broken and
jagged crest that pierces the sky in rugged outline. A deep gorge is
clearly suggested in front of this ridge, in which Eagle Lake nestles,
and the granite mass which forms the eastern wall of this gorge towers
up, apparently higher than the nearer of Maggie's peaks, and is known
as Phipps' Peak (9000 feet). This is followed by still another peak,
nearer and equally as high, leading the eye further to the north,
where its pine-clad ridge merges into more ridges striking northward.

Between Maggie's and Phipps' Peaks the rocky masses are broken down
into irregular, half rolling, half rugged foothills, where pines,
firs, tamaracks and cedars send their pointed spires upwards from
varying levels. In the morning hours, or in the afternoon up to
sunset, when the shadows reveal the differing layers, rows, and levels
of the trees, they stand out with remarkable distinctness, each tree
possessing its own perfectly discernible individuality, yet each
contributing to the richness of the clothing of the mountainside, as a
whole.

Down across the lower portion of Maggie's Peaks, too to 200 feet above
the level of the Bay, the new automobile road has ruled its sloping
line down to the cut, where a sturdy rustic bridge takes it over the
stream which conveys the surplus waters from Eagle Lake to the Bay. On
the other side it is lost in the rolling foothills and the tree-lined
lower slopes of Cathedral Peak from whence it winds and hugs the Lake
shore, over Rubicon Point to Tahoe Tavern.

But Emerald Bay has other romantic attractions besides its scenery.
In the early 'sixties Ben Holladay, one of the founders of the great
Overland Stage system that reached from the Pacific Coast to the
Missouri River, built a pretentious house at the head of the Bay.
Naturally it was occupied by the family only part of the time, and in
1879, a tramp, finding it unoccupied, took up his lodgings therein,
and, as a mark of his royal departure, the structure burned down the
next morning. The site was then bought by the well-known capitalist,
Lux, of the great cattle firm of Miller & Lux, and is now owned by
Mrs. Armstrong.

As the steamer slowly and easily glides down the Bay, it circles
around a rocky islet, on which a number of trees find shelter. This
island was inhabited at one time by an eccentric Englishman, known
as Captain Dick, who, after having completed a cottage to live in,
carried out the serious idea of erecting a morgue, or