most prominent,
or, on the other hand, the rarer and special flowering plants that the
visitor should eagerly search for.

As fast as the snow retires from the sun-kissed slopes the flowers
begin to come out. Indeed in April, were one at Tahoe, he could make
a daily pilgrimage to the receding snow-line and there enjoy new
revelations of dainty beauty each morning. For the flowers, as the
snow-coating becomes thinner, respond to the "call of the sun", and
thrust up their spears out of the softened and moistened earth, so
that when the last touch of snow is gone they are often already in bud
ready to burst forth into flower at the first kiss of sunshine.

In May they come trooping along in all their pristine glory, God's
thoughts cast upon the mold of earth, so that even the men and women
of downcast eyes and souls may know the ever-fresh, ever-present love
of God.

Most interesting of all is the snow-plant (_sarcodes san-guinea
Torrey_). The name is unfortunate. The plant doesn't look like
snow, nor does it grow on or in the snow. It simply follows the snow
line, as so many of the Sierran plants do, and as the snow melts and
leaves the valley, one must climb to find it. It is of a rich red
color, which glows in the sunlight like a living thing. It has no
leaves but is supplied with over-lapping scale-like bracts of a
warm flesh-tint. At the lower part of the flower these are rigid and
closely adherent to the stem, but higher up they become looser and
curl gracefully about among the vivid red bells. In the spring of 1914
they were wonderfully plentiful at the Tavern and all around the Lake.
I literally saw hundreds of them.

Next in interest comes the heather, both red and white. In Desolation
Valley, as well as around most of the Sierran lakes of the Tahoe
Region, beds of heather are found that have won enthusiastic Scotchmen
to declare that Tahoe heather beats that of Scotland. The red heather
is the more abundant, and its rich deep green leaves and crown of
glowing red makes it to be desired, but the white heather is a flower
fit for the delicate corsage bouquet of a queen, or the lapel of the
noblest of men. Dainty and exquisite, perfect in shape and color its
tiny white bell is _par-excellence_ the emblem of passionate
purity.

Blue gentians (_Gentina calycosa, Griseb_) abound, their deep
blue blossoms rivaling the pure blue of our Sierran skies. These often
come late in the season and cheer the hearts of thos