mne. This is the best
known and most extensively traveled of all that exist in the High
Sierra. A trail was made through it about the time of the Mono gold
excitement, in the year 1858, by adventurous miners and prospectors--men
who would build a trail down the throat of darkest Erebus on the way to
gold. Though more than a thousand feet lower than the Kearsarge, it is
scarcely less sublime in rock-scenery, while in snowy, falling water it
far surpasses it. Being so favorably situated for the stream of Yosemite
travel, the more adventurous tourists cross over through this glorious
gateway to the volcanic region around Mono Lake. It has therefore gained
a name and fame above every other pass in the range. According to the
few barometrical observations made upon it, its highest point is 10,765
feet above the sea. The other pass of the five we have been considering
is somewhat lower, and crosses the axis of the range a few miles to the
north of the Mono Pass, at the head of the southernmost tributary of
Walker's River. It is used chiefly by roaming bands of the Pah Ute
Indians and "sheepmen."

But, leaving wheels and animals out of the question, the free
mountaineer with a sack of bread on his shoulders and an ax to cut steps
in ice and frozen snow can make his way across the range almost
everywhere, and at any time of year when the weather is calm. To him
nearly every notch between the peaks is a pass, though much patient
step-cutting is at times required up and down steeply inclined glaciers,
with cautious climbing over precipices that at first sight would seem
hopelessly inaccessible.

In pursuing my studies, I have crossed from side to side of the range at
intervals of a few miles all along the highest portion of the chain,
with far less real danger than one would naturally count on. And what
fine wildness was thus revealed--storms and avalanches, lakes and
waterfalls, gardens and meadows, and interesting animals--only those
will ever know who give the freest and most buoyant portion of their
lives to climbing and seeing for themselves.

To the timid traveler, fresh from the sedimentary levels of the
lowlands, these highways, however picturesque and grand, seem terribly
forbidding--cold, dead, gloomy gashes in the bones of the mountains, and
of all Nature's ways the ones to be most cautiously avoided. Yet they
are full of the finest and most telling examples of Nature's love; and
though hard to travel, none are safe