s of ruins;

the great glacial _cirques_, with their stupendous precipices
from which the vast ice-sheets started, which gouged, smoothed,
planed and grooved millions of acres of solid granite into lake-beds,
polished domes and canyon walls and carried along millions of tons of
rock debris to make scores of lateral and terminal moraines; together
with the evidences of uplift, subsidence and volcanic outpouring of
diorite and other molten rocks, afford one as vast and enjoyable a
field for contemplation as any ordinary man can find in the Grand
Canyon.

But why compare them? There is no need to do so. Each is supreme in
its own right; different yet compelling, unlike yet equally engaging.

Then there are the ineffable climate of summer, the sunrises, the
sunsets, the Indians, the flowers, the sweet-singing birds, the
rowing, in winter the snow-shoeing, the camping-out, and, alas! I must
say it--the hunting.

Why man will hunt save for food is beyond me. I deem it that every
living thing has as much right to its life as I have to mine, but I
find I am in a large minority among a certain class that finds at Lake
Tahoe its hunting Mecca. Deer abound, and grouse and quail are quite
common, and in the summer of 1913 I knew of four bears being shot.

Is it necessary to present further claims for Lake Tahoe? Every new
hour finds a new charm, every new day calls for the louder praise,
every added visit only fastens the chains of allurement deeper. For
instance, this is the day of athletic maids, as well as men. We find
them everywhere. Very well! Lake Tahoe is the physical culturist's
heaven.

In any one of its score of camps he may sleep out of doors, on the
porch, out under the pines, by the side of the Lake or in his tent
or cottage with open doors and windows. At sunrise, or later, in his
bathing suit, or when away from too close neighbors, clothed, as
dear old Walt Whitman puts it, "in the natural and religious idea of
nakedness," the cold waters of the Lake invite him to a healthful 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,