ature, usually so deliberate in her operations, then created,
as we have seen, a new set of features, simply by giving the mountains
a shake--changing not only the high peaks and cliffs, but the streams.
As soon as these rock avalanches fell the streams began to sing new
songs; for in many places thousands of boulders were hurled into their
channels, roughening and half-damming them, compelling the waters to
surge and roar in rapids where before they glided smoothly. Some of
the streams were completely dammed; driftwood, leaves, etc., gradually
filling the interstices between the boulders, thus giving rise to lakes
and level reaches; and these again, after being gradually filled in,
were changed to meadows, through which the streams are now silently
meandering; while at the same time some of the taluses took the places
of old meadows and groves. Thus rough places were made smooth, and
smooth places rough. But, on the whole, by what at first sight seemed
pure confounded confusion and ruin, the landscapes were enriched; for
gradually every talus was covered with groves and gardens, and made a
finely proportioned and ornamental base for the cliffs. In this work of
beauty, every boulder is prepared and measured and put in its place more
thoughtfully than are the stones of temples. If for a moment you are
inclined to regard these taluses as mere draggled, chaotic dumps, climb
to the top of one of them, and run down without any haggling, puttering
hesitation, boldly jumping from boulder to boulder with even speed. You
will then find your feet playing a tune, and quickly discover the music
and poetry of these magnificent rock piles--a fine lesson; and all
Nature's wildness tells the same story--the shocks and outbursts of
earthquakes, volcanoes, geysers, roaring, thundering waves and floods,
the silent uprush of sap in plants, storms of every sort--each and all
are the orderly beauty-making love-beats of Nature's heart.

Chapter 5

The Trees of the Valley

The most influential of the Valley trees is the yellow pine (Pinus
ponderosa). It attains its noblest dimensions on beds of water-washed,
coarsely-stratified moraine material, between the talus slopes and
meadows, dry on the surface, well-watered below and where not too
closely assembled in groves the branches reach nearly to the ground,
forming grand spires 200 to 220 feet in height. The largest that I have
measured is standing alone almost opposite the Sentinel Roc