, to Hopeton, conscious
of little more than that the town was behind and beneath me, and the
mountains above and before me; on through the oaks and chaparral of the
foothills to Coulterville; and then ascended the first great mountain
step upon which grows the sugar pine. Here I slackened pace, for I drank
the spicy, resiny wind, and beneath the arms of this noble tree I felt
that I was safely home. Never did pine trees seem so dear. How sweet was
their breath and their song, and how grandly they winnowed the sky! I
tingled my fingers among their tassels, and rustled my feet among their
brown needles and burrs, and was exhilarated and joyful beyond all I can
write.

When I reached Yosemite, all the rocks seemed talkative, and more
telling and lovable than ever. They are dear friends, and seemed to have
warm blood gushing through their granite flesh; and I love them with a
love intensified by long and close companionship. After I had bathed in
the bright river, sauntered over the meadows, conversed with the domes,
and played with the pines, I still felt blurred and weary, as if tainted
in some way with the sky of your streets. I determined, therefore, to
run out for a while to say my prayers in the higher mountain temples.
"The days are sunful," I said, "and, though now winter, no great danger
need be encountered, and no sudden storm will block my return, if I am
watchful."

The morning after this decision, I started up the canyon of Tenaya,
caring little about the quantity of bread I carried; for, I thought, a
fast and a storm and a difficult canyon were just the medicine I needed.
When I passed Mirror Lake, I scarcely noticed it, for I was absorbed
in the great Tissiack--her crown a mile away in the hushed azure; her
purple granite drapery flowing in soft and graceful folds down to my
feet, embroidered gloriously around with deep, shadowy forest. I have
gazed on Tissiack a thousand times--in days of solemn storms, and when
her form shone divine with the jewelry of winter, or was veiled in
living clouds; and I have heard her voice of winds, and snowy, tuneful
waters when floods were falling; yet never did her soul reveal itself
more impressively than now. I hung about her skirts, lingering timidly,
until the higher mountains and glaciers compelled me to push up the
canyon.

This canyon is accessible only to mountaineers, and I was anxious to
carry my barometer and clinometer through it, to obtain sections and
altitu