a place called Clark's, the name of the person who keeps the hotel,
and which is the only dwelling-house in the neighborhood. The stage is
drawn upwards over a precipitous, winding road, by relays of six stout
horses, to an elevation of seven thousand feet, leaving behind nearly
all signs of human habitation. A mournful air of loneliness surrounds us
as we creep slowly towards the summit; but how grand and inspiring are
the views which are seen from the various points! One falls to analyzing
the natural architecture of these mountain peaks, gulches, and cliffs,
fancy making out at times well-defined Roman circuses; again,
castellated crags come into view, resembling half-ruined castles on the
Rhine; other crags are like Turkish minarets, while some rocky ranges
are dome-capped like St. Peter's at Rome. Far below them all we catch
glimpses of dark ravines of unknown depths, where lonely mist-wreaths
rest like snow-drifts.
Nestling beside the roadway, there are seen here and there pale
wild-flowers surrounded by vigorous ferns and creeping vines, showing
that even here, in these lofty and deserted regions, Nature has her
poetic moods. Birds almost entirely disappear at these altitudes,
preferring the more genial atmosphere of the plains, though now and
again an eagle, with broad spread pinions, is seen to swoop gracefully
from the top of some lonely pine, and sail with unmoving wings far away
across the depth of the valley until hidden by the windings of the
gorge. Even the presence of this proud and kingly bird but serves to
emphasize the loneliness of these silent heights.
[Illustration: MIRROR LAKE, YOSEMITE VALLEY.]
By and by the loftiest portion of the road is reached at what is known
as Inspiration Point, whence a comprehensive view is afforded of the
far-famed valley. Though we stand here at an elevation of over seven
thousand feet above the plains so lately crossed, still the Yosemite
Valley, into which we are gazing with awe and admiration, is but about
three thousand five hundred feet below us. It runs east and west,
appearing quite contracted from this great height, but is eight miles
long by over one in width. On either side rise vertical cliffs of
granite, varying from three to four thousand feet in height, several of
the lofty gorges discharging narrow but strikingly beautiful and
transparent water-falls. Upon descending into the valley, we find
ourselves surrounded by precipitous mountains, nearly a s
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