Alfonso, still weak and pale, but trusting the Indian girl, replied "Yes." The young artist-miner had never seen such stupendous masonry; the granite walls that surrounded the valley were a succession of peaks and domes, from three thousand to four thousand feet high, all eloquent in thought and design. Alfonso began sketching, but Mariposa motioned him to put his paper aside, and the six Indian ponies with their burdens carefully picked their way into the paradise below. Red Cloud, Mariposa, Alfonso, and the braves were received with expressions of joy unusual for the stolid red men, and Alfonso was given a tent to himself near the chief's big tepee, close by a broad clear stream, and in the shadow of large old oaks. Here for several days Alfonso tarried, grew stronger, and often walked with pretty Mariposa. She taught him a novel method of trapping trout which thronged the river. She had him sketch the reflection in Mirror Lake of cathedral spires and domes, of overhanging granite rocks, and tall peaks of wildest grandeur. He also sketched several waterfalls fed by melting snow. Mariposa's favorite falls at the entrance to the valley made a single leap of hundreds of feet, and when the white spray was caught by the breezes and the sun, the lace-like mist, sparkling like diamonds, swayed gracefully in the winds like a royal bridal veil. "The highest of a series of cascades," Mariposa said, "was called 'The Yosemite Falls.'" Here eagles soar above the Cap of Liberty and other granite peaks. Robins, larks, and humming birds swarm in the warm valley, and abundance of grass grows in the meadows for the Indian ponies. As Alfonso's strength increased, he walked more frequently with Mariposa along the banks of the river, by the thickets of young spruce, cedar, and manzanita with its oddly contorted red stems. At times, each vied with the other in bringing back echoes from the lofty granite walls of the valley. One sunset, as Alfonso and Mariposa sat by the river bank, Alfonso holding the light redwood cane, the gift of the maiden, he took the shapely hand of Mariposa in his own and said, "Mariposa, I owe my life to you, and if I am ever rich I will come back and reward you." "I shall miss you," said the maiden shyly, "I want no money; I am happy because you are well again." "Mariposa, I have long searched for gold," said Alfonso, "but finally I lost courage, became sick, and you know the rest. You have a ring of beaten gold on your finger, did it come from near here?" "My father gave it to me," was all that Mariposa would say about the ring as they separated for the night.