es is still grooved and polished; the lapping of the
waves and their disintegrating action have not as yet obliterated even
the superficial marks of glaciation. In climbing the steepest polished
places I had to take off shoes and stockings. A fine region this for
study of glacial action in mountain-making. I found many charming
plants: arctic daisies, phlox, white spiraea, bryanthus, and
rock-ferns,--pellaea, cheilanthes, allosorus,--fringing weathered seams
all the way up to the summit; and sturdy junipers, grand old gray and
brown monuments, stood bravely erect on fissured spots here and there,
telling storm and avalanche stories of hundreds of winters. The view of
the lake from the top is, I think, the best of all. There is another
rock, more striking in form than this, standing isolated at the head
of the lake, but it is not more than half as high. It is a knob or knot
of burnished granite, perhaps about a thousand feet high, apparently as
flawless and strong in structure as a wave-worn pebble, and probably
owes its existence to the superior resistance it offered to the action
of the overflowing ice-flood.

Made sketch of the lake, and sauntered back to camp, my iron-shod shoes
clanking on the pavements disturbing the chipmunks and birds. After dark
went out to the shore,--not a breath of air astir, the lake a perfect
mirror reflecting the sky and mountains with their stars and trees and
wonderful sculpture, all their grandeur refined and doubled,--a
marvelously impressive picture, that seemed to belong more to heaven
than earth.

_August 9._ I went ahead of the flock, and crossed over the divide
between the Merced and Tuolumne Basins. The gap between the east end of
the Hoffman spur and the mass of mountain rocks about Cathedral Peak,
though roughened by ridges and waving folds, seems to be one of the
channels of a broad ancient glacier that came from the mountains on the
summit of the range. In crossing this divide the ice-river made an
ascent of about five hundred feet from the Tuolumne meadows. This entire
region must have been overswept by ice.

From the top of the divide, and also from the big Tuolumne Meadows, the
wonderful mountain called Cathedral Peak is in sight. From every point
of view it shows marked individuality. It is a majestic temple of one
stone, hewn from the living rock, and adorned with spires and pinnacles
in regular cathedral style. The dwarf pines on the roof look like
mosses. I hope som