A half mile is no exaggeration, for the official measurement of the State Survey makes the height two thousand six hundred and forty-one (2,641) feet--a _full_ half mile, and _one foot more_.

The fall is not in one unbroken, perpendicular sheet, but in three successive leaps. In the upper fall, the stream slides over a huge rounded lip or edge of polished granite, and falls one thousand five hundred and eighty-seven feet in one tremendous plunge. Here its whole volume thunders upon a broad shelf or recess, whence it rushes in a series of roughly-broken cascades down a broken slope of over seven hundred feet in linear measurement, but whose base is six hundred and twenty-six feet perpendicularly below its top. From the bottom of this broken slope it makes a final plunge of four hundred and twenty-eight feet in one clear fall, and then slides off contentedly into the restful shadows of the welcoming forests below.

Its width, like that of all snow-fed streams, varies greatly with the season. In March or April, when the tributary snows are melting most rapidly, and myriads of streamlets swell its volume, the stream is from seventy-five to a hundred feet wide, where it suddenly slips over the smoothly-rounded granite at its upper brink. During the same season it scatters or spreads to a width of from three to four hundred feet, when it breaks upon the rocky ma.s.ses below.

In later spring, or earlier summer, it dwindles to less than a third of its greatest bulk; and its most intimate friend, the veteran Yosemite pioneer, Hutchings, tells us that he has seen it when it hardly seemed more than a silver thread winding down the face of the cliff. Under a full moon, the element of weirdness mingles with its graceful grandeur, shrouds it with mystery, and transports one into a soft and dreamy wonder-land, from which he cares not to return.

A mile further on our way back toward the western end, brings us under, or in front of, the triple rocky group, or three-peaked stone-mountain, whose name, the

Three Brothers,

readily suggests itself to one standing in the proper place below.

They are three huge, bluntly conical, rocky peaks, fronting nearly south, slightly inclined toward the valley and descending in height as they approach it. To the rude Indian fancy they might well suggest the name _p.o.r.n-p.o.r.n-pa-sue_--"Mountains playing leap-frog,"--with which they christened them.

The highest, which is the northernmost, the one furthest back from the valley, is three thousand eight hundred and thirty feet high. The summit of this rock is readily reached by a trail from the rear, and affords a superb view of the valley and its surroundings. Nearly all who have enjoyed it consider it the very best to be had.

Another mile-and-a-half and the rocky wonders of Yosemite fitly culminate and terminate in

Tu-toch-ah-nu-lah,

"The Great Chief of the Valley" more commonly, though very weakly, called "El Capitan," an ordinary Spanish word, meaning simply, "the Captain;" good enough for a ferry-boat or river steamer, but entirely beneath the dignity of this most magnificent rock on the face of the earth.

Tu-toch-ah-nulah is an immense granite cliff, projecting angularly into the valley, toward the southwest. It has two fronts, one facing nearly west, the other southeasterly, meeting in a sub-acute angle.

These two fronts are over a mile long, and three thousand three hundred feet high, smooth, bare and vertical, and bounded above by a sharp edge, standing pressed against the sky, which its Atlas-like shoulder seems made to uphold.

The State Survey, with all its scientific coolness, could not help saying, "_El Capitan_ imposes upon us by its stupendous bulk, which seems as if hewed from the mountains on purpose to stand as the type of eternal ma.s.siveness. It is doubtful, if anywhere in the world, there is presented so squarely cut, so lofty and so imposing a face of rock." Starr King declared, "A more majestic object than this rock, I never expect to see on this planet." Horace Greeley, who enjoyed the rare experience of entering the valley by night, and in moonlight too, thus pays tribute to the Great Chief:

"That first, full, deliberate gaze, up the opposite height! Can I ever forget it? The valley here, is scarcely half a mile wide, while its northern wall of mainly naked, perpendicular granite, is at least four thousand feet high, probably more. But the modic.u.m of moonlight that fell into this awful gorge, gave to that precipice a vagueness of outline, an indefinite vastness, a ghostly and weird spirituality. Had the mountain spoken to me in an audible voice, or begun to lean over with the purpose of burying me, I should hardly have been surprised."

After Tutochahnulah, nothing on earth can seem very grand or overpowering, and with this the wonders of the valley fitly close.

We have, by no means, seen all the falls, nor even mentioned all the peaks, but the others are of little note in Yosemite, though, elsewhere, tourists might go a thousand miles to see the least of them. This valley is, beyond comparison, the most wonderful and beautiful of all earthly sights. No matter how incredulous one may be before entering, the Great Chief and his tremendous allies, soon crush him into the most humble and complete subjection. Do not expect, however, that your first view will stagger your skepticism. On the contrary, it may even confirm it. Upon our first view of Tutochahnulah, as we were walking into the valley, one bright July forenoon, we stopped a mile and a half from its foot, collected ourselves for a calm, cool, mathematical judgment and said with all confidence, "That rock isn't over fifteen hundred feet high. It _can't_ be. Why, just look at that tree near its base. That tree, certainly, can't be more than a hundred and twenty-five feet high, and certainly, the cliff doesn't rise more than ten times its height above it." But, unfortunately, we had forgotten that never before had we seen the works of nature on as grand a scale. One's judgment has to change its base. He has to reconstruct it; to adopt a new unit.

Comparison serves him little, for he has no adequate standard by which to measure, or with which to compare the rock-mountains before him.

They are like nothing else. They are a law unto themselves, and one must learn the law, the _new_ law, before he can begin to enter the secret of their greatness. Look at that tree. Elsewhere you would call it lofty. It measures a hundred and fifty feet, and yet, that wall of solid rock behind rises straight up to twenty times its height above it. Look again; now, turn away; shut eyes and think. Forget all former standards and adopt the new. Slowly you begin to "even"

yourself to the stupendous scale of the gigantic shapes around.

Even Niagara requires two or three days before one begins to fully realize or truly appreciate its greatness. How much more, then, Yosemite, compared with which Niagara is but a very little thing!

Then, on the other hand, one must remember that after he has adjusted himself to the new and grander scale of Yosemite, upon coming out into the midst of ordinary hills and mountains, for several days they seem low and flat and small.

A single visit to Yosemite dwarfs all other natural wonders and spoils one for all places else. He who has seen it listens quietly to the most enthusiastic rhapsodies of the most widely traveled tourists, and simply answers, with a calm, superior smile, "Ah, that's all very well, but you should see _Yosemite_."

The Traveler's University--should such an inst.i.tution ever exist--can never righteously graduate the most widely traveled tourist, until he can truthfully add to his name, "Y. S. T."--Yosemite Tourist.

THE BIG TREES.

The California Big Trees are a kind of Redwood; or, if the strictest and most scientific judgment does not rank them in the same family, it must, at least, allow a very close relationship.

Nine groves are already certainly known, and, every year or two, as the exploration of the State becomes more exact, or approaches completion, other smaller groves, straggling groups or solitary clumps, are added to the number. Of all those thus far discovered the Calaveras Grove and the Mariposa Grove are the most celebrated, both from the extent of the groves and the size and height of the trees composing them.

The Calaveras Grove

receives its name from that of the county in which it stands. It is near the source of the south fork of the Calaveras river, while the upper tributaries of the Mokelumne and the Stanislaus rivers flow near it: the former on the north, the latter on the southeast. It is about sixteen miles from Murphy's Camp, and on or near the road crossing the Sierras by the Silver Mountain Pa.s.s. This grove has received more visitors and attained greater celebrity than any other, for four reasons:

1st. It was the first discovered.

2d. It was nearer the princ.i.p.al routes of travel, hence more easily accessible.

3d. One can visit it on wheels.

4th. Last, and best for the tired tourist, an excellent hotel at the very margin of the grove; Sperry & Perry, proprietors.

The grove extends northeast and southwest about five eighths of a mile. Its width is only about one fifth as great. It stands in a shallow valley between two gentle slopes. Its height above the sea is four thousand seven hundred and fifty-nine feet. In late spring or early winter a small brook winds and bubbles through the grove; but under the glare of summer suns and the gaze of thronging visitors, it modestly "dries up."

The grove contains about ninety trees which can be called really "big," besides a considerable number of smaller ones deferentially grouped around the outskirts. Several of the larger ones have fallen since the grove was discovered, in the spring of 1852; one has had the bark stripped off to the height of one hundred and sixteen feet, and one has been cut down, or, rather, bored and sawed down. The bark thus removed was exhibited in different cities in this country, and finally deposited in the Sydenham Crystal Palace, England, only to be burned in the fire which destroyed a part of that building some years since.

The two trees thus destroyed were among the finest, if not the very finest in the grove. Among those now standing, the tallest is the "Keystone State;" the largest and finest, the "Empire State."

The following table gives the height of all the trees measured by the State Survey, and their girth six feet from the ground:

Names of Trees. Girth. Height.

Keystone State 45 325 General Jackson 40 319 Mother of the Forest (without bark) 61 315 Daniel Webster 47 307 Richard Cobden 41 284 Starr King 52 283 Pride of the Forest 48 282 Henry Clay 47 280 Bay State 46 275 Jas. King of William 51 274 Sentinel 49 272 Dr. Kane 50 271 Arbor Vitae Queen 30 269 Abraham Lincoln 44 268 Maid of Honor 27 266 Old Vermont 40 265 Uncle Sam 43 265 Mother (and Son) 51 261 Three Graces (highest) 30 262 Wm. Cullen Bryant 48 262 U. S. Grant 34 261 Gen. Scott 43 258 Geo. Washington 51 256 Henry Ward Beecher 34 252 California 33 250 Uncle Tom's Cabin 50 250 Beauty of the Forest 39 249 J. B. McPherson 31 246 Florence Nightingale 37 246 James Wadsworth 27 239 Elihu Burritt 31 231

The exact measurement of the diameter and the ascertaining of the age of one of the largest trees in this grove, was accomplished by cutting it down. This was done soon after the discovery of the grove. It occupied five men during twenty-two days. They did it by boring into the tree with pump augers. The tree stood so perfectly vertical that, even after they had bored it completely off, it would not fall. It took three days' labor driving huge wedges in upon one side until the monumental monster leaned, toppled and fell.

They hewed and smoothed off the stump six feet above the ground, and then made careful measurements as follows:

Across its longest diameter, north of centre, 10 feet 4 inches.

Across its longest diameter, south of centre, 13 " 9 "

------------------- Total largest diameter, 24 feet 1 inc's.

The shorter diameter, from east to west, was twenty-three feet, divided exactly even, eleven and one half feet from the centre each way.

The thickness of the bark averaged eighteen inches. This would add three feet to the diameter, making the total diameter as the tree originally stood, a little over twenty-seven feet one way, and twenty-six feet the other. That is _eighty-five feet in circ.u.mference, six feet from the ground_.

The age was ascertained thus: After it had been felled, it was again cut through about thirty feet from the first cut. At the upper end of this section, which was, of course, nearly forty feet above the ground, as the tree originally stood, they carefully counted the rings of annual growth, at the same time exactly measuring the width of each set of one hundred rings, counting from the outside inwards.

These were the figures:

First hundred rings 3.0 inches.

Second " " 3.7 "

Third " " 4.1 "