Edmond Jeffery arrived in Malibou Lake with 25 feet of scaffolding and a secret atomic process for making rain.

Two years of drought had kept the lake bone-dry. The people of this small town in the Santa Monica Mountains were tired of staring at dust, at boat docks standing naked as skeletons. Nature had robbed them of their watery jewel.They paid Jeffery $250, plus room and board, to make things right.

The bearded ex-pilot proclaimed: "It'll rain in seven days."

That was 1961.

These days, the lake runs high and no one thinks about Jeffery. He is a blip in the town's folklore. But the tale of this rainmaker, both quaint and eccentric, tells something of Malibou Lake. In many ways, nothing has changed since.

The same road, two lanes crumbling at the edges, winds into town. Not so much as a gas station or convenience store marks the way. Chaparral and live oak still dominate the hillsides, with houses clustered near the water.

That's the peculiarity of this place. No crime. No sidewalks. Seven miles from the Ventura Freeway, not far from Agoura's huddled tracts, Malibou Lake clings to the past.

This is a community of several hundred writers, actors, retired folks and business executives. Many of them work in the city and commute an hour or so home. Mountains encircle their small, rugged valley. No road signs mark the turnoff from the main road.

So, over the years, only tidbits of urban madness have found their way here. Odd happenings and strange visitors. People like Edmond Jeffery. His story--along with the story of this town--begins at the beginning.

Billions of years ago, soupy prehistoric seas nurtured organic compounds that, in turn, formed the first living cell. This mix eventually produced humans.

Malibou Lake evolved much the same way.

In 1923, state workers built a 44-foot-high dam across converging creeks, the Medea and the Triunfo. A body of water was born. In Southern California, a lake means one thing: lakefront property.

At first, construction was limited to vacation cabins. Clark Gable and Carole Lombard sought respite here in the '30s and '40s. W.C. Fields visited often. A private clubhouse was erected, offering such diversions as boating, fishing and target-shooting.

Malibou Lake continued as a celebrity resort for many years. But as postwar Los Angeles filled valleys and spilled over hills, covering more and more of the land, some people got the idea of staying year-round. Real estate prices had remained relatively cheap: $5,000 bought a hillside lot as late as 1960.