Starting Out with C++ from Control Structures to

Objects 8th Edition Gaddis Solutions Manual pdf

download

https://testbankdeal.com/product/starting-out-with-c-from-
control-structures-to-objects-8th-edition-gaddis-solutions-
manual/

Download more testbank from https://testbankdeal.com

Instant digital products (PDF, ePub, MOBI) available
Download now and explore formats that suit you...

Starting Out with C++ from Control Structures to Objects

8th Edition Gaddis Test Bank

https://testbankdeal.com/product/starting-out-with-c-from-control-
structures-to-objects-8th-edition-gaddis-test-bank/

testbankdeal.com

Starting Out With C++ From Control Structures To Objects

9th Edition Gaddis Solutions Manual

https://testbankdeal.com/product/starting-out-with-c-from-control-
structures-to-objects-9th-edition-gaddis-solutions-manual/

testbankdeal.com

Starting Out With C++ From Control Structures To Objects

7th Edition Gaddis Solutions Manual

https://testbankdeal.com/product/starting-out-with-c-from-control-
structures-to-objects-7th-edition-gaddis-solutions-manual/

testbankdeal.com

Applied Statistics in Business and Economics 5th Edition

Doane Solutions Manual

https://testbankdeal.com/product/applied-statistics-in-business-and-
economics-5th-edition-doane-solutions-manual/

testbankdeal.com
Services Marketing 6th Edition Zeithaml Solutions Manual

https://testbankdeal.com/product/services-marketing-6th-edition-
zeithaml-solutions-manual/

testbankdeal.com

Managerial Communication 7th Edition Hynes Solutions

Manual

https://testbankdeal.com/product/managerial-communication-7th-edition-
hynes-solutions-manual/

testbankdeal.com

Investment Banks Hedge Funds and Private Equity 3rd

Edition Stowell Solutions Manual

https://testbankdeal.com/product/investment-banks-hedge-funds-and-
private-equity-3rd-edition-stowell-solutions-manual/

testbankdeal.com

Traditions and Encounters A Global Perspective on the Past

6th Edition Bentley Test Bank

https://testbankdeal.com/product/traditions-and-encounters-a-global-
perspective-on-the-past-6th-edition-bentley-test-bank/

testbankdeal.com

Basic Nursing Concepts Skills And Reasoning 1st Edition

Treas Test Bank

https://testbankdeal.com/product/basic-nursing-concepts-skills-and-
reasoning-1st-edition-treas-test-bank/

testbankdeal.com
Financial Accounting 8th Edition Harrison Test Bank

https://testbankdeal.com/product/financial-accounting-8th-edition-
harrison-test-bank/

testbankdeal.com
 LESSO N S E T

7 Arrays

PURPOSE 1. To introduce and allow students to work with arrays

2. To introduce the typedef statement
3. To work with and manipulate multidimensional arrays

PROCEDURE 1. Students should read the Pre-lab Reading Assignment before coming to lab.
2. Students should complete the Pre-lab Writing Assignment before coming to lab.
3. In the lab, students should complete labs assigned to them by the instructor.

Approximate Check
completion Page when
Contents Pre-requisites time number done
Pre-lab Reading Assignment 20 min. 114
Pre-lab Writing Assignment Pre-lab reading 10 min. 122
LESSON 7A
Lab 7.1
Working with One- Basic understanding of 30 min. 123
Dimensional Arrays one-dimensional arrays
Lab 7.2
Strings as Arrays of Basic understanding of 20 min. 126
Characters arrays of characters
LESSON 7B
Lab 7.3
Working with Two- Understanding of multi- 30 min. 129
Dimensional Arrays dimensional arrays
Lab 7.4
Student Generated Code Basic understanding 30 min. 134
Assignments of arrays

113
114 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

PRE - L AB RE A D I N G AS S I GNMEN T
One-Dimensional Arrays
So far we have talked about a variable as a single location in the computer’s
memory. It is possible to have a collection of memory locations, all of which
have the same data type, grouped together under one name. Such a collection
is called an array. Like every variable, an array must be defined so that the com-
puter can “reserve” the appropriate amount of memory. This amount is based upon
the type of data to be stored and the number of locations, i.e., size of the array,
each of which is given in the definition.

Example: Given a list of ages (from a file or input from the keyboard), find
and display the number of people for each age.

The programmer does not know the ages to be read but needs a space for the
total number of occurrences of each “legitimate age.” Assuming that ages 1,
2, . . . , 100 are possible, the following array definition can be used.
const int TOTALYEARS = 100;

int main()
{
int ageFrequency[TOTALYEARS]; //reserves memory for 100 ints
:
return 0;

Following the rules of variable definition, the data type (integer in this case) is
given first, followed by the name of the array (ageFrequency), and then the total
number of memory locations enclosed in brackets. The number of memory loca-
tions must be an integer expression greater than zero and can be given either as
a named constant (as shown in the above example) or as a literal constant (an
actual number such as 100).
Each element of an array, consisting of a particular memory location within
the group, is accessed by giving the name of the array and a position with the array
(subscript). In C++ the subscript, sometimes referred to as index, is enclosed in
square brackets. The numbering of the subscripts always begins at 0 and ends with
one less than the total number of locations. Thus the elements in the ageFrequency
array defined above are referenced as ageFrequency[0] through ageFrequency[99].

0 1 2 3 4 5 . . . . . . 97 98 99
If in our example we want ages from 1 to 100, the number of occurrences of
age 4 will be placed in subscript 3 since it is the “fourth” location in the array.
This odd way of numbering is often confusing to new programmers; however, it
quickly becomes routine.1

1
Some students actually add one more location and then ignore location 0, letting 1 be the
first location. In the above example such a process would use the following definition: int
agefrequency[101]; and use only the subscripts 1 through 100. Our examples will use
location 0. Your instructor will tell you which method to use.
 Pre-lab Reading Assignment 115

Array Initialization
In our example, ageFrequency[0] keeps a count of how many 1s we read in,
ageFrequency[1] keeps count of how many 2s we read in, etc. Thus, keeping
track of how many people of a particular age exist in the data read in requires
reading each age and then adding one to the location holding the count for that
age. Of course it is important that all the counters start at 0. The following shows
the initialization of all the elements of our sample array to 0.

for (int pos = 0; pos < TOTALYEARS; pos++)

// pos acts as the array subscript
{
ageFrequency[pos] = 0;
}

A simple for loop will process the entire array, adding one to the subscript each
time through the loop. Notice that the subscript (pos) starts with 0. Why is the con-
dition pos < TOTALYEARS used instead of pos <= TOTALYEARS? Remember that
the last subscript is one less than the total number of elements in the array.
Hence the subscripts of this array go from 0 to 99.

Array Processing
Arrays are generally processed inside loops so that the input/output processing
of each element of the array can be performed with minimal statements. Our
age frequency program first needs to read in the ages from a file or from the key-
board. For each age read in, the “appropriate” element of the array (the one cor-
responding to that age) needs to be incremented by one. The following examples
show how this can be accomplished:
from a file using infile as a logical name from a keyboard with –99 as sentinel data
cout << "Please input an age from one"
<< "to 100. input -99 to stop"
<< endl;
infile >> currentAge; cin >> currentAge;
while (infile)
while (currentAge != -99)
{ {
ageFrequency[currentAge-1] = ageFrequency[currentAge-1] =
ageFrequency[currentAge-1] + 1; ageFrequency[currentAge-1] + 1;
infile >> currentAge; cout << "Please input an age from "
<< "one to 100. input -99 to stop"
<< endl;
cin >> currentAge;

} }

The while(infile) statement means that while there is more data in the file
infile, the loop will continue to process.
To read from a file or from the keyboard we prime the read,2 which means
the first value is read in before the test condition is checked to see if the loop

2
Priming the read for a while loop means having an input just before the loop condition
(just before the while) and having another one as the last statement in the loop.
116 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

should be executed. When we read an age, we increment the location in the

array that keeps track of the amount of people in the corresponding age group.
Since C++ array indices always start with 0, that location will be at the subscript
one value less than the age we read in.

4 0 14 5 0 6 1 0
0 1 2 3 4 5 ...... 98 99
1 year 2 years 3 years 4 years 5 years 6 years 99 years 100 years

Each element of the array contains the number of people of a given age. The data
shown here is from a random sample run. In writing the information stored in the
array, we want to make sure that only those array elements that have values
greater than 0 are output. The following code will do this.
for (int ageCounter = 0; ageCounter < TOTALYEARS; ageCounter++)

if (ageFrequency[ageCounter] > 0)
cout << "The number of people " << ageCounter + 1 <<" years old is "
<< ageFrequency[ageCounter] << endl;

The for loop goes from 0 to one less than TOTALYEARS (0 to 99). This will test every
element of the array. If a given element has a value greater than 0, it will be
output. What does outputting ageCounter + 1 do? It gives the age we are deal-
ing with at any given time, while the value of ageFrequency[ageCounter] gives
the number of people in that age group.
The complete age frequency program will be given as one of the lab assign-
ments in Lab 7.4.

Arrays as Arguments
Arrays can be passed as arguments (parameters) to functions. Although variables
can be passed by value or reference, arrays are always passed by pointer, which
is similar to pass by reference, since it is not efficient to make a “copy” of all ele-
ments of the array. Pass by pointer is discussed further in Lesson Set 9. This
means that arrays, like pass by reference parameters, can be altered by the call-
ing function. However, they NEVER have the & symbol between the data type and
name, as pass by reference parameters do. Sample Program 7.1 illustrates how
arrays are passed as arguments to functions.

Sample Program 7.1:

// The grade average program
// This program illustrates how one-dimensional arrays are used and how
// they are passed as arguments to functions. It contains two functions.
// The first function is called to allow the user to input a set of grades and
// store them in an array. The second function is called to find the average
// grade.

#include <iostream>
using namespace std;
 Pre-lab Reading Assignment 117

const int TOTALGRADES = 50; // TOTALGRADES is the maximum size of the array

// function prototypes

void getData(int array[], int& sizeOfArray);

// the procedure that will read values into the array

float findAverage(const int array[], int sizeOfArray);

// the procedure that will find the average of values
// stored in an array. The word const in front of the
// data type of the array prevents the function from
// altering the array

int main()
{
int grades[TOTALGRADES]; // defines an array that holds up to 50 ints
int numberOfGrades = 0; // the number of grades read in
float average; // the average of all grades read in

getData(grades, numberOfGrades); // getData is called to read the grades into

// the array and store how many grades there
// are in numberOfGrades

average = findAverage(grades, numberOfGrades);

cout << endl << "The average of the " << numberOfGrades
<< " grades read in is " << average << "." << endl << endl;

return 0;
}

//***********************************************************************
// getData
//
// task: This function inputs and stores data in the grades array.
// data in: none (the parameters contain no information needed by the
// getData function)
// data out: an array containing grades and the number of grades
//***********************************************************************

void getData(int array[], int& sizeOfArray)

{
int pos = 0; // array index which starts at 0
int grade; // holds each individual grade read in

cout << "Please input a grade or type -99 to stop: " << endl;
cin >> grade;

continues
118 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

while (grade != -99)

{
array[pos] = grade; // store grade read in to next array location
pos ++; // increment array index

cout << "Please input a grade or type -99 to stop: " << endl;
cin >> grade;
}

sizeOfArray = pos; // upon exiting the loop, pos holds the

// number of grades read in, which is sent
// back to the calling function
}

//****************************************************************************
// findAverage
//
// task: This function finds and returns the average of the values
//
// data in: the array containing grades and the array size
// data returned: the average of the grades contained in that array
//****************************************************************************

float findAverage (const int array[], int sizeOfArray)

{
int sum = 0; // holds the sum of all grades in the array

for (int pos = 0; pos < sizeOfArray; pos++)

{
sum = sum + array[pos];
// add grade in array position pos to sum
}

return float(sum)/sizeOfArray;
}

Notice that a set of empty brackets [ ] follows the parameter of an array which
indicates that the data type of this parameter is in fact an array. Notice also that
no brackets appear in the call to the functions that receive the array.

Since arrays in C++ are passed by pointer, which is similar to pass by reference,
it allows the original array to be altered, even though no & is used to designate
this. The getData function is thus able to store new values into the array. There
may be times when we do not want the function to alter the values of the array.
Inserting the word const before the data type on the formal parameter list pre-
vents the function from altering the array even though it is passed by pointer. This
is why in the preceding sample program the findAverage function and header
had the word const in front of the data type of the array.

float findAverage (const int array[], int sizeOfArray); // prototype

float findAverage (const int array[], int sizeOfArray) // function header
 Pre-lab Reading Assignment 119

The variable numberOfGrades contains the number of elements in the array to

be processed. In most cases not every element of the array is used, which means
the size of the array given in its definition and the number of actual elements
used are rarely the same. For that reason we often pass the actual number of
ele- ments used in the array as a parameter to a procedure that uses the array.
The variable numberOfGrades is explicitly passed by reference (by using &) to
the getData function where its corresponding formal parameter is called
sizeOfArray.

Prototypes can be written without named parameters. Function headers must

include named parameters.

float findAverage (const int [], int); // prototype without named parameters

The use of brackets in function prototypes and headings can be avoided by

declaring a programmer defined data type. This is done in the global section
with a typedef statement.

Example: typedef int GradeType[50];

This declares a data type, called GradeType, that is an array containing 50 inte-
ger memory locations. Since GradeType is a data type, it can be used in defining
variables. The following defines grades as an integer array with 50 elements.

GradeType grades;

It has become a standard practice (although not a requirement) to use an upper-

case letter to begin the name of a data type. It is also helpful to include the word
“type” in the name to indicate that it is a data type and not a variable.

Sample Program 7.2 shows the revised code (in bold) of Sample Program 7.1 using
typedef.

Sample Program 7.2:

// Grade average program
// This program illustrates how one-dimensional arrays are used and how
// they are passed as arguments to functions. It contains two functions.
// The first function is called to input a set of grades and store them
// in an array. The second function is called to find the average grade.

#include <iostream>
using namespace std;

const int TOTALGRADES = 50; // maximum size of the array

// function prototypes

typedef int GradeType[TOTALGRADES]; // declaration of an integer array data type

// called GradeType

continues
120 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

void getData(GradeType array, int& sizeOfArray);

// the procedure that will read values into the array

float findAverage(const GradeType array, int sizeOfArray);

// the procedure that will find the average of values
// stored in an array. The word const in front of the
// data type of the array prevents the function from
// altering the array

int main()
{
GradeType grades; // defines an array that holds up to 50 ints
int numberOfGrades = 0; // the number of grades read in
float average; // the average of all grades read in

getData(grades, numberOfGrades);// getData is called to read the grades into

// the array and store how many grades there
// are in numberOfGrades

average = findAverage(grades, numberOfGrades);

cout << endl << "The average of the " << numberOfGrade
<< " grades read in is " << average << "." << endl << endl;

return 0;
}

//***********************************************************************
// getData
//
// task: This function inputs and stores data in the grades array.
// data in: none
// data out: an array containing grades and the number of grades
//***********************************************************************

void getData(GradeType array, int& sizeOfArray)

{
int pos = 0; // array index which starts at 0
int grade; // holds each individual grade read in

cout << "Please input a grade or type -99 to stop: " << endl;
cin >> grade;

while (grade != -99)

{
array[pos] = grade; // store grade read in to next array location
pos ++; // increment array index

cout << "Please input a grade or type -99 to stop: " << endl;
cin >> grade;
}
 Pre-lab Reading Assignment 121

sizeOfArray = pos; // upon exiting the loop, pos holds the

// number of grades read in, which is sent
// back to the calling function
}

//****************************************************************************
// findAverage
//
// task: This function finds and returns the average of the values
//
// data in: the array containing grades and the array size
// data returned: the average of the grades contained in that array
//****************************************************************************

float findAverage (const GradeType array, int sizeOfArray)

{
int sum = 0; // holds the sum of all grades in the array

for (int pos = 0; pos < sizeOfArray; pos++)

{
sum = sum + array[pos];
// add grade in array position pos to sum
}

return float(sum)/sizeOfArray;
}

This method of using typedef to eliminate brackets in function prototypes and

headings is especially useful for multi-dimensional arrays such as those intro-
duced in the next section.

Two-Dimensional Arrays
Data is often contained in a table of rows and columns that can be implement-
ed with a two-dimensional array. Suppose we want to read data representing
profits (in thousands) for a particular year and quarter.
Quarter 1 Quarter 2 Quarter 3 Quarter 4
72 80 10 100
82 90 43 42
10 87 48 53
This can be done using a two-dimensional array.

Example:
const NO_OF_ROWS = 3;
const NO_OF_COLS = 4;

typedef float ProfitType[NO_OF_ROWS][NO_OF_COLS]; //declares a new data type

//which is a 2 dimensional
//array of floats

continues
122 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

int main()
{
ProfitType profit; // defines profit as a 2 dimensional array

for (int row_pos = 0; row_pos < NO_OF_ROWS; row_pos++)

for (int col_pos = 0; col_pos < NO_OF_COLS; col_pos++)
{
cout << "Please input a profit" << endl;
cin >> profit[row_pos][col_pos];
}
return 0;
}

A two dimensional array normally uses two loops (one nested inside the other)
to read, process, or output data.
How many times will the code above ask for a profit? It processes the inner
loop NO_OF_ROWS * NO_OF_COLS times, which is 12 times in this case.

Multi-Dimensional Arrays
C++ arrays can have any number of dimensions (although more than three is rarely
used). To input, process or output every item in an n-dimensional array, you
need n nested loops.

Arrays of Strings
Any variable defined as char holds only one character. To hold more than one
character in a single variable, that variable needs to be an array of characters. A
string (a group of characters that usually form meaningful names or words) is
really just an array of characters. A complete lesson on characters and strings
is given in Lesson Set 10.

PRE - L AB W RI TI N G AS S I GNMEN T

Fill-in-the-Blank Questions
1. The first subscript of every array in C++ is and the last is
less than the total number of locations in the array.
2. The amount of memory allocated to an array is based on the
and the of locations
or size of the array.
3. Array initialization and processing is usually done inside a
.
4. The statement can be used to declare an array type and
is often used for multidimensional array declarations so that when passing
arrays as parameters, brackets do not have to be used.
5. Multi-dimensional arrays are usually processed within
loops.
6. Arrays used as arguments are always passed by .
 Lesson 7A 123

7. In passing an array as a parameter to a function that processes it, it is often

necessary to pass a parameter that holds the of
used in the array.
8. A string is an array of .
9. Upon exiting a loop that reads values into an array, the variable used as
a(n) to the array will contain the size of that array.
10. An n-dimensional array will be processed within nested
loops when accessing all members of the array.

L ES S ON 7 A

LAB 7.1 Working with One-Dimensional Arrays

Retrieve program testscore.cpp from the Lab 7 folder. The code is as follows:

// This program will read in a group of test scores (positive integers from 1 to 100)
// from the keyboard and then calculate and output the average score
// as well as the highest and lowest score. There will be a maximum of 100 scores.

// PLACE YOUR NAME HERE

#include <iostream>
using namespace std;

typedef int GradeType[100]; // declares a new data type:

// an integer array of 100 elements

float findAverage (const GradeType, int); // finds average of all grades

int findHighest (const GradeType, int); // finds highest of all grades
int findLowest (const GradeType, int); // finds lowest of all grades

int main()

{
GradeType grades; // the array holding the grades.
int numberOfGrades; // the number of grades read.
int pos; // index to the array.

float avgOfGrades; // contains the average of the grades.

int highestGrade; // contains the highest grade.
int lowestGrade; // contains the lowest grade.

// Read in the values into the array

pos = 0;
cout << "Please input a grade from 1 to 100, (or -99 to stop)" << endl;

continues
124 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

cin >> grades[pos];

while (grades[pos] != -99)

{

// Fill in the code to read the grades

numberOfGrades = ; // Fill blank with appropriate identifier

// call to the function to find average

avgOfGrades = findAverage(grades, numberOfGrades);

cout << endl << "The average of all the grades is " << avgOfGrades << endl;

// Fill in the call to the function that calculates highest grade

cout << endl << "The highest grade is " << highestGrade << endl;

// Fill in the call to the function that calculates lowest grade

// Fill in code to write the lowest to the screen

return 0;
}

//********************************************************************************
// findAverage
//
// task: This function receives an array of integers and its size.
// It finds and returns the average of the numbers in the array
// data in: array of floating point numbers
// data returned: average of the numbers in the array
//
//********************************************************************************

float findAverage (const GradeType array, int size)

float sum = 0; // holds the sum of all the numbers

for (int pos = 0; pos < size; pos++)

sum = sum + array[pos];

return (sum / size); //returns the average

}
 Lesson 7A 125

//****************************************************************************
// findHighest
//
// task: This function receives an array of integers and its size.
// It finds and returns the highest value of the numbers in the array
// data in: array of floating point numbers
// data returned: highest value of the numbers in the array
//
//****************************************************************************

int findHighest (const GradeType array, int size)

/ Fill in the code for this function

//****************************************************************************
// findLowest
//
// task: This function receives an array of integers and its size.
// It finds and returns the lowest value of the numbers in the array
// data in: array of floating point numbers
// data returned: lowest value of the numbers in the array
//
//****************************************************************************

int findLowest (const GradeType array, int size)

{
// Fill in the code for this function

Exercise 1: Complete this program as directed.

Exercise 2: Run the program with the following data: 90 45 73 62 -99
and record the output here:

Exercise 3: Modify your program from Exercise 1 so that it reads the informa-
tion from the gradfile.txt file, reading until the end of file is encoun-
tered. You will need to first retrieve this file from the Lab 7 folder and
place it in the same folder as your C++ source code. Run the program.
126 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

Lab 7.2 Strings as Arrays of Characters

Retrieve program student.cpp from the Lab 7 folder.

// This program will input an undetermined number of student names

// and a number of grades for each student. The number of grades is
// given by the user. The grades are stored in an array.
// Two functions are called for each student.
// One function will give the numeric average of their grades.
// The other function will give a letter grade to that average.
// Grades are assigned on a 10 point spread.
// 90-100 A 80-89 B 70-79 C 60-69 D Below 60 F

// PLACE YOUR NAME HERE

#include <iostream>
#include <iomanip>
using namespace std;

const int MAXGRADE = 25; // maximum number of grades per student

const int MAXCHAR = 30; // maximum characters used in a name

typedef char StringType30[MAXCHAR + 1];// character array data type for names
// having 30 characters or less.
typedef float GradeType[MAXGRADE]; // one dimensional integer array data type

float findGradeAvg(GradeType, int); // finds grade average by taking array of

// grades and number of grades as parameters

char findLetterGrade(float); // finds letter grade from average given

// to it as a parameter

int main()

{
StringType30 firstname, lastname;// two arrays of characters defined
int numOfGrades; // holds the number of grades
GradeType grades; // grades defined as a one dimensional array
float average; // holds the average of a student's grade
char moreInput; // determines if there is more input

cout << setprecision(2) << fixed << showpoint;

// Input the number of grades for each student

cout << "Please input the number of grades each student will receive." << endl
<< "This must be a number between 1 and " << MAXGRADE << " inclusive”
<< endl;

cin >> numOfGrades;

 Lesson 7A 127

while (numOfGrades > MAXGRADE || numOfGrades < 1)

{
cout << "Please input the number of grades for each student." << endl
<< "This must be a number between 1 and " << MAXGRADE
<< " inclusive\n";

cin >> numOfGrades;

// Input names and grades for each student

cout << "Please input a y if you want to input more students"

<< " any other character will stop the input" << endl;
cin >> moreInput;

while (moreInput == 'y' || moreInput == 'Y')

{
cout << "Please input the first name of the student" << endl;
cin >> firstname;
cout << endl << "Please input the last name of the student" << endl;
cin >> lastname;

for (int count = 0; count < numOfGrades; count++)

cout << endl << "Please input a grade" << endl;

// Fill in the input statement to place grade in the array

cout << firstname << " " << lastname << " has an average of ";

// Fill in code to get and print average of student to screen

// Fill in call to get and print letter grade of student to screen

cout << endl << endl << endl;

cout << "Please input a y if you want to input more students"
<< " any other character will stop the input" << endl;
cin >> moreInput;

return 0;
}

continues
128 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

//***********************************************************************
// findGradeAvg
//
// task: This function finds the average of the
// numbers stored in an array.
//
// data in: an array of integer numbers
// data returned: the average of all numbers in the array
//
//***********************************************************************

float findGradeAvg(GradeType array, int numGrades)

{
// Fill in the code for this function
}

//***********************************************************************
// findLetterGrade
//
// task: This function finds the letter grade for the number
// passed to it by the calling function
//
// data in: a floating point number
// data returned: the grade (based on a 10 point spread) based on the number
// passed to the function
//
//***********************************************************************

char findLetterGrade(float numGrade)

{
// Fill in the code for this function

Exercise 1: Complete the program by filling in the code. (Areas in bold)

Run the program with 3 grades per student using the sample data below.
Mary Brown 100 90 90
George Smith 90 30 50
Dale Barnes 80 78 82
Sally Dolittle 70 65 80
Conrad Bailer 60 58 71
You should get the following results:
Mary Brown has an average of 93.33 which gives the letter grade of A
George Smith has an average of 56.67 which gives the letter grade of F
Dale Barnes has an average of 80.00 which gives the letter grade of B
Sally Dolittle has an average of 71.67 which gives the letter grade of C
Conrad Bailer has an average of 63.00 which gives the letter grade of D
 Lesson 7B 129

L ES S ON 7 B
LAB 7.3 Working with Two-Dimensional Arrays
Look at the following table containing prices of certain items:
12.78 23.78 45.67 12.67
7.83 4.89 5.99 56.84
13.67 34.84 16.71 50.89
These numbers can be read into a two-dimensional array.
Retrieve price.cpp from the Lab 7 folder. The code is as follows:

// This program will read in prices and store them into a two-dimensional array.
// It will print those prices in a table form.

// PLACE YOUR NAME HERE

#include <iostream>
#include <iomanip>
using namespace std;

const MAXROWS = 10;

const MAXCOLS = 10;

typedef float PriceType[MAXROWS][MAXCOLS]; // creates a new data type

// of a 2D array of floats

void getPrices(PriceType, int&, int&); // gets the prices into the array
void printPrices(PriceType, int, int); // prints data as a table

int main()

{
int rowsUsed; // holds the number of rows used
int colsUsed; // holds the number of columns used
PriceType priceTable; // a 2D array holding the prices

getPrices(priceTable, rowsUsed, colsUsed); // calls getPrices to fill the array

printPrices(priceTable, rowsUsed, colsUsed);// calls printPrices to display array

return 0;
}

continues
130 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

//*******************************************************************************
// getPrices
//
// task: This procedure asks the user to input the number of rows and
// columns. It then asks the user to input (rows * columns) number of
// prices. The data is placed in the array.
// data in: none
// data out: an array filled with numbers and the number of rows
// and columns used.
//
//*******************************************************************************

void getPrices(PriceType table, int& numOfRows, int& numOfCols)

{

cout << "Please input the number of rows from 1 to "<< MAXROWS << endl;
cin >> numOfRows;

cout << "Please input the number of columns from 1 to "<< MAXCOLS << endl;
cin >> numOfCols;

for (int row = 0; row < numOfRows; row++)

{
for (int col = 0; col < numOfCols; col++)

// Fill in the code to read and store the next value in the array
}
}

//***************************************************************************
// printPrices
//
// task: This procedure prints the table of prices
// data in: an array of floating point numbers and the number of rows
// and columns used.
// data out: none
//
//****************************************************************************

void printPrices(PriceType table, int numOfRows, int numOfCols)

{

cout << fixed << showpoint << setprecision(2);

for (int row = 0; row < numOfRows; row++)

{
for (int col = 0; col < numOfCols; col++)

// Fill in the code to print the table

}
}
 Lesson 7B 131

Exercise 1: Fill in the code to complete both functions getPrices and

printPrices, then run the program with the following data:

Exercise 2: Why does getPrices have the parameters numOfRows and

numOfCols passed by reference whereas printPrices has those parameters
passed by value?
Exercise 3: The following code is a function that returns the highest price in
the array. After studying it very carefully, place the function in the above
program and have the program print out the highest value.
float findHighestPrice(PriceType table, int numOfRows, int numOfCols)
// This function returns the highest price in the array
{

float highestPrice;

highestPrice = table[0][0]; // make first element the highest price

for (int row = 0; row < numOfRows; row++)

for (int col = 0; col < numOfCols; col++)
if ( highestPrice < table[row][col] )

highestPrice = table[row][col];

return highestPrice;
}

continues
132 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

NOTE: This is a value returning function. Be sure to include its prototype

in the global section.
Exercise 4: Create another value returning function that finds the lowest price
in the array and have the program print that value.
Exercise 5: After completing all the exercises above, run the program again
with the values from Exercise 1 and record your results.
Exercise 6: (Optional) Look at the following table that contains quarterly sales
transactions for three years of a small company. Each of the quarterly
transactions are integers (number of sales) and the year is also an integer.
YEAR Quarter 1 Quarter 2 Quarter 3 Quarter 4
2000 72 80 60 100
2001 82 90 43 98
2002 64 78 58 84
We could use a two-dimensional array consisting of 3 rows and 5 columns.
Even though there are only four quarters we need 5 columns (the first
column holds the year).
Retrieve quartsal.cpp from the Lab 7 folder. The code is as follows:

// This program will read in the quarterly sales transactions for a given number
// of years. It will print the year and transactions in a table format.
// It will calculate year and quarter total transactions.

// PLACE YOUR NAME HERE

#include <iostream>
#include <iomanip>
using namespace std;

const MAXYEAR = 10;

const MAXCOL = 5;

typedef int SalesType[MAXYEAR][MAXCOL]; // creates a new 2D integer data type

void getSales(SalesType, int&); // places sales figures into the array

void printSales(SalesType, int); // prints data as a table
void printTableHeading(); // prints table heading

int main()

{
int yearsUsed; // holds the number of years used

SalesType sales; // 2D array holding

// the sales transactions

getSales(sales, yearsUsed); // calls getSales to put data in array

 Lesson 7B 133

printTableHeading(); // calls procedure to print the heading

printSales(sales, yearsUsed); // calls printSales to display table

return 0;
}

//*****************************************************************************
// printTableHeading
// task: This procedure prints the table heading
// data in: none
// data out: none
//
//*****************************************************************************

void printTableHeading()

{
cout << setw(30) << "YEARLY QUARTERLY SALES" << endl << endl << endl;

cout << setw(10) << "YEAR" << setw(10) << "Quarter 1"
<< setw(10) << "Quarter 2" << setw(10) << "Quarter 3"
<< setw(10) << "Quarter 4" << endl;
}

//*****************************************************************************
// getSales
//
// task: This procedure asks the user to input the number of years.
// For each of those years it asks the user to input the year
// (e.g. 2004), followed by the sales figures for each of the
// 4 quarters of that year. That data is placed in a 2D array
// data in: a 2D array of integers
// data out: the total number of years
//
//*****************************************************************************

void getSales(SalesType table, int& numOfYears)

{

cout << "Please input the number of years (1-" << MAXYEAR << ')' << endl;
cin >> numOfYears;

// Fill in the code to read and store the next value

continues
134 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

//*****************************************************************************
// printSales
//
// task: This procedure prints out the information in the array
// data in: an array containing sales information
// data out: none
//
//*****************************************************************************

void printSales(SalesType table, int numOfYears)

{
// Fill in the code to print the table
}

Fill in the code for both getSales and printSales.

This is similar to the price.cpp program in Exercise 1; however, the
code will be different. This is a table that contains something other than
sales in column one.
Exercise 7: Run the program so that the chart from Exercise 6 is printed.

LAB 7.4 Student Generated Code Assignments

Option 1: Write the complete age population program given in the Pre-lab
Reading Assignment.
Statement of the problem:
Given a list of ages (1 to 100) from the keyboard, the program will tally
how many people are in each age group.

Sample Run:
 Lesson 7B 135

Option 2: Write a program that will input temperatures for consecutive days.
The program will store these values into an array and call a function that
will return the average of the temperatures. It will also call a function that
will return the highest temperature and a function that will return the
lowest temperature. The user will input the number of temperatures to be
read. There will be no more than 50 temperatures. Use typedef to declare
the array type. The average should be displayed to two decimal places.

Sample Run:

Option 3: Write a program that will input letter grades (A, B, C, D, F), the
number of which is input by the user (a maximum of 50 grades). The
grades will be read into an array. A function will be called five times (once
for each letter grade) and will return the total number of grades in that
category. The input to the function will include the array, number of
elements in the array and the letter category (A, B, C, D or F). The pro-
gram will print the number of grades that are A, B, etc.
136 LESSON SET 7 Arrays

Sample Run:
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
his sensitiveness to sounds, and had found that his ears turned back at the
faintest whisper, when suddenly his head rose, he looked sharply forward
toward a clump of trees on the river-bank, one hundred and fifty yards in
front of us, where a quick glance revealed to me a camp-fire and two men
hurrying saddles upon their horses,—a gray and a sorrel.
They were Spaniards,—the same who had swum King’s River the
afternoon before, and, as it flashed on me finally, the two whom I had
studied so attentively at Visalia. Then I at once saw their purpose was to
waylay me, and made up my mind to give them a lively run. The road
followed the bank up to their camp in an easterly direction, and then,
turning a sharp right angle to the north, led out upon the open plain, leaving
the river finally.
I decided to strike across, and threw Kaweah into a sharp trot.
I glanced at my girth and then at the bright copper upon my pistol, and
settled myself firmly in the saddle.
Finding that they could not saddle quickly enough to attack me mounted,
the older villain grabbed a shot-gun, and sprung out to head me off, his
comrade meantime tightening the cinches.
I turned Kaweah farther off to the left, and tossed him a little more rein,
which he understood and sprang out into a gallop.
The robber brought his gun to his shoulder, covered me, and yelled, in
good English, “Hold on, you ——!” At that instant his companion dashed
up, leading the other horse. In another moment they were mounted and after
me, yelling, “Hu-hla” to the mustangs, plunging in the spurs, and shouting
occasional volleys of oaths.
By this time I had regained the road, which lay before me traced over the
blank, objectless plain in vanishing perspective. Fifteen miles lay between
me and a station; Kaweah and pistol were my only defence, yet at that
moment I felt a thrill of pleasure, a wild moment of inspiration, almost
worth the danger to experience.
I glanced over my shoulder and found that the Spaniards were crowding
their horses to their fullest speed; their hoofs, rattling on the dry plain, were
accompanied by inarticulate noises, like the cries of bloodhounds. Kaweah
comprehended the situation. I could feel his grand legs gather under me,
and the iron muscles contract with excitement; he tugged at the bit, shook
his bridle-chains, and flung himself impatiently into the air.
 It flashed upon me that perhaps they had confederates concealed in some
ditch far in advance of me, and that the plan was to crowd me through at
fullest speed, giving up the chase to new men and fresh horses; and I
resolved to save Kaweah to the utmost, and only allow him a speed which
should keep me out of gunshot. So I held him firmly, and reserved my spur
for the last emergency. Still we fairly flew over the plain, and I said to
myself, as the clatter of hoofs and din of my pursuers rang in my ears now
and then, as the freshening breeze hurried it forward, that, if those brutes
got me, there was nothing in blood and brains; for Kaweah was a prince
beside their mustangs, and I ought to be worth two villains.
For the first twenty minutes the road was hard and smooth and level;
after that gentle, shallow undulations began, and at last, at brief intervals,
were sharp, narrow arroyos (ditches eight or nine feet wide). I reined
Kaweah in, and brought him up sharply on their bottoms, giving him the bit
to spring up on the other side; but he quickly taught me better, and,
gathering, took them easily, without my feeling it in his stride.
The hot sun had arisen. I saw with anxiety that the tremendous speed
began to tell painfully on Kaweah. Foam tinged with blood fell from his
mouth, and sweat rolled in streams from his whole body, and now and then
he drew a deep-heaving breath. I leaned down and felt of the cinch to see if
it had slipped forward, but, as I had saddled him with great care, it kept its
true place, so I had only to fear the greasers behind, or a new relay ahead. I
was conscious of plenty of reserved speed in Kaweah, whose powerful run
was already distancing their fatigued mustangs.
As we bounded down a roll of the plain, a cloud of dust sprang from a
ravine directly in front of me, and two black objects lifted themselves in the
sand. I drew my pistol, cocked it, whirled Kaweah to the left, plunging by
and clearing them by about six feet; a thrill of relief came as I saw the long,
white horns of Spanish cattle gleam above the dust.
Unconsciously I restrained Kaweah too much, and in a moment the
Spaniards were crowding down upon me at a fearful rate. On they came, the
crash of their spurs and the clatter of their horses distinctly heard; and as I
had so often compared the beats of chronometers, I unconsciously noted
that while Kaweah’s, although painful, yet came with regular power, the
mustangs’ respiration was quick, spasmodic, and irregular. I compared the
intervals of the two mustangs, and found that one breathed better than the
other, and then, upon counting the best mustang with Kaweah, found that he
breathed nine breaths to Kaweah’s seven. In two or three minutes I tried it
again, finding the relation ten to seven; then I felt the victory, and I yelled to
Kaweah. The thin ears shot flat back upon his neck; lower and lower he lay
down to his run; I flung him a loose rein, and gave him a friendly pat on the
withers. It was a glorious burst of speed; the wind rushed by and the plain
swept under us with dizzying swiftness. I shouted again, and the thing of
nervous life under me bounded on wilder and faster, till I could feel his
spine thrill as with shocks from a battery. I managed to look round,—a
delicate matter at speed,—and saw, far behind, the distanced villains, both
dismounted, and one horse fallen.
In an instant I drew Kaweah in to a gentle trot, looking around every
moment, lest they should come on me unawares. In a half-mile I reached
the station, and I was cautiously greeted by a man who sat by the barn door,
with a rifle across his knees. He had seen me come over the plain, and had
also seen the Spanish horse fall. Not knowing but he might be in league
with the robbers, I gave him a careful glance before dismounting, and was
completely reassured by an expression of terror which had possession of his
countenance.
I sprang to the ground and threw off the saddle, and after a word or two
with the man, who proved to be the sole occupant of this station, we fell to
work together upon Kaweah, my cocked pistol and his rifle lying close at
hand. We sponged the creature’s mouth, and, throwing a sheet over him,
walked him regularly up and down for about three quarters of an hour, and
then taking him upon the open plain, where we could scan the horizon in all
directions, gave him a thorough grooming. I never saw him look so
magnificently as when we led him down to the creek to drink: his skin was
like satin, and the veins of his head and neck stood out firm and round like
whip-cords.
In the excitement of taking care of Kaweah I had scarcely paid any
attention to my host, but after two hours, when the horse was quietly
munching his hay, I listened attentively to his story.
The two Spaniards had lurked round his station during the night, guns in
hand, and had made an attempt to steal a pair of stage horses from the
stable, but, as he had watched with his rifle, they finally rode away.
 By his account I knew them to be my pursuers; they had here, however,
ridden two black mustangs, and had doubtless changed their mount for the
sole purpose of waylaying me.
About eleven o’clock, it being my turn to watch the horizon, I saw two
horsemen making a long détour round the station, disappearing finally in
the direction of Millerton. By my glass I could only make out that they were
men riding in single file on a sorrel and a gray horse; but this, with the fact
of the long détour, which finally brought them back into the road again,
convinced me that they were my enemies. The uncomfortable probability of
their raising a band, and returning to make sure of my capture, filled me
with disagreeable foreboding, and all day long, whether my turn at sentinel
duty or not, I did little else than range my eye over the valley in all
directions.
Twice during the day I led Kaweah out and paced him to and fro, for fear
his tremendous exertion would cause a stiffening of the legs; but each time
he followed close to my shoulder with the same firm, proud step, and I
gloried in him.
Shortly after dark I determined to mount and push forward to Millerton,
my friend, the station man, having given me careful directions as to its
position; and I knew from the topography of the country that, by
abandoning the road and travelling by the stars, I could not widely miss my
mark; so at about nine o’clock I saddled Kaweah, and, mounting, bade
good-by to my friend.
The air was bland, the heavens cloudless and starlit; in the west a low
arch of light, out of which had faded the last traces of sunset color; in the
east a silver dawn shone mild and pure above the Sierras, brightening as the
light in the west faded, till at last one jetty crag was cut upon the disk of
rising moon.
Upon the light gray tone of the plain every object might be seen, and as I
rode on the memory of danger passed away, leaving me in full enjoyment of
companionship with the hour and with my friend Kaweah, whose sturdy,
easy stride was in itself a delight. There is a charm peculiar to these soft,
dewless nights. It seems the perfection of darkness in which you get all the
rest of sleep while riding, or lying wide awake on your blankets. Now and
then an object, vague and unrecognized, loomed out of dusky distance,
arresting our attention, for Kaweah’s quick eye usually found them first:
dead carcases of starved cattle, a blanched skull, or stump of aged oak, were
the only things seen, and we gradually got accustomed to these, passing
with no more than a glance.
At last we approached a region of low, rolling sand-hills, where
Kaweah’s tread became muffled, and the silence so oppressive as to call out
from me a whistle. That instrument proved excellent in Traviata solos; but,
when I attempted some of Chopin, failed so painfully that I was glad to be
diverted by arriving at the summit of the zone of hills, and looking out upon
the wide, shallow valley of the San Joaquin, a plain dotted with groves, and
lighted here and there by open reaches of moonlit river.
I looked up and down, searching for lights which should mark Millerton.
I had intended to strike the river above the settlement, and should now, if
my reckoning was correct, be within half a mile of it.
Riding down to the river-bank, I dismounted, and allowed Kaweah to
quench his thirst. The cool mountain water, fresh from the snow, was
delicious to him. He drank, stopped to breathe, and drank again and again. I
allowed him also to feed a half-moment on the grass by the river-bank, and
then, remounting, headed down the river, and rode slowly along under the
shadow of trees, following a broad, well-beaten trail, which led, as I
believed, to the village.
While in a grove of oaks, jingling spurs suddenly sounded ahead, and
directly I heard voices. I quickly turned Kaweah from the trail, and tied him
a few rods off, behind a thicket, then crawled back into a bunch of buckeye
bushes, disturbing some small birds, who took flight. In a moment two
horsemen, talking Spanish, neared, and as they passed I recognized their
horses, and then the men. The impulse to try a shot was so strong that I got
out my revolver, but upon second thought put it up. As they rode on into the
shadow, the younger, as I judged by his voice, broke out into a delicious
melody, one of those passionate Spanish songs with a peculiar, throbbing
cadence, which he emphasized by sharply ringing his spurs.
These Californian scoundrels are invariably light-hearted; crime cannot
overshadow the exhilaration of outdoor life; remorse and gloom are
banished like clouds before this perennially sunny climate. They make
amusement out of killing you, and regard a successful plundering time as a
sort of pleasantry.
 As the soft, full tones of my bandit died in distance, I went for Kaweah,
and rode rapidly westward in the opposite direction, bringing up soon in the
outskirts of Millerton, just as the last gamblers were closing up their little
games, and about the time the drunk were conveying one another home.
Kaweah being stabled, I went to the hotel, an excellent and orderly
establishment, where a colored man of mild manners gave me supper and
made me at home by gentle conversation, promising at last to wake me
early, and bidding me good-night at my room door with the tones of an old
friend. I think his soothing spirit may partly account for the genuinely
profound sleep into which I quickly fell, and which held me fast bound,
until his hand on my shoulder and “Half-past four, sir,” called me back, and
renewed the currents of consciousness.
After we had had our breakfast, Kaweah and I forded the San Joaquin,
and I at once left the road, determined to follow a mountain trail which led
toward Mariposa. The trail proved a good one to travel, of smooth, soft
surface, and pleasant in its diversity of ups and downs, and with rambling
curves, which led through open regions of brown hills, whose fern and
grass were ripened to a common yellow-brown; then among park-like
slopes, crowned with fine oaks, and occasional pine woods, the ground
frequently covering itself with clumps of such shrubs as chaparral, and the
never-enough-admired manzanita. Yet I think I never saw such facilities for
an ambuscade. I imagined the path went out of its way to thread every
thicket, and the very trees grouped themselves with a view to highway
robbery.
I soon, though, got tired looking out for my Spaniards, and became
assured of having my ride to myself when I studied the trail, and found that
Kaweah’s were the first tracks of the day.
Riding thus in the late summer along the Sierra foot-hills, one is
constantly impressed with the climatic peculiarities of the region. With us in
the East, plant life seems to continue until it is at last put out by cold, the
trees appear to grow till the first frosts; but in the Sierra foot-hills growth
and active life culminate in June and early July, and then follow long
months of warm, stormless autumn, wherein the hills grow slowly browner,
and the whole air seems to ripen into a fascinating repose,—a rich, dreamy
quiet, with distance lost behind pearly hazes, with warm, tranquil nights,
dewless and silent. This period is wealthy in yellows and russets and
browns, in great, overhanging masses of oak, whose olive hue is warmed
into umber depth, in groves of serious pines, red of bark, and cool in the
dark greenness of their spires. Nature wears an aspect of patient waiting for
a great change; ripeness, existence beyond the accomplishment of the
purpose of life, a long, pleasant, painless waiting for death,—these are the
conditions of the vegetation; and it is vegetation more than the peculiar
appearance of the air which impresses the strange character of the season. It
is as if our August should grow rich and ripe, through cloudless days and
glorious, warm nights, on till February, and then wake as from sleep, to
break out in the bloom of May.
I was delighted to ride thus alone, and expose myself, as one uncovers a
sensitized photographic plate, to be influenced; for this is a respite from
scientific work, when through months you hold yourself accountable for
seeing everything, for analyzing, for instituting perpetual comparison, and,
as it were, sharing in the administering of the physical world. No tongue
can tell the relief to simply withdraw scientific observation, and let Nature
impress you in the dear old way with all her mystery and glory, with those
vague, indescribable emotions which tremble between wonder and
sympathy.
Behind me in distance stretched the sere plain where Kaweah’s run
saved me. To the west, fading out into warm, blank distance, lay the great
valley of San Joaquin, into which, descending by sinking curves, were
rounded hills, with sunny, brown slopes softened as to detail by a low,
clinging bank of milky air. Now and then out of the haze to the east
indistinct rosy peaks, with dull, silvery snow-marblings, stood dimly up
against the sky, and higher yet a few sharp summits lifted into the clearer
heights seemed hung there floating. Quite in harmony with this was the
little group of Dutch settlements I passed, where an antique-looking man
and woman sat together on a veranda sunning their white hair, and silently
smoking old porcelain pipes.
Nor was there any element of incongruity at the rancheria where I
dismounted to rest shortly after noon. A few sleepy Indians lay on their
backs dreaming, the good-humored, stout squaws nursing pappooses, or
lying outstretched upon red blankets. The agreeable harmony was not alone
from the Indian summer in their blood, but in part as well from the features
of their dress and facial expression. Their clothes, of Caucasian origin,
quickly fade out into utter barbarism, toning down to warm, dirty timbers,
never failing to be relieved, here and there, by ropes of blue and white
beads, or head-band and girdle of scarlet cloth.
Toward the late afternoon, trotting down a gentle forest slope, I came in
sight of a number of ranch buildings grouped about a central open space. A
small stream flowed by the outbuildings, and wound among chaparral-
covered spurs below. Considerable crops of grain had been gathered into a
corral, and a number of horses were quietly straying about. Yet with all the
evidences of considerable possessions the whole place had an air of
suspicious mock-sleepiness. Riding into the open square, I saw that one of
the buildings was a store, and to this I rode, tying Kaweah to the piazza
post.
I thought the whole world slumbered when I beheld the sole occupant of
this country store, a red-faced man in pantaloons and shirt, who lay on his
back upon a counter fast asleep, the handle of a revolver grasped in his right
hand. It seemed to me if I were to wake him up a little too suddenly he
might misunderstand my presence and do some accidental damage; so I
stepped back and poked Kaweah, making him jump and clatter his hoofs,
and at once the proprietor sprang to the door, looking flustered and uneasy.
I asked him if he could accommodate me for the afternoon and night,
and take care of my horse; to which he replied, in a very leisurely manner,
that there was a bed, and something to eat, and hay, and that if I was
inclined to take the chances I might stay.
Being in mind to take the chances, I did stay, and my host walked out
with me to the corral, and showed me where to get Kaweah’s hay and grain.
I loafed about for an hour or two, finding that a Chinese cook was the
only other human being in sight, and then concluded to pump the landlord.
A half-hour’s trial thoroughly disgusted me, and I gave it up as a bad job. I
did, however, learn that he was a man of Southern birth, of considerable
education, which a brutal life and depraved mind had not been able to fully
obliterate. He seemed to care very little for his business, which indeed was
small enough, for during the time I spent there not a single customer made
his appearance. The stock of goods I observed on examination to be chiefly
fire-arms, every manner of gambling apparatus, and liquors; the few pieces
of stuffs, barrels, and boxes of groceries appeared to be disposed rather as
ornaments than for actual sale.
 From each of the man’s trousers’ pockets protruded the handle of a
derringer, and behind his counter were arranged in convenient position two
or three double-barrelled shot-guns.
I remarked to him that he seemed to have a handily arranged arsenal, at
which he regarded me with a cool, quiet stare, polished the handle of one of
his derringers upon his trousers, examined the percussion-cap with great
deliberation, and then, with a nod of the head intended to convey great
force, said, “You don’t live in these parts,”—a fact for which I felt not
unthankful.
The man drank brandy freely and often, and at intervals of about half an
hour called to his side a plethoric old cat named “Gospel,” stroked her with
nervous rapidity, swearing at the same time in so distrait and unconscious a
manner that he seemed mechanically talking to himself.
Whoever has travelled on the West Coast has not failed to notice the
fearful volleys of oaths which the oxen-drivers hurl at their teams, but for
ingenious flights of fancy profanity I have never met the equal of my host.
With the most perfect good-nature and in unmoved continuance he uttered
florid blasphemies, which, I think, must have taken hours to invent. I was
glad, when bedtime came, to be relieved of his presence, and especially
pleased when he took me to the little separate building in which was a
narrow, single bed. Next this building on the left was the cook-house and
dining-room, and upon the right lay his own sleeping apartment. Directly
across the square, and not more than sixty feet off, was the gate of the
corral, which creaked on its rusty hinges, when moved, in the most dismal
manner.
As I lay upon my bed I could hear Kaweah occasionally stamp; the
snoring of the Chinaman on one side, and the low, mumbled conversation
of my host and his squaw on the other. I felt no inclination to sleep, but lay
there in half-doze, quite conscious, yet withdrawn from the present.
I think it must have been about eleven o’clock when I heard the clatter of
a couple of horsemen, who galloped up to my host’s building and sprang to
the ground, their Spanish spurs ringing on the stone. I sat up in bed, grasped
my pistol, and listened. The peach-tree next my window rustled. The horses
moved about so restlessly that I heard but little of the conversation, but that
little I found of personal interest to myself.
 I give as nearly as I can remember the fragments of dialogue between
my host and the man whom I recognized as the older of my two robbers.
“When did he come?”
“Wall, the sun might have been about four hours.”
“Has his horse give out?”
I failed to hear the answer, but was tempted to shout out “No!”
“Gray coat, buckskin breeches.” (My dress.)
“Going to Mariposa at seven in the morning.”
“I guess I wouldn’t round here.”
A low, muttered soliloquy in Spanish wound up with a growl.
“No, Antone, not within a mile of the place. ‘Sta buen.’ ”
Out of the compressed jumble of the final sentence I got but the one
word, “buckshot.”
The Spaniards mounted and the sound of their spurs and horses’ hoofs
soon died away in the north, and I lay for half an hour revolving all sorts of
plans. The safest course seemed to be to slip out in the darkness and fly on
foot to the mountains, abandoning my good Kaweah; but I thought of his
noble run, and it seemed to me so wrong to turn my back on him that I
resolved to unite our fate. I rose cautiously, and, holding my watch up to the
moon, found that twelve o’clock had just passed, then taking from my
pocket a five-dollar gold piece, I laid it upon the stand by my bed, and in
my stocking feet, with my clothes in my hand, started noiselessly for the
corral. A fierce bull-dog, which had shown no disposition to make friends
with me, bounded from the open door of the proprietor to my side. Instead
of tearing me, as I had expected, he licked my hands and fawned about my
feet.
Reaching the corral gate, I dreaded opening it at once, remembering the
rusty hinges, so I hung my clothes upon an upper bar of the fence, and,
cautiously lifting the latch, began to push back the gate, inch by inch, an
operation which required eight or ten minutes; then I walked up to Kaweah
and patted him. His manger was empty; he had picked up the last kernel of
barley. The creature’s manner was full of curiosity, as if he had never been
approached in the night before. Suppressing his ordinary whinnying, he
preserved a motionless, statue-like silence. I was in terror lest by a neigh, or
some nervous movement, he should waken the sleeping proprietor and
expose my plan.
The corral and the open square were half covered with loose stones, and
when I thought of the clatter of Kaweah’s shoes I experienced a feeling of
trouble, and again meditated running off on foot, until the idea struck me of
muffling the iron feet. Ordinarily Kaweah would not allow me to lift his
forefeet at all. The two blacksmiths who shod him had done so at the peril
of their lives, and whenever I had attempted to pick up his hind feet he had
warned me away by dangerous stamps; so I approached him very timidly,
and was surprised to find that he allowed me to lift all four of his feet
without the slightest objection. As I stooped down he nosed me over, and
nibbled playfully at my hat. In constant dread lest he should make some
noise, I hurried to muffle his forefeet with my trousers and shirt, and then,
with rather more care, to tie upon his hind feet my coat and drawers.
Knowing nothing of the country ahead of me, and fearing that I might
again have to run for it, I determined at all cost to water him. Groping about
the corral and barn, and at last finding a bucket, and descending through the
darkness to the stream, I brought him a full draught, which he swallowed
eagerly, when I tied my shoes on the saddle pommel, and led the horse
slowly out of the corral gate, holding him firmly by the bit, and feeling his
nervous breath pour out upon my hand.
When we had walked perhaps a quarter of a mile, I stopped and listened.
All was quiet, the landscape lying bright and distinct in full moonlight. I
unbound the wrappings, shook from them as much dust as possible, dressed
myself, and then, mounting, started northward on the Mariposa trail with
cocked pistol.
In the soft dust we travelled noiselessly for a mile or so, passing from
open country into groves of oak and thickets of chaparral.
Without warning, I suddenly came upon a smouldering fire close by the
trail, and in the shadow descried two sleeping forms, one stretched on his
back, snoring heavily, the other lying upon his face, pillowing his head
upon folded arms.
I held my pistol aimed at one of the wretches, and rode by without
wakening them, guiding Kaweah in the thickest dust.
It keyed me up to a high pitch. I turned around in the saddle, leaving
Kaweah to follow the trail, and kept my eyes riveted on the sleeping forms,
until they were lost in distance, and then I felt safe.
We galloped over many miles of trail, enjoying a sunrise, and came at
last to Mariposa, where I deposited my gold, and then went to bed and
made up my lost sleep.
 VII

AROUND YOSEMITE WALLS

1864
Late in the afternoon of October 5, 1864, a party of us reached the edge of
Yosemite, and, looking down into the valley, saw that the summer haze had
been banished from the region by autumnal frosts and wind. We looked in
the gulf through air as clear as a vacuum, discerning small objects upon
valley-floor and cliff-front. That splendid afternoon shadow which divides
the face of El Capitan was projected far up and across the valley, cutting it
in halves,—one a mosaic of russets and yellows with dark pine and glimpse
of white river; the other a cobalt-blue zone, in which the familiar groves
and meadows were suffused with shadow-tones.
It is hard to conceive a more pointed contrast than this same view in
October and June. Then, through a slumberous yet transparent atmosphere,
you look down upon emerald freshness of green, upon arrowy rush of
swollen river, and here and there, along pearly cliffs, as from the clouds,
tumbles white, silver dust of cataracts. The voice of full, soft winds swells
up over rustling leaves, and, pulsating, throbs like the beating of far-off
surf. All stern sublimity, all geological terribleness, are veiled away behind
magic curtains of cloud-shadow and broken light. Misty brightness, glow of
cliff and sparkle of foam, wealth of beautiful details, the charm of pearl and
emerald, cool gulfs of violet shade stretching back in deep recesses of the
walls,—these are the features which lie under the June sky.
Now all that has gone. The shattered fronts of walls stand out sharp and
terrible, sweeping down in broken crag and cliff to a valley whereon the
shadow of autumnal death has left its solemnity. There is no longer an air of
beauty. In this cold, naked strength, one has crowded on him the geological
record of mountain work, of granite plateau suddenly rent asunder, of the
slow, imperfect manner in which Nature has vainly striven to smooth her
rough work and bury the ruins with thousands of years’ accumulation of soil
and débris.
 Already late, we hurried to descend the trail, and were still following it
when darkness overtook us; but ourselves and the animals were so well
acquainted with every turn that we found no difficulty in continuing our
way to Longhurst’s house, and here we camped for the night.
By an act of Congress the Yosemite Valley had been segregated from the
public domain, and given—“donated,” as they call it—to the State of
California, to be held inalienable for all time as a public pleasure-ground.
The Commission into whose hands this trust devolved had sent Mr.
Gardiner and myself to make a survey defining the boundaries of the new
grant. It was necessary to execute this work before the Legislature should
meet in December, and we undertook it, knowing very well that we must
use the utmost haste in order to escape a three months’ imprisonment,—for
in early winter the immense Sierra snow-falls would close the doors of
mountain trails, and we should be unable to reach the lowlands until the
following spring.
The party consisted of my companion, Mr. Gardiner; Mr. Frederick A.
Clark, who had been detailed from the service of the Mariposa Company to
assist us; Longhurst, an habitué of the valley,—a weather-beaten round-the-
worlder, whose function in the party was to tell yarns, sing songs, and feed
the inner man; Cotter and Wilmer, chainmen; and two mules,—one which
was blind, and the other which, I aver, would have discharged his duty very
much better without eyes.
We had chosen as the head-quarters of the survey two little cabins under
the pine-trees near Black’s Hotel. They were central; they offered a shelter;
and from their doors, which opened almost upon the Merced itself, we
obtained a most delightful sunrise view of the Yosemite.
Next morning, in spite of early outcries from Longhurst, and a warning
solo of his performed with spoon and fry-pan, we lay in our comfortable
blankets pretending to enjoy the effect of sunrise light upon the Yosemite
cliff and fall, all of us unwilling to own that we were tired out and needed
rest. Breakfast had waited an hour or more when we got a little weary of
beds and yielded to the temptation of appetite.
A family of Indians, consisting of two huge girls and their parents, sat
silently waiting for us to commence, and, after we had begun, watched
every mouthful from the moment we got it successfully impaled upon the
camp forks, a cloud darkening their faces as it disappeared forever down
our throats.
But we quite lost our spectators when Longhurst came upon the boards
as a flapjack-frier,—a rôle to which he bent his whole intelligence, and with
entire success. Scorning such vulgar accomplishment as turning the cake
over in mid-air, he slung it boldly up, turning it three times,—ostentatiously
greasing the pan with a fine, centrifugal movement, and catching the
flapjack as it fluttered down,—and spanked it upon the hot coals with a
touch at once graceful and masterly.
I failed to enjoy these products, feeling as if I were breakfasting in
sacrilege upon works of art. Not so our Indian friends, who wrestled
affectionately for frequent unfortunate cakes which would dodge Longhurst
and fall into the ashes.
By night we had climbed to the top of the northern wall, camping at the
head-waters of a small brook, named by emotional Mr. Hutchings, I believe,
the Virgin’s Tears, because from time to time from under the brow of a cliff
just south of El Capitan there may be seen a feeble water-fall. I suspect this
sentimental pleasantry is intended to bear some relation to the Bridal Veil
Fall opposite. If it has any such force at all, it is a melancholy one, given by
unusual gauntness and an aged aspect, and by the few evanescent tears
which this old virgin sheds.
A charming camp-ground was formed by bands of russet meadow
wandering in vistas through a stately forest of dark green fir-trees unusually
feathered to the base. Little, mahogany-colored pools surrounded with
sphagnum lay in the meadows, offering pleasant contrast of color. Our
camp-ground was among clumps of thick firs, which completely walled in
the fire, and made close, overhanging shelters for table and beds.
Gardiner, Cotter, and I felt thankful to our thermometer for owning up
frankly the chill of the next morning, as we left a generous camp-fire and
marched off through fir forest and among brown meadows and bare ridges
of rock toward El Capitan. This grandest of granite precipices is capped by
a sort of forehead of stone sweeping down to level, severe brows, which jut
out a few feet over the edge. A few weather-beaten, battle-twisted, and
black pines cling in clefts, contrasting in force with the solid white stone.
We hung our barometer upon a stunted tree quite near the brink, and,
climbing cautiously down, stretched ourselves out upon an overhanging
block of granite, and looked over into the Yosemite Valley.
The rock fell under us in one sheer sweep of thirty-two hundred feet;
upon its face we could trace the lines of fracture and all prominent
lithological changes. Directly beneath, outspread like a delicately tinted
chart, lay the lovely park of Yosemite, winding in and out about the solid
white feet of precipices which sank into it on either side; its sunlit surface
invaded by the shadow of the south wall; its spires of pine, open expanses
of buff and drab meadow, and families of umber oaks rising as background
for the vivid green river-margin and flaming orange masses of frosted
cottonwood foliage.
Deep in front the Bridal Veil brook made its way through the bottom of
an open gorge, and plunged off the edge of a thousand-foot cliff, falling in
white water-dust and drifting in pale, translucent clouds out over the tree-
tops of the valley.
Directly opposite us, and forming the other gatepost of the valley’s
entrance, rose the great mass of Cathedral Rocks,—a group quite suggestive
of the Florence Duomo.
But our grandest view was eastward, above the deep, sheltered valley
and over the tops of those terrible granite walls, out upon rolling ridges of
stone and wonderful granite domes. Nothing in the whole list of irruptive
products, except volcanoes themselves, is so wonderful as these domed
mountains. They are of every variety of conoidal form, having horizontal
sections accurately elliptical, ovoid, or circular, and profiles varying from
such semi-circles as the cap behind the Sentinel to the graceful, infinite
curves of the North Dome. Above and beyond these stretch back long, bare
ridges connecting with sunny summit peaks. The whole region is one solid
granite mass, with here and there shallow soil layers, and a thin, variable
forest which grows in picturesque mode, defining the leading lines of
erosion as an artist deepens here and there a line to hint at some structural
peculiarity.
A complete physical exposure of the range, from summit to base, lay
before us. At one extreme stand sharpened peaks, white in fretwork of
glistening icebank, or black where tower straight bolts of snowless rock; at
the other stretch away plains smiling with a broad, honest brown under
autumn sunlight. They are not quite lovable, even in distant tranquillity of
hue, and just escape being interesting, in spite of their familiar rivers and
associated belts of oaks. Nothing can ever render them quite charming, for
in the startling splendor of flower-clad April you are surfeited with an
embarrassment of beauty; at all other times stunned by their poverty. Not so
the summits; forever new, full of individuality, rich in detail, and coloring
themselves anew under every cloud change or hue of heaven, they lay you
under their spell.
From them the eye comes back over granite waves and domes to the
sharp precipice-edges overhanging Yosemite. We look down those vast,
hard, granite fronts, cracked and splintered, scarred and stained, down over
gorges crammed with débris, or dark with files of climbing pines. Lower
the precipice-feet are wrapped in meadow and grove, and beyond, level and
sunlit, lies the floor,—that smooth, river-cut park, with exquisite perfection
of finish.
The dome-like cap of Capitan is formed of concentric layers like the
peels of an onion, each one about two or three feet thick. Upon the
precipice itself, either from our station on an overhanging crevice, or from
any point of opposite cliff or valley bottom, this structure is seen to be
superficial, never descending more than a hundred feet.
In returning to camp we followed a main ridge, smooth and white under
foot, but shaded by groves of alpine firs. Trees which here reach mature
stature, and in apparent health, stand rooted in white gravel, resulting from
surface decomposition. I am sure their foliage is darker than can be
accounted for by effect of white contrasting earth. Wherever, in deep
depressions, enough wash soil and vegetable mould have accumulated,
there the trees gather in thicker groups, lift themselves higher, spread out
more and finer-feathered branches; sometimes, however, richness of soil
and perfection of condition prove fatal through overcrowding. They are
wonderfully like human communities. One may trace in an hour’s walk
nearly all the laws which govern the physical life of men.
Upon reaching camp we found Longhurst in a deep, religious calm,
happy in his mind, happy, too, in the posture of his body, which was
reclining at ease upon a comfortable blanket-pile before the fire; a verse of
the hymn “Coronation” escaped murmurously from his lips, rising at times
in shaky crescendos, accompanied by a waving and desultory movement of
the forefinger. He had found among our medicines a black bottle of brandy,
contrived to induce a mule to break it, and, just to save as much as possible
while it was leaking, drank with freedom. Anticipating any possible
displeasure of ours, Longhurst had collected his wits and arrived at a most
excellent dinner, crowning the repast with a duff, accurately globular, neatly
brecciated with abundant raisins, and drowned with a foaming sauce, to
which the last of the brandy imparted an almost pathetic flavor.
The evening closed with moral remark and spiritual song from
Longhurst, and the morning introduced us to our prosaic labor of running
the boundary line,—a task which consumed several weeks, and occupied
nearly all of our days. I once or twice found time to go down to the cliff-
edges again for the purpose of making my geological studies.
An excursion which Cotter and I made to the top of the Three Brothers
proved of interest. A half-hour’s walk from camp, over rolling granite
country, brought us to a ridge which jutted boldly out from the plateau to
the edge of the Yosemite wall. Upon the southern side of this eminence
heads a broad, débris-filled ravine, which descends to the valley bottom;
upon the other side the ridge sends down its waters along a steep declivity
into a lovely mountain basin, where, surrounded by forest, spreads out a
level expanse of emerald meadow, with a bit of blue lakelet in the midst.
The outlet of this little valley is through a narrow rift in the rocks leading
down into the Yosemite fall.
Along the crest of our jutting ridge we found smooth pathway, and soon
reached the summit. Here again we were upon the verge of a precipice, this
time four thousand two hundred feet high. Beneath us the whole upper half
of the valley was as clearly seen as the southern half had been from
Capitan. The sinuosities of the Merced, those narrow, silvery gleams which
indicated the channel of the Yosemite creek, the broad expanse of meadow,
and débris trains which had bounded down the Sentinel slope, were all laid
out under us, though diminished by immense depth.
The loftiest and most magnificent parts of the walls crowded in a semi-
circle in front of us; above them the domes, lifted even higher than
ourselves, swept down to the precipice-edges. Directly to our left we
overlooked the goblet-like recess into which the Yosemite tumbles, and
could see the white torrent leap through its granite lip, disappearing a
thousand feet below, hidden from our view by projecting crags; its roar
floating up to us, now resounding loudly, and again dying off in faint
reverberations like the sounding of the sea.
 Looking up upon the falls from the valley below, one utterly fails to
realize the great depth of the semi-circular alcove into which they descend.
Looking back at El Capitan, its sharp, vertical front was projected
against far blue foot-hills, the creamy whiteness of sunlit granite cut upon
aërial distance, clouds and cold blue sky shutting down over white crest and
jetty pine-plumes, which gather helmet-like upon its upper dome.
Perspective effects are marvellously brought out by the stern, powerful
reality of such rock bodies as Capitan. Across their terrible, blade-like
precipice-edges you look on and down over vistas of cañon and green
hillswells, the dark color of pine and fir broken by bare spots of harmonious
red or brown, and changing with distance into purple, then blue, which
reaches on farther into the brown monotonous plains. Beyond, where the
earth’s curve defines its horizon, dim serrations of Coast Range loom
indistinctly on the hazy air. From here those remarkable fracture results, the
Royal Arches, a series of recesses carved into the granite front, beneath the
North Dome, are seen in their true proportions.
The concentric structure, which covers the dome with a series of plates,
penetrates to a greater depth than usual. The Arches themselves are only
fractured edges of these plates, resulting from the intersection of a cliff-
plane with the conoidal shells.
We had seen the Merced group of snow-peaks heretofore from the west,
but now gained a more oblique view, which began to bring out the thin
obelisk-form of Mount Clark, a shape of great interest from its marvellous
thinness. Mount Starr King, too, swelled up to its commanding height, the
most elevated of the domes.
Looking in the direction of the Half-Dome, I was constantly impressed
with the inclination of the walls, with the fact that they are never vertical for
any great depth. This is observed, too, remarkably in the case of El Capitan,
whose apparently vertical profile is very slant, the actual base standing
twelve hundred feet in advance of the brow.
For a week the boundary survey was continued northeast and parallel to
the cliff-wall, about a mile back from its brink, following through forests
and crossing granite spurs until we reached the summit of that high, bare
chain which divides the Virgin’s Tears from Yosemite Creek, and which,
projecting southward, ends in the Three Brothers. East of this the declivity
falls so rapidly to the valley of the upper Yosemite Creek that chaining was
impossible, and we were obliged to throw our line across the cañon, a little
over a mile, by triangulation. This completed, we resumed it on the North
Dome spur, transferring our camp to a bit of alpine meadow south of the
Mono trail, and but a short distance from the North Dome itself.
After the line was finished here, and a system of triangles determined by
which we connected our northern points with those across the chasm of the
Yosemite, we made several geological excursions along the cliffs, studying
the granite structure, working out its lithological changes, and devoting
ourselves especially to the system of moraines and glacier marks which
indicate direction and volume of the old ice-flow.
An excursion to the summit of the North Dome was exceedingly
interesting. From the rear of our camp we entered immediately a dense
forest of conifers, which stretched southward along the summit of the ridge
until solid granite, arresting erosion, afforded but little foothold. As usual,
among the cracks, and clinging around the bases of bowlders, a few hardy
pines manage to live, almost to thrive; but as we walked groups became
scarcer, trees less healthy, all at last giving way to bare, solid stone. The
North Dome itself, which is easily reached, affords an impressive view up
the Illilluette and across upon the fissured front of the Half-Dome. It is also
one of the most interesting specimens of conoidal structure, since not only
is its mass divided by large, spherical shells, but each of these is subdivided
by a number of lesser, divisional planes. No lithological change is, however,
noticeable between the different shells. The granite is composed chiefly of
orthoclase, transparent vitreous quartz, and about an equal proportion of
black mica and hornblende. Here and there adularia occurs, and, very
sparingly, albite.
With no difficulty, but some actual danger, I climbed down a smooth
granite roof-slope to where the precipice of Royal Arches makes off, and
where, lying upon a sharp, neatly fractured edge, I was able to look down
and study those purple markings which are vertically striped upon so many
of these granite cliffs. I found them to be bands of lichen growth which
follow the curves of occasional water-flow. During any great rain-storm,
and when snow upon the uplands is suddenly melted, innumerable streams,
many of them of considerable volume, find their way to the precipice-edge,
and pour down its front. Wherever this is the case, a deep purple lichen
spreads itself upon the granite, and forms those dark cloudings which add
so greatly to the variety and interest of the cliffs.
 I found it extremest pleasure to lie there alone on the dizzy brink,
studying the fine sculpture of cliff and crag, overlooking the arrangement of
débris piles, and watching that slow, grand growth of afternoon shadows.
Sunset found me there, still disinclined to stir, and repaid my laziness by a
glorious spectacle of color. At this hour there is no more splendid contrast
of light and shade than one sees upon the western gateway itself,—dark-
shadowed Capitan upon one side profiled against the sunset sky, and the
yellow mass of Cathedral Rocks rising opposite in full light, while the
valley is divided equally between sunshine and shade. Pine groves and
oaks, almost black in the shadow, are brightened up to clear red-browns
where they pass out upon the lighted plain. The Merced, upon its mirror-
like expanses, here reflects deep blue from Capitan, and there the warm
Cathedral gold. The last sunlight reflected from some curious, smooth
surfaces upon rocks east of the Sentinel, and about a thousand feet above
the valley. I at once suspected them to be glacier marks, and booked them
for further observation.
My next excursion was up to Mount Hoffmann, among a group of snow-
fields, whose drainage gathers at last through lakes and brooklets to a single
brook (the Yosemite), and flows twelve miles in a broad arc to its plunge
over into the valley. From the summit, which is of a remarkably bedded,
conoidal mass of granite, sharply cut down in precipices fronting the north,
is obtained a broad, commanding view of the Sierras from afar, by the heads
of several San Joaquin branches, up to the ragged volcanic piles about
Silver Mountain.
From the top I climbed along slopes, and down by a wide détour among
frozen snow-banks and many little basins of transparent blue water, amid
black shapes of stunted fir, and over the confused wreck of rock and tree-
trunk thrown rudely in piles by avalanches whose tracks were fresh enough
to be of interest.
Upon reaching the bottom of a broad, open glacier-valley, through whose
middle flows the Yosemite Creek and its branches, I was surprised to find
the streams nearly all dry; that the snow itself, under influence of cold, was
a solid ice mass, and the Yosemite Creek, even after I had followed it down
for miles, had entirely ceased to flow. At intervals the course of the stream
was carried over slopes of glacier-worn granite, ending almost uniformly in
shallow rock basins, where were considerable ponds of water, in one or two
instances expanding to the dignity of lakelets.
 The valley describes an arc whose convexity is in the main turned to the
west, the stream running nearly due west for about four miles, turning
gradually to the southward, and, having crossed the Mono trail, bending
again to the southeast, after which it discharges over the verge of the cliff.
An average breadth of this valley is about half a mile; its form a shallow,
elliptical trough, rendered unusually smooth by the erosive action of old
glaciers. Roches moutonnées break its surface here and there, but in general
the granite has been planed down into remarkable smoothness. All along its
course a varying rubbish of angular bowlders has been left by the retiring
ice, whose material, like that of the whole country, is of granite; but I
recognized prominently black sienitic granite from the summit of Mount
Hoffmann, which, from superior hardness, has withstood disintegration, and
is perhaps the most frequent material of glacier-blocks. The surface
modelling is often of the most finished type; especially is this the case
wherever the granite is highly silicious, its polish becoming then as brilliant
as a marble mantel. In very feldspathic portions, and particularly where
orthoclase predominates, the polished surface becomes a crust, usually
about three-quarters of an inch thick, in which the ordinary appearance of
the minerals has been somewhat changed, the rock-surface, by long
pressure, rendered extremely dense, and in a measure separated from the
underlying material. This smooth crust is constantly breaking off in broad
flakes. The polishing extended up the valley sides to a height of about seven
hundred feet.
The average section of the old glacier was perhaps six hundred feet thick
by half a mile in width. I followed its course from Mount Hoffmann down
as far as I could ride, and then, tying my horse only a little way from the
brink of the cliff, I continued downward on foot, walking upon the dry
stream-bed. I found here and there a deep pit-hole, sometimes twenty feet
deep, carved in mid-channel, and often full of water. Just before reaching
the cliff verge the stream enters a narrow, sharp cut about one hundred and
twenty feet in depth, and probably not over thirty feet wide. The bottom and
sides of this granite lip, here and there, are evidently glacier-polished, but
the greater part of the scorings have been worn away by the attrition of
sands. A peculiar, brilliant polish, which may be seen there to-day, is wholly
the result of recent sand friction.
It was noon when I reached the actual lip, and crept with extreme
caution down over smooth, rounded granite, between towering walls, to
where the Yosemite Fall makes its wonderful leap. Polished rock curved
over too dangerously for me to lean out and look down over the cliff-front
itself. A stone gate dazzlingly gilded with sunlight formed the frame
through which I looked down upon that lovely valley.
Contrast with the strength of yellow rock and severe adamantine
sculpture threw over the landscape beyond a strange unreality, a soft, aërial
depth of purple tone quite as new to me as it was beautiful beyond
description. There, twenty-six hundred feet below, lay meadow and river,
oak and pine, and a broad shadow-zone cast by the opposite wall. Over it
all, even through the dark sky overhead, there seemed to be poured some
absolute color, some purple air, hiding details, and veiling with its soft,
amethystine obscurity all that hard, broken roughness of the Sentinel cliffs.
In this strange, vacant, stone corridor, this pathway for the great Yosemite
torrent, this sounding-gallery of thunderous tumult, it was a strange
sensation to stand, looking in vain for a drop of water, listening vainly, too,
for the faintest whisper of sound, and I found myself constantly expecting
some sign of the returning flood.
From the lip I climbed a high point just to the east, getting a grand view
down the cliff, where a broad, purple band defined the Yosemite spray line.
There, too, I found unmistakable ice-striæ, showing that the glacier of
Mount Hoffmann had actually poured over the brink. At the moments of
such discovery, one cannot help restoring in imagination pictures of the
past. When we stand by river-bank or meadow of that fair valley, looking up
at the torrent falling bright under fulness of light, and lovely in its graceful,
wind-swayed airiness, we are apt to feel its enchantment; but how
immeasurably grander must it have been when the great, living, moving
glacier, with slow, invisible motion, crowded its huge body over the brink,
and launched blue ice-blocks down through the foam of the cataract into
that gulf of wild rocks and eddying mist!
The one-eyed mule, Bonaparte, I found tied where I had left him; and, as
usual, I approached him upon his blind side, able thus to get successfully
into my saddle, without danger to life or limb. I could never become
attached to the creature, although he carried me faithfully many difficult
and some dangerous miles, and for the reason that he made a pretext of his
half-blindness to commit excesses, such as crowding me against trees and
refusing to follow trails. Realizing how terrible under reinforcement of
hereditary transmission the peculiarly mulish traits would have become, one
is more than thankful to Nature for depriving this singular hybrid of the
capacity of handing them down.
Rather tired, and not a little bruised by untimely collision with trees, I
succeeded at last in navigating Bonaparte safely to camp, and turning him
over to his fellow, Pumpkinseed.
The nights were already very cold, our beds on frozen ground none of
the most comfortable; in fact, enthusiasm had quite as much to do with our
content as the blankets or Longhurst’s culinary art, which, enclosed now by
the narrow limit of bacon, bread, and beans, failed to produce such dainties
as thrice-turned slapjacks or plum-duffs of solemnizing memory.
One more geological trip finished my examination of this side of the
great valley. It was a two days’ ramble all over the granite ridges, from the
North Dome up to Lake Tenaya, during which I gathered ample evidence
that a broad sheet of glacier, partly derived from Mount Hoffmann, and in
part from the Mount Watkins Ridge and Cathedral Peak, but mainly from
the great Tuolumne glacier, gathered and flowed down into the Yosemite
Valley. Where it moved over the cliffs there are well-preserved scarrings.
The facts which attest this are open to observation, and seem to me
important in making up a statement of past conditions.
We were glad to get back at last to our two little cabins in the valley,
although our serio-comic hangers-on, the Diggers, were gone, and the great
fall was dry.
A rest of one day proved refreshing enough for us to leave camp and
ascend by the Mariposa trail to Meadow Brook, where we made a bivouac,
from which Gardiner began his southern boundary line, and I renewed my
geological studies east of Inspiration Point.
I always go swiftly by this famous point of view now, feeling somehow
that I don’t belong to that army of literary travellers who have here planted
themselves and burst into rhetoric. Here all who make California books,
down to the last and most sentimental specimen who so much as meditates
a letter to his or her local paper, dismount and inflate. If those firs could
recite half the droll mots they have listened to, or if I dared tell half the
delicious points I treasure, it would sound altogether too amusing among
these dry-enough chapters.
I had always felt a desire to examine Bridal Veil cañon and the southwest
Cathedral slope. Accordingly, one fine morning I set out alone, and
descended through chaparral and over rough débris slopes to the stream,
which at this time, unlike the other upland brooks, flowed freely, though
with far less volume than in summer. At this altitude only such streams as
derive their volume wholly from melting snow dry up in the cold autumnal
and winter months; spring-fed brooks hold their own, and rather increase as
cold weather advances.
It was a wild gorge down which I tramped, following the stream-bed,
often jumping from block to block, or letting myself down by the chaparral
boughs that overhung my way. Splendid walls on either side rose steep and
high, for the most part bare, but here and there on shelf or crevice bearing
clusters of fine conifers, their lower slopes one vast wreck of bowlders and
thicket of chaparral plants.
Not without some difficulty I at length got to the brink, and sat down to
rest, looking over at the valley, whose meadows were only a thousand feet
below; a cool, stirring breeze blew up the Merced Cañon, swinging the
lace-like scarf of foam which fell from my feet, and, floating now against
the purple cliff, again blew out gracefully to the right or left. While I
looked, a gust came roaming round the Cathedral Rocks, impinging against
our cliff near the fall, and apparently got in between it and the cliff, carrying
the whole column of falling water straight out in a streamer through the air.
I went back to camp by way of the Cathedral Rocks, finding much of
interest in the conoidal structure, which is yet perfectly apparent, and
unobscured by erosion or the terrible splitting asunder they have suffered.
Upon a ridge connecting these rocks with the plateaus just south there were
many instructive and delightful points of view, especially the crag just
above the Cathedral Spires, from which I overlooked a large part of valley
and cliff, with the two sharp, slender minarets of granite close beneath me.
That great block forming the plateau between the Yosemite and Illilluette
cañons afforded a fine field for studying granite, pine, and many
remarkably characteristic views of the gorge below and peaks beyond.
From our camp I explored every ravine and climbed each eminence,
reaching at last, one fine afternoon, the top of that singular, hemispherical
mass, the Sentinel Dome. From this point one sweeps the horizon in all
directions. You stand upon the crest of half a globe, whose smooth, white
sides, bearing here and there stunted pines, slope away regularly in all
directions from your feet. Below, granite masses, blackened here and there
with densely clustered forest, stretch through varied undulations toward
you. At a little distance from the foot of the Half-Dome, trees hold upon
sharp brinks, and precipices plunge off into Yosemite upon one side, and the
dark, rocky cañon of Illilluette upon the other. Eastward, soaring into
clouds, stands the thin, vertical mass of the Half-Dome.
From this view the snowy peak of the Obelisk, flattened into broad,
dome-like outline, rises, shutting out the more distant Sierra summits. This
peak, from its peculiar position and thin, tower-like form, offers one of the
most tempting summits of the region. From that slender top one might look
into the Yosemite, and into that basin of ice and granite between the Merced
and Mount Lyell groups. I had longed for it through the last month’s
campaign, and now made up my mind, with this inspiring view, to attempt
it at all hazards.
A little way to the east, and about a thousand feet below the brink of the
Glacier Point, the crags appeared to me particularly tempting; so in the late
afternoon I descended, walking over a rough, gritty surface of granite,
which gave me secure foothold. Upon the very edge the immense,
splintered rocks lay piled one upon another; here a mass jutting out and
overhanging upon the edge, and here a huge slab pointed out like a barbette
gun. I crawled out upon one of these projecting blocks and rested myself,
while studying the view.
From here the one very remarkable object is the Half-Dome. You see it
now edgewise and in sharp profile, the upper half of the conoid fronting the
north with a sharp, sheer, fracture-face of about two thousand feet vertical.
From the top of this a most graceful helmet curve sweeps over to the south,
and descends almost perpendicularly into the valley of the Little Yosemite;
and here from the foot springs up the block of Mount Broderick,—a single,
rough-hewn pyramid, three thousand feet from summit to base, trimmed
upon its crest with a few pines, and spreading out its southern base into a
precipice, over which plunges the white Nevada torrent. Observation had
taught me that a glacier flowed over the Yosemite brink. As I looked over
now I could see its shallow valley and the ever-rounded rocks over which it
crowded itself and tumbled into the icy valley below. Up the Yosemite
gorge, which opened straight before me, I knew that another great glacier
had flowed; and also that the valley of the Illilluette and the Little Yosemite
had been the bed of rivers of ice; a study, too, of the markings upon the
glacier cliff above Hutchings’s house had convinced me that a glacier no
less than a thousand feet deep had flowed through the valley, occupying its
entire bottom.
It was impossible for me, as I sat perched upon this jutting rock mass, in
full view of all the cañons which had led into this wonderful converging
system of ice-rivers, not to imagine a picture of the glacier period. Bare or
snow-laden cliffs overhung the gulf; streams of ice, here smooth and
compacted into a white plain, there riven into innumerable crevasses, or
tossed into forms like the waves of a tempest-lashed sea, crawled through
all the gorges. Torrents of water and avalanches of rock and snow spouted
at intervals all along the cliff walls. Not a tree nor a vestige of life was in
sight, except far away upon ridges below, or out upon the dimly expanding
plain. Granite and ice and snow, silence broken only by the howling
tempest and the crash of falling ice or splintered rock, and a sky deep
freighted with cloud and storm,—these were the elements of a period which
lasted immeasurably long, and only in comparatively the most recent
geological times have given way to the present marvellously changed
condition. Nature in her present aspects, as well as in the records of her
past, here constantly offers the most vivid and terrible contrasts. Can
anything be more wonderfully opposite than that period of leaden sky, gray
granite, and desolate stretches of white, and the present, when of the old
order we have only left the solid framework of granite, and the indelible
inscriptions of glacier work? To-day their burnished pathways are legibly
traced with the history of the past. Every ice-stream is represented by a
feeble river, every great glacier cascade by a torrent of white foam dashing
itself down rugged walls, or spouting from the brinks of upright cliffs. The
very avalanche tracks are darkened by clustered woods, and over the level
pathway of the great Yosemite glacier itself is spread a park of green, a
mosaic of forest, a thread of river.
 VIII

A SIERRA STORM
From every commanding eminence around the Yosemite no distant object
rises with more inspiring greatness than the Obelisk of Mount Clark. Seen
from the west it is a high, isolated peak, having a dome-like outline very
much flattened upon its west side, the precipice sinking deeply down to an
old glacier ravine. From the north this peak is a slender, single needle,
jutting two thousand feet from a rough-hewn pedestal of rocks and snow-
fields. Forest-covered heights rise to its base from east and west. To the
south it falls into a deep saddle, which rises again, after a level outline of a
mile, sweeping up in another noble granite peak. On the north the spur
drops abruptly down, overhanging an edge of the great Merced gorge, its
base buried beneath an accumulation of morainal matter deposited by
ancient Merced glaciers. From the region of Mount Hoffmann, looming in
most impressive isolation, its slender needle-like summit had long fired us
with ambition; and, having finished my agreeable climb round the Yosemite
walls, I concluded to visit the mountain with Cotter, and, if the weather
should permit, to attempt a climb. We packed our two mules with a week’s
provisions and a single blanket each, and on the tenth of November left our
friends at the head-quarter’s camp in Yosemite Valley and rode out upon the
Mariposa trail, reaching the plateau by noon. Having passed Meadow
Brook, we left the path and bore off in the direction of Mount Clark,
spending the afternoon in riding over granite ridges and open stretches of
frozen meadow, where the ground was all hard, and the grass entirely
cropped off by numerous herds of sheep that had ranged here during the
summer. The whole earth was bare, and rang under our mules’ hoofs almost
as clearly as the granite itself.
We camped for the night on one of the most eastern affluents of Bridal
Veil Creek, and were careful to fill our canteens before the bitter night-chill
should freeze it over. By our camp was a pile of pine logs swept together by
some former tempest; we lighted them, and were quickly saluted by a
magnificent bonfire. The animals were tied within its ring of warmth, and
our beds laid where the rain of sparks could not reach. As we were just
going to sleep, our mules pricked up their ears and looked into the forest.
We sprang to our feet, picked up our pistols, expecting an Indian or a
grizzly, but were surprised to see, riding out of the darkness, a lonely
mountaineer, mounted upon a little mustang, carrying his long rifle across
the saddle-bow. He came directly to our camp-fire, and, without uttering a
word, slowly and with great effort swung himself out of his saddle and
walked close to the flames, leaving his horse, which remained motionless,
where he had reined him in. I saw that the man was nearly frozen to death,
and immediately threw my blanket over his shoulders. The water in our
camp kettle was still hot, and Cotter made haste to draw a pot of tea, while I
broiled a slice of beef and pressed him to eat. He, however, shook his head
and maintained a persistent silence, until at length, after turning round and
round until I could have thought him done to a turn, in a very feeble, broken
voice he ejaculated, “I was pretty near gone in, stranger!” Again I pressed
him to drink a cup of tea, but he feebly answered, “Not yet.” After roasting
for half an hour, in which I fully expected to see his coat-tail smoke, he sat
down and drank about two quarts of tea. This had the effect of thawing him
out, and he remembered that his horse was still saddled and very hungry. He
told us that neither he nor the animal had had anything to eat for three days,
and that he was pushing hopelessly westward, expecting either the giving
out of his horse, or death by freezing. We took the saddle from his tired
little mustang, spread the saddle-blanket over his back, and from the scanty
supply of grain we had brought for our own animals gave him a tolerable
supper. It is wonderful how in hours of danger and privation the horse
clings to his human friend. Perfectly tame, perfectly trusting, he throws the
responsibility of his care and life upon his rider; and it is not the least
pathetic among our mountain experiences to see this patient confidence
continue until death. Observing that the logs were likely to burn freely all
night, we divided our blankets with the mountaineer, and Cotter and I
turned in together. In the morning our new friend had entirely recovered
from his numb, stupid condition. Recognizing at a glance his whereabouts,
and thanking us feelingly for our rough hospitality, he headed toward the
Mariposa trail, with quite an affecting good-by.
After breakfast we ourselves mounted and rode up a long, forest-covered
spur leading to the summit of a granite divide, which we crossed at a
narrow pass between two steep cliffs, and descended its eastern slope in full
view of the whole Merced group. This long abrupt descent in front of us led
to the Illilluette Creek, and directly opposite, on the other side of the
trough-like valley, rose the high sharp summit of Mount Clark. We were all
day in crossing and riding up the crest of a sharply curved medial moraine
which traced itself from the mountain south of Mount Clark in a long,
parabolic curve, dying out at last in the bottom of the Illilluette basin. The
moraine was one of the most perfect I have ever seen; its smooth, graded
summit rose as regularly as a railway embankment, and seemed to be
formed altogether of irregular bowlders piled securely together and
cemented by a thick deposit of granitic glacier-dust. Late in the afternoon
we had reached its head, where the two converging glaciers of Mount Clark
and Mount Kyle had joined, clasping a rugged promontory of granite. To
our left, in a depression of the forest-covered basin, lay a little patch of
meadow wholly surrounded by dense groups of alpine trees, which grew in
clusters of five and six, apparently from one root. A little stream from the
Obelisk snows fell in a series of shallow cascades by the meadow’s margin.
We jumped across the brook and went into camp, tethering the mules close
by us. One of the great charms of high mountain camps is their very
domestic nature. Your animals are picketed close by the kitchen, your beds
are between the two, and the water and the wood are always in most
comfortable apposition.
For the first time in many months a mild, moist wind sprang up from the
south, and with it came slowly creeping over the sky a dull, leaden bank of
ominous-looking cloud. Since April we had had no storm. The perpetually
cloudless sky had banished all thought, almost memory, of foul weather; but
winter tempests had already held off remarkably, and we knew that at any
moment they might set in, and in twenty-four hours render the plateaus
impassable. It was with some anxiety that I closed my eyes that night, and,
sleeping lightly, often awoke as a freshening wind moved the pines. At
dawn we were up, and observed that a dark, heavy mass of storm-cloud
covered the whole sky, and had settled down over the Obelisk, wrapping
even the snow-fields at its base in gray folds. The entire peak was lost,
except now and then, when the torn vapors parted for a few moments and
disclosed its sharp summit, whitened by new-fallen snow. A strange moan
filled the air. The winds howled pitilessly over the rocks, and swept in
deafening blasts through the pines. It was my duty to saddle up directly and
flee for the Yosemite; but I am naturally an optimist, a sort of geological
Micawber, so I dodged my duty, and determined to give the weather every
opportunity for a clear-off. Accordingly, we remained in camp all day,
studying the minerals of the granite as the thickly strewn bowlders gave us
material. At nightfall I climbed a little rise back of our meadow, and looked
out over the basin of Illilluette and up in the direction of the Obelisk. Now
and then the parting clouds opened a glimpse of the mountain, and
occasionally an unusual blast of wind blew away the deeply settled vapors
from the cañon to westward; but each time they closed in more
threateningly, and before I descended to camp the whole land was obscured
in the cloud which settled densely down.
The mules had made themselves comfortable with a repast of rich
mountain-grasses, which, though slightly frosted, still retained much of
their original juice and nutriment. We ourselves made a deep inroad on the
supply of provisions, and, after chatting awhile by the firelight, went to bed,
taking the precaution to pile our effects carefully together, covering them
with an india-rubber blanket. Our bivouac was in the middle of a cluster of
firs, quite well protected overhead, but open to the sudden gusts which blew
roughly hither and thither. By nine o’clock the wind died away altogether,
and in a few moments a thick cloud of snow was falling. We had gone to
bed together, pulled the blankets as a cover over our heads, and in a few
moments fell into a heavy sleep. Once or twice in the night I woke with a
slight sense of suffocation, and cautiously lifted the blanket over my head,
but each time found it growing heavier and heavier with a freight of snow.
In the morning we awoke quite early, and, pushing back the blanket, found
that we had been covered by about a foot and a half of snow. The poor
mules had approached us to the limit of their rope, and stood within a few
feet of our beds, anxiously waiting our first signs of life.
We hurried to breakfast, and hastily putting on the saddles, and wrapping
ourselves from head to foot in our blankets, mounted and started for the
crest of the moraine. I had taken the precaution to make a little sketch-map
in my note-book, with the compass directions of our march from the
Yosemite, and we had now the difficult task of retracing our steps in a storm
so blinding and fierce that we could never see more than a rod in advance.
But for the regular form of the moraine, with whose curve we were already
familiar, I fear we must have lost our way in the real labyrinth of glaciated
rocks which covered the whole Illilluette basin. Snow blew in every
direction, filling our eyes and blinding the poor mules, who often turned
quickly from some sudden gust, and refused to go on. It was a cruel
necessity, but we spurred them inexorably forward, guiding them to the
right and left to avoid rocks and trees which, in their blindness, they were
constantly threatening to strike. Warmly rolled in our blankets, we suffered
little from cold, but the driving sleet and hail very soon bruised our cheeks
and eyelids most painfully. It required real effort of will to face the storm,
and we very soon learned to take turns in breaking trail. The snow
constantly balled upon our animals’ feet, and they slid in every direction.
Now and then, in descending a sharp slope of granite, the poor creatures
would get sliding, and rush to the bottom, their legs stiffened out, and their
heads thrust forward in fear. After crossing the Illilluette, which we did at
our old ford, we found it very difficult to climb the long, steep hillside; for
the mules were quite unable to carry us, obliging us to lead them, and to
throw ourselves upon the snow-drifts to break a pathway.
This slope almost wore us out, and when at last we reached its summit,
we threw ourselves upon the snow for a rest, but were in such a profuse
perspiration that I deemed it unsafe to lie there for a moment, and, getting
up again, we mounted the mules and rode slowly on toward open plateaus
near great meadows. The snow gradually decreased in depth as we
descended upon the plain directly south of the Yosemite. The wind abated
somewhat, and there were only occasional snow flurries, between half-
hours of tolerable comfort. Constant use of the compass and reference to
my little map at length brought us to the Mariposa trail, but not until after
eight hours of anxious, exhaustive labor—anxious from the constant dread
of losing our way in the blinding confusion of storm; exhausting, for we
had more than half of the way acted as trail-breakers, dragging our
frightened and tired brutes after us. The poor creatures instantly recognized
the trail, and started in a brisk trot toward Inspiration Point. Suddenly an icy
wind swept up the valley, carrying with it a storm of snow and hail. The
wind blew with such violence that the whole freight of sleet and ice was
carried horizontally with fearful swiftness, cutting the bruised faces of the
mules, and giving our own eyelids exquisite torture. The brutes refused to
carry us farther. We were obliged to dismount and drive them before us,
beating them constantly with clubs.
Fighting our way against this bitter blast, half-blinded by hard, wind-
driven snow-crystals, we at last gave up and took refuge in a dense clump
of firs which crown the spur by Inspiration Point. Our poor mules cowered
under shelter with us, and turned tail to the storm. The fir-trees were solid
cones of snow, which now and then unloaded themselves when severely
bent by a sudden gust, half burying us in dry, white powder. Wind roared
below us in the Yosemite gorge; it blew from the west, rolling up in waves
which smote the cliffs, and surged on up the valley. While we sat still the
drifts began to pile up at our backs; the mules were belly-deep, and our
situation began to be serious.
Looking over the cliff-brink we saw but the hurrying snow, and only
heard a confused tumult of wind. A steady increase in the severity of the
gale made us fear that the trees might crash down over us; so we left the
mules and crept cautiously over the edge of the cliff, and ensconced
ourselves in a sheltered nook, protected by walls of rock which rose at our
back.
We were on the brink of the Yosemite, and but for snow might have
looked down three thousand feet. The storm eddied below us, sucking down
whirlwinds of snow, and sometimes opening deep rifts,—never enough,
however, to disclose more than a few hundred feet of cliffs.
We had been in this position about an hour, half frozen and soaked
through, when I at length gathered conscience enough to climb back and
take a look at our brutes. The forlorn pair were frosted over with a thick
coating, their pitiful eyes staring eagerly at me. I had half a mind to turn
them loose, but, considering that their obstinate nature might lead them
back to our Obelisk camp, I patted their noses, and climbed back to the
shelf by Cotter, determined to try it for a quarter of an hour more, when, if
the tempest did not lull, I thought we must press on and face the snow for
an hour more, while we tramped down to the valley.
Suddenly there came a lull in the storm; its blinding fury of snow and
wind ceased. Overhead, still hurrying eastward, the white bank drove on,
unveiling, as it fled, the Yosemite walls, plateau, and every object to the
eastward as far as Mount Clark. As yet the valley bottom was obscured by a
layer of mist and cloud, which rose to the height of about a thousand feet,
submerging cliff-foot and débris pile. Between these strata, the cloud above
and the cloud below, every object was in clear, distinct view; the sharp,
terrible fronts of precipices, capped with a fresh cover of white, plunged
down into the still, gray river of cloud below, their stony surfaces clouded
with purple, salmon-color, and bandings of brown,—all hues unnoticeable
in every-day lights. Forest, and crag, and plateau, and distant mountain
were snow-covered to a uniform whiteness; only the dark gorge beneath us
showed the least traces of color. There all was rich, deep, gloomy. Even
over the snowy surfaces above there prevailed an almost ashen gray, which
reflected itself from the dull, drifting sky. A few torn locks of vapor poured
over the cliffedge at intervals, and crawled down like wreaths of smoke,
floating gracefully and losing themselves at last in the bank of cloud which
lay upon the bottom of the valley.
On a sudden the whole gray roof rolled away like a scroll, leaving the
heavens from west to far east one expanse of pure, warm blue. Setting
sunlight smote full upon the stony walls below, and shot over the plateau
country, gilding here a snowy forest group, and there a wave-crest of
whitened ridge. The whole air sparkled with diamond particles; red light
streamed in through the open Yosemite gateway, brightening those vast,
solemn faces of stone, and intensifying the deep neutral blue of shadowed
alcoves.
The luminous cloud-bank in the east rolled from the last Sierra summit,
leaving the whole chain of peaks in broad light, each rocky crest strongly
red, the newly fallen snow marbling it over with a soft, deep rose; and
wherever a cañon carved itself down the rocky fronts its course was
traceable by a shadowy band of blue. The middle distance glowed with a
tint of golden yellow; the broken heights along the cañon-brinks and edges
of the cliff in front were of an intense, spotless white. Far below us the
cloud stratum melted away, revealing the floor of the valley, whose russet
and emerald and brown and red burned in the broad evening sun. It was a
marvellous piece of contrasted lights,—the distance so pure, so soft in its
rosy warmth, so cool in the depth of its shadowy blue; the foreground
strong in fiery orange, or sparkling in absolute whiteness. I enjoyed, too,
looking up at the pure, unclouded sky, which now wore an aspect of intense
serenity. For half an hour nature seemed in entire repose; not a breath of
wind stirred the white, snow-laden shafts of the trees; not a sound of
animate creature or the most distant reverberation of waterfall reached us;
no film of vapor moved across the tranquil, sapphire sky; absolute quiet
reigned until a loud roar proceeding from Capitan turned our eyes in that
direction. From the round, dome-like cap of its summit there moved down
an avalanche, gathering volume and swiftness as it rushed to the brink, and
then, leaping out two or three hundred feet into space, fell, slowly filtering
down through the lighted air, like a silver cloud, until within a thousand feet
of the earth it floated into the shadow of the cliff and sank to the ground as
a faint blue mist. Next the Cathedral snow poured from its lighted summit
in resounding avalanches; then the Three Brothers shot off their loads, and
afar from the east a deep roar reached us as the whole snow-cover
thundered down the flank of Cloud’s Rest.
We were warned by the hour to make all haste, and, driving the poor
brutes before us, worked our way down the trail as fast as possible. The
light, already pale, left the distant heights in still more glorious contrast. A
zone of amber sky rose behind the glowing peaks, and a cold steel-blue
plain of snow skirted their bases. Mist slowly gathered again in the gorge
below us and overspread the valley floor, shutting it out from our view.
We ran down the zigzag trail until we came to that shelf of bare granite
immediately below the final descent into the valley. Here we paused just
above the surface of the clouds, which, swept by fitful breezes, rose in
swells, floating up and sinking again like waves of the sea. Intense light,
more glowing than ever, streamed in upon the upper half of the cliffs, their
bases sunken in the purple mist. As the cloud-waves crawled upward in the
breeze they here and there touched a red-purple light and fell back again
into the shadow.
We watched these effects with greatest interest, and, just as we were
about moving on again, a loud burst as of heavy thunder arrested us,
sounding as if the very walls were crashing in. We looked, and from the
whole brow of Capitan rushed over one huge avalanche, breaking into the
finest powder and floating down through orange light, disappearing in the
sea of purple cloud beneath us.
We soon mounted and pressed up the valley to our camp, where our
anxious friends greeted us with enthusiastic welcome and never-to-be-
forgotten beans. We fed our exhausted animals a full ration of barley, and
turned them out to shelter themselves as best they might under friendly oaks
or among young pines. In anticipation of our return the party had gotten up
a capital supper, to which we first administered justice, then punishment,
and finally annihilation. Brief starvation and a healthy combat for life with
the elements lent a most marvellous zest to the appetite. Under the subtle
influences of a free circulation and a stinging cold night, I perceived a
region of the taste which answers to those most refined blue waves of the
spectrum.