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Sierra Club Bulletin. 



as the trail, swinging far to the north, close under the 

 walls of the cirque, avoids the dangerous belt altogether. 

 The great difficulty in this canon lies in picking up the 

 end of the trail at the precise point where its assistance is 

 most needed. This is particularly true to the traveler 

 making his way up Cliff Creek, as at the foot of each 

 boss, or precipice, there is a broad bench of meadowland 

 criss-crossed with a maze of cattle trails. In each case 

 only patient search discovered the trail close under the 

 northern wall. Altogether the pass is not to be recom- 

 mended for pack-trains except under the skilled and 

 patient guidance of an experienced mountaineer. 



Cliif Creek contains some of the sharpest and most 

 angular slide-rock that the writer has ever experienced. 

 We needlessly ascertained this fact in attempting to cross- 

 cut the trail, which is generally smooth and well rounded 

 from its continual use by cattle. The waning day sent us 

 down Cliif Creek at a lively pace, for we planned to camp 

 for the night at Redwood Meadow. We reached this 

 charming spot about sunset, that mystic time when 

 sequoias are seen at their best, for the huge cinnamon 

 shafts tower up into the leafy shadows like pillars in a 

 temple. Indistinct in the twilight, the waxen spikes of 

 the lupines stand like tapers on the altar, while soft and 

 clear throughout the darkling aisles of the forest sounds 

 the magic flute of the woodland, the vesper song of the 

 dwarf hemiit thrush. One would fain linger in such a 

 spot under the spell which eventide throws over all 

 nature, but the seeping streams were warm and uninvit- 

 ing, so we hastened on and just at nightfall came upon 

 the gurgling waters of the North Fork. For an hour 

 the campfire shone on the circle of faces and cast a 

 flickering light into the recesses of the forest. Then each 

 scooped for himself a little hollow among the stones and 

 crawled into his sleeping-bag. For a moment or two 

 the stars twinkled and birds of the night called to each 

 other from the leafy branches over our heads. Then all 

 was dark and all was still. 



