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Across The Gateway, facing Bridal Veil Fall, stands El Capitan, called by the Indians, Tu-tok-a-nu-la, or "rock chief." To apply human standards of measurement to this monarch of mountains is sacrilege. To attempt by mere words and figures to convey some idea of its stupendous

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massiveness, its nobly-defiant impressive individuality, is rankest folly. Towering over thirty-six hundred feet above the Valley floor, more than twice the height of Gibraltar, the world's largest and highest rock, the world's most nearly perpendicular cliff, embracing on its surface over three hundred and twenty acres of glacier-worn, storm-beaten solid granite, the unspeakable grandeur, the preeminent glory and strength, the air of unutterable age, irresistible power, and infinite repose of El Capitan beggar description. Here this great "rock chief" stands, the mightiest, the most glorious of his kind, keeping perpetual vigil over the rock portals of his kingdom, and we can but bow our heads in reverent awe to receive the benediction which he bestows upon all who pass his throne.

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