138 BOOK OF A HUNDRED BEARS 



is magnificent, perhaps unapproached. On the 

 south is Mt. Sheridan and his brothers, lofty, 

 snow-capped peaks. Over there are the great 

 breasts of the Three Tetons, on the east the 

 ^^Sleeping Lion/' and all about it vast ranges, 

 fold on fold, rising one above the other to the very 

 sky itself. 



I do not know of any mountain view that com- 

 pares with that from the terrace of the Lake 

 Hotel, when the air is just right. Certainly noth- 

 ing in Switzerland, and nothing else in the Rockies, 

 or Sierras, is like it. Perhaps, hidden away in 

 the Andes, there may be lakes and views like this, 

 but not elsewhere. 



The lake lies in shape like the human hand; 

 the thumb is one of its bays, where we found an 

 eating station, and whence you may go on, by 

 road, past the wonderful Natural Bridge, to the 

 Lake Hotel; or you may take ship and cross the 

 lake, an easier and pleasanter trip. We chose the 

 latter. Here an excursion crowd overtook us and, 

 for the first and only time in the Park, we were over- 

 crowded. Two launches await the tourist here for 



