A NEAR VIEW OF THE HIGH SIERRA 73 



from excessive enjoyment and toil. Then I crept 

 beneath, the pine-tassels to bed. The wind was 

 frosty and the fire burned low, but my sleep was 

 none the less sound, and the evening constellations 

 had swept far to the west before I awoke. 



After thawing and resting in the morning sun 

 shine, I sauntered home, that is, back to the Tuol- 

 umne camp, bearing away toward a cluster of 

 peaks that hold the fountain snows of one of the 

 north tributaries of Rush Creek. Here I discovered 

 a group of beautiful glacier lakes, nestled toge 

 ther in a grand amphitheater. Toward evening, I 

 crossed the divide separating the Mono waters 

 from those of the Tuolumne, and entered the 

 glacier basin that now holds the fountain snows 

 of the stream that forms the upper Tuolumne cas 

 cades. This stream I traced down through its 

 many dells and gorges, meadows and bogs, reach 

 ing the brink of the main Tuolumne at dusk. 



A loud whoop for the artists was answered again 

 and again. Their camp-fire came in sight, and 

 half an hour afterward I was with them. They 

 seemed unreasonably glad to see me. I had been 

 absent only three days; nevertheless, though the 

 weather was fine, they had already been weighing 

 chances as to whether I would ever return, and 

 trying to decide whether they should wait longer 

 or begin to seek their way back to the lowlands. 

 Now their curious troubles were over. They 

 packed their precious sketches, and next morning 

 we set out homeward bound, and in two days 

 entered the Yosemite Valley from the north by 

 way of Indian Canon. 



