one must go yet farther, over a curving brow to a slight
shelf on the extreme brink. This shelf, formed
by the flaking off of a fold of granite, is about
three inches wide, just wide enough for a safe rest
for one’s heels. To me it seemed nerve-trying
to slip to this narrow foothold and poise on the edge
of such precipice so close to the confusing whirl
of the waters; and after casting longing glances over
the shining brow of the fall and listening to its sublime
psalm, I concluded not to attempt to go nearer, but,
nevertheless, against reasonable judgment, I did.
Noticing some tufts of artemisia in a cleft of rock,
I filled my mouth with the leaves, hoping their bitter
taste might help to keep caution keen and prevent
giddiness. In spite of myself I reached the little
ledge, got my heels well set, and worked sidewise
twenty or thirty feet to a point close to the out-plunging
current. Here the view is perfectly free down
into the heart of the bright irised throng of comet-like
streamers into which the whole ponderous volume of
the fall separates, two or three hundred feet below
the brow. So glorious a display of pure wildness,
acting at close range while cut off from all the world
beside, is terribly impressive. A less nerve-trying
view may be obtained from a fissured portion of the
edge of the cliff about forty yards to the eastward
of the fall. Seen from this point towards noon,
in the spring, the rainbow on its brow seems to be
broken up and mingled with the rushing comets until
all the fall is stained with iris colors, leaving
no white water visible. This is the best of the
safe views from above, the huge steadfast rocks, the
flying waters, and the rainbow light forming one of
the most glorious pictures conceivable.
The Yosemite Fall is separated into an upper and a
lower fall with a series of falls and cascades between
them, but when viewed in front from the bottom of
the Valley they all appear as one.
So grandly does this magnificent fall display itself
from the floor of the Valley, few visitors take the
trouble to climb the walls to gain nearer views, unable
to realize how vastly more impressive it is near by
than at a distance of one or two miles.
The views developed in a walk up the zigzags of the
trail leading to the foot of the Upper Fall are about
as varied and impressive as those displayed along
the favorite Glacier Point Trail. One rises as
if on wings. The groves, meadows, fern-flats
and reaches of the river gain new interest, as if
never seen before; all the views changing in a most
striking manner as we go higher from point to point.
The foreground also changes every few rods in the
most surprising manner, although the earthquake talus
and the level bench on the face of the wall over which
the trail passes seem monotonous and commonplace as
seen from the bottom of the Valley. Up we climb
with glad exhilaration, through shaggy fringes of
