"All through the Yosemite there is music. You hear the forest talking, and
think it is the river. You hear the river, and think it is the wind giving
a signal to the trees, that they may begin speaking; for trees and river
and wind have lived so long together--like people married happily since
early youth--that thoughts and words and tones have come to be the same.
But among the redwoods is the noblest music of all, different from that of
any other trees. And only think, yesterday I hardly believed they could be
taller and grander than some of the others I had seen, all those great
conifers that would have been gods in Greece! Even this morning, driving
through forests that line the way to the Sequoias, I still believed
that--poor me! The big sugar-pines and the yellow-pines loomed so huge,
towering above delicate birches and a hundred other lovely creatures,
which they guarded as Eastern men guard the beauties of their harems. But
the moment I saw the two first giants--the 'Sentinels'--stand on the
threshold of their palace, or cathedral, whichever it is (but it's both,
and more) I knew how mistaken I'd been about the others. These are
super-trees.

"We drove on slowly, along a wide aisle paved with gold and sprinkled with
gold-dust. The pillars holding up the sky-roof are fluted deeply and
regularly; and they are rose-red, these tree columns, seeming to glow with
inward fire--the never-dying fire of life which keeps their hearts alive
when common trees perish. Theirs is no ruined cathedral or palace. All is
perfect now, as in its beginning; walls and dome of blue which can never
crumble; and the doors are never shut, though jealousy guarded by the
Sentinels.

"In some of the trees are shrines. At first glance they appear to be empty
shrines, but they are not empty, really. What one finds there depends upon
one's self. I wish I could live in this palace for weeks. I should make
wonderful discoveries.

"In old houses, whose roofs are supported by great beams of oak, I know
they call the stoutest and most important the 'king beam,' for without him
the roof would fall. Just so, the Grizzly Giant is the king tree of the
Mariposa Forest. There are other trees more beautiful and graceful, yet he
is indisputably, undisputedly king, among lesser royalties and royal
highnesses. All are crowned. These Sequoias aren't clothed with green,
like other trees, but crowned with it, having also, here and there upon
their breasts, gre