and invigorating plunge, with a stimulating and vivifying swim.  A swift rub down with a crash towel, a rapid donning of rude walking togs and off, instanter, for a mile climb up one of the trails, a scramble over a rocky way to some hidden Sierran lake, some sheltered tree nook, some elevated outlook point, and, after feasting the eyes on the glories of incomparable and soul-elevating scenes, he returns to camp, eats a hearty breakfast, with a clear conscience, a vigorous appetite aided by hunger sauce, guided by the normal instincts of taste, all of which have been toned up by the morning’s exercise—­what wonder that such an one radiates Life and Vim, Energy and Health, Joy and Content.

Do you know what the lure must be when a busy man, an active man, an alert man, a man saturated with the nervous spirit of American commercial life, sits down in one of the seats overlooking the Lake, or spreads out his full length upon the grass, or on the beds of Sierran moss, which make a deliciously restful cushion, and stays there!  He does nothing; doesn’t even look consciously at the blue waters of the Lake, on the ineffable blue of the sky, or the rich green of the trees or the glory of the flowers—­he simply sits or sprawls or lies and, though the influence is different, the effect is the same as that expressed in the old hymn: 

        My soul would ever stay,
        In such a frame as this,
        And sit and sing itself away,
        To everlasting bliss.

There’s the idea!  Calm, rest, peace, bliss.  Those are what you get at Lake Tahoe.  And with them come renewed health, increased vigor, strengthened courage, new power to go forth and seize the problems of life, with a surer grasp, a more certain touch, a more clearly and definitely assured end.

There are some peculiarities of Lake Tahoe that should be noted, although they are of a very different character from the foolish and sensational statements that used to be made in the early days of its history among white men.  A serious advertising folder years ago sagely informed the traveling public as follows:  “A strange phenomenon in connection with the Truckee River is the fact that the Lake from which it flows (Tahoe) has no inlet, so far as any one knows, and the lake into which it flows (Pyramid Lake, Nevada), has no outlet.”

[Illustration:  MT.  TALLAC IN STORM.  LAKE TAHOE, CAL.]

[Illustration:  THE PICTURESQUE TRUCKER RIVER, NEAR LAKE TAHOE]

How utterly absurd this is.  Lake Tahoe has upward of a hundred feeders, among which may be named Glenbrook, the Upper Truckee, Fallen Leaf Creek, Eagle Creek, Meek’s Creek, General Creek, McKinney Creek, Madden Creek, Blackwood Creek, and Ward Creek, all of these being constant streams, pouring many thousands of inches of water daily into the Lake even at the lowest flow, and in the snow-melting and rainy seasons sending down their floods in great abundance.