forward with the game, while
Mariposa, Red Cloud, and three Yosemite braves with their ponies, waited
for the handsome pale face to recover partially. Then they rode with
Alfonso among the Big Trees, past Wawona, toiling up long valleys,
stopping now and then to cook simple food. The Indians followed a
familiar trail up dark gulches, along steep grades, through heavy timber,
skirting edges of cliffs and precipitous mountains, the ruggedness
constantly increasing, till suddenly Mariposa conducted Alfonso to a high
point where his soul was filled with enthusiasm. Mariposa, pointing to
the gorge or canyon of extraordinary depth, which was floored with forest
trees and adorned with waterfalls, said, "Here in the Yosemite (grizzly)
Valley is the home of my people. Here we wish to take you until you are
well. Will you go?"

Alfonso, still weak and pale, but trusting the Indian girl, replied
"Yes." The young artist-miner had never seen such stupendous masonry; the
granite walls that surrounded the valley were a succession of peaks and
domes, from three thousand to four thousand feet high, all eloquent in
thought and design. Alfonso began sketching, but Mariposa motioned him
to put his paper aside, and the six Indian ponies with their burdens
carefully picked their way into the paradise below.

Red Cloud, Mariposa, Alfonso, and the braves were received with
expressions of joy unusual for the stolid red men, and Alfonso was given
a tent to himself near the chief's big tepee, close by a broad clear
stream, and in the shadow of large old oaks. Here for several days
Alfonso tarried, grew stronger, and often walked with pretty Mariposa.
She taught him a novel method of trapping trout which thronged the river.
She had him sketch the reflection in Mirror Lake of cathedral spires and
domes, of overhanging granite rocks, and tall peaks of wildest grandeur.

He also sketched several waterfalls fed by melting snow. Mariposa's
favorite falls at the entrance to the valley made a single leap of
hundreds of feet, and when the white spray was caught by the breezes and
the sun, the lace-like mist, sparkling like diamonds, swayed gracefully
in the winds like a royal bridal veil. "The highest of a series of
cascades," Mariposa said, "was called 'The Yosemite Falls.'"

Here eagles soar above the Cap of Liberty and other granite peaks.
Robins, larks, and humming birds swarm in the warm valley, and abundance
of grass grows in the meadows for the