ON FOOT IN THE YOSEMITE 



say," an enthusiastic, much-traveled man had ex- 

 claimed in my hearing, " it beats Niagara. Yes, 

 sir, it beats Niagara ! "), every turn of the path 

 bringing it into view at a new angle, and, as it 

 seemed, to increased advantage ; the shining 

 green Valley, with its jewel of a river ; and yon- 

 der, up in the sky, all those illuminated snowy 

 Sierra peaks. Well, I could only stop and look, 

 and stop and look again, rejoicing to be alive. 



As for Eagle Peak, with its two or three extra 

 miles, before the business was over (after the way 

 thither became dry enough to be passable without 

 wading) I had paid it four visits. The Peak itself 

 offered no transcendent attraction, but the trail 

 proved to be at once so comfortable and so very 

 much to my mind, that, once at the end of the 

 sharp zigzags, and on the level of the river above 

 the fall, it seemed impossible not to keep on, — 

 just this once more, I always promised myself; 

 such pleasure I took in the forest of stately pines 

 and firs, the multitude of wild flowers by the 

 way, and in another and more extensive of those 

 fair mountain meadows (natural grassy meads, 

 green as emerald, shining in the sun amidst the 

 dark evergreen forest), along the border of which 

 the winding trail carried me. In this were no 

 marsh marigolds, but instead a generous sprink- 

 ling of sunbright buttercups, while a pool in the 

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