Grand Canons of Tuolumne and Merced. 243 



from the river — the first at the point where an old Indian 

 trail enters the canon, near Morrison Creek; the second 

 about two miles above the Little Hetch-Hetchy ; and the 

 third immediately above it. In all of these places con- 

 siderable climbing has to be done to surmount cliffs im- 

 passable at the river's edge. 



It is to be hoped that before long the trails will be 

 completed, making this whole wonderful canon and its 

 beautiful sister, the Merced, accessible to the many trav- 

 elers who lack the strength to endure the hardships that 

 at present beset the way through both canons. The 

 scenic splendor of such a circuit, starting from the Yo- 

 semite and traversing the Merced Canon, the Tuolumne 

 Meadows, the Tuolumne Canon, and the Hetch-Hetchy, 

 could never be equaled in the Sierra. 



Our last camp, a mile above the Little Hetch-Hetchy, 

 was made memorable by feeding to satiety the boys of our 

 party, in whose improvident and ever-hungry eyes the 

 commissary had seemed unnecessarily well-guarded and 

 evenly apportioned. Now, with the end of the journey 

 in sight, we could afford to be recklessly generous in 

 the matter of hasty pudding and bacon. Now, too, we 

 could fish to our heart's content in the sparkling river, 

 could loiter that whole last beautiful day among the great 

 pines and oaks and the young cedar forests, confident 

 that but a few easy miles away a hearty welcome and a 

 good commissary awaited us in the Sierra Club camp in 

 Hetch-Hetchy. 



A peculiar charm clings to the last days of an outing. 

 Around the last camp-fires the climax of good-fellowship 

 is reached; and in the day-long ramblings the freshness 

 and beauty of the mountain life seem to gather new 

 meaning as we approach the time when it must all be left 

 behind. And so we love to linger by the way, coming 

 late into camp, and tasting each day's pleasure to the full ; 

 for the mountain paths are many and the days of our 

 pleasuring all too few, — and who knows when we shall 

 pass this way again? 



