Alfonso did not know, till Mariposa told him that the big trees were called sequoia in honor of a Cherokee chief, Sequoyah, who invented letters for his people. She also told Alfonso that there were at least ten groves of big trees on the northern slope of the Sierra Nevada range; that some of the trees were thirty feet in diameter, and 325 feet in height; that sixteen Yosemite braves on their ponies had taken refuge from a terrible storm in the hollow of a single sequoia. Alfonso prized highly a cane, fashioned by the Indian maiden from a fallen Big Tree. The wood had a pale red tint, and was beautifully marked and polished.
Part of the Indian hunting party went forward with the game, while Mariposa, Red Cloud, and three Yosemite braves with their ponies, waited for the handsome pale face to recover partially. Then they rode with Alfonso among the Big Trees, past Wawona, toiling up long valleys, stopping now and then to cook simple food. The Indians followed a familiar trail up dark gulches, along steep grades, through heavy timber, skirting edges of cliffs and precipitous mountains, the ruggedness constantly increasing, till suddenly Mariposa conducted Alfonso to a high point where his soul was filled with enthusiasm. Mariposa, pointing to the gorge or canyon of extraordinary depth, which was floored with forest trees and adorned with waterfalls, said, "Here in the Yosemite (grizzly) Valley is the home of my people. Here we wish to take you until you are well. Will you go?"
Alfonso, still weak and pale, but trusting the Indian girl, replied "Yes." The young artist-miner had never seen such stupendous masonry; the granite walls that surrounded the valley were a succession of peaks and domes, from three thousand to four thousand feet high, all eloquent in thought and design. Alfonso began sketching, but Mariposa motioned him to put his paper aside, and the six Indian ponies with their burdens carefully picked their way into the paradise below.
Red Cloud, Mariposa, Alfonso, and the braves were received with expressions of joy unusual for the stolid red men, and Alfonso was given a tent to himself near the chief's big tepee, close by a broad clear stream, and in the shadow of large old oaks. Here for several days Alfonso tarried, grew stronger, and often walked with pretty Mariposa. She taught him a novel method of trapping trout which thronged the river. She had him sketch the reflection in Mirror Lake of cathedral spires and domes, of overhanging granite rocks, and tall peaks of wildest grandeur.
He also sketched several waterfalls fed by melting snow. Mariposa's favorite falls at the entrance to the valley made a single leap of hundreds of feet, and when the white spray was caught by the breezes and the sun, the lace-like mist, sparkling like diamonds, swayed gracefully in the winds like a royal bridal veil. "The highest of a series of cascades," Mariposa said, "was called 'The Yosemite Falls.'"
Here eagles soar above the Cap of Liberty and other granite peaks. Robins, larks, and humming birds swarm in the warm valley, and abundance of grass grows in the meadows for the Indian ponies.
As Alfonso's strength increased, he walked more frequently with Mariposa along the banks of the river, by the thickets of young spruce, cedar, and manzanita with its oddly contorted red stems. At times, each vied with the other in bringing back echoes from the lofty granite walls of the valley.
One sunset, as Alfonso and Mariposa sat by the river bank, Alfonso holding the light redwood cane, the gift of the maiden, he took the shapely hand of Mariposa in his own and said, "Mariposa, I owe my life to you, and if I am ever rich I will come back and reward you."
"I shall miss you," said the maiden shyly, "I want no money; I am happy because you are well again."
"Mariposa, I have long searched for gold," said Alfonso, "but finally I lost courage, became sick, and you know the rest. You have a ring of beaten gold on your finger, did it come from near here?"