forms are beautifully revealed. At the top of
the fall they seem to burst forth in irregular spurts
from some grand, throbbing mountain heart. Now
and then one mighty throb sends forth a mass of solid
water into the free air far beyond the others which
rushes alone to the bottom of the fall with long streaming
tail, like combed silk, while the others, descending
in clusters, gradually mingle and lose their identity.
But they all rush past us with amazing velocity and
display of power though apparently drowsy and deliberate
in their movements when observed from a distance of
a mile or two. The heads of these comet-like masses
are composed of nearly solid water, and are dense
white in color like pressed snow, from the friction
they suffer in rushing through the air, the portion
worn off forming the tail between the white lustrous
threads and films of which faint, grayish pencilings
appear, while the outer, finer sprays of water-dust,
whirling in sunny eddies, are pearly gray throughout.
At the bottom of the fall there is but little distinction
of form visible. It is mostly a hissing, clashing,
seething, upwhirling mass of scud and spray, through
which the light sifts in gray and purple tones while
at times when the sun strikes at the required angle,
the whole wild and apparently lawless, stormy, striving
mass is changed to brilliant rainbow hues, manifesting
finest harmony. The middle portion of the fall
is the most openly beautiful; lower, the various forms
into which the waters are wrought are more closely
and voluminously veiled, while higher, towards the
head, the current is comparatively simple and undivided.
But even at the bottom, in the boiling clouds of spray,
there is no confusion, while the rainbow light makes
all divine, adding glorious beauty and peace to glorious
power. This noble fall has far the richest, as
well as the most powerful, voice of all the falls of
the Valley, its tones varying from the sharp hiss
and rustle of the wind in the glossy leaves of the
live-oak and the soft, sifting, hushing tones of the
pines, to the loudest rush and roar of storm winds
and thunder among the crags of the summit peaks.
The low bass, booming, reverberating tones, heard
under favorable circumstances five or six miles away
are formed by the dashing and exploding of heavy masses
mixed with air upon two projecting ledges on the face
of the cliff, the one on which we are standing and
another about 200 feet above it. The torrent
of massive comets is continuous at time of high water,
while the explosive, booming notes are wildly intermittent,
because, unless influenced by the wind, most of the
heavier masses shoot out from the face of the precipice,
and pass the ledges upon which at other times they
are exploded. Occasionally the whole fall is swayed
away from the front of the cliff, then suddenly dashed
flat against it, or vibrated from side to side like
a pendulum, giving rise to endless variety of forms
and sounds.
