a fellow who had been in California told us divers stories touching
grizzly bears, � the most formidable carnivore this continent
can boast of. To room about 10, & scoring up to day�s
doings, Waud in bed & having just knocked the lamp down
by turning over in�s sleep, thereby greasing book & intimating
it�s time for my going to bed, the which I shall do incontinently.
10. Sunday. A fine continuous rain falling, presenting the
mountain scenery under a new aspect. All down the ravine
below the Fall great clouds of smoke-like mist hover, or are slowly
moving blotting out the distant mountains, and showing in strong relief
the trees in the foreground. One of our Artist acquaintances appears,
having journeyed from the Clove. To the foot of the Fall with
him, Dillon being there. A party of folk from the mountain
House also. Water let on the Fall. The morning wore on,
Waud & Dillon chopped down a rotting hemlock on the cliff banks.
Dinner. With the two for a little space into the wood by
the road-side, Waud sketching, I & Dillon making a fire,
& nearly succeeding in burning down a young hemlock. Rain increasing.
To the house, doze & supper. Evening, sitting out on the little
piazza fronting the house fumigating and conversing, all four of us,
& some three others, one the returned Californian. Stories told,
of bears, sharks, alligators, rattlesnakes, of Chinamen and of the
Sandwich Islanders. Californian had lived in the Pacific isles
for three months, & had much to tell of the people.
11. Monday. An hour after breakfasting, after divers farewell
drinks (concocted by the Californian,) we set off for return to New
York. All walked down to the Clove, and bathed at the fall