After lying loose and lost for awhile, I made a sunrise fire, went down to the lake, dashed water on my head, and dipped a cupful for tea.

The revival brought about by bread and tea was as complete as the exhaustion from excessive enjoyment and toil.

Then I crept beneath the pine-tassels to bed.

The wind was frosty and the fire burned low, but my sleep was none the less sound, and the evening constellations had swept far to the west before I awoke.
After thawing and resting in the morning sunshine, I sauntered home,--that is, back to the Tuolumne camp,--bearing away toward a cluster of peaks that hold the fountain snows of one of the north tributaries of Rush Creek.

Here I discovered a group of beautiful glacier lakes, nestled together in a grand amphitheater.