In the Sierra 



having spent eight days last spring in ram- 

 bling amid its rocks and waters. Wherever 

 we go in the mountains, or indeed in any 

 of God's wild fields, we find more than we 

 seek. Descending four thousand feet in a 

 few hours, we enter a new world, cli- 

 mate, plants, sounds, inhabitants, and scenery 

 all new or changed. Near camp the gold- 

 cup oak forms sheets of chaparral, on top 

 of which we may make our beds. Going 

 down the Indian Canon we observe this lit- 

 tle bush changing by regular gradations to 

 a large bush, to a small tree, and then larger, 

 until on the rocky taluses near the bottom 

 of the valley we find it developed into a 

 broad, wide-spreading, gnarled, picturesque 

 tree from four to eight feet in diameter, 

 and forty or fifty feet high. Innumerable are 

 the forms of water displayed. Every gliding 

 reach, cascade, and fall has characters of 

 its own. Had a good view of the Vernal 

 and Nevada, two of the main falls of the 

 valley, less than a mile apart, and offering 

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