nyon up
to that time had not been explored, and knowing that the difference in
the elevation of the river at the head of the canyon and in Hetch Hetchy
was about 5000 feet, we expected to find some magnificent cataracts
or falls; nor were we disappointed. When we were leaving Yosemite an
ambitious young man begged leave to join us. I strongly advised him not
to attempt such a long, hard trip, for it would undoubtedly prove very
trying to an inexperienced climber. He assured us, however, that he
was equal to anything, would gladly meet every difficulty as it came,
and cause us no hindrance or trouble of any sort. So at last, after
repeating our advice that he give up the trip, we consented to his
joining us. We entered the canyon by way of Hetch Hetchy Valley, each
carrying his own provisions, and making his own tea, porridge, bed, etc.

In the morning of the second day out from Hetch Hetchy we came to what
is now known as "Muir Gorge," and Mr. Clark without hesitation prepared
to force a way through it, wading and jumping from one submerged boulder
to another through the torrent, bracing and steadying himself with a
long pole. Though the river was then rather low, the savage, roaring,
surging song it was ringing was rather nerve-trying, especially to our
inexperienced companion. With careful assistance, however, I managed to
get him through, but this hard trial, naturally enough, proved too much
and he informed us, pale and trembling, that he could go no farther. I
gathered some wood at the upper throat of the gorge, made a fire for him
and advised him to feel at home and make himself comfortable, hoped he
would enjoy the grand scenery and the songs of the water-ouzels which
haunted the gorge, and assured him that we would return some time in the
night, though it might be late, as we wished to go on through the entire
canyon if possible. We pushed our way through the dense chaparral and
over the earthquake taluses with such speed that we reached the foot of
the upper cataract while we had still an hour or so of daylight for the
return trip. It was long after dark when we reached our adventurous, but
nerve-shaken companion who, of course, was anxious and lonely, not being
accustomed to solitude, however kindly and flowery and full of sweet
bird-song and stream-song. Being tired we simply lay down in restful
comfort on the river bank beside a good fire, instead of trying to
go down the gorge in the dark or climb over its h