takes keen care for safety on its own account. How
long I remained down there, or how I returned, I can hardly tell. Anyhow
I had a glorious time, and got back to camp about dark, enjoying
triumphant exhilaration soon followed by dull weariness. Hereafter I'll
try to keep from such extravagant, nerve-straining places. Yet such a
day is well worth venturing for. My first view of the High Sierra, first
view looking down into Yosemite, the death song of Yosemite Creek, and
its flight over the vast cliff, each one of these is of itself enough
for a great life-long landscape fortune--a most memorable day of
days--enjoyment enough to kill if that were possible.

_July 16._ My enjoyments yesterday afternoon, especially at the head of
the fall, were too great for good sleep. Kept starting up last night in
a nervous tremor, half awake, fancying that the foundation of the
mountain we were camped on had given way and was falling into Yosemite
Valley. In vain I roused myself to make a new beginning for sound sleep.
The nerve strain had been too great, and again and again I dreamed I was
rushing through the air above a glorious avalanche of water and rocks.
One time, springing to my feet, I said, "This time it is real--all must
die, and where could mountaineer find a more glorious death!"

Left camp soon after sunrise for an all-day ramble eastward. Crossed the
head of Indian Basin, forested with _Abies magnifica_, underbrush mostly
_Ceanothus cordulatus_ and manzanita, a mixture not easily trampled over
or penetrated, for the ceanothus is thorny and grows in dense
snow-pressed masses, and the manzanita has exceedingly crooked, stubborn
branches. From the head of the canyon continued on past North Dome into
the basin of Dome or Porcupine Creek. Here are many fine meadows
imbedded in the woods, gay with _Lilium parvum_ and its companions; the
elevation, about eight thousand feet, seems to be best suited for
it--saw specimens that were a foot or two higher than my head. Had more
magnificent views of the upper mountains, and of the great South Dome,
said to be the grandest rock in the world. Well it may be, since it is
of such noble dimensions and sculpture. A wonderfully impressive
monument, its lines exquisite in fineness, and though sublime in size,
is finished like the finest work of art, and seems to be alive.

_July 17._ A new camp was made to-day in a magnificent silver fir grove
at the head of a small stream that flows into Y