CHAPTER XXIII.

If there is any life that is happier than the life we led on our timber

ranch for the next two or three weeks, it must be a sort of life which I

have not read of in books or experienced in person. We did not see a

human being but ourselves during the time, or hear any sounds but those

that were made by the wind and the waves, the sighing of the pines, and

now and then the far-off thunder of an avalanche. The forest about us

was dense and cool, the sky above us was cloudless and brilliant with

sunshine, the broad lake before us was glassy and clear, or rippled and

breezy, or black and storm-tossed, according to Nature's mood; and its

circling border of mountain domes, clothed with forests, scarred with

land-slides, cloven by canons and valleys, and helmeted with glittering

snow, fitly framed and finished the noble picture. The view was always

fascinating, bewitching, entrancing. The eye was never tired of gazing,

night or day, in calm or storm; it suffered but one grief, and that was

that it could not look always, but must close sometimes in sleep.

We slept in the sand close to the water's edge, between two protecting

boulders, which took care of the stormy night-winds for us. We never

took any paregoric to make us sleep. At the first break of dawn we were

always up and running foot-races to tone down excess of physical vigor

and exuberance of spirits. That is, Johnny was--but I held his hat.

While smoking the pipe of peace after breakfast we watched the sentinel

peaks put on the glory of the sun, and followed the conquering light as

it swept down among the shadows, and set the captive crags and forests

free. We watched the tinted pictures grow and brighten upon the water

till every little detail of forest, precipice and pinnacle was wrought in

and finished, and the miracle of the enchanter complete. Then to

"business."

That is, drifting around in the boat. We were on the north shore.

There, the rocks on the bottom are sometimes gray, sometimes white.

This gives the marvelous transparency of the water a fuller advantage

than it has elsewhere on the lake. We usually pushed out a hundred yards

or so from shore, and then lay down on the thwarts, in the sun, and let

the boat drift by the hour whither it would. We seldom talked.

It interrupted the Sabbath stillness, and marred the dreams the luxurious

rest and indolence brought. The shore all along was indented with deep,

curved bays and coves, bordered by narrow sand-beaches; and where the

sand ended, the steep mountain-sides rose right up aloft into space--rose

up like a vast wall a little out of the perpendicular, and thickly wooded

with tall pines.

So singularly clear was the water, that where it was only twenty or

thirty feet deep the bottom was so perfectly distinct that the boat

seemed floating in the air! Yes, where it was even eighty feet deep.

Every little pebble was distinct, every speckled trout, every

hand's-breadth of sand. Often, as we lay on our faces, a granite

boulder, as large as a village church, would start out of the bottom

apparently, and seem climbing up rapidly to the surface, till presently

it threatened to touch our faces, and we could not resist the impulse to

seize an oar and avert the danger. But the boat would float on, and the

boulder descend again, and then we could see that when we had been

exactly above it, it must still have been twenty or thirty feet below the

surface. Down through the transparency of these great depths, the water

was not merely transparent, but dazzlingly, brilliantly so. All objects

seen through it had a bright, strong vividness, not only of outline, but

of every minute detail, which they would not have had when seen simply

through the same depth of atmosphere. So empty and airy did all spaces

seem below us, and so strong was the sense of floating high aloft in

mid-nothingness, that we called these boat-excursions "balloon-voyages."

We fished a good deal, but we did not average one fish a week. We could

see trout by the thousand winging about in the emptiness under us, or

sleeping in shoals on the bottom, but they would not bite--they could see

the line too plainly, perhaps. We frequently selected the trout we

wanted, and rested the bait patiently and persistently on the end of his

nose at a depth of eighty feet, but he would only shake it off with an

annoyed manner, and shift his position.

We bathed occasionally, but the water was rather chilly, for all it

looked so sunny. Sometimes we rowed out to the "blue water," a mile or

two from shore. It was as dead blue as indigo there, because of the

immense depth. By official measurement the lake in its centre is one

thousand five hundred and twenty-five feet deep!

Sometimes, on lazy afternoons, we lolled on the sand in camp, and smoked

pipes and read some old well-worn novels. At night, by the camp-fire, we

played euchre and seven-up to strengthen the mind--and played them with

cards so greasy and defaced that only a whole summer's acquaintance with

them could enable the student to tell the ace of clubs from the jack of

diamonds.

We never slept in our "house." It never recurred to us, for one thing;

and besides, it was built to hold the ground, and that was enough. We

did not wish to strain it.

By and by our provisions began to run short, and we went back to the old

camp and laid in a new supply. We were gone all day, and reached home

again about night-fall, pretty tired and hungry. While Johnny was

carrying the main bulk of the provisions up to our "house" for future

use, I took the loaf of bread, some slices of bacon, and the coffee-pot,

ashore, set them down by a tree, lit a fire, and went back to the boat to

get the frying-pan. While I was at this, I heard a shout from Johnny,

and looking up I saw that my fire was galloping all over the premises!

Johnny was on the other side of it. He had to run through the flames to

get to the lake shore, and then we stood helpless and watched the

devastation.

The ground was deeply carpeted with dry pine-needles, and the fire

touched them off as if they were gunpowder. It was wonderful to see with

what fierce speed the tall sheet of flame traveled! My coffee-pot was

gone, and everything with it. In a minute and a half the fire seized

upon a dense growth of dry manzanita chapparal six or eight feet high,

and then the roaring and popping and crackling was something terrific.

We were driven to the boat by the intense heat, and there we remained,

spell-bound.

Within half an hour all before us was a tossing, blinding tempest of

flame! It went surging up adjacent ridges--surmounted them and

disappeared in the canons beyond--burst into view upon higher and farther

ridges, presently--shed a grander illumination abroad, and dove again

--flamed out again, directly, higher and still higher up the

mountain-side--threw out skirmishing parties of fire here and there, and

sent them trailing their crimson spirals away among remote ramparts and

ribs and gorges, till as far as the eye could reach the lofty

mountain-fronts were webbed as it were with a tangled network of red lava

streams. Away across the water the crags and domes were lit with a ruddy

glare, and the firmament above was a reflected hell!

Every feature of the spectacle was repeated in the glowing mirror of the

lake! Both pictures were sublime, both were beautiful; but that in the

lake had a bewildering richness about it that enchanted the eye and held

it with the stronger fascination.

We sat absorbed and motionless through four long hours. We never thought

of supper, and never felt fatigue. But at eleven o'clock the

conflagration had traveled beyond our range of vision, and then darkness

stole down upon the landscape again.

Hunger asserted itself now, but there was nothing to eat. The provisions

were all cooked, no doubt, but we did not go to see. We were homeless

wanderers again, without any property. Our fence was gone, our house

burned down; no insurance. Our pine forest was well scorched, the dead

trees all burned up, and our broad acres of manzanita swept away. Our

blankets were on our usual sand-bed, however, and so we lay down and went

to sleep. The next morning we started back to the old camp, but while

out a long way from shore, so great a storm came up that we dared not try

to land. So I baled out the seas we shipped, and Johnny pulled heavily

through the billows till we had reached a point three or four miles

beyond the camp. The storm was increasing, and it became evident that it

was better to take the hazard of beaching the boat than go down in a

hundred fathoms of water; so we ran in, with tall white-caps following,

and I sat down in the stern-sheets and pointed her head-on to the shore.

The instant the bow struck, a wave came over the stern that washed crew

and cargo ashore, and saved a deal of trouble. We shivered in the lee of

a boulder all the rest of the day, and froze all the night through. In

the morning the tempest had gone down, and we paddled down to the camp

without any unnecessary delay. We were so starved that we ate up the

rest of the Brigade's provisions, and then set out to Carson to tell them

about it and ask their forgiveness. It was accorded, upon payment of

damages.

We made many trips to the lake after that, and had many a hair-breadth

escape and blood-curdling adventure which will never be recorded in any

history.

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