The ig20 Outing 141 



swarms of bees after their queens. Just prior to the announcement of 

 this plan the dunnage-bag-packers, suddenly realizing that all the 

 necessary implements were still out on the trail, became aroused to 

 a really frenzied sense of social responsibility that loudly denounced 

 the tardy commissary-packers. 



The rugged splendor of the Middle Fork Canon continues down 

 to Grouse Meadow. There the towering walls stand apart and the 

 river winds in slow curves through an enchantingly lovely meadow. 

 Its perfect beauty is slightly marred now by a sandy strip of desola- 

 tion near the lower end, where an avalanche has plowed across, up- 

 rooting the grove of pines where Mr. Le Conte's party camped in 

 1908 on their memorable exploring trip over the present route of the 

 John Muir Trail. 



Just below Grouse Meadow, at the junction of Palisade Creek, we 

 made camp for four days. Again time was all too short. There was 

 Rambaud Creek with its lovely lake basin to explore, or Dusy Creek, 

 leading to Bishop Pass. Palisade Creek one night had so many visi- 

 tors that the main camp was nearly depopulated. Besides the "dem- 

 oratic knapsack party," with its accompaniment of forty mules, 

 many labor parties, with backs bent under their burdens, started out 

 on adventures of their own. Palisade Basin, overlooked by the 

 North Palisade, attracted some. Cataract Creek, up which lay Ob- 

 servation Peak and colorful Amphitheater Lake, called to others. 

 Still others continued on southward past the Dumbell Lakes to 

 Marion Lake, joining us again at Simpson Meadow. For three 

 nights the knapsackers' fires shone — such happy, secluded, cozy fires ! 

 The most intimate charm of the outings, their friendliness, their 

 laughter — remember only the firelight shining on the great trees that 

 stretched sheltering arms above your knapsackers' camp, and how it 

 all comes flashing back again ! 



During our days of wandering the pack-train had been busy 

 withdrawing the "cache from the snowbank" high up on Granite 

 Pass, for all our provisions had now to be carried with us day by 

 day. Henceforward there could be no loitering if we were to return 

 to the railroad on time. We should not leave this camp without com- 

 ment on the unprecedented appetites there developed. "I cayn't fill 

 'em up; I just cayn't fill 'em up!" moaned the Colonel when the an- 

 nihilation of the thirteen hundredth biscuit and the twenty-fifth 

 gallon of soup found the line still going strong and unsatisfied. 



