s," said a young lady to me. "I thought I had never seen such
disreputable looking people. Their boots were muddy, their hair was
dishevelled, their faces were flushed and sunburnt. But in a day or two
I was coming in from long walks in just the same condition myself." But
who that can walk and climb would forego the thrilling pleasure of the
long climb to Glacier Point, and the long climb past Nevada and Vernal
Falls, and down again into the Valley? Who would miss the long climb up
to the Yosemite Falls, where one from a perilous and yet protected
vantage point just above the Falls sees that great volume of water
launch itself for the awful plunge into the air, and so down into the
Valley? Fortunately, there are sturdy mules and horses, sure-footed and
plodding, for those who prefer riding to climbing. No one need miss the
truly grand experience of the view from Glacier Point, where by staying
over night at the hotel one may have both sunset and sunrise. What a
world of mountains one looks out upon! There is Half Dome, looking as if
a gigantic hand had thrust it up through the earth and into the air,
leaving its other half far, far below. There stretches before one a
vast, upper country of irregular table lands and peaks, many still white
with snow. One is really looking far out over the remote regions of the
snowy, pine-covered, high Sierras.

[Illustration: 1. Royal Arches, Yosemite Valley. 2. View into Yosemite
Valley. 3. Dome and Half Dome, Yosemite Valley.]

We took a day for a long excursion to Cloud's Rest. This meant
twenty-two miles of mule riding, but it also meant an even more
comprehensive and exalted view from the mountain's top, of frozen lakes
below, deep canyons, lofty mountain peaks where storms were raging far
away, and solitary table lands. Only people of endurance can take such a
jaunt, as one's joints grow very weary and aching from the slow riding
hour after hour. When we were at Camp Curry, a party of some forty
Germans, men and women, were there for the pleasure of "doing" the
entire Valley. No climb was too hard for them. They were known as the
"German climbing bunch." Every morning one might see them with their
paper bags of luncheon and their climbing-sticks, walking gaily along
to the beginning of some one of the mountains trails. They entertained
us at the evening camp fire with their German songs, and were altogether
an energetic and genial company.

The open air life and the grandeur of