lly, in all its
combinations, with the wonderful Canyon of the Yosemite. It is a matter
of congratulation, also, to me, that I saw it before any road, or coach,
or rail-car had approached it. It ought not to be visited otherwise than
as our party journeyed to it,--on horses winding in picturesque train
over velvety trails, beneath the gigantic pines of the Sierras....

Among all my many travelling experiences in various countries, I do not
think I can ever forget the romance and the delicious beauty of that
first night's ride towards the Yosemite. The trail was barely wide
enough for two to ride abreast, winding under majestic pines, over
mountains, and down wide, deep dells, each step of the horses springing
elastic from soft pine-leaves. The sun soon set, and a magnificent moon
arose, giving us at one time a broad belt of light over the path, and
then leaving us to descend into a mysterious gulf of darkness, and then
casting strange shadows and half-lights through the pine-branches over
our procession of riders. As we penetrated farther into the forest we
began to wind about beneath trees such as few of us had ever seen,--the
superb sugar-pine, perhaps the most perfect tree in nature, here
starting with a diameter of from seven to twelve feet, and mounting up
with most symmetrical branches to the height say of Trinity Church spire
(two hundred and fifty to two hundred and sixty feet); on the ends of
its branches cones hanging a foot long. Sometimes we came forth from the
forest for a few moments, and had grand glimpses of great mountain
valleys, only partly revealed in the glorious moonlight. Most of the
party were old travellers, and were rather impervious to sensations,
but we all agreed that this was a new one, and gave a most promising
augury of the Yosemite excursion. After fourteen miles--an easy ride--we
all reached Clark's Ranch at a late hour, ready for supper and bed.

[The next morning] we started at not too early an hour for a forest-ride
to the Trees, Mr. Clark kindly guiding us. What may be called the avenue
to these hoary monuments of antiquity lies through a gigantic forest of
sugar-pines, themselves some two hundred to two hundred and fifty feet
high; so that when you reach the mighty towers of vegetation you lose a
little the sense of their vast height. I searched curiously as we rode
through the forest for the conditions which should produce such monsters
of growth. It must be remembered that the _S