In order to take the most direct route to the valley, Captain Boling selected one of the young Yosemite Indians to lead the way with our regular guide. Being relieved of the charge of Ten-ie-ya, I took my usual place on the march with the guide. This position was preferred by me, because it afforded ample opportunity for observation and time for reflection; and beside, it was in my nature to be in advance. The trail followed, after leaving the lake, led us over bare granite slopes and hidden paths, but the distance was materially shortened. A short distance below the bottom land of the lake, on the north side of the cañon and at the head of the gorge, the smooth, sloping granite projects like a vast roof over the abyss below. As we approached this, our young guide pointed toward it. By close observation I was able to discover that the trail led up its sloping surface, and was assured by the guide that the trail was a good one. I felt doubtful of the Captain’s willingness to scale that rocky slope, and halted for him to come up. The Captain followed the trail to its termination in the soil, and saw the cause of my having halted. Upon the discoloration of the rock being pointed out as the continuation of the trail, he glanced up the granite slope and said, “Go on, but be watchful, for a slide into the gorge would bring as certain death as a slide from that San Joaquin trail, which I have not yet forgotten.” Some of the command did not fancy this any more than they did the Ten-ie-ya trail down “Indian Cañon.” We all pulled off our hoots and went up this slope bare-footed. Seeing there was no real danger, the most timid soon moved up as fearless as the others. I, with the advance, soon reached the soil above, and at the top halted until the Indians and our straggling column closed up. As I looked about me, I discovered, unfolding to my sight, one of the most charming views in this sublimest scenery of nature. During the day before, we had looked with astonishment on the almost boundless peaks, and snow-capped mountains, to be seen from the Mt. Hoffman divide. But here some of the same views appeared illuminated. In our ascent up the mountain, we had apparently met the rising sun. The scene was one long to be remembered for its brilliancy, although not describable.