A Thousand-Mile W alk 
ing over the flowery hills in most imposing 
majesty, bestowing water as from a sea. The 
passionate rain-gush lasted only about one min- 
ute, but was nevertheless the most magnifi- 
cent cataract of the sky mountains that I ever 
beheld. A portion of calm sky toward the 
Sierras was brushed with thin, white cloud- 
tissue, upon which the rain-torrent showed to 
a great height — a cloud waterfall, which, like 
those of Yosemite, was neither spray, rain, nor 
solid water. In the same year the cloudiness 
of January, omitting rainy days, averaged 
0.32; February, 0.13; March, 0.20; April, 0.10; 
May, 0.08. The greater portion of this cloudi- 
ness was gathered into a few days, leaving the 
others blocks of solid, universal sunshine in 
every chink and pore. 
At the end of January, four plants were in 
flower: a small white cress, growing in large 
patches; a low-set, umbeled plant, with yellow 
flowers; an eriogonum, with flowers in leafless 
spangles; and a small boragewort. Five or six 
mosses had adjusted their hoods, and were in 
[ 206 ] 
