, had here, at an elevation of 10,000 feet, +only small brown mats of carex, leaving bare rocks around more than half their +shores. Yet amid this alpine suppression the Mountain Pine bravely tossed his +storm-beaten branches on the ledges and buttresses of Red Mountain, some +specimens being over 100 feet high, and 24 feet in circumference, seemingly as +fresh and vigorous as the giants of the lower zones. +</p> + +<p> +Evening came on just as I got fairly within the portal of the main +amphitheater. It is about a mile wide, and a little less than two miles long. +The crumbling spurs and battlements of Red Mountain bound it on the north, the +somber, rudely sculptured precipices of Black Mountain on the south, and a +hacked, splintery <i>col</i>, curving around from mountain to mountain, shuts +it in on the east. +</p> + +<p> +I chose a camping-ground on the brink of one of the lakes where a thicket of +Hemlock Spruce sheltered me from the night wind. Then, after making a +tin-cupful of tea, I sat by my camp-fire reflecting on the grandeur and +significance of the glacial records I had seen. As the night advanced the +mighty rock walls of my mountain mansion seemed to come nearer, while the +starry sky in glorious brightness stretched across like a ceiling from wall to +wall, and fitted closely down into all the spiky irregularities of the summits. +Then, after a long fireside rest and a glance at my note-book, I cut a few +leafy branches for a bed, and fell into the clear, death-like sleep of the +tired mountaineer. +</p> + +<p> +Early next morning I set out to trace the grand old glacier that had done so +much for the beauty of the Yosemite region back to its farthest fountains, +enjoying the charm that every explorer feels in Nature’s untrodden +wildernesses. The voices of the mountains were still asleep. The wind scarce +stirred the pine-needles. The sun was up, but it was yet too cold for the birds +and the few burrowing animals that dwell here. Only the stream, cascading from +pool to pool, seemed to be wholly awake. Yet the spirit of the opening day +called to action. The sunbeams came streaming gloriously through the jagged +openings of the <i>col</i>, glancing on the burnished pavements and lighting +the silvery lakes, while every sun-touched rock burned white on its edges like +melting iron in a furnace. Passing round the north shore of my camp lake I +followed the central stream past many cascades from lakelet to lakelet. The +scenery became more rigidly arctic, the Dwarf Pines and Hemlocks disappeared, +and the stream was bordered with icicles. As the sun rose higher rocks were +loosened on shattered portions of the cliffs, and came down in rattling +avalanches, echoing wildly from crag to crag. +</p> + +<p> +The main lateral moraines that extend from the jaws of the amphitheater into +the Illilouette Basin are continued in straggling masses along the walls of the +amphitheater, while separate boulders, hundreds of tons in weight, are left +stranded here and there out in the middle of the channel. Here, also, I +observed a series of small terminal moraines ranged along the south wall of the +amphitheater, corresponding in size and form with the shadows cast by the +highest portions. The meaning of this correspondence between moraines and +shadows was afterward made plain. Tracing the stream back to the last of its +chain of lakelets, I noticed a deposit of fine gray mud on the bottom except +where the force of the entering current had prevented its settling. It looked +like the mud worn from a grindstone, and I at once suspected its glacial +origin, for the stream that was carrying it came gurgling out of the base of a +raw moraine that seemed in process of formation. Not a plant or weather-stain +was visible on its rough, unsettled surface. It is from 60 to over 100 feet +high, and plunges forward at an angle of 38°. Cautiously picking my way, I +gained the top of the moraine and was delighted to see a small but well +characterized glacier swooping down from the gloomy precipices of Black +Mountain in a finely graduated curve to the moraine on which I stood. The +compact ice appeared on all the lower portions of the glacier, though gray with +dirt and stones embedded in it. Farther up the ice disappeared beneath coarse +granulated snow. The surface of the glacier was further characterized by dirt +bands and the outcropping edges of the blue veins, showing the laminated +structure of the ice. The uppermost crevasse, or “bergschrund,” +where the <i>névé</i> was attached to the mountain, was from 12 to 14 feet +wide, and was bridged in a few places by the remains of snow avalanches. +Creeping along the edge of the schrund, holding on with benumbed fingers, I +discovered clear sections where the bedded structure was beautifully revealed. +The surface snow, though sprinkled with stones shot down from the cliffs, was +in some places almost pure, gradually becoming crystalline and changing to +whitish porous ice of different shades of color, and this again changing at a +depth of 20 or 30 feet to blue ice, some of the ribbon-like bands of which were +nearly pure, and blended with the paler bands in the most gradual and delicate +manner imaginable. A series of rugged zigzags enabled me to make my way down +into the weird under-world of the crevasse. Its chambered hollows were hung +with a multitude of clustered icicles, amid which pale, subdued light pulsed +and shimmered with indescribable loveliness. Water dripped and tinkled +overhead, and from far below came strange, solemn murmurings from currents that +were feeling their way through veins and fissures in the dark. The chambers of +a glacier are perfectly enchanting, notwithstanding one feels out of place in +their frosty beauty. I was soon cold in my shirt-sleeves, and the leaning wall +threatened to engulf me; yet it was hard to leave the delicious music of the +water and the lovely light. Coming again to the surface, I noticed boulders of +every size on their journeys to the terminal moraine—journeys of more +than a hundred years, without a single stop, night or day, winter or summer. +</p> + +<p> +The sun gave birth to a network of sweet-voiced rills that ran gracefully down +the glacier, curling and swirling in their shining channels, and cutting clear +sections through the porous surface-ice into the solid blue, where the +structure of the glacier was beautifully illustrated. +</p> + +<p> +The series of small terminal moraines which I had observed in the morning, +along the south wall of the amphitheater, correspond in every way with the +moraine of this glacier, and their distribution with reference to shadows was +now understood. When the climatic changes came on that caused the melting and +retreat of the main glacier that filled the amphitheater, a series of residual +glaciers were left in the cliff shadows, under the protection of which they +lingered, until they formed the moraines we are studying. Then, as the snow +became still less abundant, all of them vanished in succession, except the one +just described; and the cause of its longer life is sufficiently apparent in +the greater area of snow-basin it drains, and its more perfect protection from +wasting sunshine. How much longer this little glacier will last depends, of +course, on the amount of snow it receives from year to year, as compared with +melting waste. +</p> + +<p> +After this discovery, I made excursions over all the High Sierra, pushing my +explorations summer after summer, and discovered that what at first sight in +the distance looked like extensive snow-fields, wore in great part glaciers, +busily at work completing the sculpture of the summit-peaks so grandly blocked +out by their giant predecessors. +</p> + +<p> +On August 21, I set a series of stakes in the Maclure Glacier, near Mount +Lyell, and found its rate of motion to be little more than an inch a day in the +middle, showing a great contrast to the Muir Glacier in Alaska, which, near the +front, flows at a rate of from five to ten feet in twenty-four hours. Mount +Shasta has three glaciers, but Mount Whitney, although it is the highest +mountain in the range, does not now cherish a single glacier. Small patches of +lasting snow and ice occur on its northern slopes, but they are shallow, and +present no well marked evidence of glacial motion. Its sides, however, are +scored and polished in many places by the action of its ancient glaciers that +flowed east and west as tributaries of the great glaciers that once filled the +valleys of the Kern and Owen’s rivers. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III<br/> +THE SNOW</h2> + +<p> +The first snow that whitens the Sierra, usually falls about the end of October +or early in November, to a depth of a few inches, after months of the most +charming Indian summer weather imaginable. But in a few days, this light +covering mostly melts from the slopes exposed to the sun and causes but little +apprehension on the part of mountaineers who may be lingering among the high +peaks at this time. The first general winter storm that yields snow that is to +form a lasting portion of the season’s supply, seldom breaks on the +mountains before the end of November. Then, warned by the sky, cautions +mountaineers, together with the wild sheep, deer, and most of the birds and +bears, make haste to the lowlands or foot-hills; and burrowing marmots, +mountain beavers, wood-rats, and such people go into winter quarters, some of +them not again to see the light of day until the general awakening and +resurrection of the spring in June or July. The first heavy fall is usually +from about two to four feet in depth. Then, with intervals of splendid +sunshine, storm succeeds storm, heaping snow on snow, until thirty to fifty +feet has fallen. But on account of its settling and compacting, and the almost +constant waste from melting and evaporation, the average depth actually found +at any time seldom exceeds ten feet in the forest region, or fifteen feet along +the slopes of the summit peaks. +</p> + +<p> +Even during the coldest weather evaporation never wholly ceases, and the +sunshine that abounds between the storms is sufficiently powerful to melt the +surface more or less through all the winter months. Waste from melting also +goes on to some extent on the bottom from heat stored up in the rocks, and +given off slowly to the snow in contact with them, as is shown by the rising of +the streams on all the higher regions after the first snowfall, and their +steady sustained flow all winter. +</p> + +<p> +The greater portion of the snow deposited around the lofty summits of the range +falls in small crisp flakes and broken crystals, or, when accompanied by strong +winds and low temperature, the crystals, instead of being locked together in +their fall to form tufted flakes, are beaten and broken into meal and fine +dust. But down in the forest region the greater portion comes gently to the +ground, light and feathery, some of the flakes in mild weather being nearly an +inch in diameter, and it is evenly distributed and kept from drifting to any +great extent by the shelter afforded by the large trees. Every tree during the +progress of gentle storms is loaded with, fairy bloom at the coldest and +darkest time of year, bending the branches, and hushing every singing needle. +But as soon as the storm is over, and the sun shines, the snow at once begins +to shift and settle and fall from the branches in miniature avalanches, and the +white forest soon becomes green again. The snow on the ground also settles and +thaws every bright day, and freezes at night, until it becomes coarsely +granulated, and loses every trace of its rayed crystalline structure, and then +a man may walk firmly over its frozen surface as if on ice. The forest region +up to an elevation of 7000 feet is usually in great part free from snow in +June, but at this time the higher regions are still heavy-laden, and are not +touched by spring weather to any considerable extent before the middle or end +of July. +</p> + +<p> +One of the most striking effects of the snow on the mountains is the burial of +the rivers and small lakes. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +As the snow fa’s in the river<br/> +A moment white, then lost forever, +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +sang Burns, in illustrating the fleeting character of human pleasure. The first +snowflakes that fall into the Sierra rivers vanish thus suddenly; but in great +storms, when the temperature is low, the abundance of the snow at length chills +the water nearly to the freezing-point, and then, of course, it ceases to melt +and consume the snow so suddenly. The falling flakes and crystals form, +cloud-like masses of blue sludge, which are swept forward with the current and +carried down to warmer climates many miles distant, while some are lodged +against logs and rocks and projecting points of the banks, and last for days, +piled high above the level of the water, and show white again, instead of being +at once “lost forever,” while the rivers themselves are at length +lost for months during the snowy period. The snow is first built out from the +banks in bossy, over-curling drifts, compacting and cementing until the streams +are spanned. They then flow in the dark beneath a continuous covering across +the snowy zone, which is about thirty miles wide. All the Sierra rivers and +their tributaries in these high regions are thus lost every winter, as if +another glacial period had come on. Not a drop of running water is to be seen +excepting at a few points where large falls occur, though the rush and rumble +of the heavier currents may still be heard. Toward spring, when the weather is +warm during the day and frosty at night, repeated thawing and freezing and new +layers of snow render the bridging-masses dense and firm, so that one may +safely walk across the streams, or even lead a horse across them without danger +of falling through. In June the thinnest parts of the winter ceiling, and those +most exposed to sunshine, begin to give way, forming dark, rugged-edged, +pit-like sinks, at the bottom of which the rushing water may be seen. At the +end of June only here and there may the mountaineer find a secure snow-bridge. +The most lasting of the winter bridges, thawing from below as well as from +above, because of warm currents of air passing through the tunnels, are +strikingly arched and sculptured; and by the occasional freezing of the oozing, +dripping water of the ceiling they become brightly and picturesquely icy. In +some of the reaches, where there is a free margin, we may walk through them. +Small skylights appearing here and there, these tunnels are not very dark. The +roaring river fills all the arching way with impressively loud reverberating +music, which is sweetened at times by the ouzel, a bird that is not afraid to +go wherever a stream may go, and to sing wherever a stream sings. +</p> + +<p> +All the small alpine pools and lakelets are in like manner obliterated from the +winter landscapes, either by being first frozen and then covered by snow, or by +being filled in by avalanches. The first avalanche of the season shot into a +lake basin may perhaps find the surface frozen. Then there is a grand crashing +of breaking ice and dashing of waves mingled with the low, deep booming of the +avalanche. Detached masses of the invading snow, mixed with fragments of ice, +drift about in sludgy, island-like heaps, while the main body of it forms a +talus with its base wholly or in part resting on the bottom of the basin, as +controlled by its depth and the size of the avalanche. The next avalanche, of +course, encroaches still farther, and so on with each in succession until the +entire basin may be filled and its water sponged up or displaced. This huge +mass of sludge, more or less mixed with sand, stones, and perhaps timber, is +frozen to a considerable depth, and much sun-heat is required to thaw it. Some +of these unfortunate lakelets are not clear of ice and snow until near the end +of summer. Others are never quite free, opening only on the side opposite the +entrance of the avalanches. Some show only a narrow crescent of water lying +between the shore and sheer bluffs of icy compacted snow, masses of which +breaking off float in front like icebergs in a miniature Arctic Ocean, while +the avalanche heaps leaning back against the mountains look like small +glaciers. The frontal cliffs are in some instances quite picturesque, and with +the berg-dotted waters in front of them lighted with sunshine are exceedingly +beautiful. It often happens that while one side of a lake basin is hopelessly +snow-buried and frozen, the other, enjoying sunshine, is adorned with beautiful +flower-gardens. Some of the smaller lakes are extinguished in an instant by a +heavy avalanche either of rocks or snow. The rolling, sliding, ponderous mass +entering on one side sweeps across the bottom and up the opposite side, +displacing the water and even scraping the basin clean, and shoving the +accumulated rocks and sediments up the farther bank and taking full possession. +The dislodged water is in part absorbed, but most of it is sent around the +front of the avalanche and down the channel of the outlet, roaring and hurrying +as if frightened and glad to escape. +</p> + +<h4>SNOW-BANNERS</h4> + +<p> +The most magnificent storm phenomenon I ever saw, surpassing in showy grandeur +the most imposing effects of clouds, floods, or avalanches, was the peaks of +the High Sierra, back of Yosemite Valley, decorated with snow-banners. Many of +the starry snow-flowers, out of which these banners are made, fall before they +are ripe, while most of those that do attain perfect development as six-rayed +crystals glint and chafe against one another in their fall through the frosty +air, and are broken into fragments. This dry fragmentary snow is still further +prepared for the formation of banners by the action of the wind. For, instead +of finding rest at once, like the snow which falls into the tranquil depths of +the forests, it is rolled over and over, beaten against rock-ridges, and +swirled in pits and hollows, like boulders, pebbles, and sand in the pot-holes +of a river, until finally the delicate angles of the crystals are worn off, and +the whole mass is reduced to dust. And whenever storm-winds find this prepared +snow-dust in a loose condition on exposed slopes, where there is a free upward +sweep to leeward, it is tossed back into the sky, and borne onward from peak to +peak in the form of banners or cloudy drifts, according to the velocity of the +wind and the conformation of the slopes up or around which it is driven. While +thus flying through the air, a small portion makes good its escape, and remains +in the sky as vapor. But far the greater part, after being driven into the sky +again and again, is at length locked fast in bossy drifts, or in the wombs of +glaciers, some of it to remain silent and rigid for centuries before it is +finally melted and sent singing down the mountainsides to the sea. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, notwithstanding the abundance of winter snow-dust in the mountains, and +the frequency of high winds, and the length of time the dust remains loose and +exposed to their action, the occurrence of well-formed banners is, for causes +we shall hereafter note, comparatively rare. I have seen only one display of +this kind that seemed in every way perfect. This was in the winter of 1873, +when the snow-laden summits were swept by a wild “norther.” I +happened at the time to be wintering in Yosemite Valley, that sublime Sierra +temple where every day one may see the grandest sights. Yet even here the wild +gala-day of the north wind seemed surpassingly glorious. I was awakened in the +morning by the rocking of my cabin and the beating of pine-burs on the roof. +Detached torrents and avalanches from the main wind-flood overhead were rushing +wildly down the narrow side cañons, and over the precipitous walls, with loud +resounding roar, rousing the pines to enthusiastic action, and making the whole +valley vibrate as though it were an instrument being played. +</p> + +<p> +But afar on the lofty exposed peaks of the range standing so high in the sky, +the storm was expressing itself in still grander characters, which I was soon +to see in all their glory. I had long been anxious to study some points in the +structure of the ice-cone that is formed every winter at the foot of the upper +Yosemite fall, but the blinding spray by which it is invested had hitherto +prevented me from making a sufficiently near approach. This morning the entire +body of the fall was torn into gauzy shreds, and blown horizontally along the +face of the cliff, leaving the cone dry; and while making my way to the top of +an overlooking ledge to seize so favorable an opportunity to examine the +interior of the cone, the peaks of the Merced group came in sight over the +shoulder of the South Dome, each waving a resplendent banner against the blue +sky, as regular in form, and as firm in texture, as if woven of fine silk. So +rare and splendid a phenomenon, of course, overbore all other considerations, +and I at once let the ice-cone go, and began to force my way out of the valley +to some dome or ridge sufficiently lofty to command a general view of the main +summits, feeling assured that I should find them bannered still more +gloriously; nor was I in the least disappointed. Indian Cañon, through which I +climbed, was choked with snow that had been shot down in avalanches from the +high cliffs on either side, rendering the ascent difficult; but inspired by the +roaring storm, the tedious wallowing brought no fatigue, and in four hours I +gained the top of a ridge above the valley, 8000 feet high. And there in bold +relief, like a clear painting, appeared a most imposing scene. Innumerable +peaks, black and sharp, rose grandly into the dark blue sky, their bases set in +solid white, their sides streaked and splashed with snow, like ocean rocks with +foam; and from every summit, all free and unconfused, was streaming a beautiful +silky silvery banner, from half a mile to a mile in length, slender at the +point of attachment, then widening gradually as it extended from the peak until +it was about 1000 or 1500 feet in breadth, as near as I could estimate. The +cluster of peaks called the “Crown of the Sierra,” at the head of +the Merced and Tuolumne rivers,—Mounts Dana, Gibbs, Conness, Lyell, +Maclure, Ritter, with their nameless compeers,—each had its own refulgent +banner, waving with a clearly visible motion in the sunglow, and there was not +a single cloud in the sky to mar their simple grandeur. Fancy yourself standing +on this Yosemite ridge looking eastward. You notice a strange garish glitter in +the air. The gale drives wildly overhead with a fierce, tempestuous roar, but +its violence is not felt, for you are looking through a sheltered opening in +the woods as through a window. There, in the immediate foreground of your +picture, rises a majestic forest of Silver Fir blooming in eternal freshness, +the foliage yellow-green, and the snow beneath the trees strewn with their +beautiful plumes, plucked off by the wind. Beyond, and extending over all the +middle ground, are somber swaths of pine, interrupted by huge swelling ridges +and domes; and just beyond the dark forest you see the monarchs of the High +Sierra waving their magnificent banners. They are twenty miles away, but you +would not wish them nearer, for every feature is distinct, and the whole +glorious show is seen in its right proportions. After this general view, mark +how sharply the dark snowless ribs and buttresses and summits of the peaks are +defined, excepting the portions veiled by the banners, and how delicately their +sides are streaked with snow, where it has come to rest in narrow flutings and +gorges. Mark, too, how grandly the banners wave as the wind is deflected +against their sides, and how trimly each is attached to the very summit of its +peak, like a streamer at a masthead; how smooth and silky they are in texture, +and how finely their fading fringes are penciled on the azure sky. See how +dense and opaque they are at the point of attachment, and how filmy and +translucent toward the end, so that the peaks back of them are seen dimly, as +though you were looking through ground glass. Yet again observe how some of the +longest, belonging to the loftiest summits, stream perfectly free all the way +across intervening notches and passes from peak to peak, while others overlap +and partly hide each other. And consider how keenly every particle of this +wondrous cloth of snow is flashing out jets of light. These are the main +features of the beautiful and terrible picture as seen from the forest window; +and it would still be surpassingly glorious were the fore- and middle-grounds +obliterated altogether, leaving only the black peaks, the white banners, and +the blue sky. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus08"></a> +<img src="images/img08.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="KOLANA ROCK" /> +<p class="caption">KOLANA ROCK, HETCH-HETCHY VALLEY</p> +</div> + +<p> +Glancing now in a general way at the formation of snow-banners, we find that +the main causes of the wondrous beauty and perfection of those we have been +contemplating were the favorable direction and great force of the wind, the +abundance of snow-dust, and the peculiar conformation of the slopes of the +peaks. It is essential not only that the wind should move with great velocity +and steadiness to supply a sufficiently copious and continuous stream of +snow-dust, but that it should come from the north. No perfect banner is ever +hung on the Sierra peaks by a south wind. Had the gale that day blown from the +south, leaving other conditions unchanged, only a dull, confused, fog-like +drift would have been produced; for the snow, instead of being spouted up over +the tops of the peaks in concentrated currents to be drawn out as streamers, +would have been shed off around the sides, and piled down into the glacier +wombs. The cause of the concentrated action of the north wind is found in the +peculiar form of the north sides of the peaks, where the amphitheaters of the +residual glaciers are. In general the south sides are convex and irregular, +while the north sides are concave both in their vertical and horizontal +sections; the wind in ascending these curves converges toward the summits, +carrying the snow in concentrating currents with it, shooting it almost +straight up into the air above the peaks, from which it is then carried away in +a horizontal direction. +</p> + +<p> +This difference in form between the north and south sides of the peaks was +almost wholly produced by the difference in the kind and quantity of the +glaciation to which they have been subjected, the north sides having been +hollowed by residual shadow-glaciers of a form that never existed on the +sun-beaten sides. +</p> + +<p> +It appears, therefore, that shadows in great part determine not only the forms +of lofty icy mountains, but also those of the snow-banners that the wild winds +hang on them. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV<br/> +A NEAR VIEW OF THE HIGH SIERRA</h2> + +<p> +Early one bright morning in the middle of Indian summer, while the glacier +meadows were still crisp with frost crystals, I set out from the foot of Mount +Lyell, on my way down to Yosemite Valley, to replenish my exhausted store of +bread and tea. I had spent the past summer, as many preceding ones, exploring +the glaciers that lie on the head waters of the San Joaquin, Tuolumne, Merced, +and Owen’s rivers; measuring and studying their movements, trends, +crevasses, moraines, etc., and the part they had played during the period of +their greater extension in the creation and development of the landscapes of +this alpine wonderland. The time for this kind of work was nearly over for the +year, and I began to look forward with delight to the approaching winter with +its wondrous storms, when I would be warmly snow-bound in my Yosemite cabin +with plenty of bread and books; but a tinge of regret came on when I considered +that possibly I might not see this favorite region again until the next summer, +excepting distant views from the heights about the Yosemite walls. +</p> + +<p> +To artists, few portions of the High Sierra are, strictly speaking, +picturesque. The whole massive uplift of the range is one great picture, not +clearly divisible into smaller ones; differing much in this respect from the +older, and what may be called, riper mountains of the Coast Range. All the +landscapes of the Sierra, as we have seen, were born again, remodeled from base +to summit by the developing ice-floods of the last glacial winter. But all +those new landscapes were not brought forth simultaneously; some of the +highest, where the ice lingered longest, are tens of centuries younger than +those of the warmer regions below them. In general, the younger the +mountain-landscapes,—younger, I mean, with reference to the time of their +emergence from the ice of the glacial period,—the less separable are they +into artistic bits capable of being made into warm, sympathetic, lovable +pictures with appreciable humanity in them. +</p> + +<p> +Here, however, on the head waters of the Tuolumne, is a group of wild peaks on +which the geologist may say that the sun has but just begun to shine, which is +yet in a high degree picturesque, and in its main features so regular and +evenly balanced as almost to appear conventional—one somber cluster of +snow-laden peaks with gray pine-fringed granite bosses braided around its base, +the whole surging free into the sky from the head of a magnificent valley, +whose lofty walls are beveled away on both sides so as to embrace it all +without admitting anything not strictly belonging to it. The foreground was now +aflame with autumn colors, brown and purple and gold, ripe in the mellow +sunshine; contrasting brightly with the deep, cobalt blue of the sky, and the +black and gray, and pure, spiritual white of the rocks and glaciers. Down +through the midst, the young Tuolumne was seen pouring from its crystal +fountains, now resting in glassy pools as if changing back again into ice, now +leaping in white cascades as if turning to snow; gliding right and left between +granite bosses, then sweeping on through the smooth, meadowy levels of the +valley, swaying pensively from side to side with calm, stately gestures past +dipping willows and sedges, and around groves of arrowy pine; and throughout +its whole eventful course, whether flowing fast or slow, singing loud or low, +ever filling the landscape with spiritual animation, and manifesting the +grandeur of its sources in every movement and tone. +</p> + +<p> +Pursuing my lonely way down the valley, I turned again and again to gaze on the +glorious picture, throwing up my arms to inclose it as in a frame. After long +ages of growth in the darkness beneath the glaciers, through sunshine and +storms, it seemed now to be ready and waiting for the elected artist, like +yellow wheat for the reaper; and I could not help wishing that I might carry +colors and brushes with me on my travels, and learn to paint. In the mean time +I had to be content with photographs on my mind and sketches in my note-books. +At length, after I had rounded a precipitous headland that puts out from the +west wall of the valley, every peak vanished from sight, and I pushed rapidly +along the frozen meadows, over the divide between the waters of the Merced and +Tuolumne, and down through the forests that clothe the slopes of Cloud’s +Rest, arriving in Yosemite in due time—which, with me, is <i>any</i> +time. And, strange to say, among the first people I met here were two artists +who, with letters of introduction, were awaiting my return. They inquired +whether in the course of my explorations in the adjacent mountains I had ever +come upon a landscape suitable for a large painting; whereupon I began a +description of the one that had so lately excited my admiration. Then, as I +went on further and further into details, their faces began to glow, and I +offered to guide them to it, while they declared that they would gladly follow, +far or near, whithersoever I could spare the time to lead them. +</p> + +<p> +Since storms might come breaking down through the fine weather at any time, +burying the colors in snow, and cutting off the artists’ retreat, I +advised getting ready at once. +</p> + +<p> +I led them out of the valley by the Vernal and Nevada Falls, thence over the +main dividing ridge to the Big Tuolumne Meadows, by the old Mono trail, and +thence along the upper Tuolumne River to its head. This was my +companions’ first excursion into the High Sierra, and as I was almost +always alone in my mountaineering, the way that the fresh beauty was reflected +in their faces made for me a novel and interesting study. They naturally were +affected most of all by the colors—the intense azure of the sky, the +purplish grays of the granite, the red and browns of dry meadows, and the +translucent purple and crimson of huckleberry bogs; the flaming yellow of aspen +groves, the silvery flashing of the streams, and the bright green and blue of +the glacier lakes. But the general expression of the scenery—rocky and +savage—seemed sadly disappointing; and as they threaded the forest from +ridge to ridge, eagerly scanning the landscapes as they were unfolded, they +said: “All this is huge and sublime, but we see nothing as yet at all +available for effective pictures. Art is long, and art is limited, you know; +and here are foregrounds, middle-grounds, backgrounds, all alike; bare +rock-waves, woods, groves, diminutive flecks of meadow, and strips of +glittering water.” “Never mind,” I replied, “only bide +a wee, and I will show you something you will like.” +</p> + +<p> +At length, toward the end of the second day, the Sierra Crown began to come +into view, and when we had fairly rounded the projecting headland before +mentioned, the whole picture stood revealed in the flush of the alpenglow. +Their enthusiasm was excited beyond bounds, and the more impulsive of the two, +a young Scotchman, dashed ahead, shouting and gesticulating and tossing his +arms in the air like a madman. Here, at last, was a typical alpine landscape. +</p> + +<p> +After feasting awhile on the view, I proceeded to make camp in a sheltered +grove a little way back from the meadow, where pine-boughs could be obtained +for beds, and where there was plenty of dry wood for fires, while the artists +ran here and there, along the river-bends and up the sides of the cañon, +choosing foregrounds for sketches. After dark, when our tea was made and a +rousing fire had been built, we began to make our plans. They decided to remain +several days, at the least, while I concluded to make an excursion in the mean +time to the untouched summit of Ritter. +</p> + +<p> +It was now about the middle of October, the springtime of snow-flowers. The +first winter-clouds had already bloomed, and the peaks were strewn with fresh +crystals, without, however, affecting the climbing to any dangerous extent. And +as the weather was still profoundly calm, and the distance to the foot of the +mountain only a little more than a day, I felt that I was running no great risk +of being storm-bound. +</p> + +<p> +Mount Ritter is king of the mountains of the middle portion of the High Sierra, +as Shasta of the north and Whitney of the south sections. Moreover, as far as I +know, it had never been climbed. I had explored the adjacent wilderness summer +after summer, but my studies thus far had never drawn me to the top of it. Its +height above sea-level is about 13,300 feet, and it is fenced round by steeply +inclined glaciers, and cañons of tremendous depth and ruggedness, which render +it almost inaccessible. But difficulties of this kind only exhilarate the +mountaineer. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning, the artists went heartily to their work and I to mine. Former +experiences had given good reason to know that passionate storms, invisible as +yet, might be brooding in the calm sun-gold; therefore, before bidding +farewell, I warned the artists not to be alarmed should I fail to appear before +a week or ten days, and advised them, in case a snow-storm should set in, to +keep up big fires and shelter themselves as best they could, and on no account +to become frightened and attempt to seek their way back to Yosemite alone +through the drifts. +</p> + +<p> +My general plan was simply this: to scale the cañon, wall, cross over to the +eastern flank of the range, and then make my way southward to the northern +spurs of Mount Ritter in compliance with the intervening topography; for to +push on directly southward from camp through the innumerable peaks and +pinnacles that adorn this portion of the axis of the range, however +interesting, would take too much time, besides being extremely difficult and +dangerous at this time of year. +</p> + +<p> +All my first day was pure pleasure; simply mountaineering indulgence, crossing +the dry pathways of the ancient glaciers, tracing happy streams, and learning +the habits of the birds and marmots in the groves and rocks. Before I had gone +a mile from camp, I came to the foot of a white cascade that beats its way down +a rugged gorge in the cañon wall, from a height of about nine hundred feet, and +pours its throbbing waters into the Tuolumne. I was acquainted with its +fountains, which, fortunately, lay in my course. What a fine traveling +companion it proved to be, what songs it sang, and how passionately it told the +mountain’s own joy! Gladly I climbed along its dashing border, absorbing +its divine music, and bathing from time to time in waftings of irised spray. +Climbing higher, higher, now beauty came streaming on the sight: painted +meadows, late-blooming gardens, peaks of rare architecture, lakes here and +there, shining like silver, and glimpses of the forested middle region and the +yellow lowlands far in the west. Beyond the range I saw the so-called Mono +Desert, lying dreamily silent in thick purple light—a desert of heavy +sun-glare beheld from a desert of ice-burnished granite. Here the waters +divide, shouting in glorious enthusiasm, and falling eastward to vanish in the +volcanic sands and dry sky of the Great Basin, or westward to the Great Valley +of California, and thence through the Bay of San Francisco and the Golden Gate +to the sea. +</p> + +<p> +Passing a little way down over the summit until I had reached an elevation of +about 10,000 feet, I pushed on southward toward a group of savage peaks that +stand guard about Ritter on the north and west, groping my way, and dealing +instinctively with every obstacle as it presented itself. Here a huge gorge +would be found cutting across my path, along the dizzy edge of which I +scrambled until some less precipitous point was discovered where I might safely +venture to the bottom and then, selecting some feasible portion of the opposite +wall, reascend with the same slow caution. Massive, flat-topped spurs alternate +with the gorges, plunging abruptly from the shoulders of the snowy peaks, and +planting their feet in the warm desert. These were everywhere marked and +adorned with characteristic sculptures of the ancient glaciers that swept over +this entire region like one vast ice-wind, and the polished surfaces produced +by the ponderous flood are still so perfectly preserved that in many places the +sunlight reflected from them is about as trying to the eyes as sheets of snow. +</p> + +<p> +God’s glacial-mills grind slowly, but they have been kept in motion long +enough in California to grind sufficient soil for a glorious abundance of life, +though most of the grist has been carried to the lowlands, leaving these high +regions comparatively lean and bare; while the post-glacial agents of erosion +have not yet furnished sufficient available food over the general surface for +more than a few tufts of the hardiest plants, chiefly carices and eriogonae. +And it is interesting to learn in this connection that the sparseness and +repressed character of the vegetation at this height is caused more by want of +soil than by harshness of climate; for, here and there, in sheltered hollows +(countersunk beneath the general surface) into which a few rods of well-ground +moraine chips have been dumped, we find groves of spruce and pine thirty to +forty feet high, trimmed around the edges with willow and huckleberry bushes, +and oftentimes still further by an outer ring of tall grasses, bright with +lupines, larkspurs, and showy columbines, suggesting a climate by no means +repressingly severe. All the streams, too, and the pools at this elevation are +furnished with little gardens wherever soil can be made to lie, which, though +making scarce any show at a distance, constitute charming surprises to the +appreciative observer. In these bits of leanness a few birds find grateful +homes. Having no acquaintance with man, they fear no ill, and flock curiously +about the stranger, almost allowing themselves to be taken in the hand. In so +wild and so beautiful a region was spent my first day, every sight and sound +inspiring, leading one far out of himself, yet feeding and building up his +individuality. +</p> + +<p> +Now came the solemn, silent evening. Long, blue, spiky shadows crept out across +the snow-fields, while a rosy glow, at first scarce discernible, gradually +deepened and suffused every mountain-top, flushing the glaciers and the harsh +crags above them. This was the alpenglow, to me one of the most impressive of +all the terrestrial manifestations of God. At the touch of this divine light, +the mountains seemed to kindle to a rapt, religious consciousness, and stood +hushed and waiting like devout worshipers. Just before the alpenglow began to +fade, two crimson clouds came streaming across the summit like wings of flame, +rendering the sublime scene yet more impressive; then came darkness and the +stars. +</p> + +<p> +Icy Ritter was still miles away, but I could proceed no farther that night. I +found a good campground on the rim of a glacier basin about 11,000 feet above +the sea. A small lake nestles in the bottom of it, from which I got water for +my tea, and a storm-beaten thicket near by furnished abundance of resiny +fire-wood. Somber peaks, hacked and shattered, circled half-way around the +horizon, wearing a savage aspect in the gloaming, and a waterfall chanted +solemnly across the lake on its way down from the foot of a glacier. The fall +and the lake and the glacier were almost equally bare; while the scraggy pines +anchored in the rock-fissures were so dwarfed and shorn by storm-winds that you +might walk over their tops. In tone and aspect the scene was one of the most +desolate I ever beheld. But the darkest scriptures of the mountains are +illumined with bright passages of love that never fail to make themselves felt +when one is alone. +</p> + +<p> +I made my bed in a nook of the pine-thicket, where the branches were pressed +and crinkled overhead like a roof, and bent down around the sides. These are +the best bedchambers the high mountains afford—snug as squirrel-nests, +well ventilated, full of spicy odors, and with plenty of wind-played needles to +sing one asleep. I little expected company, but, creeping in through a low +side-door, I found five or six birds nestling among the tassels. The night-wind +began to blow soon after dark; at first only a gentle breathing, but increasing +toward midnight to a rough gale that fell upon my leafy roof in ragged surges +like a cascade, bearing wild sounds from the crags overhead. The waterfall sang +in chorus, filling the old ice-fountain with its solemn roar, and seeming to +increase in power as the night advanced—fit voice for such a landscape. I +had to creep out many times to the fire during the night, for it was biting +cold and I had no blankets. Gladly I welcomed the morning star. +</p> + +<p> +The dawn in the dry, wavering air of the desert was glorious. Everything +encouraged my undertaking and betokened success. There was no cloud in the sky, +no storm-tone in the wind. Breakfast of bread and tea was soon made. I fastened +a hard, durable crust to my belt by way of provision, in case I should be +compelled to pass a night on the mountain-top; then, securing the remainder of +my little stock against wolves and wood-rats, I set forth free and hopeful. +</p> + +<p> +How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains! To behold this alone is +worth the pains of any excursion a thousand times over. The highest peaks +burned like islands in a sea of liquid shade. Then the lower peaks and spires +caught the glow, and long lances of light, streaming through many a notch and +pass, fell thick on the frozen meadows. The majestic form of Ritter was full in +sight, and I pushed rapidly on over rounded rock-bosses and pavements, my +iron-shod shoes making a clanking sound, suddenly hushed now and then in rugs +of bryanthus, and sedgy lake-margins soft as moss. Here, too, in this so-called +“land of desolation,” I met cassiope, growing in fringes among the +battered rocks. Her blossoms had faded long ago, but they were still clinging +with happy memories to the evergreen sprays, and still so beautiful as to +thrill every fiber of one’s being. Winter and summer, you may hear her +voice, the low, sweet melody of her purple bells. No evangel among all the +mountain plants speaks Nature’s love more plainly than cassiope. Where +she dwells, the redemption of the coldest solitude is complete. The very rocks +and glaciers seem to feel her presence, and become imbued with her own fountain +sweetness. All things were warming and awakening. Frozen rills began to flow, +the marmots came out of their nests in boulder-piles and climbed sunny rocks to +bask, and the dun-headed sparrows were flitting about seeking their breakfasts. +The lakes seen from every ridge-top were brilliantly rippled and spangled, +shimmering like the thickets of the low Dwarf Pines. The rocks, too, seemed +responsive to the vital heat—rock-crystals and snow-crystals thrilling +alike. I strode on exhilarated, as if never more to feel fatigue, limbs moving +of themselves, every sense unfolding like the thawing flowers, to take part in +the new day harmony. +</p> + +<p> +All along my course thus far, excepting when down in the cañons, the landscapes +were mostly open to me, and expansive, at least on one side. On the left were +the purple plains of Mono, reposing dreamily and warm; on the right, the near +peaks springing keenly into the thin sky with more and more impressive +sublimity. But these larger views were at length lost. Rugged spurs, and +moraines, and huge, projecting buttresses began to shut me in. Every feature +became more rigidly alpine, without, however, producing any chilling effect; +for going to the mountains is like going home. We always find that the +strangest objects in these fountain wilds are in some degree familiar, and we +look upon them with a vague sense of having seen them before. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus09"></a> +<img src="images/img09.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="GENERAL GRANT TREE" /> +<p class="caption">GENERAL GRANT TREE, GENERAL GRANT NATIONAL PARK</p> +</div> + +<p> +On the southern shore of a frozen lake, I encountered an extensive field of +hard, granular snow, up which I scampered in fine tone, intending to follow it +to its head, and cross the rocky spur against which it leans, hoping thus to +come direct upon the base of the main Ritter peak. The surface was pitted with +oval hollows, made by stones and drifted pine-needles that had melted +themselves into the mass by the radiation of absorbed sun-heat. These afforded +good footholds, but the surface curved more and more steeply at the head, and +the pits became shallower and less abundant, until I found myself in danger of +being shed off like avalanching snow. I persisted, however, creeping on all +fours, and shuffling up the smoothest places on my back, as I had often done on +burnished granite, until, after slipping several times, I was compelled to +retrace my course to the bottom, and make my way around the west end of the +lake, and thence up to the summit of the divide between the head waters of Rush +Creek and the northernmost tributaries of the San Joaquin. +</p> + +<p> +Arriving on the summit of this dividing crest, one of the most exciting pieces +of pure wilderness was disclosed that I ever discovered in all my +mountaineering. There, immediately in front, loomed the majestic mass of Mount +Ritter, with a glacier swooping down its face nearly to my feet, then curving +westward and pouring its frozen flood into a dark blue lake, whose shores were +bound with precipices of crystalline snow; while a deep chasm drawn between the +divide and the glacier separated the massive picture from everything else. I +could see only the one sublime mountain, the one glacier, the one lake; the +whole veiled with one blue shadow—rock, ice, and water close together +without a single leaf or sign of life. After gazing spellbound, I began +instinctively to scrutinize every notch and gorge and weathered buttress of the +mountain, with reference to making the ascent. The entire front above the +glacier appeared as one tremendous precipice, slightly receding at the top, and +bristling with spires and pinnacles set above one another in formidable array. +Massive lichen-stained battlements stood forward here and there, hacked at the +top with angular notches, and separated by frosty gullies and recesses that +have been veiled in shadow ever since their creation; while to right and left, +as far as I could see, were huge, crumbling buttresses, offering no hope to the +climber. The head of the glacier sends up a few finger-like branches through +narrow <i>couloirs</i>; but these seemed too steep and short to be available, +especially as I had no ax with which to cut steps, and the numerous +narrow-throated gullies down which stones and snow are avalanched seemed +hopelessly steep, besides being interrupted by vertical cliffs; while the whole +front was rendered still more terribly forbidding by the chill shadow and the +gloomy blackness of the rocks. +</p> + +<p> +Descending the divide in a hesitating mood, I picked my way across the yawning +chasm at the foot, and climbed out upon the glacier. There were no meadows now +to cheer with their brave colors, nor could I hear the dun-headed sparrows, +whose cheery notes so often relieve the silence of our highest mountains. The +only sounds were the gurgling of small rills down in the veins and crevasses of +the glacier, and now and then the rattling report of falling stones, with the +echoes they shot out into the crisp air. +</p> + +<p> +I could not distinctly hope to reach the summit from this side, yet I moved on +across the glacier as if driven by fate. Contending with myself, the season is +too far spent, I said, and even should I be successful, I might be storm-bound +on the mountain; and in the cloud-darkness, with the cliffs and crevasses +covered with snow, how could I escape? No; I must wait till next summer. I +would only approach the mountain now, and inspect it, creep about its flanks, +learn what I could of its history, holding myself ready to flee on the approach +of the first storm-cloud. But we little know until tried how much of the +uncontrollable there is in us, urging across glaciers and torrents, and up +dangerous heights, let the judgment forbid as it may. +</p> + +<p> +I succeeded in gaining the foot of the cliff on the eastern extremity of the +glacier, and there discovered the mouth of a narrow avalanche gully, through +which I began to climb, intending to follow it as far as possible, and at least +obtain some fine wild views for my pains. Its general course is oblique to the +plane of the mountain-face, and the metamorphic slates of which the mountain is +built are cut by cleavage planes in such a way that they weather off in angular +blocks, giving rise to irregular steps that greatly facilitate climbing on the +sheer places. I thus made my way into a wilderness of crumbling spires and +battlements, built together in bewildering combinations, and glazed in many +places with a thin coating of ice, which I had to hammer off with stones. The +situation was becoming gradually more perilous; but, having passed several +dangerous spots, I dared not think of descending; for, so steep was the entire +ascent, one would inevitably fall to the glacier in case a single misstep were +made. Knowing, therefore, the tried danger beneath, I became all the more +anxious concerning the developments to be made above, and began to be conscious +of a vague foreboding of what actually befell; not that I was given to fear, +but rather because my instincts, usually so positive and true, seemed vitiated +in some way, and were leading me astray. At length, after attaining an +elevation of about 12,800 feet, I found myself at the foot of a sheer drop in +the bed of the avalanche channel I was tracing, which seemed absolutely to bar +further progress. It was only about forty-five or fifty feet high, and somewhat +roughened by fissures and projections; but these seemed so slight and insecure, +as footholds, that I tried hard to avoid the precipice altogether, by scaling +the wall of the channel on either side. But, though less steep, the walls were +smoother than the obstructing rock, and repeated efforts only showed that I +must either go right ahead or turn back. The tried dangers beneath seemed even +greater than that of the cliff in front; therefore, after scanning its face +again and again, I began to scale it, picking my holds with intense caution. +After gaining a point about halfway to the top, I was suddenly brought to a +dead stop, with arms outspread, clinging close to the face of the rock, unable +to move hand or foot either up or down. My doom appeared fixed. I <i>must</i> +fall. There would be a moment of bewilderment, and then a lifeless rumble down +the one general precipice to the glacier below. +</p> + +<p> +When this final danger flashed upon me, I became nerve-shaken for the first +time since setting foot on the mountains, and my mind seemed to fill with a +stifling smoke. But this terrible eclipse lasted only a moment, when life +blazed forth again with preternatural clearness. I seemed suddenly to become +possessed of a new sense. The other self, bygone experiences, Instinct, or +Guardian Angel,—call it what you will,—came forward and assumed +control. Then my trembling muscles became firm again, every rift and flaw in +the rock was seen as through a microscope, and my limbs moved with a +positiveness and precision with which I seemed to have nothing at all to do. +Had I been borne aloft upon wings, my deliverance could not have been more +complete. +</p> + +<p> +Above this memorable spot, the face of the mountain is still more savagely +hacked and torn. It is a maze of yawning chasms and gullies, in the angles of +which rise beetling crags and piles of detached boulders that seem to have been +gotten ready to be launched below. But the strange influx of strength I had +received seemed inexhaustible. I found a way without effort, and soon stood +upon the topmost crag in the blessed light. +</p> + +<p> +How truly glorious the landscape circled around this noble summit!—giant +mountains, valleys innumerable, glaciers and meadows, rivers and lakes, with +the wide blue sky bent tenderly over them all. But in my first hour of freedom +from that terrible shadow, the sunlight in which I was laving seemed all in +all. +</p> + +<p> +Looking southward along the axis of the range, the eye is first caught by a row +of exceedingly sharp and slender spires, which rise openly to a height of about +a thousand feet, above a series of short, residual glaciers that lean back +against their bases; their fantastic sculpture and the unrelieved sharpness +with which they spring out of the ice rendering them peculiarly wild and +striking. These are “The Minarets.” Beyond them you behold a +sublime wilderness of mountains, their snowy summits towering together in +crowded abundance, peak beyond peak, swelling higher, higher as they sweep on +southward, until the culminating point of the range is reached on Mount +Whitney, near the head of the Kern River, at an elevation of nearly 14,700 feet +above the level of the sea. +</p> + +<p> +Westward, the general flank of the range is seen flowing sublimely away from +the sharp summits, in smooth undulations; a sea of huge gray granite waves +dotted with lakes and meadows, and fluted with stupendous cañons that grow +steadily deeper as they recede in the distance. Below this gray region lies the +dark forest zone, broken here and there by upswelling ridges and domes; and yet +beyond lies a yellow, hazy belt, marking the broad plain of the San Joaquin, +bounded on its farther side by the blue mountains of the coast. +</p> + +<p> +Turning now to the northward, there in the immediate foreground is the glorious +Sierra Crown, with Cathedral Peak, a temple of marvelous architecture, a few +degrees to the left of it; the gray, massive form of Mammoth Mountain to the +right; while Mounts Ord, Gibbs, Dana, Conness, Tower Peak, Castle Peak, Silver +Mountain, and a host of noble companions, as yet nameless, make a sublime show +along the axis of the range. +</p> + +<p> +Eastward, the whole region seems a land of desolation covered with beautiful +light. The torrid volcanic basin of Mono, with its one bare lake fourteen miles +long; Owen’s Valley and the broad lava table-land at its head, dotted +with craters, and the massive Inyo Range, rivaling even the Sierra in height; +these are spread, map-like, beneath you, with countless ranges beyond, passing +and overlapping one another and fading on the glowing horizon. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus10"></a> +<img src="images/img10.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MAP OF THE YOSEMITE VALLEY" /> +<p class="caption">MAP OF THE YOSEMITE VALLEY</p> +</div> + +<p> +At a distance of less than 3000 feet below the summit of Mount Ritter you may +find tributaries of the San Joaquin and Owen’s rivers, bursting forth +from the ice and snow of the glaciers that load its flanks; while a little to +the north of here are found the highest affluents of the Tuolumne and Merced. +Thus, the fountains of four of the principal rivers of California are within a +radius of four or five miles. +</p> + +<p> +Lakes are seen gleaming in all sorts of places,—round, or oval, or +square, like very mirrors; others narrow and sinuous, drawn close around the +peaks like silver zones, the highest reflecting only rocks, snow, and the sky. +But neither these nor the glaciers, nor the bits of brown meadow and moorland +that occur here and there, are large enough to make any marked impression upon +the mighty wilderness of mountains. The eye, rejoicing in its freedom, roves +about the vast expanse, yet returns again and again to the fountain peaks. +Perhaps some one of the multitude excites special attention, some gigantic +castle with turret and battlement, or some Gothic cathedral more abundantly +spired than Milan’s. But, generally, when looking for the first time from +an all-embracing standpoint like this, the inexperienced observer is oppressed +by the incomprehensible grandeur, variety, and abundance of the mountains +rising shoulder to shoulder beyond the reach of vision; and it is only after +they have been studied one by one, long and lovingly, that their far-reaching +harmonies become manifest. Then, penetrate the wilderness where you may, the +main telling features, to which all the surrounding topography is subordinate, +are quickly perceived, and the most complicated clusters of peaks stand +revealed harmoniously correlated and fashioned like works of art—eloquent +monuments of the ancient ice-rivers that brought them into relief from the +general mass of the range. The cañons, too, some of them a mile deep, mazing +wildly through the mighty host of mountains, however lawless and ungovernable +at first sight they appear, are at length recognized as the necessary effects +of causes which followed each other in harmonious sequence—Nature’s +poems carved on tables of stone—the simplest and most emphatic of her +glacial compositions. +</p> + +<p> +Could we have been here to observe during the glacial period, we should have +overlooked a wrinkled ocean of ice as continuous as that now covering the +landscapes of Greenland; filling every valley and cañon with only the tops of +the fountain peaks rising darkly above the rock-encumbered ice-waves like +islets in a stormy sea—those islets the only hints of the glorious +landscapes now smiling in the sun. Standing here in the deep, brooding silence +all the wilderness seems motionless, as if the work of creation were done. But +in the midst of this outer steadfastness we know there is incessant motion and +change. Ever and anon, avalanches are falling from yonder peaks. These +cliff-bound glaciers, seemingly wedged and immovable, are flowing like water +and grinding the rocks beneath them. The lakes are lapping their granite shores +and wearing them away, and every one of these rills and young rivers is +fretting the air into music, and carrying the mountains to the plains. Here are +the roots of all the life of the valleys, and here more simply than elsewhere +is the eternal flux of nature manifested. Ice changing to water, lakes to +meadows, and mountains to plains. And while we thus contemplate Nature’s +methods of landscape creation, and, reading the records she has carved on the +rocks, reconstruct, however imperfectly, the landscapes of the past, we also +learn that as these we now behold have succeeded those of the pre-glacial age, +so they in turn are withering and vanishing to be succeeded by others yet +unborn. +</p> + +<p> +But in the midst of these fine lessons and landscapes, I had to remember that +the sun was wheeling far to the west, while a new way down the mountain had to +be discovered to some point on the timber line where I could have a fire; for I +had not even burdened myself with a coat. I first scanned the western spurs, +hoping some way might appear through which I might reach the northern glacier, +and cross its snout; or pass around the lake into which it flows, and thus +strike my morning track. This route was soon sufficiently unfolded to show +that, if practicable at all, it would require so much time that reaching camp +that night would be out of the question. I therefore scrambled back eastward, +descending the southern slopes obliquely at the same time. Here the crags +seemed less formidable, and the head of a glacier that flows northeast came in +sight, which I determined to follow as far as possible, hoping thus to make my +way to the foot of the peak on the east side, and thence across the intervening +cañons and ridges to camp. +</p> + +<p> +The inclination of the glacier is quite moderate at the head, and, as the sun +had softened the <i>névé</i>, I made safe and rapid progress, running and +sliding, and keeping up a sharp outlook for crevasses. About half a mile from +the head, there is an ice-cascade, where the glacier pours over a sharp +declivity and is shattered into massive blocks separated by deep, blue +fissures. To thread my way through the slippery mazes of this crevassed portion +seemed impossible, and I endeavored to avoid it by climbing off to the shoulder +of the mountain. But the slopes rapidly steepened and at length fell away in +sheer precipices, compelling a return to the ice. Fortunately, the day had been +warm enough to loosen the ice-crystals so as to admit of hollows being dug in +the rotten portions of the blocks, thus enabling me to pick my way with far +less difficulty than I had anticipated. Continuing down over the snout, and +along the left lateral moraine, was only a confident saunter, showing that the +ascent of the mountain by way of this glacier is easy, provided one is armed +with an ax to cut steps here and there. +</p> + +<p> +The lower end of the glacier was beautifully waved and barred by the +outcropping edges of the bedded ice-layers which represent the annual +snowfalls, and to some extent the irregularities of structure caused by the +weathering of the walls of crevasses, and by separate snowfalls which have been +followed by rain, hail, thawing and freezing, etc. Small rills were gliding and +swirling over the melting surface with a smooth, oily appearance, in channels +of pure ice—their quick, compliant movements contrasting most +impressively with the rigid, invisible flow of the glacier itself, on whose +back they all were riding. +</p> + +<p> +Night drew near before I reached the eastern base of the mountain, and my camp +lay many a rugged mile to the north; but ultimate success was assured. It was +now only a matter of endurance and ordinary mountain-craft. The sunset was, if +possible, yet more beautiful than that of the day before. The Mono landscape +seemed to be fairly saturated with warm, purple light. The peaks marshaled +along the summit were in shadow, but through every notch and pass streamed +vivid sun-fire, soothing and irradiating their rough, black angles, while +companies of small, luminous clouds hovered above them like very angels of +light. +</p> + +<p> +Darkness came on, but I found my way by the trends of the cañons and the peaks +projected against the sky. All excitement died with the light, and then I was +weary. But the joyful sound of the waterfall across the lake was heard at last, +and soon the stars were seen reflected in the lake itself. Taking my bearings +from these, I discovered the little pine thicket in which my nest was, and then +I had a rest such as only a tired mountaineer may enjoy. After lying loose and +lost for awhile, I made a sunrise fire, went down to the lake, dashed water on +my head, and dipped a cupful for tea. The revival brought about by bread and +tea was as complete as the exhaustion from excessive enjoyment and toil. Then I +crept beneath the pine-tassels to bed. The wind was frosty and the fire burned +low, but my sleep was none the less sound, and the evening constellations had +swept far to the west before I awoke. +</p> + +<p> +After thawing and resting in the morning sunshine, I sauntered home,—that +is, back to the Tuolumne camp,—bearing away toward a cluster of peaks +that hold the fountain snows of one of the north tributaries of Rush Creek. +Here I discovered a group of beautiful glacier lakes, nestled together in a +grand amphitheater. Toward evening, I crossed the divide separating the Mono +waters from those of the Tuolumne, and entered the glacier basin that now holds +the fountain snows of the stream that forms the upper Tuolumne cascades. This +stream I traced down through its many dells and gorges, meadows and bogs, +reaching the brink of the main Tuolumne at dusk. +</p> + +<p> +A loud whoop for the artists was answered again and again. Their camp-fire came +in sight, and half an hour afterward I was with them. They seemed unreasonably +glad to see me. I had been absent only three days; nevertheless, though the +weather was fine, they had already been weighing chances as to whether I would +ever return, and trying to decide whether they should wait longer or begin to +seek their way back to the lowlands. Now their curious troubles were over. They +packed their precious sketches, and next morning we set out homeward bound, and +in two days entered the Yosemite Valley from the north by way of Indian Cañon. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V<br/> +THE PASSES</h2> + +<p> +The sustained grandeur of the High Sierra is strikingly illustrated by the +great height of the passes. Between latitude 36° 20′ and 38° the lowest +pass, gap, gorge, or notch of any kind cutting across the axis of the range, as +far as I have discovered, exceeds 9000 feet in height above the level of the +sea; while the average height of all that are in use, either by Indians or +whites, is perhaps not less than 11,000 feet, and not one of these is a +carriage-pass. +</p> + +<p> +Farther north a carriage-road has been constructed through what is known as the +Sonora Pass, on the head waters of the Stanislaus and Walker’s rivers, +the summit of which is about 10,000 feet above the sea. Substantial wagon-roads +have also been built through the Carson and Johnson passes, near the head of +Lake Tahoe, over which immense quantities of freight were hauled from +California to the mining regions of Nevada, before the construction of the +Central Pacific Railroad. +</p> + +<p> +Still farther north, a considerable number of comparatively low passes occur, +some of which are accessible to wheeled vehicles, and through these rugged +defiles during the exciting years of the gold period long emigrant-trains with +foot-sore cattle wearily toiled. After the toil-worn adventurers had escaped a +thousand dangers and had crawled thousands of miles across the plains the snowy +Sierra at last loomed in sight, the eastern wall of the land of gold. And as +with shaded eyes they gazed through the tremulous haze of the desert, with what +joy must they have descried the pass through which they were to enter the +better land of their hopes and dreams! +</p> + +<p> +Between the Sonora Pass and the southern extremity of the High Sierra, a +distance of nearly 160 miles, there are only five passes through which trails +conduct from one side of the range to the other. These are barely practicable +for animals; a pass in these regions meaning simply any notch or cañon through +which one may, by the exercise of unlimited patience, make out to lead a mule, +or a sure-footed mustang; animals that can slide or jump as well as walk. Only +three of the five passes may be said to be in use, viz.: the Kearsarge, Mono, +and Virginia Creek; the tracks leading through the others being only obscure +Indian trails, not graded in the least, and scarcely traceable by white men; +for much of the way is over solid rock and earthquake avalanche taluses, where +the unshod ponies of the Indians leave no appreciable sign. Only skilled +mountaineers are able to detect the marks that serve to guide the Indians, such +as slight abrasions of the looser rocks, the displacement of stones here and +there, and bent bushes and weeds. A general knowledge of the topography is, +then, the main guide, enabling one to determine where the trail ought to +go—<i>must</i> go. One of these Indian trails crosses the range by a +nameless pass between the head waters of the south and middle forks of the San +Joaquin, the other between the north and middle forks of the same river, just +to the south of “The Minarets”; this last being about 9000 feet +high, is the lowest of the five. The Kearsarge is the highest, crossing the +summit near the head of the south fork of King’s River, about eight miles +to the north of Mount Tyndall, through the midst of the most stupendous +rock-scenery. The summit of this pass is over 12,000 feet above sea-level; +nevertheless, it is one of the safest of the five, and is used every summer, +from July to October or November, by hunters, prospectors, and stock-owners, +and to some extent by enterprising pleasure-seekers also. For, besides the +surpassing grandeur of the scenery about the summit, the trail, in ascending +the western flank of the range, conducts through a grove of the giant Sequoias, +and through the magnificent Yosemite Valley of the south fork of King’s +River. This is, perhaps, the highest traveled pass on the North American +continent. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus11"></a> +<img src="images/img11.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MAP OF THE YOSEMITE VALLEY, SHOWING PRESENT RESERVATION BOUNDARY" /> +<p class="caption">MAP OF THE YOSEMITE VALLEY, SHOWING PRESENT RESERVATION BOUNDARY.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The Mono Pass lies to the east of Yosemite Valley, at the head of one of the +tributaries of the south fork of the Tuolumne. This is the best known and most +extensively traveled of all that exist in the High Sierra. A trail was made +through it about the time of the Mono gold excitement, in the year 1858, by +adventurous miners and prospectors—men who would build a trail down the +throat of darkest Erebus on the way to gold. Though more than a thousand feet +lower than the Kearsarge, it is scarcely less sublime in rock-scenery, while in +snowy, falling water it far surpasses it. Being so favorably situated for the +stream of Yosemite travel, the more adventurous tourists cross over through +this glorious gateway to the volcanic region around Mono Lake. It has therefore +gained a name and fame above every other pass in the range. According to the +few barometrical observations made upon it, its highest point is 10,765 feet +above the sea. The other pass of the five we have been considering is somewhat +lower, and crosses the axis of the range a few miles to the north of the Mono +Pass, at the head of the southernmost tributary of Walker’s River. It is +used chiefly by roaming bands of the Pah Ute Indians and +“sheepmen.” +</p> + +<p> +But, leaving wheels and animals out of the question, the free mountaineer with +a sack of bread on his shoulders and an ax to cut steps in ice and frozen snow +can make his way across the range almost everywhere, and at any time of year +when the weather is calm. To him nearly every notch between the peaks is a +pass, though much patient step-cutting is at times required up and down steeply +inclined glaciers, with cautious climbing over precipices that at first sight +would seem hopelessly inaccessible. +</p> + +<p> +In pursuing my studies, I have crossed from side to side of the range at +intervals of a few miles all along the highest portion of the chain, with far +less real danger than one would naturally count on. And what fine wildness was +thus revealed—storms and avalanches, lakes and waterfalls, gardens and +meadows, and interesting animals—only those will ever know who give the +freest and most buoyant portion of their lives to climbing and seeing for +themselves. +</p> + +<p> +To the timid traveler, fresh from the sedimentary levels of the lowlands, these +highways, however picturesque and grand, seem terribly forbidding—cold, +dead, gloomy gashes in the bones of the mountains, and of all Nature’s +ways the ones to be most cautiously avoided. Yet they are full of the finest +and most telling examples of Nature’s love; and though hard to travel, +none are safer. For they lead through regions that lie far above the ordinary +haunts of the devil, and of the pestilence that walks in darkness. True, there +are innumerable places where the careless step will be the last step; and a +rock falling from the cliffs may crush without warning like lightning from the +sky; but what then! Accidents in the mountains are less common than in the +lowlands, and these mountain mansions are decent, delightful, even divine, +places to die in, compared with the doleful chambers of civilization. Few +places in this world are more dangerous than home. Fear not, therefore, to try +the mountain-passes. They will kill care, save you from deadly apathy, set you +free, and call forth every faculty into vigorous, enthusiastic action. Even the +sick should try these so-called dangerous passes, because for every unfortunate +they kill, they cure a thousand. +</p> + +<p> +All the passes make their steepest ascents on the eastern flank. On this side +the average rise is not far from a thousand feet to the mile, while on the west +it is about two hundred feet. Another marked difference between the eastern and +western portions of the passes is that the former begin at the very foot of the +range, while the latter can hardly be said to begin lower than an elevation of +from seven to ten thousand feet. Approaching the range from the gray levels of +Mono and Owen’s Valley on the east, the traveler sees before him the +steep, short passes in full view, fenced in by rugged spurs that come plunging +down from the shoulders of the peaks on either side, the courses of the more +direct being disclosed from top to bottom without interruption. But from the +west one sees nothing of the way he may be seeking until near the summit, after +days have been spent in threading the forests growing on the main dividing +ridges between the river cañons. +</p> + +<p> +It is interesting to observe how surely the alp-crossing animals of every kind +fall into the same trails. The more rugged and inaccessible the general +character of the topography of any particular region, the more surely will the +trails of white men, Indians, bears, wild sheep, etc., be found converging into +the best passes. The Indians of the western slope venture cautiously over the +passes in settled weather to attend dances, and obtain loads of pine-nuts and +the larvae of a small fly that breeds in Mono and Owen’s lakes, which, +when dried, forms an important article of food; while the Pah Utes cross over +from the east to hunt the deer and obtain supplies of acorns; and it is truly +astonishing to see what immense loads the haggard old squaws make out to carry +bare-footed through these rough passes, oftentimes for a distance of sixty or +seventy miles. They are always accompanied by the men, who stride on, +unburdened and erect, a little in advance, kindly stooping at difficult places +to pile stepping-stones for their patient, pack-animal wives, just as they +would prepare the way for their ponies. +</p> + +<p> +Bears evince great sagacity as mountaineers, but although they are tireless and +enterprising travelers they seldom cross the range. I have several times +tracked them through the Mono Pass, but only in late years, after cattle and +sheep had passed that way, when they doubtless were following to feed on the +stragglers and on those that had been killed by falling over the rocks. Even +the wild sheep, the best mountaineers of all, choose regular passes in making +journeys across the summits. Deer seldom cross the range in either direction. I +have never yet observed a single specimen of the mule-deer of the Great Basin +west of the summit, and rarely one of the black-tailed species on the eastern +slope, notwithstanding many of the latter ascend the range nearly to the summit +every summer, to feed in the wild gardens and bring forth their young. +</p> + +<p> +The glaciers are the pass-makers, and it is by them that the courses of all +mountaineers are predestined. Without exception every pass in the Sierra was +created by them without the slightest aid or predetermining guidance from any +of the cataclysmic agents. I have seen elaborate statements of the amount of +drilling and blasting accomplished in the construction of the railroad across +the Sierra, above Donner Lake; but for every pound of rock moved in this way, +the glaciers which descended east and west through this same pass, crushed and +carried away more than a hundred tons. +</p> + +<p> +The so-called practicable road-passes are simply those portions of the range +more degraded by glacial action than the adjacent portions, and degraded in +such a way as to leave the summits rounded, instead of sharp; while the peaks, +from the superior strength and hardness of their rocks, or from more favorable +position, having suffered less degradation, are left towering above the passes +as if they had been heaved into the sky by some force acting from beneath. +</p> + +<p> +The scenery of all the passes, especially at the head, is of the wildest and +grandest description,—lofty peaks massed together and laden around their +bases with ice and snow; chains of glacier lakes; cascading streams in endless +variety, with glorious views, westward over a sea of rocks and woods, and +eastward over strange ashy plains, volcanoes, and the dry, dead-looking ranges +of the Great Basin. Every pass, however, possesses treasures of beauty all its +own. +</p> + +<p> +Having thus in a general way indicated the height, leading features, and +distribution of the principal passes, I will now endeavor to describe the Mono +Pass in particular, which may, I think, be regarded as a fair example of the +higher alpine passes in general. +</p> + +<p> +The main portion of the Mono Pass is formed by Bloody Cañon, which begins at +the summit of the range, and runs in a general east-northeasterly direction to +the edge of the Mono Plain. +</p> + +<p> +The first white men who forced a way through its somber depths were, as we have +seen, eager gold-seekers. But the cañon was known and traveled as a pass by the +Indians and mountain animals long before its discovery by white men, as is +shown by the numerous tributary trails which come into it from every direction. +Its name accords well with the character of the “early times” in +California, and may perhaps have been suggested by the predominant color of the +metamorphic slates in which it is in great part eroded; or more probably by +blood-stains made by the unfortunate animals which were compelled to slip and +shuffle awkwardly over its rough, cutting rocks. I have never known an animal, +either mule or horse, to make its way through the cañon, either in going up or +down, without losing more or less blood from wounds on the legs. Occasionally +one is killed outright—falling headlong and rolling over precipices like +a boulder. But such accidents are rarer than from the terrible appearance of +the trail one would be led to expect; the more experienced when driven loose +find their way over the dangerous places with a caution and sagacity that is +truly wonderful. During the gold excitement it was at times a matter of +considerable pecuniary importance to force a way through the cañon with +pack-trains early in the spring while it was yet heavily blocked with snow; and +then the mules with their loads had sometimes to be let down over the steepest +drifts and avalanche beds by means of ropes. +</p> + +<p> +A good bridle-path leads from Yosemite through many a grove and meadow up to +the head of the cañon, a distance of about thirty miles. Here the scenery +undergoes a sudden and startling condensation. Mountains, red, gray, and black, +rise close at hand on the right, whitened around their bases with banks of +enduring snow; on the left swells the huge red mass of Mount Gibbs, while in +front the eye wanders down the shadowy cañon, and out on the warm plain of +Mono, where the lake is seen gleaming like a burnished metallic disk, with +clusters of lofty volcanic cones to the south of it. +</p> + +<p> +When at length we enter the mountain gateway, the somber rocks seem aware of +our presence, and seem to come thronging closer about us. Happily the ouzel and +the old familiar robin are here to sing us welcome, and azure daisies beam with +trustfulness and sympathy, enabling us to feel something of Nature’s love +even here, beneath the gaze of her coldest rocks. +</p> + +<p> +The effect of this expressive outspokenness on the part of the cañon-rocks is +greatly enhanced by the quiet aspect of the alpine meadows through which we +pass just before entering the narrow gateway. The forests in which they lie, +and the mountain-tops rising beyond them, seem quiet and tranquil. We catch +their restful spirit, yield to the soothing influences of the sunshine, and +saunter dreamily on through flowers and bees, scarce touched by a definite +thought; then suddenly we find ourselves in the shadowy cañon, closeted with +Nature in one of her wildest strongholds. +</p> + +<p> +After the first bewildering impression begins to wear off, we perceive that it +is not altogether terrible; for besides the reassuring birds and flowers we +discover a chain of shining lakelets hanging down from the very summit of the +pass, and linked together by a silvery stream. The highest are set in bleak, +rough bowls, scantily fringed with brown and yellow sedges. Winter storms blow +snow through the cañon in blinding drifts, and avalanches shoot from the +heights. Then are these sparkling tarns filled and buried, leaving not a hint +of their existence. In June and July they begin to blink and thaw out like +sleepy eyes, the carices thrust up their short brown spikes, the daisies bloom +in turn, and the most profoundly buried of them all is at length warmed and +summered as if winter were only a dream. +</p> + +<p> +Red Lake is the lowest of the chain, and also the largest. It seems rather dull +and forbidding at first sight, lying motionless in its deep, dark bed. The +cañon wall rises sheer from the water’s edge on the south, but on the +opposite side there is sufficient space and sunshine for a sedgy daisy garden, +the center of which is brilliantly lighted with lilies, castilleias, larkspurs, +and columbines, sheltered from the wind by leafy willows, and forming a most +joyful outburst of plant-life keenly emphasized by the chill baldness of the +onlooking cliffs. +</p> + +<p> +After indulging here in a dozing, shimmering lake-rest, the happy stream sets +forth again, warbling and trilling like an ouzel, ever delightfully confiding, +no matter how dark the way; leaping, gliding, hither, thither, clear or +foaming: manifesting the beauty of its wildness in every sound and gesture. +</p> + +<p> +One of its most beautiful developments is the Diamond Cascade, situated a short +distance below Red Lake. Here the tense, crystalline water is first dashed into +coarse, granular spray mixed with dusty foam, and then divided into a diamond +pattern by following the diagonal cleavage-joints that intersect the face of +the precipice over which it pours. Viewed in front, it resembles a strip of +embroidery of definite pattern, varying through the seasons with the +temperature and the volume of water. Scarce a flower may be seen along its +snowy border. A few bent pines look on from a distance, and small fringes of +cassiope and rock-ferns are growing in fissures near the head, but these are so +lowly and undemonstrative that only the attentive observer will be likely to +notice them. +</p> + +<p> +On the north wall of the cañon, a little below the Diamond Cascade, a +glittering side stream makes its appearance, seeming to leap directly out of +the sky. It first resembles a crinkled ribbon of silver hanging loosely down +the wall, but grows wider as it descends, and dashes the dull rock with foam. A +long rough talus curves up against this part of the cliff, overgrown with +snow-pressed willows, in which the fall disappears with many an eager surge and +swirl and plashing leap, finally beating its way down to its confluence with +the main cañon stream. +</p> + +<p> +Below this point the climate is no longer arctic. Butterflies become larger and +more abundant, grasses with imposing spread of panicle wave above your +shoulders, and the summery drone of the bumblebee thickens the air. The Dwarf +Pine, the tree-mountaineer that climbs highest and braves the coldest blasts, +is found scattered in storm-beaten clumps from the summit of the pass about +half-way down the cañon. Here it is succeeded by the hardy Two-leaved Pine, +which is speedily joined by the taller Yellow and Mountain Pines. These, with +the burly juniper, and shimmering aspen, rapidly grow larger as the sunshine +becomes richer, forming groves that block the view; or they stand more apart +here and there in picturesque groups, that make beautiful and obvious harmony +with the rocks and with one another. Blooming underbrush becomes +abundant,—azalea, spiraea, and the brier-rose weaving fringes for the +streams, and shaggy rugs to relieve the stern, unflinching rock-bosses. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus12"></a> +<img src="images/img12.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="RANCHERIA FALLS" /> +<p class="caption">RANCHERIA FALLS, HETCH-HETCHY VALLEY</p> +</div> + +<p> +Through this delightful wilderness, Cañon Creek roves without any constraining +channel, throbbing and wavering; now in sunshine, now in thoughtful shade; +falling, swirling, flashing from side to side in weariless exuberance of +energy. A glorious milky way of cascades is thus developed, of which Bower +Cascade, though one of the smallest, is perhaps the most beautiful of them all. +It is situated in the lower region of the pass, just where the sunshine begins +to mellow between the cold and warm climates. Here the glad creek, grown strong +with tribute gathered from many a snowy fountain on the heights, sings richer +strains, and becomes more human and lovable at every step. Now you may by its +side find the rose and homely yarrow, and small meadows full of bees and +clover. At the head of a low-browed rock, luxuriant dogwood bushes and willows +arch over from bank to bank, embowering the stream with their leafy branches; +and drooping plumes, kept in motion by the current, fringe the brow of the +cascade in front. From this leafy covert the stream leaps out into the light in +a fluted curve thick sown with sparkling crystals, and falls into a pool filled +with brown boulders, out of which it creeps gray with foam-bells and disappears +in a tangle of verdure like that from which it came. +</p> + +<p> +Hence, to the foot of the cañon, the metamorphic slates give place to granite, +whose nobler sculpture calls forth expressions of corresponding beauty from the +stream in passing over it,—bright trills of rapids, booming notes of +falls, solemn hushes of smooth-gliding sheets, all chanting and blending in +glorious harmony. When, at length, its impetuous alpine life is done, it slips +through a meadow with scarce an audible whisper, and falls asleep in Moraine +Lake. +</p> + +<p> +This water-bed is one of the finest I ever saw. Evergreens wave soothingly +about it, and the breath of flowers floats over it like incense. Here our +blessed stream rests from its rocky wanderings, all its mountaineering +done,—no more foaming rock-leaping, no more wild, exulting song. It falls +into a smooth, glassy sleep, stirred only by the night-wind, which, coming down +the cañon, makes it croon and mutter in ripples along its broidered shores. +</p> + +<p> +Leaving the lake, it glides quietly through the rushes, destined never more to +touch the living rock. Henceforth its path lies through ancient moraines and +reaches of ashy sage-plain, which nowhere afford rocks suitable for the +development of cascades or sheer falls. Yet this beauty of maturity, though +less striking, is of a still higher order, enticing us lovingly on through +gentian meadows and groves of rustling aspen to Lake Mono, where, spirit-like, +our happy stream vanishes in vapor, and floats free again in the sky. +</p> + +<p> +Bloody Cañon, like every other in the Sierra, was recently occupied by a +glacier, which derived its fountain snows from the adjacent summits, and +descended into Mono Lake, at a time when its waters stood at a much higher +level than now. The principal characters in which the history of the ancient +glaciers is preserved are displayed here in marvelous freshness and simplicity, +furnishing the student with extraordinary advantages for the acquisition of +knowledge of this sort. The most striking passages are polished and striated +surfaces, which in many places reflect the rays of the sun like smooth water. +The dam of Red Lake is an elegantly modeled rib of metamorphic slate, brought +into relief because of its superior strength, and because of the greater +intensity of the glacial erosion of the rock immediately above it, caused by a +steeply inclined tributary glacier, which entered the main trunk with a heavy +down-thrust at the head of the lake. +</p> + +<p> +Moraine Lake furnishes an equally interesting example of a basin formed wholly, +or in part, by a terminal moraine dam curved across the path of a stream +between two lateral moraines. +</p> + +<p> +At Moraine Lake the cañon proper terminates, although apparently continued by +the two lateral moraines of the vanished glacier. These moraines are about 300 +feet high, and extend unbrokenly from the sides of the cañon into the plain, a +distance of about five miles, curving and tapering in beautiful lines. Their +sunward sides are gardens, their shady sides are groves; the former devoted +chiefly to eriogonae, compositae, and graminae; a square rod containing five or +six profusely flowered eriogonums of several species, about the same number of +bahia and linosyris, and a few grass tufts; each species being planted trimly +apart, with bare gravel between, as if cultivated artificially. +</p> + +<p> +My first visit to Bloody Cañon was made in the summer of 1869, under +circumstances well calculated to heighten the impressions that are the peculiar +offspring of mountains. I came from the blooming tangles of Florida, and waded +out into the plant-gold of the great valley of California, when its flora was +as yet untrodden. Never before had I beheld congregations of social flowers +half so extensive or half so glorious. Golden composite covered all the ground +from the Coast Range to the Sierra like a stratum of curdled sunshine, in which +I reveled for weeks, watching the rising and setting of their innumerable suns; +then I gave myself up to be borne forward on the crest of the summer wave that +sweeps annually up the Sierra and spends itself on the snowy summits. +</p> + +<p> +At the Big Tuolumne Meadows I remained more than a month, sketching, +botanizing, and climbing among the surrounding mountains. The mountaineer with +whom I then happened to be camping was one of those remarkable men one so +frequently meets in California, the hard angles and bosses of whose characters +have been brought into relief by the grinding excitements of the gold period, +until they resemble glacial landscapes. But at this late day, my friend’s +activities had subsided, and his craving for rest caused him to become a gentle +shepherd and literally to lie down with the lamb. +</p> + +<p> +Recognizing the unsatisfiable longings of my Scotch Highland instincts, he +threw out some hints concerning Bloody Cañon, and advised me to explore it. +“I have never seen it myself,” he said, “for I never was so +unfortunate as to pass that way. But I have heard many a strange story about +it, and I warrant you will at least find it wild enough.” +</p> + +<p> +Then of course I made haste to see it. Early next morning I made up a bundle of +bread, tied my note-book to my belt, and strode away in the bracing air, full +of eager, indefinite hope. The plushy lawns that lay in my path served to +soothe my morning haste. The sod in many places was starred with daisies and +blue gentians, over which I lingered. I traced the paths of the ancient +glaciers over many a shining pavement, and marked the gaps in the upper forests +that told the power of the winter avalanches. Climbing higher, I saw for the +first time the gradual dwarfing of the pines in compliance with climate, and on +the summit discovered creeping mats of the arctic willow overgrown with silky +catkins, and patches of the dwarf vaccinium with its round flowers sprinkled in +the grass like purple hail; while in every direction the landscape stretched +sublimely away in fresh wildness—a manuscript written by the hand of +Nature alone. +</p> + +<p> +At length, as I entered the pass, the huge rocks began to close around in all +their wild, mysterious impressiveness, when suddenly, as I was gazing eagerly +about me, a drove of gray hairy beings came in sight, lumbering toward me with +a kind of boneless, wallowing motion like bears. +</p> + +<p> +I never turn back, though often so inclined, and in this particular instance, +amid such surroundings, everything seemed singularly unfavorable for the calm +acceptance of so grim a company. Suppressing my fears, I soon discovered that +although as hairy as bears and as crooked as summit pines, the strange +creatures were sufficiently erect to belong to our own species. They proved to +be nothing more formidable than Mono Indians dressed in the skins of +sage-rabbits. Both the men and the women begged persistently for whisky and +tobacco, and seemed so accustomed to denials that I found it impossible to +convince them that I had none to give. Excepting the names of these two +products of civilization, they seemed to understand not a word of English; but +I afterward learned that they were on their way to Yosemite Valley to feast +awhile on trout and procure a load of acorns to carry back through the pass to +their huts on the shore of Mono Lake. +</p> + +<p> +Occasionally a good countenance may be seen among the Mono Indians, but these, +the first specimens I had seen, were mostly ugly, and some of them altogether +hideous. The dirt on their faces was fairly stratified, and seemed so ancient +and so undisturbed it might almost possess a geological significance. The older +faces were, moreover, strangely blurred and divided into sections by furrows +that looked like the cleavage-joints of rocks, suggesting exposure on the +mountains in a castaway condition for ages. Somehow they seemed to have no +right place in the landscape, and I was glad to see them fading out of sight +down the pass. +</p> + +<p> +Then came evening, and the somber cliffs were inspired with the ineffable +beauty of the alpenglow. A solemn calm fell upon everything. All the lower +portion of the cañon was in gloaming shadow, and I crept into a hollow near one +of the upper lakelets to smooth the ground in a sheltered nook for a bed. When +the short twilight faded, I kindled a sunny fire, made a cup of tea, and lay +down to rest and look at the stars. Soon the night-wind began to flow and pour +in torrents among the jagged peaks, mingling strange tones with those of the +waterfalls sounding far below; and as I drifted toward sleep I began to +experience an uncomfortable feeling of nearness to the furred Monos. Then the +full moon looked down over the edge of the cañon wall, her countenance +seemingly filled with intense concern, and apparently so near as to produce a +startling effect as if she had entered my bedroom, forgetting all the world, to +gaze on me alone. +</p> + +<p> +The night was full of strange sounds, and I gladly welcomed the morning. +Breakfast was soon done, and I set forth in the exhilarating freshness of the +new day, rejoicing in the abundance of pure wildness so close about me. The +stupendous rocks, hacked and scarred with centuries of storms, stood sharply +out in the thin early light, while down in the bottom of the cañon grooved and +polished bosses heaved and glistened like swelling sea-waves, telling a grand +old story of the ancient glacier that poured its crushing floods above them. +</p> + +<p> +Here for the first time I met the arctic daisies in all their perfection of +purity and spirituality,—gentle mountaineers face to face with the stormy +sky, kept safe and warm by a thousand miracles. I leaped lightly from rock to +rock, glorying in the eternal freshness and sufficiency of Nature, and in the +ineffable tenderness with which she nurtures her mountain darlings in the very +fountains of storms. Fresh beauty appeared at every step, delicate rock-ferns, +and groups of the fairest flowers. Now another lake came to view, now a +waterfall. Never fell light in brighter spangles, never fell water in whiter +foam. I seemed to float through the cañon enchanted, feeling nothing of its +roughness, and was out in the Mono levels before I was aware. +</p> + +<p> +Looking back from the shore of Moraine Lake, my morning ramble seemed all a +dream. There curved Bloody Cañon, a mere glacial furrow 2000 feet deep, with +smooth rocks projecting from the sides and braided together in the middle, like +bulging, swelling muscles. Here the lilies were higher than my head, and the +sunshine was warm enough for palms. Yet the snow around the arctic willows was +plainly visible only four miles away, and between were narrow specimen zones of +all the principal climates of the globe. +</p> + +<p> +On the bank of a small brook that comes gurgling down the side of the left +lateral moraine, I found a camp-fire still burning, which no doubt belonged to +the gray Indians I had met on the summit, and I listened instinctively and +moved cautiously forward, half expecting to see some of their grim faces +peering out of the bushes. +</p> + +<p> +Passing on toward the open plain, I noticed three well-defined terminal +moraines curved gracefully across the cañon stream, and joined by long splices +to the two noble laterals. These mark the halting-places of the vanished +glacier when it was retreating into its summit shadows on the breaking-up of +the glacial winter. +</p> + +<p> +Five miles below the foot of Moraine Lake, just where the lateral moraines lose +themselves in the plain, there was a field of wild rye, growing in magnificent +waving bunches six to eight feet high, bearing heads from six to twelve inches +long. Rubbing out some of the grains, I found them about five eighths of an +inch long, dark-colored, and sweet. Indian women were gathering it in baskets, +bending down large handfuls, beating it out, and fanning it in the wind. They +were quite picturesque, coming through the rye, as one caught glimpses of them +here and there, in winding lanes and openings, with splendid tufts arching +above their heads, while their incessant chat and laughter showed their +heedless joy. +</p> + +<p> +Like the rye-field, I found the so-called desert of Mono blooming in a high +state of natural cultivation with the wild rose, cherry, aster, and the +delicate abronia; also innumerable gilias, phloxes, poppies, and +bush-compositae. I observed their gestures and the various expressions of their +corollas, inquiring how they could be so fresh and beautiful out in this +volcanic desert. They told as happy a life as any plant-company I ever met, and +seemed to enjoy even the hot sand and the wind. +</p> + +<p> +But the vegetation of the pass has been in great part destroyed, and the same +may be said of all the more accessible passes throughout the range. Immense +numbers of starving sheep and cattle have been driven through them into Nevada, +trampling the wild gardens and meadows almost out of existence. The lofty walls +are untouched by any foot, and the falls sing on unchanged; but the sight of +crushed flowers and stripped, bitten bushes goes far toward destroying the +charm of wildness. +</p> + +<p> +The cañon should be seen in winter. A good, strong traveler, who knows the way +and the weather, might easily make a safe excursion through it from Yosemite +Valley on snow-shoes during some tranquil time, when the storms are hushed. The +lakes and falls would be buried then; but so, also, would be the traces of +destructive feet, while the views of the mountains in their winter garb, and +the ride at lightning speed down the pass between the snowy walls, would be +truly glorious. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus13"></a> +<img src="images/img13.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="VIEW OF THE MONO PLAIN FROM THE FOOT OF BLOODY CAÑON" /> +<p class="caption">VIEW OF THE MONO PLAIN FROM THE FOOT OF BLOODY CAÑON.</p> +</div> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI<br/> +THE GLACIER LAKES</h2> + +<p> +Among the many unlooked-for treasures that are bound up and hidden away in the +depths of Sierra solitudes, none more surely charm and surprise all kinds of +travelers than the glacier lakes. The forests and the glaciers and the snowy +fountains of the streams advertise their wealth in a more or less telling +manner even in the distance, but nothing is seen of the lakes until we have +climbed above them. All the upper branches of the rivers are fairly laden with +lakes, like orchard trees with fruit. They lie embosomed in the deep woods, +down in the grovy bottoms of cañons, high on bald tablelands, and around the +feet of the icy peaks, mirroring back their wild beauty over and over again. +Some conception of their lavish abundance may be made from the fact that, from +one standpoint on the summit of Red Mountain, a day’s journey to the east +of Yosemite Valley, no fewer than forty-two are displayed within a radius of +ten miles. The whole number in the Sierra can hardly be less than fifteen +hundred, not counting the smaller pools and tarns, which are innumerable. +Perhaps two thirds or more lie on the western flank of the range, and all are +restricted to the alpine and subalpine regions. At the close of the last +glacial period, the middle and foot-hill regions also abounded in lakes, all of +which have long since vanished as completely as the magnificent ancient +glaciers that brought them into existence. +</p> + +<p> +Though the eastern flank of the range is excessively steep, we find lakes +pretty regularly distributed throughout even the most precipitous portions. +They are mostly found in the upper branches of the cañons, and in the glacial +amphitheaters around the peaks. +</p> + +<p> +Occasionally long, narrow specimens occur upon the steep sides of dividing +ridges, their basins swung lengthwise like hammocks, and very rarely one is +found lying so exactly on the summit of the range at the head of some pass that +its waters are discharged down both flanks when the snow is melting fast. But, +however situated, they soon cease to form surprises to the studious +mountaineer; for, like all the love-work of Nature, they are harmoniously +related to one another, and to all the other features of the mountains. It is +easy, therefore, to find the bright lake-eyes in the roughest and most +ungovernable-looking topography of any landscape countenance. Even in the lower +regions, where they have been closed for many a century, their rocky orbits are +still discernible, filled in with the detritus of flood and avalanche. A +beautiful system of grouping in correspondence with the glacial fountains is +soon perceived; also their extension in the direction of the trends of the +ancient glaciers; and in general their dependence as to form, size, and +position upon the character of the rocks in which their basins have been +eroded, and the quantity and direction of application of the glacial force +expended upon each basin. +</p> + +<p> +In the upper cañons we usually find them in pretty regular succession, strung +together like beads on the bright ribbons of their feeding-streams, which pour, +white and gray with foam and spray, from one to the other, their perfect mirror +stillness making impressive contrasts with the grand blare and glare of the +connecting cataracts. In Lake Hollow, on the north side of the Hoffman spur, +immediately above the great Tuolumne cañon, there are ten lovely lakelets lying +near together in one general hollow, like eggs in a nest. Seen from above, in a +general view, feathered with Hemlock Spruce, and fringed with sedge, they seem +to me the most singularly beautiful and interestingly located lake-cluster I +have ever yet discovered. +</p> + +<p> +Lake Tahoe, 22 miles long by about 10 wide, and from 500 to over 1600 feet in +depth, is the largest of all the Sierra lakes. It lies just beyond the northern +limit of the higher portion of the range between the main axis and a spur that +puts out on the east side from near the head of the Carson River. Its forested +shores go curving in and out around many an emerald bay and pine-crowned +promontory, and its waters are everywhere as keenly pure as any to be found +among the highest mountains. +</p> + +<p> +Donner Lake, rendered memorable by the terrible fate of the Donner party, is +about three miles long, and lies about ten miles to the north of Tahoe, at the +head of one of the tributaries of the Truckee. A few miles farther north lies +Lake Independence, about the same size as Donner. But far the greater number of +the lakes lie much higher and are quite small, few of them exceeding a mile in +length, most of them less than half a mile. +</p> + +<p> +Along the lower edge of the lake-belt, the smallest have disappeared by the +filling-in of their basins, leaving only those of considerable size. But all +along the upper freshly glaciated margin of the lake-bearing zone, every +hollow, however small, lying within reach of any portion of the close network +of streams, contains a bright, brimming pool; so that the landscape viewed from +the mountain-tops seems to be sown broadcast with them. Many of the larger +lakes are encircled with smaller ones like central gems girdled with sparkling +brilliants. In general, however, there is no marked dividing line as to size. +In order, therefore, to prevent confusion, I would state here that in giving +numbers, I include none less than 500 yards in circumference. +</p> + +<p> +In the basin of the Merced River, I counted 131, of which 111 are upon the +tributaries that fall so grandly into Yosemite Valley. Pohono Creek, which +forms the fall of that name, takes its rise in a beautiful lake, lying beneath +the shadow of a lofty granite spur that puts out from Buena Vista peak. This is +now the only lake left in the whole Pohono Basin. The Illilouette has sixteen, +the Nevada no fewer than sixty-seven, the Tenaya eight, Hoffmann Creek five, +and Yosemite Creek fourteen. There are but two other lake-bearing affluents of +the Merced, viz., the South Fork with fifteen, and Cascade Creek with five, +both of which unite with the main trunk below Yosemite. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus14"></a> +<img src="images/img14.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="LAKE TENAYA, ONE OF THE YOSEMITE FOUNTAINS" /> +<p class="caption">LAKE TENAYA, ONE OF THE YOSEMITE FOUNTAINS.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The Merced River, as a whole, is remarkably like an elm-tree, and it requires +but little effort on the part of the imagination to picture it standing +upright, with all its lakes hanging upon its spreading branches, the topmost +eighty miles in height. Now add all the other lake-bearing rivers of the +Sierra, each in its place, and you will have a truly glorious +spectacle,—an avenue the length and width of the range; the long, +slender, gray shafts of the main trunks, the milky way of arching branches, and +the silvery lakes, all clearly defined and shining on the sky. How excitedly +such an addition to the scenery would be gazed at! Yet these lakeful rivers are +still more excitingly beautiful and impressive in their natural positions to +those who have the eyes to see them as they lie imbedded in their meadows and +forests and glacier-sculptured rocks. +</p> + +<p> +When a mountain lake is born,—when, like a young eye, it first opens to +the light,—it is an irregular, expressionless crescent, inclosed in banks +of rock and ice,—bare, glaciated rock on the lower side, the rugged snout +of a glacier on the upper. In this condition it remains for many a year, until +at length, toward the end of some auspicious cluster of seasons, the glacier +recedes beyond the upper margin of the basin, leaving it open from shore to +shore for the first time, thousands of years after its conception beneath the +glacier that excavated its basin. The landscape, cold and bare, is reflected in +its pure depths; the winds ruffle its glassy surface, and the sun fills it with +throbbing spangles, while its waves begin to lap and murmur around its leafless +shores,—sun-spangles during the day and reflected stars at night its only +flowers, the winds and the snow its only visitors. Meanwhile, the glacier +continues to recede, and numerous rills, still younger than the lake itself, +bring down glacier-mud, sand-grains, and pebbles, giving rise to margin-rings +and plats of soil. To these fresh soil-beds come many a waiting plant. First, a +hardy carex with arching leaves and a spike of brown flowers; then, as the +seasons grow warmer, and the soil-beds deeper and wider, other sedges take +their appointed places, and these are joined by blue gentians, daisies, +dodecatheons, violets, honeyworts, and many a lowly moss. Shrubs also hasten in +time to the new gardens,—kalmia with its glossy leaves and purple +flowers, the arctic willow, making soft woven carpets, together with the heathy +bryanthus and cassiope, the fairest and dearest of them all. Insects now enrich +the air, frogs pipe cheerily in the shallows, soon followed by the ouzel, which +is the first bird to visit a glacier lake, as the sedge is the first of plants. +</p> + +<p> +So the young lake grows in beauty, becoming more and more humanly lovable from +century to century. Groves of aspen spring up, and hardy pines, and the Hemlock +Spruce, until it is richly overshadowed and embowered. But while its shores are +being enriched, the soil-beds creep out with incessant growth, contracting its +area, while the lighter mud-particles deposited on the bottom cause it to grow +constantly shallower, until at length the last remnant of the lake +vanishes,—closed forever in ripe and natural old age. And now its +feeding-stream goes winding on without halting through the new gardens and +groves that have taken its place. +</p> + +<p> +The length of the life of any lake depends ordinarily upon the capacity of its +basin, as compared with the carrying power of the streams that flow into it, +the character of the rocks over which these streams flow, and the relative +position of the lake toward other lakes. In a series whose basins lie in the +same cañon, and are fed by one and the same main stream, the uppermost will, of +course, vanish first unless some other lake-filling agent comes in to modify +the result; because at first it receives nearly all of the sediments that the +stream brings down, only the finest of the mud-particles being carried through +the highest of the series to the next below. Then the next higher, and the next +would be successively filled, and the lowest would be the last to vanish. But +this simplicity as to duration is broken in upon in various ways, chiefly +through the action of side-streams that enter the lower lakes direct. For, +notwithstanding many of these side tributaries are quite short, and, during +late summer, feeble, they all become powerful torrents in springtime when the +snow is melting, and carry not only sand and pine-needles, but large trunks and +boulders tons in weight, sweeping them down their steeply inclined channels and +into the lake basins with astounding energy. Many of these side affluents also +have the advantage of access to the main lateral moraines of the vanished +glacier that occupied the cañon, and upon these they draw for lake-filling +material, while the main trunk stream flows mostly over clean glacier +pavements, where but little moraine matter is ever left for them to carry. Thus +a small rapid stream with abundance of loose transportable material within its +reach may fill up an extensive basin in a few centuries, while a large +perennial trunk stream, flowing over clean, enduring pavements, though +ordinarily a hundred times larger, may not fill a smaller basin in thousands of +years. +</p> + +<p> +The comparative influence of great and small streams as lake-fillers is +strikingly illustrated in Yosemite Valley, through which the Merced flows. The +bottom of the valley is now composed of level meadow-lands and dry, sloping +soil-beds planted with oak and pine, but it was once a lake stretching from +wall to wall and nearly from one end of the valley to the other, forming one of +the most beautiful cliff-bound sheets of water that ever existed in the Sierra. +And though never perhaps seen by human eye, it was but yesterday, geologically +speaking, since it disappeared, and the traces of its existence are still so +fresh, it may easily be restored to the eye of imagination and viewed in all +its grandeur, about as truly and vividly as if actually before us. Now we find +that the detritus which fills this magnificent basin was not brought down from +the distant mountains by the main streams that converge here to form the river, +however powerful and available for the purpose at first sight they appear; but +almost wholly by the small local tributaries, such as those of Indian Cañon, +the Sentinel, and the Three Brothers, and by a few small residual glaciers +which lingered in the shadows of the walls long after the main trunk glacier +had receded beyond the head of the valley. +</p> + +<p> +Had the glaciers that once covered the range been melted at once, leaving the +entire surface bare from top to bottom simultaneously, then of course all the +lakes would have come into existence at the same time, and the highest, other +circumstances being equal, would, as we have seen, be the first to vanish. But +because they melted gradually from the foot of the range upward, the lower +lakes were the first to see the light and the first to be obliterated. +Therefore, instead of finding the lakes of the present day at the foot of the +range, we find them at the top. Most of the lower lakes vanished thousands of +years before those now brightening the alpine landscapes were born. And in +general, owing to the deliberation of the upward retreat of the glaciers, the +lowest of the existing lakes are also the oldest, a gradual transition being +apparent throughout the entire belt, from the older, forested, meadow-rimmed +and contracted forms all the way up to those that are new born, lying bare and +meadowless among the highest peaks. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus15"></a> +<img src="images/img15.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="THE DEATH OF A LAKE" /> +<p class="caption">THE DEATH OF A LAKE.</p> +</div> + +<p> +A few small lakes unfortunately situated are extinguished suddenly by a single +swoop of an avalanche, carrying down immense numbers of trees, together with +the soil they were growing upon. Others are obliterated by land-slips, +earthquake taluses, etc., but these lake-deaths compared with those resulting +from the deliberate and incessant deposition of sediments, may be termed +accidental. Their fate is like that of trees struck by lightning. +</p> + +<p> +The lake-line is of course still rising, its present elevation being about 8000 +feet above sea-level; somewhat higher than this toward the southern extremity +of the range, lower toward the northern, on account of the difference in time +of the withdrawal of the glaciers, due to difference in climate. Specimens +occur here and there considerably below this limit, in basins specially +protected from inwashing detritus, or exceptional in size. These, however, are +not sufficiently numerous to make any marked irregularity in the line. The +highest I have yet found lies at an elevation of about 12,000 feet, in a +glacier womb, at the foot of one of the highest of the summit peaks, a few +miles to the north of Mount Hitter. The basins of perhaps twenty-five or thirty +are still in process of formation beneath the few lingering glaciers, but by +the time they are born, an equal or greater number will probably have died. +Since the beginning of the close of the ice-period the whole number in the +range has perhaps never been greater than at present. +</p> + +<p> +A rough approximation to the average duration of these mountain lakes may be +made from data already suggested, but I cannot stop here to present the subject +in detail. I must also forego, in the mean time, the pleasure of a full +discussion of the interesting question of lake-basin formation, for which fine, +clear, demonstrative material abounds in these mountains. In addition to what +has been already given on the subject, I will only make this one statement. +Every lake in the Sierra is a glacier lake. Their basins were not merely +remodeled and scoured out by this mighty agent, but in the first place were +eroded from the solid. +</p> + +<p> +I must now make haste to give some nearer views of representative specimens +lying at different elevations on the main lake-belt, confining myself to +descriptions of the features most characteristic of each. +</p> + +<h4>SHADOW LAKE</h4> + +<p> +This is a fine specimen of the oldest and lowest of the existing lakes. It lies +about eight miles above Yosemite Valley, on the main branch of the Merced, at +an elevation of about 7350 feet above the sea; and is everywhere so securely +cliff-bound that without artificial trails only wild animals can get down to +its rocky shores from any direction. Its original length was about a mile and a +half; now it is only half a mile in length by about a fourth of a mile in +width, and over the lowest portion of the basin ninety-eight feet deep. Its +crystal waters are clasped around on the north and south by majestic granite +walls sculptured in true Yosemitic style into domes, gables, and battlemented +headlands, which on the south come plunging down sheer into deep water, from a +height of from 1500 to 2000 feet. The South Lyell glacier eroded this +magnificent basin out of solid porphyritic granite while forcing its way +westward from the summit fountains toward Yosemite, and the exposed rocks +around the shores, and the projecting bosses of the walls, ground and burnished +beneath the vast ice-flood, still glow with silvery radiance, notwithstanding +the innumerable corroding storms that have fallen upon them. The general +conformation of the basin, as well as the moraines laid along the top of the +walls, and the grooves and scratches on the bottom and sides, indicate in the +most unmistakable manner the direction pursued by this mighty ice-river, its +great depth, and the tremendous energy it exerted in thrusting itself into and +out of the basin; bearing down with superior pressure upon this portion of its +channel, because of the greater declivity, consequently eroding it deeper than +the other portions about it, and producing the lake-bowl as the necessary +result. +</p> + +<p> +With these magnificent ice-characters so vividly before us it is not easy to +realize that the old glacier that made them vanished tens of centuries ago; +for, excepting the vegetation that has sprung up, and the changes effected by +an earthquake that hurled rock-avalanches from the weaker headlands, the basin +as a whole presents the same appearance that it did when first brought to +light. The lake itself, however, has undergone marked changes; one sees at a +glance that it is growing old. More than two thirds of its original area is now +dry land, covered with meadow-grasses and groves of pine and fir, and the level +bed of alluvium stretching across from wall to wall at the head is evidently +growing out all along its lakeward margin, and will at length close the lake +forever. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus16"></a> +<img src="images/img16.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="SHADOW LAKE (MERCED LAKE), YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK" /> +<p class="caption">SHADOW LAKE (MERCED LAKE), YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Every lover of fine wildness would delight to saunter on a summer day through +the flowery groves now occupying the filled-up portion of the basin. The +curving shore is clearly traced by a ribbon of white sand upon which the +ripples play; then comes a belt of broad-leafed sedges, interrupted here and +there by impenetrable tangles of willows; beyond this there are groves of +trembling aspen; then a dark, shadowy belt of Two-leaved Pine, with here and +there a round carex meadow ensconced nest-like in its midst; and lastly, a +narrow outer margin of majestic Silver Fir 200 feet high. The ground beneath +the trees is covered with a luxuriant crop of grasses, chiefly triticum, +bromus, and calamagrostis, with purple spikes and panicles arching to +one’s shoulders; while the open meadow patches glow throughout the summer +with showy flowers,—heleniums, goldenrods, erigerons, lupines, +castilleias, and lilies, and form favorite hiding and feeding-grounds for bears +and deer. +</p> + +<p> +The rugged south wall is feathered darkly along the top with an imposing array +of spirey Silver Firs, while the rifted precipices all the way down to the +water’s edge are adorned with picturesque old junipers, their +cinnamon-colored bark showing finely upon the neutral gray of the granite. +These, with a few venturesome Dwarf Pines and Spruces, lean out over fissured +ribs and tablets, or stand erect back in shadowy niches, in an indescribably +wild and fearless manner. Moreover, the white-flowered Douglas spiraea and +dwarf evergreen oak form graceful fringes along the narrower seams, wherever +the slightest hold can be effected. Rock-ferns, too, are here, such as +allosorus, pellaea, and cheilanthes, making handsome rosettes on the drier +fissures; and the delicate maidenhair, cistoperis, and woodsia hide back in +mossy grottoes, moistened by some trickling rill; and then the orange +wall-flower holds up its showy panicles here and there in the sunshine, and +bahia makes bosses of gold. But, notwithstanding all this plant beauty, the +general impression in looking across the lake is of stern, unflinching +rockiness; the ferns and flowers are scarcely seen, and not one fiftieth of the +whole surface is screened with plant life. +</p> + +<p> +The sunnier north wall is more varied in sculpture, but the general tone is the +same. A few headlands, flat-topped and soil-covered, support clumps of cedar +and pine; and up-curving tangles of chinquapin and live-oak, growing on rough +earthquake taluses, girdle their bases. Small streams come cascading down +between them, their foaming margins brightened with gay primulas, gilias, and +mimuluses. And close along the shore on this side there is a strip of rocky +meadow enameled with buttercups, daisies, and white violets, and the +purple-topped grasses out on its beveled border dip their leaves into the +water. +</p> + +<p> +The lower edge of the basin is a dam-like swell of solid granite, heavily +abraded by the old glacier, but scarce at all cut into as yet by the outflowing +stream, though it has flowed on unceasingly since the lake came into existence. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as the stream is fairly over the lake-lip it breaks into cascades, +never for a moment halting, and scarce abating one jot of its glad energy, +until it reaches the next filled-up basin, a mile below. Then swirling and +curving drowsily through meadow and grove, it breaks forth anew into gray +rapids and falls, leaping and gliding in glorious exuberance of wild bound and +dance down into another and yet another filled-up lake basin. Then, after a +long rest in the levels of Little Yosemite, it makes its grandest display in +the famous Nevada Fall. Out of the clouds of spray at the foot of the fall the +battered, roaring river gropes its way, makes another mile of cascades and +rapids, rests a moment in Emerald Pool, then plunges over the grand cliff of +the Vernal Fall, and goes thundering and chafing down a boulder-choked gorge of +tremendous depth and wildness into the tranquil reaches of the old Yosemite +lake basin. +</p> + +<p> +The color-beauty about Shadow Lake during the Indian summer is much richer than +one could hope to find in so young and so glacial a wilderness. Almost every +leaf is tinted then, and the golden-rods are in bloom; but most of the color is +given by the ripe grasses, willows, and aspens. At the foot of the lake you +stand in a trembling aspen grove, every leaf painted like a butterfly, and away +to right and left round the shores sweeps a curving ribbon of meadow, red and +brown dotted with pale yellow, shading off here and there into hazy purple. The +walls, too, are dashed with bits of bright color that gleam out on the neutral +granite gray. But neither the walls, nor the margin meadow, nor yet the gay, +fluttering grove in which you stand, nor the lake itself, flashing with +spangles, can long hold your attention; for at the head of the lake there is a +gorgeous mass of orange-yellow, belonging to the main aspen belt of the basin, +which seems the very fountain whence all the color below it had flowed, and +here your eye is filled and fixed. This glorious mass is about thirty feet +high, and extends across the basin nearly from wall to wall. Rich bosses of +willow flame in front of it, and from the base of these the brown meadow comes +forward to the water’s edge, the whole being relieved against the +unyielding green of the coniferae, while thick sun-gold is poured over all. +</p> + +<p> +During these blessed color-days no cloud darkens the sky, the winds are gentle, +and the landscape rests, hushed everywhere, and indescribably impressive. A few +ducks are usually seen sailing on the lake, apparently more for pleasure than +anything else, and the ouzels at the head of the rapids sing always; while +robins, grosbeaks, and the Douglas squirrels are busy in the groves, making +delightful company, and intensifying the feeling of grateful sequestration +without ruffling the deep, hushed calm and peace. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus17"></a> +<img src="images/img17.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="VERNAL FALL, YOSEMITE VALLEY" /> +<p class="caption">VERNAL FALL, YOSEMITE VALLEY</p> +</div> + +<p> +This autumnal mellowness usually lasts until the end of November. Then come +days of quite another kind. The winter clouds grow, and bloom, and shed their +starry crystals on every leaf and rock, and all the colors vanish like a +sunset. The deer gather and hasten down their well-known trails, fearful of +being snow-bound. Storm succeeds storm, heaping snow on the cliffs and meadows, +and bending the slender pines to the ground in wide arches, one over the other, +clustering and interlacing like lodged wheat. Avalanches rush and boom from the +shelving heights, piling immense heaps upon the frozen lake, and all the summer +glory is buried and lost. Yet in the midst of this hearty winter the sun shines +warm at times, calling the Douglas squirrel to frisk in the snowy pines and +seek out his hidden stores; and the weather is never so severe as to drive away +the grouse and little nut-hatches and chickadees. +</p> + +<p> +Toward May, the lake begins to open. The hot sun sends down innumerable streams +over the cliffs, streaking them round and round with foam. The snow slowly +vanishes, and the meadows show tintings of green. Then spring comes on apace; +flowers and flies enrich the air and the sod, and the deer come back to the +upper groves like birds to an old nest. +</p> + +<p> +I first discovered this charming lake in the autumn of 1872, while on my way to +the glaciers at the head of the river. It was rejoicing then in its gayest +colors, untrodden, hidden in the glorious wildness like unmined gold. Year +after year I walked its shores without discovering any other trace of humanity +than the remains of an Indian camp-fire, and the thigh-bones of a deer that had +been broken to get at the marrow. It lies out of the regular ways of Indians, +who love to hunt in more accessible fields adjacent to trails. Their knowledge +of deer-haunts had probably enticed them here some hunger-time when they wished +to make sure of a feast; for hunting in this lake-hollow is like hunting in a +fenced park. I had told the beauty of Shadow Lake only to a few friends, +fearing it might come to be trampled and “improved” like Yosemite. +On my last visit, as I was sauntering along the shore on the strip of sand +between the water and sod, reading the tracks of the wild animals that live +here, I was startled by a human track, which I at once saw belonged to some +shepherd; for each step was turned out 35° or 40° from the general course +pursued, and was also run over in an uncertain sprawling fashion at the heel, +while a row of round dots on the right indicated the staff that shepherds +carry. None but a shepherd could make such a track, and after tracing it a few +minutes I began to fear that he might be seeking pasturage; for what else could +he be seeking? Returning from the glaciers shortly afterward, nay worst fears +were realized. A trail had been made down the mountain-side from the north, and +all the gardens and meadows were destroyed by a horde of hoofed locusts, as if +swept by a fire. The money-changers were in the temple. +</p> + +<h4>ORANGE LAKE</h4> + +<p> +Besides these larger cañon lakes, fed by the main cañon streams, there are many +smaller ones lying aloft on the top of rock benches, entirely independent of +the general drainage channels, and of course drawing their supplies from a very +limited area. Notwithstanding they are mostly small and shallow, owing to their +immunity from avalanche detritus and the inwashings of powerful streams, they +often endure longer than others many times larger but less favorably situated. +When very shallow they become dry toward the end of summer; but because their +basins are ground out of seamless stone they suffer no loss save from +evaporation alone; and the great depth of snow that falls, lasting into June, +makes their dry season short in any case. +</p> + +<p> +Orange Lake is a fair illustration of this bench form. It lies in the middle of +a beautiful glacial pavement near the lower margin of the lake-line, about a +mile and a half to the northwest of Shadow Lake. It is only about 100 yards in +circumference. Next the water there is a girdle of carices with wide +overarching leaves, then in regular order a shaggy ruff of huckleberry bushes, +a zone of willows with here and there a bush of the Mountain Ash, then a zone +of aspens with a few pines around the outside. These zones are of course +concentric, and together form a wall beyond which the naked ice-burnished +granite stretches away in every direction, leaving it conspicuously relieved, +like a bunch of palms in a desert. +</p> + +<p> +In autumn, when the colors are ripe, the whole circular grove, at a little +distance, looks like a big handful of flowers set in a cup to be kept +fresh—a tuft of goldenrods. Its feeding-streams are exceedingly +beautiful, notwithstanding their inconstancy and extreme shallowness. They have +no channel whatever, and consequently are left free to spread in thin sheets +upon the shining granite and wander at will. In many places the current is less +than a fourth of an inch deep, and flows with so little friction it is scarcely +visible. Sometimes there is not a single foam-bell, or drifting pine-needle, or +irregularity of any sort to manifest its motion. Yet when observed narrowly it +is seen to form a web of gliding lacework exquisitely woven, giving beautiful +reflections from its minute curving ripples and eddies, and differing from the +water-laces of large cascades in being everywhere transparent. In spring, when +the snow is melting, the lake-bowl is brimming full, and sends forth quite a +large stream that slips glassily for 200 yards or so, until it comes to an +almost vertical precipice 800 feet high, down which it plunges in a fine +cataract; then it gathers its scattered waters and goes smoothly over folds of +gently dipping granite to its confluence with the main cañon stream. During the +greater portion of the year, however, not a single water sound will you hear +either at head or foot of the lake, not oven the whispered lappings of +ripple-waves along the shore; for the winds are fenced out. But the deep +mountain silence is sweetened now and then by birds that stop here to rest and +drink on their way across the cañon. +</p> + +<h4>LAKE STARR KING</h4> + +<p> +A beautiful variety of the bench-top lakes occurs just where the great lateral +moraines of the main glaciers have been shoved forward in outswelling +concentric rings by small residual tributary glaciers. Instead of being +encompassed by a narrow ring of trees like Orange Lake, these lie embosomed in +dense moraine woods, so dense that in seeking them you may pass them by again +and again, although you may know nearly where they lie concealed. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus18"></a> +<img src="images/img18.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="LAKE STARR KING" /> +<p class="caption">LAKE STARR KING.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Lake Starr King, lying to the north of the cone of that name, above the Little +Yosemite Valley, is a fine specimen of this variety. The ouzels pass it by, and +so do the ducks; they could hardly get into it if they would, without plumping +straight down inside the circling trees. +</p> + +<p> +Yet these isolated gems, lying like fallen fruit detached from the branches, +are not altogether without inhabitants and joyous, animating visitors. Of +course fishes cannot get into them, and this is generally true of nearly every +glacier lake in the range, but they are all well stocked with happy frogs. How +did the frogs get into them in the first place? Perhaps their sticky spawn was +carried in on the feet of ducks or other birds, else their progenitors must +have made some exciting excursions through the woods and up the sides of the +cañons. Down in the still, pure depths of these hidden lakelets you may also +find the larvae of innumerable insects and a great variety of beetles, while +the air above them is thick with humming wings, through the midst of which +fly-catchers are constantly darting. And in autumn, when the huckleberries are +ripe, bands of robins and grosbeaks come to feast, forming altogether +delightful little byworlds for the naturalist. +</p> + +<p> +Pushing our way upward toward the axis of the range, we find lakes in greater +and greater abundance, and more youthful in aspect. At an elevation of about +9000 feet above sea-level they seem to have arrived at middle age,—that +is, their basins seem to be about half filled with alluvium. Broad sheets of +meadow-land are seen extending into them, imperfect and boggy in many places +and more nearly level than those of the older lakes below them, and the +vegetation of their shores is of course more alpine. Kalmia, lodum, and +cassiope fringe the meadow rocks, while the luxuriant, waving groves, so +characteristic of the lower lakes, are represented only by clumps of the Dwarf +Pine and Hemlock Spruce. These, however, are oftentimes very picturesquely +grouped on rocky headlands around the outer rim of the meadows, or with still +more striking effect crown some rocky islet. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, from causes that we cannot stop here to explain, the cliffs about +these middle-aged lakes are seldom of the massive Yosemite type, but are more +broken, and less sheer, and they usually stand back, leaving the shores +comparatively free; while the few precipitous rocks that do come forward and +plunge directly into deep water are seldom more than three or four hundred feet +high. +</p> + +<p> +I have never yet met ducks in any of the lakes of this kind, but the ouzel is +never wanting where the feeding-streams are perennial. Wild sheep and deer may +occasionally be seen on the meadows, and very rarely a bear. One might camp on +the rugged shores of these bright fountains for weeks, without meeting any +animal larger than the marmots that burrow beneath glacier boulders along the +edges of the meadows. +</p> + +<p> +The highest and youngest of all the lakes lie nestled in glacier wombs. At +first sight, they seem pictures of pure bloodless desolation, miniature arctic +seas, bound in perpetual ice and snow, and overshadowed by harsh, gloomy, +crumbling precipices. Their waters are keen ultramarine blue in the deepest +parts, lively grass-green toward the shore shallows and around the edges of the +small bergs usually floating about in them. A few hardy sedges, frost-pinched +every night, are occasionally found making soft sods along the sun-touched +portions of their shores, and when their northern banks slope openly to the +south, and are soil-covered, no matter how coarsely, they are sure to be +brightened with flowers. One lake in particular now comes to mind which +illustrates the floweriness of the sun-touched banks of these icy gems. Close +up under the shadow of the Sierra Matterhorn, on the eastern slope of the +range, lies one of the iciest of these glacier lakes at an elevation of about +12,000 feet. A short, ragged-edged glacier crawls into it from the south, and +on the opposite side it is embanked and dammed by a series of concentric +terminal moraines, made by the glacier when it entirely filled the basin. Half +a mile below lies a second lake, at a height of 11,500 feet, about as cold and +as pure as a snow-crystal. The waters of the first come gurgling down into it +over and through the moraine dam, while a second stream pours into it direct +from a glacier that lies to the southeast. Sheer precipices of crystalline snow +rise out of deep water on the south, keeping perpetual winter on that side, but +there is a fine summery spot on the other, notwithstanding the lake is only +about 300 yards wide. Here, on August 25, 1873, I found a charming company of +flowers, not pinched, crouching dwarfs, scarce able to look up, but warm and +juicy, standing erect in rich cheery color and bloom. On a narrow strip of +shingle, close to the water’s edge, there were a few tufts of carex gone +to seed; and a little way back up the rocky bank at the foot of a crumbling +wall so inclined as to absorb and radiate as well as reflect a considerable +quantity of sun-heat, was the garden, containing a thrifty thicket of Cowania +covered with large yellow flowers; several bushes of the alpine ribes with +berries nearly ripe and wildly acid; a few handsome grasses belonging to two +distinct species, and one goldenrod; a few hairy lupines and radiant spragueas, +whose blue and rose-colored flowers were set off to fine advantage amid green +carices; and along a narrow seam in the very warmest angle of the wall a +perfectly gorgeous fringe of <i>Epilobium obcordatum</i> with flowers an inch +wide, crowded together in lavish profusion, and colored as royal a purple as +ever was worn by any high-bred plant of the tropics; and best of all, and +greatest of all, a noble thistle in full bloom, standing erect, head and +shoulders above his companions, and thrusting out his lances in sturdy vigor as +if growing on a Scottish brae. All this brave warm bloom among the raw stones, +right in the face of the onlooking glaciers. +</p> + +<p> +As far as I have been able to find out, these upper lakes are snow-buried in +winter to a depth of about thirty-five or forty feet, and those most exposed to +avalanches, to a depth of even a hundred feet or more. These last are, of +course, nearly lost to the landscape. Some remain buried for years, when the +snowfall is exceptionally great, and many open only on one side late in the +season. The snow of the closed side is composed of coarse granules compacted +and frozen into a firm, faintly stratified mass, like the <i>névé</i> of a +glacier. The lapping waves of the open portion gradually undermine and cause it +to break off in large masses like icebergs, which gives rise to a precipitous +front like the discharging wall of a glacier entering the sea. The play of the +lights among the crystal angles of these snow-cliffs, the pearly white of the +outswelling bosses, the bergs drifting in front, aglow in the sun and edged +with green water, and the deep blue disk of the lake itself extending to your +feet,—this forms a picture that enriches all your afterlife, and is never +forgotten. But however perfect the season and the day, the cold incompleteness +of these young lakes is always keenly felt. We approach them with a kind of +mean caution, and steal unconfidingly around their crystal shores, dashed and +ill at ease, as if expecting to hear some forbidding voice. But the love-songs +of the ouzels and the love-looks of the daisies gradually reassure us, and +manifest the warm fountain humanity that pervades the coldest and most solitary +of them all. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII<br/> +THE GLACIER MEADOWS</h2> + +<p> +After the lakes on the High Sierra come the glacier meadows. They are smooth, +level, silky lawns, lying embedded in the upper forests, on the floors of the +valleys, and along the broad backs of the main dividing ridges, at a height of +about 8000 to 9500 feet above the sea. +</p> + +<p> +They are nearly as level as the lakes whose places they have taken, and present +a dry, even surface free from rock-heaps, mossy bogginess, and the frowsy +roughness of rank, coarse-leaved, weedy, and shrubby vegetation. The sod is +close and fine, and so complete that you cannot see the ground; and at the same +time so brightly enameled with flowers and butterflies that it may well be +called a garden-meadow, or meadow-garden; for the plushy sod is in many places +so crowded with gentians, daisies, ivesias, and various species of orthocarpus +that the grass is scarcely noticeable, while in others the flowers are only +pricked in here and there singly, or in small ornamental rosettes. +</p> + +<p> +The most influential of the grasses composing the sod is a delicate +calamagrostis with fine filiform leaves, and loose, airy panicles that seem to +float above the flowery lawn like a purple mist. But, write as I may, I cannot +give anything like an adequate idea of the exquisite beauty of these mountain +carpets as they lie smoothly outspread in the savage wilderness. What words are +fine enough to picture them I to what shall we liken them? The flowery levels +of the prairies of the old West, the luxuriant savannahs of the South, and the +finest of cultivated meadows are coarse in comparison. One may at first sight +compare them with the carefully tended lawns of pleasure-grounds; for they are +as free from weeds as they, and as smooth, but here the likeness ends; for +these wild lawns, with all their exquisite fineness, have no trace of that +painful, licked, snipped, repressed appearance that pleasure-ground lawns are +apt to have even when viewed at a distance. And, not to mention the flowers +with which they are brightened, their grasses are very much finer both in color +and texture, and instead of lying flat and motionless, matted together like a +dead green cloth, they respond to the touches of every breeze, rejoicing in +pure wildness, blooming and fruiting in the vital light. +</p> + +<p> +Glacier meadows abound throughout all the alpine and subalpine regions of the +Sierra in still greater numbers than the lakes. Probably from 2500 to 3000 +exist between latitude 36° 30′ and 39°, distributed, of course, like the +lakes, in concordance with all the other glacial features of the landscape. +</p> + +<p> +On the head waters of the rivers there are what are called “Big +Meadows,” usually about from five to ten miles long. These occupy the +basins of the ancient ice-seas, where many tributary glaciers came together to +form the grand trunks. Most, however, are quite small, averaging perhaps but +little more than three fourths of a mile in length. +</p> + +<p> +One of the very finest of the thousands I have enjoyed lies hidden in an +extensive forest of the Two-leaved Pine, on the edge of the basin of the +ancient Tuolumne Mer de Glace, about eight miles to the west of Mount Dana. +</p> + +<p> +Imagine yourself at the Tuolumne Soda Springs on the bank of the river, a +day’s journey above Yosemite Valley. You set off northward through a +forest that stretches away indefinitely before you, seemingly unbroken by +openings of any kind. As soon as you are fairly into the woods, the gray +mountain-peaks, with their snowy gorges and hollows, are lost to view. The +ground is littered with fallen trunks that lie crossed and recrossed like +storm-lodged wheat; and besides this close forest of pines, the rich moraine +soil supports a luxuriant growth of ribbon-leaved grasses—bromus, +triticum, calamagrostis, agrostis, etc., which rear their handsome spikes and +panicles above your waist. Making your way through the fertile +wilderness,—finding lively bits of interest now and then in the squirrels +and Clark crows, and perchance in a deer or bear,—after the lapse of an +hour or two vertical bars of sunshine are seen ahead between the brown shafts +of the pines, showing that you are approaching an open space, and then you +suddenly emerge from the forest shadows upon a delightful purple lawn lying +smooth and free in the light like a lake. This is a glacier meadow. It is about +a mile and a half long by a quarter of a mile wide. The trees come pressing +forward all around in close serried ranks, planting their feet exactly on its +margin, and holding themselves erect, strict and orderly like soldiers on +parade; thus bounding the meadow with exquisite precision, yet with free +curving lines such as Nature alone can draw. With inexpressible delight you +wade out into the grassy sun-lake, feeling yourself contained in one of +Nature’s most sacred chambers, withdrawn from the sterner influences of +the mountains, secure from all intrusion, secure from yourself, free in the +universal beauty. And notwithstanding the scene is so impressively spiritual, +and you seem dissolved in it, yet everything about you is beating with warm, +terrestrial, human love and life delightfully substantial and familiar. The +resiny pines are types of health and steadfastness; the robins feeding on the +sod belong to the same species you have known since childhood; and surely these +daisies, larkspurs, and goldenrods are the very friend-flowers of the old home +garden. Bees hum as in a harvest noon, butterflies waver above the flowers, and +like them you lave in the vital sunshine, too richly and homogeneously +joy-filled to be capable of partial thought. You are all eye, sifted through +and through with light and beauty. Sauntering along the brook that meanders +silently through the meadow from the east, special flowers call you back to +discriminating consciousness. The sod comes curving down to the water’s +edge, forming bossy outswelling banks, and in some places overlapping +countersunk boulders and forming bridges. Here you find mats of the curious +dwarf willow scarce an inch high, yet sending up a multitude of gray silky +catkins, illumined here and there with, the purple cups and bells of bryanthus +and vaccinium. +</p> + +<p> +Go where you may, you everywhere find the lawn divinely beautiful, as if Nature +had fingered and adjusted every plant this very day. The floating grass +panicles are scarcely felt in brushing through their midst, so flue are they, +and none of the flowers have tall or rigid stalks. In the brightest places you +find three species of gentians with different shades of blue, daisies pure as +the sky, silky leaved ivesias with warm yellow flowers, several species of +orthocarpus with blunt, bossy spikes, red and purple and yellow; the alpine +goldenrod, pentstemon, and clover, fragrant and honeyful, with their colors +massed and blended. Parting the grasses and looking more closely you may trace +the branching of their shining stems, and note the marvelous beauty of their +mist of flowers, the glumes and pales exquisitely penciled, the yellow dangling +stamens, and feathery pistils. Beneath the lowest leaves you discover a fairy +realm of mosses,—hypnum, dicranum, polytriclium, and many +others,—their precious spore-cups poised daintily on polished shafts, +curiously hooded, or open, showing the richly ornate peristomas worn like royal +crowns. Creeping liverworts are here also in abundance, and several rare +species of fungi, exceedingly small, and frail, and delicate, as if made only +for beauty. Caterpillars, black beetles, and ants roam the wilds of this lower +world, making their way through miniature groves and thickets like bears in a +thick wood. +</p> + +<p> +And how rich, too, is the life of the sunny air! Every leaf and flower seems to +have its winged representative overhead. Dragon-flies shoot in vigorous zigzags +through the dancing swarms, and a rich profusion of butterflies—the +leguminosae of insects—make a fine addition to the general show. Many of +these last are comparatively small at this elevation, and as yet almost unknown +to science; but every now and then a familiar vanessa or papilio comes sailing +past. Humming-birds, too, are quite common here, and the robin is always found +along the margin of the stream, or out in the shallowest portions of the sod, +and sometimes the grouse and mountain quail, with their broods of precious +fluffy chickens. Swallows skim the grassy lake from end to end, fly-catchers +come and go in fitful flights from the tops of dead spars, while woodpeckers +swing across from side to side in graceful festoon curves,—birds, +insects, and flowers all in their own way telling a deep summer joy. +</p> + +<p> +The influences of pure nature seem to be so little known as yet, that it is +generally supposed that complete pleasure of this kind, permeating one’s +very flesh and bones, unfits the student for scientific pursuits in which cool +judgment and observation are required. But the effect is just the opposite. +Instead of producing a dissipated condition, the mind is fertilized and +stimulated and developed like sun-fed plants. All that we have seen here +enables us to see with surer vision the fountains among the summit-peaks to the +east whence flowed the glaciers that ground soil for the surrounding forest; +and down at the foot of the meadow the moraine which formed the dam which gave +rise to the lake that occupied this basin before the meadow was made; and +around the margin the stones that were shoved back and piled up into a rude +wall by the expansion of the lake ice during long bygone winters; and along the +sides of the streams the slight hollows of the meadow which mark those portions +of the old lake that were the last to vanish. +</p> + +<p> +I would fain ask my readers to linger awhile in this fertile wilderness, to +trace its history from its earliest glacial beginnings, and learn what we may +of its wild inhabitants and visitors. How happy the birds are all summer and +some of them all winter; how the pouched marmots drive tunnels under the snow, +and how fine and brave a life the slandered coyote lives here, and the deer and +bears! But, knowing well the difference between reading and seeing, I will only +ask attention to some brief sketches of its varying aspects as they are +presented throughout the more marked seasons of the year. +</p> + +<p> +The summer life we have been depicting lasts with but little abatement until +October, when the night frosts begin to sting, bronzing the grasses, and +ripening the leaves of the creeping heathworts along the banks of the stream to +reddish purple and crimson; while the flowers disappear, all save the +goldenrods and a few daisies, that continue to bloom on unscathed until the +beginning of snowy winter. In still nights the grass panicles and every leaf +and stalk are laden with frost crystals, through which the morning sunbeams +sift in ravishing splendor, transforming each to a precious diamond radiating +the colors of the rainbow. The brook shallows are plaited across and across +with slender lances of ice, but both these and the grass crystals are melted +before midday, and, notwithstanding the great elevation of the meadow, the +afternoons are still warm enough to revive the chilled butterflies and call +them out to enjoy the late-flowering goldenrods. The divine alpenglow flushes +the surrounding forest every evening, followed by a crystal night with hosts of +lily stars, whose size and brilliancy cannot be conceived by those who have +never risen above the lowlands. +</p> + +<p> +Thus come and go the bright sun-days of autumn, not a cloud in the sky, week +after week until near December. Then comes a sudden change. Clouds of a +peculiar aspect with a slow, crawling gait gather and grow in the azure, +throwing out satiny fringes, and becoming gradually darker until every +lake-like rift and opening is closed and the whole bent firmament is obscured +in equal structureless gloom. Then comes the snow, for the clouds are ripe, the +meadows of the sky are in bloom, and shed their radiant blossoms like an +orchard in the spring. Lightly, lightly they lodge in the brown grasses and in +the tasseled needles of the pines, falling hour after hour, day after day, +silently, lovingly,—all the winds hushed,—glancing and circling +hither, thither, glinting against one another, rays interlocking in flakes as +large as daisies; and then the dry grasses, and the trees, and the stones are +all equally abloom again. Thunder-showers occur here during the summer months, +and impressive it is to watch the coming of the big transparent drops, each a +small world in itself,—one unbroken ocean without islands hurling free +through the air like planets through space. But still more impressive to me is +the coming of the snow-flowers,—falling stars, winter +daisies,—giving bloom to all the ground alike. Raindrops blossom +brilliantly in the rainbow, and change to flowers in the sod, but snow comes in +full flower direct from the dark, frozen sky. +</p> + +<p> +The later snow-storms are oftentimes accompanied by winds that break up the +crystals, when the temperature is low, into single petals and irregular dusty +fragments; but there is comparatively little drifting on the meadow, so +securely is it embosomed in the woods. From December to May, storm succeeds +storm, until the snow is about fifteen or twenty feet deep, but the surface is +always as smooth as the breast of a bird. +</p> + +<p> +Hushed now is the life that so late was beating warmly. Most of the birds have +gone down below the snow-line, the plants sleep, and all the fly-wings are +folded. Yet the sun beams gloriously many a cloudless day in midwinter, casting +long lance shadows athwart the dazzling expanse. In June small flecks of the +dead, decaying sod begin to appear, gradually widening and uniting with one +another, covered with creeping rags of water during the day, and ice by night, +looking as hopeless and unvital as crushed rocks just emerging from the +darkness of the glacial period. Walk the meadow now! Scarce the memory of a +flower will you find. The ground seems twice dead. Nevertheless, the annual +resurrection is drawing near. The life-giving sun pours his floods, the last +snow-wreath melts, myriads of growing points push eagerly through the steaming +mold, the birds come back, new wings fill the air, and fervid summer life comes +surging on, seemingly yet more glorious than before. +</p> + +<p> +This is a perfect meadow, and under favorable circumstances exists without +manifesting any marked changes for centuries. Nevertheless, soon or late it +must inevitably grow old and vanish. During the calm Indian summer, scarce a +sand-grain moves around its banks, but in flood-times and storm-times, soil is +washed forward upon it and laid in successive sheets around its gently sloping +rim, and is gradually extended to the center, making it dryer. Through a +considerable period the meadow vegetation is not greatly affected thereby, for +it gradually rises with the rising ground, keeping on the surface like +water-plants rising on the swell of waves. But at length the elevation of the +meadow-land goes on so far as to produce too dry a soil for the specific +meadow-plants, when, of course, they have to give up their places to others +fitted for the new conditions. The most characteristic of the newcomers at this +elevation above the sea are principally sun-loving gilias, eriogonae, and +compositae, and finally forest-trees. Henceforward the obscuring changes are so +manifold that the original lake-meadow can be unveiled and seen only by the +geologist. +</p> + +<p> +Generally speaking, glacier lakes vanish more slowly than the meadows that +succeed them, because, unless very shallow, a greater quantity of material is +required to fill up their basins and obliterate them than is required to render +the surface of the meadow too high and dry for meadow vegetation. Furthermore, +owing to the weathering to which the adjacent rocks are subjected, material of +the finer sort, susceptible of transportation by rains and ordinary floods, is +more abundant during the meadow period than during the lake period. Yet +doubtless many a fine meadow favorably situated exists in almost prime beauty +for thousands of years, the process of extinction being exceedingly slow, as we +reckon time. This is especially the case with meadows circumstanced like the +one we have described—embosomed in deep woods, with the ground rising +gently away from it all around, the network of tree-roots in which all the +ground is clasped preventing any rapid torrential washing. But, in exceptional +cases, beautiful lawns formed with great deliberation are overwhelmed and +obliterated at once by the action of land-slips, earthquake avalanches, or +extraordinary floods, just as lakes are. +</p> + +<p> +In those glacier meadows that take the places of shallow lakes which have been +fed by feeble streams, glacier mud and fine vegetable humus enter largely into +the composition of the soil; and on account of the shallowness of this soil, +and the seamless, water-tight, undrained condition of the rock-basins, they are +usually wet, and therefore occupied by tall grasses and sedges, whose coarse +appearance offers a striking contrast to that of the delicate lawn-making kind +described above. These shallow-soiled meadows are oftentimes still further +roughened and diversified by partially buried moraines and swelling bosses of +the bed-rock, which, with the trees and shrubs growing upon them, produce a +striking effect as they stand in relief like islands in the grassy level, or +sweep across in rugged curves from one forest wall to the other. +</p> + +<p> +Throughout the upper meadow region, wherever water is sufficiently abundant and +low in temperature, in basins secure from flood-washing, handsome bogs are +formed with a deep growth of brown and yellow sphagnum picturesquely ruined +with patches of kalmia and ledum which ripen masses of beautiful color in the +autumn. Between these cool, spongy bogs and the dry, flowery meadows there are +many interesting varieties which are graduated into one another by the varied +conditions already alluded to, forming a series of delightful studies. +</p> + +<h4>HANGING MEADOWS</h4> + +<p> +Another, very well-marked and interesting kind of meadow, differing greatly +both in origin and appearance from the lake-meadows, is found lying aslant upon +moraine-covered hillsides trending in the direction of greatest declivity, +waving up and down over rock heaps and ledges, like rich green ribbons +brilliantly illumined with tall flowers. They occur both in the alpine and +subalpine regions in considerable numbers, and never fail to make telling +features in the landscape. They are often a mile or more in length, but never +very wide—usually from thirty to fifty yards. When the mountain or cañon +side on which, they lie dips at the required angle, and other conditions are at +the same time favorable, they extend from above the timber line to the bottom +of a cañon or lake basin, descending in fine, fluent lines like cascades, +breaking here and there into a kind of spray on large boulders, or dividing and +flowing around on either side of some projecting islet. Sometimes a noisy +stream goes brawling down through them, and again, scarcely a drop of water is +in sight. They owe their existence, however, to streams, whether visible or +invisible, the wildest specimens being found where some perennial fountain, as +a glacier or snowbank or moraine spring sends down its waters across a rough +sheet of soil in a dissipated web of feeble, oozing rivulets. These conditions +give rise to a meadowy vegetation, whose extending roots still more obstruct +the free flow of the waters, and tend to dissipate them out over a yet wider +area. Thus the moraine soil and the necessary moisture requisite for the better +class of meadow plants are at times combined about as perfectly as if smoothly +outspread on a level surface. Where the soil happens to be composed of the +finer qualities of glacial detritus and the water is not in excess, the nearest +approach is made by the vegetation to that of the lake-meadow. But where, as is +more commonly the case, the soil is coarse and bouldery, the vegetation is +correspondingly rank. Tall, wide-leaved grasses take their places along the +sides, and rushes and nodding carices in the wetter portions, mingled with the +most beautiful and imposing flowers,—orange lilies and larkspurs seven or +eight feet high, lupines, senecios, aliums, painted-cups, many species of +mimulus and pentstemon, the ample boat-leaved <i>veratrum alba</i>, and the +magnificent alpine columbine, with spurs an inch and a half long. At an +elevation of from seven to nine thousand feet showy flowers frequently form the +bulk of the vegetation; then the hanging meadows become hanging gardens. +</p> + +<p> +In rare instances we find an alpine basin the bottom of which is a perfect +meadow, and the sides nearly all the way round, rising in gentle curves, are +covered with moraine soil, which, being saturated with melting snow from +encircling fountains, gives rise to an almost continuous girdle of down-curving +meadow vegetation that blends gracefully into the level meadow at the bottom, +thus forming a grand, smooth, soft, meadow-lined mountain nest. It is in +meadows of this sort that the mountain beaver (<i>Haplodon</i>) loves to make +his home, excavating snug chambers beneath the sod, digging canals, turning the +underground waters from channel to channel to suit his convenience, and feeding +the vegetation. +</p> + +<p> +Another kind of meadow or bog occurs on densely timbered hillsides where small +perennial streams have been dammed at short intervals by fallen trees. Still +another kind is found hanging down smooth, flat precipices, while corresponding +leaning meadows rise to meet them. +</p> + +<p> +There are also three kinds of small pot-hole meadows one of which is found +along the banks of the main streams, another on the summits of rocky ridges, +and the third on glacier pavements, all of them interesting in origin and +brimful of plant beauty. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br/> +THE FORESTS</h2> + +<p> +The coniferous forests of the Sierra are the grandest and most beautiful in the +world, and grow in a delightful climate on the most interesting and accessible +of mountain-ranges, yet strange to say they are not well known. More than sixty +years ago David Douglas, an enthusiastic botanist and tree lover, wandered +alone through fine sections of the Sugar Pine and Silver Fir woods wild with +delight. A few years later, other botanists made short journeys from the coast +into the lower woods. Then came the wonderful multitude of miners into the +foot-hill zone, mostly blind with gold-dust, soon followed by +“sheepmen,” who, with wool over their eyes, chased their flocks +through all the forest belts from one end of the range to the other. Then the +Yosemite Valley was discovered, and thousands of admiring tourists passed +through sections of the lower and middle zones on their way to that wonderful +park, and gained fine glimpses of the Sugar Pines and Silver Firs along the +edges of dusty trails and roads. But few indeed, strong and free with eyes +undimmed with care, have gone far enough and lived long enough with the trees +to gain anything like a loving conception of their grandeur and significance as +manifested in the harmonies of their distribution and varying aspects +throughout the seasons, as they stand arrayed in their winter garb rejoicing in +storms, putting forth their fresh leaves in the spring while steaming with +resiny fragrance, receiving the thunder-showers of summer, or reposing +heavy-laden with ripe cones in the rich sungold of autumn. For knowledge of +this kind one must dwell with the trees and grow with them, without any +reference to time in the almanac sense. +</p> + +<p> +The distribution of the general forest in belts is readily perceived. These, as +we have seen, extend in regular order from one extremity of the range to the +other; and however dense and somber they may appear in general views, neither +on the rocky heights nor down in the leafiest hollows will you find anything to +remind you of the dank, malarial selvas of the Amazon and Orinoco, with, their +“boundless contiguity of shade,” the monotonous uniformity of the +Deodar forests of the Himalaya, the Black Forest of Europe, or the dense dark +woods of Douglas Spruce where rolls the Oregon. The giant pines, and firs, and +Sequoias hold their arms open to the sunlight, rising above one another on the +mountain benches, marshaled in glorious array, giving forth the utmost +expression of grandeur and beauty with inexhaustible variety and harmony. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus19"></a> +<img src="images/img19.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="VIEW IN THE SIERRA FOREST." /> +<p class="caption">VIEW IN THE SIERRA FOREST.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The inviting openness of the Sierra woods is one of their most distinguishing +characteristics. The trees of all the species stand more or less apart in +groves, or in small, irregular groups, enabling one to find a way nearly +everywhere, along sunny colonnades and through openings that have a smooth, +park-like surface, strewn with brown needles and burs. Now you cross a wild +garden, now a meadow, now a ferny, willowy stream; and ever and anon you emerge +from all the groves and flowers upon some granite pavement or high, bare ridge +commanding superb views above the waving sea of evergreens far and near. +</p> + +<p> +One would experience but little difficulty in riding on horseback through the +successive belts all the way up to the storm-beaten fringes of the icy peaks. +The deep cañons, however, that extend from the axis of the range, cut the belts +more or less completely into sections, and prevent the mounted traveler from +tracing them lengthwise. +</p> + +<p> +This simple arrangement in zones and sections brings the forest, as a whole, +within the comprehension of every observer. The different species are ever +found occupying the same relative positions to one another, as controlled by +soil, climate, and the comparative vigor of each species in taking and holding +the ground; and so appreciable are these relations, one need never be at a loss +in determining, within a few hundred feet, the elevation above sea-level by the +trees alone; for, notwithstanding some of the species range upward for several +thousand feet, and all pass one another more or less, yet even those possessing +the greatest vertical range are available in this connection, in as much as +they take on new forms corresponding with the variations in altitude. +</p> + +<p> +Crossing the treeless plains of the Sacramento and San Joaquin from the west +and reaching the Sierra foot-hills, you enter the lower fringe of the forest, +composed of small oaks and pines, growing so far apart that not one twentieth +of the surface of the ground is in shade at clear noonday. After advancing +fifteen or twenty miles, and making an ascent of from two to three thousand +feet, you reach the lower margin of the main pine belt, composed of the +gigantic Sugar Pine, Yellow Pine, Incense Cedar, and Sequoia. Next you come to +the magnificent Silver Fir belt, and lastly to the upper pine belt, which +sweeps up the rocky acclivities of the summit peaks in a dwarfed, wavering +fringe to a height of from ten to twelve thousand feet. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus20"></a> +<img src="images/img20.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="EDGE OF THE TIMBER LINE ON MOUNT SHASTA" /> +<p class="caption">EDGE OF THE TIMBER LINE ON MOUNT SHASTA.</p> +</div> + +<p> +This general order of distribution, with reference to climate dependent on +elevation, is perceived at once, but there are other harmonies, as far-reaching +in this connection, that become manifest only after patient observation and +study. Perhaps the most interesting of these is the arrangement of the forests +in long, curving bands, braided together into lace-like patterns, and outspread +in charming variety. The key to this beautiful harmony is the ancient glaciers; +where they flowed the trees followed, tracing their wavering courses along +cañons, over ridges, and over high, rolling plateaus. The Cedars of Lebanon, +says Hooker, are growing upon one of the moraines of an ancient glacier. All +the forests of the Sierra are growing upon moraines. But moraines vanish like +the glaciers that make them. Every storm that falls upon them wastes them, +cutting gaps, disintegrating boulders, and carrying away their decaying +material into new formations, until at length they are no longer recognizable +by any save students, who trace their transitional forms down from the fresh +moraines still in process of formation, through those that are more and more +ancient, and more and more obscured by vegetation and all kinds of post-glacial +weathering. +</p> + +<p> +Had the ice-sheet that once covered all the range been melted simultaneously +from the foot-hills to the summits, the flanks would, of course, have been left +almost bare of soil, and these noble forests would be wanting. Many groves and +thickets would undoubtedly have grown up on lake and avalanche beds, and many a +fair flower and shrub would have found food and a dwelling-place in weathered +nooks and crevices, but the Sierra as a whole would have been a bare, rocky +desert. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus21"></a> +<img src="images/img21.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="VIEW IN THE MAIN PINE BELT OF THE SIERRA FOREST." /> +<p class="caption">VIEW IN THE MAIN PINE BELT OF THE SIERRA FOREST.</p> +</div> + +<p> +It appears, therefore, that the Sierra forests in general indicate the extent +and positions of the ancient moraines as well as they do lines of climate. For +forests, properly speaking, cannot exist without soil; and, since the moraines +have been deposited upon the solid rock, and only upon elected places, leaving +a considerable portion of the old glacial surface bare, we find luxuriant +forests of pine and fir abruptly terminated by scored and polished pavements on +which not even a moss is growing, though soil alone is required to fit them for +the growth of trees 200 feet in height. +</p> + +<h4> +THE NUT PINE<br/> +<small>(<i>Pinus Sabiniana</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +The Nut Pine, the first conifer met in ascending the range from the west, grows +only on the torrid foothills, seeming to delight in the most ardent sun-heat, +like a palm; springing up here and there singly, or in scattered groups of five +or six, among scrubby White Oaks and thickets of ceanothus and manzanita; its +extreme upper limit being about 4000 feet above the sea, its lower about from +500 to 800 feet. +</p> + +<p> +This tree is remarkable for its airy, widespread, tropical appearance, which +suggests a region of palms, rather than cool, resiny pine woods. No one would +take it at first sight to be a conifer of any kind, it is so loose in habit and +so widely branched, and its foliage is so thin and gray. Full-grown specimens +are from forty to fifty feet in height, and from two to three feet in diameter. +The trunk usually divides into three or four main branches, about fifteen and +twenty feet from the ground, which, after bearing away from one another, shoot +straight up and form separate summits; while the crooked subordinate branches +aspire, and radiate, and droop in ornamental sprays. The slender, grayish-green +needles are from eight to twelve inches long, loosely tasseled, and inclined to +droop in handsome curves, contrasting with the stiff, dark-colored trunk and +branches in a very striking manner. No other tree of my acquaintance, so +substantial in body, is in its foliage so thin and so pervious to the light. +The sunbeams sift through even the leafiest trees with scarcely any +interruption, and the weary, heated traveler finds but little protection in +their shade. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus22"></a> +<img src="images/img22.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="THE NUT PINE" /> +<p class="caption">THE NUT PINE (<i>Pinus Sabiniana</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p> +The generous crop of nutritious nuts which the Nut Pine yields makes it a +favorite with Indians, bears, and squirrels. The cones are most beautiful, +measuring from five to eight inches in length, and not much less in thickness, +rich chocolate-brown in color, and protected by strong, down-curving hooks +which terminate the scales. Nevertheless, the little Douglas squirrel can open +them. Indians gathering the ripe nuts make a striking picture. The men climb +the trees like bears and beat off the cones with sticks, or recklessly cut off +the more fruitful branches with hatchets, while the squaws gather the big, +generous cones, and roast them until the scales open sufficiently to allow the +hard-shelled seeds to be beaten out. Then, in the cool evenings, men, women, +and children, with their capacity for dirt greatly increased by the soft resin +with which they are all bedraggled, form circles around camp-fires, on the bank +of the nearest stream, and lie in easy independence cracking nuts and laughing +and chattering, as heedless of the future as the squirrels. +</p> + +<h4> +<i>Pinus tuberculata</i> +</h4> + +<p> +This curious little pine is found at an elevation of from 1500 to 3000 feet, +growing in close, willowy groves. It is exceedingly slender and graceful in +habit, although trees that chance to stand alone outside the groves sweep forth +long, curved branches, producing a striking contrast to the ordinary grove +form. The foliage is of the same peculiar gray-green color as that of the Nut +Pine, and is worn about as loosely, so that the body of the tree is scarcely +obscured by it. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus23"></a> +<img src="images/img23.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="THE GROVE FORM. THE ISOLATED FORM (PINUS TUBERCULATA)" /> +<p class="caption">THE GROVE FORM. THE ISOLATED FORM (PINUS TUBERCULATA).</p> +</div> + +<p> +At the age of seven or eight years it begins to bear cones, not on branches, +but on the main axis, and, as they never fall off, the trunk is soon +picturesquely dotted with them. The branches also become fruitful after they +attain sufficient size. The average size of the older trees is about thirty or +forty feet in height, and twelve to fourteen inches in diameter. The cones are +about four inches long, exceedingly hard, and covered with a sort of silicious +varnish and gum, rendering them impervious to moisture, evidently with a view +to the careful preservation of the seeds. +</p> + +<p> +No other conifer in the range is so closely restricted to special localities. +It is usually found apart, standing deep in chaparral on sunny hill-and +cañon-sides where there is but little depth of soil, and, where found at all, +it is quite plentiful; but the ordinary traveler, following carriage-roads and +trails, may ascend the range many times without meeting it. +</p> + +<p> +While exploring the lower portion of the Merced Cañon I found a lonely miner +seeking his fortune in a quartz vein on a wild mountain-side planted with this +singular tree. He told me that he called it the Hickory Pine, because of the +whiteness and toughness of the wood. It is so little known, however, that it +can hardly be said to have a common name. Most mountaineers refer to it as +“that queer little pine-tree covered all over with burs.” In my +studies of this species I found a very interesting and significant group of +facts, whose relations will be seen almost as soon as stated: +</p> + +<p> +1st. All the trees in the groves I examined, however unequal in size, are of +the same age. +</p> + +<p> +2d. Those groves are all planted on dry hillsides covered with chaparral, and +therefore are liable to be swept by fire. +</p> + +<p> +3d. There are no seedlings or saplings in or about the living groves, but there +is always a fine, hopeful crop springing up on the ground once occupied by any +grove that has been destroyed by the burning of the chaparral. +</p> + +<p> +4th. The cones never fall off and never discharge their seeds until the tree or +branch to which they belong dies. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus24"></a> +<img src="images/img24.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="LOWER MARGIN OF THE MAIN PINE BELT, SHOWING OPEN CHARACTER OF WOODS." /> +<p class="caption">LOWER MARGIN OF THE MAIN PINE BELT, SHOWING OPEN CHARACTER OF WOODS.</p> +</div> + +<p> +A full discussion of the bearing of these facts upon one another would perhaps +be out of place here, but I may at least call attention to the admirable +adaptation of the tree to the fire-swept regions where alone it is found. After +a grove has been destroyed, the ground is at once sown lavishly with all the +seeds ripened during its whole life, which seem to have been carefully held in +store with reference to such a calamity. Then a young grove immediately springs +up, giving beauty for ashes. +</p> + +<h4> +SUGAR PINE<br/> +<small>(<i>Pinus Lambertiana</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +This is the noblest pine yet discovered, surpassing all others not merely in +size but also in kingly beauty and majesty. +</p> + +<p> +It towers sublimely from every ridge and cañon of the range, at an elevation of +from three to seven thousand feet above the sea, attaining most perfect +development at a height of about 5000 feet. +</p> + +<p> +Full-grown specimens are commonly about 220 feet high, and from six to eight +feet in diameter near the ground, though some grand old patriarch is +occasionally met that has enjoyed five or six centuries of storms, and attained +a thickness of ten or even twelve feet, living on undecayed, sweet and fresh in +every fiber. +</p> + +<p> +In southern Oregon, where it was first discovered by David Douglas, on the head +waters of the Umpqua, it attains still grander dimensions, one specimen having +been measured that was 245 feet high, and over eighteen feet in diameter three +feet from the ground. The discoverer was the Douglas for whom the noble Douglas +Spruce is named, and many other plants which will keep his memory sweet and +fresh as long as trees and flowers are loved. His first visit to the Pacific +Coast was made in the year 1825. The Oregon Indians watched him with curiosity +as he wandered in the woods collecting specimens, and, unlike the fur-gathering +strangers they had hitherto known, caring nothing about trade. And when at +length they came to know him better, and saw that from year to year the growing +things of the woods and prairies were his only objects of pursuit, they called +him “The Man of Grass,” a title of which he was proud. During his +first summer on the waters of the Columbia he made Fort Vancouver his +headquarters, making excursions from this Hudson Bay post in every direction. +On one of his long trips he saw in an Indian’s pouch some of the seeds of +a new species of pine which he learned were obtained from a very large tree far +to the southward of the Columbia. At the end of the next summer, returning to +Fort Vancouver after the setting in of the winter rains, bearing in mind the +big pine he had heard of, he set out on an excursion up the Willamette Valley +in search of it; and how he fared, and what dangers and hardships he endured, +are best told in his own journal, from which I quote as follows: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<i>October</i> 26, 1826. Weather dull. Cold and cloudy. When my friends in +England are made acquainted with my travels I fear they will think I have told +them nothing but my miseries…. I quitted my camp early in the morning to survey +the neighboring country, leaving my guide to take charge of the horses until my +return in the evening. About an hour’s walk from the camp I met an +Indian, who on perceiving me instantly strung his bow, placed on his left arm a +sleeve of raccoon skin and stood on the defensive. Being quite sure that +conduct was prompted by fear and not by hostile intentions, the poor fellow +having probably never seen such a being as myself before, I laid my gun at my +feet on the ground and waved my hand for him to come to me, which he did slowly +and with great caution. I then made him place his bow and quiver of arrows +beside my gun, and striking a light gave him a smoke out of my own pipe and a +present of a few beads. With my pencil I made a rough sketch of the cone and +pine tree which I wanted to obtain, and drew his attention to it, when he +instantly pointed with his hand to the hills fifteen or twenty miles distant +towards the south; and when I expressed my intention of going thither, +cheerfully set out to accompany me. At midday I reached my long-wished-for +pines, and lost no time in examining them and endeavoring to collect specimens +and seeds. New and strange things seldom fail to make strong impressions, and +are therefore frequently over-rated; so that, lest I should never see my +friends in England to inform them verbally of this most beautiful and immensely +grand tree, I shall here state the dimensions of the largest I could find among +several that had been blown down by the wind. At 3 feet from the ground its +circumference is 57 feet 9 inches; at 134 feet, 17 feet 5 inches; the extreme +length 245 feet…. As it was impossible either to climb the tree or hew it down, +I endeavored to knock off the cones by firing at them with ball, when the +report of my gun brought eight Indians, all of them painted with red earth, +armed with bows, arrows, bone-tipped spears, and flint-knives. They appeared +anything but friendly. I explained to them what I wanted, and they seemed +satisfied and sat down to smoke; but presently I saw one of them string his +bow, and another sharpen his flint knife with a pair of wooden pincers and +suspend it off the wrist of his right hand. Further testimony of their +intentions was unnecessary. To save myself by flight was impossible, so without +hesitation I stepped back about five paces, cocked my gun, drew one of the +pistols out of my belt, and holding it in my left hand and the gun in my right, +showed myself determined to fight for my life. As much as possible I endeavored +to preserve my coolness, and thus we stood looking at one another without +making any movement or uttering a word for perhaps ten minutes, when one at +last, who seemed to be the leader, gave a sign that they wished for some +tobacco; this I signified that they should have if they fetched a quantity of +cones. They went off immediately in search of them, and no sooner were they all +out of sight than I picked up my three cones and some twigs of the trees and +made the quickest possible retreat, hurrying back to the camp, which I reached +before dusk…. I now write lying on the grass with my gun cocked beside me, and +penning these lines by the light of my Columbian candle, namely, an ignited +piece of rosin-wood. +</p> + +<p> +This grand pine discovered under such, exciting circumstances Douglas named in +honor of his friend Dr. Lambert of London. +</p> + +<p> +The trunk is a smooth, round, delicately tapered shaft, mostly without limbs, +and colored rich purplish-brown, usually enlivened with tufts of yellow lichen. +At the top of this magnificent bole, long, curving branches sweep gracefully +outward and downward, sometimes forming a palm-like crown, but far more nobly +impressive than any palm crown I ever beheld. The needles are about three +inches long, finely tempered and arranged in rather close tassels at the ends +of slender branchlets that clothe the long, outsweeping limbs. How well they +sing in the wind, and how strikingly harmonious an effect is made by the +immense cylindrical cones that depend loosely from the ends of the main +branches! No one knows what Nature can do in the way of pine-burs until he has +seen those of the Sugar Pine. They are commonly from fifteen to eighteen inches +long, and three in diameter; green, shaded with dark purple on their sunward +sides. They are ripe in September and October. Then the flat scales open and +the seeds take wing, but the empty cones become still more beautiful and +effective, for their diameter is nearly doubled by the spreading of the scales, +and their color changes to a warm yellowish-brown; while they remain swinging +on the tree all the following winter and summer, and continue effectively +beautiful even on the ground many years after they fall. The wood is +deliciously fragrant, and fine in grain and texture; it is of a rich +cream-yellow, as if formed of condensed sunbeams. <i>Retinospora obtusa, +Siebold</i>, the glory of Eastern forests, is called “Fu-si-no-ki” +(tree of the sun) by the Japanese; the Sugar Pine is the sun-tree of the +Sierra. Unfortunately it is greatly prized by the lumbermen, and in accessible +places is always the first tree in the woods to feel their steel. But the +regular lumbermen, with their saw-mills, have been, less generally destructive +thus far than the shingle-makers. The wood splits freely, and there is a +constant demand for the shingles. And because an ax, and saw, and frow are all +the capital required for the business, many of that drifting, unsteady class of +men so large in California engage in it for a few months in the year. When +prospectors, hunters, ranch hands, etc., touch their “bottom +dollar” and find themselves out of employment, they say, “Well, I +can at least go to the Sugar Pines and make shingles.” A few posts are +set in the ground, and a single length cut from the first tree felled produces +boards enough for the walls and roof of a cabin; all the rest the lumberman +makes is for sale, and he is speedily independent. No gardener or haymaker is +more sweetly perfumed than these rough mountaineers while engaged in this +business, but the havoc they make is most deplorable. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:20%;"> +<a name="illus25"></a> +<img src="images/img25.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="SUGAR PINE ON EXPOSED RIDGE" /> +<p class="caption">SUGAR PINE ON EXPOSED RIDGE.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The sugar, from which the common name is derived, is to my taste the best of +sweets—better than maple sugar. It exudes from the heart-wood, where +wounds have been made, either by forest fires, or the ax, in the shape of +irregular, crisp, candy-like kernels, which are crowded together in masses of +considerable size, like clusters of resin-beads. When fresh, it is perfectly +white and delicious, but, because most of the wounds on which it is found have +been made by fire, the exuding sap is stained on the charred surface, and the +hardened sugar becomes brown. Indians are fond of it, but on account of its +laxative properties only small quantities may be eaten. Bears, so fond of sweet +things in general, seem never to taste it; at least I have failed to find any +trace of their teeth in this connection. +</p> + +<p> +No lover of trees will ever forget his first meeting with the Sugar Pine, nor +will he afterward need a poet to call him to “listen what the pine-tree +saith.” In most pine-trees there is a sameness of expression, which, to +most people, is apt to become monotonous; for the typical spiry form, however +beautiful, affords but little scope for appreciable individual character. The +Sugar Pine is as free from conventionalities of form and motion as any oak. No +two are alike, even to the most inattentive observer; and, notwithstanding they +are ever tossing out their immense arms in what might seem most extravagant +gestures, there is a majesty and repose about them that precludes all +possibility of the grotesque, or even picturesque, in their general expression. +They are the priests of pines, and seem ever to be addressing the surrounding +forest. The Yellow Pine is found growing with them on warm hillsides, and the +White Silver Fir on cool northern slopes; but, noble as these are, the Sugar +Pine is easily king, and spreads his arms above them in blessing while they +rock and wave in sign of recognition. The main branches are sometimes found to +be forty feet in length, yet persistently simple, seldom dividing at all, +excepting near the end; but anything like a bare cable appearance is prevented +by the small, tasseled branchlets that extend all around them; and when these +superb limbs sweep out symmetrically on all sides, a crown sixty or seventy +feet wide is formed, which, gracefully poised on the summit of the noble shaft, +and filled with sunshine, is one of the most glorious forest objects +conceivable. Commonly, however, there is a great preponderance of limbs toward +the east, away from the direction of the prevailing winds. +</p> + +<p> +No other pine seems to me so unfamiliar and self-contained. In approaching it, +we feel as if in the presence of a superior being, and begin to walk with a +light step, holding our breath. Then, perchance, while we gaze awe-stricken, +along comes a merry squirrel, chattering and laughing, to break the spell, +running up the trunk with no ceremony, and gnawing off the cones as if they +were made only for him; while the carpenter-woodpecker hammers away at the +bark, drilling holes in which to store his winter supply of acorns. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus26"></a> +<img src="images/img26.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="YOUNG SUGAR PINE BEGINNING TO BEAR CONES" /> +<p class="caption">YOUNG SUGAR PINE BEGINNING TO BEAR CONES.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Although so wild and unconventional when full-grown, the Sugar Pine is a +remarkably proper tree in youth. The old is the most original and independent +in appearance of all the Sierra evergreens; the young is the most +regular,—a strict follower of coniferous fashions,—slim, erect, +with leafy, supple branches kept exactly in place, each tapering in outline and +terminating in a spiry point. The successive transitional forms presented +between the cautious neatness of youth and bold freedom of maturity offer a +delightful study. At the age of fifty or sixty years, the shy, fashionable form +begins to be broken up. Specialized branches push out in the most unthought-of +places, and bend with the great cones, at once marking individual character, +and this being constantly augmented from year to year by the varying action of +the sunlight, winds, snow-storms, etc., the individuality of the tree is never +again lost in the general forest. +</p> + +<p> +The most constant companion of this species is the Yellow Pine, and a worthy +companion it is. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus27"></a> +<img src="images/img27.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="FOREST OF SEQUOIA, SUGAR PINE, AND DOUGLAS SPRUCE." /> +<p class="caption">FOREST OF SEQUOIA, SUGAR PINE, AND DOUGLAS SPRUCE.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The Douglas Spruce, Libocedrus, Sequoia, and the White Silver Fir are also more +or less associated with it; but on many deep-soiled mountain-sides, at an +elevation of about 5000 feet above the sea, it forms the bulk of the forest, +filling every swell and hollow and down-plunging ravine. The majestic crowns, +approaching each other in bold curves, make a glorious canopy through which the +tempered sunbeams pour, silvering the needles, and gilding the massive boles, +and flowery, park-like ground, into a scene of enchantment. +</p> + +<p> +On the most sunny slopes the white-flowered fragrant chamoebatia is spread like +a carpet, brightened during early summer with the crimson Sarcodes, the wild +rose, and innumerable violets and gilias. Not even in the shadiest nooks will +you find any rank, untidy weeds or unwholesome darkness. On the north sides of +ridges the boles are more slender, and the ground is mostly occupied by an +underbrush of hazel, ceanothus, and flowering dogwood, but never so densely as +to prevent the traveler from sauntering where he will; while the crowning +branches are never impenetrable to the rays of the sun, and never so +interblended as to lose their individuality. +</p> + +<p> +View the forest from beneath or from some commanding ridge-top; each tree +presents a study in itself, and proclaims the surpassing grandeur of the +species. +</p> + +<h4> +YELLOW, OR SILVER PINE<br/> +<small>(<i>Pinus ponderosa</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +The Silver, or Yellow, Pine, as it is commonly called, ranks second among the +pines of the Sierra as a lumber tree, and almost rivals the Sugar Pine in +stature and nobleness of port. Because of its superior powers of enduring +variations of climate and soil, it has a more extensive range than any other +conifer growing on the Sierra. On the western slope it is first met at an +elevation of about 2000 feet, and extends nearly to the upper limit of the +timber line. Thence, crossing the range by the lowest passes, it descends to +the eastern base, and pushes out for a considerable distance into the hot +volcanic plains, growing bravely upon well-watered moraines, gravelly lake +basins, arctic ridges, and torrid lava-beds; planting itself upon the lips of +craters, flourishing vigorously even there, and tossing ripe cones among the +ashes and cinders of Nature’s hearths. +</p> + +<p> +The average size of full-grown trees on the western slope, where it is +associated with the Sugar Pine, is a little less than 200 feet in height and +from five to six feet in diameter, though specimens may easily be found that +are considerably larger. I measured one, growing at an elevation of 4000 feet +in the valley of the Merced, that is a few inches over eight feet in diameter, +and 220 feet high. +</p> + +<p> +Where there is plenty of free sunshine and other conditions are favorable, it +presents a striking contrast in form to the Sugar Pine, being a symmetrical +spire, formed of a straight round trunk, clad with innumerable branches that +are divided over and over again. About one half of the trunk is commonly +branchless, but where it grows at all close, three fourths or more become +naked; the tree presenting then a more slender and elegant shaft than any other +tree in the woods. The bark is mostly arranged in massive plates, some of them +measuring four or five feet in length by eighteen inches in width, with a +thickness of three or four inches, forming a quite marked and distinguishing +feature. The needles are of a fine, warm, yellow-green color, six to eight +inches long, firm and elastic, and crowded in handsome, radiant tassels on the +upturning ends of the branches. The cones are about three or four inches long, +and two and a half wide, growing in close, sessile clusters among the leaves. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:30%;"> +<a name="illus28"></a> +<img src="images/img28.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="PINUS PONDEROSA" /> +<p class="caption">PINUS PONDEROSA</p> +</div> + +<p> +The species attains its noblest form in filled-up lake basins, especially in +those of the older yosemites, and so prominent a part does it form of their +groves that it may well be called the Yosemite Pine. Ripe specimens favorably +situated are almost always 200 feet or more in height, and the branches clothe +the trunk nearly to the ground, as seen in the illustration. +</p> + +<p> +The Jeffrey variety attains its finest development in the northern portion of +the range, in the wide basins of the McCloud and Pitt rivers, where it forms +magnificent forests scarcely invaded by any other tree. It differs from the +ordinary form in size, being only about half as tall, and in its redder and +more closely furrowed bark, grayish-green foliage, less divided branches, and +larger cones; but intermediate forms come in which make a clear separation +impossible, although some botanists regard it as a distinct species. It is this +variety that climbs storm-swept ridges, and wanders out among the volcanoes of +the Great Basin. Whether exposed to extremes of heat or cold, it is dwarfed +like every other tree, and becomes all knots and angles, wholly unlike the +majestic forms we have been sketching. Old specimens, bearing cones about as +big as pineapples, may sometimes be found clinging to rifted rocks at an +elevation of seven or eight thousand feet, whose highest branches scarce reach +above one’s shoulders. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:20%;"> +<a name="illus29"></a> +<img src="images/img29.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="SILVER PINE 210 FEET HIGH. (THE FORM GROWING IN YOSEMITE VALLEY.)" /> +<p class="caption">SILVER PINE 210 FEET HIGH. (THE FORM GROWING IN YOSEMITE VALLEY.)</p> +</div> + +<p> +I have oftentimes feasted on the beauty of these noble trees when they were +towering in all their winter grandeur, laden with snow—one mass of bloom; +in summer, too, when the brown, staminate clusters hang thick among the +shimmering needles, and the big purple burs are ripening in the mellow light; +but it is during cloudless wind-storms that these colossal pines are most +impressively beautiful. Then they bow like willows, their leaves streaming +forward all in one direction, and, when the sun shines upon them at the +required angle, entire groves glow as if every leaf were burnished silver. The +fall of tropic light on the royal crown of a palm is a truly glorious +spectacle, the fervid sun-flood breaking upon the glossy leaves in long +lance-rays, like mountain water among boulders. But to me there is something +more impressive in the fall of light upon these Silver Pines. It seems beaten +to the finest dust, and is shed off in myriads of minute sparkles that seem to +come from the very heart of the trees, as if, like rain falling upon fertile +soil, it had been absorbed, to reappear in flowers of light. +</p> + +<p> +This species also gives forth the finest music to the wind. After listening to +it in all kinds of winds, night and day, season after season, I think I could +approximate to my position on the mountains by this pine-music alone. If you +would catch the tones of separate needles, climb a tree. They are well +tempered, and give forth no uncertain sound, each standing out, with no +interference excepting during heavy gales; then you may detect the click of one +needle upon another, readily distinguishable from their free, wing-like hum. +Some idea of their temper may be drawn from the fact that, notwithstanding they +are so long, the vibrations that give rise to the peculiar shimmering of the +light are made at the rate of about two hundred and fifty per minute. +</p> + +<p> +When a Sugar Pine and one of this species equal in size are observed together, +the latter is seen to be far more simple in manners, more lithely graceful, and +its beauty is of a kind more easily appreciated; but then, it is, on the other +hand, much less dignified and original in demeanor. The Silver Pine seems eager +to shoot aloft. Even while it is drowsing in autumn sun-gold, you may still +detect a skyward aspiration. But the Sugar Pine seems too unconsciously noble, +and too complete in every way, to leave room for even a heavenward care. +</p> + +<h4> +DOUGLAS SPRUCE<br/> +<small>(<i>Pseudotsuga Douglasii</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +This tree is the king of the spruces, as the Sugar Pine is king of pines. It is +by far the most majestic spruce I ever beheld in any forest, and one of the +largest and longest lived of the giants that flourish throughout the main pine +belt, often attaining a height of nearly 200 feet, and a diameter of six or +seven. Where the growth is not too close, the strong, spreading branches come +more than halfway down the trunk, and these are hung with innumerable slender, +swaying sprays, that are handsomely feathered with the short leaves which +radiate at right angles all around them. This vigorous spruce is ever +beautiful, welcoming the mountain winds and the snow as well as the mellow +summer light, and maintaining its youthful freshness undiminished from century +to century through a thousand storms. +</p> + +<p> +It makes its finest appearance in the months of June and July. The rich brown +buds with which its sprays are tipped swell and break about this time, +revealing the young leaves, which at first are bright yellow, making the tree +appear as if covered with gay blossoms; while the pendulous bracted cones with +their shell-like scales are a constant adornment. +</p> + +<p> +The young trees are mostly gathered into beautiful family groups, each sapling +exquisitely symmetrical. The primary branches are whorled regularly around the +axis, generally in fives, while each is draped with long, feathery sprays, that +descend in curves as free and as finely drawn as those of falling water. +</p> + +<p> +In Oregon and Washington it grows in dense forests, growing tall and mast-like +to a height of 300 feet, and is greatly prized as a lumber tree. But in the +Sierra it is scattered among other trees, or forms small groves, seldom +ascending higher than 5500 feet, and never making what would be called a +forest. It is not particular in its choice of soil—wet or dry, smooth or +rocky, it makes out to live well on them all. Two of the largest specimens I +have measured are in Yosemite Valley, one of which is more than eight feet in +diameter, and is growing upon the terminal moraine of the residual glacier that +occupied the South Fork Canon; the other is nearly as large, growing upon +angular blocks of granite that have been shaken from the precipitous front of +the Liberty Cap near the Nevada Fall. No other tree seems so capable of +adapting itself to earthquake taluses, and many of these rough boulder-slopes +are occupied by it almost exclusively, especially in yosemite gorges moistened +by the spray of waterfalls. +</p> + +<h4> +INCENSE CEDAR<br/> +<small>(<i>Libocedrus decurrens</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +The Incense Cedar is another of the giants quite generally distributed +throughout this portion of the forest, without exclusively occupying any +considerable area, or even making extensive groves. It ascends to about 5000 +feet on the warmer hillsides, and reaches the climate most congenial to it at +about from 3000 to 4000 feet, growing vigorously at this elevation on all kinds +of soil, and in particular it is capable of enduring more moisture about its +roots than any of its companions, excepting only the Sequoia. +</p> + +<p> +The largest specimens are about 150 feet high, and seven feet in diameter. The +bark is brown, of a singularly rich tone very attractive to artists, and the +foliage is tinted with a warmer yellow than that of any other evergreen in the +woods. Casting your eye over the general forest from some ridge-top, the color +alone of its spiry summits is sufficient to identify it in any company. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus30"></a> +<img src="images/img30.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="INCENSE CEDAR IN ITS PRIME." /> +<p class="caption">INCENSE CEDAR IN ITS PRIME.</p> +</div> + +<p> +In youth, say up to the age of seventy or eighty years, no other tree forms so +strictly tapered a cone from top to bottom. The branches swoop outward and +downward in bold curves, excepting the younger ones near the top, which aspire, +while the lowest droop to the ground, and all spread out in flat, ferny plumes, +beautifully fronded, and imbricated upon one another. As it becomes older, it +grows strikingly irregular and picturesque. Large special branches put out at +right angles from the trunk, form big, stubborn elbows, and then shoot up +parallel with the axis. Very old trees are usually dead at the top, the main +axis protruding above ample masses of green plumes, gray and lichen-covered, +and drilled full of acorn holes by the woodpeckers. The plumes are exceedingly +beautiful; no waving fern-frond in shady dell is more unreservedly beautiful in +form and texture, or half so inspiring in color and spicy fragrance. In its +prime, the whole tree is thatched with them, so that they shed off rain and +snow like a roof, making fine mansions for storm-bound birds and mountaineers. +But if you would see the <i>Libocedrus</i> in all its glory, you must go to the +woods in winter. Then it is laden with myriads of four-sided staminate cones +about the size of wheat grains,—winter wheat,—producing a golden +tinge, and forming a noble illustration of Nature’s immortal vigor and +virility. The fertile cones are about three fourths of an inch long, borne on +the outside of the plumy branchlets, where they serve to enrich still more the +surpassing beauty of this grand winter-blooming goldenrod. +</p> + +<h4> +WHITE SILVER FIR<br/> +<small>(<i>Abies concolor</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus31"></a> +<img src="images/img31.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="FOREST OF GRAND SILVER FIRS. TWO SEQUOIAS IN THE FOREGROUND ON THE LEFT" /> +<p class="caption">FOREST OF GRAND SILVER FIRS. TWO SEQUOIAS IN THE FOREGROUND ON THE LEFT.</p> +</div> + +<p> +We come now to the most regularly planted of all the main forest belts, +composed almost exclusively of two noble firs—<i>A. concolor</i> and +<i>A. magnifica</i>. It extends with no marked interruption for 450 miles, at +an elevation of from 5000 to nearly 9000 feet above the sea. In its youth <i>A. +concolor</i> is a charmingly symmetrical tree with branches regularly whorled +in level collars around its whitish-gray axis, which terminates in a strong, +hopeful shoot. The leaves are in two horizontal rows, along branchlets that +commonly are less than eight years old, forming handsome plumes, pinnated like +the fronds of ferns. The cones are grayish-green when ripe, cylindrical, about +from three to four inches long by one and a half to two inches wide, and stand +upright on the upper branches. +</p> + +<p> +Full-grown trees, favorably situated as to soil and exposure, are about 200 +feet high, and five or six feet in diameter near the ground, though larger +specimens are by no means rare. +</p> + +<p> +As old age creeps on, the bark becomes rougher and grayer, the branches lose +their exact regularity, many are snow-bent or broken off, and the main axis +often becomes double or otherwise irregular from accidents to the terminal bud +or shoot; but throughout all the vicissitudes of its life on the mountains, +come what may, the noble grandeur of the species is patent to every eye. +</p> + +<h4> +MAGNIFICENT SILVER FIR, OR RED FIR<br/> +<small>(<i>Abies magnifica</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +This is the most charmingly symmetrical of all the giants of the Sierra woods, +far surpassing its companion species in this respect, and easily distinguished +from it by the purplish-red bark, which is also more closely furrowed than that +of the white, and by its larger cones, more regularly whorled and fronded +branches, and by its leaves, which are shorter, and grow all around the +branchlets and point upward. +</p> + +<p> +In size, these two Silver Firs are about equal, the <i>magnifica</i> perhaps a +little the taller. Specimens from 200 to 250 feet high are not rare on +well-ground moraine soil, at an elevation of from 7500 to 8500 feet above +sea-level. The largest that I measured stands back three miles from the brink +of the north wall of Yosemite Valley. Fifteen years ago it was 240 feet high, +with a diameter of a little more than five feet. +</p> + +<p> +Happy the man with the freedom and the love to climb one of these superb trees +in full flower and fruit. How admirable the forest-work of Nature is then seen +to be, as one makes his way up through the midst of the broad, fronded +branches, all arranged in exquisite order around the trunk, like the whorled +leaves of lilies, and each branch and branchlet about as strictly pinnate as +the most symmetrical fern-frond. The staminate cones are seen growing straight +downward from the under side of the young branches in lavish profusion, making +fine purple clusters amid the grayish-green foliage. On the topmost branches +the fertile cones are set firmly on end like small casks. They are about six +inches long, three wide, covered with a fine gray down, and streaked with +crystal balsam that seems to have been poured upon each cone from above. +</p> + +<p> +Both the Silver Firs live 250 years or more when the conditions about them are +at all favorable. Some venerable patriarch may often be seen, heavily +storm-marked, towering in severe majesty above the rising generation, with a +protecting grove of saplings pressing close around his feet, each dressed with +such loving care that not a leaf seems wanting. Other companies are made up of +trees near the prime of life, exquisitely harmonized to one another in form and +gesture, as if Nature had culled them one by one with nice discrimination from +all the rest of the woods. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus32"></a> +<img src="images/img32.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="VIEW OF FOREST OF THE MAGNIFICENT SILVER FIR" /> +<p class="caption">VIEW OF FOREST OF THE MAGNIFICENT SILVER FIR.</p> +</div> + +<p> +It is from this tree, called Red Fir by the lumberman, that mountaineers always +cut boughs to sleep on when they are so fortunate as to be within its limits. +Two rows of the plushy branches overlapping along the middle, and a crescent of +smaller plumes mixed with ferns and flowers for a pillow, form the very best +bed imaginable. The essences of the pressed leaves seem to fill every pore of +one’s body, the sounds of falling water make a soothing hush, while the +spaces between the grand spires afford noble openings through which to gaze +dreamily into the starry sky. Even in the matter of sensuous ease, any +combination of cloth, steel springs, and feathers seems vulgar in comparison. +</p> + +<p> +The fir woods are delightful sauntering-grounds at any time of year, but most +so in autumn. Then the noble trees are hushed in the hazy light, and drip with +balsam; the cones are ripe, and the seeds, with their ample purple wings, +mottle the air like flocks of butterflies; while deer feeding in the flowery +openings between the groves, and birds and squirrels in the branches, make a +pleasant stir which enriches the deep, brooding calm of the wilderness, and +gives a peculiar impressiveness to every tree. No wonder the enthusiastic +Douglas went wild with joy when he first discovered this species. Even in the +Sierra, where so many noble evergreens challenge admiration, we linger among +these colossal firs with fresh love, and extol their beauty again and again, as +if no other in the world could henceforth claim our regard. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus33"></a> +<img src="images/img33.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="SILVER-FIR FOREST GROWING ON MORAINES OF THE HOFFMAN AND TENAYA GLACIERS" /> +<p class="caption">SILVER-FIR FOREST GROWING ON MORAINES OF THE HOFFMAN AND TENAYA GLACIERS.</p> +</div> + +<p> +It is in these woods the great granite domes rise that are so striking and +characteristic a feature of the Sierra. And here too we find the best of the +garden meadows. They lie level on the tops of the dividing ridges, or sloping +on the sides of them, embedded in the magnificent forest. Some of these meadows +are in great part occupied by <i>Veratrumalba</i>, which here grows rank and +tall, with boat-shaped leaves thirteen inches long and twelve inches wide, +ribbed like those of cypripedium. Columbine grows on the drier margins with +tall larkspurs and lupines waist-deep in grasses and sedges; several species of +castilleia also make a bright show in beds of blue and white violets and +daisies. But the glory of these forest meadows is a lily—<i>L. +parvum</i>. The flowers are orange-colored and quite small, the smallest I ever +saw of the true lilies; but it is showy nevertheless, for it is seven to eight +feet high and waves magnificent racemes of ten to twenty flowers or more over +one’s head, while it stands out in the open ground with just enough of +grass and other plants about it to make a fringe for its feet and show it off +to best advantage. +</p> + +<p> +A dry spot a little way back from the margin of a Silver Fir lily garden makes +a glorious campground, especially where the slope is toward the east and opens +a view of the distant peaks along the summit of the range. The tall lilies are +brought forward in all their glory by the light of your blazing camp-fire, +relieved against the outer darkness, and the nearest of the trees with their +whorled branches tower above you like larger lilies, and the sky seen through +the garden opening seems one vast meadow of white lily stars. +</p> + +<p> +In the morning everything is joyous and bright, the delicious purple of the +dawn changes softly to daffodil yellow and white; while the sunbeams pouring +through the passes between the peaks give a margin of gold to each of them. +Then the spires of the firs in the hollows of the middle region catch the glow, +and your camp grove is filled with light. The birds begin to stir, seeking +sunny branches on the edge of the meadow for sun-baths after the cold night, +and looking for their breakfasts, every one of them as fresh as a lily and as +charmingly arrayed. Innumerable insects begin to dance, the deer withdraw from +the open glades and ridge-tops to their leafy hiding-places in the chaparral, +the flowers open and straighten their petals as the dew vanishes, every pulse +beats high, every life-cell rejoices, the very rocks seem to tingle with life, +and God is felt brooding over everything great and small. +</p> + +<h4> +BIG TREE<br/> +<small>(<i>Sequoia gigantea</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +Between the heavy pine and Silver Fir belts we find the Big Tree, the king of +all the conifers in the world, “the noblest of a noble race.” It +extends in a widely interrupted belt from a small grove on the middle fork of +the American River to the head of Deer Creek, a distance of about 260 miles, +the northern limit being near the thirty-ninth parallel, the southern a little +below the thirty-sixth, and the elevation of the belt above the sea varies from +about 5000 to 8000 feet. From the American River grove to the forest on +King’s River the species occurs only in small isolated groups so sparsely +distributed along the belt that three of the gaps in it are from forty to sixty +miles wide. But from King’s River southward the Sequoia is not restricted +to mere groves, but extends across the broad rugged basins of the Kaweah and +Tule rivers in noble forests, a distance of nearly seventy miles, the +continuity of this part of the belt being broken only by deep cañons. The +Fresno, the largest of the northern groves, occupies an area of three or four +square miles, a short distance to the southward of the famous Mariposa Grove. +Along the beveled rim of the cañon of the south fork of King’s River +there is a majestic forest of Sequoia about six miles long by two wide. This is +the northernmost assemblage of Big Trees that may fairly be called a forest. +Descending the precipitous divide between the King’s River and Kaweah you +enter the grand forests that form the main continuous portion of the belt. +Advancing southward the giants become more and more irrepressibly exuberant, +heaving their massive crowns into the sky from every ridge and slope, and +waving onward in graceful compliance with the complicated topography of the +region. The finest of the Kaweah section of the belt is on the broad ridge +between Marble Creek and the middle fork, and extends from the granite +headlands overlooking the hot plains to within a few miles of the cool glacial +fountains of the summit peaks. The extreme upper limit of the belt is reached +between the middle and south forks of the Kaweah at an elevation of 8400 feet. +But the finest block of Big Tree forest in the entire belt is on the north fork +of Tule River. In the northern groves there are comparatively few young trees +or saplings. But here for every old, storm-stricken giant there are many in all +the glory of prime vigor, and for each of these a crowd of eager, hopeful young +trees and saplings growing heartily on moraines, rocky ledges, along +watercourses, and in the moist alluvium of meadows, seemingly in hot pursuit of +eternal life. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus34"></a> +<img src="images/img34.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="SEQUOIA GIGANTEA—VIEW IN GENERAL GRANT NATIONAL PARK" /> +<p class="caption">SEQUOIA GIGANTEA—VIEW IN GENERAL GRANT NATIONAL PARK.</p> +</div> + +<p> +But though the area occupied by the species increases so much from north to +south there is no marked increase in the size of the trees. A height of 275 +feet and a diameter near the ground of about 20 feet is perhaps about the +average size of full-grown trees favorably situated; specimens 25 feet in +diameter are not very rare, and a few are nearly 300 feet high. In the +Calaveras Grove there are four trees over 300 feet in height, the tallest of +which by careful measurement is 325 feet. The largest I have yet met in the +course of my explorations is a majestic old scarred monument in the +King’s River forest. It is 35 feet 8 inches in diameter inside the bark +four feet from the ground. Under the most favorable conditions these giants +probably live 5000 years or more, though few of even the larger trees are more +than half as old. I never saw a Big Tree that had died a natural death; barring +accidents they seem to be immortal, being exempt from all the diseases that +afflict and kill other trees. Unless destroyed by man, they live on +indefinitely until burned, smashed by lightning, or cast down by storms, or by +the giving way of the ground on which they stand. The age of one that was +felled in the Calaveras Grove, for the sake of having its stump for a +dancing-floor, was about 1300 years, and its diameter, measured across the +stump, 24 feet inside the bark. Another that was cut down in the King’s +River forest was about the same size, but nearly a thousand years older (2200 +years), though not a very old-looking tree. It was felled to procure a section +for exhibition, and thus an opportunity was given to count its annual rings of +growth. The colossal scarred monument in the King’s River forest +mentioned above is burned half through, and I spent a day in making an estimate +of its age, clearing away the charred surface with an ax and carefully counting +the annual rings with the aid of a pocket-lens. The wood-rings in the section I +laid bare were so involved and contorted in some places that I was not able to +determine its age exactly, but I counted over 4000 rings, which showed that +this tree was in its prime, swaying in the Sierra winds, when Christ walked the +earth. No other tree in the world, as far as I know, has looked down on so many +centuries as the Sequoia, or opens such impressive and suggestive views into +history. +</p> + +<p> +So exquisitely harmonious and finely balanced are even the very mightiest of +these monarchs of the woods in all their proportions and circumstances there +never is anything overgrown or monstrous-looking about them. On coming in sight +of them for the first time, you are likely to say, “Oh, see what +beautiful, noble-looking trees are towering there among the firs and +pines!”—their grandeur being in the mean time in great part +invisible, but to the living eye it will be manifested sooner or later, +stealing slowly on the senses, like the grandeur of Niagara, or the lofty +Yosemite domes. Their great size is hidden from the inexperienced observer as +long as they are seen at a distance in one harmonious view. When, however, you +approach them and walk round them, you begin to wonder at their colossal size +and seek a measuring-rod. These giants bulge considerably at the base, but not +more than is required for beauty and safety; and the only reason that this +bulging seems in some cases excessive is that only a comparatively small +section of the shaft is seen at once in near views. One that I measured in the +King’s River forest was 25 feet in diameter at the ground, and 10 feet in +diameter 200 feet above the ground, showing that the taper of the trunk as a +whole is charmingly fine. And when you stand back far enough to see the massive +columns from the swelling instep to the lofty summit dissolving in a dome of +verdure, you rejoice in the unrivaled display of combined grandeur and beauty. +About a hundred feet or more of the trunk is usually branchless, but its +massive simplicity is relieved by the bark furrows, which instead of making an +irregular network run evenly parallel, like the fluting of an architectural +column, and to some extent by tufts of slender sprays that wave lightly in the +winds and cast flecks of shade, seeming to have been pinned on here and there +for the sake of beauty only. The young trees have slender simple branches down +to the ground, put on with strict regularity, sharply aspiring at the top, +horizontal about half-way down, and drooping in handsome curves at the base. By +the time the sapling is five or six hundred years old this spiry, feathery, +juvenile habit merges into the firm, rounded dome form of middle age, which in +turn takes on the eccentric picturesqueness of old age. No other tree in the +Sierra forest has foliage so densely massed or presents outlines so firmly +drawn and so steadily subordinate to a special type. A knotty +ungovernable-looking branch five to eight feet thick may be seen pushing out +abruptly from the smooth trunk, as if sure to throw the regular curve into +confusion, but as soon as the general outline is reached it stops short and +dissolves in spreading bosses of law-abiding sprays, just as if every tree were +growing beneath some huge, invisible bell-glass, against whose sides every +branch was being pressed and molded, yet somehow indulging in so many small +departures from the regular form that there is still an appearance of freedom. +</p> + +<p> +The foliage of the saplings is dark bluish-green in color, while the older +trees ripen to a warm brownish-yellow tint like Libocedrus. The bark is rich +cinnamon-brown, purplish in young trees and in shady portions of the old, while +the ground is covered with brown leaves and burs forming color-masses of +extraordinary richness, not to mention the flowers and underbrush that rejoice +about them in their seasons. Walk the Sequoia woods at any time of year and you +will say they are the most beautiful and majestic on earth. Beautiful and +impressive contrasts meet you everywhere: the colors of tree and flower, rock +and sky, light and shade, strength and frailty, endurance and evanescence, +tangles of supple hazel-bushes, tree-pillars about as rigid as granite domes, +roses and violets, the smallest of their kind, blooming around the feet of the +giants, and rugs of the lowly chamaebatia where the sunbeams fall. Then in +winter the trees themselves break forth in bloom, myriads of small four-sided +staminate cones crowd the ends of the slender sprays, coloring the whole tree, +and when ripe dusting the air and the ground with golden pollen. The fertile +cones are bright grass-green, measuring about two inches in length by one and a +half in thickness, and are made up of about forty firm rhomboidal scales +densely packed, with from five to eight seeds at the base of each. A single +cone, therefore, contains from two to three hundred seeds, which are about a +fourth of an inch long by three sixteenths wide, including a thin, flat margin +that makes them go glancing and wavering in their fall like a boy’s kite. +The fruitfulness of Sequoia may be illustrated by two specimen branches one and +a half and two inches in diameter on which I counted 480 cones. No other Sierra +conifer produces nearly so many seeds. Millions are ripened annually by a +single tree, and in a fruitful year the product of one of the northern groves +would be enough to plant all the mountain-ranges of the world. Nature takes +care, however, that not one seed in a million shall germinate at all, and of +those that do perhaps not one in ten thousand is suffered to live through the +many vicissitudes of storm, drought, fire, and snow-crushing that beset their +youth. +</p> + +<p> +The Douglas squirrel is the happy harvester of most of the Sequoia cones. Out +of every hundred perhaps ninety fall to his share, and unless cut off by his +ivory sickle they shake out their seeds and remain on the tree for many years. +Watching the squirrels at their harvest work in the Indian summer is one of the +most delightful diversions imaginable. The woods are calm and the ripe colors +are blazing in all their glory; the cone-laden trees stand motionless in the +warm, hazy air, and you may see the crimson-crested woodcock, the prince of +Sierra woodpeckers, drilling some dead limb or fallen trunk with his bill, and +ever and anon filling the glens with his happy cackle. The humming-bird, too, +dwells in these noble woods, and may oftentimes be seen glancing among the +flowers or resting wing-weary on some leafless twig; here also are the familiar +robin of the orchards, and the brown and grizzly bears so obviously fitted for +these majestic solitudes; and the Douglas squirrel, making more hilarious, +exuberant, vital stir than all the bears, birds, and humming wings together. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as any accident happens to the crown of these Sequoias, such as being +stricken off by lightning or broken by storms, then the branches beneath the +wound, no matter how situated, seem to be excited like a colony of bees that +have lost their queen, and become anxious to repair the damage. Limbs that have +grown outward for centuries at right angles to the trunk begin to turn upward +to assist in making a new crown, each speedily assuming the special form of +true summits. Even in the case of mere stumps, burned half through, some mere +ornamental tuft will try to go aloft and do its best as a leader in forming a +new head. +</p> + +<p> +Groups of two or three of these grand trees are often found standing close +together, the seeds from which they sprang having probably grown on ground +cleared for their reception by the fall of a large tree of a former generation. +These patches of fresh, mellow soil beside the upturned roots of the fallen +giant may be from forty to sixty feet wide, and they are speedily occupied by +seedlings. Out of these seedling-thickets perhaps two or three may become +trees, forming those close groups called “three graces,” +“loving couples,” etc. For even supposing that the trees should +stand twenty or thirty feet apart while young, by the time they are full-grown +their trunks will touch and crowd against each other and even appear as one in +some cases. +</p> + +<p> +It is generally believed that this grand Sequoia was once far more widely +distributed over the Sierra; but after long and careful study I have come to +the conclusion that it never was, at least since the close of the glacial +period, because a diligent search along the margins of the groves, and in the +gaps between, fails to reveal a single trace of its previous existence beyond +its present bounds. Notwithstanding, I feel confident that if every Sequoia in +the range were to die to-day, numerous monuments of their existence would +remain, of so imperishable a nature as to be available for the student more +than ten thousand years hence. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place we might notice that no species of coniferous tree in the +range keeps its individuals so well together as Sequoia; a mile is perhaps the +greatest distance of any straggler from the main body, and all of those +stragglers that have come under my observation are young, instead of old +monumental trees, relics of a more extended growth. +</p> + +<p> +Again, Sequoia trunks frequently endure for centuries after they fall. I have a +specimen block, cut from a fallen trunk, which is hardly distinguishable from +specimens cut from living trees, although the old trunk-fragment from which it +was derived has lain in the damp forest more than 380 years, probably thrice as +long. The time measure in the case is simply this: when the ponderous trunk to +which the old vestige belonged fell, it sunk itself into the ground, thus +making a long, straight ditch, and in the middle of this ditch a Silver Fir is +growing that is now four feet in diameter and 380 years old, as determined by +cutting it half through and counting the rings, thus demonstrating that the +remnant of the trunk that made the ditch has lain on the ground <i>more</i> +than 380 years. For it is evident that to find the whole time, we must add to +the 380 years the time that the vanished portion of the trunk lay in the ditch +before being burned out of the way, plus the time that passed before the seed +from which the monumental fir sprang fell into the prepared soil and took root. +Now, because Sequoia trunks are never wholly consumed in one forest fire, and +those fires recur only at considerable intervals, and because Sequoia ditches +after being cleared are often left unplanted for centuries, it becomes evident +that the trunk remnant in question may probably have lain a thousand years or +more. And this instance is by no means a rare one. +</p> + +<p> +But admitting that upon those areas supposed to have been once covered with +Sequoia every tree may have fallen, and every trunk may have been burned or +buried, leaving not a remnant, many of the ditches made by the fall of the +ponderous trunks, and the bowls made by their upturning roots, would remain +patent for thousands of years after the last vestige of the trunks that made +them had vanished. Much of this ditch-writing would no doubt be quickly effaced +by the flood-action of overflowing streams and rain-washing; but no +inconsiderable portion would remain enduringly engraved on ridge-tops beyond +such destructive action; for, where all the conditions are favorable, it is +almost imperishable. <i>Now these historic ditches and root bowls occur in all +the present Sequoia groves and forests, but as far as I have observed, not the +faintest vestige of one presents itself outside of them</i>. +</p> + +<p> +We therefore conclude that the area covered by Sequoia has not been diminished +during the last eight or ten thousand years, and probably not at all in +post-glacial times. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Is the species verging to extinction? What are its relations to climate, +soil, and associated trees?</i> +</p> + +<p> +All the phenomena bearing on these questions also throw light, as we shall +endeavor to show, upon the peculiar distribution of the species, and sustain +the conclusion already arrived at on the question of extension. +</p> + +<p> +In the northern groups, as we have seen, there are few young trees or saplings +growing up around the failing old ones to perpetuate the race, and in as much +as those aged Sequoias, so nearly childless, are the only ones commonly known, +the species, to most observers, seems doomed to speedy extinction, as being +nothing more than an expiring remnant, vanquished in the so-called struggle for +life by pines and firs that have driven it into its last strongholds in moist +glens where climate is exceptionally favorable. But the language of the +majestic continuous forests of the south creates a very different impression. +No tree of all the forest is more enduringly established in concordance with +climate and soil. It grows heartily everywhere—on moraines, rocky ledges, +along watercourses, and in the deep, moist alluvium of meadows, with a +multitude of seedlings and saplings crowding up around the aged, seemingly +abundantly able to maintain the forest in prime vigor. For every old +storm-stricken tree, there is one or more in all the glory of prime; and for +each of these many young trees and crowds of exuberant saplings. So that if all +the trees of any section of the main Sequoia forest were ranged together +according to age, a very promising curve would be presented, all the way up +from last year’s seedlings to giants, and with the young and middle-aged +portion of the curve many times longer than the old portion. Even as far north +as the Fresno, I counted 536 saplings and seedlings growing promisingly upon a +piece of rough avalanche soil not exceeding two acres in area. This soil bed is +about seven years old, and has been seeded almost simultaneously by pines, +firs, Libocedrus, and Sequoia, presenting a simple and instructive illustration +of the struggle for life among the rival species; and it was interesting to +note that the conditions thus far affecting them have enabled the young +Sequoias to gain a marked advantage. +</p> + +<p> +In every instance like the above I have observed that the seedling Sequoia is +capable of growing on both drier and wetter soil than its rivals, but requires +more sunshine than they; the latter fact being clearly shown wherever a Sugar +Pine or fir is growing in close contact with a Sequoia of about equal age and +size, and equally exposed to the sun; the branches of the latter in such cases +are always less leafy. Toward the south, however, where the Sequoia becomes +<i>more</i> exuberant and numerous, the rival trees become <i>less</i> so; and +where they mix with Sequoias, they mostly grow up beneath them, like slender +grasses among stalks of Indian corn. Upon a bed of sandy flood-soil I counted +ninety-four Sequoias, from one to twelve feet high, on a patch, of ground once +occupied by four large Sugar Pines which lay crumbling beneath them,—an +instance of conditions which have enabled Sequoias to crowd out the pines. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus35"></a> +<img src="images/img35.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="MUIR GORGE, TUOLUMNE CAÑON—YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK" /> +<p class="caption">MUIR GORGE, TUOLUMNE CAÑON—YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK.</p> +</div> + +<p> +I also noted eighty-six vigorous saplings upon a piece of fresh ground prepared +for their reception by fire. Thus fire, the great destroyer of Sequoia, also +furnishes bare virgin ground, one of the conditions essential for its growth +from the seed. Fresh ground is, however, furnished in sufficient quantities for +the constant renewal of the forests without fire, viz., by the fall of old +trees. The soil is thus upturned and mellowed, and many trees are planted for +every one that falls. Land-slips and floods also give rise to bare virgin +ground; and a tree now and then owes its existence to a burrowing wolf or +squirrel, but the most regular supply of fresh soil is furnished by the fall of +aged trees. +</p> + +<p> +The climatic changes in progress in the Sierra, bearing on the tenure of tree +life, are entirely misapprehended, especially as to the time and the means +employed by Nature in effecting them. It is constantly asserted in a vague way +that the Sierra was vastly wetter than now, and that the increasing drought +will of itself extinguish Sequoia, leaving its ground to other trees supposed +capable of nourishing in a drier climate. But that Sequoia can and does grow on +as dry ground as any of its present rivals, is manifest in a thousand places. +“Why, then,” it will be asked, “are Sequoias always found in +greatest abundance in well-watered places where streams are exceptionally +abundant?” Simply because a growth of Sequoias creates those streams. The +thirsty mountaineer knows well that in every Sequoia grove he will find running +water, but it is a mistake to suppose that the water is the cause of the grove +being there; on the contrary, the grove is the cause of the water being there. +Drain off the water and the trees will remain, but cut off the trees, and the +streams will vanish. Never was cause more completely mistaken for effect than +in the case of these related phenomena of Sequoia woods and perennial streams, +and I confess that at first I shared in the blunder. +</p> + +<p> +When attention is called to the method of Sequoia stream-making, it will be +apprehended at once. The roots of this immense tree fill the ground, forming a +thick sponge that absorbs and holds back the rains and melting snows, only +allowing them to ooze and flow gently. Indeed, every fallen leaf and rootlet, +as well as long clasping root, and prostrate trunk, may be regarded as a dam +hoarding the bounty of storm-clouds, and dispensing it as blessings all through +the summer, instead of allowing it to go headlong in short-lived floods. +Evaporation is also checked by the dense foliage to a greater extent than by +any other Sierra tree, and the air is entangled in masses and broad sheets that +are quickly saturated; while thirsty winds are not allowed to go sponging and +licking along the ground. +</p> + +<p> +So great is the retention of water in many places in the main belt, that bogs +and meadows are created by the killing of the trees. A single trunk falling +across a stream in the woods forms a dam 200 feet long, and from ten to thirty +feet high, giving rise to a pond which kills the trees within its reach. These +dead trees fall in turn, thus making a clearing, while sediments gradually +accumulate changing the pond into a bog, or meadow, for a growth of carices and +sphagnum. In some instances a series of small bogs or meadows rise above one +another on a hillside, which are gradually merged into one another, forming +sloping bogs, or meadows, which make striking features of Sequoia woods, and +since all the trees that have fallen into them have been preserved, they +contain records of the generations that have passed since they began to form. +</p> + +<p> +Since, then, it is a fact that thousands of Sequoias are growing thriftily on +what is termed dry ground, and even clinging like mountain pines to rifts in +granite precipices; and since it has also been shown that the extra moisture +found in connection with the denser growths is an effect of their presence, +instead of a cause of their presence, then the notions as to the former +extension of the species and its near approach to extinction, based upon its +supposed dependence on greater moisture, are seen to be erroneous. +</p> + +<p> +The decrease in the rain- and snow-fall since the close of the glacial period +in the Sierra is much less than is commonly guessed. The highest post-glacial +watermarks are well preserved in all the upper river channels, and they are not +greatly higher than the spring floodmarks of the present; showing conclusively +that no extraordinary decrease has taken place in the volume of the upper +tributaries of post-glacial Sierra streams since they came into existence. But +in the mean time, eliminating all this complicated question of climatic change, +the plain fact remains that <i>the present rain- and snow-fall is abundantly +sufficient for the luxuriant growth of Sequoia forests</i>. Indeed, all my +observations tend to show that in a prolonged drought the Sugar Pines and firs +would perish before the Sequoia, not alone because of the greater longevity of +individual trees, but because the species can endure more drought, and make the +most of whatever moisture falls. +</p> + +<p> +Again, if the restriction and irregular distribution of the species be +interpreted as a result of the desiccation of the range, then instead of +increasing as it does in individuals toward the south where the rainfall is +less, it should diminish. +</p> + +<p> +If, then, the peculiar distribution of Sequoia has not been governed by +superior conditions of soil as to fertility or moisture, by what has it been +governed? +</p> + +<p> +In the course of my studies I observed that the northern groves, the only ones +I was at first acquainted with, were located on just those portions of the +general forest soil-belt that were first laid bare toward the close of the +glacial period when the ice-sheet began to break up into individual glaciers. +And while searching the wide basin of the San Joaquin, and trying to account +for the absence of Sequoia where every condition seemed favorable for its +growth, it occured to me that this remarkable gap in the Sequoia belt is +located exactly in the basin of the vast ancient <i>mer de glace</i> of the San +Joaquin and King’s River basins, which poured its frozen floods to the +plain, fed by the snows that fell on more than fifty miles of the summit. I +then perceived that the next great gap in the belt to the northward, forty +miles wide, extending between the Calaveras and Tuolumne groves, occurs in the +basin of the great ancient <i>mer de glace</i> of the Tuolumne and Stanislaus +basins, and that the smaller gap between the Merced and Mariposa groves occurs +in the basin of the smaller glacier of the Merced. <i>The wider the ancient +glacier, the wider the corresponding gap in the Sequoia belt</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Finally, pursuing my investigations across the basins of the Kaweah and Tule, I +discovered that the Sequoia belt attained its greatest development just where, +owing to the topographical peculiarities of the region, the ground had been +most perfectly protected from the main ice-rivers that continued to pour past +from the summit fountains long after the smaller local glaciers had been +melted. +</p> + +<p> +Taking now a general view of the belt, beginning at the south, we see that the +majestic ancient glaciers were shed off right and left down the valleys of Kern +and King’s rivers by the lofty protective spurs outspread embracingly +above the warm Sequoia-filled basins of the Kaweah and Tule. Then, next +northward, occurs the wide Sequoia-less channel, or basin, of the ancient San +Joaquin and King’s River <i>mer de glace</i>; then the warm, protected +spots of Fresno and Mariposa groves; then the Sequoia-less channel of the +ancient Merced glacier; next the warm, sheltered ground of the Merced and +Tuolumne groves; then the Sequoia-less channel of the grand ancient <i>mer de +glace</i> of the Tuolumne and Stanislaus; then the warm old ground of the +Calaveras and Stanislaus groves. It appears, therefore, that just where, at a +certain period in the history of the Sierra, the glaciers were not, there the +Sequoia is, and just where the glaciers were, there the Sequoia is not. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus36"></a> +<img src="images/img36.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="VIEW IN TUOLUMNE CAÑON" /> +<p class="caption">VIEW IN TUOLUMNE CAÑON, YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK.</p> +</div> + +<p> +What the other conditions may have been that enabled Sequoia to establish +itself upon these oldest and warmest portions of the main glacial soil-belt, I +cannot say. I might venture to state, however, in this connection, that since +the Sequoia forests present a more and more ancient aspect as they extend +southward, I am inclined to think that the species was distributed from the +south, while the Sugar Pine, its great rival in the northern groves, seems to +have come around the head of the Sacramento valley and down the Sierra from the +north; consequently, when the Sierra soil-beds were first thrown open to +preemption on the melting of the ice-sheet, the Sequoia may have established +itself along the available portions of the south half of the range prior to the +arrival of the Sugar Pine, while the Sugar Pine took possession of the north +half prior to the arrival of Sequoia. +</p> + +<p> +But however much uncertainty may attach to this branch of the question, there +are no obscuring shadows upon the grand general relationship we have pointed +out between the present distribution of Sequoia and the ancient glaciers of the +Sierra. And when we bear in mind that all the present forests of the Sierra are +young, growing on moraine soil recently deposited, and that the flank of the +range itself, with all its landscapes, is new-born, recently sculptured, and +brought to the light of day from beneath the ice mantle of the glacial winter, +then a thousand lawless mysteries disappear, and broad harmonies take their +places. +</p> + +<p> +But although all the observed phenomena bearing on the post-glacial history of +this colossal tree point to the conclusion that it never was more widely +distributed on the Sierra since the close of the glacial epoch; that its +present forests are scarcely past prime, if, indeed, they have reached prime; +that the post-glacial day of the species is probably not half done; yet, when +from a wider outlook the vast antiquity of the genus is considered, and its +ancient richness in species and individuals; comparing our Sierra Giant and +<i>Sequoia sempervirens</i> of the Coast Range, the only other living species +of Sequoia, with the twelve fossil species already discovered and described by +Heer and Lesquereux, some of which seem to have flourished over vast areas in +the Arctic regions and in Europe and our own territories, during tertiary and +cretaceous times,—then indeed it becomes plain that our two surviving +species, restricted to narrow belts within the limits of California, are mere +remnants of the genus, both as to species and individuals, and that they +probably are verging to extinction. But the verge of a period beginning in +cretaceous times may have a breadth of tens of thousands of years, not to +mention the possible existence of conditions calculated to multiply and +reëxtend both species and individuals. This, however, is a branch of the +question into which I do not now purpose to enter. +</p> + +<p> +In studying the fate of our forest king, we have thus far considered the action +of purely natural causes only; but, unfortunately, <i>man</i> is in the woods, +and waste and pure destruction are making rapid headway. If the importance of +forests were at all understood, even from an economic standpoint, their +preservation would call forth the most watchful attention of government. Only +of late years by means of forest reservations has the simplest groundwork for +available legislation been laid, while in many of the finest groves every +species of destruction is still moving on with accelerated speed. +</p> + +<p> +In the course of my explorations I found no fewer than five mills located on or +near the lower edge of the Sequoia belt, all of which were cutting considerable +quantities of Big Tree lumber. Most of the Fresno group are doomed to feed the +mills recently erected near them, and a company of lumbermen are now cutting +the magnificent forest on King’s River. In these milling operations waste +far exceeds use, for after the choice young manageable trees on any given spot +have been felled, the woods are fired to clear the ground of limbs and refuse +with reference to further operations, and, of course, most of the seedlings and +saplings are destroyed. +</p> + +<p> +These mill ravages, however, are small as compared with the comprehensive +destruction caused by “sheepmen.” Incredible numbers of sheep are +driven to the mountain pastures every summer, and their course is ever marked +by desolation. Every wild garden is trodden down, the shrubs are stripped of +leaves as if devoured by locusts, and the woods are burned. Running fires are +set everywhere, with a view to clearing the ground of prostrate trunks, to +facilitate the movements of the flocks and improve the pastures. The entire +forest belt is thus swept and devastated from one extremity of the range to the +other, and, with the exception of the resinous <i>Pinus contorta</i>, Sequoia +suffers most of all. Indians burn off the underbrush in certain localities to +facilitate deer-hunting, mountaineers and lumbermen carelessly allow their +camp-fires to run; but the fires of the sheepmen, or <i>muttoneers</i>, form +more than ninety per cent. of all destructive fires that range the Sierra +forests. +</p> + +<p> +It appears, therefore, that notwithstanding our forest king might live on +gloriously in Nature’s keeping, it is rapidly vanishing before the fire +and steel of man; and unless protective measures be speedily invented and +applied, in a few decades, at the farthest, all that will be left of <i>Sequoia +gigantea</i> will be a few hacked and scarred monuments. +</p> + +<h4> +TWO-LEAVED, OR TAMARACK, PINE<br/> +<small>(<i>Pinus contorta</i>, var.<i>Marrayana</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +This species forms the bulk of the alpine forests, extending along the range, +above the fir zone, up to a height of from 8000 to 9500 feet above the sea, +growing in beautiful order upon moraines that are scarcely changed as yet by +post-glacial weathering. Compared with the giants of the lower zones, this is a +small tree, seldom attaining a height of a hundred feet. The largest specimen I +ever measured was ninety feet in height, and a little over six in diameter four +feet from the ground. The average height of mature trees throughout the entire +belt is probably not far from fifty or sixty feet, with a diameter of two feet. +It is a well-proportioned, rather handsome little pine, with grayish-brown +bark, and crooked, much-divided branches, which cover the greater portion of +the trunk, not so densely, however, as to prevent its being seen. The lower +limbs curve downward, gradually take a horizontal position about half-way up +the trunk, then aspire more and more toward the summit, thus forming a sharp, +conical top. The foliage is short and rigid, two leaves in a fascicle, arranged +in comparatively long, cylindrical tassels at the ends of the tough, up-curving +branchlets. The cones are about two inches long, growing in stiff clusters +among the needles, without making any striking effect, except while very young, +when they are of a vivid crimson color, and the whole tree appears to be dotted +with brilliant flowers. The sterile cones are still more showy, on account of +their great abundance, often giving a reddish-yellow tinge to the whole mass of +the foliage, and filling the air with pollen. +</p> + +<p> +No other pine on the range is so regularly planted as this one. Moraine forests +sweep along the sides of the high, rocky valleys for miles without +interruption; still, strictly speaking, they are not dense, for flecks of +sunshine and flowers find their way into the darkest places, where the trees +grow tallest and thickest. Tall, nutritious grasses are specially abundant +beneath them, growing over all the ground, in sunshine and shade, over +extensive areas like a farmer’s crop, and serving as pasture for the +multitude of sheep that are driven from the arid plains every summer as soon as +the snow is melted. +</p> + +<p> +The Two-leaved Pine, more than any other, is subject to destruction by fire. +The thin bark is streaked and sprinkled with resin, as though it had been +showered down upon it like rain, so that even the green trees catch fire +readily, and during strong winds whole forests are destroyed, the flames +leaping from tree to tree, forming one continuous belt of roaring fire that +goes surging and racing onward above the bending woods, like the grass-fires of +a prairie. During the calm, dry season of Indian summer, the fire creeps +quietly along the ground, feeding on the dry needles and burs; then, arriving +at the foot of a tree, the resiny bark is ignited, and the heated air ascends +in a powerful current, increasing in velocity, and dragging the flames swiftly +upward; then the leaves catch fire, and an immense column of flame, beautifully +spired on the edges, and tinted a rose-purple hue, rushes aloft thirty or forty +feet above the top of the tree, forming a grand spectacle, especially on a dark +night. It lasts, however, only a few seconds, vanishing with magical rapidity, +to be succeeded by others along the fire-line at irregular intervals for weeks +at a time—tree after tree flashing and darkening, leaving the trunks and +branches hardly scarred. The heat, however, is sufficient to kill the trees, +and in a few years the bark shrivels and falls off. Belts miles in extent are +thus killed and left standing with the branches on, peeled and rigid, appearing +gray in the distance, like misty clouds. Later the branches drop off, leaving a +forest of bleached spars. At length the roots decay, and the forlorn trunks are +blown down during some storm, and piled one upon another encumbering the ground +until they are consumed by the next fire, and leave it ready for a fresh crop. +</p> + +<p> +The endurance of the species is shown by its wandering occasionally out over +the lava plains with the Yellow Pine, and climbing moraineless mountain-sides +with the Dwarf Pine, clinging to any chance support in rifts and crevices of +storm-beaten rocks—always, however, showing the effects of such hardships +in every feature. +</p> + +<p> +Down in sheltered lake hollows, on beds of rich alluvium, it varies so far from +the common form as frequently to be taken for a distinct species. Here it grows +in dense sods, like grasses, from forty to eighty feet high, bending all +together to the breeze and whirling in eddying gusts more lithely than any +other tree in the woods. I have frequently found specimens fifty feet high less +than five inches in diameter. Being thus slender, and at the same time well +clad with leafy boughs, it is oftentimes bent to the ground when laden with +soft snow, forming beautiful arches in endless variety, some of which last +until the melting of the snow in spring. +</p> + +<h4> +MOUNTAIN PINE<br/> +<small>(<i>Pinus monticola</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +The Mountain Pine is king of the alpine woods, brave, hardy, and long-lived, +towering grandly above its companions, and becoming stronger and more imposing +just where other species begin to crouch and disappear. At its best it is +usually about ninety feet high and five or six in diameter, though a specimen +is often met considerably larger than this. The trunk is as massive and as +suggestive of enduring strength as that of an oak. About two thirds of the +trunk is commonly free of limbs, but close, fringy tufts of sprays occur all +the way down, like those which adorn the colossal shafts of Sequoia. The bark +is deep reddish-brown upon trees that occupy exposed situations near its upper +limit, and furrowed rather deeply, the main furrows running nearly parallel +with each other, and connected by conspicuous cross furrows, which, with one +exception, are, as far as I have noticed, peculiar to this species. +</p> + +<p> +The cones are from four to eight inches long, slender, cylindrical, and +somewhat curved, resembling those of the common White Pine of the Atlantic +coast. They grow in clusters of about from three to six or seven, becoming +pendulous as they increase in weight, chiefly by the bending of the branches. +</p> + +<p> +This species is nearly related to the Sugar Pine, and, though not half so tall, +it constantly suggests its noble relative in the way that it extends its long +arms and in general habit. The Mountain Pine is first met on the upper margin +of the fir zone, growing singly in a subdued, inconspicuous form, in what +appear as chance situations, without making much impression on the general +forest. Continuing up through the Two-leaved Pines in the same scattered +growth, it begins to show its character, and at an elevation of about 10,000 +feet attains its noblest development near the middle of the range, tossing its +tough arms in the frosty air, welcoming storms and feeding on them, and +reaching the grand old age of 1000 years. +</p> + +<h4> +JUNIPER, OR RED CEDAR<br/> +<small>(<i>Juniperus occidentalis</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus37"></a> +<img src="images/img37.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="JUNIPER, OR RED CEDAR" /> +<p class="caption">JUNIPER, OR RED CEDAR.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The Juniper is preëminently a rock tree, occupying the baldest domes and +pavements, where there is scarcely a handful of soil, at a height of from 7000 +to 9500 feet. In such situations the trunk is frequently over eight feet in +diameter, and not much more in height. The top is almost always dead in old +trees, and great stubborn limbs push out horizontally that are mostly broken +and bare at the ends, but densely covered and embedded here and there with +bossy mounds of gray foliage. Some are mere weathered stumps, as broad as long, +decorated with a few leafy sprays, reminding one of the crumbling towers of +some ancient castle scantily draped with ivy. Only upon the head waters of the +Carson have I found this species established on good moraine soil. Here it +flourishes with the Silver and Two-leaved Pines, in great beauty and +luxuriance, attaining a height of from forty to sixty feet, and manifesting but +little of that rocky angularity so characteristic a feature throughout the +greater portion, of its range. Two of the largest, growing at the head of Hope +Valley, measured twenty-nine feet three inches and twenty-five feet six inches +in circumference, respectively, four feet from the ground. The bark is of a +bright cinnamon color, and, in thrifty trees, beautifully braided and +reticulated, flaking off in thin, lustrous ribbons that are sometimes used by +Indians for tent-matting. Its fine color and odd picturesqueness always catch +an artist’s eye, but to me the Juniper seems a singularly dull and +taciturn tree, never speaking to one’s heart. I have spent many a day and +night in its company, in all kinds of weather, and have ever found it silent, +cold, and rigid, like a column of ice. Its broad stumpiness, of course, +precludes all possibility of waving, or even shaking; but it is not this rocky +steadfastness that constitutes its silence. In calm, sun-days the Sugar Pine +preaches the grandeur of the mountains like an apostle without moving a leaf. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus38"></a> +<img src="images/img38.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="STORM-BEATEN JUNIPERS" /> +<p class="caption">STORM-BEATEN JUNIPERS.</p> +</div> + +<p> +On level rocks it dies standing, and wastes insensibly out of existence like +granite, the wind exerting about as little control over it alive or dead as it +does over a glacier boulder. Some are undoubtedly over 2000 years old. All the +trees of the alpine woods suffer, more or less, from avalanches, the Two-leaved +Pine most of all. Gaps two or three hundred yards wide, extending from the +upper limit of the tree-line to the bottoms of valleys and lake basins, are of +common occurrence in all the upper forests, resembling the clearings of +settlers in the old backwoods. Scarcely a tree is spared, even the soil is +scraped away, while the thousands of uprooted pines and spruces are piled upon +one another heads downward, and tucked snugly in along the sides of the +clearing in two windrows, like lateral moraines. The pines lie with branches +wilted and drooping like weeds. Not so the burly junipers. After braving in +silence the storms of perhaps a dozen or twenty centuries, they seem in this, +their last calamity, to become somewhat communicative, making sign of a very +unwilling acceptance of their fate, holding themselves well up from the ground +on knees and elbows, seemingly ill at ease, and anxious, like stubborn +wrestlers, to rise again. +</p> + +<h4> +HEMLOCK SPRUCE<br/> +<small>(<i>Tsuga Pattoniana</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +The Hemlock Spruce is the most singularly beautiful of all the California +coniferae. So slender is its axis at the top, that it bends over and droops +like the stalk of a nodding lily. The branches droop also, and divide into +innumerable slender, waving sprays, which are arranged in a varied, eloquent +harmony that is wholly indescribable. Its cones are purple, and hang free, in +the form of little tassels two inches long from all the sprays from top to +bottom. Though exquisitely delicate and feminine in expression, it grows best +where the snow lies deepest, far up in the region of storms, at an elevation of +from 9000 to 9500 feet, on frosty northern slopes; but it is capable of growing +considerably higher, say 10,500 feet. The tallest specimens, growing in +sheltered hollows somewhat beneath the heaviest wind-currents, are from eighty +to a hundred feet high, and from two to four feet in diameter. The very largest +specimen I ever found was nineteen feet seven inches in circumference four feet +from the ground, growing on the edge of Lake Hollow, at an elevation of 9250 +feet above the level of the sea. At the age of twenty or thirty years it +becomes fruitful, and hangs out its beautiful purple cones at the ends of the +slender sprays, where they swing free in the breeze, and contrast delightfully +with the cool green foliage. They are translucent when young, and their beauty +is delicious. After they are fully ripe, they spread their shell-like scales +and allow the brown-winged seeds to fly in the mellow air, while the empty +cones remain to beautify the tree until the coming of a fresh crop. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus39"></a> +<img src="images/img39.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="STORM-BEATEN HEMLOCK SPRUCE, FORTY FEET HIGH" /> +<p class="caption">STORM-BEATEN HEMLOCK SPRUCE, FORTY FEET HIGH.</p> +</div> +<p> +The staminate cones of all the coniferae are beautiful, growing in bright +clusters, yellow, and rose, and crimson. Those of the Hemlock Spruce are the +most beautiful of all, forming little conelets of blue flowers, each on a +slender stem. +</p> + +<p> +Under all conditions, sheltered or storm-beaten, well-fed or ill-fed, this tree +is singularly graceful in habit. Even at its highest limit upon exposed +ridge-tops, though compelled to crouch in dense thickets, huddled close +together, as if for mutual protection, it still manages to throw out its sprays +in irrepressible loveliness; while on well-ground moraine soil it develops a +perfectly tropical luxuriance of foliage and fruit, and is the very loveliest +tree in the forest; poised in thin white sunshine, clad with branches from head +to foot, yet not in the faintest degree heavy or bunchy, it towers in +unassuming majesty, drooping as if unaffected with the aspiring tendencies of +its race, loving the ground while transparently conscious of heaven and +joyously receptive of its blessings, reaching out its branches like sensitive +tentacles, feeling the light and reveling in it. No other of our alpine +conifers so finely veils its strength. Its delicate branches yield to the +mountains’ gentlest breath; yet is it strong to meet the wildest onsets +of the gale,—strong not in resistance, but compliance, bowing, +snow-laden, to the ground, gracefully accepting burial month after month in the +darkness beneath the heavy mantle of winter. +</p> + +<p> +When the first soft snow begins to fall, the flakes lodge in the leaves, +weighing down the branches against the trunk. Then the axis bends yet lower and +lower, until the slender top touches the ground, thus forming a fine ornamental +arch. The snow still falls lavishly, and the whole tree is at length buried, to +sleep and rest in its beautiful grave as though dead. Entire groves of young +trees, from ten to forty feet high, are thus buried every winter like slender +grasses. But, like the violets and daisies which the heaviest snows crush not, +they are safe. It is as though this were only Nature’s method of putting +her darlings to sleep instead of leaving them exposed to the biting storms of +winter. +</p> + +<p> +Thus warmly wrapped they await the summer resurrection. The snow becomes soft +in the sunshine, and freezes at night, making the mass hard and compact, like +ice, so that during the months of April and May you can ride a horse over the +prostrate groves without catching sight of a single leaf. At length the +down-pouring sunshine sets them free. First the elastic tops of the arches +begin to appear, then one branch after another, each springing loose with a +gentle rustling sound, and at length the whole tree, with the assistance of the +winds, gradually unbends and rises and settles back into its place in the warm +air, as dry and feathery and fresh as young ferns just out of the coil. +</p> + +<p> +Some of the finest groves I have yet found are on the southern slopes of +Lassen’s Butte. There are also many charming companies on the head waters +of the Tuolumne, Merced, and San Joaquin, and, in general, the species is so +far from being rare that you can scarcely fail to find groves of considerable +extent in crossing the range, choose what pass you may. The Mountain Pine grows +beside it, and more frequently the two-leaved species; but there are many +beautiful groups, numbering 1000 individuals, or more, without a single +intruder. +</p> + +<p> +I wish I had space to write more of the surpassing beauty of this favorite +spruce. Every tree-lover is sure to regard it with special admiration; +apathetic mountaineers, even, seeking only game or gold, stop to gaze on first +meeting it, and mutter to themselves: “That’s a mighty pretty +tree,” some of them adding, “d——d pretty!” In +autumn, when its cones are ripe, the little striped tamias, and the Douglas +squirrel, and the Clark crow make a happy stir in its groves. The deer love to +lie down beneath its spreading branches; bright streams from the snow that is +always near ripple through its groves, and bryanthus spreads precious carpets +in its shade. But the best words only hint its charms. Come to the mountains +and see. +</p> + +<h4> +DWARF PINE<br/> +<small>(<i>Pinus albicaulis</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +This species forms the extreme edge of the timber line throughout nearly the +whole extent of the range on both flanks. It is first met growing in company +with <i>Pinus contorta</i>, var. <i>Murrayana</i>, on the upper margin of the +belt, as an erect tree from fifteen to thirty feet high and from one to two +feet in thickness; thence it goes straggling up the flanks of the summit peaks, +upon moraines or crumbling ledges, wherever it can obtain a foothold, to an +elevation of from 10,000 to 12,000 feet, where it dwarfs to a mass of crumpled, +prostrate branches, covered with slender, upright shoots, each tipped with a +short, close-packed tassel of leaves. The bark is smooth and purplish, in some +places almost white. The fertile cones grow in rigid clusters upon the upper +branches, dark chocolate in color while young, and bear beautiful pearly seeds +about the size of peas, most of which are eaten by two species of tamias and +the notable Clark crow. The staminate cones occur in clusters, about an inch +wide, down among the leaves, and, as they are colored bright rose-purple, they +give rise to a lively, flowery appearance little looked for in such a tree. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus40"></a> +<img src="images/img40.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="GROUP OF ERECT DWARF PINES" /> +<p class="caption">GROUP OF ERECT DWARF PINES.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Pines are commonly regarded as sky-loving trees that must necessarily aspire or +die. This species forms a marked exception, creeping lowly, in compliance with +the most rigorous demands of climate, yet enduring bravely to a more advanced +age than many of its lofty relatives in the sun-lands below. Seen from a +distance, it would never be taken for a tree of any kind. Yonder, for example, +is Cathedral Peak, some three miles away, with a scattered growth of this pine +creeping like mosses over the roof and around the beveled edges of the north +gable, nowhere giving any hint of an ascending axis. When approached quite near +it still appears matted and heathy, and is so low that one experiences no great +difficulty in walking over the top of it. Yet it is seldom absolutely +prostrate, at its lowest usually attaining a height of three or four feet, with +a main trunk, and branches outspread and intertangled above it, as if in +ascending they had been checked by a ceiling, against which they had grown and +been compelled to spread horizontally. The winter snow is indeed such a +ceiling, lasting half the year; while the pressed, shorn surface is made yet +smoother by violent winds, armed with cutting sand-grains, that beat down any +shoot that offers to rise much above the general level, and carve the dead +trunks and branches in beautiful patterns. +</p> + +<p> +During stormy nights I have often camped snugly beneath the interlacing arches +of this little pine. The needles, which have accumulated for centuries, make +fine beds, a fact well known to other mountaineers, such as deer and wild +sheep, who paw out oval hollows and lie beneath the larger trees in safe and +comfortable concealment. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus41"></a> +<img src="images/img41.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A DWARF PINE" /> +<p class="caption">A DWARF PINE.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The longevity of this lowly dwarf is far greater than would be guessed. Here, +for example, is a specimen, growing at an elevation of 10,700 feet, which seems +as though it might be plucked up by the roots, for it is only three and a half +inches in diameter, and its topmost tassel is hardly three feet above the +ground. Cutting it half through and counting the annual rings with the aid of a +lens, we find its age to be no less than 255 years. Here is another telling +specimen about the same height, 426 years old, whose trunk is only six inches +in diameter; and one of its supple branchlets, hardly an eighth of an inch in +diameter inside the bark, is seventy-five years old, and so filled with oily +balsam, and so well seasoned by storms, that we may tie it in knots like a +whip-cord. +</p> + +<h4> +WHITE PINE<br/> +<small>(<i>Pinus flexilis</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +This species is widely distributed throughout the Rocky Mountains, and over all +the higher of the many ranges of the Great Basin, between the Wahsatch +Mountains and the Sierra, where it is known as White Pine. In the Sierra it is +sparsely scattered along the eastern flank, from Bloody Cañon southward nearly +to the extremity of the range, opposite the village of Lone Pine, nowhere +forming any appreciable portion of the general forest. From its peculiar +position, in loose, straggling parties, it seems to have been derived from the +Basin ranges to the eastward, where it is abundant. +</p> + +<p> +It is a larger tree than the Dwarf Pine. At an elevation of about 9000 feet +above the sea, it often attains a height of forty or fifty feet, and a diameter +of from three to five feet. The cones open freely when ripe, and are twice as +large as those of the <i>albicaulis</i>, and the foliage and branches are more +open, having a tendency to sweep out in free, wild curves, like those of the +Mountain Pine, to which it is closely allied. It is seldom found lower than +9000 feet above sea-level, but from this elevation it pushes upward over the +roughest ledges to the extreme limit of tree-growth, where, in its dwarfed, +storm-crushed condition, it is more like the white-barked species. +</p> + +<p> +Throughout Utah and Nevada it is one of the principal timber-trees, great +quantities being cut every year for the mines. The famous White Pine Mining +District, White Pine City, and the White Pine Mountains have derived their +names from it. +</p> + +<h4> +NEEDLE PINE<br/> +<small>(<i>Pinus aristata</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +This species is restricted in the Sierra to the southern portion of the range, +about the head waters of Kings and Kern rivers, where it forms extensive +forests, and in some places accompanies the Dwarf Pine to the extreme limit of +tree-growth. +</p> + +<p> +It is first met at an elevation of between 9000 and 10,000 feet, and runs up to +11,000 without seeming to suffer greatly from the climate or the leanness of +the soil. It is a much finer tree than the Dwarf Pine. Instead of growing in +clumps and low, heathy mats, it manages in some way to maintain an erect +position, and usually stands single. Wherever the young trees are at all +sheltered, they grow up straight and arrowy, with delicately tapered bole, and +ascending branches terminated with glossy, bottle-brush tassels. At middle age, +certain limbs are specialized and pushed far out for the bearing of cones, +after the manner of the Sugar Pine; and in old age these branches droop and +cast about in every direction, giving rise to very picturesque effects. The +trunk becomes deep brown and rough, like that of the Mountain Pine, while the +young cones are of a strange, dull, blackish-blue color, clustered on the upper +branches. When ripe they are from three to four inches long, yellowish brown, +resembling in every way those of the Mountain Pine. Excepting the Sugar Pine, +no tree on the mountains is so capable of individual expression, while in grace +of form and movement it constantly reminds one of the Hemlock Spruce. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus42"></a> +<img src="images/img42.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="OAK GROWING AMONG YELLOW PINES" /> +<p class="caption">OAK GROWING AMONG YELLOW PINES.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The largest specimen I measured was a little over five feet in diameter and +ninety feet in height, but this is more than twice the ordinary size. +</p> + +<p> +This species is common throughout the Rocky Mountains and most of the short +ranges of the Great Basin, where it is called the Fox-tail Pine, from its long +dense leaf-tassels. On the Hot Creek, White Pine, and Golden Gate ranges it is +quite abundant. About a foot or eighteen inches of the ends of the branches is +densely packed with stiff outstanding needles which radiate like an electric +fox or squirrel’s tail. The needles have a glossy polish, and the +sunshine sifting through them makes them burn with silvery luster, while their +number and elastic temper tell delightfully in the winds. This tree is here +still more original and picturesque than in the Sierra, far surpassing not only +its companion conifers in this respect, but also the most noted of the lowland +oaks. Some stand firmly erect, feathered with radiant tassels down to the +ground, forming slender tapering towers of shining verdure; others, with two or +three specialized branches pushed out at right angles to the trunk and densely +clad with tasseled sprays, take the form of beautiful ornamental crosses. Again +in the same woods you find trees that are made up of several boles united near +the ground, spreading at the sides in a plane parallel to the axis of the +mountain, with the elegant tassels hung in charming order between them, making +a harp held against the main wind lines where they are most effective in +playing the grand storm harmonies. And besides these there are many variable +arching forms, alone or in groups, with innumerable tassels drooping beneath +the arches or radiant above them, and many lowly giants of no particular form +that have braved the storms of a thousand years. But whether old or young, +sheltered or exposed to the wildest gales, this tree is ever found +irrepressibly and extravagantly picturesque, and offers a richer and more +varied series of forms to the artist than any other conifer I know of. +</p> + +<h4> +NUT PINE<br/> +<small>(<i>Pinus monophylla</i>)</small> +</h4> + +<p> +The Nut Pine covers or rather dots the eastern flank of the Sierra, to which it +is mostly restricted, in grayish, bush-like patches, from the margin of the +sage-plains to an elevation of from 7000 to 8000 feet. +</p> + +<p> +A more contentedly fruitful and unaspiring conifer could not be conceived. All +the species we have been sketching make departures more or less distant from +the typical spire form, but none goes so far as this. Without any apparent +exigency of climate or soil, it remains near the ground, throwing out crooked, +divergent branches like an orchard apple-tree, and seldom pushes a single shoot +higher than fifteen or twenty feet above the ground. +</p> + +<p> +The average thickness of the trunk is, perhaps, about ten or twelve inches. The +leaves are mostly undivided, like round awls, instead of being separated, like +those of other pines, into twos and threes and fives. The cones are green while +growing, and are usually found over all the tree, forming quite a marked +feature as seen against the bluish-gray foliage. They are quite small, only +about two inches in length, and give no promise of edible nuts; but when we +come to open them, we find that about half the entire bulk of the cone is made +up of sweet, nutritious seeds, the kernels of which are nearly as large as +those of hazel-nuts. +</p> + +<p> +This is undoubtedly the most important food-tree on the Sierra, and furnishes +the Mono, Carson, and Walker River Indians with more and better nuts than all +the other species taken together. It is the Indians’ own tree, and many a +white man have they killed for cutting it down. +</p> + +<p> +In its development Nature seems to have aimed at the formation of as great a +fruit-bearing surface as possible. Being so low and accessible, the cones are +readily beaten off with poles, and the nuts procured by roasting them until the +scales open. In bountiful seasons a single Indian will gather thirty or forty +bushels of them—a fine squirrelish employment. +</p> + +<p> +Of all the conifers along the eastern base of the Sierra, and on all the many +mountain groups and short ranges of the Great Basin, this foodful little pine +is the commonest tree, and the most important. Nearly every mountain is planted +with it to a height of from 8000 to 9000 feet above the sea. Some are covered +from base to summit by this one species, with only a sparse growth of juniper +on the lower slopes to break the continuity of its curious woods, which, though +dark-looking at a distance, are almost shadeless, and have none of the damp, +leafy glens and hollows so characteristic of other pine woods. Tens of +thousands of acres occur in continuous belts. Indeed, viewed comprehensively +the entire Basin seems to be pretty evenly divided into level plains dotted +with sage-bushes and mountain-chains covered with Nut Pines. No slope is too +rough, none too dry, for these bountiful orchards of the red man. +</p> + +<p> +The value of this species to Nevada is not easily overestimated. It furnishes +charcoal and timber for the mines, and, with the juniper, supplies the ranches +with fuel and rough fencing. In fruitful seasons the nut crop is perhaps +greater than the California wheat crop, which exerts so much influence +throughout the food markets of the world. When, the crop is ripe, the Indians +make ready the long beating-poles; bags, baskets, mats, and sacks are +collected; the women out at service among the settlers, washing or drudging, +assemble at the family huts; the men leave their ranch work; old and young, all +are mounted on ponies and start in great glee to the nut-lands, forming +curiously picturesque cavalcades; flaming scarfs and calico skirts stream +loosely over the knotty ponies, two squaws usually astride of each, with baby +midgets bandaged in baskets slung on their backs or balanced on the saddle-bow; +while nut-baskets and water-jars project from each side, and the long +beating-poles make angles in every direction. Arriving at some well-known +central point where grass and water are found, the squaws with baskets, the men +with poles ascend the ridges to the laden trees, followed by the children. Then +the beating begins right merrily, the burs fly in every direction, rolling down +the slopes, lodging here and there against rocks and sage-bushes, chased and +gathered by the women and children with fine natural gladness. Smoke-columns +speedily mark the joyful scene of their labors as the roasting-fires are +kindled, and, at night, assembled in gay circles garrulous as jays, they begin +the first nut feast of the season. +</p> + +<p> +The nuts are about half an inch long and a quarter of an inch in diameter, +pointed at the top, round at the base, light brown in general color, and, like +many other pine seeds, handsomely dotted with purple, like birds’ eggs. +The shells are thin and may be crushed between the thumb and finger. The +kernels are white, becoming brown by roasting, and are sweet to every palate, +being eaten by birds, squirrels, dogs, horses, and men. Perhaps less than one +bushel in a thousand of the whole crop is ever gathered. Still, besides +supplying their own wants, in times of plenty the Indians bring large +quantities to market; then they are eaten around nearly every fireside in the +State, and are even fed to horses occasionally instead of barley. +</p> + +<p> +Of other trees growing on the Sierra, but forming a very small part of the +general forest, we may briefly notice the following: +</p> + +<p> +<i>Chamoecyparis Lawsoniana</i> is a magnificent tree in the coast ranges, but +small in the Sierra. It is found only well to the northward along the banks of +cool streams on the upper Sacramento toward Mount Shasta. Only a few trees of +this species, as far as I have seen, have as yet gained a place in the Sierra +woods. It has evidently been derived from the coast range by way of the tangle +of connecting mountains at the head of the Sacramento Valley. +</p> + +<p> +In shady dells and on cool stream banks of the northern Sierra we also find the +Yew (<i>Taxus brevifolia</i>). +</p> + +<p> +The interesting Nutmeg Tree (<i>Torreya Californica</i>) is sparsely +distributed along the western flank of the range at an elevation of about 4000 +feet, mostly in gulches and cañons. It is a small, prickly leaved, glossy +evergreen, like a conifer, from twenty to fifty feet high, and one to two feet +in diameter. The fruit resembles a green-gage plum, and contains one seed, +about the size of an acorn, and like a nutmeg, hence the common name. The wood +is fine-grained and of a beautiful, creamy yellow color like box, sweet-scented +when dry, though the green leaves emit a disagreeable odor. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Betula occidentalis</i>, the only birch, is a small, slender tree restricted +to the eastern flank of the range along stream-sides below the pine-belt, +especially in Owen’s Valley. +</p> + +<p> +Alder, Maple, and Nuttall’s Flowering Dogwood make beautiful bowers over +swift, cool streams at an elevation of from 3000 to 5000 feet, mixed more or +less with willows and cottonwood; and above these in lake basins the aspen +forms fine ornamental groves, and lets its light shine gloriously in the autumn +months. +</p> + +<p> +The Chestnut Oak (<i>Quercus densiflora</i>) seems to have come from the coast +range around the head of the Sacramento Valley, like the <i>Chamaecyparis</i>, +but as it extends southward along the lower edge of the main pine-belt it grows +smaller until it finally dwarfs to a mere chaparral bush. In the coast +mountains it is a fine, tall, rather slender tree, about from sixty to +seventy-five feet high, growing with the grand <i>Sequoia sempervirens</i>, or +Redwood. But unfortunately it is too good to live, and is now being rapidly +destroyed for tan-bark. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus43"></a> +<img src="images/img43.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="PATE VALLEY, SHOWING THE OAKS. TUOLUMNE CAÑON, YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK." /> +<p class="caption">PATE VALLEY, SHOWING THE OAKS. TUOLUMNE CAÑON, YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Besides the common Douglas Oak and the grand <i>Quercus Wislizeni</i> of the +foot-hills, and several small ones that make dense growths of chaparral, there +are two mountain-oaks that grow with the pines up to an elevation of about 5000 +feet above the sea, and greatly enhance the beauty of the yosemite parks. These +are the Mountain Live Oak and the Kellogg Oak, named in honor of the admirable +botanical pioneer of California. Kellogg’s Oak (<i>Quercus Kelloggii</i>) +is a firm, bright, beautiful tree, reaching a height of sixty feet, four to +seven feet in diameter, with wide-spreading branches, and growing at an +elevation of from 3000 to 5000 feet in sunny valleys and flats among the +evergreens, and higher in a dwarfed state. In the cliff-bound parks about 4000 +feet above the sea it is so abundant and effective it might fairly be called +the Yosemite Oak. The leaves make beautiful masses of purple in the spring, and +yellow in ripe autumn; while its acorns are eagerly gathered by Indians, +squirrels, and woodpeckers. The Mountain Live Oak (<i>Q. Chrysolepis</i>) is a +tough, rugged mountaineer of a tree, growing bravely and attaining noble +dimensions on the roughest earthquake taluses in deep cañons and yosemite +valleys. The trunk is usually short, dividing near the ground into great, +wide-spreading limbs, and these again into a multitude of slender sprays, many +of them cord-like and drooping to the ground, like those of the Great White Oak +of the lowlands (<i>Q. lobata</i>). The top of the tree where there is plenty +of space is broad and bossy, with a dense covering of shining leaves, making +delightful canopies, the complicated system of gray, interlacing, arching +branches as seen from beneath being exceedingly rich and picturesque. No other +tree that I know dwarfs so regularly and completely as this under changes of +climate due to changes in elevation. At the foot of a cañon 4000 feet above the +sea you may find magnificent specimens of this oak fifty feet high, with +craggy, bulging trunks, five to seven feet in diameter, and at the head of the +cañon, 2500 feet higher, a dense, soft, low, shrubby growth of the same +species, while all the way up the cañon between these extremes of size and +habit a perfect gradation may be traced. The largest I have seen was fifty feet +high, eight feet in diameter, and about seventy-five feet in spread. The trunk +was all knots and buttresses, gray like granite, and about as angular and +irregular as the boulders on which it was growing—a type of steadfast, +unwedgeable strength. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX<br/> +THE DOUGLAS SQUIRREL<br/> +<small>(<i>Sciurus Douglasii</i>)</small></h2> + +<p> +The Douglas Squirrel is by far the most interesting and influential of the +California sciuridae, surpassing every other species in force of character, +numbers, and extent of range, and in the amount of influence he brings to bear +upon the health and distribution of the vast forests he inhabits. +</p> + +<p> +Go where you will throughout the noble woods of the Sierra Nevada, among the +giant pines and spruces of the lower zones, up through the towering Silver Firs +to the storm-bent thickets of the summit peaks, you everywhere find this little +squirrel the master-existence. Though only a few inches long, so intense is his +fiery vigor and restlessness, he stirs every grove with wild life, and makes +himself more important than even the huge bears that shuffle through the +tangled underbrush beneath him. Every wind is fretted by his voice, almost +every bole and branch feels the sting of his sharp feet. How much the growth of +the trees is stimulated by this means it is not easy to learn, but his action +in manipulating their seeds is more appreciable. Nature has made him master +forester and committed most of her coniferous crops to his paws. Probably over +fifty per cent. of all the cones ripened on the Sierra are cut off and handled +by the Douglas alone, and of those of the Big Trees perhaps ninety per cent. +pass through his hands: the greater portion is of course stored away for food +to last during the winter and spring, but some of them are tucked separately +into loosely covered holes, where some of the seeds germinate and become trees. +But the Sierra is only one of the many provinces over which he holds sway, for +his dominion extends over all the Redwood Belt of the Coast Mountains, and far +northward throughout the majestic forests of Oregon, Washington, and British +Columbia. I make haste to mention these facts, to show upon how substantial a +foundation the importance I ascribe to him rests. +</p> + +<p> +The Douglas is closely allied to the Red Squirrel or Chickaree of the eastern +woods. Ours may be a lineal descendant of this species, distributed westward to +the Pacific by way of the Great Lakes and the Rocky Mountains, and thence +southward along our forested ranges. This view is suggested by the fact that +our species becomes redder and more Chickaree-like in general, the farther it +is traced back along the course indicated above. But whatever their +relationship, and the evolutionary forces that have acted upon them, the +Douglas is now the larger and more beautiful animal. +</p> + +<p> +From the nose to the root of the tail he measures about eight inches; and his +tail, which he so effectively uses in interpreting his feelings, is about six +inches in length. He wears dark bluish-gray over the back and half-way down the +sides, bright buff on the belly, with a stripe of dark gray, nearly black, +separating the upper and under colors; this dividing stripe, however, is not +very sharply defined. He has long black whiskers, which gives him a rather +fierce look when observed closely, strong claws, sharp as fish-hooks, and the +brightest of bright eyes, full of telling speculation. +</p> + +<p> +A King’s River Indian told me that they call him +“Pillillooeet,” which, rapidly pronounced with the first syllable +heavily accented, is not unlike the lusty exclamation he utters on his way up a +tree when excited. Most mountaineers in California call him the Pine Squirrel; +and when I asked an old trapper whether he knew our little forester, he replied +with brightening countenance: “Oh, yes, of course I know him; everybody +knows him. When I’m huntin’ in the woods, I often find out where +the deer are by his barkin’ at ’em. I call ’em +Lightnin’ Squirrels, because they’re so mighty quick and +peert.” +</p> + +<p> +All the true squirrels are more or less birdlike in speech and movements; but +the Douglas is preëminently so, possessing, as he does, every attribute +peculiarly squirrelish enthusiastically concentrated. He is the squirrel of +squirrels, flashing from branch to branch of his favorite evergreens crisp and +glossy and undiseased as a sunbeam. Give him wings and he would outfly any bird +in the woods. His big gray cousin is a looser animal, seemingly light enough to +float on the wind; yet when leaping from limb to limb, or out of one tree-top +to another, he sometimes halts to gather strength, as if making efforts +concerning the upshot of which he does not always feel exactly confident. But +the Douglas, with his denser body, leaps and glides in hidden strength, +seemingly as independent of common muscles as a mountain stream. He threads the +tasseled branches of the pines, stirring their needles like a rustling breeze; +now shooting across openings in arrowy lines; now launching in curves, glinting +deftly from side to side in sudden zigzags, and swirling in giddy loops and +spirals around the knotty trunks; getting into what seem to be the most +impossible situations without sense of danger; now on his haunches, now on his +head; yet ever graceful, and punctuating his most irrepressible outbursts of +energy with little dots and dashes of perfect repose. He is, without exception, +the wildest animal I ever saw,—a fiery, sputtering little bolt of life, +luxuriating in quick oxygen and the woods’ best juices. One can hardly +think of such a creature being dependent, like the rest of us, on climate and +food. But, after all, it requires no long acquaintance to learn he is human, +for he works for a living. His busiest time is in the Indian summer. Then he +gathers burs and hazel-nuts like a plodding farmer, working continuously every +day for hours; saying not a word; cutting off the ripe cones at the top of his +speed, as if employed by the job, and examining every branch in regular order, +as if careful that not one should escape him; then, descending, he stores them +away beneath logs and stumps, in anticipation of the pinching hunger days of +winter. He seems himself a kind of coniferous fruit,—both fruit and +flower. The resiny essences of the pines pervade every pore of his body, and +eating his flesh is like chewing gum. +</p> + +<p> +One never tires of this bright chip of nature,—this brave little voice +crying in the wilderness,—of observing his many works and ways, and +listening to his curious language. His musical, piny gossip is as savory to the +ear as balsam to the palate; and, though he has not exactly the gift of song, +some of his notes are as sweet as those of a linnet—almost flute-like in +softness, while others prick and tingle like thistles. He is the mocking-bird +of squirrels, pouring forth mixed chatter and song like a perennial fountain; +barking like a dog, screaming like a hawk, chirping like a blackbird or a +sparrow; while in bluff, audacious noisiness he is a very jay. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:30%;"> +<a name="illus44"></a> +<img src="images/img44.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="TRACK OF DOUGLAS SQUIRREL +ONCE DOWN AND UP A PINE-TREE WHEN SHOWING OFF TO A SPECTATOR" /> +<p class="caption">TRACK OF DOUGLAS SQUIRREL ONCE DOWN AND UP A PINE-TREE WHEN +SHOWING OFF TO A SPECTATOR.</p> +</div> + +<p> +In descending the trunk of a tree with the intention of alighting on the +ground, he preserves a cautious silence, mindful, perhaps, of foxes and +wildcats; but while rocking safely at home in the pine-tops there is no end to +his capers and noise; and woe to the gray squirrel or chipmunk that ventures to +set foot on his favorite tree! No matter how slyly they trace the furrows of +the bark, they are speedily discovered, and kicked down-stairs with comic +vehemence, while a torrent of angry notes comes rushing from his whiskered lips +that sounds remarkably like swearing. He will even attempt at times to drive +away dogs and men, especially if he has had no previous knowledge of them. +Seeing a man for the first time, he approaches nearer and nearer, until within +a few feet; then, with an angry outburst, he makes a sudden rush, all teeth and +eyes, as if about to eat you up. But, finding that the big, forked animal +doesn’t scare, he prudently beats a retreat, and sets himself up to +reconnoiter on some overhanging branch, scrutinizing every movement you make +with ludicrous solemnity. Gathering courage, he ventures down the trunk again, +churring and chirping, and jerking nervously up and down in curious loops, +eyeing you all the time, as if snowing off and demanding your admiration. +Finally, growing calmer, he settles down in a comfortable posture on some +horizontal branch commanding a good view, and beats time with his tail to a +steady “Chee-up! chee-up!” or, when somewhat less excited, +“Pee-ah!” with the first syllable keenly accented, and the second +drawn out like the scream of a hawk,—repeating this slowly and more +emphatically at first, then gradually faster, until a rate of about 150 words a +minute is reached; usually sitting all the time on his haunches, with paws +resting on his breast, which pulses visibly with each word. It is remarkable, +too, that, though articulating distinctly, he keeps his mouth shut most of the +time, and speaks through his nose. I have occasionally observed him even eating +Sequoia seeds and nibbling a troublesome flea, without ceasing or in any way +confusing his “Pee-ah! pee-ah!” for a single moment. +</p> + +<p> +While ascending trees all his claws come into play, but in descending the +weight of his body is sustained chiefly by those of the hind feet; still in +neither case do his movements suggest effort, though if you are near enough you +may see the bulging strength of his short, bear-like arms, and note his sinewy +fists clinched in the bark. +</p> + +<p> +Whether going up or down, he carries his tail extended at full length in line +with his body, unless it be required for gestures. But while running along +horizontal limbs or fallen trunks, it is frequently folded forward over the +back, with the airy tip daintily upcurled. In cool weather it keeps him warm. +Then, after he has finished his meal, you may see him crouched close on some +level limb with his tail-robe neatly spread and reaching forward to his ears, +the electric, outstanding hairs quivering in the breeze like pine-needles. But +in wet or very cold weather he stays in his nest, and while curled up there his +comforter is long enough to come forward around his nose. It is seldom so cold, +however, as to prevent his going out to his stores when hungry. +</p> + +<p> +Once as I lay storm-bound on the upper edge of the timber line on Mount Shasta, +the thermometer nearly at zero and the sky thick with driving snow, a Douglas +came bravely out several times from one of the lower hollows of a Dwarf Pine +near my camp, faced the wind without seeming to feel it much, frisked lightly +about over the mealy snow, and dug his way down to some hidden seeds with +wonderful precision, as if to his eyes the thick snow-covering were glass. +</p> + +<p> +No other of the Sierra animals of my acquaintance is better fed, not even the +deer, amid abundance of sweet herbs and shrubs, or the mountain sheep, or +omnivorous bears. His food consists of grass-seeds, berries, hazel-nuts, +chinquapins, and the nuts and seeds of all the coniferous trees without +exception,—Pine, Fir, Spruce, Libocedrus, Juniper, and Sequoia,—he +is fond of them all, and they all agree with him, green or ripe. No cone is too +large for him to manage, none so small as to be beneath his notice. The smaller +ones, such as those of the Hemlock, and the Douglas Spruce, and the Two-leaved +Pine, he cuts off and eats on a branch of the tree, without allowing them to +fall; beginning at the bottom of the cone and cutting away the scales to expose +the seeds; not gnawing by guess, like a bear, but turning them round and round +in regular order, in compliance with their spiral arrangement. +</p> + +<p> +When thus employed, his location in the tree is betrayed by a dribble of +scales, shells, and seed-wings, and, every few minutes, by the fall of the +stripped axis of the cone. Then of course he is ready for another, and if you +are watching you may catch a glimpse of him as he glides silently out to the +end of a branch and see him examining the cone-clusters until he finds one to +his mind; then, leaning over, pull back the springy needles out of his way, +grasp the cone with his paws to prevent its falling, snip it off in an +incredibly short time, seize it with jaws grotesquely stretched, and return to +his chosen seat near the trunk. But the immense size of the cones of the Sugar +Pine—from fifteen to twenty inches in length—and those of the +Jeffrey variety of the Yellow Pine compel him to adopt a quite different +method. He cuts them off without attempting to hold them, then goes down and +drags them from where they have chanced to fall up to the bare, swelling ground +around the instep of the tree, where he demolishes them in the same methodical +way, beginning at the bottom and following the scale-spirals to the top. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:30%;"> +<a name="illus45"></a> +<img src="images/img45.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="SEEDS, WINGS, AND SCALE OF SUGAR PINE. (NAT. SIZE.)" /> +<p class="caption">SEEDS, WINGS, AND SCALE OF SUGAR PINE. (NAT. SIZE.)</p> +</div> + +<p> +From a single Sugar Pine cone he gets from two to four hundred seeds about half +the size of a hazel-nut, so that in a few minutes he can procure enough to last +a week. He seems, however, to prefer those of the two Silver First above all +others; perhaps because they are most easily obtained, as the scales drop off +when ripe without needing to be cut. Both species are filled with an +exceedingly pungent, aromatic oil, which spices all his flesh, and is of itself +sufficient to account for his lightning energy. +</p> + +<p> +You may easily know this little workman by his chips. On sunny hillsides around +the principal trees they lie in big piles,—bushels and basketfuls of +them, all fresh and clean, making the most beautiful kitchen-middens +imaginable. The brown and yellow scales and nut-shells are as abundant and as +delicately penciled and tinted as the shells along the sea-shore; while the +beautiful red and purple seed-wings mingled with them would lead one to fancy +that innumerable butterflies had there met their fate. +</p> + +<p> +He feasts on all the species long before they are ripe, but is wise enough to +wait until they are matured before he gathers them into his barns. This is in +October and November, which with him are the two busiest months of the year. +All kinds of burs, big and little, are now cut off and showered down alike, and +the ground is speedily covered with them. A constant thudding and bumping is +kept up; some of the larger cones chancing to fall on old logs make the forest +reëcho with the sound. Other nut-eaters less industrious know well what is +going on, and hasten to carry away the cones as they fall. But however busy the +harvester may be, he is not slow to descry the pilferers below, and instantly +leaves his work to drive them away. The little striped tamias is a thorn in his +flesh, stealing persistently, punish him as he may. The large Gray Squirrel +gives trouble also, although the Douglas has been accused of stealing from him. +Generally, however, just the opposite is the case. +</p> + +<p> +The excellence of the Sierra evergreens is well known to nurserymen throughout +the world, consequently there is considerable demand for the seeds. The greater +portion of the supply has hitherto been procured by chopping down the trees in +the more accessible sections of the forest alongside of bridle-paths that cross +the range. Sequoia seeds at first brought from twenty to thirty dollars per +pound, and therefore were eagerly sought after. Some of the smaller fruitful +trees were cut down in the groves not protected by government, especially those +of Fresno and King’s River. Most of the Sequoias, however, are of so +gigantic a size that the seedsmen have to look for the greater portion of their +supplies to the Douglas, who soon learns he is no match for these freebooters. +He is wise enough, however, to cease working the instant he perceives them, and +never fails to embrace every opportunity to recover his burs whenever they +happen to be stored in any place accessible to him, and the busy seedsman often +finds on returning to camp that the little Douglas has exhaustively spoiled the +spoiler. I know one seed-gatherer who, whenever he robs the squirrels, scatters +wheat or barley beneath the trees as conscience-money. +</p> + +<p> +The want of appreciable life remarked by so many travelers in the Sierra +forests is never felt at this time of year. Banish all the humming insects and +the birds and quadrupeds, leaving only Sir Douglas, and the most solitary of +our so-called solitudes would still throb with ardent life. But if you should +go impatiently even into the most populous of the groves on purpose to meet +him, and walk about looking up among the branches, you would see very little of +him. But lie down at the foot of one of the trees and straightway he will come. +For, in the midst of the ordinary forest sounds, the falling of burs, piping of +quails, the screaming of the Clark Crow, and the rustling of deer and bears +among the chaparral, he is quick to detect your strange footsteps, and will +hasten to make a good, close inspection of you as soon as you are still. First, +you may hear him sounding a few notes of curious inquiry, but more likely the +first intimation of his approach will be the prickly sounds of his feet as he +descends the tree overhead, just before he makes his savage onrush to frighten +you and proclaim your presence to every squirrel and bird in the neighborhood. +If you remain perfectly motionless, he will come nearer and nearer, and +probably set your flesh a-tingle by frisking across your body. Once, while I +was seated at the foot of a Hemlock Spruce in one of the most inaccessible of +the San Joaquin yosemites engaged in sketching, a reckless fellow came up +behind me, passed under my bended arm, and jumped on my paper. And one warm +afternoon, while an old friend of mine was reading out in the shade of his +cabin, one of his Douglas neighbors jumped from the gable upon his head, and +then with admirable assurance ran down over his shoulder and on to the book he +held in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +Our Douglas enjoys a large social circle; for, besides his numerous relatives, +<i>Sciurus fossor, Tamias quadrivitatus, T. Townsendii, Spermophilus Beccheyi, +S. Douglasii</i>, he maintains intimate relations with the nut-eating birds, +particularly the Clark Crow (<i>Picicorvus columbianus</i>) and the numerous +woodpeckers and jays. The two spermophiles are astonishingly abundant in the +lowlands and lower foot-hills, but more and more sparingly distributed up +through the Douglas domains,—seldom venturing higher than six or seven +thousand feet above the level of the sea. The gray sciurus ranges but little +higher than this. The little striped tamias alone is associated with him +everywhere. In the lower and middle zones, where they all meet, they are +tolerably harmonious—a happy family, though very amusing skirmishes may +occasionally be witnessed. Wherever the ancient glaciers have spread forest +soil there you find our wee hero, most abundant where depth of soil and genial +climate have given rise to a corresponding luxuriance in the trees, but +following every kind of growth up the curving moraines to the highest glacial +fountains. +</p> + +<p> +Though I cannot of course expect all my readers to sympathize fully in my +admiration of this little animal, few, I hope, will think this sketch of his +life too long. I cannot begin to tell here how much he has cheered my lonely +wanderings during all the years I have been pursuing my studies in these +glorious wilds; or how much unmistakable humanity I have found in him. Take +this for example: One calm, creamy Indian summer morning, when the nuts were +ripe, I was camped in the upper pine-woods of the south fork of the San +Joaquin, where the squirrels seemed to be about as plentiful as the ripe burs. +They were taking an early breakfast before going to their regular harvest-work. +While I was busy with my own breakfast I heard the thudding fall of two or +three heavy cones from a Yellow Pine near me. I stole noiselessly forward +within about twenty feet of the base of it to observe. In a few moments down +came the Douglas. The breakfast-burs he had cut off had rolled on the gently +sloping ground into a clump of ceanothus bushes, but he seemed to know exactly +where they were, for he found them at once, apparently without searching for +them. They were more than twice as heavy as himself, but after turning them +into the right position for getting a good hold with his long sickle-teeth he +managed to drag them up to the foot of the tree from which he had cut them, +moving backward. Then seating himself comfortably, he held them on end, bottom +up, and demolished them at his ease. A good deal of nibbling had to be done +before he got anything to eat, because the lower scales are barren, but when he +had patiently worked his way up to the fertile ones he found two sweet nuts at +the base of each, shaped like trimmed hams, and spotted purple like +birds’ eggs. And notwithstanding these cones were dripping with soft +balsam, and covered with prickles, and so strongly put together that a boy +would be puzzled to cut them open with a jack-knife, he accomplished his meal +with easy dignity and cleanliness, making less effort apparently than a man +would in eating soft cookery from a plate. +</p> + +<p> +Breakfast done, I whistled a tune for him before he went to work, curious to +see how he would be affected by it. He had not seen me all this while; but the +instant I began to whistle he darted up the tree nearest to him, and came out +on a small dead limb opposite me, and composed himself to listen. I sang and +whistled more than a dozen airs, and as the music changed his eyes sparkled, +and he turned his head quickly from side to side, but made no other response. +Other squirrels, hearing the strange sounds, came around on all sides, also +chipmunks and birds. One of the birds, a handsome, speckle-breasted thrush, +seemed even more interested than the squirrels. After listening for awhile on +one of the lower dead sprays of a pine, he came swooping forward within a few +feet of my face, and remained fluttering in the air for half a minute or so, +sustaining himself with whirring wing-beats, like a humming-bird in front of a +flower, while I could look into his eyes and see his innocent wonder. +</p> + +<p> +By this time my performance must have lasted nearly half an hour. I sang or +whistled “Bonnie Boon,” “Lass o’ Gowrie,” +“O’er the Water to Charlie,” “Bonnie Woods o’ +Cragie Lee,” etc., all of which seemed to be listened to with bright +interest, my first Douglas sitting patiently through it all, with his telling +eyes fixed upon me until I ventured to give the “Old Hundredth,” +when he screamed his Indian name, Pillillooeet, turned tail, and darted with +ludicrous haste up the tree out of sight, his voice and actions in the case +leaving a somewhat profane impression, as if he had said, “I’ll be +hanged if you get me to hear anything so solemn and unpiny.” This acted +as a signal for the general dispersal of the whole hairy tribe, though the +birds seemed willing to wait further developments, music being naturally more +in their line. +</p> + +<p> +What there can be in that grand old church-tune that is so offensive to birds +and squirrels I can’t imagine. A year or two after this High Sierra +concert, I was sitting one fine day on a hill in the Coast Range where the +common Ground Squirrels were abundant. They were very shy on account of being +hunted so much; but after I had been silent and motionless for half an hour or +so they began to venture out of their holes and to feed on the seeds of the +grasses and thistles around me as if I were no more to be feared than a +tree-stump. Then it occurred to me that this was a good opportunity to find out +whether they also disliked “Old Hundredth.” Therefore I began to +whistle as nearly as I could remember the same familiar airs that had pleased +the mountaineers of the Sierra. They at once stopped eating, stood erect, and +listened patiently until I came to “Old Hundredth,” when with +ludicrous haste every one of them rushed to their holes and bolted in, their +feet twinkling in the air for a moment as they vanished. +</p> + +<p> +No one who makes the acquaintance of our forester will fail to admire him; but +he is far too self-reliant and warlike ever to be taken for a darling. +</p> + +<p> +How long the life of a Douglas Squirrel may be, I don’t know. The young +seem to sprout from knot-holes, perfect from the first, and as enduring as +their own trees. It is difficult, indeed, to realize that so condensed a piece +of sun-fire should ever become dim or die at all. He is seldom killed by +hunters, for he is too small to encourage much of their attention, and when +pursued in settled regions becomes excessively shy, and keeps close in the +furrows of the highest trunks, many of which are of the same color as himself. +Indian boys, however, lie in wait with unbounded patience to shoot them with +arrows. In the lower and middle zones a few fall a prey to rattlesnakes. +Occasionally he is pursued by hawks and wildcats, etc. But, upon the whole, he +dwells safely in the deep bosom of the woods, the most highly favored of all +his happy tribe. May his tribe increase! +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus46"></a> +<img src="images/img46.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="TRYING THE BOW" /> +<p class="caption">TRYING THE BOW.</p> +</div> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X<br/> +A WIND-STORM IN THE FORESTS</h2> + +<p> +The mountain winds, like the dew and rain, sunshine and snow, are measured and +bestowed with love on the forests to develop their strength and beauty. However +restricted the scope of other forest influences, that of the winds is +universal. The snow bends and trims the upper forests every winter, the +lightning strikes a single tree here and there, while avalanches mow down +thousands at a swoop as a gardener trims out a bed of flowers. But the winds go +to every tree, fingering every leaf and branch and furrowed bole; not one is +forgotten; the Mountain Pine towering with outstretched arms on the rugged +buttresses of the icy peaks, the lowliest and most retiring tenant of the +dells; they seek and find them all, caressing them tenderly, bending them in +lusty exercise, stimulating their growth, plucking off a leaf or limb as +required, or removing an entire tree or grove, now whispering and cooing +through the branches like a sleepy child, now roaring like the ocean; the winds +blessing the forests, the forests the winds, with ineffable beauty and harmony +as the sure result. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus47"></a> +<img src="images/img47.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A WIND-STORM IN THE +CALIFORNIA FORESTS. (AFTER A SKETCH BY THE AUTHOR.)" /> +<p class="caption">A WIND-STORM IN THE CALIFORNIA FORESTS. (AFTER A SKETCH BY THE AUTHOR.)</p> +</div> + +<p> +After one has seen pines six feet in diameter bending like grasses before a +mountain gale, and ever and anon some giant falling with a crash that shakes +the hills, it seems astonishing that any, save the lowest thickset trees, could +ever have found a period sufficiently stormless to establish themselves; or, +once established, that they should not, sooner or later, have been blown down. +But when the storm is over, and we behold the same forests tranquil again, +towering fresh and unscathed in erect majesty, and consider what centuries of +storms have fallen upon them since they were first planted,—hail, to +break the tender seedlings; lightning, to scorch and shatter; snow, winds, and +avalanches, to crush and overwhelm,—while the manifest result of all this +wild storm-culture is the glorious perfection we behold; then faith in +Nature’s forestry is established, and we cease to deplore the violence of +her most destructive gales, or of any other storm-implement whatsoever. +</p> + +<p> +There are two trees in the Sierra forests that are never blown down, so long as +they continue in sound health. These are the Juniper and the Dwarf Pine of the +summit peaks. Their stiff, crooked roots grip the storm-beaten ledges like +eagles’ claws, while their lithe, cord-like branches bend round +compliantly, offering but slight holds for winds, however violent. The other +alpine conifers—the Needle Pine, Mountain Pine, Two-leaved Pine, and +Hemlock Spruce—are never thinned out by this agent to any destructive +extent, on account of their admirable toughness and the closeness of their +growth. In general the same is true of the giants of the lower zones. The +kingly Sugar Pine, towering aloft to a height of more than 200 feet, offers a +fine mark to storm-winds; but it is not densely foliaged, and its long, +horizontal arms swing round compliantly in the blast, like tresses of green, +fluent algae in a brook; while the Silver Firs in most places keep their ranks +well together in united strength. The Yellow or Silver Pine is more frequently +overturned than any other tree on the Sierra, because its leaves and branches +form a larger mass in proportion to its height, while in many places it is +planted sparsely, leaving open lanes through which storms may enter with full +force. Furthermore, because it is distributed along the lower portion of the +range, which was the first to be left bare on the breaking up of the ice-sheet +at the close of the glacial winter, the soil it is growing upon has been longer +exposed to post-glacial weathering, and consequently is in a more crumbling, +decayed condition than the fresher soils farther up the range, and therefore +offers a less secure anchorage for the roots. +</p> + +<p> +While exploring the forest zones of Mount Shasta, I discovered the path of a +hurricane strewn with thousands of pines of this species. Great and small had +been uprooted or wrenched off by sheer force, making a clean gap, like that +made by a snow avalanche. But hurricanes capable of doing this class of work +are rare in the Sierra, and when we have explored the forests from one +extremity of the range to the other, we are compelled to believe that they are +the most beautiful on the face of the earth, however we may regard the agents +that have made them so. +</p> + +<p> +There is always something deeply exciting, not only in the sounds of winds in +the woods, which exert more or less influence over every mind, but in their +varied waterlike flow as manifested by the movements of the trees, especially +those of the conifers. By no other trees are they rendered so extensively and +impressively visible, not even by the lordly tropic palms or tree-ferns +responsive to the gentlest breeze. The waving of a forest of the giant Sequoias +is indescribably impressive and sublime, but the pines seem to me the best +interpreters of winds. They are mighty waving goldenrods, ever in tune, singing +and writing wind-music all their long century lives. Little, however, of this +noble tree-waving and tree-music will you see or hear in the strictly alpine +portion of the forests. The burly Juniper, whose girth sometimes more than +equals its height, is about as rigid as the rocks on which it grows. The +slender lash-like sprays of the Dwarf Pine stream out in wavering ripples, but +the tallest and slenderest are far too unyielding to wave even in the heaviest +gales. They only shake in quick, short vibrations. The Hemlock Spruce, however, +and the Mountain Pine, and some of the tallest thickets of the Two-leaved +species bow in storms with considerable scope and gracefulness. But it is only +in the lower and middle zones that the meeting of winds and woods is to be seen +in all its grandeur. +</p> + +<p> +One of the most beautiful and exhilarating storms I ever enjoyed in the Sierra +occurred in December, 1874, when I happened to be exploring one of the +tributary valleys of the Yuba River. The sky and the ground and the trees had +been thoroughly rain-washed and were dry again. The day was intensely pure, one +of those incomparable bits of California winter, warm and balmy and full of +white sparkling sunshine, redolent of all the purest influences of the spring, +and at the same time enlivened with one of the most bracing wind-storms +conceivable. Instead of camping out, as I usually do, I then chanced to be +stopping at the house of a friend. But when the storm began to sound, I lost no +time in pushing out into the woods to enjoy it. For on such occasions Nature +has always something rare to show us, and the danger to life and limb is hardly +greater than one would experience crouching deprecatingly beneath a roof. +</p> + +<p> +It was still early morning when I found myself fairly adrift. Delicious +sunshine came pouring over the hills, lighting the tops of the pines, and +setting free a steam of summery fragrance that contrasted strangely with the +wild tones of the storm. The air was mottled with pine-tassels and bright green +plumes, that went flashing past in the sunlight like birds pursued. But there +was not the slightest dustiness, nothing less pure than leaves, and ripe +pollen, and flecks of withered bracken and moss. I heard trees falling for +hours at the rate of one every two or three minutes; some uprooted, partly on +account of the loose, water-soaked condition of the ground; others broken +straight across, where some weakness caused by fire had determined the spot. +The gestures of the various trees made a delightful study. Young Sugar Pines, +light and feathery as squirrel-tails, were bowing almost to the ground; while +the grand old patriarchs, whose massive boles had been tried in a hundred +storms, waved solemnly above them, their long, arching branches streaming +fluently on the gale, and every needle thrilling and ringing and shedding off +keen lances of light like a diamond. The Douglas Spruces, with long sprays +drawn out in level tresses, and needles massed in a gray, shimmering glow, +presented a most striking appearance as they stood in bold relief along the +hilltops. The madroños in the dells, with their red bark and large glossy +leaves tilted every way, reflected the sunshine in throbbing spangles like +those one so often sees on the rippled surface of a glacier lake. But the +Silver Pines were now the most impressively beautiful of all. Colossal spires +200 feet in height waved like supple golden-rods chanting and bowing low as if +in worship, while the whole mass of their long, tremulous foliage was kindled +into one continuous blaze of white sun-fire. The force of the gale was such +that the most steadfast monarch of them all rocked down to its roots with a +motion plainly perceptible when one leaned against it. Nature was holding high +festival, and every fiber of the most rigid giants thrilled with glad +excitement. +</p> + +<p> +I drifted on through the midst of this passionate music and motion, across many +a glen, from ridge to ridge; often halting in the lee of a rock for shelter, or +to gaze and listen. Even when the grand anthem had swelled to its highest +pitch, I could distinctly hear the varying tones of individual +trees,—Spruce, and Fir, and Pine, and leafless Oak,—and even the +infinitely gentle rustle of the withered grasses at my feet. Each was +expressing itself in its own way,—singing its own song, and making its +own peculiar gestures,—manifesting a richness of variety to be found in +no other forest I have yet seen. The coniferous woods of Canada, and the +Carolinas, and Florida, are made up of trees that resemble one another about as +nearly as blades of grass, and grow close together in much the same way. +Coniferous trees, in general, seldom possess individual character, such as is +manifest among Oaks and Elms. But the California forests are made up of a +greater number of distinct species than any other in the world. And in them we +find, not only a marked differentiation into special groups, but also a marked +individuality in almost every tree, giving rise to storm effects indescribably +glorious. +</p> + +<p> +Toward midday, after a long, tingling scramble through copses of hazel and +ceanothus, I gained the summit of the highest ridge in the neighborhood; and +then it occurred to me that it would be a fine thing to climb one of the trees +to obtain a wider outlook and get my ear close to the Aeolian music of its +topmost needles. But under the circumstances the choice of a tree was a serious +matter. One whose instep was not very strong seemed in danger of being blown +down, or of being struck by others in case they should fall; another was +branchless to a considerable height above the ground, and at the same time too +large to be grasped with arms and legs in climbing; while others were not +favorably situated for clear views. After cautiously casting about, I made +choice of the tallest of a group of Douglas Spruces that were growing close +together like a tuft of grass, no one of which seemed likely to fall unless all +the rest fell with it. Though comparatively young, they were about 100 feet +high, and their lithe, brushy tops were rocking and swirling in wild ecstasy. +Being accustomed to climb trees in making botanical studies, I experienced no +difficulty in reaching the top of this one, and never before did I enjoy so +noble an exhilaration of motion. The slender tops fairly flapped and swished in +the passionate torrent, bending and swirling backward and forward, round and +round, tracing indescribable combinations of vertical and horizontal curves, +while I clung with muscles firm braced, like a bobolink on a reed. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus48"></a> +<img src="images/img48.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="YELLOW PINE AND LIBOCEDRUS" /> +<p class="caption">YELLOW PINE AND LIBOCEDRUS<br/> +The two inside trees are Libocedrus, the two outside trees, Yellow Pine.</p> +</div> + +<p> +In its widest sweeps my tree-top described an arc of from twenty to thirty +degrees, but I felt sure of its elastic temper, having seen others of the same +species still more severely tried—bent almost to the ground indeed, in +heavy snows—without breaking a fiber. I was therefore safe, and free to +take the wind into my pulses and enjoy the excited forest from my superb +outlook. The view from here must be extremely beautiful in any weather. Now my +eye roved over the piny hills and dales as over fields of waving grain, and +felt the light running in ripples and broad swelling undulations across the +valleys from ridge to ridge, as the shining foliage was stirred by +corresponding waves of air. Oftentimes these waves of reflected light would +break up suddenly into a kind of beaten foam, and again, after chasing one +another in regular order, they would seem to bend forward in concentric curves, +and disappear on some hillside, like sea-waves on a shelving shore. The +quantity of light reflected from the bent needles was so great as to make whole +groves appear as if covered with snow, while the black shadows beneath the +trees greatly enhanced the effect of the silvery splendor. +</p> + +<p> +Excepting only the shadows there was nothing somber in all this wild sea of +pines. On the contrary, notwithstanding this was the winter season, the colors +were remarkably beautiful. The shafts of the pine and libocedrus were brown and +purple, and most of the foliage was well tinged with yellow; the laurel groves, +with the pale undersides of their leaves turned upward, made masses of gray; +and then there was many a dash of chocolate color from clumps of manzanita, and +jet of vivid crimson from the bark of the madroños, while the ground on the +hillsides, appearing here and there through openings between the groves, +displayed masses of pale purple and brown. +</p> + +<p> +The sounds of the storm corresponded gloriously with this wild exuberance of +light and motion. The profound bass of the naked branches and boles booming +like waterfalls; the quick, tense vibrations of the pine-needles, now rising to +a shrill, whistling hiss, now falling to a silky murmur; the rustling of laurel +groves in the dells, and the keen metallic click of leaf on leaf—all this +was heard in easy analysis when the attention was calmly bent. +</p> + +<p> +The varied gestures of the multitude were seen to fine advantage, so that one +could recognize the different species at a distance of several miles by this +means alone, as well as by their forms and colors, and the way they reflected +the light. All seemed strong and comfortable, as if really enjoying the storm, +while responding to its most enthusiastic greetings. We hear much nowadays +concerning the universal struggle for existence, but no struggle in the common +meaning of the word was manifest here; no recognition of danger by any tree; no +deprecation; but rather an invincible gladness as remote from exultation as +from fear. +</p> + +<p> +I kept my lofty perch for hours, frequently closing my eyes to enjoy the music +by itself, or to feast quietly on the delicious fragrance that was streaming +past. The fragrance of the woods was less marked than that produced during warm +rain, when so many balsamic buds and leaves are steeped like tea; but, from the +chafing of resiny branches against each other, and the incessant attrition of +myriads of needles, the gale was spiced to a very tonic degree. And besides the +fragrance from these local sources there were traces of scents brought from +afar. For this wind came first from the sea, rubbing against its fresh, briny +waves, then distilled through the redwoods, threading rich ferny gulches, and +spreading itself in broad undulating currents over many a flower-enameled ridge +of the coast mountains, then across the golden plains, up the purple +foot-hills, and into these piny woods with the varied incense gathered by the +way. +</p> + +<p> +Winds are advertisements of all they touch, however much or little we may be +able to read them; telling their wanderings even by their scents alone. +Mariners detect the flowery perfume of land-winds far at sea, and sea-winds +carry the fragrance of dulse and tangle far inland, where it is quickly +recognized, though mingled with the scents of a thousand land-flowers. As an +illustration of this, I may tell here that I breathed sea-air on the Firth of +Forth, in Scotland, while a boy; then was taken to Wisconsin, where I remained +nineteen years; then, without in all this time having breathed one breath of +the sea, I walked quietly, alone, from the middle of the Mississippi Valley to +the Gulf of Mexico, on a botanical excursion, and while in Florida, far from +the coast, my attention wholly bent on the splendid tropical vegetation about +me, I suddenly recognized a sea-breeze, as it came sifting through the +palmettos and blooming vine-tangles, which at once awakened and set free a +thousand dormant associations, and made me a boy again in Scotland, as if all +the intervening years had been annihilated. +</p> + +<p> +Most people like to look at mountain rivers, and bear them in mind; but few +care to look at the winds, though far more beautiful and sublime, and though +they become at times about as visible as flowing water. When the north winds in +winter are making upward sweeps over the curving summits of the High Sierra, +the fact is sometimes published with flying snow-banners a mile long. Those +portions of the winds thus embodied can scarce be wholly invisible, even to the +darkest imagination. And when we look around over an agitated forest, we may +see something of the wind that stirs it, by its effects upon the trees. Yonder +it descends in a rush of water-like ripples, and sweeps over the bending pines +from hill to hill. Nearer, we see detached plumes and leaves, now speeding by +on level currents, now whirling in eddies, or, escaping over the edges of the +whirls, soaring aloft on grand, upswelling domes of air, or tossing on +flame-like crests. Smooth, deep currents, cascades, falls, and swirling eddies, +sing around every tree and leaf, and over all the varied topography of the +region with telling changes of form, like mountain rivers conforming to the +features of their channels. +</p> + +<p> +After tracing the Sierra streams from their fountains to the plains, marking +where they bloom white in falls, glide in crystal plumes, surge gray and +foam-filled in boulder-choked gorges, and slip through the woods in long, +tranquil reaches—after thus learning their language and forms in detail, +we may at length hear them chanting all together in one grand anthem, and +comprehend them all in clear inner vision, covering the range like lace. But +even this spectacle is far less sublime and not a whit more substantial than +what we may behold of these storm-streams of air in the mountain woods. +</p> + +<p> +We all travel the milky way together, trees and men; but it never occurred to +me until this storm-day, while swinging in the wind, that trees are travelers, +in the ordinary sense. They make many journeys, not extensive ones, it is true; +but our own little journeys, away and back again, are only little more than +tree-wavings—many of them not so much. +</p> + +<p> +When the storm began to abate, I dismounted and sauntered down through the +calming woods. The storm-tones died away, and, turning toward the east, I +beheld the countless hosts of the forests hushed and tranquil, towering above +one another on the slopes of the hills like a devout audience. The setting sun +filled them with amber light, and seemed to say, while they listened, “My +peace I give unto you.” +</p> + +<p> +As I gazed on the impressive scene, all the so-called ruin of the storm was +forgotten, and never before did these noble woods appear so fresh, so joyous, +so immortal. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI<br/> +THE RIVER FLOODS</h2> + +<p> +The Sierra rivers are flooded every spring by the melting of the snow as +regularly as the famous old Nile. They begin to rise in May, and in June +high-water mark is reached. But because the melting does not go on rapidly over +all the fountains, high and low, simultaneously, and the melted snow is not +reinforced at this time of year by rain, the spring floods are seldom very +violent or destructive. The thousand falls, however, and the cascades in the +cañons are then in full bloom, and sing songs from one end of the range to the +other. Of course the snow on the lower tributaries of the rivers is first +melted, then that on the higher fountains most exposed to sunshine, and about a +month later the cooler, shadowy fountains send down their treasures, thus +allowing the main trunk streams nearly six weeks to get their waters hurried +through the foot-hills and across the lowlands to the sea. Therefore very +violent spring floods are avoided, and will be as long as the shading, +restraining forests last. The rivers of the north half of the range are still +less subject to sudden floods, because their upper fountains in great part lie +protected from the changes of the weather beneath thick folds of lava, just as +many of the rivers of Alaska lie beneath folds of ice, coming to the light +farther down the range in large springs, while those of the high Sierra lie on +the surface of solid granite, exposed to every change of temperature. More than +ninety per cent. of the water derived from the snow and ice of Mount Shasta is +at once absorbed and drained away beneath the porous lava folds of the +mountain, where mumbling and groping in the dark they at length find larger +fissures and tunnel-like caves from which they emerge, filtered and cool, in +the form of large springs, some of them so large they give birth to rivers that +set out on their journeys beneath the sun without any visible intermediate +period of childhood. Thus the Shasta River issues from a large lake-like spring +in Shasta Valley, and about two thirds of the volume of the McCloud River +gushes forth suddenly from the face of a lava bluff in a roaring spring +seventy-five yards wide. +</p> + +<p> +These spring rivers of the north are of course shorter than those of the south +whose tributaries extend up to the tops of the mountains. Fall River, an +important tributary of the Pitt or Upper Sacramento, is only about ten miles +long, and is all falls, cascades, and springs from its head to its confluence +with the Pitt. Bountiful springs, charmingly embowered, issue from the rocks at +one end of it, a snowy fall a hundred and eighty feet high thunders at the +other, and a rush of crystal rapids sing and dance between. Of course such +streams are but little affected by the weather. Sheltered from evaporation +their flow is nearly as full in the autumn as in the time of general spring +floods. While those of the high Sierra diminish to less than the hundredth part +of their springtime prime, shallowing in autumn to a series of silent pools +among the rocks and hollows of their channels, connected by feeble, creeping +threads of water, like the sluggish sentences of a tired writer, connected by a +drizzle of “ands” and “buts.” Strange to say, the +greatest floods occur in winter, when one would suppose all the wild waters +would be muffled and chained in frost and snow. The same long, all-day storms +of the so-called Rainy Season in California, that give rain to the lowlands, +give dry frosty snow to the mountains. But at rare intervals warm rains and +warm winds invade the mountains and push back the snow line from 2000 feet to +8000, or even higher, and then come the big floods. +</p> + +<p> +I was usually driven down out of the High Sierra about the end of November, but +the winter of 1874 and 1875 was so warm and calm that I was tempted to seek +general views of the geology and topography of the basin of Feather River in +January. And I had just completed a hasty survey of the region, and made my way +down to winter quarters, when one of the grandest flood-storms that I ever saw +broke on the mountains. I was then in the edge of the main forest belt at a +small foot-hill town called Knoxville, on the divide between the waters of the +Feather and Yuba rivers. The cause of this notable flood was simply a sudden +and copious fall of warm wind and rain on the basins of these rivers at a time +when they contained a considerable quantity of snow. The rain was so heavy and +long-sustained that it was, of itself, sufficient to make a good wild flood, +while the snow which the warm wind and rain melted on the upper and middle +regions of the basins was sufficient to make another flood equal to that of the +rain. Now these two distinct harvests of flood waters were gathered +simultaneously and poured out on the plain in one magnificent avalanche. The +basins of the Yuba and Feather, like many others of the Sierra, are admirably +adapted to the growth of floods of this kind. Their many tributaries radiate +far and wide, comprehending extensive areas, and the tributaries are steeply +inclined, while the trunks are comparatively level. While the flood-storm was +in progress the thermometer at Knoxville ranged between 44° and 50°; and when +warm wind and warm rain fall simultaneously on snow contained in basins like +these, both the rain and that portion of the snow which the rain and wind melt +are at first sponged up and held back until the combined mass becomes sludge, +which at length, suddenly dissolving, slips and descends all together to the +trunk channel; and since the deeper the stream the faster it flows, the flooded +portion of the current above overtakes the slower foot-hill portion below it, +and all sweeping forward together with a high, overcurling front, debouches on +the open plain with a violence and suddenness that at first seem wholly +unaccountable. The destructiveness of the lower portion of this particular +flood was somewhat augmented by mining gravel in the river channels, and by +levees which gave way after having at first restrained and held back the +accumulating waters. These exaggerating conditions did not, however, greatly +influence the general result, the main effect having been caused by the rare +combination of flood factors indicated above. It is a pity that but few people +meet and enjoy storms so noble as this in their homes in the mountains, for, +spending themselves in the open levels of the plains, they are likely to be +remembered more by the bridges and houses they carry away than by their beauty +or the thousand blessings they bring to the fields and gardens of Nature. +</p> + +<p> +On the morning of the flood, January 19th, all the Feather and Yuba landscapes +were covered with running water, muddy torrents filled every gulch and ravine, +and the sky was thick with rain. The pines had long been sleeping in sunshine; +they were now awake, roaring and waving with the beating storm, and the winds +sweeping along the curves of hill and dale, streaming through the woods, +surging and gurgling on the tops of rocky ridges, made the wildest of wild +storm melody. +</p> + +<p> +It was easy to see that only a small part of the rain reached the ground in the +form of drops. Most of it was thrashed into dusty spray like that into which +small waterfalls are divided when they dash on shelving rocks. Never have I +seen water coming from the sky in denser or more passionate streams. The wind +chased the spray forward in choking drifts, and compelled me again and again to +seek shelter in the dell copses and back of large trees to rest and catch my +breath. Wherever I went, on ridges or in hollows, enthusiastic water still +flashed and gurgled about my ankles, recalling a wild winter flood in Yosemite +when a hundred waterfalls came booming and chanting together and filled the +grand valley with a sea-like roar. +</p> + +<p> +After drifting an hour or two in the lower woods, I set out for the summit of a +hill 900 feet high, with a view to getting as near the heart of the storm as +possible. In order to reach it I had to cross Dry Creek, a tributary of the +Yuba that goes crawling along the base of the hill on the northwest. It was now +a booming river as large as the Tuolumne at ordinary stages, its current brown +with mining-mud washed down from many a “claim,” and mottled with +sluice-boxes, fence-rails, and logs that had long lain above its reach. A slim +foot-bridge stretched across it, now scarcely above the swollen current. Here I +was glad to linger, gazing and listening, while the storm was in its richest +mood—the gray rain-flood above, the brown river-flood beneath. The +language of the river was scarcely less enchanting than that of the wind and +rain; the sublime overboom of the main bouncing, exulting current, the swash +and gurgle of the eddies, the keen dash and clash of heavy waves breaking +against rocks, and the smooth, downy hush of shallow currents feeling their way +through the willow thickets of the margin. And amid all this varied throng of +sounds I heard the smothered bumping and rumbling of boulders on the bottom as +they were shoving and rolling forward against one another in a wild rush, after +having lain still for probably 100 years or more. +</p> + +<p> +The glad creek rose high above its banks and wandered from its channel out over +many a briery sand-flat and meadow. Alders and willows waist-deep were bearing +up against the current with nervous trembling gestures, as if afraid of being +carried away, while supple branches bending confidingly, dipped lightly and +rose again, as if stroking the wild waters in play. Leaving the bridge and +passing on through the storm-thrashed woods, all the ground seemed to be +moving. Pine-tassels, flakes of bark, soil, leaves, and broken branches were +being swept forward, and many a rock-fragment, weathered from exposed ledges, +was now receiving its first rounding and polishing in the wild streams of the +storm. On they rushed through every gulch and hollow, leaping, gliding, working +with a will, and rejoicing like living creatures. +</p> + +<p> +Nor was the flood confined to the ground. Every tree had a water system of its +own spreading far and wide like miniature Amazons and Mississippis. +</p> + +<p> +Toward midday, cloud, wind, and rain reached their highest development. The +storm was in full bloom, and formed, from my commanding outlook on the hilltop, +one of the most glorious views I ever beheld. As far as the eye could reach, +above, beneath, around, wind-driven rain filled the air like one vast +waterfall. Detached clouds swept imposingly up the valley, as if they were +endowed with independent motion and had special work to do in replenishing the +mountain wells, now rising above the pine-tops, now descending into their +midst, fondling their arrowy spires and soothing every branch and leaf with +gentleness in the midst of all the savage sound and motion. Others keeping near +the ground glided behind separate groves, and brought them forward into relief +with admirable distinctness; or, passing in front, eclipsed whole groves in +succession, pine after pine melting in their gray fringes and bursting forth +again seemingly clearer than before. +</p> + +<p> +The forms of storms are in great part measured, and controlled by the +topography of the regions where they rise and over which they pass. When, +therefore, we attempt to study them from the valleys, or from gaps and openings +of the forest, we are confounded by a multitude of separate and apparently +antagonistic impressions. The bottom of the storm is broken up into innumerable +waves and currents that surge against the hillsides like sea-waves against a +shore, and these, reacting on the nether surface of the storm, erode immense +cavernous hollows and cañons, and sweep forward the resulting detritus in long +trains, like the moraines of glaciers. But, as we ascend, these partial, +confusing effects disappear and the phenomena are beheld united and harmonious. +</p> + +<p> +The longer I gazed into the storm, the more plainly visible it became. The +drifting cloud detritus gave it a kind of visible body, which explained many +perplexing phenomena, and published its movements in plain terms, while the +texture of the falling mass of rain rounded it out and rendered it more +complete. Because raindrops differ in size they fall at different velocities +and overtake and clash against one another, producing mist and spray. They +also, of course, yield unequal compliance to the force of the wind, which gives +rise to a still greater degree of interference, and passionate gusts sweep off +clouds of spray from the groves like that torn from wave-tops in a gale. All +these factors of irregularity in density, color, and texture of the general +rain mass tend to make it the more appreciable and telling. It is then seen as +one grand flood rushing over bank and brae, bending the pines like weeds, +curving this way and that, whirling in huge eddies in hollows and dells, while +the main current pours grandly over all, like ocean currents over the +landscapes that lie hidden at the bottom of the sea. +</p> + +<p> +I watched the gestures of the pines while the storm was at its height, and it +was easy to see that they were not distressed. Several large Sugar Pines stood +near the thicket in which I was sheltered, bowing solemnly and tossing their +long arms as if interpreting the very words of the storm while accepting its +wildest onsets with passionate exhilaration. The lions were feeding. Those who +have observed sunflowers feasting on sunshine during the golden days of Indian +summer know that none of their gestures express thankfulness. Their celestial +food is too heartily given, too heartily taken to leave room for thanks. The +pines were evidently accepting the benefactions of the storm in the same +whole-souled manner; and when I looked down among the budding hazels, and still +lower to the young violets and fern-tufts on the rocks, I noticed the same +divine methods of giving and taking, and the same exquisite adaptations of what +seems an outbreak of violent and uncontrollable force to the purposes of +beautiful and delicate life. Calms like sleep come upon landscapes, just as +they do on people and trees, and storms awaken them in the same way. In the dry +midsummer of the lower portion of the range the withered hills and valleys seem +to lie as empty and expressionless as dead shells on a shore. Even the highest +mountains may be found occasionally dull and uncommunicative as if in some way +they had lost countenance and shrunk to less than half their real stature. But +when the lightnings crash and echo in the cañons, and the clouds come down +wreathing and crowning their bald snowy heads, every feature beams with +expression and they rise again in all their imposing majesty. +</p> + +<p> +Storms are fine speakers, and tell all they know, but their voices of +lightning, torrent, and rushing wind are much less numerous than the nameless +still, small voices too low for human ears; and because we are poor listeners +we fail to catch much that is fairly within reach. Our best rains are heard +mostly on roofs, and winds in chimneys; and when by choice or compulsion we are +pushed into the heart of a storm, the confusion made by cumbersome equipments +and nervous haste and mean fear, prevent our hearing any other than the loudest +expressions. Yet we may draw enjoyment from storm sounds that are beyond +hearing, and storm movements we cannot see. The sublime whirl of planets around +their suns is as silent as raindrops oozing in the dark among the roots of +plants. In this great storm, as in every other, there were tones and gestures +inexpressibly gentle manifested in the midst of what is called violence and +fury, but easily recognized by all who look and listen for them. The rain +brought out the colors of the woods with delightful freshness, the rich brown +of the bark of the trees and the fallen burs and leaves and dead ferns; the +grays of rocks and lichens; the light purple of swelling buds, and the warm +yellow greens of the libocedrus and mosses. The air was steaming with +delightful fragrance, not rising and wafting past in separate masses, but +diffused through all the atmosphere. Pine woods are always fragrant, but most +so in spring when the young tassels are opening and in warm weather when the +various gums and balsams are softened by the sun. The wind was now chafing +their innumerable needles and the warm rain was steeping them. Monardella grows +here in large beds in the openings, and there is plenty of laurel in dells and +manzanita on the hillsides, and the rosy, fragrant chamoebatia carpets the +ground almost everywhere. These, with the gums and balsams of the woods, form +the main local fragrance-fountains of the storm. The ascending clouds of aroma +wind-rolled and rain-washed became pure like light and traveled with the wind +as part of it. Toward the middle of the afternoon the main flood cloud lifted +along its western border revealing a beautiful section of the Sacramento Valley +some twenty or thirty miles away, brilliantly sun-lighted and glistering with +rain-sheets as if paved with silver. Soon afterward a jagged bluff-like cloud +with a sheer face appeared over the valley of the Yuba, dark-colored and +roughened with numerous furrows like some huge lava-table. The blue Coast Range +was seen stretching along the sky like a beveled wall, and the somber, craggy +Marysville Buttes rose impressively out of the flooded plain like islands out +of the sea. Then the rain began to abate and I sauntered down through the +dripping bushes reveling in the universal vigor and freshness that inspired all +the life about me. How clean and unworn and immortal the woods seemed to +be!—the lofty cedars in full bloom laden with golden pollen and their +washed plumes shining; the pines rocking gently and settling back into rest, +and the evening sunbeams spangling on the broad leaves of the madroños, their +tracery of yellow boughs relieved against dusky thickets of Chestnut Oak; +liverworts, lycopodiums, ferns were exulting in glorious revival, and every +moss that had ever lived seemed to be coming crowding back from the dead to +clothe each trunk and stone in living green. The steaming ground seemed fairly +to throb and tingle with life; smilax, fritillaria, saxifrage, and young +violets were pushing up as if already conscious of the summer glory, and +innumerable green and yellow buds were peeping and smiling everywhere. +</p> + +<p> +As for the birds and squirrels, not a wing or tail of them was to be seen while +the storm was blowing. Squirrels dislike wet weather more than cats do; +therefore they were at home rocking in their dry nests. The birds were hiding +in the dells out of the wind, some of the strongest of them pecking at acorns +and manzanita berries, but most were perched on low twigs, their breast +feathers puffed out and keeping one another company through the hard time as +best they could. +</p> + +<p> +When I arrived at the village about sundown, the good people bestirred +themselves, pitying my bedraggled condition as if I were some benumbed castaway +snatched from the sea, while I, in turn, warm with excitement and reeking like +the ground, pitied them for being dry and defrauded of all the glory that +Nature had spread round about them that day. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII<br/> +SIERRA THUNDER-STORMS</h2> + +<p> +The weather of spring and summer in the middle region of the Sierra is usually +well flecked with rains and light dustings of snow, most of which are far too +obviously joyful and life-giving to be regarded as storms; and in the +picturesque beauty and clearness of outlines of their clouds they offer +striking contrasts to those boundless, all-embracing cloud-mantles of the +storms of winter. The smallest and most perfectly individualized specimens +present a richly modeled cumulous cloud rising above the dark woods, about 11 +A.M., swelling with a visible motion straight up into the calm, sunny sky to a +height of 12,000 to 14,000 feet above the sea, its white, pearly bosses +relieved by gray and pale purple shadows in the hollows, and showing outlines +as keenly defined as those of the glacier-polished domes. In less than an hour +it attains full development and stands poised in the blazing sunshine like some +colossal mountain, as beautiful in form and finish as if it were to become a +permanent addition to the landscape. Presently a thunderbolt crashes through +the crisp air, ringing like steel on steel, sharp and clear, its startling +detonation breaking into a spray of echoes against the cliffs and cañon walls. +Then down comes a cataract of rain. The big drops sift through the +pine-needles, plash and patter on the granite pavements, and pour down the +sides of ridges and domes in a network of gray, bubbling rills. In a few +minutes the cloud withers to a mesh of dim filaments and disappears, leaving +the sky perfectly clear and bright, every dust-particle wiped and washed out of +it. Everything is refreshed and invigorated, a steam of fragrance rises, and +the storm is finished—one cloud, one lightning-stroke, and one dash of +rain. This is the Sierra mid-summer thunder-storm reduced to its lowest terms. +But some of them attain much larger proportions, and assume a grandeur and +energy of expression hardly surpassed by those bred in the depths of winter, +producing those sudden floods called “cloud-bursts,” which are +local, and to a considerable extent periodical, for they appear nearly every +day about the same time for weeks, usually about eleven o’clock, and +lasting from five minutes to an hour or two. One soon becomes so accustomed to +see them that the noon sky seems empty and abandoned without them, as if Nature +were forgetting something. When the glorious pearl and alabaster clouds of +these noonday storms are being built I never give attention to anything else. +No mountain or mountain-range, however divinely clothed with light, has a more +enduring charm than those fleeting mountains of the sky—floating +fountains bearing water for every well, the angels of the streams and lakes; +brooding in the deep azure, or sweeping softly along the ground over ridge and +dome, over meadow, over forest, over garden and grove; lingering with cooling +shadows, refreshing every flower, and soothing rugged rock-brows with a +gentleness of touch and gesture wholly divine. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus49"></a> +<img src="images/img49.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="BRIDAL VEIL FALLS, +YOSEMITE VALLEY" /> +<p class="caption">BRIDAL VEIL FALLS, YOSEMITE VALLEY.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The most beautiful and imposing of the summer storms rise just above the upper +edge of the Silver Fir zone, and all are so beautiful that it is not easy to +choose any one for particular description. The one that I remember best fell on +the mountains near Yosemite Valley, July 19, 1869, while I was encamped in the +Silver Fir woods. A range of bossy cumuli took possession of the sky, huge +domes and peaks rising one beyond another with deep cañons between them, +bending this way and that in long curves and reaches, interrupted here and +there with white upboiling masses that looked like the spray of waterfalls. +Zigzag lances of lightning followed each other in quick succession, and the +thunder was so gloriously loud and massive it seemed as if surely an entire +mountain was being shattered at every stroke. Only the trees were touched, +however, so far as I could see,—a few firs 200 feet high, perhaps, and +five to six feet in diameter, were split into long rails and slivers from top +to bottom and scattered to all points of the compass. Then came the rain in a +hearty flood, covering the ground and making it shine with a continuous sheet +of water that, like a transparent film or skin, fitted closely down over all +the rugged anatomy of the landscape. +</p> + +<p> +It is not long, geologically speaking, since the first raindrop fell on the +present landscapes of the Sierra; and in the few tens of thousands of years of +stormy cultivation they have been blest with, how beautiful they have become! +The first rains fell on raw, crumbling moraines and rocks without a plant. Now +scarcely a drop can fail to find a beautiful mark: on the tops of the peaks, on +the smooth glacier pavements, on the curves of the domes, on moraines full of +crystals, on the thousand forms of yosemitic sculpture with their tender beauty +of balmy, flowery vegetation, laving, plashing, glinting, pattering; some +falling softly on meadows, creeping out of sight, seeking and finding every +thirsty rootlet, some through the spires of the woods, sifting in dust through +the needles, and whispering good cheer to each of them; some falling with blunt +tapping sounds, drumming on the broad leaves of veratrum, cypripedium, +saxifrage; some falling straight into fragrant corollas, kissing the lips of +lilies, glinting on the sides of crystals, on shining grains of gold; some +falling into the fountains of snow to swell their well-saved stores; some into +the lakes and rivers, patting the smooth glassy levels, making dimples and +bells and spray, washing the mountain windows, washing the wandering winds; +some plashing into the heart of snowy falls and cascades as if eager to join in +the dance and the song and beat the foam yet finer. Good work and happy work +for the merry mountain raindrops, each one of them a brave fall in itself, +rushing from the cliffs and hollows of the clouds into the cliffs and hollows +of the mountains; away from the thunder of the sky into the thunder of the +roaring rivers. And how far they have to go, and how many cups to +fill—cassiope-cups, holding half a drop, and lake basins between the +hills, each replenished with equal care—every drop God’s messenger +sent on its way with glorious pomp and display of power—silvery new-born +stars with lake and river, mountain and valley—all that the landscape +holds—reflected in their crystal depths. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br/> +THE WATER-OUZEL</h2> + +<p> +The waterfalls of the Sierra are frequented by only one bird,—the Ouzel +or Water Thrush (<i>Cinclus Mexicanus</i>, SW.). He is a singularly joyous and +lovable little fellow, about the size of a robin, clad in a plain waterproof +suit of bluish gray, with a tinge of chocolate on the head and shoulders. In +form he is about as smoothly plump and compact as a pebble that has been +whirled in a pot-hole, the flowing contour of his body being interrupted only +by his strong feet and bill, the crisp wing-tips, and the up-slanted wren-like +tail. Among all the countless waterfalls I have met in the course of ten +years’ exploration in the Sierra, whether among the icy peaks, or warm +foot-hills, or in the profound yosemitic cañons of the middle region, not one +was found without its Ouzel. No cañon is too cold for this little bird, none +too lonely, provided it be rich in falling water. Find a fall, or cascade, or +rushing rapid, anywhere upon a clear stream, and there you will surely find its +complementary Ouzel, flitting about in the spray, diving in foaming eddies, +whirling like a leaf among beaten foam-bells; ever vigorous and enthusiastic, +yet self-contained, and neither seeking nor shunning your company. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus50"></a> +<img src="images/img50.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="WATER-OUZEL DIVING AND FEEDING" /> +<p class="caption">WATER-OUZEL DIVING AND FEEDING.</p> +</div> + +<p> +If disturbed while dipping about in the margin shallows, he either sets off +with a rapid whir to some other feeding-ground up or down the stream, or +alights on some half-submerged rock or snag out in the current, and immediately +begins to nod and courtesy like a wren, turning his head from side to side with +many other odd dainty movements that never fail to fix the attention of the +observer. +</p> + +<p> +He is the mountain streams’ own darling, the humming-bird of blooming +waters, loving rocky ripple-slopes and sheets of foam as a bee loves flowers, +as a lark loves sunshine and meadows. Among all the mountain birds, none has +cheered me so much in my lonely wanderings,—none so unfailingly. For both +in winter and summer he sings, sweetly, cheerily, independent alike of sunshine +and of love, requiring no other inspiration than the stream on which he dwells. +While water sings, so must he, in heat or cold, calm or storm, ever attuning +his voice in sure accord; low in the drought of summer and the drought of +winter, but never silent. +</p> + +<p> +During the golden days of Indian summer, after most of the snow has been +melted, and the mountain streams have become feeble,—a succession of +silent pools, linked together by shallow, transparent currents and strips of +silvery lacework,—then the song of the Ouzel is at its lowest ebb. But as +soon as the winter clouds have bloomed, and the mountain treasuries are once +more replenished with snow, the voices of the streams and ouzels increase in +strength and richness until the flood season of early summer. Then the torrents +chant their noblest anthems, and then is the flood-time of our songster’s +melody. As for weather, dark days and sun days are the same to him. The voices +of most song-birds, however joyous, suffer a long winter eclipse; but the Ouzel +sings on through all the seasons and every kind of storm. Indeed no storm can +be more violent than those of the waterfalls in the midst of which he delights +to dwell. However dark and boisterous the weather, snowing, blowing, or cloudy, +all the same he sings, and with never a note of sadness. No need of spring +sunshine to thaw <i>his</i> song, for it never freezes. Never shall you hear +anything wintry from <i>his</i> warm breast; no pinched cheeping, no wavering +notes between sorrow and joy; his mellow, fluty voice is ever tuned to +downright gladness, as free from dejection as cock-crowing. +</p> + +<p> +It is pitiful to see wee frost-pinched sparrows on cold mornings in the +mountain groves shaking the snow from their feathers, and hopping about as if +anxious to be cheery, then hastening back to their hidings out of the wind, +puffing out their breast-feathers over their toes, and subsiding among the +leaves, cold and breakfastless, while the snow continues to fall, and there is +no sign of clearing. But the Ouzel never calls forth a single touch of pity; +not because he is strong to endure, but rather because he seems to live a +charmed life beyond the reach of every influence that makes endurance +necessary. +</p> + +<p> +One wild winter morning, when Yosemite Valley was swept its length from west to +east by a cordial snow-storm, I sallied forth to see what I might learn and +enjoy. A sort of gray, gloaming-like darkness filled the valley, the huge walls +were out of sight, all ordinary sounds were smothered, and even the loudest +booming of the falls was at times buried beneath the roar of the heavy-laden +blast. The loose snow was already over five feet deep on the meadows, making +extended walks impossible without the aid of snow-shoes. I found no great +difficulty, however, in making my way to a certain ripple on the river where +one of my ouzels lived. He was at home, busily gleaning his breakfast among the +pebbles of a shallow portion of the margin, apparently unaware of anything +extraordinary in the weather. Presently he flew out to a stone against which +the icy current was beating, and turning his back to the wind, sang as +delightfully as a lark in springtime. +</p> + +<p> +After spending an hour or two with my favorite, I made my way across the +valley, boring and wallowing through the drifts, to learn as definitely as +possible how the other birds were spending their time. The Yosemite birds are +easily found during the winter because all of them excepting the Ouzel are +restricted to the sunny north side of the valley, the south side being +constantly eclipsed by the great frosty shadow of the wall. And because the +Indian Cañon groves, from their peculiar exposure, are the warmest, the birds +congregate there, more especially in severe weather. +</p> + +<p> +I found most of the robins cowering on the lee side of the larger branches +where the snow could not fall upon them, while two or three of the more +enterprising were making desperate efforts to reach the mistletoe berries by +clinging nervously to the under side of the snow-crowned masses, back downward, +like woodpeckers. Every now and then they would dislodge some of the loose +fringes of the snow-crown, which would come sifting down on them and send them +screaming back to camp, where they would subside among their companions with a +shiver, muttering in low, querulous chatter like hungry children. +</p> + +<p> +Some of the sparrows were busy at the feet of the larger trees gleaning seeds +and benumbed insects, joined now and then by a robin weary of his unsuccessful +attempts upon the snow-covered berries. The brave woodpeckers were clinging to +the snowless sides of the larger boles and overarching branches of the camp +trees, making short nights from side to side of the grove, pecking now and then +at the acorns they had stored in the bark, and chattering aimlessly as if +unable to keep still, yet evidently putting in the time in a very dull way, +like storm-bound travelers at a country tavern. The hardy nut-hatches were +threading the open furrows of the trunks in their usual industrious manner, and +uttering their quaint notes, evidently less distressed than their neighbors. +The Steller jays were of course making more noisy stir than all the other birds +combined; ever coming and going with loud bluster, screaming as if each had a +lump of melting sludge in his throat, and taking good care to improve the +favorable opportunity afforded by the storm to steal from the acorn stores of +the woodpeckers. I also noticed one solitary gray eagle braving the storm on +the top of a tall pine-stump just outside the main grove. He was standing bolt +upright with his back to the wind, a tuft of snow piled on his square +shoulders, a monument of passive endurance. Thus every snow-bound bird seemed +more or less uncomfortable if not in positive distress. +</p> + +<p> +The storm was reflected in every gesture, and not one cheerful note, not to say +song, came from a single bill; their cowering, joyless endurance offering a +striking contrast to the spontaneous, irrepressible gladness of the Ouzel, who +could no more help exhaling sweet song than a rose sweet fragrance. He +<i>must</i> sing though the heavens fall. I remember noticing the distress of a +pair of robins during the violent earthquake of the year 1872, when the pines +of the Valley, with strange movements, flapped and waved their branches, and +beetling rock-brows came thundering down to the meadows in tremendous +avalanches. It did not occur to me in the midst of the excitement of other +observations to look for the ouzels, but I doubt not they were singing straight +on through it all, regarding the terrible rock-thunder as fearlessly as they do +the booming of the waterfalls. +</p> + +<p> +What may be regarded as the separate songs of the Ouzel are exceedingly +difficult of description, because they are so variable and at the same time so +confluent. Though I have been acquainted with my favorite ten years, and during +most of this time have heard him sing nearly every day, I still detect notes +and strains that seem new to me. Nearly all of his music is sweet and tender, +lapsing from his round breast like water over the smooth lip of a pool, then +breaking farther on into a sparkling foam of melodious notes, which, glow with +subdued enthusiasm, yet without expressing much of the strong, gushing ecstasy +of the bobolink or skylark. +</p> + +<p> +The more striking strains are perfect arabesques of melody, composed of a few +full, round, mellow notes, embroidered with delicate trills which fade and melt +in long slender cadences. In a general way his music is that of the streams +refined and spiritualized. The deep booming notes of the falls are in it, the +trills of rapids, the gurgling of margin eddies, the low whispering of level +reaches, and the sweet tinkle of separate drops oozing from the ends of mosses +and falling into tranquil pools. +</p> + +<p> +The Ouzel never sings in chorus with other birds, nor with his kind, but only +with the streams. And like flowers that bloom beneath the surface of the +ground, some of our favorite’s best song-blossoms never rise above the +surface of the heavier music of the water. I have often observed him singing in +the midst of beaten spray, his music completely buried beneath the +water’s roar; yet I knew he was surely singing by his gestures and the +movements of his bill. +</p> + +<p> +His food, as far as I have noticed, consists of all kinds of water insects, +which in summer are chiefly procured along shallow margins. Here he wades about +ducking his head under water and deftly turning over pebbles and fallen leaves +with his bill, seldom choosing to go into deep water where he has to use his +wings in diving. +</p> + +<p> +He seems to be especially fond of the larvae; of mosquitos, found in abundance +attached to the bottom of smooth rock channels where the current is shallow. +When feeding in such places he wades up-stream, and often while his head is +under water the swift current is deflected upward along the glossy curves of +his neck and shoulders, in the form of a clear, crystalline shell, which fairly +incloses him like a bell-glass, the shell being broken and re-formed as he +lifts and dips his head; while ever and anon he sidles out to where the too +powerful current carries him off his feet; then he dexterously rises on the +wing and goes gleaning again in shallower places. +</p> + +<p> +But during the winter, when the stream-banks are embossed in snow, and the +streams themselves are chilled nearly to the freezing-point, so that the snow +falling into them in stormy weather is not wholly dissolved, but forms a thin, +blue sludge, thus rendering the current opaque—then he seeks the deeper +portions of the main rivers, where he may dive to clear water beneath the +sludge. Or he repairs to some open lake or mill-pond, at the bottom of which he +feeds in safety. +</p> + +<p> +When thus compelled to betake himself to a lake, he does not plunge into it at +once like a duck, but always alights in the first place upon some rock or +fallen pine along the shore. Then flying out thirty or forty yards, more or +less, according to the character of the bottom, he alights with a dainty glint +on the surface, swims about, looks down, finally makes up his mind, and +disappears with a sharp stroke of his wings. After feeding for two or three +minutes he suddenly reappears, showers the water from his wings with one +vigorous shake, and rises abruptly into the air as if pushed up from beneath, +comes back to his perch, sings a few minutes, and goes out to dive again; thus +coming and going, singing and diving at the same place for hours. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus51"></a> +<img src="images/img51.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="ONE OF THE LATE-SUMMER FEEDING-GROUNDS OF THE OUZEL" /> +<p class="caption">ONE OF THE LATE-SUMMER FEEDING-GROUNDS OF THE OUZEL.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The Ouzel is usually found singly; rarely in pairs, excepting during the +breeding season, and <i>very</i> rarely in threes or fours. I once observed +three thus spending a winter morning in company, upon a small glacier lake, on +the Upper Merced, about 7500 feet above the level of the sea. A storm had +occurred during the night, but the morning sun shone unclouded, and the shadowy +lake, gleaming darkly in its setting of fresh snow, lay smooth and motionless +as a mirror. My camp chanced to be within a few feet of the water’s edge, +opposite a fallen pine, some of the branches of which leaned out over the lake. +Here my three dearly welcome visitors took up their station, and at once began +to embroider the frosty air with their delicious melody, doubly delightful to +me that particular morning, as I had been somewhat apprehensive of danger in +breaking my way down through the snow-choked cañons to the lowlands. +</p> + +<p> +The portion of the lake bottom selected for a feeding-ground lies at a depth of +fifteen or twenty feet below the surface, and is covered with a short growth of +algae and other aquatic plants,—facts I had previously determined while +sailing over it on a raft. After alighting on the glassy surface, they +occasionally indulged in a little play, chasing one another round about in +small circles; then all three would suddenly dive together, and then come +ashore and sing. +</p> + +<p> +The Ouzel seldom swims more than a few yards on the surface, for, not being +web-footed, he makes rather slow progress, but by means of his strong, crisp +wings he swims, or rather flies, with celerity under the surface, often to +considerable distances. But it is in withstanding the force of heavy rapids +that his strength of wing in this respect is most strikingly manifested. The +following may be regarded as a fair illustration of his power of sub-aquatic +flight. One stormy morning in winter when the Merced River was blue and green +with unmelted snow, I observed one of my ouzels perched on a snag out in the +midst of a swift-rushing rapid, singing cheerily, as if everything was just to +his mind; and while I stood on the bank admiring him, he suddenly plunged into +the sludgy current, leaving his song abruptly broken off. After feeding a +minute or two at the bottom, and when one would suppose that he must inevitably +be swept far down-stream, he emerged just where he went down, alighted on the +same snag, showered the water-beads from his feathers, and continued his +unfinished song, seemingly in tranquil ease as if it had suffered no +interruption. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> +<a name="illus52"></a> +<img src="images/img52.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="OUZEL ENTERING A WHITE CURRENT" /> +<p class="caption">OUZEL ENTERING A WHITE CURRENT.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The Ouzel alone of all birds dares to enter a white torrent. And though +strictly terrestrial in structure, no other is so inseparably related to water, +not even the duck, or the bold ocean albatross, or the stormy-petrel. For ducks +go ashore as soon as they finish feeding in undisturbed places, and very often +make long flights over land from lake to lake or field to field. The same is +true of most other aquatic birds. But the Ouzel, born on the brink of a stream, +or on a snag or boulder in the midst of it, seldom leaves it for a single +moment. For, notwithstanding he is often on the wing, he never flies overland, +but whirs with, rapid, quail-like beat above the stream, tracing all its +windings. Even when the stream is quite small, say from five to ten feet wide, +he seldom shortens his flight by crossing a bend, however abrupt it may be; and +even when disturbed by meeting some one on the bank, he prefers to fly over +one’s head, to dodging out over the ground. When, therefore, his flight +along a crooked stream is viewed endwise, it appears most strikingly +wavered—a description on the air of every curve with lightning-like +rapidity. +</p> + +<p> +The vertical curves and angles of the most precipitous torrents he traces with +the same rigid fidelity, swooping down the inclines of cascades, dropping sheer +over dizzy falls amid the spray, and ascending with the same fearlessness and +ease, seldom seeking to lessen the steepness of the acclivity by beginning to +ascend before reaching the base of the fall. No matter though it may be several +hundred feet in height he holds straight on, as if about to dash headlong into +the throng of booming rockets, then darts abruptly upward, and, after alighting +at the top of the precipice to rest a moment, proceeds to feed and sing. His +flight is solid and impetuous, without any intermission of +wing-beats,—one homogeneous buzz like that of a laden bee on its way +home. And while thus buzzing freely from fall to fall, he is frequently heard +giving utterance to a long outdrawn train of unmodulated notes, in no way +connected with his song, but corresponding closely with his flight in sustained +vigor. +</p> + +<p> +Were the flights of all the ouzels in the Sierra traced on a chart, they would +indicate the direction of the flow of the entire system of ancient glaciers, +from about the period of the breaking up of the ice-sheet until near the close +of the glacial winter; because the streams which the ouzels so rigidly follow +are, with the unimportant exceptions of a few side tributaries, all flowing in +channels eroded for them out of the solid flank of the range by the vanished +glaciers,—the streams tracing the ancient glaciers, the ouzels tracing +the streams. Nor do we find so complete compliance to glacial conditions in the +life of any other mountain bird, or animal of any kind. Bears frequently accept +the pathways laid down by glaciers as the easiest to travel; but they often +leave them and cross over from cañon to cañon. So also, most of the birds trace +the moraines to some extent, because the forests are growing on them. But they +wander far, crossing the cañons from grove to grove, and draw exceedingly +angular and complicated courses. +</p> + +<p> +The Ouzel’s nest is one of the most extraordinary pieces of bird +architecture I ever saw, odd and novel in design, perfectly fresh and +beautiful, and in every way worthy of the genius of the little builder. It is +about a foot in diameter, round and bossy in outline, with a neatly arched +opening near the bottom, somewhat like an old-fashioned brick oven, or +Hottentot’s hut. It is built almost exclusively of green and yellow +mosses, chiefly the beautiful fronded hypnum that covers the rocks and old +drift-logs in the vicinity of waterfalls. These are deftly interwoven, and +felted together into a charming little hut; and so situated that many of the +outer mosses continue to flourish as if they had not been plucked. A few fine, +silky-stemmed grasses are occasionally found interwoven with the mosses, but, +with the exception of a thin layer lining the floor, their presence seems +accidental, as they are of a species found growing with the mosses and are +probably plucked with them. The site chosen for this curious mansion is usually +some little rock-shelf within reach of the lighter particles of the spray of a +waterfall, so that its walls are kept green and growing, at least during the +time of high water. +</p> + +<p> +No harsh lines are presented by any portion of the nest as seen in place, but +when removed from its shelf, the back and bottom, and sometimes a portion of +the top, is found quite sharply angular, because it is made to conform to the +surface of the rock upon which and against which it is built, the little +architect always taking advantage of slight crevices and protuberances that may +chance to offer, to render his structure stable by means of a kind of gripping +and dovetailing. +</p> + +<p> +In choosing a building-spot, concealment does not seem to be taken into +consideration; yet notwithstanding the nest is large and guilelessly exposed to +view, it is far from being easily detected, chiefly because it swells forward +like any other bulging moss-cushion growing naturally in such situations. This +is more especially the case where the nest is kept fresh by being well +sprinkled. Sometimes these romantic little huts have their beauty enhanced by +rock-ferns and grasses that spring up around the mossy walls, or in front of +the door-sill, dripping with crystal beads. +</p> + +<p> +Furthermore, at certain hours of the day, when the sunshine is poured down at +the required angle, the whole mass of the spray enveloping the fairy +establishment is brilliantly irised; and it is through so glorious a rainbow +atmosphere as this that some of our blessed ouzels obtain their first peep at +the world. +</p> + +<p> +Ouzels seem so completely part and parcel of the streams they inhabit, they +scarce suggest any other origin than the streams themselves; and one might +almost be pardoned in fancying they come direct from the living waters, like +flowers from the ground. At least, from whatever cause, it never occurred to me +to look for their nests until more than a year after I had made the +acquaintance of the birds themselves, although I found one the very day on +which I began the search. In making my way from Yosemite to the glaciers at the +heads of the Merced and Tuolumne rivers, I camped in a particularly wild and +romantic portion of the Nevada cañon where in previous excursions I had never +failed to enjoy the company of my favorites, who were attracted here, no doubt, +by the safe nesting-places in the shelving rocks, and by the abundance of food +and falling water. The river, for miles above and below, consists of a +succession of small falls from ten to sixty feet in height, connected by flat, +plume-like cascades that go flashing from fall to fall, free and almost +channelless, over waving folds of glacier-polished granite. +</p> + +<p> +On the south side of one of the falls, that portion of the precipice which is +bathed by the spray presents a series of little shelves and tablets caused by +the development of planes of cleavage in the granite, and by the consequent +fall of masses through the action of the water. “Now here,” said I, +“of all places, is the most charming spot for an Ouzel’s +nest.” Then carefully scanning the fretted face of the precipice through +the spray, I at length noticed a yellowish moss-cushion, growing on the edge of +a level tablet within five or six feet of the outer folds of the fall. But +apart from the fact of its being situated where one acquainted with the lives +of ouzels would fancy an Ouzel’s nest ought to be, there was nothing in +its appearance visible at first sight, to distinguish it from other bosses of +rock-moss similarly situated with reference to perennial spray; and it was not +until I had scrutinized it again and again, and had removed my shoes and +stockings and crept along the face of the rock within eight or ten feet of it, +that I could decide certainly whether it was a nest or a natural growth. +</p> + +<p> +In these moss huts three or four eggs are laid, white like foam-bubbles; and +well may the little birds hatched from them sing water songs, for they hear +them all their lives, and even before they are born. +</p> + +<p> +I have often observed the young just out of the nest making their odd gestures, +and seeming in every way as much at home as their experienced parents, like +young bees on their first excursions to the flower fields. No amount of +familiarity with people and their ways seems to change them in the least. To +all appearance their behavior is just the same on seeing a man for the first +time, as when they have seen him frequently. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus53"></a> +<img src="images/img53.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="THE OUZEL AT HOME" /> +<p class="caption">THE OUZEL AT HOME.</p> +</div> + +<p> +On the lower reaches of the rivers where mills are built, they sing on through +the din of the machinery, and all the noisy confusion of dogs, cattle, and +workmen. On one occasion, while a wood-chopper was at work on the river-bank, I +observed one cheerily singing within reach of the flying chips. Nor does any +kind of unwonted disturbance put him in bad humor, or frighten him out of calm +self-possession. In passing through a narrow gorge, I once drove one ahead of +me from rapid to rapid, disturbing him four times in quick succession where he +could not very well fly past me on account of the narrowness of the channel. +Most birds under similar circumstances fancy themselves pursued, and become +suspiciously uneasy; but, instead of growing nervous about it, he made his +usual dippings, and sang one of his most tranquil strains. When observed within +a few yards their eyes are seen to express remarkable gentleness and +intelligence; but they seldom allow so near a view unless one wears clothing of +about the same color as the rocks and trees, and knows how to sit still. On one +occasion, while rambling along the shore of a mountain lake, where the birds, +at least those born that season, had never seen a man, I sat down to rest on a +large stone close to the water’s edge, upon which it seemed the ouzels +and sandpipers were in the habit of alighting when they came to feed on that +part of the shore, and some of the other birds also, when they came down to +wash or drink. In a few minutes, along came a whirring Ouzel and alighted on +the stone beside me, within reach of my hand. Then suddenly observing me, he +stooped nervously as if about to fly on the instant, but as I remained as +motionless as the stone, he gained confidence, and looked me steadily in the +face for about a minute, then flew quietly to the outlet and began to sing. +Next came a sandpiper and gazed at me with much the same guileless expression +of eye as the Ouzel. Lastly, down with a swoop came a Steller’s jay out +of a fir-tree, probably with the intention of moistening his noisy throat. But +instead of sitting confidingly as my other visitors had done, he rushed off at +once, nearly tumbling heels over head into the lake in his suspicious +confusion, and with loud screams roused the neighborhood. +</p> + +<p> +Love for song-birds, with their sweet human voices, appears to be more common +and unfailing than love for flowers. Every one loves flowers to some extent, at +least in life’s fresh morning, attracted by them as instinctively as +humming-birds and bees. Even the young Digger Indians have sufficient love for +the brightest of those found growing on the mountains to gather them and braid +them, as decorations for the hair. And I was glad to discover, through the few +Indians that could be induced to talk on the subject, that they have names for +the wild rose and the lily, and other conspicuous flowers, whether available as +food or otherwise. Most men, however, whether savage or civilized, become +apathetic toward all plants that have no other apparent use than the use of +beauty. But fortunately one’s first instinctive love of song-birds is +never wholly obliterated, no matter what the influences upon our lives may be. +I have often been delighted to see a pure, spiritual glow come into the +countenances of hard business-men and old miners, when a song-bird chanced to +alight near them. Nevertheless, the little mouthful of meat that swells out the +breasts of some song-birds is too often the cause of their death. Larks and +robins in particular are brought to market in hundreds. But fortunately the +Ouzel has no enemy so eager to eat his little body as to follow him into the +mountain solitudes. I never knew him to be chased even by hawks. +</p> + +<p> +An acquaintance of mine, a sort of foot-hill mountaineer, had a pet cat, a +great, dozy, overgrown creature, about as broad-shouldered as a lynx. During +the winter, while the snow lay deep, the mountaineer sat in his lonely cabin +among the pines smoking his pipe and wearing the dull time away. Tom was his +sole companion, sharing his bed, and sitting beside him on a stool with much +the same drowsy expression of eye as his master. The good-natured bachelor was +content with his hard fare of soda-bread and bacon, but Tom, the only creature +in the world acknowledging dependence on him, must needs be provided with fresh +meat. Accordingly he bestirred himself to contrive squirrel-traps, and waded +the snowy woods with his gun, making sad havoc among the few winter birds, +sparing neither robin, sparrow, nor tiny nuthatch, and the pleasure of seeing +Tom eat and grow fat was his great reward. +</p> + +<p> +One cold afternoon, while hunting along the river-bank, he noticed a +plain-feathered little bird skipping about in the shallows, and immediately +raised his gun. But just then the confiding songster began to sing, and after +listening to his summery melody the charmed hunter turned away, saying, +“Bless your little heart, I can’t shoot you, not even for +Tom.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus54"></a> +<img src="images/img54.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="YOSEMITE BIRDS, SNOW-BOUND +AT THE FOOT OF INDIAN CAÑON" /> +<p class="caption">YOSEMITE BIRDS, SNOW-BOUND AT THE FOOT OF INDIAN CAÑON.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Even so far north as icy Alaska, I have found my glad singer. When I was +exploring the glaciers between Mount Fairweather and the Stikeen River, one +cold day in November, after trying in vain to force a way through the +innumerable icebergs of Sum Dum Bay to the great glaciers at the head of it, I +was weary and baffled and sat resting in my canoe convinced at last that I +would have to leave this part of my work for another year. Then I began to plan +my escape to open water before the young ice which was beginning to form should +shut me in. While I thus lingered drifting with the bergs, in the midst of +these gloomy forebodings and all the terrible glacial desolation and grandeur, +I suddenly heard the well-known whir of an Ouzel’s wings, and, looking +up, saw my little comforter coming straight across the ice from the shore. In a +second or two he was with me, flying three times round my head with a happy +salute, as if saying, “Cheer up, old friend; you see I’m here, and +all’s well.” Then he flew back to the shore, alighted on the +topmost jag of a stranded iceberg, and began to nod and bow as though he were +on one of his favorite boulders in the midst of a sunny Sierra cascade. +</p> + +<p> +The species is distributed all along the mountain-ranges of the Pacific Coast +from Alaska to Mexico, and east to the Rocky Mountains. Nevertheless, it is as +yet comparatively little known. Audubon and Wilson did not meet it. Swainson +was, I believe, the first naturalist to describe a specimen from Mexico. +Specimens were shortly afterward procured by Drummond near the sources of the +Athabasca River, between the fifty-fourth and fifty-sixth parallels; and it has +been collected by nearly all of the numerous exploring expeditions undertaken +of late through our Western States and Territories; for it never fails to +engage the attention of naturalists in a very particular manner. +</p> + +<p> +Such, then, is our little cinclus, beloved of every one who is so fortunate as +to know him. Tracing on strong wing every curve of the most precipitous +torrents from one extremity of the Sierra to the other; not fearing to follow +them through their darkest gorges and coldest snow-tunnels; acquainted with +every waterfall, echoing their divine music; and throughout the whole of their +beautiful lives interpreting all that we in our unbelief call terrible in the +utterances of torrents and storms, as only varied expressions of God’s +eternal love. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br/> +THE WILD SHEEP<br/> +<small>(<i>Ovis montana</i>)</small></h2> + +<p> +The wild sheep ranks highest among the animal mountaineers of the Sierra. +Possessed of keen sight and scent, and strong limbs, he dwells secure amid the +loftiest summits, leaping unscathed from crag to crag, up and down the fronts +of giddy precipices, crossing foaming torrents and slopes of frozen snow, +exposed to the wildest storms, yet maintaining a brave, warm life, and +developing from generation to generation in perfect strength and beauty. +</p> + +<p> +Nearly all the lofty mountain-chains of the globe are inhabited by wild sheep, +most of which, on account of the remote and all but inaccessible regions where +they dwell, are imperfectly known as yet. They are classified by different +naturalists under from five to ten distinct species or varieties, the best +known being the burrhel of the Himalaya (<i>Ovis burrhel</i>, Blyth); the +argali, the large wild sheep of central and northeastern Asia (<i>O. ammon</i>, +Linn., or <i>Caprovis argali</i>); the Corsican mouflon (<i>O. musimon</i>, +Pal.); the aoudad of the mountains of northern Africa (<i>Ammotragus +tragelaphus</i>); and the Rocky Mountain bighorn (<i>O. montana</i>, Cuv.). To +this last-named species belongs the wild sheep of the Sierra. Its range, +according to the late Professor Baird of the Smithsonian Institution, extends +“from the region of the upper Missouri and Yellowstone to the Rocky +Mountains and the high grounds adjacent to them on the eastern slope, and as +far south as the Rio Grande. Westward it extends to the coast ranges of +Washington, Oregon, and California, and follows the highlands some distance +into Mexico.”<a href="#linknote-1" +name="linknoteref-1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> Throughout the vast region bounded on +the east by the Wahsatch Mountains and on the west by the Sierra there are more +than a hundred subordinate ranges and mountain groups, trending north and +south, range beyond range, with summits rising from eight to twelve thousand +feet above the level of the sea, probably all of which, according to my own +observations, is, or has been, inhabited by this species. +</p> + +<p> +Compared with the argali, which, considering its size and the vast extent of +its range, is probably the most important of all the wild sheep, our species is +about the same size, but the horns are less twisted and less divergent. The +more important characteristics are, however, essentially the same, some of the +best naturalists maintaining that the two are only varied forms of one species. +In accordance with this view, Cuvier conjectures that since central Asia seems +to be the region where the sheep first appeared, and from which it has been +distributed, the argali may have been distributed over this continent from Asia +by crossing Bering Strait on ice. This conjecture is not so ill founded as at +first sight would appear; for the Strait is only about fifty miles wide, is +interrupted by three islands, and is jammed with ice nearly every winter. +Furthermore the argali is abundant on the mountains adjacent to the Strait at +East Cape, where it is well known to the Tschuckchi hunters and where I have +seen many of their horns. +</p> + +<p> +On account of the extreme variability of the sheep under culture, it is +generally supposed that the innumerable domestic breeds have all been derived +from the few wild species; but the whole question is involved in obscurity. +According to Darwin, sheep have been domesticated from a very ancient period, +the remains of a small breed, differing from any now known, having been found +in the famous Swiss lake-dwellings. +</p> + +<p> +Compared with the best-known domestic breeds, we find that our wild species is +much larger, and, instead of an all-wool garment, wears a thick over-coat of +hair like that of the deer, and an under-covering of fine wool. The hair, +though rather coarse, is comfortably soft and spongy, and lies smooth, as if +carefully tended with comb and brush. The predominant color during most of the +year is brownish-gray, varying to bluish-gray in the autumn; the belly and a +large, conspicuous patch on the buttocks are white; and the tail, which is very +short, like that of a deer, is black, with a yellowish border. The wool is +white, and grows in beautiful spirals down out of sight among the shining hair, +like delicate climbing vines among stalks of corn. +</p> + +<p> +The horns of the male are of immense size, measuring in their greater diameter +from five to six and a half inches, and from two and a half to three feet in +length around the curve. They are yellowish-white in color, and ridged +transversely, like those of the domestic ram. Their cross-section near the base +is somewhat triangular in outline, and flattened toward the tip. Rising boldly +from the top of the head, they curve gently backward and outward, then forward +and outward, until about three fourths of a circle is described, and until the +flattened, blunt tips are about two feet or two and a half feet apart. Those of +the female are flattened throughout their entire length, are less curved than +those of the male, and much smaller, measuring less than a foot along the +curve. +</p> + +<p> +A ram and ewe that I obtained near the Modoc lava-beds, to the northeast of +Mount Shasta, measured as follows: +</p> + +<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;"> + +<tr> +<td></td><td><i>Ram.</i></td><td></td><td><i>Ewe.</i></td><td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td><td><i>ft.</i></td><td><i>in.</i></td><td><i>ft.</i></td><td><i>in.</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Height at shoulders</td><td>3</td><td>6</td><td>3</td><td>0</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Girth around shoulders</td><td>3</td><td>11</td><td>3</td><td>3¾</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Length from nose to root of tail</td><td>5</td><td>10¼</td><td>4</td><td>3½</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Length of ears</td><td>0</td><td>4¾</td><td>0</td><td>5</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Length of tail</td><td>0</td><td>4½</td><td>0</td><td>4½</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Length of horns around curve</td><td>2</td><td>9</td><td>0</td><td>11½</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Distance across from tip to tip of horns</td><td>2</td><td>5½</td><td></td><td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Circumference of horns at base</td><td>1</td><td>4</td><td>0</td><td>6</td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<p> +The measurements of a male obtained in the Rocky Mountains by Audubon vary but +little as compared with the above. The weight of his specimen was 344 pounds,<a +href="#linknote-2" name="linknoteref-2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> which is, perhaps, +about an average for full-grown males. The females are about a third lighter. +</p> + +<p> +Besides these differences in size, color, hair, etc., as noted above, we may +observe that the domestic sheep, in a general way, is expressionless, like a +dull bundle of something only half alive, while the wild is as elegant and +graceful as a deer, every movement manifesting admirable strength and +character. The tame is timid; the wild is bold. The tame is always more or less +ruffled and dirty; while the wild is as smooth and clean as the flowers of his +mountain pastures. +</p> + +<p> +The earliest mention that I have been able to find of the wild sheep in America +is by Father Picolo, a Catholic missionary at Monterey, in the year 1797, who, +after describing it, oddly enough, as “a kind of deer with a sheep-like +head, and about as large as a calf one or two years old,” naturally +hurries on to remark: “I have eaten of these beasts; their flesh is very +tender and delicious.” Mackenzie, in his northern travels, heard the +species spoken of by the Indians as “white buffaloes.” And Lewis +and Clark tell us that, in a time of great scarcity on the head waters of the +Missouri, they saw plenty of wild sheep, but they were “too shy to be +shot.” +</p> + +<p> +A few of the more energetic of the Pah Ute Indians hunt the wild sheep every +season among the more accessible sections of the High Sierra, in the +neighborhood of passes, where, from having been pursued, they have become +extremely wary; but in the rugged wilderness of peaks and cañons, where the +foaming tributaries of the San Joaquin and King’s rivers take their rise, +they fear no hunter save the wolf, and are more guileless and approachable than +their tame kindred. +</p> + +<p> +While engaged in the work of exploring high regions where they delight to roam +I have been greatly interested in studying their habits. In the months of +November and December, and probably during a considerable portion of midwinter, +they all flock together, male and female, old and young. I once found a +complete band of this kind numbering upward of fifty, which, on being alarmed, +went bounding away across a jagged lava-bed at admirable speed, led by a +majestic old ram, with the lambs safe in the middle of the flock. +</p> + +<p> +In spring and summer, the full-grown rams form separate bands of from three to +twenty, and are usually found feeding along the edges of glacier meadows, or +resting among the castle-like crags of the high summits; and whether quietly +feeding, or scaling the wild cliffs, their noble forms and the power and beauty +of their movements never fail to strike the beholder with lively admiration. +</p> + +<p> +Their resting-places seem to be chosen with reference to sunshine and a wide +outlook, and most of all to safety. Their feeding-grounds are among the most +beautiful of the wild gardens, bright with daisies and gentians and mats of +purple bryanthus, lying hidden away on rocky headlands and cañon sides, where +sunshine is abundant, or down in the shady glacier valleys, along the banks of +the streams and lakes, where the plushy sod is greenest. Here they feast all +summer, the happy wanderers, perhaps relishing the beauty as well as the taste +of the lovely flora on which they feed. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus55"></a> +<img src="images/img55.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="SNOW-BOUND ON MOUNT SHASTA" /> +<p class="caption">SNOW-BOUND ON MOUNT SHASTA.</p> +</div> + +<p> +When the winter storms set in, loading their highland pastures with snow, then, +like the birds, they gather and go to lower climates, usually descending the +eastern flank of the range to the rough, volcanic table-lands and treeless +ranges of the Great Basin adjacent to the Sierra. They never make haste, +however, and seem to have no dread of storms, many of the strongest only going +down leisurely to bare, wind-swept ridges, to feed on bushes and dry +bunch-grass, and then returning up into the snow. Once I was snow-bound on +Mount Shasta for three days, a little below the timber line. It was a dark and +stormy time, well calculated to test the skill and endurance of mountaineers. +The snow-laden gale drove on night and day in hissing, blinding floods, and +when at length it began to abate, I found that a small band of wild sheep had +weathered the storm in the lee of a clump of Dwarf Pines a few yards above my +storm-nest, where the snow was eight or ten feet deep. I was warm back of a +rock, with blankets, bread, and fire. My brave companions lay in the snow, +without food, and with only the partial shelter of the short trees, yet they +made no sign of suffering or faint-heartedness. +</p> + +<p> +In the months of May and June, the wild sheep bring forth their young in +solitary and almost inaccessible crags, far above the nesting-rocks of the +eagle. I have frequently come upon the beds of the ewes and lambs at an +elevation of from 12,000 to 13,000 feet above sea-level. These beds are simply +oval-shaped hollows, pawed out among loose, disintegrating rock-chips and sand, +upon some sunny spot commanding a good outlook, and partially sheltered from +the winds that sweep those lofty peaks almost without intermission. Such is the +cradle of the little mountaineer, aloft in the very sky; rocked in storms, +curtained in clouds, sleeping in thin, icy air; but, wrapped in his hairy coat, +and nourished by a strong, warm mother, defended from the talons of the eagle +and the teeth of the sly coyote, the bonny lamb grows apace. He soon learns to +nibble the tufted rock-grasses and leaves of the white spirsea; his horns begin +to shoot, and before summer is done he is strong and agile, and goes forth with +the flock, watched by the same divine love that tends the more helpless human +lamb in its cradle by the fireside. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing is more commonly remarked by noisy, dusty trail-travelers in the Sierra +than the want of animal life—no song-birds, no deer, no squirrels, no +game of any kind, they say. But if such could only go away quietly into the +wilderness, sauntering afoot and alone with natural deliberation, they would +soon learn that these mountain mansions are not without inhabitants, many of +whom, confiding and gentle, would not try to shun their acquaintance. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus56"></a> +<img src="images/img56.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="HEAD OF THE MERINO RAM (DOMESTIC)" /> +<p class="caption">HEAD OF THE MERINO RAM (DOMESTIC).</p> +</div> + +<p> +In the fall of 1873 I was tracing the South Fork of the San Joaquin up its wild +cañon to its farthest glacier fountains. It was the season of alpine Indian +summer. The sun beamed lovingly; the squirrels were nutting in the pine-trees, +butterflies hovered about the last of the goldenrods, the willow and maple +thickets were yellow, the meadows brown, and the whole sunny, mellow landscape +glowed like a countenance in the deepest and sweetest repose. On my way over +the glacier-polished rocks along the river, I came to an expanded portion of +the cañon, about two miles long and half a mile wide, which formed a level park +inclosed with picturesque granite walls like those of Yosemite Valley. Down +through the middle of it poured the beautiful river shining and spangling in +the golden light, yellow groves on its banks, and strips of brown meadow; while +the whole park was astir with wild life, some of which even the noisiest and +least observing of travelers must have seen had they been with me. Deer, with +their supple, well-grown fawns, bounded from thicket to thicket as I advanced; +grouse kept rising from the brown grass with a great whirring of wings, and, +alighting on the lower branches of the pines and poplars, allowed a near +approach, as if curious to see me. Farther on, a broad-shouldered wildcat +showed himself, coming out of a grove, and crossing the river on a flood-jamb +of logs, halting for a moment to look back. The bird-like tamias frisked about +my feet everywhere among the pine-needles and seedy grass-tufts; cranes waded +the shallows of the river-bends, the kingfisher rattled from perch to perch, +and the blessed ouzel sang amid the spray of every cascade. Where may lonely +wanderer find a more interesting family of mountain-dwellers, earth-born +companions and fellow-mortals? It was afternoon when I joined them, and the +glorious landscape began to fade in the gloaming before I awoke from their +enchantment. Then I sought a camp-ground on the river-bank, made a cupful of +tea, and lay down to sleep on a smooth place among the yellow leaves of an +aspen grove. Next day I discovered yet grander landscapes and grander life. +Following the river over huge, swelling rock-bosses through a majestic cañon, +and past innumerable cascades, the scenery in general became gradually wilder +and more alpine. The Sugar Pine and Silver Firs gave place to the hardier Cedar +and Hemlock Spruce. The cañon walls became more rugged and bare, and gentians +and arctic daisies became more abundant in the gardens and strips of meadow +along the streams. Toward the middle of the afternoon I came to another valley, +strikingly wild and original in all its features, and perhaps never before +touched by human foot. As regards area of level bottom-land, it is one of the +very smallest of the Yosemite type, but its walls are sublime, rising to a +height of from 2000 to 4000 feet above the river. At the head of the valley the +main cañon forks, as is found to be the case in all yosemites. The formation of +this one is due chiefly to the action of two great glaciers, whose fountains +lay to the eastward, on the flanks of Mounts Humphrey and Emerson and a cluster +of nameless peaks farther south. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus57"></a> +<img src="images/img57.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="HEAD OF ROCKY MOUNTAIN WILD SHEEP" /> +<p class="caption">HEAD OF ROCKY MOUNTAIN WILD SHEEP.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The gray, boulder-chafed river was singing loudly through the valley, but above +its massy roar I heard the booming of a waterfall, which drew me eagerly on; +and just as I emerged from the tangled groves and brier-thickets at the head of +the valley, the main fork of the river came in sight, falling fresh from its +glacier fountains in a snowy cascade, between granite walls 2000 feet high. The +steep incline down which the glad waters thundered seemed to bar all farther +progress. It was not long, however, before I discovered a crooked seam in the +rock, by which I was enabled to climb to the edge of a terrace that crosses the +cañon, and divides the cataract nearly in the middle. Here I sat down to take +breath and make some entries in my note-book, taking advantage, at the same +time, of my elevated position above the trees to gaze back over the valley into +the heart of the noble landscape, little knowing the while what neighbors were +near. +</p> + +<p> +After spending a few minutes in this way, I chanced to look across the fall, +and there stood three sheep quietly observing me. Never did the sudden +appearance of a mountain, or fall, or human friend more forcibly seize and +rivet my attention. Anxiety to observe accurately held me perfectly still. +Eagerly I marked the flowing undulations of their firm, braided muscles, their +strong legs, ears, eyes, heads, their graceful rounded necks, the color of +their hair, and the bold, upsweeping curves of their noble horns. When they +moved I watched every gesture, while they, in no wise disconcerted either by my +attention or by the tumultuous roar of the water, advanced deliberately +alongside the rapids, between the two divisions of the cataract, turning now +and then to look at me. Presently they came to a steep, ice-burnished +acclivity, which they ascended by a succession of quick, short, stiff-legged +leaps, reaching the top without a struggle. This was the most startling feat of +mountaineering I had ever witnessed, and, considering only the mechanics of the +thing, my astonishment could hardly have been greater had they displayed wings +and taken to flight. “Surefooted” mules on such ground would have +fallen and rolled like loosened boulders. Many a time, where the slopes are far +lower, I have been compelled to take off my shoes and stockings, tie them to my +belt, and creep barefooted, with the utmost caution. No wonder then, that I +watched the progress of these animal mountaineers with keen sympathy, and +exulted in the boundless sufficiency of wild nature displayed in their +invention, construction, and keeping. A few minutes later I caught sight of a +dozen more in one band, near the foot of the upper fall. They were standing on +the same side of the river with me, only twenty-five or thirty yards away, +looking as unworn and perfect as if created on the spot. It appeared by their +tracks, which I had seen in the Little Yosemite, and by their present position, +that when I came up the cañon they were all feeding together down in the +valley, and in their haste to reach high ground, where they could look about +them to ascertain the nature of the strange disturbance, they were divided, +three ascending on one side the river, the rest on the other. +</p> + +<p> +The main band, headed by an experienced chief, now began to cross the wild +rapids between the two divisions of the cascade. This was another exciting +feat; for, among all the varied experiences of mountaineers, the crossing of +boisterous, rock-dashed torrents is found to be one of the most trying to the +nerves. Yet these fine fellows walked fearlessly to the brink, and jumped from +boulder to boulder, holding themselves in easy poise above the whirling, +confusing current, as if they were doing nothing extraordinary. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus58"></a> +<img src="images/img58.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="CROSSING A CAÑON STREAM" /> +<p class="caption">CROSSING A CAÑON STREAM.</p> +</div> + +<p> +In the immediate foreground of this rare picture there was a fold of +ice-burnished granite, traversed by a few bold lines in which rock-ferns and +tufts of bryanthus were growing, the gray cañon walls on the sides, nobly +sculptured and adorned with brown cedars and pines; lofty peaks in the +distance, and in the middle ground the snowy fall, the voice and soul of the +landscape; fringing bushes beating time to its thunder-tones, the brave sheep +in front of it, their gray forms slightly obscured in the spray, yet standing +out in good, heavy relief against the close white water, with their huge horns +rising like the upturned roots of dead pine-trees, while the evening sunbeams +streaming up the cañon colored all the picture a rosy purple and made it +glorious. After crossing the river, the dauntless climbers, led by their chief, +at once began to scale the cañon wall, turning now right, now left, in long, +single file, keeping well apart out of one another’s way, and leaping in +regular succession from crag to crag, now ascending slippery dome-curves, now +walking leisurely along the edges of precipices, stopping at times to gaze down +at me from some flat-topped rock, with heads held aslant, as if curious to +learn what I thought about it, or whether I was likely to follow them. After +reaching the top of the wall, which, at this place, is somewhere between 1500 +and 2000 feet high, they were still visible against the sky as they lingered, +looking down in groups of twos or threes. +</p> + +<p> +Throughout the entire ascent they did not make a single awkward step, or an +unsuccessful effort of any kind. I have frequently seen tame sheep in mountains +jump upon a sloping rock-surface, hold on tremulously a few seconds, and fall +back baffled and irresolute. But in the most trying situations, where the +slightest want or inaccuracy would have been fatal, these always seemed to move +in comfortable reliance on their strength and skill, the limits of which they +never appeared to know. Moreover, each one of the flock, while following the +guidance of the most experienced, yet climbed with intelligent independence as +a perfect individual, capable of separate existence whenever it should wish or +be compelled to withdraw from the little clan. The domestic sheep, on the +contrary, is only a fraction of an animal, a whole flock being required to form +an individual, just as numerous flowerets are required to make one complete +sunflower. +</p> + +<p> +Those shepherds who, in summer, drive their flocks to the mountain pastures, +and, while watching them night and day, have seen them frightened by bears and +storms, and scattered like wind-driven chaff, will, in some measure, be able to +appreciate the self-reliance and strength and noble individuality of +Nature’s sheep. +</p> + +<p> +Like the Alp-climbing ibex of Europe, our mountaineer is said to plunge +headlong down the faces of sheer precipices, and alight on his big horns. I +know only two hunters who claim to have actually witnessed this feat; I never +was so fortunate. They describe the act as a diving head-foremost. The horns +are so large at the base that they cover the upper portion of the head down +nearly to a level with the eyes, and the skull is exceedingly strong. I struck +an old, bleached specimen on Mount Ritter a dozen blows with my ice-ax without +breaking it. Such skulls would not fracture very readily by the wildest +rock-diving, but other bones could hardly be expected to hold together in such +a performance; and the mechanical difficulties in the way of controlling their +movements, after striking upon an irregular surface, are, in themselves, +sufficient to show this boulder-like method of progression to be impossible, +even in the absence of all other evidence on the subject; moreover, the ewes +follow wherever the rams may lead, although their horns are mere spikes. I have +found many pairs of the horns of the old rams considerably battered, doubtless +a result of fighting. I was particularly interested in the question, after +witnessing the performances of this San Joaquin band upon the glaciated rocks +at the foot of the falls; and as soon as I procured specimens and examined +their feet, all the mystery disappeared. The secret, considered in connection +with exceptionally strong muscles, is simply this: the wide posterior portion +of the bottom of the foot, instead of wearing down and becoming flat and hard, +like the feet of tame sheep and horses, bulges out in a soft, rubber-like pad +or cushion, which not only grips and holds well on smooth rocks, but fits into +small cavities, and down upon or against slight protuberances. Even the hardest +portions of the edge of the hoof are comparatively soft and elastic; +furthermore, the toes admit of an extraordinary amount of both lateral and +vertical movement, allowing the foot to accommodate itself still more perfectly +to the irregularities of rock surfaces, while at the same time increasing the +gripping power. +</p> + +<p> +At the base of Sheep Rock, one of the winter strongholds of the Shasta flocks, +there lives a stock-raiser who has had the advantage of observing the movements +of wild sheep every winter; and, in the course of a conversation with him on +the subject of their diving habits, he pointed to the front of a lava headland +about 150 feet high, which is only eight or ten degrees out of the +perpendicular. “There,” said he, “I followed a band of them +fellows to the back of that rock yonder, and expected to capture them all, for +I thought I had a dead thing on them. I got behind them on a narrow bench that +runs along the face of the wall near the top and comes to an end where they +couldn’t get away without falling and being killed; but they jumped off, +and landed all right, as if that were the regular thing with them.” +</p> + +<p> +“What!” said I, “jumped 150 feet perpendicular! Did you see +them do it?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he replied, “I didn’t see them going down, for I +was behind them; but I saw them go off over the brink, and then I went below +and found their tracks where they struck on the loose rubbish at the bottom. +They just <i>sailed right off</i>, and landed on their feet right side up. That +is the kind of animal <i>they</i> is—beats anything else that goes on +four legs.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:30%;"> +<a name="illus59"></a> +<img src="images/img59.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="WILD SHEEP JUMPING OVER A PRECIPICE" /> +<p class="caption">WILD SHEEP JUMPING OVER A PRECIPICE.</p> +</div> + +<p> +On another occasion, a flock that was pursued by hunters retreated to another +portion of this same cliff where it is still higher, and, on being followed, +they were seen jumping down in perfect order, one behind another, by two men +who happened to be chopping where they had a fair view of them and could watch +their progress from top to bottom of the precipice. Both ewes and rams made the +frightful descent without evincing any extraordinary concern, hugging the rock +closely, and controlling the velocity of their half falling, half leaping +movements by striking at short intervals and holding back with their cushioned, +rubber feet upon small ledges and roughened inclines until near the bottom, +when they “sailed off” into the free air and alighted on their +feet, but with their bodies so nearly in a vertical position that they appeared +to be diving. +</p> + +<p> +It appears, therefore, that the methods of this wild mountaineering become +clearly comprehensible as soon as we make ourselves acquainted with the rocks, +and the kind of feet and muscles brought to bear upon them. +</p> + +<p> +The Modoc and Pah Ute Indians are, or rather have been, the most successful +hunters of the wild sheep in the regions that have come under my own +observation. I have seen large numbers of heads and horns in the caves of Mount +Shasta and the Modoc lava-beds, where the Indians had been feasting in stormy +weather; also in the cañons of the Sierra opposite Owen’s Valley; while +the heavy obsidian arrow-heads found on some of the highest peaks show that +this warfare has long been going on. +</p> + +<p> +In the more accessible ranges that stretch across the desert regions of western +Utah and Nevada, considerable numbers of Indians used to hunt in company like +packs of wolves, and being perfectly acquainted with the topography of their +hunting-grounds, and with the habits and instincts of the game, they were +pretty successful. On the tops of nearly every one of the Nevada mountains that +I have visited, I found small, nest-like inclosures built of stones, in which, +as I afterward learned, one or more Indians would lie in wait while their +companions scoured the ridges below, knowing that the alarmed sheep would +surely run to the summit, and when they could be made to approach with the wind +they were shot at short range. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus60"></a> +<img src="images/img60.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="INDIANS HUNTING WILD SHEEP" /> +<p class="caption">INDIANS HUNTING WILD SHEEP.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Still larger bands of Indians used to make extensive hunts upon some dominant +mountain much frequented by the sheep, such as Mount Grant on the Wassuck Range +to the west of Walker Lake. On some particular spot, favorably situated with +reference to the well-known trails of the sheep, they built a high-walled +corral, with long guiding wings diverging from the gateway; and into this +inclosure they sometimes succeeded in driving the noble game. Great numbers of +Indians were of course required, more, indeed, than they could usually muster, +counting in squaws, children, and all; they were compelled, therefore, to build +rows of dummy hunters out of stones, along the ridge-tops which they wished to +prevent the sheep from crossing. And, without discrediting the sagacity of the +game, these dummies were found effective; for, with a few live Indians moving +about excitedly among them, they could hardly be distinguished at a little +distance from men, by any one not in the secret. The whole ridge-top then +seemed to be alive with hunters. +</p> + +<p> +The only animal that may fairly be regarded as a companion or rival of the +sheep is the so-called Rocky Mountain goat (<i>Aplocerus montana</i>, Rich.), +which, as its name indicates, is more antelope than goat. He, too, is a brave +and hardy climber, fearlessly crossing the wildest summits, and braving the +severest storms, but he is shaggy, short-legged, and much less dignified in +demeanor than the sheep. His jet-black horns are only about five or six inches +in length, and the long, white hair with which he is covered obscures the +expression of his limbs. I have never yet seen a single specimen in the Sierra, +though possibly a few flocks may have lived on Mount Shasta a comparatively +short time ago. +</p> + +<p> +The ranges of these two mountaineers are pretty distinct, and they see but +little of each other; the sheep being restricted mostly to the dry, inland +mountains; the goat or chamois to the wet, snowy glacier-laden mountains of the +northwest coast of the continent in Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and +Alaska. Probably more than 200 dwell on the icy, volcanic cone of Mount +Rainier; and while I was exploring the glaciers of Alaska I saw flocks of these +admirable mountaineers nearly every day, and often followed their trails +through the mazes of bewildering crevasses, in which they are excellent guides. +</p> + +<p> +Three species of deer are found in California,—the black-tailed, +white-tailed, and mule deer. The first mentioned (<i>Cervus Columbianus</i>) is +by far the most abundant, and occasionally meets the sheep during the summer on +high glacier meadows, and along the edge of the timber line; but being a forest +animal, seeking shelter and rearing its young in dense thickets, it seldom +visits the wild sheep in its higher homes. The antelope, though not a +mountaineer, is occasionally met in winter by the sheep while feeding along the +edges of the sage-plains and bare volcanic hills to the east of the Sierra. So +also is the mule deer, which is almost restricted in its range to this eastern +region. The white-tailed species belongs to the coast ranges. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps no wild animal in the world is without enemies, but highlanders, as a +class, have fewer than lowlanders. The wily panther, slipping and crouching +among long grass and bushes, pounces upon the antelope and deer, but seldom +crosses the bald, craggy thresholds of the sheep. Neither can the bears be +regarded as enemies; for, though they seek to vary their every-day diet of nuts +and berries by an occasional meal of mutton, they prefer to hunt tame and +helpless flocks. Eagles and coyotes, no doubt, capture an unprotected lamb at +times, or some unfortunate beset in deep, soft snow, but these cases are little +more than accidents. So, also, a few perish in long-continued snow-storms, +though, in all my mountaineering, I have not found more than five or six that +seemed to have met their fate in this way. A little band of three were +discovered snow-bound in Bloody Canon a few years ago, and were killed with an +ax by mountaineers, who chanced to be crossing the range in winter. +</p> + +<p> +Man is the most dangerous enemy of all, but even from him our brave +mountain-dweller has little to fear in the remote solitudes of the High Sierra. +The golden plains of the Sacramento and San Joaquin were lately thronged with +bands of elk and antelope, but, being fertile and accessible, they were +required for human pastures. So, also, are many of the feeding-grounds of the +deer—hill, valley, forest, and meadow—but it will be long before +man will care to take the highland castles of the sheep. And when we consider +here how rapidly entire species of noble animals, such as the elk, moose, and +buffalo, are being pushed to the very verge of extinction, all lovers of +wildness will rejoice with me in the rocky security of <i>Ovis montana</i>, the +bravest of all the Sierra mountaineers. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="linknote-1" id="linknote-1"></a> <a href="#linknoteref-1">[1]</a> +Pacific Railroad Survey, Vol. VIII, page 678. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="linknote-2" id="linknote-2"></a> <a href="#linknoteref-2">[2]</a> +Audubon and Bachman’s “Quadrupeds of North America.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV<br/> +IN THE SIERRA FOOT-HILLS</h2> + +<p> +Murphy’s camp is a curious old mining-town in Calaveras County, at an +elevation of 2400 feet above the sea, situated like a nest in the center of a +rough, gravelly region, rich in gold. Granites, slates, lavas, limestone, iron +ores, quartz veins, auriferous gravels, remnants of dead fire-rivers and dead +water-rivers are developed here side by side within a radius of a few miles, +and placed invitingly open before the student like a book, while the people and +the region beyond the camp furnish mines of study of never-failing interest and +variety. +</p> + +<p> +When I discovered this curious place, I was tracing the channels of the ancient +pre-glacial rivers, instructive sections of which have been laid bare here and +in the adjacent regions by the miners. Rivers, according to the poets, +“go on forever”; but those of the Sierra are young as yet and have +scarcely learned the way down to the sea; while at least one generation of them +have died and vanished together with most of the basins they drained. All that +remains of them to tell their history is a series of interrupted fragments of +channels, mostly choked with gravel, and buried beneath broad, thick sheets of +lava. These are known as the “Dead Rivers of California,” and the +gravel deposited in them is comprehensively called the “Blue Lead.” +In some places the channels of the present rivers trend in the same direction, +or nearly so, as those of the ancient rivers; but, in general, there is little +correspondence between them, the entire drainage having been changed, or, +rather, made new. Many of the hills of the ancient landscapes have become +hollows, and the old hollows have become hills. Therefore the fragmentary +channels, with their loads of auriferous gravel, occur in all kinds of +unthought-of places, trending obliquely, or even at right angles to the present +drainage, across the tops of lofty ridges or far beneath them, presenting +impressive illustrations of the magnitude of the changes accomplished since +those ancient streams were annihilated. The last volcanic period preceding the +regeneration of the Sierra landscapes seems to have come on over all the range +almost simultaneously, like the glacial period, notwithstanding lavas of +different age occur together in many places, indicating numerous periods of +activity in the Sierra fire-fountains. The most important of the ancient +river-channels in this region is a section that extends from the south side of +the town beneath Coyote Creek and the ridge beyond it to the Cañon of the +Stanislaus; but on account of its depth below the general surface of the +present valleys the rich gold gravels it is known to contain cannot be easily +worked on a large scale. Their extraordinary richness may be inferred from the +fact that many claims were profitably worked in them by sinking shafts to a +depth of 200 feet or more, and hoisting the dirt by a windlass. Should the dip +of this ancient channel be such as to make the Stanislaus Cañon available as a +dump, then the grand deposit might be worked by the hydraulic method, and +although a long, expensive tunnel would be required, the scheme might still +prove profitable, for there is “millions in it.” +</p> + +<p> +The importance of these ancient gravels as gold fountains is well known to +miners. Even the superficial placers of the present streams have derived much +of their gold from them. According to all accounts, the Murphy placers have +been very rich—“terrific rich,” as they say here. The hills +have been cut and scalped, and every gorge and gulch and valley torn to pieces +and disemboweled, expressing a fierce and desperate energy hard to understand. +Still, any kind of effort-making is better than inaction, and there is +something sublime in seeing men working in dead earnest at anything, pursuing +an object with glacier-like energy and persistence. Many a brave fellow has +recorded a most eventful chapter of life on these Calaveras rocks. But most of +the pioneer miners are sleeping now, their wild day done, while the few +survivors linger languidly in the washed-out gulches or sleepy village like +harried bees around the ruins of their hive. “We have no industry left +<i>now</i>,” they told me, “and no men; everybody and everything +hereabouts has gone to decay. We are only bummers—out of the game, a thin +scatterin’ of poor, dilapidated cusses, compared with what we used to be +in the grand old gold-days. We were giants then, and you can look around here +and see our tracks.” But although these lingering pioneers are perhaps +more exhausted than the mines, and about as dead as the dead rivers, they are +yet a rare and interesting set of men, with much gold mixed with the rough, +rocky gravel of their characters; and they manifest a breeding and intelligence +little looked for in such surroundings as theirs. As the heavy, long-continued +grinding of the glaciers brought out the features of the Sierra, so the intense +experiences of the gold period have brought out the features of these old +miners, forming a richness and variety of character little known as yet. The +sketches of Bret Harte, Hayes, and Miller have not exhausted this field by any +means. It is interesting to note the extremes possible in one and the same +character: harshness and gentleness, manliness and childishness, apathy and +fierce endeavor. Men who, twenty years ago, would not cease their shoveling to +save their lives, now play in the streets with children. Their long, +Micawber-like waiting after the exhaustion of the placers has brought on an +exaggerated form of dotage. I heard a group of brawny pioneers in the street +eagerly discussing the quantity of tail required for a boy’s kite; and +one graybeard undertook the sport of flying it, volunteering the information +that he was a boy, “always was a boy, and d—n a man who was not a +boy inside, however ancient outside!” Mines, morals, politics, the +immortality of the soul, etc., were discussed beneath shade-trees and in +saloons, the time for each being governed apparently by the temperature. +Contact with Nature, and the habits of observation acquired in gold-seeking, +had made them all, to some extent, collectors, and, like wood-rats, they had +gathered all kinds of odd specimens into their cabins, and now required me to +examine them. They were themselves the oddest and most interesting specimens. +One of them offered to show me around the old diggings, giving me fair warning +before setting out that I might not like him, “because,” said he, +“people say I’m eccentric. I notice everything, and gather beetles +and snakes and anything that’s queer; and so some don’t like me, +and call me eccentric. I’m always trying to find out things. Now, +there’s a weed; the Indians eat it for greens. What do you call those +long-bodied flies with big heads?” “Dragon-flies,” I +suggested. “Well, their jaws work sidewise, instead of up and down, and +grasshoppers’ jaws work the same way, and therefore I think they are the +same species. I always notice everything like that, and just because I do, they +say I’m eccentric,” etc. +</p> + +<p> +Anxious that I should miss none of the wonders of their old gold-field, the +good people had much to say about the marvelous beauty of Cave City Cave, and +advised me to explore it. This I was very glad to do, and finding a guide who +knew the way to the mouth of it, I set out from Murphy the next morning. +</p> + +<p> +The most beautiful and extensive of the mountain caves of California occur in a +belt of metamorphic limestone that is pretty generally developed along the +western flank of the Sierra from the McCloud River on the north to the Kaweah +on the south, a distance of over 400 miles, at an elevation of from 2000 to +7000 feet above the sea. Besides this regular belt of caves, the California +landscapes are diversified by long imposing ranks of sea-caves, rugged and +variable in architecture, carved in the coast headlands and precipices by +centuries of wave-dashing; and innumerable lava-caves, great and small, +originating in the unequal flowing and hardening of the lava sheets in which +they occur, fine illustrations of which are presented in the famous Modoc Lava +Beds, and around the base of icy Shasta. In this comprehensive glance we may +also notice the shallow wind-worn caves in stratified sandstones along the +margins of the plains; and the cave-like recesses in the Sierra slates and +granites, where bears and other mountaineers find shelter during the fall of +sudden storms. In general, however, the grand massive uplift of the Sierra, as +far as it has been laid-bare to observation, is about as solid and caveless as +a boulder. +</p> + +<p> +Fresh beauty opens one’s eyes wherever it is really seen, but the very +abundance and completeness of the common beauty that besets our steps prevents +its being absorbed and appreciated. It is a good thing, therefore, to make +short excursions now and then to the bottom of the sea among dulse and coral, +or up among the clouds on mountain-tops, or in balloons, or even to creep like +worms into dark holes and caverns underground, not only to learn something of +what is going on in those out-of-the-way places, but to see better what the sun +sees on our return to common every-day beauty. +</p> + +<p> +Our way from Murphy’s to the cave lay across a series of picturesque, +moory ridges in the chaparral region between the brown foot-hills and the +forests, a flowery stretch of rolling hill-waves breaking here and there into a +kind of rocky foam on the higher summits, and sinking into delightful bosky +hollows embowered with vines. The day was a fine specimen of California summer, +pure sunshine, unshaded most of the time by a single cloud. As the sun rose +higher, the heated air began to flow in tremulous waves from every southern +slope. The sea-breeze that usually comes up the foot-hills at this season, with +cooling on its wings, was scarcely perceptible. The birds were assembled +beneath leafy shade, or made short, languid flights in search of food, all save +the majestic buzzard; with broad wings outspread he sailed the warm air +unwearily from ridge to ridge, seeming to enjoy the fervid sunshine like a +butterfly. Squirrels, too, whose spicy ardor no heat or cold may abate, were +nutting among the pines, and the innumerable hosts of the insect kingdom were +throbbing and wavering unwearied as sunbeams. +</p> + +<p> +This brushy, berry-bearing region used to be a deer and bear pasture, but since +the disturbances of the gold period these fine animals have almost wholly +disappeared. Here, also, once roamed the mastodon and elephant, whose bones are +found entombed in the river gravels and beneath thick folds of lava. Toward +noon, as we were riding slowly over bank and brae, basking in the unfeverish +sun-heat, we witnessed the upheaval of a new mountain-range, a Sierra of clouds +abounding in landscapes as truly sublime and beautiful—if only we have a +mind to think so and eyes to see—as the more ancient rocky Sierra beneath +it, with its forests and waterfalls; reminding us that, as there is a lower +world of caves, so, also, there is an upper world of clouds. Huge, bossy cumuli +developed with astonishing rapidity from mere buds, swelling with visible +motion into colossal mountains, and piling higher, higher, in long massive +ranges, peak beyond peak, dome over dome, with many a picturesque valley and +shadowy cave between; while the dark firs and pines of the upper benches of the +Sierra were projected against their pearl bosses with exquisite clearness of +outline. These cloud mountains vanished in the azure as quickly as they were +developed, leaving no detritus; but they were not a whit less real or +interesting on this account. The more enduring hills over which we rode were +vanishing as surely as they, only not so fast, a difference which is great or +small according to the standpoint from which it is contemplated. +</p> + +<p> +At the bottom of every dell we found little homesteads embosomed in wild brush +and vines wherever the recession of the hills left patches of arable ground. +These secluded flats are settled mostly by Italians and Germans, who plant a +few vegetables and grape-vines at odd times, while their main business is +mining and prospecting. In spite of all the natural beauty of these dell +cabins, they can hardly be called homes. They are only a better kind of camp, +gladly abandoned whenever the hoped-for gold harvest has been gathered. There +is an air of profound unrest and melancholy about the best of them. Their +beauty is thrust upon them by exuberant Nature, apart from which they are only +a few logs and boards rudely jointed and without either ceiling or floor, a +rough fireplace with corresponding cooking utensils, a shelf-bed, and stool. +The ground about them is strewn with battered prospecting-pans, picks, +sluice-boxes, and quartz specimens from many a ledge, indicating the trend of +their owners’ hard lives. +</p> + +<p> +The ride from Murphy’s to the cave is scarcely two hours long, but we +lingered among quartz-ledges and banks of dead river gravel until long after +noon. At length emerging from a narrow-throated gorge, a small house came in +sight set in a thicket of fig-trees at the base of a limestone hill. +“That,” said my guide, pointing to the house, “is Cave City, +and the cave is in that gray hill.” Arriving at the one house of this +one-house city, we were boisterously welcomed by three drunken men who had come +to town to hold a spree. The mistress of the house tried to keep order, and in +reply to our inquiries told us that the cave guide was then in the cave with a +party of ladies. “And must we wait until he returns?” we asked. No, +that was unnecessary; we might take candles and go into the cave alone, +provided we shouted from time to time so as to be found by the guide, and were +careful not to fall over the rocks or into the dark pools. Accordingly taking a +trail from the house, we were led around the base of the hill to the mouth of +the cave, a small inconspicuous archway, mossy around the edges and shaped like +the door of a water-ouzel’s nest, with no appreciable hint or +advertisement of the grandeur of the many crystal chambers within. Lighting our +candles, which seemed to have no illuminating power in the thick darkness, we +groped our way onward as best we could along narrow lanes and alleys, from +chamber to chamber, around rustic columns and heaps of fallen rocks, stopping +to rest now and then in particularly beautiful places—fairy alcoves +furnished with admirable variety of shelves and tables, and round bossy stools +covered with sparkling crystals. Some of the corridors were muddy, and in +plodding along these we seemed to be in the streets of some prairie village in +spring-time. Then we would come to handsome marble stairways conducting right +and left into upper chambers ranged above one another three or four stories +high, floors, ceilings, and walls lavishly decorated with innumerable +crystalline forms. After thus wandering exploringly, and alone for a mile or +so, fairly enchanted, a murmur of voices and a gleam of light betrayed the +approach of the guide and his party, from whom, when they came up, we received +a most hearty and natural stare, as we stood half concealed in a side recess +among stalagmites. I ventured to ask the dripping, crouching company how they +had enjoyed their saunter, anxious to learn how the strange sunless scenery of +the underworld had impressed them. “Ah, it’s nice! It’s +splendid!” they all replied and echoed. “The Bridal Chamber back +here is just glorious! This morning we came down from the Calaveras Big Tree +Grove, and the trees are nothing to it.” After making this curious +comparison they hastened sunward, the guide promising to join us shortly on the +bank of a deep pool, where we were to wait for him. This is a charming little +lakelet of unknown depth, never yet stirred by a breeze, and its eternal calm +excites the imagination even more profoundly than the silvery lakes of the +glaciers rimmed with meadows and snow and reflecting sublime mountains. +</p> + +<p> +Our guide, a jolly, rollicking Italian, led us into the heart of the hill, up +and down, right and left, from chamber to chamber more and more magnificent, +all a-glitter like a glacier cave with icicle-like stalactites and stalagmites +combined in forms of indescribable beauty. We were shown one large room that +was occasionally used as a dancing-hall; another that was used as a chapel, +with natural pulpit and crosses and pews, sermons in every stone, where a +priest had said mass. Mass-saying is not so generally developed in connection +with natural wonders as dancing. One of the first conceits excited by the giant +Sequoias was to cut one of them down and dance on its stump. We have also seen +dancing in the spray of Niagara; dancing in the famous Bower Cave above +Coulterville; and nowhere have I seen so much dancing as in Yosemite. A dance +on the inaccessible South Dome would likely follow the making of an easy way to +the top of it. +</p> + +<p> +It was delightful to witness here the infinite deliberation of Nature, and the +simplicity of her methods in the production of such mighty results, such +perfect repose combined with restless enthusiastic energy. Though cold and +bloodless as a landscape of polar ice, building was going on in the dark with +incessant activity. The archways and ceilings were everywhere hung with +down-growing crystals, like inverted groves of leafless saplings, some of them +large, others delicately attenuated, each tipped with a single drop of water, +like the terminal bud of a pine-tree. The only appreciable sounds were the +dripping and tinkling of water failing into pools or faintly plashing on the +crystal floors. +</p> + +<p> +In some places the crystal decorations are arranged in graceful flowing folds +deeply plicated like stiff silken drapery. In others straight lines of the +ordinary stalactite forms are combined with reference to size and tone in a +regularly graduated system like the strings of a harp with musical tones +corresponding thereto; and on these stone harps we played by striking the +crystal strings with a stick. The delicious liquid tones they gave forth seemed +perfectly divine as they sweetly whispered and wavered through the majestic +halls and died away in faintest cadence,—the music of fairy-land. Here we +lingered and reveled, rejoicing to find so much music in stony silence, so much +splendor in darkness, so many mansions in the depths of the mountains, +buildings ever in process of construction, yet ever finished, developing from +perfection to perfection, profusion without overabundance; every particle +visible or invisible in glorious motion, marching to the music of the spheres +in a region regarded as the abode of eternal stillness and death. +</p> + +<p> +The outer chambers of mountain caves are frequently selected as homes by wild +beasts. In the Sierra, however, they seem to prefer homes and hiding-places in +chaparral and beneath shelving precipices, as I have never seen their tracks in +any of the caves. This is the more remarkable because notwithstanding the +darkness and oozing water there is nothing uncomfortably cellar-like or +sepulchral about them. +</p> + +<p> +When we emerged into the bright landscapes of the sun everything looked +brighter, and we felt our faith in Nature’s beauty strengthened, and saw +more clearly that beauty is universal and immortal, above, beneath, on land and +sea, mountain and plain, in heat and cold, light and darkness. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br/> +THE BEE-PASTURES</h2> + +<p> +When California was wild, it was one sweet bee-garden throughout its entire +length, north and south, and all the way across from the snowy Sierra to the +ocean. +</p> + +<p> +Wherever a bee might fly within the bounds of this virgin +wilderness—through the redwood forests, along the banks of the rivers, +along the bluffs and headlands fronting the sea, over valley and plain, park +and grove, and deep, leafy glen, or far up the piny slopes of the +mountains—throughout every belt and section of climate up to the timber +line, bee-flowers bloomed in lavish, abundance. Here they grew more or less +apart in special sheets and patches of no great size, there in broad, flowing +folds hundreds of miles in length—zones of polleny forests, zones of +flowery chaparral, stream-tangles of rubus and wild rose, sheets of golden +composite, beds of violets, beds of mint, beds of bryanthus and clover, and so +on, certain species blooming somewhere all the year round. +</p> + +<p> +But of late years plows and sheep have made sad havoc in these glorious +pastures, destroying tens of thousands of the flowery acres like a fire, and +banishing many species of the best honey-plants to rocky cliffs and +fence-corners, while, on the other hand, cultivation thus far has given no +adequate compensation, at least in kind; only acres of alfalfa for miles of the +richest wild pasture, ornamental roses and honeysuckles around cottage doors +for cascades of wild roses in the dells, and small, square orchards and +orange-groves for broad mountain-belts of chaparral. +</p> + +<p> +The Great Central Plain of California, during the months of March, April, and +May, was one smooth, continuous bed of honey-bloom, so marvelously rich that, +in walking from one end of it to the other, a distance of more than 400 miles, +your foot would press about a hundred flowers at every step. Mints, gilias, +nemophilas, castilleias, and innumerable compositae were so crowded together +that, had ninety-nine per cent. of them been taken away, the plain would still +have seemed to any but Californians extravagantly flowery. The radiant, +honeyful corollas, touching and overlapping, and rising above one another, +glowed in the living light like a sunset sky—one sheet of purple and +gold, with the bright Sacramento pouring through the midst of it from the +north, the San Joaquin from the south, and their many tributaries sweeping in +at right angles from the mountains, dividing the plain into sections fringed +with trees. +</p> + +<p> +Along the rivers there is a strip of bottom-land, countersunk beneath the +general level, and wider toward the foot-hills, where magnificent oaks, from +three to eight feet in diameter, cast grateful masses of shade over the open, +prairie-like levels. And close along the water’s edge there was a fine +jungle of tropical luxuriance, composed of wild-rose and bramble bushes and a +great variety of climbing vines, wreathing and interlacing the branches and +trunks of willows and alders, and swinging across from summit to summit in +heavy festoons. Here the wild bees reveled in fresh bloom long after the +flowers of the drier plain had withered and gone to seed. And in midsummer, +when the “blackberries” were ripe, the Indians came from the +mountains to feast—men, women, and babies in long, noisy trains, often +joined by the farmers of the neighborhood, who gathered this wild fruit with +commendable appreciation of its superior flavor, while their home orchards were +full of ripe peaches, apricots, nectarines, and figs, and their vineyards were +laden with grapes. But, though these luxuriant, shaggy river-beds were thus +distinct from the smooth, treeless plain, they made no heavy dividing lines in +general views. The whole appeared as one continuous sheet of bloom bounded only +by the mountains. +</p> + +<p> +When I first saw this central garden, the most extensive and regular of all the +bee-pastures of the State, it seemed all one sheet of plant gold, hazy and +vanishing in the distance, distinct as a new map along the foot-hills at my +feet. +</p> + +<p> +Descending the eastern slopes of the Coast Range through beds of gilias and +lupines, and around many a breezy hillock and bush-crowned headland, I at +length waded out into the midst of it. All the ground was covered, not with +grass and green leaves, but with radiant corollas, about ankle-deep next the +foot-hills, knee-deep or more five or six miles out. Here were bahia, madia, +madaria, burrielia, chrysopsis, corethrogyne, grindelia, etc., growing in close +social congregations of various shades of yellow, blending finely with the +purples of clarkia, orthocarpus, and oenothera, whose delicate petals were +drinking the vital sunbeams without giving back any sparkling glow. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus61"></a> +<img src="images/img61.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A BEE-RANCH IN LOWER CALIFORNIA" /> +<p class="caption">A BEE-RANCH IN LOWER CALIFORNIA.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Because so long a period of extreme drought succeeds the rainy season, most of +the vegetation is composed of annuals, which spring up simultaneously, and +bloom together at about the same height above the ground, the general surface +being but slightly ruffled by the taller phacelias, pentstemons, and groups of +<i>Salvia carduacea</i>, the king of the mints. +</p> + +<p> +Sauntering in any direction, hundreds of these happy sun-plants brushed against +my feet at every step, and closed over them as if I were wading in liquid gold. +The air was sweet with fragrance, the larks sang their blessed songs, rising on +the wing as I advanced, then sinking out of sight in the polleny sod, while +myriads of wild bees stirred the lower air with their monotonous +hum—monotonous, yet forever fresh and sweet as every-day sunshine. Hares +and spermophiles showed themselves in considerable numbers in shallow places, +and small bands of antelopes were almost constantly in sight, gazing curiously +from some slight elevation, and then bounding swiftly away with unrivaled grace +of motion. Yet I could discover no crushed flowers to mark their track, nor, +indeed, any destructive action of any wild foot or tooth whatever. +</p> + +<p> +The great yellow days circled by uncounted, while I drifted toward the north, +observing the countless forms of life thronging about me, lying down almost +anywhere on the approach of night. And what glorious botanical beds I had! +Oftentimes on awaking I would find several new species leaning over me and +looking me full in the face, so that my studies would begin before rising. +</p> + +<p> +About the first of May I turned eastward, crossing the San Joaquin River +between the mouths of the Tuolumne and Merced, and by the time I had reached +the Sierra foot-hills most of the vegetation had gone to seed and become as dry +as hay. +</p> + +<p> +All the seasons of the great plain are warm or temperate, and bee-flowers are +never wholly wanting; but the grand springtime—the annual +resurrection—is governed by the rains, which usually set in about the +middle of November or the beginning of December. Then the seeds, that for six +months have lain on the ground dry and fresh as if they had been gathered into +barns, at once unfold their treasured life. The general brown and purple of the +ground, and the dead vegetation of the preceding year, give place to the green +of mosses and liverworts and myriads of young leaves. Then one species after +another comes into flower, gradually overspreading the green with yellow and +purple, which lasts until May. +</p> + +<p> +The “rainy season” is by no means a gloomy, soggy period of +constant cloudiness and rain. Perhaps nowhere else in North America, perhaps in +the world, are the months of December, January, February, and March so full of +bland, plant-building sunshine. Referring to my notes of the winter and spring +of 1868-69, every day of which I spent out of doors, on that section of the +plain lying between the Tuolumne and Merced rivers, I find that the first rain +of the season fell on December 18th. January had only six rainy days—that +is, days on which rain fell; February three, March five, April three, and May +three, completing the so-called rainy season, which was about an average one. +The ordinary rain-storm of this region is seldom very cold or violent. The +winds, which in settled weather come from the northwest, veer round into the +opposite direction, the sky fills gradually and evenly with one general cloud, +from which, the rain falls steadily, often for days in succession, at a +temperature of about 45° or 50°. +</p> + +<p> +More than seventy-five per cent. of all the rain of this season came from the +northwest, down the coast over southeastern Alaska, British Columbia, +Washington, and Oregon, though the local winds of these circular storms blow +from the southeast. One magnificent local storm from the northwest fell on +March 21. A massive, round-browed cloud came swelling and thundering over the +flowery plain in most imposing majesty, its bossy front burning white and +purple in the full blaze of the sun, while warm rain poured from its ample +fountains like a cataract, beating down flowers and bees, and flooding the dry +watercourses as suddenly as those of Nevada are flooded by the so-called +“cloudbursts.” But in less than half an hour not a trace of the +heavy, mountain-like cloud-structure was left in the sky, and the bees were on +the wing, as if nothing more gratefully refreshing could have been sent them. +</p> + +<p> +By the end of January four species of plants were in flower, and five or six +mosses had already adjusted their hoods and were in the prime of life; but the +flowers were not sufficiently numerous as yet to affect greatly the general +green of the young leaves. Violets made their appearance in the first week of +February, and toward the end of this month the warmer portions of the plain +were already golden with myriads of the flowers of rayed composite. +</p> + +<p> +This was the full springtime. The sunshine grew warmer and richer, new plants +bloomed every day; the air became more tuneful with humming wings, and sweeter +with the fragrance of the opening flowers. Ants and ground squirrels were +getting ready for their summer work, rubbing their benumbed limbs, and sunning +themselves on the husk-piles before their doors, and spiders were busy mending +their old webs, or weaving new ones. +</p> + +<p> +In March, the vegetation was more than doubled in depth and color; claytonia, +calandrinia, a large white gilia, and two nemophilas were in bloom, together +with a host of yellow composite, tall enough now to bend in the wind and show +wavering ripples of shade. +</p> + +<p> +In April, plant-life, as a whole, reached its greatest height, and the plain, +over all its varied surface, was mantled with a close, furred plush of purple +and golden corollas. By the end of this month, most of the species had ripened +their seeds, but undecayed, still seemed to be in bloom from the numerous +corolla-like involucres and whorls of chaffy scales of the composite. In May, +the bees found in flower only a few deep-set liliaceous plants and eriogonums. +</p> + +<p> +June, July, August, and September is the season of rest and sleep,—a +winter of dry heat,—followed in October by a second outburst of bloom at +the very driest time of the year. Then, after the shrunken mass of leaves and +stalks of the dead vegetation crinkle and turn to dust beneath the foot, as if +it had been baked in an oven, <i>Hemizonia virgata</i>, a slender, unobtrusive +little plant, from six inches to three feet high, suddenly makes its appearance +in patches miles in extent, like a resurrection of the bloom of April. I have +counted upward of 3000 flowers, five eighths of an inch in diameter, on a +single plant. Both its leaves and stems are so slender as to be nearly +invisible, at a distance of a few yards, amid so showy a multitude of flowers. +The ray and disk flowers are both yellow, the stamens purple, and the texture +of the rays is rich and velvety, like the petals of garden pansies. The +prevailing wind turns all the heads round to the southeast, so that in facing +northwestward we have the flowers looking us in the face. In my estimation, +this little plant, the last born of the brilliant host of compositae that +glorify the plain, is the most interesting of all. It remains in flower until +November, uniting with two or three species of wiry eriogonums, which continue +the floral chain around December to the spring flowers of January. Thus, +although the main bloom and honey season is only about three months long, the +floral circle, however thin around some of the hot, rainless months, is never +completely broken. +</p> + +<p> +How long the various species of wild bees have lived in this honey-garden, +nobody knows; probably ever since the main body of the present flora gained +possession of the land, toward the close of the glacial period. The first brown +honey-bees brought to California are said to have arrived in San Francisco in +March, 1853. A bee-keeper by the name of Shelton purchased a lot, consisting of +twelve swarms, from some one at Aspinwall, who had brought them from New York. +When landed at San Francisco, all the hives contained live bees, but they +finally dwindled to one hive, which was taken to San José. The little +immigrants flourished and multiplied in the bountiful pastures of the Santa +Clara Valley, sending off three swarms the first season. The owner was killed +shortly afterward, and in settling up his estate, two of the swarms were sold +at auction for $105 and $110 respectively. Other importations were made, from +time to time, by way of the Isthmus, and, though great pains were taken to +insure success, about one half usually died on the way. Four swarms were +brought safely across the plains in 1859, the hives being placed in the rear +end of a wagon, which was stopped in the afternoon to allow the bees to fly and +feed in the floweriest places that were within reach until dark, when the hives +were closed. +</p> + +<p> +In 1855, two years after the time of the first arrivals from New York, a single +swarm was brought over from San José, and let fly in the Great Central Plain. +Bee-culture, however, has never gained much attention here, notwithstanding the +extraordinary abundance of honey-bloom, and the high price of honey during the +early years. A few hives are found here and there among settlers who chanced to +have learned something about the business before coming to the State. But +sheep, cattle, grain, and fruit raising are the chief industries, as they +require less skill and care, while the profits thus far have been greater. In +1856 honey sold here at from one and a half to two dollars per pound. Twelve +years later the price had fallen to twelve and a half cents. In 1868 I sat down +to dinner with a band of ravenous sheep-shearers at a ranch on the San Joaquin, +where fifteen or twenty hives were kept, and our host advised us not to spare +the large pan of honey he had placed on the table, as it was the cheapest +article he had to offer. In all my walks, however, I have never come upon a +regular bee-ranch in the Central Valley like those so common and so skilfully +managed in the southern counties of the State. The few pounds of honey and wax +produced are consumed at home, and are scarcely taken into account among the +coarser products of the farm. The swarms that escape from their careless owners +have a weary, perplexing time of it in seeking suitable homes. Most of them +make their way to the foot-hills of the mountains, or to the trees that line +the banks of the rivers, where some hollow log or trunk may be found. A friend +of mine, while out hunting on the San Joaquin, came upon an old coon trap, +hidden among some tall grass, near the edge of the river, upon which he sat +down to rest. Shortly afterward his attention was attracted to a crowd of angry +bees that were flying excitedly about his head, when he discovered that he was +sitting upon their hive, which was found to contain more than 200 pounds of +honey. Out in the broad, swampy delta of the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers, +the little wanderers have been known to build their combs in a bunch of rushes, +or stiff, wiry grass, only slightly protected from the weather, and in danger +every spring of being carried away by floods. They have the advantage, however, +of a vast extent of fresh pasture, accessible only to themselves. +</p> + +<p> +The present condition of the Grand Central Garden is very different from that +we have sketched. About twenty years ago, when the gold placers had been pretty +thoroughly exhausted, the attention of fortune-seekers—not +home-seekers—was, in great part, turned away from the mines to the +fertile plains, and many began experiments in a kind of restless, wild +agriculture. A load of lumber would be hauled to some spot on the free +wilderness, where water could be easily found, and a rude box-cabin built. Then +a gang-plow was procured, and a dozen mustang ponies, worth ten or fifteen +dollars apiece, and with these hundreds of acres were stirred as easily as if +the land had been under cultivation for years, tough, perennial roots being +almost wholly absent. Thus a ranch was established, and from these bare wooden +huts, as centers of desolation, the wild flora vanished in ever-widening +circles. But the arch destroyers are the shepherds, with their flocks of hoofed +locusts, sweeping over the ground like a fire, and trampling down every rod +that escapes the plow as completely as if the whole plain were a cottage +garden-plot without a fence. But notwithstanding these destroyers, a thousand +swarms of bees may be pastured here for every one now gathering honey. The +greater portion is still covered every season with a repressed growth of +bee-flowers, for most of the species are annuals, and many of them are not +relished by sheep or cattle, while the rapidity of their growth enables them to +develop and mature their seeds before any foot has time to crush them. The +ground is, therefore, kept sweet, and the race is perpetuated, though only as a +suggestive shadow of the magnificence of its wildness. +</p> + +<p> +The time will undoubtedly come when the entire area of this noble valley will +be tilled like a garden, when the fertilizing waters of the mountains, now +flowing to the sea, will be distributed to every acre, giving rise to +prosperous towns, wealth, arts, etc. Then, I suppose, there will be few left, +even among botanists, to deplore the vanished primeval flora. In the mean time, +the pure waste going on—the wanton destruction of the innocents—is +a sad sight to see, and the sun may well be pitied in being compelled to look +on. +</p> + +<p> +The bee-pastures of the Coast Ranges last longer and are more varied than those +of the great plain, on account of differences of soil and climate, moisture, +and shade, etc. Some of the mountains are upward of 4000 feet in height, and +small streams, springs, oozy bogs, etc., occur in great abundance and variety +in the wooded regions, while open parks, flooded with sunshine, and hill-girt +valleys lying at different elevations, each with its own peculiar climate and +exposure, possess the required conditions for the development of species and +families of plants widely varied. +</p> + +<p> +Next the plain there is, first, a series of smooth hills, planted with a rich +and showy vegetation that differs but little from that of the plain +itself—as if the edge of the plain had been lifted and bent into flowing +folds, with all its flowers in place, only toned down a little as to their +luxuriance, and a few new species introduced, such as the hill lupines, mints, +and gilias. The colors show finely when thus held to view on the slopes; +patches of red, purple, blue, yellow, and white, blending around the edges, the +whole appearing at a little distance like a map colored in sections. +</p> + +<p> +Above this lies the park and chaparral region, with oaks, mostly evergreen, +planted wide apart, and blooming shrubs from three to ten feet high; manzanita +and ceanothus of several species, mixed with rhamnus, cercis, pickeringia, +cherry, amelanchier, and adenostoma, in shaggy, interlocking thickets, and many +species of hosackia, clover, monardella, castilleia, etc., in the openings. +</p> + +<p> +The main ranges send out spurs somewhat parallel to their axes, inclosing level +valleys, many of them quite extensive, and containing a great profusion of +sun-loving bee-flowers in their wild state; but these are, in great part, +already lost to the bees by cultivation. +</p> + +<p> +Nearer the coast are the giant forests of the redwoods, extending from near the +Oregon line to Santa Cruz. Beneath the cool, deep shade of these majestic trees +the ground is occupied by ferns, chiefly woodwardia and aspidiums, with only a +few flowering plants—oxalis, trientalis, erythronium, fritillaria, +smilax, and other shade-lovers. But all along the redwood belt there are sunny +openings on hill-slopes looking to the south, where the giant trees stand back, +and give the ground to the small sunflowers and the bees. Around the lofty +redwood walls of these little bee-acres there is usually a fringe of Chestnut +Oak, Laurel, and Madroño, the last of which is a surpassingly beautiful tree, +and a great favorite with the bees. The trunks of the largest specimens are +seven or eight feet thick, and about fifty feet high; the bark red and +chocolate colored, the leaves plain, large, and glossy, like those of +<i>Magnolia grandiflora</i>, while the flowers are yellowish-white, and +urn-shaped, in well-proportioned panicles, from five to ten inches long. When +in full bloom, a single tree seems to be visited at times by a whole hive of +bees at once, and the deep hum of such a multitude makes the listener guess +that more than the ordinary work of honey-winning must be going on. +</p> + +<p> +How perfectly enchanting and care-obliterating are these withdrawn gardens of +the woods—long vistas opening to the sea—sunshine sifting and +pouring upon the flowery ground in a tremulous, shifting mosaic, as the +light-ways in the leafy wall open and close with the swaying +breeze—shining leaves and flowers, birds and bees, mingling together in +springtime harmony, and soothing fragrance exhaling from a thousand thousand +fountains! In these balmy, dissolving days, when the deep heart-beats of Nature +are felt thrilling rocks and trees and everything alike, common business and +friends are happily forgotten, and even the natural honey-work of bees, and the +care of birds for their young, and mothers for their children, seem slightly +out of place. +</p> + +<p> +To the northward, in Humboldt and the adjacent counties, whole hillsides are +covered with rhododendron, making a glorious melody of bee-bloom in the spring. +And the Western azalea, hardly less flowery, grows in massy thickets three to +eight feet high around the edges of groves and woods as far south as San Luis +Obispo, usually accompanied by manzanita; while the valleys, with their varying +moisture and shade, yield a rich variety of the smaller honey-flowers, such as +mentha, lycopus, micromeria, audibertia, trichostema, and other mints; with +vaccinium, wild strawberry, geranium, calais, and goldenrod; and in the cool +glens along the stream-banks, where the shade of trees is not too deep, +spiraea, dog-wood, heteromeles, and calycanthus, and many species of rubus form +interlacing tangles, some portion of which continues in bloom for months. +</p> + +<p> +Though the coast region was the first to be invaded and settled by white men, +it has suffered less from a bee point of view than either of the other main +divisions, chiefly, no doubt, because of the unevenness of the surface, and +because it is owned and protected instead of lying exposed to the flocks of the +wandering “sheepmen.” These remarks apply more particularly to the +north half of the coast. Farther south there is less moisture, less forest +shade, and the honey flora is less varied. +</p> + +<p> +The Sierra region is the largest of the three main divisions of the bee-lands +of the State, and the most regularly varied in its subdivisions, owing to their +gradual rise from the level of the Central Plain to the alpine summits. The +foot-hill region is about as dry and sunful, from the end of May until the +setting in of the winter rains, as the plain. There are no shady forests, no +damp glens, at all like those lying at the same elevations in the Coast +Mountains. The social compositae of the plain, with a few added species, form +the bulk of the herbaceous portion of the vegetation up to a height of 1500 +feet or more, shaded lightly here and there with oaks and Sabine Pines, and +interrupted by patches of ceanothus and buckeye. Above this, and just below the +forest region, there is a dark, heath-like belt of chaparral, composed almost +exclusively of <i>Adenostoma fasciculata</i>, a bush belonging to the rose +family, from five to eight feet high, with small, round leaves in fascicles, +and bearing a multitude of small white flowers in panicles on the ends of the +upper branches. Where it occurs at all, it usually covers all the ground with a +close, impenetrable growth, scarcely broken for miles. +</p> + +<p> +Up through the forest region, to a height of about 9000 feet above sea-level, +there are ragged patches of manzanita, and five or six species of ceanothus, +called deer-brush or California lilac. These are the most important of all the +honey-bearing bushes of the Sierra. <i>Chamaebatia foliolosa</i>, a little +shrub about a foot high, with flowers like the strawberry, makes handsome +carpets beneath the pines, and seems to be a favorite with the bees; while +pines themselves furnish unlimited quantities of pollen and honey-dew. The +product of a single tree, ripening its pollen at the right time of year, would +be sufficient for the wants of a whole hive. Along the streams there is a rich +growth of lilies, larkspurs, pedicularis, castilleias, and clover. The alpine +region contains the flowery glacier meadows, and countless small gardens in all +sorts of places full of potentilla of several species, spraguea, ivesia, +epilobium, and goldenrod, with beds of bryanthus and the charming cassiope +covered with sweet bells. Even the tops of the mountains are blessed with +flowers,—dwarf phlox, polemonium, ribes, hulsea, etc. I have seen wild +bees and butterflies feeding at a height of 13,000 feet above the sea. Many, +however, that go up these dangerous heights never come down again. Some, +undoubtedly, perish in storms, and I have found thousands lying dead or +benumbed on the surface of the glaciers, to which they had perhaps been +attracted by the white glare, taking them for beds of bloom. +</p> + +<p> +From swarms that escaped their owners in the lowlands, the honey-bee is now +generally distributed throughout the whole length of the Sierra, up to an +elevation of 8000 feet above sea-level. At this height they flourish without +care, though the snow every winter is deep. Even higher than this several +bee-trees have been cut which contained over 200 pounds of honey. +</p> + +<p> +The destructive action of sheep has not been so general on the mountain +pastures as on those of the great plain, but in many places it has been more +complete, owing to the more friable character of the soil, and its sloping +position. The slant digging and down-raking action of hoofs on the steeper +slopes of moraines has uprooted and buried many of the tender plants from year +to year, without allowing them time to mature their seeds. The shrubs, too, are +badly bitten, especially the various species of ceanothus. Fortunately, neither +sheep nor cattle care to feed on the manzanita, spiraea, or adenostoma; and +these fine honey-bushes are too stiff and tall, or grow in places too rough and +inaccessible, to be trodden under foot. Also the cañon walls and gorges, which +form so considerable a part of the area of the range, while inaccessible to +domestic sheep, are well fringed with honey-shrubs, and contain thousands of +lovely bee-gardens, lying hid in narrow side-cañons and recesses fenced with +avalanche taluses, and on the top of flat, projecting headlands, where only +bees would think to look for them. +</p> + +<p> +But, on the other hand, a great portion of the woody plants that escape the +feet and teeth of the sheep are destroyed by the shepherds by means of running +fires, which are set everywhere during the dry autumn for the purpose of +burning off the old fallen trunks and underbrush, with a view to improving the +pastures, and making more open ways for the flocks. These destructive +sheep-fires sweep through nearly the entire forest belt of the range, from one +extremity to the other, consuming not only the underbrush, but the young trees +and seedlings on which the permanence of the forests depends; thus setting in +motion a long train of evils which will certainly reach far beyond bees and +beekeepers. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus62"></a> +<img src="images/img62.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="WILD BEE GARDEN" /> +<p class="caption">WILD BEE GARDEN.</p> +</div> + +<p> +The plow has not yet invaded the forest region to any appreciable extent, +neither has it accomplished much in the foot-hills. Thousands of bee-ranches +might be established along the margin of the plain, and up to a height of 4000 +feet, wherever water could be obtained. The climate at this elevation admits of +the making of permanent homes, and by moving the hives to higher pastures as +the lower pass out of bloom, the annual yield of honey would be nearly doubled. +The foot-hill pastures, as we have seen, fail about the end of May, those of +the chaparral belt and lower forests are in full bloom in June, those of the +upper and alpine region in July, August, and September. In Scotland, after the +best of the Lowland bloom is past, the bees are carried in carts to the +Highlands, and set free on the heather hills. In France, too, and in Poland, +they are carried from pasture to pasture among orchards and fields in the same +way, and along the rivers in barges to collect the honey of the delightful +vegetation of the banks. In Egypt they are taken far up the Nile, and floated +slowly home again, gathering the honey-harvest of the various fields on the +way, timing their movements in accord with the seasons. Were similar methods +pursued in California the productive season would last nearly all the year. +</p> + +<p> +The average elevation of the north half of the Sierra is, as we have seen, +considerably less than that of the south half, and small streams, with the bank +and meadow gardens dependent upon them, are less abundant. Around the head +waters of the Yuba, Feather, and Pitt rivers, the extensive tablelands of lava +are sparsely planted with pines, through which the sunshine reaches the ground +with little interruption. Here flourishes a scattered, tufted growth of golden +applopappus, linosyris, bahia, wyetheia, arnica, artemisia, and similar plants; +with manzanita, cherry, plum, and thorn in ragged patches on the cooler +hill-slopes. At the extremities of the Great Central Plain, the Sierra and +Coast Ranges curve around and lock together in a labyrinth of mountains and +valleys, throughout which their floras are mingled, making at the north, with +its temperate climate and copious rainfall, a perfect paradise for bees, +though, strange to say, scarcely a single regular bee-ranch has yet been +established in it. +</p> + +<p> +Of all the upper flower fields of the Sierra, Shasta is the most honeyful, and +may yet surpass in fame the celebrated honey hills of Hybla and hearthy +Hymettus. Regarding this noble mountain from a bee point of view, encircled by +its many climates, and sweeping aloft from the torrid plain into the frosty +azure, we find the first 5000 feet from the summit generally snow-clad, and +therefore about as honeyless as the sea. The base of this arctic region is +girdled by a belt of crumbling lava measuring about 1000 feet in vertical +breadth, and is mostly free from snow in summer. Beautiful lichens enliven the +faces of the cliffs with their bright colors, and in some of the warmer nooks +there are a few tufts of alpine daisies, wall-flowers and pentstemons; but, +notwithstanding these bloom freely in the late summer, the zone as a whole is +almost as honeyless as the icy summit, and its lower edge may be taken as the +honey-line. Immediately below this comes the forest zone, covered with a rich +growth of conifers, chiefly Silver Firs, rich in pollen and honey-dew, and +diversified with countless garden openings, many of them less than a hundred +yards across. Next, in orderly succession, comes the great bee zone. Its area +far surpasses that of the icy summit and both the other zones combined, for it +goes sweeping majestically around the entire mountain, with a breadth of six or +seven miles and a circumference of nearly a hundred miles. +</p> + +<p> +Shasta, as we have already seen, is a fire-mountain created by a succession of +eruptions of ashes and molten lava, which, flowing over the lips of its several +craters, grew outward and upward like the trunk of a knotty exogenous tree. +Then followed a strange contrast. The glacial winter came on, loading the +cooling mountain with ice, which flowed slowly outward in every direction, +radiating from the summit in the form of one vast conical glacier—a +down-crawling mantle of ice upon a fountain of smoldering fire, crushing and +grinding for centuries its brown, flinty lavas with incessant activity, and +thus degrading and remodeling the entire mountain. When, at length, the glacial +period began to draw near its close, the ice-mantle was gradually melted off +around the bottom, and, in receding and breaking into its present fragmentary +condition, irregular rings and heaps of moraine matter were stored upon its +flanks. The glacial erosion of most of the Shasta lavas produces detritus, +composed of rough, sub-angular boulders of moderate size and of porous gravel +and sand, which yields freely to the transporting power of running water. +Magnificent floods from the ample fountains of ice and snow working with +sublime energy upon this prepared glacial detritus, sorted it out and carried +down immense quantities from the higher slopes, and reformed it in smooth, +delta-like beds around the base; and it is these flood-beds joined together +that now form the main honey-zone of the old volcano. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, by forces seemingly antagonistic and destructive, has Mother Nature +accomplished her beneficent designs—now a flood of fire, now a flood of +ice, now a flood of water; and at length an outburst of organic life, a milky +way of snowy petals and wings, girdling the rugged mountain like a cloud, as if +the vivifying sunbeams beating against its sides had broken into a foam of +plant-bloom and bees, as sea-waves break and bloom on a rock shore. +</p> + +<p> +In this flowery wilderness the bees rove and revel, rejoicing in the bounty of +the sun, clambering eagerly through bramble and hucklebloom, ringing the myriad +bells of the manzanita, now humming aloft among polleny willows and firs, now +down on the ashy ground among gilias and buttercups, and anon plunging deep +into snowy banks of cherry and buckthorn. They consider the lilies and roll +into them, and, like lilies, they toil not, for they are impelled by sun-power, +as water-wheels by water-power; and when the one has plenty of high-pressure +water, the other plenty of sunshine, they hum and quiver alike. Sauntering in +the Shasta bee-lands in the sun-days of summer, one may readily infer the time +of day from the comparative energy of bee-movements alone—drowsy and +moderate in the cool of the morning, increasing in energy with the ascending +sun, and, at high noon, thrilling and quivering in wild ecstasy, then gradually +declining again to the stillness of night. In my excursions among the glaciers +I occasionally meet bees that are hungry, like mountaineers who venture too far +and remain too long above the bread-line; then they droop and wither like +autumn leaves. The Shasta bees are perhaps better fed than any others in the +Sierra. Their field-work is one perpetual feast; but, however exhilarating the +sunshine or bountiful the supply of flowers, they are always dainty feeders. +Humming-moths and hummingbirds seldom set foot upon a flower, but poise on the +wing in front of it, and reach forward as if they were sucking through straws. +But bees, though, as dainty as they, hug their favorite flowers with profound +cordiality, and push their blunt, polleny faces against them, like babies on +their mother’s bosom. And fondly, too, with eternal love, does Mother +Nature clasp her small bee-babies, and suckle them, multitudes at once, on her +warm Shasta breast. +</p> + +<p> +Besides the common honey-bee there are many other species here—fine +mossy, burly fellows, who were nourished on the mountains thousands of sunny +seasons before the advent of the domestic species. Among these are the +bumblebees, mason-bees, carpenter-bees, and leaf-cutters. Butterflies, too, and +moths of every size and pattern; some broad-winged like bats, flapping slowly, +and sailing in easy curves; others like small, flying violets, shaking about +loosely in short, crooked flights close to the flowers, feasting luxuriously +night and day. Great numbers of deer also delight to dwell in the brushy +portions of the bee-pastures. +</p> + +<p> +Bears, too, roam the sweet wilderness, their blunt, shaggy forms harmonizing +well with the trees and tangled bushes, and with the bees, also, +notwithstanding the disparity in size. They are fond of all good things, and +enjoy them to the utmost, with but little troublesome +discrimination—flowers and leaves as well as berries, and the bees +themselves as well as their honey. Though the California bears have as yet had +but little experience with honeybees, they often succeed in reaching their +bountiful stores, and it seems doubtful whether bees themselves enjoy honey +with so great a relish. By means of their powerful teeth and claws they can +gnaw and tear open almost any hive conveniently accessible. Most honey-bees, +however, in search of a home are wise enough to make choice of a hollow in a +living tree, a considerable distance above the ground, when such places are to +be had; then they are pretty secure, for though the smaller black and brown +bears climb well, they are unable to break into strong hives while compelled to +exert themselves to keep from falling, and at the same time to endure the +stings of the fighting bees without having their paws free to rub them off. But +woe to the black bumblebees discovered in their mossy nests in the ground! With +a few strokes of their huge paws the bears uncover the entire establishment, +and, before time is given for a general buzz, bees old and young, larvae, +honey, stings, nest, and all are taken in one ravishing mouthful. +</p> + +<p> +Not the least influential of the agents concerned in the superior sweetness of +the Shasta flora are its storms—storms I mean that are strictly local, +bred and born on the mountain. The magical rapidity with which they are grown +on the mountain-top, and bestow their charity in rain and snow, never fails to +astonish the inexperienced lowlander. Often in calm, glowing days, while the +bees are still on the wing, a storm-cloud may be seen far above in the pure +ether, swelling its pearl bosses, and growing silently, like a plant. Presently +a clear, ringing discharge of thunder is heard, followed by a rush of wind that +comes sounding over the bending woods like the roar of the ocean, mingling +raindrops, snow-flowers, honey-flowers, and bees in wild storm harmony. +</p> + +<p> +Still more impressive are the warm, reviving days of spring in the mountain +pastures. The blood of the plants throbbing beneath the life-giving sunshine +seems to be heard and felt. Plant growth goes on before our eyes, and every +tree in the woods, and every bush and flower is seen as a hive of restless +industry. The deeps of the sky are mottled with singing wings of every tone and +color; clouds of brilliant chrysididae dancing and swirling in exquisite +rhythm, golden-barred vespidae, dragon-flies, butterflies, grating cicadas, and +jolly, rattling grasshoppers, fairly enameling the light. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus63"></a> +<img src="images/img63.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="IN THE SAN GABRIEL VALLEY.—WHITE SAGE" /> +<p class="caption">IN THE SAN GABRIEL VALLEY.—WHITE SAGE.</p> +</div> + +<p> +On bright, crisp mornings a striking optical effect may frequently be observed +from the shadows of the higher mountains while the sunbeams are pouring past +overhead. Then every insect, no matter what may be its own proper color, burns +white in the light. Gauzy-winged hymenoptera, moths, jet-black beetles, all are +transfigured alike in pure, spiritual white, like snowflakes. +</p> + +<p> +In Southern California, where bee-culture has had so much skilful attention of +late years, the pasturage is not more abundant, or more advantageously varied +as to the number of its honey-plants and their distribution over mountain and +plain, than that of many other portions of the State where the industrial +currents flow in other channels. The famous White Sage (<i>Audibertia</i>), +belonging to the mint family, flourishes here in all its glory, blooming in +May, and yielding great quantities of clear, pale honey, which is greatly +prized in every market it has yet reached. This species grows chiefly in the +valleys and low hills. The Black Sage on the mountains is part of a dense, +thorny chaparral, which is composed chiefly of adenostoma, ceanothus, +manzanita, and cherry—not differing greatly from that of the southern +portion of the Sierra, but more dense and continuous, and taller, and remaining +longer in bloom. Stream-side gardens, so charming a feature of both the Sierra +and Coast Mountains, are less numerous in Southern California, but they are +exceedingly rich in honey-flowers, wherever found,—melilotus, columbine, +collinsia, verbena, zauschneria, wild rose, honeysuckle, philadelphus, and +lilies rising from the warm, moist dells in a very storm of exuberance. Wild +buckwheat of many species is developed in abundance over the dry, sandy valleys +and lower slopes of the mountains, toward the end of summer, and is, at this +time, the main dependence of the bees, reinforced here and there by orange +groves, alfalfa fields, and small home gardens. +</p> + +<p> +The main honey months, in ordinary seasons, are April, May, June, July, and +August; while the other months are usually flowery enough to yield sufficient +for the bees. +</p> + +<p> +According to Mr. J.T. Gordon, President of the Los Angeles County +Bee-keepers’ Association, the first bees introduced into the county were +a single hive, which cost $150 in San Francisco, and arrived in September, +1854.<a href="#linknote-3" name="linknoteref-3"><sup>[1]</sup></a> In April, of +the following year, this hive sent out two swarms, which were sold for $100 +each. From this small beginning the bees gradually multiplied to about 3000 +swarms in the year 1873. In 1876 it was estimated that there were between +15,000 and 20,000 hives in the county, producing an annual yield of about 100 +pounds to the hive—in some exceptional cases, a much greater yield. +</p> + +<p> +In San Diego County, at the beginning of the season of 1878, there were about +24,000 hives, and the shipments from the one port of San Diego for the same +year, from July 17 to November 10, were 1071 barrels, 15,544 cases, and nearly +90 tons. The largest bee-ranches have about a thousand hives, and are carefully +and skilfully managed, every scientific appliance of merit being brought into +use. There are few bee-keepers, however, who own half as many as this, or who +give their undivided attention to the business. Orange culture, at present, is +heavily overshadowing every other business. +</p> + +<p> +A good many of the so-called bee-ranches of Los Angeles and San Diego counties +are still of the rudest pioneer kind imaginable. A man unsuccessful in +everything else hears the interesting story of the profits and comforts of +bee-keeping, and concludes to try it; he buys a few colonies, or gets them, +from some overstocked ranch on shares, takes them back to the foot of some +cañon, where the pasturage is fresh, squats on the land, with, or without, the +permission of the owner, sets up his hives, makes a box-cabin for himself, +scarcely bigger than a bee-hive, and awaits his fortune. +</p> + +<p> +Bees suffer sadly from famine during the dry years which occasionally occur in +the southern and middle portions of the State. If the rainfall amounts only to +three or four inches, instead of from twelve to twenty, as in ordinary seasons, +then sheep and cattle die in thousands, and so do these small, winged cattle, +unless they are carefully fed, or removed to other pastures. The year 1877 will +long be remembered as exceptionally rainless and distressing. Scarcely a flower +bloomed on the dry valleys away from the stream-sides, and not a single +grain-field depending upon rain was reaped. The seed only sprouted, came up a +little way, and withered. Horses, cattle, and sheep grew thinner day by day, +nibbling at bushes and weeds, along the shallowing edges of streams, many of +which were dried up altogether, for the first time since the settlement of the +country. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus64"></a> +<img src="images/img64.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A BEE-RANCH ON A +SPUR OF THE SAN GABRIEL RANGE. CARDINAL FLOWER" /> +<p class="caption">A BEE-RANCH ON A SPUR OF THE SAN GABRIEL RANGE. CARDINAL FLOWER.</p> +</div> + +<p> +In the course of a trip I made during the summer of that year through Monterey, +San Luis Obispo, Santa Barbara, Ventura, and Los Angeles counties, the +deplorable effects of the drought were everywhere visible—leafless +fields, dead and dying cattle, dead bees, and half-dead people with dusty, +doleful faces. Even the birds and squirrels were in distress, though their +suffering was less painfully apparent than that of the poor cattle. These were +falling one by one in slow, sure starvation along the banks of the hot, +sluggish streams, while thousands of buzzards correspondingly fat were sailing +above them, or standing gorged on the ground beneath the trees, waiting with +easy faith for fresh carcasses. The quails, prudently considering the hard +times, abandoned all thought of pairing. They were too poor to marry, and so +continued in flocks all through the year without attempting to rear young. The +ground-squirrels, though an exceptionally industrious and enterprising race, as +every farmer knows, were hard pushed for a living; not a fresh leaf or seed was +to be found save in the trees, whose bossy masses of dark green foliage +presented a striking contrast to the ashen baldness of the ground beneath them. +The squirrels, leaving their accustomed feeding-grounds, betook themselves to +the leafy oaks to gnaw out the acorn stores of the provident woodpeckers, but +the latter kept up a vigilant watch upon their movements. I noticed four +woodpeckers in league against one squirrel, driving the poor fellow out of an +oak that they claimed. He dodged round the knotty trunk from side to side, as +nimbly as he could in his famished condition, only to find a sharp bill +everywhere. But the fate of the bees that year seemed the saddest of all. In +different portions of Los Angeles and San Diego counties, from one half to +three fourths of them died of sheer starvation. Not less than 18,000 colonies +perished in these two counties alone, while in the adjacent counties the +death-rate was hardly less. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<a name="illus65"></a> +<img src="images/img65.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="WILD BUCKWHEAT.—A BEE RANCH IN THE WILDERNESS" /> +<p class="caption">WILD BUCKWHEAT.—A BEE RANCH IN THE WILDERNESS.</p> +</div> + +<p> +Even the colonies nearest to the mountains suffered this year, for the smaller +vegetation on the foot-hills was affected by the drought almost as severely as +that of the valleys and plains, and even the hardy, deep-rooted chaparral, the +surest dependence of the bees, bloomed sparingly, while much of it was beyond +reach. Every swarm could have been saved, however, by promptly supplying them +with food when their own stores began to fail, and before they became enfeebled +and discouraged; or by cutting roads back into the mountains, and taking them +into the heart of the flowery chaparral. The Santa Lucia, San Rafael, San +Gabriel, San Jacinto, and San Bernardino ranges are almost untouched as yet +save by the wild bees. Some idea of their resources, and of the advantages and +disadvantages they offer to bee-keepers, may be formed from an excursion that I +made into the San Gabriel Range about the beginning of August of “the dry +year.” This range, containing most of the characteristic features of the +other ranges just mentioned, overlooks the Los Angeles vineyards and orange +groves from the north, and is more rigidly inaccessible in the ordinary meaning +of the word than any other that I ever attempted to penetrate. The slopes are +exceptionally steep and insecure to the foot, and they are covered with thorny +bushes from five to ten feet high. With the exception of little spots not +visible in general views, the entire surface is covered with them, massed in +close hedge growth, sweeping gracefully down into every gorge and hollow, and +swelling over every ridge and summit in shaggy, ungovernable exuberance, +offering more honey to the acre for half the year than the most crowded +clover-field. But when beheld from the open San Gabriel Valley, beaten with dry +sunshine, all that was seen of the range seemed to wear a forbidding aspect. +From base to summit all seemed gray, barren, silent, its glorious chaparral +appearing like dry moss creeping over its dull, wrinkled ridges and hollows. +</p> + +<p> +Setting out from Pasadena, I reached the foot of the range about sundown; and +being weary and heated with my walk across the shadeless valley, concluded to +camp for the night. After resting a few moments, I began to look about among +the flood-boulders of Eaton Creek for a camp-ground, when I came upon a +strange, dark-looking man who had been chopping cord-wood. He seemed surprised +at seeing me, so I sat down with him on the live-oak log he had been cutting, +and made haste to give a reason for my appearance in his solitude, explaining +that I was anxious to find out something about the mountains, and meant to make +my way up Eaton Creek next morning. Then he kindly invited me to camp with him, +and led me to his little cabin, situated at the foot of the mountains, where a +small spring oozes out of a bank overgrown with wild-rose bushes. After supper, +when the daylight was gone, he explained that he was out of candles; so we sat +in the dark, while he gave me a sketch of his life in a mixture of Spanish and +English. He was born in Mexico, his father Irish, his mother Spanish. He had +been a miner, rancher, prospector, hunter, etc., rambling always, and wearing +his life away in mere waste; but now he was going to settle down. His past +life, he said, was of “no account,” but the future was promising. +He was going to “make money and marry a Spanish woman.” People mine +here for water as for gold. He had been running a tunnel into a spur of the +mountain back of his cabin. “My prospect is good,” he said, +“and if I chance to strike a good, strong flow, I’ll soon be worth +$5000 or $10,000. For that flat out there,” referring to a small, +irregular patch of bouldery detritus, two or three acres in size, that had been +deposited by Eaton Creek during some flood season,—“that flat is +large enough for a nice orange-grove, and the bank behind the cabin will do for +a vineyard, and after watering my own trees and vines I will have some water +left to sell to my neighbors below me, down the valley. And then,” he +continued, “I can keep bees, and make money that way, too, for the +mountains above here are just full of honey in the summer-time, and one of my +neighbors down here says that he will let me have a whole lot of hives, on +shares, to start with. You see I’ve a good thing; I’m all right +now.” All this prospective affluence in the sunken, boulder-choked +flood-bed of a mountain-stream! Leaving the bees out of the count, most +fortune-seekers would as soon think of settling on the summit of Mount Shasta. +Next morning, wishing my hopeful entertainer good luck, I set out on my shaggy +excursion. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus66"></a> +<img src="images/img66.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A BEE-PASTURE ON THE MORAINE DESERT, SPANISH BAYONET" /> +<p class="caption">A BEE-PASTURE ON THE MORAINE DESERT, SPANISH BAYONET.</p> +</div> + +<p> +About half an hour’s walk above the cabin, I came to “The +Fall,” famous throughout the valley settlements as the finest yet +discovered in the San Gabriel Mountains. It is a charming little thing, with a +low, sweet voice, singing like a bird, as it pours from a notch in a short +ledge, some thirty-five or forty feet into a round mirror-pool. The face of the +cliff back of it, and on both sides, is smoothly covered and embossed with +mosses, against which the white water shines out in showy relief, like a silver +instrument in a velvet case. Hither come the San Gabriel lads and lassies, to +gather ferns and dabble away their hot holidays in the cool water, glad to +escape from their commonplace palm-gardens and orange-groves. The delicate +maidenhair grows on fissured rocks within reach of the spray, while +broad-leaved maples and sycamores cast soft, mellow shade over a rich profusion +of bee-flowers, growing among boulders in front of the pool—the fall, the +flowers, the bees, the ferny rocks, and leafy shade forming a charming little +poem of wildness, the last of a series extending down the flowery slopes of +Mount San Antonio through the rugged, foam-beaten bosses of the main Eaton +Canon. +</p> + +<p> +From the base of the fall I followed the ridge that forms the western rim of +the Eaton basin to the summit of one of the principal peaks, which is about +5000 feet above sea-level. Then, turning eastward, I crossed the middle of the +basin, forcing a way over its many subordinate ridges and across its eastern +rim, having to contend almost everywhere with the floweriest and most +impenetrable growth of honey-bushes I had ever encountered since first my +mountaineering began. Most of the Shasta chaparral is leafy nearly to the +ground; here the main stems are naked for three or four feet, and interspiked +with dead twigs, forming a stiff <i>chevaux de frise</i> through which even the +bears make their way with difficulty. I was compelled to creep for miles on all +fours, and in following the bear-trails often found tufts of hair on the bushes +where they had forced themselves through. +</p> + +<p> +For 100 feet or so above the fall the ascent was made possible only by tough +cushions of club-moss that clung to the rock. Above this the ridge weathers +away to a thin knife-blade for a few hundred yards, and thence to the summit of +the range it carries a bristly mane of chaparral. Here and there small openings +occur on rocky places, commanding fine views across the cultivated valley to +the ocean. These I found by the tracks were favorite outlooks and +resting-places for the wild animals—bears, wolves, foxes, wildcats, +etc.—which abound here, and would have to be taken into account in the +establishment of bee-ranches. In the deepest thickets I found wood-rat +villages—groups of huts four to six feet high, built of sticks and leaves +in rough, tapering piles, like musk-rat cabins. I noticed a good many bees, +too, most of them wild. The tame honey-bees seemed languid and wing-weary, as +if they had come all the way up from the flowerless valley. +</p> + +<p> +After reaching the summit I had time to make only a hasty survey of the basin, +now glowing in the sunset gold, before hastening down into one of the tributary +cañons in search, of water. Emerging from a particularly tedious breadth of +chaparral, I found myself free and erect in a beautiful park-like grove of +Mountain Live Oak, where the ground was planted with aspidiums and brier-roses, +while the glossy foliage made a close canopy overhead, leaving the gray +dividing trunks bare to show the beauty of their interlacing arches. The bottom +of the cañon was dry where I first reached it, but a bunch of scarlet mimulus +indicated water at no great distance, and I soon discovered about a bucketful +in a hollow of the rock. This, however, was full of dead bees, wasps, beetles, +and leaves, well steeped and simmered, and would, therefore, require boiling +and filtering through fresh charcoal before it could be made available. Tracing +the dry channel about a mile farther down to its junction with a larger +tributary cañon, I at length discovered a lot of boulder pools, clear as +crystal, brimming full, and linked together by glistening streamlets just +strong enough to sing audibly. Flowers in full bloom adorned their margins, +lilies ten feet high, larkspur, columbines, and luxuriant ferns, leaning and +overarching in lavish abundance, while a noble old Live Oak spread its rugged +arms over all. Here I camped, making my bed on smooth cobblestones. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> +<a name="illus67"></a> +<img src="images/img67.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="A BEE-KEEPER’S +CABIN.—BURRIELIA (ABOVE).—MADIA (BELOW)" /> +<p class="caption">A BEE-KEEPER’S CABIN.—BURRIELIA (ABOVE).—MADIA (BELOW).</p> +</div> + +<p> +Next day, in the channel of a tributary that heads on Mount San Antonio, I +passed about fifteen or twenty gardens like the one in which I +slept—lilies in every one of them, in the full pomp of bloom. My third +camp was made near the middle of the general basin, at the head of a long +system of cascades from ten to 200 feet high, one following the other in close +succession down a rocky, inaccessible cañon, making a total descent of nearly +1700 feet. Above the cascades the main stream passes through a series of open, +sunny levels, the largest of which are about an acre in size, where the wild +bees and their companions were feasting on a showy growth of zauschneria, +painted cups, and monardella; and gray squirrels were busy harvesting the burs +of the Douglas Spruce, the only conifer I met in the basin. +</p> + +<p> +The eastern slopes of the basin are in every way similar to those we have +described, and the same may be said of other portions of the range. From the +highest summit, far as the eye could reach, the landscape was one vast +bee-pasture, a rolling wilderness of honey-bloom, scarcely broken by bits of +forest or the rocky outcrops of hilltops and ridges. +</p> + +<p> +Behind the San Bernardino Range lies the wild “sage-brush country,” +bounded on the east by the Colorado River, and extending in a general northerly +direction to Nevada and along the eastern base of the Sierra beyond Mono Lake. +</p> + +<p> +The greater portion of this immense region, including Owen’s Valley, +Death Valley, and the Sink of the Mohave, the area of which is nearly one fifth +that of the entire State, is usually regarded as a desert, not because of any +lack in the soil, but for want of rain, and rivers available for irrigation. +Very little of it, however, is desert in the eyes of a bee. +</p> + +<p> +Looking now over all the available pastures of California, it appears that the +business of beekeeping is still in its infancy. Even in the more enterprising +of the southern counties, where so vigorous a beginning has been made, less +than a tenth of their honey resources have as yet been developed; while in the +Great Plain, the Coast Ranges, the Sierra Nevada, and the northern region about +Mount Shasta, the business can hardly be said to exist at all. What the limits +of its developments in the future may be, with the advantages of cheaper +transportation and the invention of better methods in general, it is not easy +to guess. Nor, on the other hand, are we able to measure the influence on bee +interests likely to follow the destruction of the forests, now rapidly falling +before fire and the ax. As to the sheep evil, that can hardly become greater +than it is at the present day. In short, notwithstanding the wide-spread +deterioration and destruction of every kind already effected, California, with +her incomparable climate and flora, is still, as far as I know, the best of all +the bee-lands of the world. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="linknote-3" id="linknote-3"></a> <a href="#linknoteref-3">[1]</a> +Fifteen hives of Italian bees were introduced into Los Angeles County in 1855, +and in 1876 they had increased to 500. The marked superiority claimed for them +over the common species is now attracting considerable attention. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOUNTAINS OF CALIFORNIA ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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