Savage then selected one of the young “braves” to accompany him. Ten-ie-ya replied, as the young Indian stepped forward by his direction, “I will go with my people; my young man shall go with you to my village. You will not find any people there. I do not know where they are. My tribe is small--not large, as the white chief has said. The Pai-utes and Mono’s are all gone. Many of the people with my tribe are from western tribes that have come to me and do not wish to return. If they go to the plains and are seen, they will be killed by the friends of those with whom they had quarreled. I have talked with my people and told them I was going to see the white chiefs sent to make peace. I was told that I was growing old, and it was well that I should go, but that young and strong men can find plenty in the mountains; therefore why should they go? to be yarded like horses and cattle. My heart has been sore since that talk, but I am now willing to go, for it is best for my people that I do so.” The Major listened to the old Indian’s volubility for awhile, but interrupted him with a cheering “Forward march!” at which the impatient command moved briskly forward over the now partly broken trail, leaving the chief alone, as his people had already gone on. We found the traveling much less laborious than before, and it seemed but a short time after we left the Indians before we suddenly came in full view of the valley in which was the village, or rather the encampments of the Yosemities. The immensity of rock I had seen in my vision on the Old Bear Valley trail from Ridley’s Ferry was here presented to my astonished gaze. The mystery of that scene was here disclosed. My awe was increased by this nearer view. The face of the immense cliff was shadowed by the declining sun; its outlines only had been seen at a distance. This towering mass “Fools our fond gaze, and greatest of the great, Defies at first our Nature’s littleness, Till, growing with (to) its growth, we thus dilate Our spirits to the size of that they contemplate.” That stupendous cliff is now known as “El Capitan” (the Captain), and the plateau from which we had our first view of the valley, as Mount Beatitude. [Illustration: EL CAPITAN. (3,300 feet in height.)] It has been said that “it is not easy to describe in words the precise impressions which great objects make upon us.” I cannot describe how completely I realized this truth. None but those who have visited this most wonderful valley, can even imagine the feelings with which I looked upon the view that was there presented. The grandeur of the scene was but softened by the haze that hung over the valley,--light as gossamer--and by the clouds which partially dimmed the higher cliffs and mountains. This obscurity of vision but increased the awe with which I beheld it, and as I looked, a peculiar exalted sensation seemed to fill my whole being, and I found my eyes in tears with emotion.