FORGET-ME-NOT. 



It was while we were on Glacier Point, and after a good 

 night's rest, that we paid a visit to the Dome, a point in the 

 mountain the highest I ever wish to visit. 



While our guide led the way through a forest of beautiful 

 trees, it was difficult to imagine ourselves on the top of a mount- 

 ain thousands of feet above the Yosemite Valley. 



We follow on a well-beaten path, and as we ride along see 

 many varieties of wild flowers ; here and there the snow 

 plant stands, dignified and alone, like a little red sentinel keeping 

 watch over the aerial domain. 



With every step we are going higher and higher, but so 

 gradually we do not notice it. Then the ride is so cool and 

 pleasant, we are thoroughly enjoying every moment. Here 

 and there we see lying on the ground the trunk of an immense 

 tree that is fast going to decay, and we know from the living 

 trees and their reputation for hard and lasting wood, that these 

 monsters must have lain there for scores of years; and while 

 every thing is so new and wonderful to us, it is not easy to 

 imagine it has been just the same, with the same trees and 

 rocks, for thousands and thousands of years. 



The absence of birds was noticeable. Not a note did I 

 hear while making this trip to the Dome, and yet the place was 

 most inviting for them. They may be there at different seasons 

 of the year, and it may be some important meeting called them 



