It
was
the
end
of
August,
and
the
skies
were
cloudless
and
the
weather
superb.
In
two
or
three
weeks
I had grown
wonderfully
fascinated
with
the
curious
new
country
and
concluded
to
put
off
my
return
to
"the States" awhile. I had grown
well
accustomed
to
wearing a
damaged
slouch hat, blue
woolen
shirt,
and
pants
crammed
into
boot-tops,
and
gloried
in
the
absence
of
coat,
vest
and
braces. I felt rowdyish
and
"bully," (as
the
historian
Josephus phrases it,
in
his
fine
chapter
upon
the
destruction
of
the
Temple).
It
seemed
to
me
that
nothing
could
be
so
fine
and
so
romantic. I had
become
an
officer
of
the
government,
but
that
was
for
mere
sublimity.
The
office
was
an
unique
sinecure. I had
nothing
to
do
and
no
salary. I
was
private
Secretary
to
his
majesty
the
Secretary
and
there
was
not
yet
writing
enough
for
two
of
us.
So
Johnny
K——and I devoted
our
time
to
amusement.
He
was
the
young
son
of
an
Ohio
nabob
and
was
out
there
for
recreation.
He
got it.
We
had
heard
a
world
of
talk
about
the
marvellous
beauty
of
Lake
Tahoe,
and
finally
curiosity
drove
us
thither
to
see
it.
Three
or
four
members
of
the
Brigade
had been
there
and
located
some
timber
lands
on
its
shores
and
stored
up
a
quantity
of
provisions
in
their
camp.
We
strapped a
couple
of
blankets
on
our
shoulders
and
took
an
axe
apiece
and
started—for
we
intended
to
take
up
a
wood
ranch
or
so
ourselves
and
become
wealthy.
We
were
on
foot.
The
reader
will
find
it
advantageous
to
go
horseback.
We
were
told
that
the
distance
was
eleven
miles.
We
tramped a
long
time
on
level
ground,
and
then
toiled
laboriously
up
a
mountain
about
a
thousand
miles
high
and
looked
over.
No
lake
there.
We
descended
on
the
other
side,
crossed
the
valley
and
toiled
up
another
mountain
three
or
four
thousand
miles
high, apparently,
and
looked
over
again.
No
lake
yet.
We
sat
down
tired
and
perspiring,
and
hired
a
couple
of
Chinamen
to
curse
those
people
who
had beguiled us.
Thus
refreshed,
we
presently
resumed
the
march
with
renewed
vigor
and
determination.
We
plodded on,
two
or
three
hours
longer,
and
at
last
the
Lake
burst
upon
us—a
noble
sheet
of
blue
water
lifted
six
thousand
three
hundred
feet
above
the
level
of
the
sea,
and
walled
in
by
a
rim
of
snow-clad
mountain
peaks
that
towered
aloft
full
three
thousand
feet
higher
still!
It
was
a
vast
oval,
and
one
would
have
to
use
up
eighty
or
a
hundred
good
miles
in
traveling
around
it.
As
it
lay
there
with
the
shadows
of
the
mountains
brilliantly
photographed
upon
its
still
surface I
thought
it
must
surely
be
the
fairest
picture
the
whole
earth
affords.
We
found
the
small
skiff
belonging
to
the
Brigade
boys,
and
without
loss
of
time
set
out
across
a
deep
bend
of
the
lake
toward
the
landmarks
that
signified
the
locality
of
the
camp. I got
Johnny
to
row—not
because
I
mind
exertion myself,
but
because
it
makes
me
sick
to
ride
backwards
when
I
am
at
work.
But
I steered. A three-mile
pull
brought
us
to
the
camp
just
as
the
night
fell,
and
we
stepped
ashore
very
tired
and
wolfishly hungry.
In
a "cache"
among
the
rocks
we
found
the
provisions
and
the
cooking utensils,
and
then,
all
fatigued
as
I was, I sat
down
on
a
boulder
and
superintended
while
Johnny
gathered
wood
and
cooked supper.
Many
a
man
who
had gone
through
what
I had,
would
have
wanted
to
rest.
It
was
a
delicious
supper—hot bread, fried bacon,
and
black
coffee.
It
was
a
delicious
solitude
we
were
in, too.
Three
miles
away
was
a saw- mill
and
some
workmen,
but
there
were
not
fifteen
other
human
beings
throughout
the
wide
circumference
of
the
lake.
As
the
darkness
closed
down
and
the
stars came
out
and
spangled
the
great
mirror
with
jewels,
we
smoked
meditatively
in
the
solemn
hush
and
forgot
our
troubles
and
our
pains.
In
due
time
we
spread
our
blankets
in
the
warm
sand
between
two
large
boulders
and
soon
feel asleep,
careless
of
the
procession
of
ants
that
passed
in
through
rents
in
our
clothing
and
explored
our
persons.
Nothing
could
disturb
the
sleep
that
fettered
us,
for
it
had been
fairly
earned,
and
if
our
consciences
had
any
sins
on
them
they
had
to
adjourn
court
for
that
night,
any
way.
The
wind
rose
just
as
we
were
losing
consciousness,
and
we
were
lulled
to
sleep
by
the
beating
of
the
surf
upon
the
shore.
It
is
always
very
cold
on
that
lake
shore
in
the
night,
but
we
had
plenty
of
blankets
and
were
warm
enough.
We
never
moved
a
muscle
all
night,
but
waked
at
early
dawn
in
the
original
positions,
and
got
up
at
once,
thoroughly
refreshed,
free
from
soreness,
and
brim
full
of
friskiness.
There
is
no
end
of
wholesome
medicine
in
such
an
experience.
That
morning
we
could
have
whipped
ten
such
people
as
we
were
the
day
before—sick
ones
at
any
rate.
But
the
world
is
slow,
and
people
will
go
to
"water cures"
and
"movement cures"
and
to
foreign
lands
for
health.
Three
months
of
camp
life
on
Lake
Tahoe
would
restore
an
Egyptian
mummy
to
his
pristine
vigor,
and
give
him
an
appetite
like
an
alligator. I
do
not
mean
the
oldest
and
driest mummies,
of
course,
but
the
fresher
ones.
The
air
up
there
in
the
clouds
is
very
pure
and
fine,
bracing
and
delicious.
And
why
shouldn't
it
be?—it
is
the
same
the
angels
breathe. I
think
that
hardly
any
amount
of
fatigue
can
be
gathered
together
that
a
man
cannot
sleep
off
in
one
night
on
the
sand
by
its
side.
Not
under
a roof,
but
under
the
sky;
it
seldom
or
never
rains
there
in
the
summer
time. I
know
a
man
who
went
there
to
die.
But
he
made
a
failure
of
it.
He
was
a
skeleton
when
he
came,
and
could
barely
stand.
He
had
no
appetite,
and
did
nothing
but
read
tracts
and
reflect
on
the
future.
Three
months
later
he
was
sleeping
out
of
doors
regularly,
eating
all
he
could
hold,
three
times a day,
and
chasing
game
over
mountains
three
thousand
feet high
for
recreation.
And
he
was
a
skeleton
no
longer,
but
weighed
part
of
a ton.
This
is
no
fancy sketch,
but
the
truth.
His
disease
was
consumption. I
confidently
commend
his
experience
to
other
skeletons. I
superintended
again,
and
as
soon
as
we
had
eaten
breakfast
we
got
in
the
boat
and
skirted
along
the
lake
shore
about
three
miles
and
disembarked.
We
liked
the
appearance
of
the
place,
and
so
we
claimed
some
three
hundred
acres
of
it
and
stuck
our
"notices"
on
a tree.
It
was
yellow
pine
timber
land—a
dense
forest
of
trees a
hundred
feet high
and
from
one
to
five
feet
through
at
the
butt.
It
was
necessary
to
fence
our
property
or
we
could
not
hold
it.
That
is
to
say,
it
was
necessary
to
cut
down
trees
here
and
there
and
make
them
fall
in
such
a
way
as
to
form
a
sort
of
enclosure (with pretty
wide
gaps
in
it).
We
cut
down
three
trees apiece,
and
found
it
such
heart-breaking
work
that
we
decided
to
"rest
our
case"
on
those;
if
they
held
the
property,
well
and
good;
if
they
didn't,
let
the
property
spill
out
through
the
gaps
and
go;
it
was
no
use
to
work
ourselves
to
death
merely
to
save a
few
acres
of
land.
Next
day
we
came
back
to
build a house—for a
house
was
also
necessary,
in
order
to
hold
the
property.
We
decided
to
build a
substantial
log-
house
and
excite
the
envy
of
the
Brigade
boys;
but
by
the
time
we
had
cut
and
trimmed
the
first
log
it
seemed
unnecessary
to
be
so
elaborate,
and
so
we
concluded
to
build
it
of
saplings. However,
two
saplings, duly
cut
and
trimmed,
compelled
recognition
of
the
fact
that
a
still
modester
architecture
would
satisfy
the
law,
and
so
we
concluded
to
build a "brush" house.
We
devoted
the
next
day
to
this
work,
but
we
did
so
much
"sitting around"
and
discussing,
that
by
the
middle
of
the
afternoon
we
had
achieved
only
a half-way
sort
of
affair
which
one
of
us
had
to
watch
while
the
other
cut
brush,
lest
if
both
turned
our
backs
we
might
not
be
able
to
find
it
again,
it
had
such
a
strong
family
resemblance
to
the
surrounding
vegetation.
But
we
were
satisfied
with
it.
We
were
land
owners now, duly
seized
and
possessed,
and
within
the
protection
of
the
law.
Therefore
we
decided
to
take
up
our
residence
on
our
own
domain
and
enjoy
that
large
sense
of
independence
which
only
such
an
experience
can
bring.
Late
the
next
afternoon,
after
a
good
long
rest,
we
sailed
away
from
the
Brigade
camp
with
all
the
provisions
and
cooking
utensils
we
could
carry off—borrow
is
the
more
accurate
word—and
just
as
the
night
was
falling
we
beached
the
boat
at
our
own
landing.