A NEAR VIEW OF THE HIGH SIERRA 51 



with me, is any time. And, strange to say, among 

 the first people I met here were two artists who, 

 with letters of introduction, were awaiting my re 

 turn. They inquired whether in the course of my 

 explorations in the adjacent mountains I had ever 

 come upon a landscape suitable for a large paint 

 ing; whereupon I began a description of the one that 

 had so lately excited my admiration. Then, as I 

 went on further and further into details, their faces 

 began to glow, and I offered to guide them to it, 

 while they declared that they would gladly follow, 

 far or near, whithersoever I could spare the time to 

 lead them. 



Since storms might come breaking down through 

 the fine weather at any time, burying the colors in 

 snow, and cutting off the artists' retreat, I advised 

 getting ready at once. 



I led them out of the valley by the Vernal and 

 Nevada Falls, thence over the main dividing ridge 

 to the Big Tuolumne Meadows, by the old Mono 

 trail, and thence along the upper Tuolumne River 

 to its head. This was my companions' first excur 

 sion into the High Sierra, and as I was almost al 

 ways alone in my mountaineering, the way that the 

 fresh beauty was reflected in their faces made for 

 me a novel and interesting study. They naturally 

 were affected most of all by the colors the in 

 tense azure of the sky, the purplish grays of the 

 granite, the red and browns of dry meadows, and 

 the translucent purple and crimson of huckleberry 

 bogs; the flaming yellow of aspen groves, the silvery 

 flashing of the streams, and the bright green and 

 blue of the glacier lakes. But the general expres- 



