For twelve miles farther a series of
tremendous climbs tasked us and our beasts to the utmost, but brought us
quite _apropos_ at dinner-time to a lovely green meadow walled in on one
side by near snow-peaks. A small brook running through it speedily
furnished us with frogs enough for an _entree_. Between two and three in
the afternoon we set out upon the last stage of our pilgrimage. We were
now nearly on a plane with the top of the mighty precipices which wall
the Yo-Semite Valley, and for two hours longer found the trail easy,
save where it crossed the bogs of summit-level springs.
Immediately after leaving the meadow where we dined we plunged again
into the thick forest, where every now and then some splendid grouse or
the beautiful plume-crowned California quail went whirring away from
before our horses. Here and there a broad grizzly "sign" intersected our
trail. The tall purple deer-weed, a magnificent scarlet flower of name
unknown to me, and another blossom like the laburnum, endlessly varied
in its shades of roseate, blue, or the compromised tints, made the
hill-sides gorgeous beyond human gardening. All these were scentless;
but one other flower, much rarer, made fragrance enough for all. This
was the "Lady Washington," and much resembled a snowy day-lily with an
odor of tuberoses.
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