In each instance we passed the night at Sacramento, which is the best starting point for the day’s run to Tahoe, being about one hundred and twenty miles distant by either route. We were sure of every comfort and convenience here—there are a dozen hotels ranging from good-enough24 to first-class—and our repeated visits had given us more and more of a liking5 for Sacramento. It is a clean, beautiful city, practically a seaport6, so deep and broad is its mighty7 tide-water river, which carries a yearly commerce, incoming and outgoing, of an aggregate8 value of more than fifty million dollars. The surrounding country is very fertile, with greatly varied9 agricultural and fruit-growing resources which form the basis of the city’s prosperity and assure its future. Its streets and private and public buildings have a truly metropolitan10 appearance which in the east would indicate a city of much more than fifty or sixty thousand population. The Capitol building, a white marble structure of purely11 classic lines, stands in a beautiful semi-tropic park of about forty acres. This is beautified with endless varieties of shrubs12 and trees, among them palms of many species, for the climate is such that orange groves13, olives and almonds flourish quite as vigorously as in Southern California. The oranges ripen15 here from six weeks to two months earlier than in the south, giving the growers the advantage of early markets, and the quality of the fruit is equal to the best. Surrounding the city are endless orchards16 of peach, pear, prune18, apricot, cherry, and many other varieties of fruit trees; and there are extensive vineyards of both wine and table25 grapes. Dairying, stock-raising, gardening, as well as other branches of farming are carried on—very profitably, if one may judge by appearances. Manufacturing is also done on a considerable scale in the city and vicinity and gold mining in the county is an industry producing about two millions annually20. All of which would seem to indicate that Sacramento has not yet reached the zenith of its growth and prosperity. It is favorably situated21 as to railroads, having a service of three transcontinental lines since the Santa Fe has leased right of way over the Western Pacific. The new state highway enters the city from north and south and a direct route has been opened to San Francisco by the completion of the great Yolo Trestle, shortening the distance by wagon22 road—thirty miles less than via Stockton and Altamont, formerly23 the standard route. This great engineering feat24 bridges the Yolo basin, which is flooded during several months of the year, with a solid concrete causeway twenty-one feet wide and over three miles long, carried on re-enforced concrete piles rising twenty feet above ground. It was completed in about eighteen months and cost a little under four hundred thousand dollars. We ran over it on our last trip to Sacramento and it seemed like a fairy tale indeed to be bowling27 along twenty feet above the formerly impassable marsh28 as safely26 and smoothly29 as upon an asphalted city boulevard. In addition to the state highway, Sacramento County already has many miles of good road of her own construction, but she is planning still larger things in the immediate30 future. A highway bond issue of two million dollars was authorized31 late in 1916 by a majority of nearly four to one, emphatically proving the enlightenment of the citizens of the county on the question of improved roads. The proceeds of this issue will improve practically all the main highways and make Sacramento County one of the favorite touring grounds of the state.
Historically, the capital city is one of the most interesting towns in the state, since it is the oldest settlement of white men in the interior of California. It had a population of more than ten thousand in 1849, though doubtless the majority of the inhabitants were transient gold-seekers. It was the goal of the greater number of emigrants33 who came overland during the “gold fever” period and was a famous outfitting34 point for the prospective35 miners who rushed here because of the proximity36 of the gold fields. Ten years earlier a colony of Swiss emigrants, under the name of New Helvetia, was established on the present site of the city by Col. John H. Sutter. It soon became better known as Sutter’s Fort, on account of the solid blockhouse built by the27 founder37, which still stands in good repair, now containing a museum of relics38 of pioneer days. Sutter employed John Marshall, whom he sent to Coloma, some fifty miles east of Sacramento, to build a mill on the South American river. Here Marshall picked up the famous nugget that threw the whole world into a ferment39 in the late forties and turned the tide of emigration to California.
But perhaps we are permitting our fondness for Sacramento to detain us too long on the subject; it did not prevent us, however, from getting an early start from our hotel on the Auburn road for Tahoe. Out of the city for several miles through a fertile orchard17 and farm country, we pursued a level, well-improved road which led us toward the great hill range that marks the western confines of the valley. Entering the rounded brown foothills, we kept a steady ascent40 through scattering41 groves of oak and pine, with here and there along the way a well-ordered stock farm or fruit ranch19. It was in the height of the peach season and a sign at a ranch house gate tempted43 us to purchase. A silver dime44 brought us such a quantity of big, luscious45, rosy-cheeked fruit that we scarcely knew where to bestow46 it about the car. It was just off the tree and ripe to perfection, and by comparison with the very best one could buy in a fruit market, it seemed a new and unheard-of variety—ambrosia fit only for the28 gods. Its fragrance47 and savoriness linger with us yet and do much to mitigate48 the recollection of divers49 disasters and disappointments that overtook us ere we reached our destination. And they told us that so immense was the crop of peaches and pears in this locality that some of this unequalled fruit was being fed to the pigs.
Following a winding50 but fair road through the hills, we soon came, as we supposed, into the main part of Auburn, for we had taken no pains to learn anything about the town. At the foot of a sharp hill we paused in a crooked51 street with a row of ramshackle buildings on either side and it was apparent at a glance that the population of the ancient-looking town was chiefly Chinese. A few saloons and one or two huge wooden boarding houses were the most salient features and a small blacksmith shop near the end of the street was labeled “Garage.” We mentally classed “Sweet Auburn” with Chinese Camp and following the road leading out of the place began the ascent of an exceedingly steep hill.
We were not destined52 to pass old Auburn with so short an acquaintance, for something went wrong with the gearing of the car before we were half way up the hill and we returned perforce to the wretched little garage we had passed, never dreaming that at the crest53 of the hill was a fine, modern town with one of the best-equipped29 machine shops we saw outside of the cities. While the proprietor54 of the garage, who combined in his single person the function of consulting engineer and mechanical repairman, was endeavoring to diagnose our trouble, we learned from a bystander that there was another Auburn on the hilltop with an excellent hotel—welcome news, for apparently55 chances were strong for passing the night in the town. We found the newer section well built and attractive, with a handsome courthouse, an imposing56 high school, and a new bank building with tall, classic pillars that would hardly be out of place on Fifth Avenue. Best of all, we found a comfortable hotel, which did much to mitigate the disappointment of our enforced sojourn57 in the town.
Though the trouble with the car was trifling58, much time was consumed by our garage expert in locating it and still more in dissuading59 him from making a three-days’ job of it by tearing the machine to pieces, which he evinced a lively desire to do. A threat to remove the car to the garage on the hill, however, proved efficacious and by the middle of the afternoon he pronounced the job complete. And here we may pause to remark that before we reached Tahoe we had more serious trouble with this miserable60 car, which we shall pass over for the double reason that a recital61 would vex62 us with harrowing30 memories and be of no interest to the reader. We only registered a silent, solemn vow63 with good St. Christopher, the patron saint of all travelers, that our next tour should be made in our own car and we fulfilled our vow a year later in the long jaunt64 to Portland and return covered by this book.
As it was too late in the day to continue our journey after the car was ready, we contented65 ourselves with driving about town. The hotel people especially urged us not to miss the view from a second hill which dominated the new town and upon which may be found the homes of Auburn’s Four Hundred. A truly magnificent outlook greeted us from this hillcrest—a far-reaching panorama66 of the canyon67 of the American River, intersected by the gleaming stream more than a thousand feet beneath. On either side of the river we beheld68 range upon range of wooded hills stretching away to the blue haze69 of the horizon, the rugged70 wall of the Sierras looming71 dimly in the far distance. From our point of vantage, we could see the broad vale of the Sacramento to the westward72, and, nearer at hand, the foothills intersected by the pleasant valleys with orchards and cultivated fields, dotted here and there with white ranch houses.
Beyond Auburn the road climbs steadily73 to Colfax, a few short pitches ranging from fifteen31 to twenty per cent. The surface was good and we were delighted by many fine vistas74 from the hilltops as we hastened along. At Applegate was a deserted75 hotel and “tent city,” said to be very popular resorts earlier in the summer. Colfax was the Illinois Town of mining times and still has many buildings dating back to the “days of gold.” The town was given its present name when the steam road came and it is now a center of considerable activity in railroading. Here we heard of a new California industry, for tobacco is grown in the vicinity and cigars made from the home-grown plant may be had at the local shops. There is also a famous vineyard and winery near the town, operated by an Italian colony similar to those of the Napa Valley. There is much beautiful scenery about Colfax. From the nearby summits across long reaches of forest-clad hills, one may see on one hand the mighty ranks of the snow-clad Sierras and on the other the dim outlines of the Coast Range. On exceptionally clear days, they told us, the shining cone76 of Shasta may be seen, though it is more than one hundred and fifty miles away.
Out of Colfax we continue to climb steadily and soon come upon reminders77 of the days when this was one of the greatest gold-producing sections of California. The hillsides everywhere show the scars of old-time placer mining.32 Millions of the precious metal were produced here in the few years following ’49, but operations have long since ceased and the deserted villages are fast falling into ruin. Dutch Flat and Gold Run, now stations on the Southern Pacific, could no doubt have furnished Bret Harte with characters and incidents quite as varied and picturesque as Angel’s Camp or Sonora had his wanderings brought him hither. For the disappearance78 of the good old golden days, the natives console themselves in this fashion, quoting advertising79 literature issued by Placer County: “In days gone by the gold mining industry made this section famous. To-day the golden fruit brings it wealth and renown80.” And it also holds forth81 the hope that scientific mining methods may yet find “much gold in the old river beds and seams of gold-bearing rock.”
From Dutch Flat to Emigrant32 Gap, perhaps a dozen miles, the road climbs continually, winding through pine forests that crowd closely on either hand. Here is one of the wildest sections of the Sierras accessible to motor cars, and the weird82 beauty culminates83 at Emigrant Gap, a great natural gash84 in the Sierras which in early days gave its name to the road by which the great majority of overland emigrants entered California. Near this point, a little distance to the right of the road and some two thousand feet33 beneath, lies Bear Valley, one of the loveliest vales of the Sierras—in early summer an emerald green meadow—lying between Yuba River and Bear Creek85, shut in on every hand by tree-clad slopes. From Emigrant Gap to the summit of the divide, a distance of twenty-seven miles, the road mounts steadily through the pines, winding around abrupt86 turns and climbing heavy grades—the last pitch rising to thirty per cent, according to our road book, though we doubt if it is really so steep. Crystal Lake and Lake Van Orten are passed on the way, two blue mountain tarns87 lying far below on the right-hand side of the road. From the summit, at an elevation88 of a little over seven thousand feet, we have a wonderful view both eastward89 and westward. Behind us the rugged hills through which we have wended our way slope gently to the Sacramento Valley—so gently that in the one hundred miles since leaving the plain we have risen only a mile and a half. Before us is the sharper fall of the eastern slope and far beneath, in a setting of green sward and stately pines, the placid90 blue waters of Donner Lake, beautiful despite the tragic91 associations which come unbidden to our minds.
The Donner party of thirty-one people set out from Illinois in April, 1846, and after almost unbelievable hardships, which caused the death34 of many of them, arrived in the vicinity of Truckee in October. Here they were overtaken by a terrific snowstorm that made farther progress impossible and they camped on the shores of Donner Lake until the following February. Many other emigrants had joined the party on the way and in spite of the numerous deaths while enroute, eighty-three were snowed in at this camp. Forty-nine of these perished before relief arrived and only eighteen finally survived to reach California. The first crossing by emigrants over this route was made in 1844 and the fate of the Donner party was due to being caught by the early winter rather than the difficulties of the road. Snow fell during that winter to the depth of twenty-two feet, as proven by a stump92 of a tree cut by the emigrants; and a fall of from ten to twenty feet is not uncommon93 even now in this vicinity.
Crossing the mountains, one is appalled94 by the thought of the difficulties encountered by the pioneer who had neither road nor signboard, but must make his way over rugged hills and deep valleys, across wide rivers, and through virgin95 forests with only a dimly blazed trail to guide him—and even this was often wanting. If a motor trip across the continent even now is not without its difficulties and discomforts96, what hardships must the pioneers with the ox-drawn35 wagons98 have endured in that far-off day when neither railway nor wagon road entered the savage99 wilderness100 and the only inhabitants were hostile Indians and wild beasts.
ACROSS LAKE TAHOE
From painting by H. H. Bagg
The descent from the summit of the divide to Truckee is gradual, some twelve hundred feet in nine miles, though there are a few short, steep grades of from fifteen to twenty per cent, according to our authority. It was dark when we reached Truckee, but as there was no chance of going astray on the road to Tahoe Tavern101, we determined102 to proceed. The road for the entire distance of fifteen miles closely follows the Truckee River, a swift, shallow stream fed from the limpid103 waters of Lake Tahoe. It was a glorious moonlight night and the gleaming river, the jagged hills on either hand, and the dark pine forests, all combined to make a wild but entrancingly beautiful effect. As we later saw the Truckee Canyon by daylight, we have every reason to be glad that we traversed it by moonlight as well.
Tahoe Tavern, with its myriad104 lights, was a welcome sight, none the less, after an exceedingly strenuous105 trip, the personal details of which I have forborne to inflict106 upon the reader. We were given rooms in the new annex107, a frame-and-shingle building, and were delighted to find that our windows opened upon the moonlit lake.36 The mountain tops on the opposite shore were shrouded108 in heavy clouds through which the moon struggled at intervals109, transmuting110 the clear, still surface of the lake from a dark, dull mirror to a softly lighted sheet of water with a path of gleaming silver running across it. Directly a thunder storm broke over the eastern shore—very uncommon in summer, we were told—and we had the spectacle of clouds and lake lighted weirdly111 by flashes of lightning. The thunder rolling among the peaks and across the water brought vividly112 to our minds Byron’s description of a thunderstorm on Lake Geneva in the Alps. For a short time it seemed as if “every mountain peak had found a tongue,” but the storm died away without crossing the lake.
We may as well admit that we failed to carry out our resolution to see sunrise on the lake, for we did not waken until the sun was shining broadly into our window, to which we hastened for a first impression of Tahoe by daylight. We beheld a smooth, steel-blue sheet of water with a sharply defined mountain range in the distance—no suggestion of the color miracle we had heard so much about; we learned that you must see Tahoe from many viewpoints and at many periods of the day to know a few of the myriad phases of its beauty.
Tahoe Tavern, a huge, brown, rambling37 building in a fine grove14 of pines, fronts directly on a little bay and commands a glorious outlook of lake and distant mountains. It is a delightfully114 retired115 and quiet place, ideal for rest and recuperation, while the surrounding country is unmatched in scenic116 attractions for those inclined to exploration, whether by steamer, motor, on horseback, or afoot. We found the service and the cuisine117 equal to the best resort hotels in California—and that is saying a great deal, since California in this particular leads the world. The Tavern’s popularity is evidenced by the fact that the main building, capable of accommodating several hundred guests, has been supplemented by the large annex and even then in season it is well to engage rooms in advance of arrival. Here we found a quiet yet exhilarating spot, the toil118 and tumult119 of the busy world shut out by impregnable mountain barriers, where one may repose120 and commune with nature in her grandest and most enchanting121 aspects.
After making the acquaintance of the friendly chipmunks122 about the inn—which have so far overcome their natural timidity as to take morsels123 from your fingers or even to rifle your pockets in search of peanuts—and laughing at the antics of the blue jays, almost as fearless, we decided124 to board the excursion steamer, which makes a daily round of the lake. Once out from38 the shore and well started on our southward journey, we began to realize something of the wonderful colorings that no one who has seen Tahoe can ever forget. About us the water was of the deepest, clearest, ultra-marine blue, shading by many gradations into emerald green near the shores. The colors were more intense than we had ever seen before in any body of water and cannot be entirely125 due to great depth, for though the bottom of Tahoe in places is nearly two thousand feet below the surface, the hue126 is deeper than that of the ocean. It is more like liquid, transparent127 lapis-lazuli, if we may imagine such a thing, than anything else I can think of. No doubt the depth of the water and the deep azure128 of the skies are the chief elements in producing this glorious effect. Yet, for all its blueness, we could see the bottom of the lake as we steamed along—indeed, they told us that only in the deepest places is the bottom invisible on clear, still days.
We followed the coast at a little distance, stopping at the different stations, chiefly camps and resorts of various degrees. Most of these are along the west side of the lake between Tahoe and Tallac, and scattered129 between them are many summer villas130, chiefly of San Francisco people. This part of the shore is the most picturesque, being well wooded, while much of the39 eastern side is lined with barren and rocky mountains. At Rubicon Point, mighty cliffs rise high above the lake and their sheer walls extend far beneath the water that laves their base. Here is the deepest, bluest water that we cross, and they tell us one of the best fishing spots. Passing from the ultramarine deeps of the Rubicon Point, we round a sharply jutting132 promontory133 and glide134 into the jade-green waters of Emerald Bay, a long, oval-shaped inlet at the southern end of the lake. Surely, it is rightly named, for here green predominates, from the steep sides of the encircling hills to the very center of the shallow bay. At the upper end of the bay, rising almost sheer from the green water, is a rocky, scantily-wooded island where for many years an eccentric Englishman made his home. Nearly opposite on the shore is Emerald Bay Camp, perhaps the most popular of the many permanent camps around the lake. At Tallac the steamer stops for an hour to give opportunity for luncheon135 at the huge wooden hotel built many years ago by the late “Lucky” Baldwin. It stands in a grove of splendid pines and on a site in some ways superior to that of the tavern. Certainly the surrounding country is more picturesque and has more to interest the tourist. Just over the hills is the beautiful Fallen Leaf Lake and there are several other jewel-like tarns set in the hills a40 little to the west, while Cascade136 Lake and Emerald Bay are within walking distance. During luncheon one of our party expressed disappointment that the coloring of the lake hardly measured up to expectations formed from the enthusiastic descriptions of guidebooks and railroad literature.
“You can never see the color beauties of a lake at their best from a boat,” I declared. “We once had the opportunity of making the Great Glen trip by steamer and a year later of following these splendid Scotch137 lakes with our car; the effects of color and light which we saw on the latter trip were indescribably the more glorious.”
“Then let’s abandon the boat and hire a car for the return trip to the Tavern,”—a proposition to which all agreed. The car, a good one, was easily secured and we were soon away on what has been described as the most beautiful twenty-five mile drive in the world—a true claim so far as we know; the Columbia River Boulevard or Crater138 Lake road may rival it for scenic beauty, though these are perhaps too different for fair comparison.
The day was perfect, crystal clear except for a few white clouds drifting lazily across the sky or resting on the summits of the mountains beyond the lake; a day which our driver, an agreeable and intelligent young fellow, declared41 ideal for seeing Tahoe at its best. For a few miles out of Tallac we ran through a pine forest, catching139 fugitive140 glimpses of the blue water through the stately trunks. As we ascended141 the ridge25 overlooking Emerald Bay, exclamations142 of delight were frequent and enthusiastic as the magnificent panorama gradually unfolded to our view. The climax143 was reached when our driver paused at the summit of the ridge, where the whole of Tahoe spread out before us. Just beneath on one hand lay Emerald Bay; on the other gleamed Cascade Lake—a perfect gem144 in glorious setting of rock and tree. And the glory of color that greeted our eyes! Exaggerated in descriptions? No mortal language ever conveyed a tithe145 of its iridescent146 beauty and never will. One of the ladies exclaimed, “It is like a great black opal,” and knowing her passion for that gem, we recognized the sincerity147 of her tribute. And, indeed, the comparison was not inapt. There were the elusive148, changeful greens and blues131, the dark purples, and the strange, uncertain play of light and color that characterizes that mysterious gem. Near the shore line the greens predominated, reaching the deepest intensity149 in Emerald Bay, just below. Passing through many variations of color, the greens merged150 into the deep blues and farther out in the lake purple hues151 seemed to prevail. Along the opposite shore42 ran the rugged mountain range, the summits touched by cloud-masses which held forth the slightest threat of a summer shower—and, indeed, it came just before we reached the tavern. Overhead the sky was of the deepest azure and clear save for a few tiny white clouds mirrored in the gloriously tinted152 water. Altogether, the scene was a combination of transcendent color with a setting of rugged yet beautiful country that we have never seen equalled elsewhere and which we have no words to fittingly describe. Even the master artist fails here, since he can but express one mood of the lake—while it has a thousand every day. We have seen the Scotch, Italian and English lakes; we sailed the length of George and Champlain; we admired the mountain glories of Yellowstone Lake; we viewed Klamath and Crater Lakes from mountain heights, but none of them matched the wonderful color variations of Tahoe.
But we are on our way again, descending154 and climbing long grades which pass through pine forests and come out on headlands from which we gain new and entrancing views of lake and mountains. The road was completed only recently, but it is good in the main, though there are steep pitches and some rough and dusty stretches. At times it takes us out of sight of the lake, but we are compensated156 by wild and43 rugged scenery—towering crags and massive walls of gray stone—rising above us on every hand. The road must have presented considerable engineering difficulties; our driver points out a place where a mighty rock of a thousand tons or more was blasted to fragments to clear the way. Far above us on the mountain crests157 we see gleaming patches of snow which the late summer sun has not been able to dispel158. We cross clear mountain streams and wind through groves of pine and spruce. Often as we climb or descend153 the long grades we come upon new vistas of the lake and mountains and occasionally we ask for a moment’s delay to admire some especially beautiful scene. Then we descend almost to the level of the water, which we see flashing through stately trunks or rippling159 upon clear, pebbly160 beaches. We pass various resorts, each surrounded by pines and commanding a beautiful view of the lake. As we approach the Tavern the summer shower that has been threatening begins and to the color glories of sky and lake are added the diamond-like brilliance162 of the big drops, for the sun is unobscured by the clouds. Beyond a stretch of smooth water, dimmed to dull silver by the blue-gray vapor163 hanging over it, a rainbow hovers164 in front of the dim outlines of the distant hills. It was a fitting44 climax to the most inspiring drive in the many thousands of miles covered by our wanderings.
We spent the remainder of the afternoon and the evening about the Tavern. Especially we admired the casino with its arcade165 fronting directly on the lake; here amusements of every description tempt42 the guest who finds time heavy on his hands, but we found more enjoyment166 in the beautiful scenes from the wide arches. Near by we found a photograph shop in charge of our friend, Valentine of Los Angeles, some of whose splendid pictures adorn167 this book. He had come to Tahoe before the roads were clear and told us of some desperate work in getting through, spending the night in his car while stuck in a snowdrift.
Circumstances made it impracticable that we remain longer at the Tavern and we left the next morning for Sacramento with the mental resolution that we would come again at our earliest opportunity. That opportunity came a little more than a year later. We again found ourselves in Sacramento on the beginning of the northern tour covered by this book. We had discarded our trouble-making hired car for our own machine, long, low, and heavy, so solidly built that not a single part gave way under the terribly severe conditions of the tour.
Out of Sacramento we followed the new45 state highway, then almost completed to Placerville. On the way to Folsom we saw much of gold mining under modern conditions. Monstrous168 floating steam dredges were eating their way through the fields and for miles had thrown up great ridges26 of stones and gravel169 from which the gold had been extracted by a process of washing. Something less than two million dollars annually is produced in Sacramento County, mainly by this process, and the cobblestones, after being crushed by powerful machinery170, serve the very useful purpose of road-building. Beyond Folsom the highway winds through uninteresting hills covered with short brown grass and diversified171 with occasional oak trees. We kept a pretty steady upward trend as we sped toward the blue hill ranges, but there were no grades worth mentioning west of Placerville. Before we reached the town we entered the splendid pine forest which continues all the way to Tahoe.
Placerville has little to recall its old-time sobriquet172 of Hangtown, the name by which it figures in Bret Harte’s stories. Here, indeed, was the very storm center of the early gold furor—but five miles to the north is Coloma, where Marshall picked up the nugget that turned the eyes of the world to California in ’49. Over the very road which we were to pursue out of the town poured the living tide of gold seekers which46 spread out through all the surrounding country. To-day, however, Placerville depends little on mining; its narrow, crooked main street and a few ancient buildings are the only reminders of its old-time rough-and-tumble existence. It is a prosperous town of three thousand people and handsome homes, with well-kept lawns, are not uncommon. We also noted173 a splendid new courthouse of Spanish colonial design wrought174 in white marble, a fine example of the public spirit that prevails in even the more retired California communities. The site of the town is its greatest drawback. Wedged as it is in the bottom of a vast canyon, there is little possibility of regularity175 in streets and much work has been necessary to prepare sites for homes and public buildings. A certain picturesqueness176 and delightful113 informality compensates177 for all this and the visitor is sure to be pleased with the Placerville of to-day aside from its romantic history. Two fairly comfortable hotels invite the traveler to stop and make more intimate acquaintance with the town, which a recent writer declares is noted for its charming women—an attraction which it lacked in its romantic mining days.
Beyond Placerville the road climbs steadily, winding through the giant hills and finally crossing the American River, which we followed for many miles—now far above with the green47 stream gleaming through the pines and again coursing along its very banks. There are many deciduous178 trees among the evergreens179 on these hills and the autumn coloring lent a striking variation to the somber180 green of the pines. We had never before realized that there were so many species besides conifers on the California mountains. Maples181 and aspens were turning yellow and crimson182 and many species of vines and creepers lent brilliant color dashes to the scene. There was much indeed to compensate155 for the absence of the flowers which bloom in profusion183 earlier in the season. We passed several comfortable-looking inns and resorts whose names—Sportsman’s Hall, for instance—indicated retreats for hunters and fishermen.
Georgetown, some forty miles above Placerville, is the only town worthy184 of the name between the latter place and Tahoe. Beyond here we began the final ascent to the summit of the divide over a road that winds upwards185 in long loops with grades as high as twenty-five per cent. There were many fine vistas of hill and valley, rich in autumn colorings that brightened the green of the pines and blended into the pale lavender haze that shrouded the distant hills. From the summit, at an altitude of seventy-four hundred feet, we had a vast panorama of lake, forest, and mountain—but I might be accused of48 monotonous186 repetition were I to endeavor to describe even a few of the scenes that enchanted187 us. Every hilltop, every bend in the road, and every opening through the forests that lined our way presented views which, taken alone, might well delight the beholder188 for hours—only their frequent recurrence189 tended to make them almost commonplace to us.
CAVE ROCK, LAKE TAHOE
From photo by Putnam & Valentine, Los Angeles, Cal.
The descent to the lake is somewhat steeper than the western slope, but the road is wide with broad turns and we had no trouble in passing a big yellow car that was rushing the grade with wide-open “cut-out” in a crazy endeavor to get as far as possible on “high.” Coming down to Myers, a little supply station at the foot of the grade, we learned that the Tavern and many other resorts were already closed and decided to pass the night at Glenbrook, about midway on the eastern shore of the lake. For a dozen miles after leaving Myers, our road ran alternately through forests and green meadows—the meadows about Tahoe remain green the summer through—finally coming to the lake shore, which we followed closely for the twenty miles to Glenbrook. Most of the way the road runs only a few feet above the water level and we had many glorious vistas differing from anything we had yet seen. In the low afternoon sun the color had largely vanished and we saw only a sheet of49 gleaming silver edged with clearest crystal, which made the pebbly bottom plainly visible for some distance from the shore. Here an emerald meadow with sleek-looking cattle—there are many cattle in the Tahoe region—lay between us and the shining water; again it gleamed through the trunks of stately pines. For a little while it was lost to view as we turned into the forest which crowded closely to the roadside, only to come back in a moment to a new view—each one different and seemingly more entrancing than the last, culminating in the wonderful spectacle from Cave Rock. This is a bold promontory, pierced beneath by the caves that give its name, rising perhaps one hundred feet above the water and affording a view of almost the entire lake and the encircling mountains. On the western side the mountains throw their serrated peaks against the sky, while to the far north they showed dimly through a thin blue haze. The lake seemed like a great sapphire190 shot with gold from the declining sun—altogether a different aspect in color, light and shadow from anything we had witnessed before. We paused awhile to admire the scene along with several other wayfarers—pedestrians, cyclists, and motorists who were alike attracted by the glorious spectacle.
Two or three miles farther brought us to Glenbrook, a quiet nook at the foot of mighty50 hills, pine-clad to the very summits. The hotel is a large but unpretentious structure directly by the roadside and fronting on the lake. In connection with the inn is a group of rustic191 cottages, one of which was assigned to us. It had a new bathroom adjoining and there was a little sheet-iron stove with fuel all laid for a fire—which almost proved a “life-saver” in the sharp, frosty air of the following morning. The cottage stood directly on the lake shore and afforded a magnificent view of the sunset, which I wish I were able to adequately describe. A sea of fire glowed before us as the sun went down behind the mountains, which were dimmed by the twilight192 shadows. Soon the shadows gave place to a thin amethyst193 haze which brought out sharply against the western sky the contour of every peak and pinnacle194. The amethyst deepened to purple, followed by a crimson afterglow which, with momentary195 color variations, continued for nearly an hour; then the light gradually faded from the sky and the lake took on an almost ebony hue—a dark, splendid mirror for the starlit heavens.
The excellent dinner menu of the inn was a surprise; we hardly expected it in such a remote place. They told us that the inn maintains its own gardens and dairy, and the steamer brings supplies daily. The inn keeps open only during the season, which usually extends from May to51 October, but there is some one in charge the year round and no one who comes seeking accommodations is ever turned away. Though completely isolated196 by deep snows from all land communication, the steamer never fails, since the lake does not freeze, even in the periods of below-zero weather. We found the big lounging room, with its huge chimney and crackling log fire, a very comfortable and cheery place to pass the evening and could easily see how anyone seeking rest and quiet might elect to sojourn many days at Glenbrook. But Glenbrook was not always so delightfully quiet and rural. Years ago, back in the early eighties, it was a good-sized town with a huge saw mill that converted much of the forest about the lake into lumber197. There are still hundreds of old piles that once supported the wharves198, projecting out of the water of the little bay in front of the hotel—detracting much from the beauty of the scene.
We were astir in the morning, wondering what the aspect of our changeful lake might be in the dawning light; and sure enough, the change was there—a cold, steel blue sheet of water, rippling into silver in places. Near the shore all was quiet, not a wave lapping the beach as on the previous night. The mountains beyond the lake were silhouetted199 with startling distinctness against a silvery sky, and on many of the52 summits were flecks200 of snow that had outlasted201 the summer.
We had thought to go on to Reno by the way of Carson City, but we could not bring ourselves to leave the lake and so we decided to go by way of Truckee, even though we had previously202 covered the road. It proved a fortunate decision, for we saw another shifting of the wonderful Tahoe scenery—the morning coloring was different from that of the afternoon and evening. We had the good fortune to pick up an old inhabitant of Tahoe City whose car had broken down on one of the heavy grades and who told us much about the lake and the country around it. He had lived near Tahoe for more than thirty-five years and could remember the days of the prospectors203 and saw mills. Nearly all the timber about the lake is of new growth since the lumbering204 days. This accounts for the absence of large trees except in a few spots which escaped the lumberman’s ax. Yellow pines, firs, and cedars205 prevail, with occasional sugar pines and some deciduous varieties. It is, indeed, a pity that Tahoe and the surrounding hills were not set aside as a national park before so much of the country had passed into private hands.
A fairly good road has been constructed for nearly three quarters of the distance around the lake and a very indifferent wagon road from53 Tahoe City to Glenbrook completes the circuit. The latter we did not cover, being assured that it was very difficult if not impassable for motors. Plans are under way for a new road around the northern end of the lake, which will enable the motorist to encircle this wonderful body of water—a trip of about eighty miles—and will afford endless viewpoints covering scenes of unparalleled beauty. The whole of the road about the lake ought to be improved—widened and surfaced and some of the steeper grades and more dangerous turns eliminated. It might then be the “boulevard” that one enthusiastic writer characterizes it, even in its present condition, but in our own humble206 opinion it has a long way to go before it deserves such a title.
At the Tavern we reluctantly turned away from the lake—it seemed to us as if we could never weary of its changeful beauty—and for the next dozen miles we followed the course of the Truckee River, at no time being more than a few rods distant from it. It is a clear, swift stream with greenish color tones and was still of fair size, though at its lowest ebb161. Our road at times ran directly alongside within a few feet of its banks; again a sharp pitch carried us some distance above it and afforded fine views of valley and river. None of the grades were long, but one or two are steep, exceeding twenty per cent.54 The railroad, a flimsy, narrow-gauge affair, closely parallels the river and wagon road, but it is kept running the year round and keeps the scanty207 winter population about Tahoe in touch with the world.
Truckee is a typical wild western village with rather more than its share of saloons. These are well patronized, for there is a large working population in and about the town. It is a railroad division; a saw mill near by employs eight hundred men and a large paper pulp208 factory nearly as many. All of which contribute to make it a lively place and its Chamber209 of Commerce has organized a winter Ice Carnival210 for the purpose of giving those Californians who live on the coast and in the great central valleys an opportunity of seeing what real winter is like and enjoying its sports. The carnival opens on Christmas Day and continues until the middle of March. A huge ice palace is devoted211 to skating and dancing, while tobogganing, skiing and sleighing are the outdoor amusements. They told us that so far the festival has proven a great success, attracting people from every part of the state.
Out of Truckee we ran for fifteen or twenty miles through a barren sagebrush country with only an occasional tumble-down abandoned ranch house to break the monotony of the scene. The55 road was fine, but it took a sudden turn for the worse when we entered the straggling yellow pine forest that covers the hill range between Truckee and Reno. It was rough and stony212 in spots and we climbed steadily for several miles. We saw some pretty scenery, however, for the mighty forest rose to the very summits of the rugged hills above us and followed the dark canyon below downward to the river’s edge. Beyond the summit we began the descent of Dog Canyon—whence its poetical213 designation we did not learn—the longest and steepest straight grade we encountered in several thousand miles of mountaineering. For seven miles or more it drops down the side of the canyon without a single turn, the grades ranging from six to twenty per cent, deep with dust and very rough in places, a trying descent on brakes and driver. We met a few cars scrambling214 wearily up with steaming radiators215 and growling216 gears, but what more excited our sympathies were several canvas-covered wagons drawn97 by reeking217 horses that seemed ready to drop in their tracks from exhaustion218. At the foot of the grade just beyond the Nevada line, we came into the village of Verdi, directly on the river and evidently the destination of many of the pine logs we had seen along our road, for here was a large saw mill. Beyond Verdi we followed the Truckee, bordered by56 emerald green alfalfa fields just being mown. The yield was immense, indicating a rich, well-watered soil, but in the main the ranch houses were small and poor, with squalid surroundings. Nearer Reno, however, we noted some improvement and occasionally we passed a neat and prosperous-looking ranch house. Coming into the town we sought the Riverside Hotel, which is rightly named, for it stands directly on the banks of the Truckee. We had difficulty in getting satisfactory accommodations—court was in session and it was opening day of the races, with a consequent influx219 of litigants220 and sports. We learned later that Reno is always a busy town and advance hotel arrangements should not be neglected by prospective guests.
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1
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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miscarriage
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| n.失败，未达到预期的结果；流产 | |
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dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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seaport
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| n.海港，港口，港市 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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8
aggregate
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| adj.总计的，集合的；n.总数；v.合计；集合 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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ripen
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| vt.使成熟；vi.成熟 | |
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orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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18
prune
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| n.酶干；vt.修剪，砍掉，削减；vi.删除 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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bowling
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| n.保龄球运动 | |
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marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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authorized
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| a.委任的，许可的 | |
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emigrant
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| adj.移居的，移民的；n.移居外国的人，移民 | |
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emigrants
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| n.（从本国移往他国的）移民( emigrant的名词复数 ) | |
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34
outfitting
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| v.装备，配置设备，供给服装( outfit的现在分词 ) | |
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35
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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39
ferment
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| vt.使发酵；n./vt.（使）激动，（使）动乱 | |
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ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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41
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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42
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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43
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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44
dime
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| n.（指美国、加拿大的钱币）一角 | |
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45
luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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46
bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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47
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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48
mitigate
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| vt.（使）减轻，（使）缓和 | |
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49
divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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50
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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51
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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52
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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53
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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54
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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55
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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56
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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57
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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58
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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59
dissuading
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| 劝（某人）勿做某事，劝阻( dissuade的现在分词 ) | |
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60
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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61
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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62
vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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63
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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64
jaunt
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| v.短程旅游；n.游览 | |
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65
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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66
panorama
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| n.全景，全景画，全景摄影，全景照片[装置] | |
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67
canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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68
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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69
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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70
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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71
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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72
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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73
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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74
vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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75
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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76
cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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77
reminders
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| n.令人回忆起…的东西( reminder的名词复数 )；提醒…的东西；（告知该做某事的）通知单；提示信 | |
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78
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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79
advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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80
renown
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| n.声誉，名望 | |
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81
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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82
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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83
culminates
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| v.达到极点( culminate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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84
gash
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| v.深切，划开；n.(深长的)切(伤)口；裂缝 | |
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85
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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86
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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87
tarns
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| n.冰斗湖，山中小湖( tarn的名词复数 ) | |
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88
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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89
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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90
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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91
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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92
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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93
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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94
appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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95
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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96
discomforts
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| n.不舒适( discomfort的名词复数 )；不愉快，苦恼 | |
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97
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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98
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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99
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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100
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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101
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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102
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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103
limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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104
myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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105
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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106
inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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107
annex
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| vt.兼并，吞并；n.附属建筑物 | |
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108
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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109
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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110
transmuting
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| v.使变形，使变质，把…变成…( transmute的现在分词 ) | |
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111
weirdly
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| 古怪地 | |
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112
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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113
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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114
delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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115
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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116
scenic
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| adj.自然景色的，景色优美的 | |
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117
cuisine
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| n.烹调，烹饪法 | |
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118
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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119
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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120
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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121
enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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122
chipmunks
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| n.金花鼠( chipmunk的名词复数 ) | |
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123
morsels
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| n.一口( morsel的名词复数 )；（尤指食物）小块，碎屑 | |
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124
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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125
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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126
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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127
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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128
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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129
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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130
villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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131
blues
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| n.抑郁，沮丧；布鲁斯音乐 | |
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132
jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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133
promontory
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| n.海角；岬 | |
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134
glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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135
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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136
cascade
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| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
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137
scotch
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|
| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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138
crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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139
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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140
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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141
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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142
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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143
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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144
gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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145
tithe
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| n.十分之一税；v.课什一税，缴什一税 | |
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146
iridescent
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| adj.彩虹色的，闪色的 | |
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147
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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148
elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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149
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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150
merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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151
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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152
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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153
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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154
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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155
compensate
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| vt.补偿，赔偿；酬报 vi.弥补；补偿；抵消 | |
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156
compensated
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| 补偿，报酬( compensate的过去式和过去分词 )； 给（某人）赔偿（或赔款） | |
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157
crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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158
dispel
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| vt.驱走，驱散，消除 | |
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159
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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160
pebbly
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| 多卵石的，有卵石花纹的 | |
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161
ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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162
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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163
vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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164
hovers
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| 鸟( hover的第三人称单数 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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165
arcade
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| n.拱廊；(一侧或两侧有商店的)通道 | |
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166
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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167
adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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168
monstrous
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|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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169
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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170
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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171
diversified
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|
| adj.多样化的，多种经营的v.使多样化，多样化( diversify的过去式和过去分词 )；进入新的商业领域 | |
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172
sobriquet
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| n.绰号 | |
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173
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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174
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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175
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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176
picturesqueness
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177
compensates
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| 补偿，报酬( compensate的第三人称单数 )； 给（某人）赔偿（或赔款） | |
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178
deciduous
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| adj.非永久的；短暂的；脱落的；落叶的 | |
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179
evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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180
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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181
maples
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| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
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182
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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183
profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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184
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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185
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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186
monotonous
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|
| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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187
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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188
beholder
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| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
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189
recurrence
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| n.复发，反复，重现 | |
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190
sapphire
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| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
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191
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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192
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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193
amethyst
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| n.紫水晶 | |
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194
pinnacle
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| n.尖塔，尖顶，山峰；(喻)顶峰 | |
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195
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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196
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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197
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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198
wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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199
silhouetted
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| 显出轮廓的，显示影像的 | |
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200
flecks
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| n.斑点，小点( fleck的名词复数 )；癍 | |
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201
outlasted
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| v.比…长久，比…活得长( outlast的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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202
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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203
prospectors
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| n.勘探者，探矿者( prospector的名词复数 ) | |
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204
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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205
cedars
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| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
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206
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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207
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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208
pulp
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| n.果肉，纸浆；v.化成纸浆，除去...果肉，制成纸浆 | |
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209
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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210
carnival
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| n.嘉年华会，狂欢，狂欢节，巡回表演 | |
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211
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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212
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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213
poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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214
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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215
radiators
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| n.（暖气设备的）散热器( radiator的名词复数 )；汽车引擎的冷却器，散热器 | |
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216
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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217
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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218
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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219
influx
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| n.流入，注入 | |
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litigants
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| n.诉讼当事人( litigant的名词复数 ) | |
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