River, the main feeder of Lake Tahoe, and four miles further
is Al-Tahoe, a new and well-equipped hotel, standing on a bluff
commanding an expansive view of the Lake. It practically occupies the
site of an old resort well-known as "Rowland's." It is near to Freel's
Peak (10,900 feet), which in olden days was known as Sand Mountain, on
account of its summit being composed of sand.

A mile and a half further along is Bijou, a pleasant and comfortable
stopping place, while three miles further a picturesque rustic
pavilion on the end of the pier denotes Lakeside Park, a well-known
and long-famous resort. Forty-five years ago, or more, Capt. W.W.
Latham built the famous State Line House at this point, and twenty
years ago it came into the hands of its present owners.

This is the most easterly of all the resorts and settlements at the
south end of Lake Tahoe. It is in California, in El Dorado County,
though its post-office is Stateline, the dividing line between
California and Nevada. The Park is over 2000 acres in extent and has
already become the nucleus for a choice summer residence section.

Leaving Lakeside Park the steamer now turns northward and follows the
eastern or Nevada shore, until Cave Rock is passed and Glenbrook is
reached. This is the only resort on that side of Lake Tahoe. Once the
scene of an active, busy, lumber town, where great mills daily turned
out hundreds of thousands of feet of timber for the mines of Virginia
City and the building up of the great historic mining-camps of Nevada,
the magic of change and of modern improvements has swept away
every sign of these earlier activities and left Glenbrook a quiet,
delightful, restful resort, nestling in its own wide and expansive
meadows at the foot of towering mountains that give a rich and
contrasting background for the perennial beauty of the Lake.
Practically all that remains to remind one of the old days are the
remnants of the logging piers and cribs, the school-house, the quiet
"City of Those who are Gone," and further up the hills, the old
railroad grade on which the logs were carried to the mill and the
lumber taken through the tunnel, which still remains, to the flume by
which it was further conveyed to the railroad at Carson City.

Immediately to the right of Glenbrook, as the steamer heads for the
wharf, can be seen the celebrated Shakspeare Rock. John Vance Cheney,
the poet, thus describes it:

No sooner had the steamer been made fast than a ledge of rocks
was pointed out to us, rising precipitously some distance from
the pier. "Can't you see it?" again and again asked our guide,
renewing his endeavor to dispel our distressing stupidity.
At length "it" appeared to us, and we stood mute with
astonishment. There, on the front of a bold cliff, graven with
all the care of the best copies with which we are familiar,
looked down upon us the face of Shakspeare! As if in
remembrance of her favorite son, here in this far wild region,
nature had caused his features, cut in everlasting rock, to be
hung on high, a fitting symbol of his intellectual
sovereignty over the world. The likeness needs no aid from the
imagination: it is life-like, recognized instantly by the most
careless observer, and, let it be added, never forgotten. The
beard is a trifle longer than we are accustomed to see it, but
this deviation does not detract from the majesty of expression
becoming the illustrious original. The spacious forehead, the
nose, even the eyes, all are admirably represented. A more
astounding surprise it has not been the writer's fortune to
experience. The portrait looks as if it were made by moss
growing upon the smooth flat surface of a huge rock; but we
were informed that the face is all of stone, and has undergone
no perceptible change since its discovery about five years
since. [This was written in 1882.] A lady tourist from
Massachusetts has, it is believed, the honor of first pointing
it out. Nature cannot forget her Shakspeare. So we all mused,
and, musing, would have forgotten our dinners, had we not
been summoned inside the hotel. The repast was not peculiarly
relishable; consequently, we had all the more opportunity
to feed spiritually upon the masterpiece on the cliff,--the
rock-portrait of Avon's, of England's, of the World's immortal
bard.

As the steamer leaves Glenbrook one may gain clear and distinct views
of the four prominent peaks of the Nevada side. Above Lakeside, at the
southeast end, is Monument Peak, then, about midway between Lakeside
and Glenbrook is a sharp-pointed bare mass of rock known as Genoa
Peak. Immediately behind Glenbrook is Dubliss Mountain (8729 feet),
so named after Duane Bliss, father and son, both of whom have done
so much to make Tahoe known to the world. Marlette Peak is to the
northeast, 8864 feet, with Snow Valley Peak, 9214 feet, a little to
the South. These both overshadow Marlette Lake, a full description of
which is given elsewhere. All these peaks afford excellent views of
Lake Tahoe on the one side and of the valleys and mountains of western
Nevada on the other.

The steamer now continues along the Nevada shore, past the scars
caused by the breaking of the Marlette Lake flume, by Crystal Bay
and the site of the old town of Incline, around State Line Point to
Brockway.

This resort has been long and favorably known for its famous hot
mineral springs. The hot water is piped to all rooms and private baths
of the hotels and cottages, and is a great source of pleasure as well
as health-giving comfort to the guests.

We are now on the home-stretch, and soon after leaving Brockway (1-1/2
miles away) and forty-five minutes (eight miles) from Tahoe Tavern, we
reach Tahoe Vista. Here one is afforded a perfect view of the Lake and
its snowcapped ranges east and south.

Crossing Agate and Carnelian Bays the steamer's last stop is at
Carnelian Bay. Here there is great building activity going on and many
neat and commodious cottages and bungalows are being erected.

[Illustration: Snowballing in June, July and August, near the Summit
of "The Crags," Deer Park Springs, Lake Tahoe]

[Illustration: Fishing in Grass Lake, Near Glen Alpine Springs]

[Illustration: Rubicon Point, Lake Tahoe]

[Illustration: Brockway's Hot Springs Hotel, Lake Tahoe]

Observatory Point is the last object passed before the Tavern is again
reached. This name was given because of the fact that it was once
the chosen site, by James Lick, for the observatory he contemplated
building. This plan, however, was never carried out, as it was shown
to the philanthropist that the cold weather of winter would work
exceeding hardship upon the astronomers without any compensating
advantages. The result was the Observatory was finally established on
Mt. Hamilton, and it is now a part of the great California University
system.

Thus the complete circuit of Lake Tahoe is made daily in summer by the
steamer, and no matter how often the trip is taken it never palls
upon the intelligent and careful observer. New glories and wonders are
constantly springing forth as pleasant surprises and one soon learns
to realize that here Nature indeed has been most prodigal in her
scenic gifts to mankind.




CHAPTER XIX

DEER PARK SPRINGS


While in one sense _all_ the resorts of the Tahoe region are
_mountain_ resorts, a difference should be noted between those
that are located directly on the shores of Lake Tahoe, or some lesser
lake, and those that are away from immediate proximity to a lake.
The latter type is more correctly designated mountain resorts, and of
these are three in the Tahoe region, viz., Deer Park Springs,
Rubicon Springs and Glen Alpine. All these resorts were discovered
by following the trails of animals which were visiting them for "salt
licks" that existed in connection with their mineral waters as related
in the chapter on Glen Alpine.

Deer Park is a private estate of approximately 469 acres, in two
sections, one the Mineral Springs Section, consisting of nearly
309 acres, and on which the celebrated springs--two of soda, one of
sulphur, and one of iron--are located, and the other, the Five Lakes
Section, of 160 acres. The former begins a mile from the Truckee
River, up Bear Creek Canyon. This was originally taken up from the
Government as timber claims, but the timber has never been cut, and
the great pines, firs and junipers remain as the original settlers
found them. The Five Lakes section is a fascinating and attractive
location two miles away, over the first divide of the mountains, and
therefore 1000 feet higher than the Inn, where five glacial lakes
nestle in their granite basin. Four of these, and a large part of the
fifth, are included in the estate, while all surrounding is government
land of the Tahoe National Forest. If a dam were built to restrain the
flow of water into Five Lake Creek, it would need only to be ten feet
high to convert the five lakes into one, so near are they to the same
level.

As it is the flow from these lakes forms Five Lakes Creek, which
empties into the Rubicon and thence into the South Fork of the
American.

Five Lakes afford excellent fishing and a log-cabin, three boats and
fishing tackle are kept here throughout the season for the pleasure of
guests. Those who disdain the ordinary accommodations of a hotel can
here camp out, rough it, and make it their headquarters while climbing
the adjoining peaks or exploring the ravines and canyons at the head
of the American River.

In 1914 a student from Stanford University was _host_ at the Five
Lakes log-cabin. He cooked for those who desired it, helped gather fir
boughs for camp beds, prepared fishing-tackle for women anglers, rowed
them to and fro over the lakes, and accompanied parties to the nearby
summits. There are full accommodations at the cabin for seven persons,
and the rule of the camp is that guests stay only one night, moving on
to make room for the next comer, unless arrangements for a longer stay
are made beforehand. Thus all the guests at Deer Park Inn may enjoy
this novel experience if they so desire.

In the region of Five Lakes, Basque and other foreign shepherds may
be found tending their flocks, and prospectors, with queer little
pack-burros, who climb the mountains seeking the elusive gold, as they
did in the days of '49.

It was from Deer Park that the trail into the famous Hell Hole was
recut by Miss Katherine Chandler, owner of the Inn and estate, in
1908, after having been lost for many years. Arrangements for this
trip, and other famous hunting and fishing trips may be made at the
Inn and many people who have gone over the mountains to the Yosemite
have outfitted and secured their guide here.

One of the finest trail trips of the Tahoe region is that afforded
over the trail, back of Deer Park Inn, to the rugged pile known as The
Crags, over Inspirational Ridge to Ward's Peak. In the early part
of the season great snow banks are encountered, and when the flowers
begin to bloom there are great fields covered with Sierran primroses,
with many patches of white heather and beautiful cyclamens. This is
but one of many fine trail trips that may be made.

_Deer Park Inn_ is one of the oldest and best established resorts
of the Tahoe region. The house that I occupied on my short visit was
a solid log cabin, full of romantic interest, for it was quaint,
old-fashioned and appropriate to the surroundings. The key-note of the
place is comfort. Under its present management a large number of wild
New England flowers have been planted to add their beauty to that of
the native California flower, and each year, about the third week in
July, the guests wander over the sun-kissed slopes, climb the snowy
heights and ramble through the shady woods gathering Sierran flowers
of every hue, form and variety for an annual flower show. This is one
of the distinctive features of the life at Deer Park Inn.

It is an interesting fact here to notice that, when Miss Parsons,
chief author of _Flowers of California_, was preparing that
volume, she found such a wealth of mountain flora in the Deer Park
region that she spent about as many weeks as she had planned for days.
Other botanists have found it equally productive.

To those who come early in the season tobogganing and snow shoeing are
not unusual experiences. The shady sides of the mountains offer these
winter sports as late as June and early July, and many Californians
who have never enjoyed the frolic of snow-balling come here to gain
their first experience in this common eastern enjoyment.

Elsewhere I have referred to the many evidences of glacial action
found about a mile above Deer Park Inn. Still further up the canyon,
on the trail going to Five Lakes, are interesting deposits of volcanic
rock--andeside--so that these two geological phenomena may be studied
close at hand.

Having its own rich meadows on Bear Creek, the Deer Park Spring tables
are always supplied with good milk and cream from its own dairies,
while fresh fruit and vegetables are supplied daily. Fish and game in
season are frequent, and the table being under the direct and personal
supervision of the management has gained an enviable reputation.

Living water flows in marvelous abundance through Deer Park all
throughout the year. Springs and melting snow send four different
streams, tributary to Bear Creek, coursing across the property.
The domestic water supply of the Inn is gained from springs on the
mountain side, 800 feet above the Inn, and it is piped all over the
place and to every cottage.

There has been some talk, recently, of converting Deer Park into a
private park. There is no better location for such a purpose in the
whole Tahoe region. Situated as it is in the heart of a canyon it
is readily isolated and thus kept entirely secluded and free from
intrusion. While such a procedure would be a great advantage to
any individual or club who might purchase the estate, it would be a
decided loss to the general public who for so many years have enjoyed
the charms and delights of this earliest of Sierran mountain resorts.




CHAPTER XX

RUBICON SPRINGS


One of the oldest and most famous resorts of the High Sierras is
Rubicon Springs. It is nine miles from Lake Tahoe, at McKinney's,
over a mountain road built many years ago, engineered so as to afford
marvelously entrancing glimpses of the Lake and of the mountain
scenery on either hand. Here are primeval forest, flower-strewn
meadows of emerald, crystal streams and placid-faced glacial lakes
in which snow-clad mountain summits are mirrored in quiet glory. The
Rubicon River is one of the feeders of the American River, and the
springs are located not far from its head waters.

The Rubicon Springs were originally discovered and located upon by the
Hunsaker brothers, two genuine explorers and adventurers whose names
deserve to be preserved in connection with the Tahoe region. They
were originally from the Hoosier state, coming to California in 1849,
across the plains, by Fort Hall, the sink of the Humboldt, Ragtown,
and by Carson Canyon to old Hangtown (now Placerville). They mined
for several years. Then came the Comstock excitement. They joined the
exodus of miners for the Nevada mountains and were among the earliest
to help to construct the Georgetown trail. Thus it was they discovered
Rubicon. In 1869 they located upon 160 acres, built a log-house and
established a stopping station which they called Hunsaker Springs. In
the winter they rested or returned to Georgetown, making occasional
trapping trips, hunting bear and deer, and the meat of which they
sold. In those days deer used to winter in large numbers almost as far
down as Georgetown (some fifteen miles or so), so that hunting them
for market was a profitable undertaking in the hands of experts.

They and John McKinney, the founder of McKinney's, were great friends,
having worked together in the Georgetown mines. They soon made their
places famous. Their mining friends came over from Virginia City,
Gold Hill, Carson, etc., by way of Glenbrook, where they were
ferried across Lake Tahoe by the old side-wheel steamer, _Governor
Stanford_, to McKinney's. Then by pack trail over to Hunsakers.

For many years they used to cut a great deal of hay from the nearby
meadows. A natural timothy grows, sometimes fully four feet high.
A year's yield would often total fully thirty tons, for which the
highest price was paid at the mines.

There was another spring, beside Hunsakers', about a mile higher up,
owned by a friend of the Hunsakers, named Potter. In time he sold this
spring to a Mrs. Clark, who finally sold it back to him, when it was
bought by Mr. R. Colwell, of Moana Villa. When the Hunsakers grew too
old to run their place they sold it to a man named Abbott, who, in
due time wished to sell out. But, in the meantime the railroad had
surveyed their land, granted by Congress, and found that the springs
and part of the hotel building were on their land, so that while
Abbott sold all his holdings to Mr. Colwell, he could not sell the
main objects of the purchaser's desire. An amicable arrangement,
however, was made between all the parties at interest.

Mr. Colwell is now the owner of all the property.

For countless centuries the Indians of both west and east of Tahoe
were used to congregate in the Rubicon country. They came to drink
the medicinal waters, fish, catch deer and game birds, and also gather
acorns and pine nuts. How well I remember my own visit to the Springs
in the fall of 1913. Watson and I had had three delightful days on
the trail and in Hell Hole, and had come, without a trail, from
Little Hell Hole up to Rubicon. The quaking aspens were dropping
their leaves, the tang of coming winter was in the air, mornings and
evenings, yet the middle of the day was so warm that we drank deeply
of the waters of the naturally carbonated springs. No, this statement
is scarcely one of fact. It was warm, but had it been cold, we, or,
at least, I should have drank heartily of the waters because I liked
them. They are really delicious, and thousands have testified to their
healthfulness.

We saw the station of the water company, where a man remains through
the year to register the river's flow and the snowfall. Then we passed
a large lily lake to the left,--a once bold glacial lake now rapidly
nearing the filled-up stage ere it becomes a mountain meadow--and were
fairly on the Georgetown grade, the sixty mile road that reaches from
McKinney's to Georgetown. It is a stern road, that would make the
"rocky road to Dublin" look like a "flowery bed of ease," though we
followed it only a mile and a half to leave it for the steep trail
that reaches Rock Bound Lake. This is one of the larger of the small
glacial lakes of the Tahoe Region, and is near enough to Rubicon
Springs to be reached easily on foot.

From a knoll close by one gains an excellent panorama of Dick's,
Jack's and Ralston's Peaks. Tallac and Pyramid are not in sight. The
fishing here is excellent, the water deep and cold and the lake large
enough to give one all the exercise he needs in rowing.

On the summit of the Georgetown road one looks down upon the nearby
placid bosom of Buck Island Lake. It received this name from Hunsaker.
The lake is very irregular in shape, about a third of a mile long,
and a quarter of a mile wide in its widest part. Near one end is a
small island. Hunsaker found the deer swam over to this island to
rest and sleep during the heat of the day, hence the name.

[Illustration: Angora Lakes, Fallen Leaf Lake and Lake Tahoe ]

[Illustration: White Cloud Falls, Cascade Lake]

[Illustration: Upper Eagle Falls, Emerald Bay, Lake Tahoe]

The Little Rubicon river flows into Buck Island Lake and out again,
and about two miles below Rubicon Springs the Georgetown road crosses
the river at the foot of the lake.

With these two lakes, and others not far away, fine hunting and
fishing, with several mountains nearby for climbing, the hotsprings,
a fine table and good horses to ride it can well be understood that
Rubicon Springs makes a delightful summer stopping-place. One great
advantage that it possesses, under its present proprietorship is that
guests may alternate between Moana Villa and the Springs and thus
spend part of their time on the Lake and the other part in the heart
of the mountains. The Colwells are hearty and homelike hosts, and are
devoted to giving their many guests the greatest possible enjoyment,
pleasure and health that a summer's vacation can contain.




CHAPTER XXI

EMERALD BAY AND CAMP


Situated near the southwest corner of Lake Tahoe is Emerald Bay,
by many thousands regarded as the choicest portion of Lake Tahoe.
Surrounded by so many wonderful scenes, as one is at Tahoe, it is
difficult to decide which possesses surpassing power, but few there
are who see Emerald Bay without at once succumbing to its allurement.
Its geological history has already been given in Chapter VIII, in
which it is clearly shown by Dr. Joseph Le Conte that it was once a
glacial lake, and that the entrance to the main lake used to be the
terminal moraine that separated the two bodies of water. As a natural
consequence, therefore, visitors may expect to find evidences of
glacial action on every hand. They are not disappointed. The walls of
the Bay, on both north and south, are composed of glacial detritus,
that of the south being a pure moraine, separating the once glacial
lake of Emerald Bay from Cascade Lake.

Emerald Bay is about three miles in length, with a southwesterly
trend, and half a mile wide. The entrance is perhaps a quarter of a
mile wide and is formed by a triangular spit of sand, on which grows a
lone pine, on the one side, and a green chaparral-clad slope, known
as Eagle Point, on the other. The Bay opens and widens a little
immediately the entrance is joined. The mountains at the head of the
Bay form a majestic background. To the southwest (the left) is Mount
Tallac, with a rugged, jagged and irregular ridge leading to the west,
disappearing behind two tree-clad sister peaks, which dominate the
southern side of the Bay's head. These are known as Maggie's Peaks
(8540 and 8725 feet respectively, that to the south being the higher),
though originally their name, like that of so many rounded, shapely,
twin peaks in the western world gained by the white man from the
Indian, signified the well-developed breasts of the healthy and
vigorous maiden. Emerging from behind these the further ridge again
appears with a nearer and smoother ridge, leading up to a broken and
jagged crest that pierces the sky in rugged outline. A deep gorge is
clearly suggested in front of this ridge, in which Eagle Lake nestles,
and the granite mass which forms the eastern wall of this gorge towers
up, apparently higher than the nearer of Maggie's peaks, and is known
as Phipps' Peak (9000 feet). This is followed by still another peak,
nearer and equally as high, leading the eye further to the north,
where its pine-clad ridge merges into more ridges striking northward.

Between Maggie's and Phipps' Peaks the rocky masses are broken down
into irregular, half rolling, half rugged foothills, where pines,
firs, tamaracks and cedars send their pointed spires upwards from
varying levels. In the morning hours, or in the afternoon up to
sunset, when the shadows reveal the differing layers, rows, and levels
of the trees, they stand out with remarkable distinctness, each tree
possessing its own perfectly discernible individuality, yet each
contributing to the richness of the clothing of the mountainside, as a
whole.

Down across the lower portion of Maggie's Peaks, too to 200 feet above
the level of the Bay, the new automobile road has ruled its sloping
line down to the cut, where a sturdy rustic bridge takes it over the
stream which conveys the surplus waters from Eagle Lake to the Bay. On
the other side it is lost in the rolling foothills and the tree-lined
lower slopes of Cathedral Peak from whence it winds and hugs the Lake
shore, over Rubicon Point to Tahoe Tavern.

But Emerald Bay has other romantic attractions besides its scenery.
In the early 'sixties Ben Holladay, one of the founders of the great
Overland Stage system that reached from the Pacific Coast to the
Missouri River, built a pretentious house at the head of the Bay.
Naturally it was occupied by the family only part of the time, and in
1879, a tramp, finding it unoccupied, took up his lodgings therein,
and, as a mark of his royal departure, the structure burned down the
next morning. The site was then bought by the well-known capitalist,
Lux, of the great cattle firm of Miller & Lux, and is now owned by
Mrs. Armstrong.

As the steamer slowly and easily glides down the Bay, it circles
around a rocky islet, on which a number of trees find shelter. This
island was inhabited at one time by an eccentric Englishman, known
as Captain Dick, who, after having completed a cottage to live in,
carried out the serious idea of erecting a morgue, or a mausoleum, as
a means of final earthly deposit upon dissolution. This queer-looking
dog-house might have become a sarcophagus had it not been for one
thing, viz., Captain Dick, one dark and stormy night, having visited
one of the neighboring resorts where he had pressed his cordial
intemperately, determined to return to his solitary home. In vain the
danger was urged upon him. With characteristic obstinacy, enforced by
the false courage and destruction of his ordinarily keen perception by
the damnable liquor that had "stolen away his brains," he refused to
listen, pushed his sail-boat from the wharf and was never seen again.
His overturned boat was afterwards found, blown ashore.

[Illustration: The marble tablet on one of Maggie's Peaks, bearing
the inscription: "FLEETWOOD PEAK, ASCENDED BY MISS MARY McCONNELL,
SEPT. 12, 1869."]

[Illustration: The island in Emerald Bay, Lake Tahoe]

[Illustration: 'Whispering Pines', Al Tahoe, on Lake Tahoe]

*       *       *       *       *

EMERALD BAY CAMP

Emerald Bay is made accessible to regular summer guests by Emerald Bay
Camp, one of the choice and highly commendable resorts of the Tahoe
region. The Camp is located snugly among the pines of the north side
of the Bay, and consists of the usual hotel, with nearby cottages and
tents.

Less than five minutes' walk connects it with the picturesque
Automobile Boulevard, which is now connected with the Camp by an
automobile road. The distance is four-fifths of a mile and hundreds of
people now enjoy the hospitality of Emerald Bay Camp who come directly
to it in their own machines.

Its location suggests many advantages for the angler, the famous
Indian fishing grounds being located at the mouth of the bay. Cascade,
Eagle, and the unfished Velma Lakes are easily accessible to trampers,
the outlets from these furnishing sporty brook trout fishing. These
streams and lakes are all stocked with Eastern brook, Loch Levin
and cutthroat. The protected waters of the bay make boating safe and
bathing a comfortable delight.

But not all the beauty of nature and the advantages of excellent
location can make a popular camp. There is much in the individuality
of those who own or "run" it. Emerald Bay Camp is owned by Mr. Nelson
L. Salter, for many years so favorably known in the Yosemite Valley.
Such is its growing popularity that Mr. Salter has recently (1921)
purchased another ten acres of adjoining land, thus enlarging his
frontage on the Bay to about 1000 feet, and giving him many more
cottages for the entertainment of his guests.

*       *       *       *       *

EAGLE LAKE

From Emerald Bay Camp there are quite a number of interesting trail
and climbing trips, one of the commonest of which is that to Eagle
Lake.

Taking the trail west, one zigzags to the north until the Automobile
Boulevard is reached. A half mile's walk brings one to the bridge over
Eagle Creek. Here a few steps lead to the head of the upper portion of
Eagle Falls, which dash down a hundred feet or so to the rocky ledge,
from whence they fall to their basin, ere they flow out to join the
waters of Emerald Bay.

A few yards beyond the bridge the trail starts. It is a genuine
mountain trail, now over rough jagged blocks of granite, then through
groves of pines, firs, tamaracks and spruces, where flowers, ferns,
mosses and liverworts delight the eyes as they gaze down, and the
spiculae and cones and blue sky thrill one with delight as they look
above, and where the sunlight glitters through the trees as they look
ahead. To the right Eagle Creek comes noisily down, over falls and
cascades, making its own music to the accompaniment of the singing
voices of the trees. Now and again the creek comes to a quiet,
pastoral stretch, where it becomes absolutely "still water". Not that
it is motionless, but noiseless, covered over with trees and vines,
that reflect upon its calm surface and half hide the trout that float
so easily and lazily through its clear, pure, cold stream.

There is enough of climbing to call into exercise long unused muscles,
the granite blocks are rough, angular and irregular enough to exercise
eyes, hands and feet to keep one from falling, and the lungs are
filled with balsam-ladened mountain-air, fresh from God's own perfect
laboratories, healing, vivifying, rejuvenating, strengthening, while
the heart is helped on and encouraged to pump more and more of its
blood, drawn from long almost quiescent cells into the air-chambers of
the lungs, there to receive the purifying and life-giving oxygen and
other chemical elements that multiply the leucocytes vastly and set
them at work driving out the disease germs that accumulate and linger
in every city-living man's and woman's system.

Suddenly from a little rise the lake is revealed. Eagle Lake, or Pine
Lake, or Spruce Lake, or Hidden Lake, or Granite Lake, or Sheltered
Lake--any of these names would be appropriate. Almost circular in
form--that is if you are not expected to be too rigidly exact in
geometric terms--it is literally a jewel of lapis lazuli in a setting
of granite cliffs.

Here one may sit and rest, enjoying the placid waters of the lake, the
rugged grandeur of the immediate cliffs, or the slopes of the towering
mountains that encircle the horizon.

Eagle Lake is but one of the hundred of glacially made Sierran lakes
of the Tahoe region, but a study of its idiosyncrasies would reveal
distinctive and charming characteristics.

*       *       *       *       *

CATHEDRAL PEAK

There are two Cathedral Peaks at Tahoe, one above Cathedral Park on
Fallen Leaf Lake, the other at the rear of Emerald Bay Camp. Early in
the season, 1914, three _girls_ decided to climb this peak from
the camp although there was no trail. One of them wrote the following
account of the trip:

The most interesting peak of the Rubicon ridge is Cathedral.
The mountain rises directly back of Emerald Bay, some three
thousand feet above the Lake. About six hundred feet above the
camp there is a meadow where larkspur grows four and five
feet high. But from Eagle Creek the aspect is quite different.
There are no soft contours. Huge rocks pile up--one great
perpendicular surface adding five hundred feet to the
height--into spires and domes for all the world like some vast
cathedral which taunts the soul with its aloofness. If, on
some sunshiny afternoon you look up from the camp and see
a ghost-moon hanging, no more than a foot above the highest
spire, you must surely be "citified" if you do not pause to
drink in its weird sublimity and wild beauty.

Many winters of storm and snow have loosed the rocks
and carried them down the mountain. Those thrown down years
ago are moss-covered and have collected enough soil in their
crevices to nourish underbrush and large trees. But there are
bare rocks along Eagle Creek to-day large enough for a man
to hew a cabin from. Standing in awe of their size one surely
must look curiously up the mountain to find the spaces they
once occupied. Then, taking in the size of the peak it is
equally natural that one should be filled with a desire to
climb it and look down the other side and across the vista
to the neighboring ranges. While we were getting used to the
altitude we stood below admiring. Every evening we went out on
the wharf, gazed up at its grandeur and discussed the best
way to go, for though we knew we should have to break our own
trail, we had decided to attempt the climb. We set a day and
the hour for rising; the night before laid out our tramping
clothes and religiously went to bed at eight. I doubt if any
of us slept, for we were used to later hours and excitement
kept us awake.

As it was the first trip of the season, we lost some time at
the start, admiring each others' costumes. Two of us adhered
to the regulation short skirt and bloomers, but the third
girl wore trousers, poked into the top of her high boots. This
proved, by far, the most satisfactory dress before the day's
tramping was done. We got started at four-thirty. The first
awakened birds were twittering. The shadows of the moraine lay
reflected in the unruffled surface of the Bay. Gradually rosy
flushes showed in the east. By the time we reached the meadow
the sun rose suddenly above the Nevada mountains and some of
the chill went out of the atmosphere.

The meadow was flooded with snow-water. Beyond, the mountain
rose by sheer steps of rock with slides of decomposed granite
between. We avoided the under-brush as far as possible,
preferring to take back and forth across the loose granite.
The wind came up as we left the meadow, grew in force as we
climbed. Some one suggested breakfast, and then there began a
search for a sheltered place. A spot sided by three bowlders
away from under-brush was decided upon. By the time the fire
was built the wind was
a gale sending the flames leaping in every direction--up the
rocks and up our arms as we broiled the bacon. Breakfast was a
failure, as far as comfort was concerned. It was a relief when
we finally tramped out the embers and resumed our journey.

The top of a long snow-drift was a previously chosen
land-mark. It was seven when we reached the top of it. Some
one came out on the Bay in a row-boat--we were too high for
recognition--thought better of it and went back. Towards the
top we left the decomposed granite and underbrush behind,
climbing the rocks in preference to the snow, where the choice
was allowed us. The wind howled and shrieked, and blew with
a force great enough to destroy balance, while its icy touch
brought the blood tingling to our cheeks.

At last we reached the summit. And oh! the joy of achievement.

All Rubicon ridge and its neighbors, as far as the eye could
see, were white with snow; the lakes in the valley below
were still frozen--only one showing any blue. Clouds came up
rapidly from the west, rushed by to the Nevada side where
they piled up in great cumulous heaps. The apex of Pyramid was
cloud-capped all day. Shifting gusts drove the waters of
Tahoe scurrying first this way, then that. Where in the early
morning every tree had viewed her image among the reflected
tints of sunrise, at ten-thirty white-caps flashed and
disappeared to flash in a different place among the
everchanging eddies. Cascade and Fallen Leaf Lakes presented
a continuous procession of white-caps to the east, while Eagle
lay black and sinister in the shadow of Maggie's Peaks.

After lunch, the wind blowing too cold for comfort, we started
home, straight down--over snow, granite and underbrush--till
we hit the State Highway. Here we found a sheltered place by a
creek and talked over the day's happenings.

Along the roadside we drew up a resolution on the satisfaction
of the trip. The girl who had been cold all day didn't ever
want to see snow again, but already the others were discussing
a possible ascent from the Eagle Creek side--so great is the
lure of the high places.




CHAPTER XXII

AL-TAHOE


Al-Tahoe, four miles east of Tallac, is one of the newer, better and
more fashionable and pretentious resorts recently established at the
south end of the Lake. Its projectors saw the increasing demand for
summer residences on the Lake, and realizing to the full the superior
advantages of this location, they divided their large holding into