Chapter Fifteen

WHERE HAS NATURE SPREAD THE FOREST?

Our forefathers who came across the water to America found forests stretching away from the water's edge into an unknown wilderness. The settlements spread very slowly into the pathless woods, for there lurked danger from the Indians and wild animals. The Allegheny Mountains also held the settlers back for a long time.

The pioneers found the country, as far as the Ohio River and beyond, still forest covered; but by and by openings or prairies began to appear. By the time they had crossed the Great River the forests had been left behind, except for fringes of trees upon the lowlands along the streams.

From this point westward the open prairies stretched away to the horizon. Antelope, deer, and buffalo were often seen feeding on the rich grasses. The adventurous pioneers pushed on across the fertile prairies, coming at last to a drier and higher region which we have called the Great Plains. On these plains the Rocky Mountains came in sight. These mountains gradually became higher as the travelers approached, until they rose before them like a mighty wall. Here they again met vast forests, which covered all the higher slopes.

Beyond the Rocky Mountains they crossed a broad land of deserts where little rain fell. The vegetation was so scanty and springs so far apart that many of their horses and cattle died. The dreary and barren deserts were followed by another lofty range of mountains. Entering these mountains, the pioneers came upon the most magnificent forest that had yet been seen upon our continent. After traveling for some days over rugged mountains, they at last emerged from the forests upon the Great Valley of California.

Scattered over portions of the valley were oak trees, giving it the appearance of a park. When the valley had been passed the pioneers climbed the last mountain range, and from this range looked down upon the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Here they found forests again, some of the trees being of enormous size. Thus we see that the eastern part of the continent was nearly all forested, but that in the West the forests grew chiefly on the mountains, because there is not enough rainfall upon the plains and in the valleys.

The trees that make up most of the forests of our country are of two very different kinds. There is one kind that has narrow or needle-like leaves which they keep through the winter. These we commonly call narrow-leaved trees or conifers. The most important of the narrow-leaved trees are the pines, firs, spruces, and hemlock. Such trees form the forests of the greater part of the highlands of the northern and northeastern parts of our country. The pines also find a congenial home upon the lowlands of the Southern states. Trees of the second kind have broad leaves, and usually their wood is rather hard. Hence we call them broad-leaved or hardwood trees. Since most of these trees drop their leaves in winter, we often speak of them as deciduous trees. By far the larger part of the lands of the Eastern states that are now cultivated were found by the first settlers to be covered with hardwood trees. We are familiar with many of the hardwoods through their use in furniture and various household utensils and farm implements. The most important varieties are the walnut, hickory, chestnut, beech, maple, ash, oak, elm, locust, and linden.

There are not many broad-leaved trees in the forests of the West. The children of the West miss all the nut trees that the boys and girls of the East enjoy. But to make up for this lack there are some in the West that are not found in the East. The sugar pine, the piñon pine, and the digger pine afford delicious nuts which once formed an important article of food for the Indians. In the West the broad-leaved trees do not form dense forests. They are scattered among the pines on the lower mountain slopes, in the valleys, and along the streams. The most important of these trees are oaks of many kinds, soft maple, alder, cottonwood, sycamore, and laurel.

The dense forests of the Western mountains consist almost wholly of narrow-leaved trees. Among them are the pines and firs of different kinds, spruce, cedar, redwood, and "big trees." The redwoods and "big trees" are both known as sequoias; they grow to an immense size upon the mountains of California. The coniferous forests of which these trees form a part are among the most wonderful and interesting ones on the earth.

If you will take a forest map of our country and place it beside a rainfall map, you will quickly discover why the forests are found where they are. You will see that the forests are found where there is more than thirty inches of rain each year, except in the far North, where it is very cold. You can say, then, that the climate is the chief thing that determines where the forests shall grow.

If the climate is warm and the rainfall heavy, the forest vegetation is so dense and rank that you can hardly travel through it. Such forests are found in the tropical parts of the country. Where little rain falls there is scanty vegetation, as upon the deserts of the Southwest. But where it is very cold, even if there is much snow or rain, you will find no trees.

We must not forget that there is another thing that affects the growth of trees, and that is the soil. Pines like a sandy soil, while most other trees do not. Certain cedars and cypresses like swampy places where no other trees will grow. Many beautiful meadows and prairies have no trees, because the soil is not well drained.

It is very easy to understand why trees cannot grow where it is dry, but how shall we learn of the effect of cold upon them? Shall we have to take a journey of thousands of miles into the far North, until we finally come to the land called the Barren Lands or tundras, where the trees become stunted and at last disappear--a land where they cannot longer fight against the cold and live?

Fortunately such a long journey is not necessary. All we have to do is to climb a great mountain range, like the Sierra Nevadas, to pass through all the different climates which we would experience on a long journey to the arctic regions.

It is only a few miles from the hot San Joaquin Valley, at the base of the Sierras, where it is so dry that irrigation is necessary, to the summit of the range, where the winter climate is as cold as it is in the arctic regions.

In going up the mountains we first come to the foothills, where there is a little more rain than in the valley. Here we find oak trees growing. Farther up there is still more rain and we come to the pines. Soon we reach the most wonderful coniferous forest in all the world. Here not only is there a great variety of trees, but because of the favorable climate they grow to a great size. As we approach the summit of the mountains the trees become smaller, and at an elevation of about two miles they shrink to the size of little bushes and finally disappear. They can no longer stand the fierce winds and cold storms of this arctic region.

We have learned now that the trees do not grow haphazard over our country, but that the rain, the temperature, and the soil determine where they can live.

Within the heart of the forest the trees will come again if we cut them down, but upon its borders, where the air is drier, it is more difficult for them to spring up anew. If we cut them down carelessly and allow fires to burn over the surface, and the water to wash away the soil, they may never come back.

It is important, then, that we understand why trees grow in some places and not in others, in order that we may know how to take care of them.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

WHAT ARE THE ENEMIES OF THE TREES?

Every living thing is engaged in a struggle for air to breathe and for something to eat. Those that make their homes on the land also have to struggle for water. The stronger rob the weaker; for, among all of them except man, might always makes right. Men are learning that unselfishness is the better way, although they do not always practice it.

In this struggle the animals have an advantage over the plants, for if food fails in one place they can move to another. Among the animals also the mother tries to protect her children; and, in the case of some,--the wolf, for example,--a number will hunt together for the common good.

It is quite different with the plants. They must grow where the seeds take root. If there is little sunlight or water or the soil is poor, they must make the best of what they have.

The plants have to struggle not only with such enemies as insects, winds, fire, and browsing animals, but with each other, for every tree is the real or possible enemy of every other tree. Brother seeds sprouting under the same parent maple struggle with each other for the food and moisture in the soil and for the best place in the sunlight. The one that gets the most of these will grow the faster and choke some of its weaker brothers.

In yonder grove of pines there are trees of all ages and sizes. The older ones have much the advantage and take a part of the food and sunlight that the smaller ones require. How the little ones stretch up and grow tall and slender in their attempt to get the sunlight! But in spite of all their efforts some of them must die.

Some kinds of trees grow faster than others. Where a number are springing up together, the slow-growing ones will stand less chance of ever becoming great trees. In this way the yellow pine sometimes chokes out the cedar, and the fir gets the advantage of the sugar pine.

The bright, warm sun is the enemy of the tree that loves the shady hillsides. The swamp is the enemy of the tree that must have loose, dry soil. The cold is the enemy of the tree that is used to a hot climate. Is it not strange that what is good for one tree is an enemy of another?

Many kinds of trees have their own particular insect enemies which attack them and no others. Some of these insects live upon the leaves, others eat the sapwood under the bark, while a few attack the roots. Certain insects burrow in and eat the heartwood. Although this does not always kill the tree, it weakens it and makes the wood unfit for use. The cedar and the hickory are among the trees injured in this manner.

The foliage of the broad-leaved trees is the delight of many insects. They sometimes eat the leaves so closely that the tree is killed; for the trees breathe through their leaves and can no more do without them than they can without their roots.

The gypsy moth, which did no great harm in its European home, was brought to this country and accidentally set free. It at once began to attack the leaves of the elm, that beautiful tree of the old New England villages. Now it is destroying other trees and, notwithstanding the fight which we have made against it, we have not yet been able to exterminate it.

The chestnut tree, which every Eastern child loves for its nuts, is now being destroyed by a fungus which may kill every one of these trees in the country.

The white-pine blister, also brought over from Europe, is now threatening all the white pines and the related trees of our country. This disease has already such a start in the East that we may not be able to stop it.

The dainty mistletoe, about which there are so many pretty Christmas legends, is a deadly enemy of many trees. The seed of this fungus is carried, by the birds or by the wind, from one tree to another. When it sprouts, tiny roots go down through the bark to the sap, on which it feeds until the tree is killed.

All our fruit trees have their deadly enemies which cause a loss of many millions of dollars every year. Among the worst of these is the San José scale, which was carelessly brought into the country from China.

The pear blight has destroyed whole orchards of pear trees in the Western states. The citrus canker is now threatening the orange orchards of the Southern states.

For years we have been searching over the world for new and better varieties of fruit trees. With the shipments of such trees we have brought some of the worst of the diseases that we have just mentioned. We should have all foreign trees most carefully inspected before admitting them to the country. We should also be very careful about shipping fruit or other trees from one part of our country to another. Diseases are often carried in this way into places which otherwise they could not reach.

Field mice, gophers, and rabbits eat the bark of young fruit trees and kill those which are not carefully protected. In some parts of our country the apple and peach tree borers are a serious menace to young orchards. Grasshoppers occasionally come in dense swarms and eat the leaves from every tree or plant in their path.

The valuable sugar pine of the Western mountains is not seeding itself as rapidly as it should, and we fear it will become extinct. The beautiful silver-gray squirrel loves the nuts of this pine, and it is said that he eats so many that few are left to sprout and make new trees. For this reason some people would like to make it lawful to kill all the gray squirrels that one wished. This would be too bad, for we do not believe the gray squirrel is the cause of the trouble. It is more likely that the lack of young sugar pines is due partly to its struggle in the forest with more rapidly growing trees and partly to the less frequent occurrence of forest fires to burn off the humus on the ground. We know that the seeds of certain trees find difficulty in sending their roots down through the humus to the soil beneath.

The narrow-leaved or cone-bearing trees, which are the main source of our lumber, also have other enemies. The most destructive of these are the little pine beetles which lay their eggs in the bark of the yellow pine, sugar pine, and tamarack pine. From these eggs there hatch worms which burrow under the bark until they cut off the flow of the sap. This kills the trees. The trees that are young and strong are sometimes able to pour out enough sap into the wounds to drown the insects, but many thousands of trees in the Western mountains are destroyed every year by these insects.

Wind and lightning are both enemies of the forests. Hundreds of forest fires are set every summer by thunder storms, but the rangers usually discover such fires soon enough to put them out before they have done much harm.

The pasturing of forests by stock does great injury, because of the browsing and trampling underfoot of the young trees. Sheep and goats are the worst of all the animals and should be kept out of those forests where the surface particularly needs protection and where the young trees require all the encouragement that Nature can give them in order to make a successful start in life.

We have learned something about the many enemies of the trees, but the worst one has not yet been mentioned. Can you guess what it is? This terrible enemy is man,--not savage man or Indian, but civilized man. Although man has more need for forest trees than has any other animal, he is at the same time more ruthless in his treatment of them. Man destroys more trees every year, as a result of fires which he sets and of his wasteful methods of lumbering, than all the other enemies of the trees put together.

The forest area of the world is constantly growing smaller, and we must soon learn to treat the trees with more care or they may, like many of the wild creatures, nearly disappear from parts of the earth where they are most needed.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

HOW THE FORESTS ARE WASTED

O forest home in which the songbirds dwell! The squirrel and the stag shall miss the spell Of thy cool depths when summer's sun assails, Nor more find shelter in thy shadowed vales.

* * * * *

All will be silent; echo will be dead; A field will lie where shifting shadows fled Across the ground. The mattock and the plow Will take the place of Pan and Satyr now. The timid deer, the spotted fawns at play, From thy retreats will all be driven away.

Farewell, old forest; sacred crowns, farewell! Revered in letters and in art as well; Thy place becomes the scorn of every one, Doomed now to burn beneath the summer sun. All cry out insults as they pass thee by, Upon the men who caused thee thus to die!

Farewell, old oaks that once were wont to crown Our deeds of valor and of great renown! O trees of Jupiter, Dordona's grove, How ingrate man repays thy treasure trove That first gave food that humankind might eat, And furnished shelter from the storm and heat.

PIERRE DE RONSARD, translated by BRISTOW ADAMS; American Forestry, XVI. 244

When our grandfathers came to America they found the country so covered with forests that they had to cut and burn the trees in order to obtain the ground on which to raise their crops. The Eastern states could not have been settled without clearing the land, and we cannot blame the pioneers for doing under those circumstances that which today would be very wrong.

There is now enough land so that it is no longer necessary to destroy the trees in order to raise our food supplies. The forests constitute one of the great natural resources of our country and men should not be allowed to waste them for private gain.

Although the need for more land has long passed, the habit of reckless tree cutting still continues. There are now parts of the East where none of the primeval forest remains and very little of the second growth. Firewood is expensive and many a farmer has to buy coal, who, if he and his ancestors had been careful, might have a woodlot to supply not only fuel, but lumber for his buildings.

Many of the lands once cleared were found not suited to farming and have been left to grow up to brush. If the farmer were wise he would replant some of these lands with such trees as spruce, hickory, walnut, or maple. Although his ancestors toiled early and late to get these trees out of the way, a few acres of them now would be a fortune.

There are parts of our country, particularly in the South and West, where the settlers are still cutting the trees to get them out of their way. In distant mountain valleys where there is no market for lumber, men are chopping down the great pines. They would make fine lumber, for they are tall and straight, but instead of being put to some useful end their fate is the bonfire. It makes no difference to these men that they are wasting what it has taken Nature hundreds of years to produce nor that in other parts of the country timber is scarce and expensive.

In Germany and Switzerland the forest resources are carefully looked after. As fast as the grown trees are cut from a field, young trees are planted in their places. The keeping of a certain part of the land in forest is held to be of advantage to all the people. For this reason men are not allowed to cut trees upon their own land without permission from the forest officer.

Many years ago, when lumbering became an important industry and the mills began to turn out immense quantities of boards and beams of every sort needed by the growing population of our new country, it was believed that the supply would never be used up. Only the best and clearest logs were sawed into lumber, and a large part of each tree was left on the ground to rot or to feed the first fire that occurred. Now lumber is scarce and expensive; and the poorer grades also are in much demand.

Have you ever seen the giant sugar pines on the slopes of the Western mountains? Next to the sequoias they are the largest of our American trees. A single tree has furnished lumber enough for a house. Sugar pine has now become so valuable that it is used only for such purposes as window sash, doors, and similar articles. We have taken no care of these wonderful trees until recently, but have allowed them to be cut and wasted in the most reckless fashion.

If you could go through the sugar-pine forests, you would find hundreds and even thousands of these mighty trees lying on the ground rotting. This is the work of the shake or shingle maker. He has been as thoughtless in his cutting of these giants which have been hundreds of years growing as is the farmer of the stalks of grain that springs up and ripens its seed in one season. The shingle maker must have material which splits well. He hunts for the straightest and cleanest trees. At most he does not use over fifty feet of the trunk, and if the tree does not split to suit him, then all, or nearly all, of the tree is left to rot.

The waste of the lumberman is not so great, but it is enough to open our eyes to one of the reasons for the rapid disappearance of our forests. On the average only about one third of the wood of every tree cut is actually used. The rest is lost in the logging operations and during the various processes through which it passes before it reaches our hands.

In addition to the waste of the trees actually cut, there is the loss of the young trees due to careless logging. Too often the lumbermen do not care in what condition the logs leave the forest. They want only the trees now fit for lumber, and they want to get them in the easiest way possible.

Instead of going through the forest and picking out only the ripe or mature trees and leaving the rest for a later cutting, the lumbermen usually take everything that has any present worth. Trees that are less valuable for lumber, such as the firs, are used for skidways and bridges, and when no longer needed for these purposes are left on the ground. No care is taken to see that the great trees fall with the least possible damage to the young growth. Upon the preservation of the young trees, which almost everywhere occupy the open spaces between the large ones, rests our hope of a future forest.

When the work of lumbering in any particular region is finished, the sight is such as must make Nature weep, for it almost brings tears to our eyes. The young trees are broken and crushed to the ground, branches and fragments of the trunks lie scattered about, while above the ruin rise those trees not considered worth cutting. The once beautiful and majestic forest is now ready for fire. Some passer-by may drop a lighted match or cigarette, and you can easily form a picture in your mind of what happens.

In the countries of Europe lumbermen are very careful; not a particle of the cut tree goes to waste. The logs are sawed without removing what we call "slabs." The sawdust is saved and used in the manufacture of wood alcohol. If we saved all the present waste in the logging and milling of our pines, we could make all the turpentine needed in our country. If we saved what is now wasted of the poplar and spruce, we should have material enough to make all the paper we use.

There are still large and valuable forests in the Southern Appalachian Mountains, in the Rocky Mountains, the Sierra Nevada-Cascade Range, and the Coast Ranges. These regions were settled later than the Eastern states, and parts of them are yet remote from markets.

Our wise lumbermen are beginning to understand that it is better to cut over the forest carefully, so that by and by there will be another crop. Nature is doing all she can to keep up the supply of trees, and, if we give her half a chance, there will be timber enough both for us and for those that come after us. The forest crop is like any other crop, except that it cannot be cut every year.

Every one should understand that he has an interest in the forest. Although he may not own a foot of land, yet his prosperity depends in part on how the forests are managed.

If the forests are not taken care of, there will sometime be a wood famine. If the mountain slopes are stripped of their trees, the streams will no longer run clear and the low streams in summer will lead to a water famine, which in turn might easily cause a bread famine.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

HOW THE FORESTS SUFFER FROM FIRES

He who wantonly kills a tree, All in a night of God-sent dream, He shall travel a desert waste Of pitiless glare, and never a stream, Nor a blade of grass, nor an inch of shade-- All in a wilderness he has made. O, forlorn without trees!

He who tenderly saves a tree, All in a night of God-sent dream, He shall list to a hermit thrush Deep in the forest by mountain stream, With friendly branches that lead and shade, All in a woodland that he has made. O, the peace of the trees!

He who passionately loves a tree, Growth and power shall understand; Everywhere he shall find a friend. Listen! They greet him from every land, English Oak and the Ash and Thorn, Silvery Olive, and Cypress tall, Spreading Willow, and gnarled old Pine, Flowering branches by orchard wall-- Sunshine, shadow, and sweetness of glade-- All in a Paradise he has made. O, the joy of the trees!

The Dryad's Message

Have you ever seen a forest fire? It is a terrible sight to see the flames sweep up a mountain side. They run along the ground licking up the leaves and dead branches. They leap from tree to tree, and then with a roar the sheet of flame goes to the top of a tall pine. The air is like the breath from an oven and is filled with sparks and with suffocating smoke. The birds and animals flee away in every direction.

It is no wonder that those whose homes are in the forest gather quickly to fight the fire, for if they cannot control it, they may lose everything that they possess. If there is a wind blowing, the fire will probably sweep over many miles of country. At night, though, when the air becomes cooler and more quiet, the men can get the advantage of it.

You can understand, of course, that it is impossible to use water against such a fire, for water is not to be had throughout most parts of the forests. Instead of using water, the men fight fire with fire. Taking shovels, hoes, and rakes to a suitable place some distance ahead of the fire, they rake away the dead litter on the ground, making a broad, clean path through the forest. Then they set "back-fires" along that side of this clean path which lies toward the coming fire. These back-fires burn slowly toward the main fire, and when they meet both must die out for lack of fuel.

For many years forest fires have caused as much damage as the lumbermen; but now most of the forests are patrolled by rangers during the summer, and there are fewer serious fires.

How do the fires start in the forest? It is supposed that long ago the Indians set many fires to keep the woods open for their hunting. Lightning has always been a frequent cause of forest fires. As many as a dozen fires are known to have started during a single thunderstorm. But such fires are not as serious as they once were, because the rangers are on the watch for them and put them out before they get well started.

Aside from those due to lightning, most forest fires are now either set purposely or come from engine sparks or from somebody's carelessness. Many fires are set purposely by stockmen who think by this means to clear away the brush and thus obtain better feed for their cattle and sheep. These men often care nothing for the forests or for the preservation of the summer water flow. They would, indeed, be pleased to see all the forests burned away if by that means they could increase their feed. If you could travel through some of the mountainous portions of the Southwest, you would see how much harm has been done in this way to the trees, the streams, and the soil.

It is a hot summer day and two men are riding along a mountain road. One of them thoughtlessly throws away a lighted cigarette, which falls upon some dry pine needles. In a few moments the pine needles are ablaze. The fire spreads with incredible rapidity and a great column of smoke rises above the treetops. Before any one can reach it, the fire is sweeping up the mountain side, and it may not be stopped before it has destroyed thousands of acres of valuable timber. All this terrible loss is due to one careless man who, in the first place, should not have been smoking cigarettes, and in the second place should have known better than to throw a spark into the forest powder magazine.

Some campers, enjoying the summer in the mountains, go away leaving their fire burning. By and by a stick burns outward until the fire reaches the leaves, or a gust of wind comes along and carries a spark to them. In the hot sun the leaves and needles are almost as easy to ignite as powder, and in a few moments another fire is making headway into the surrounding forest.

A farmer clearing land thinks he can get rid of the brush and young trees more easily by burning. But the undergrowth is drier than he thought, and, the wind coming up unexpectedly, the fire is soon beyond his control. It may destroy his own fences and buildings and, sweeping on, ruin those of his neighbors also.

Few people have perished from fires in the West, for there the forest regions are generally thinly inhabited, but in some of the Eastern and Northern states there have been terrible fires that have destroyed whole villages together with their inhabitants.

In many mountain regions of our country there are large areas now covered with useless brush where there were once valuable forests. In regions where the lumbermen have not utterly destroyed the forests, but have left some seed trees, the forests will come back again, but in these large burned areas conditions are not favorable. The destruction of the humus as well as the trees has been so complete that the seeding of a new forest is slow work. It may be hundreds of years before the trees will spread over and again take possession of the waste land.

A single fire often destroys more timber than would be destroyed by a whole camp of loggers working for years. In the Northwest there are many sad and desolate pictures of the destruction caused by forest fires. We may travel for miles through forests of tall, dead stubs, the remains of once noble trees. Where they have fallen the trunks lie piled many feet high and trails had to be cut through an almost solid mass of timber.

Here is wood enough to supply thousands of people with pleasant winter fires. But there are, alas, no people living near these vast woodpiles and often no road to them. The logs must lie there and rot.

Now let us see if we can state the chief reasons why we should be exceedingly careful about setting fires in the woods:

1. Fires destroy an enormous amount of valuable timber every year.

2. Between fires and lumbermen our forests are disappearing faster than they are growing.

3. Fires destroy the young trees, and if they happen often enough will keep them from growing up to replace the mature trees.

4. Fires do not permanently help the cattle ranges, but injure them by burning the humus and grass seeds.

5. Fires leave the ground bare, so that it will dry out quickly.

6. Fires leave the soil unprotected, so that it will wash away quickly.

7. Fires destroy property and endanger lives.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EVILS THAT FOLLOW THE DESTRUCTION OF THE FORESTS

We have already learned something about the poverty of the people in those lands where the forests have been destroyed. This poverty is due not so much to lack of wood for fuel and other purposes, but to a whole series of troubles which the removal of the forests has brought upon them.

The burning of the humus, when a fire sweeps the forest, is the next greatest loss to that of the timber itself. Where there has been no fire, the ground under the trees is covered with decaying leaves and stems which are slowly mixing with the soil and becoming a part of it. The more there is of this humus in the soil, the more thriftily plants will grow.

Many people purposely burn over their pasture lands in the fall, believing that this will make the grass better the following year. They should know that every time this is done the soil is made poorer, and that it kills the seeds lying on the ground ready to sprout when the warm spring days come. Instead of a better pasture there is more likely to be a crop of almost worthless weeds. The ground is full of worthless seeds which are always ready to take the place of the grasses when they have a chance.

Before the fire came, the roots of trees, bushes, and grasses kept the earth from washing; and the humus helped to hold the rainwater from running away rapidly, so that more of it had time to soak into the ground. How well this is shown on yonder hills which were once covered with brush. A fire swept over these hills and burned every living thing. What a barren appearance they presented after the heavy winter storms! The slopes were completely covered with little furrows and gullies where the rainwater had done its work. It will be a long time before vegetation will again gain a foothold there and stop the washing of the earth.

When a fire occurs in the dense forests of the Cascade Range, all the trees are killed and the thick layer of decaying vegetation underneath is burned. The spruce, which is one of the most important lumber trees of this region, does not at once spring up again. Its seeds may be scattered there, but the soil is not now in a condition to nourish them. In its place springs up the tamarack pine, which, because it can grow in poor soil, has the whole burned area to itself.

If we should return to the same place perhaps one hundred years after the fire, we should find that the tamarack pines had formed a thick forest. The lumbermen have little use for the tamarack and so have passed it by. In looking carefully through the tamarack forest, we find that other trees are now springing up. They are already struggling for the food, the moisture, and the sunlight which the tamaracks are making use of.

During the many years that have passed since the fire swept this region, decaying vegetation has been slowly accumulating and forming humus again. Now at last the seeds of the spruce find the soil rich enough again to sprout and grow. Here and there are thrifty young trees which will in a few years grow up and choke out the tamarack. Thus the tamarack, though of so little value itself, has done a great work in preparing the soil for a new growth of the valuable spruce.

Upon the drier slopes of the Western mountains shrubs, such as the manzanita and chaparral, spring up and cover the surface after a forest fire. Nature does not seem to want the surface left bare and usually has something at hand, even though it be nothing better than brush, with which to clothe it again. As the years pass humus begins to collect upon the ground and finally restores it to much the same condition it had before the fire. Now, if by any means seeds can reach such places, scattering trees will first spring up in favored spots and, after a time, the trees will become thick enough and large enough to shade the ground and the brush will be killed out.

The cutting of the forests, especially from the steeper mountain slopes, has in many parts of the world changed water, one of Nature's most valuable gifts, into an agent of destruction. Throughout the Eastern and Southern states the floods are higher in spring and lower in summer than they used to be, because of the removal of so large a part of the forests that once covered this whole region.

In the West it is even more necessary that the forest cover be disturbed as little as possible. One reason is that the greater part of the forests are found upon the lofty mountains in which the streams rise. If we deforest these steep slopes, water is going to injure them much more than it would the gentler slopes of the lower lands, if they had been deforested. Another reason is that since little rain falls in the summer in this region, we must do nothing to lessen the summer flow of the streams, which is so much needed for irrigation.

The more water that can be held back in the mountains of the West for summer use, the more prosperous the farmers are. There is nothing that helps to hold the water better than the forests. They help to equalize the flow of the streams so that the floods are not so high in the spring nor the water so low in the summer as they would be if there were no forests.

One of the first questions asked by a man who is thinking of buying a farm is about the water supply. He wants to know whether there are wells, springs, or living streams on the place. Almost everything depends upon the water supply. If there is an abundance, the farmer is likely to be prosperous. When he is prosperous all the rest of us are prosperous, no matter what our business is.

Are you not ready now to say that the Swiss are right in not permitting tree cutting upon any land except under the supervision of a forester? The careless removal of the forests from the mountain slopes may affect the farmer in the valley fifty miles away. Do you not think that this farmer is very much interested in the management of the forest, although he does not own a foot of it?

Trouble always follows the destruction of the forests on the headwaters of the streams.