ng air and the snow-clad
forests, Lake Tahoe is as charming in winter as in summer, and far
grander. There is the same water--in morning placid, in afternoon
foam-flecked, on days of storm tempestuous. The Lake never freezes;
not even a film of ice fringes its edge. Sunny skies and warm
noons and the Lake's own restlessness prevent. Emerald Bay alone is
sometimes closed with ice, but more often it is as open as the outer
Lake. Even the pebbles glisten on the beach as far back as the wash of
the waves extends.

But beyond the reach of the waves a deep mantle of white clads the
forests and caps the distant peaks. The refuse of the forests, the
dusty roads, and the inequalities of the ground are all buried deep.
A smooth, gently undulating surface of dazzling white has taken their
place.

The forest trees are laden with snow--each frond bears its pyramid and
each needle its plume of white. The fresh green of the foliage and the
ruddy brown of the bark are accentuated rather than subdued by their
white setting. But as the eye travels the long vista of ascending and
retreating forest, the green and the brown of the near-by trees fade
gradually away until the forest becomes a fluffy mantle of white
upon the distant mountain side. Above and beyond the forest's utmost
reaches rise the mountain crags and peaks, every angle rounded into
gentle contours beneath its burden of snow.

[Illustration: The Fergusson Metrograph on the summit of Mt. Rose,
wrecked by snow "feathers," some of which were six feet long.]

[Illustration: Refuge Hut and Headquarters for Snow Studies on
Mt. Rose, 9000 Feet]

[Illustration: Skiing from Tallac to Fallen Leaf Lodge]

[Illustration: Snow Surveyor on the Mountains Above Glen Alpine
in Winter]

Along the margin of the Lake appear the habitations and works of
men deeply buried and snow-hooded until they recall the scenes in
Whittier's _Snow Bound_.

The lover of the Lake and its bird life will miss the gulls but will
find compensation in the presence of the wild fowl--the ducks and the
geese--that have returned to their winter haunts.

Lake Tahoe is remarkably adapted as a winter resort for three prime
reasons: first, it is easily accessible; second, no place in
the Sierra Nevada, excepting not even Yosemite, offers so many
attractions; third, it is the natural and easy gateway in winter to
the remote fastnesses of the northern Sierra.

Among the attractions preeminently associated with L