Illilouette Fall.
This is also called the Too-loo-le-wack, or Too-lool-we-ack Fall. The meaning of either of these Indian names is not certainly given. Cunningham, one of the oldest and best guides of the valley, calls the cañon and the fall at the head of it, the El-lil-o-wit. The tourist who attempts this cañon must leave all hoofs behind, and, falling back to first principles, depend entirely upon his own understanding.
Among the enormous masses of rock which obstruct it, several extensive fissures and romantic caverns furnish additional stimulus to the wonder-loving pedestrian. As General Coulter says: "rough is no name for it." It is one of the wildest places imaginable. Few tourists accomplish it, but those who do are amply repaid.
From the foot of the Il-lil-ou-ette Cañon make your way directly east, clamber along half a mile, or let your horse do it for you, then bear away to the right, slightly south of east, and you find yourself entering the cañon of the main Merced itself. Now pick your way carefully along, and, as soon as you feel sufficiently sure of your foothold, look about you, and look ahead. Did you ever see finer boulder-scenery in your life? Stop under the sheltering lee of this huge, church-like boulder, and don the oiled or rubber suit which awaits your hire. You can get on without it, but the spray will quickly wet you into a
"Dem'd damp, moist and disagreeable body,"
if you try it.
Now take a stout stick, a deep breath, hold firmly on to both and plunge sturdily along the ascending trail. The deepest, richest and greenest of moss lines the narrow foot-path on either hand. Look quickly; enjoy it while you may, for presently you find breath and sight nearly taken away together by heavy spray-gusts, rushing, wind-driven, down the cañon. Catching the intervals between, and catching your breath at the same time, you lift your nearly blinded eyes to the