210 THE TOURIST'S CALIFORNIA The lower fall descends in a frost-white band of almost uniform width until it strikes in a gusty shower on the debris at the foot of the wall. That they may acquaint themselves with other phases of the Fall, the energetic pursue a trail to its head by way of the cliff behind the Military Camp. With firm-planted feet, hardy little horses climb in and out, up and up, until the roar of the raging water smites the ear-drums and one is near enough to feel its mizzly breath. A rough path leaves the bridle-trail and draws near to the caul- dron where the waters of the upper fall clash and boil in their rugged bed. Resuming the saddle, one reaches by a sharp rise the crown of the Fall and lingers to watch at close quarters the swell of the stream which has come all unknowing from a far-away source to meet this end. The tones, the forms, the tints and shadows of the foaming w-hirlwind in themselves reward the climb. But Eagle Peak has yet other phases of the Enchanted Valley to show us. The trail bears to the left. The pinnacles on the north wall appear across the cleft which has dropped from sight. Soon we are on the highest point of this north rim of the Val- ley. The view from Glacier Point is reversed. We are looking now upon the ponderous turrets of Sentinel Rock, upon the beautiless mass of the precipice beside it, upon spires and conoidal dol- mens which might mark the last sleep of Jove
