An Unexpected Adventure
A wild scene, but not a safe one, is made by
the moon as it appears
through the edge of the Yosemite Fall when one is behind it. Once,
after
enjoying the night-song of the waters and watching the formation of the
colored bow as the moon came round the domes and sent her beams into
the
wild uproar, I ventured out on the narrow bench that extends back of
the
fall from Fern Ledge and began to admire the dim-veiled grandeur of the
view. I could see the fine gauzy threads of the fall's filmy border by
having the light in front; and wishing to look at the moon through the
meshes of some of the denser portions of the fall, I ventured to creep
farther behind it while it was gently wind-swayed, without taking
sufficient thought about the consequences of its swaying back to its
natural position after the wind-pressure should be removed. The effect
was enchanting: fine, savage music sounding above, beneath, around me;
while the moon, apparently in the very midst of the rushing waters,
seemed to be struggling to keep her place, on account of the
ever-varying form and density of the water masses through which she was
seen, now darkly veiled or eclipsed by a rush of thick-headed comets,
now flashing out through openings between their tails. I was in
fairyland between the dark wall and the wild throng of illumined
waters,
but suffered sudden disenchantment; for, like the witch-scene in
Alloway
Kirk, "in an instant all was dark." Down came a dash of spent comets,
thin and harmless-looking in the distance, but they felt desperately
solid and stony when they struck my shoulders, like a mixture of
choking
spray and gravel and big hailstones. Instinctively dropping on my
knees,
I gripped an angle of the rock, curled up like a young fern frond with
my face pressed against my breast, and in this attitude submitted as
best I could to my thundering bath. The heavier masses seemed to strike
like cobblestones, and there was a confused noise of many waters about
my ears--hissing, gurgling, clashing sounds that were not heard as
music. The situation was quickly realized. How fast one's thoughts burn
in such times of stress! I was weighing chances of escape. Would the
column be swayed a few inches away from the wall, or would it come yet
closer? The fall was in flood and not so lightly would its ponderous
mass be swayed. My fate seemed to depend on a breath of the "idle
wind."
It was moved gently forward, the pounding ceased, and I was once more
visited by glimpses of the moon. But fearing I might be caught at a
disadvantage in making too hasty a retreat, I moved only a few feet
along the bench to where a block of ice lay. I wedged myself between
the
ice and the wall and lay face downwards, until the steadiness of the
light gave encouragement to rise and get away. Somewhat nerve-shaken,
drenched, and benumbed, I made out to build a fire, warmed myself, ran
home, reached my cabin before daylight, got an hour or two of sleep,
and awoke sound and comfortable, better, not worse for my hard midnight
bath.
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