STEEP TRAILS 



both sides; half of my rock is white in the light, half 

 in shadow. As I look from the opening jaws of this 

 shadowy gorge, South Dome is immediately in 

 front — high in the stars, her face turned from the 

 moon, with the rest of her body gloriously muffled 

 in waved folds of granite. On the left, sculptured 

 from the main Cloud's Rest ridge, are three mag- 

 nificent rocks, sisters of the great South Dome. 

 On the right is the massive, moonlit front of Mount 

 Watkins, and between, low down in the furthest 

 distance, is Sentinel Dome, girdled and darkened 

 with forest. In the near foreground Tenaya Creek 

 is singing against boulders that are white with 

 snow and moonbeams. Now look back twenty 

 yards, and you will see a waterfall fair as a spirit; 

 the moonlight just touches it, bringing it into relief 

 against a dark background of shadow. A little to 

 the left, and a dozen steps this side of the fall, a 

 flickering light marks my camp — and a precious 

 camp it is. A huge, glacier-polished slab, faUing 

 from the smooth, glossy flank of Cloud's Rest, hap- 

 pened to settle on edge against the wall of the gorge. 

 I did not know that this slab was glacier-polished 

 until I lighted my fire. Judge of my delight. I 

 think it was sent here by an earthquake. It is about 

 twelve feet square. I wish I could take it home^ for 

 a hearthstone. Beneath this slab is the only place 

 in this torrent-swept gorge where I could find sand 

 sufficient for a bed. 



I expected to sleep on the boulders, for I spent 

 most of the afternoon on the slippery wall of the 

 canon, endeavoring to get around this difficult part 



^ Muir at this time was making Yosemite Valley his home. 

 [Editor.] 



24 



