ON FOOT IN THE YOSEMITE 



one night when an earthquake rocked me out of 

 my sleep. 



Eagle Peak, nearly four thousand feet above 

 the Valley, peeping over the heads of its two 

 younger brothers, was directly opposite as I 

 stood in my door ; while I had only to move out 

 of the range of a group of pine trees to see the 

 greatest (at that season) of the four principal 

 falls : the Yosemite, that is to say, with its first 

 stupendous free plunge of fifteen or sixteen hun- 

 dred feet, a height equal (so my Yankee-bred 

 imagination dealt with the matter) to that of six 

 or seven Bunker Hill monuments standing end 

 on end. It was grandeur itself to look at, — 

 grandeur and beauty combined ; and to my un- 

 accustomed ears what a noise it made ! As I 

 started out for my first stroll, on the noon of my 

 arrival (May ii), a black cloud overspread the 

 sky in that quarter, from which came at intervals 

 a heavy rumbling as of not very distant thunder. 

 A passer-by, however, when I questioned him 

 about it, said, " No, it is the fall." 



And so it proved, some momentary shifting 

 of the wind seeming now and then to lift the 

 enormous column of water from the cliff, and 

 anon let it down again with a resounding crash. 

 This peculiar thundering sound, I was told, would 

 be less frequent later in the season, when the 

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