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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28562-8.txt b/28562-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..94a5749 --- /dev/null +++ b/28562-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4917 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wild Life on the Rockies, by Enos A. Mills + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Wild Life on the Rockies + +Author: Enos A. Mills + +Release Date: April 12, 2009 [EBook #28562] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILD LIFE ON THE ROCKIES *** + + + + +Produced by Geetu Melwani, C. St. Charleskindt and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file made using scans of public domain works at the +University of Georgia.) + + + + + + + + + +Wild Life on the Rockies + + + + +[Illustration: LONG'S PEAK FROM THE EAST] + + + + +Wild Life on the Rockies + +By + +Enos A. Mills + +With Illustrations from Photographs + + + + +[Illustration: Publisher's Device] + + + + +Boston and New York + +Houghton Mifflin Company + +The Riverside Press Cambridge + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY ENOS A. MILLS + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +_Published March 1909_ + + + + +To + +John Muir + + + + +PREFACE + + +This book contains the record of a few of the many happy days and +novel experiences which I have had in the wilds. For more than twenty +years it has been my good fortune to live most of the time with +nature, on the mountains of the West. I have made scores of long +exploring rambles over the mountains in every season of the year, +a nature-lover charmed with the birds and the trees. On my later +excursions I have gone alone and without firearms. During three +succeeding winters, in which I was a Government Experiment Officer +and called the "State Snow Observer," I scaled many of the higher +peaks of the Rockies and made many studies on the upper slopes of +these mountains. + +"Colorado Snow Observer" was printed in part in _The Youth's +Companion_ for May 18, 1905, under the title of "In the Mountain +Snows"; "The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine" appeared in _The World's +Work_ for August, 1908; and "The Beaver and his Works" is reprinted +from _The World To-Day_ for December, 1908. + +E. A. M. + + + + +Contents + + + Colorado Snow Observer 1 + + The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine 29 + + The Beaver and his Works 51 + + The Wilds without Firearms 69 + + A Watcher on the Heights 81 + + Climbing Long's Peak 97 + + Midget, the Return Horse 113 + + Faithful Scotch 129 + + Bob and Some Other Birds 149 + + Kinnikinick 169 + + The Lodge-Pole Pine 181 + + Rocky Mountain Forests 197 + + Besieged by Bears 215 + + Mountain Parks and Camp-Fires 231 + + Index 259 + + + + +Illustrations + + + _Long's Peak from the East_ _Frontispiece_ + + _A Man with a History_ 6 + + _The Crest of the Continent in Winter, + 13,000 Feet above Sea-Level_ 16 + + _A Snow-Slide Track_ 20 + + _A Veteran Western Yellow Pine_ 32 + + _A Beaver-House_ 58 + + _A Beaver-Dam in Winter_ 63 + + _Lake Odessa_ 76 + + _On the Heights_ 84 + + _A Storm on the Rockies_ 94 + + _Long's Peak from the Summit of Mt. Meeker_ 100 + + _On the Tip-Top of Long's Peak_ 110 + + _A Miner on a Return Horse_ 116 + + _Scotch near Timber-Line_ 132 + + _The Cloud-Capped Continental Divide_ 144 + + _Ptarmigan_ 158 + + _Summer at an Altitude of 12,000 Feet_ 178 + + _A Typical Lodge-Pole Forest_ 184 + + _Aspens_ 204 + + _A Grove of Silver Spruce_ 208 + + _Ouray, Colorado, a Typical Mining Town_ 218 + + _Estes Park and the Big Thompson River from + the Top of Mt. Olympus_ 238 + + _In the Uncompahgre Mountains_ 244 + + _A Grass-Plot among Engelmann Spruce_ 250 + + + + +Colorado Snow Observer + + +"Where are you going?" was the question asked me one snowy winter day. +After hearing that I was off on a camping-trip, to be gone several +days, and that the place where I intended to camp was in deep snow on +the upper slopes of the Rockies, the questioners laughed heartily. +Knowing me, some questioners realized that I was in earnest, and all +that they could say in the nature of argument or appeal was said to +cause me to "forego the folly." But I went, and in the romance of a +new world--on the Rockies in winter--I lived intensely through ten +strong days and nights, and gave to my life new and rare experiences. +Afterwards I made other winter excursions, all of which were stirring +and satisfactory. The recollection of these winter experiences is as +complete and exhilarating as any in the vista of my memory. + +Some years after my first winter camping-trip, I found myself +holding a strange position,--that of the "State Snow Observer of +Colorado." I have never heard of another position like it. Professor +L. G. Carpenter, the celebrated irrigation engineer, was making some +original investigations concerning forests and the water-supply. He +persuaded me to take the position, and under his direction I worked +as a government experiment officer. For three successive winters I +traversed the upper slopes of the Rockies and explored the crest of +the continent, alone. While on this work, I was instructed to make +notes on "those things that are likely to be of interest or value +to the Department of Agriculture or the Weather Bureau,"--and to be +careful not to lose my life. + +On these winter trips I carried with me a camera, thermometer, +barometer, compass, notebook, and folding axe. The food carried +usually was only raisins. I left all bedding behind. Notwithstanding +I was alone and in the wilds, I did not carry any kind of a gun. + +The work made it necessary for me to ramble the wintry heights in +sunshine and storm. Often I was out, or rather up, in a blizzard, and +on more than one occasion I was out for two weeks on the snow-drifted +crest of the continent, without seeing any one. I went beyond the +trails and visited the silent places alone. I invaded gulches, eagerly +walked the splendid forest aisles, wandered in the dazzling glare on +dreary alpine moorlands, and scaled the peaks over mantles of ice and +snow. I had many experiences,--amusing, dangerous, and exciting. There +was abundance of life and fun in the work. On many an evening darkness +captured me and compelled me to spend the night in the wilds without +bedding, and often without food. During these nights I kept a +camp-fire blazing until daylight released me. When the night was mild, +I managed to sleep a little,--in installments,--rising from time to +time to give wood to the eager fire. Sometimes a scarcity of wood kept +me busy gathering it all night; and sometimes the night was so cold +that I did not risk going to sleep. During these nights I watched my +flaming fountain of fire brighten, fade, surge, and change, or shower +its spray of sparks upon the surrounding snow-flowers. Strange +reveries I have had by these winter camp-fires. On a few occasions +mountain lions interrupted my thoughts with their piercing, lonely +cries; and more than once a reverie was pleasantly changed by the +whisper of a chickadee in some near-by tree as a cold comrade snuggled +up to it. Even during the worst of nights, when I thought of my lot at +all. I considered it better than that of those who were sick in houses +or asleep in the stuffy, deadly air of the slums. + + "Believe me, 'tis something to be cast + Face to face with thine own self at last." + +[Illustration: A MAN WITH A HISTORY] + +Not all nights were spent outdoors. Many a royal evening was passed in +the cabin of a miner or a prospector, or by the fireside of a family +who for some reason had left the old home behind and sought seclusion +in wild scenes, miles from neighbors. Among Colorado's mountains there +are an unusual number of strong characters who are trying again. They +are strong because broken plans, lost fortunes, or shattered health +elsewhere have not ended their efforts or changed their ideals. Many +are trying to restore health, some are trying again to prosper, others +are just making a start in life, but there are a few who, far from +the madding crowd, are living happily the simple life. Sincerity, +hope, and repose enrich the lives of those who live among the crags +and pines of mountain fastnesses. Many a happy evening I have had with +a family, or an old prospector, who gave me interesting scraps of +autobiography along with a lodging for the night. + +The snow-fall on the mountains of Colorado is very unevenly +distributed, and is scattered through seven months of the year. Two +places only a few miles apart, and separated by a mountain-range, may +have very different climates, and one of these may have twice as much +snow-fall as the other. On the middle of the upper slopes of the +mountains the snow sometimes falls during seven months of the year. +At an altitude of eleven thousand feet the annual fall amounts to +eighteen feet. This is several times the amount that falls at an +altitude of six thousand feet. In a locality near Crested Butte the +annual fall is thirty feet, and during snowy winters even fifty feet. +Most winter days are clear, and the climate less severe than is +usually imagined. + +One winter I walked on snowshoes on the upper slopes of the "snowy" +range of the Rockies, from the Wyoming line on the north to near the +New Mexico line on the south. This was a long walk, and it was full of +amusement and adventure. I walked most of the way on the crest of the +continent. The broken nature of the surface gave me ups and downs. +Sometimes I would descend to the level of seven thousand feet, and +occasionally I climbed some peak that was fourteen thousand feet above +the tides. + +I had not been out many days on this trip when I was caught in a storm +on the heights above tree-line. I at once started downward for the +woods. The way among the crags and precipices was slippery; the wind +threatened every moment to hurl me over a cliff; the wind-blown snow +filled the air so that I could see only a few feet, and at times not +at all. But it was too cold to stop. For two hours I fought my way +downward through the storm, and so dark was it during the last +half-hour that I literally felt my way with my staff. Once in the +woods, I took off a snowshoe, dug a large hole in the snow down to +the earth, built a fire, and soon forgot the perilous descent. After +eating from my supply of raisins, I dozed a little, and woke to find +all calm and the moon shining in glory on a snowy mountain-world of +peaks and pines. I put on my snowshoes, climbed upward beneath the +moon, and from the summit of Lead Mountain, thirteen thousand feet +high, saw the sun rise in splendor on a world of white. + +The tracks and records in the snow which I read in passing made +something of a daily newspaper for me. They told much of news of the +wilds. Sometimes I read of the games that the snowshoe rabbit had +played; of a starving time among the brave mountain sheep on the +heights; of the quiet content in the ptarmigan neighborhood; of the +dinner that the pines had given the grouse; of the amusements and +exercises on the deer's stamping-ground; of the cunning of foxes; of +the visits of magpies, the excursions of lynxes, and the red records +of mountain lions. + +The mountain lion is something of a game-hog and an epicure. He +prefers warm blood for every meal, and is very wasteful. I have much +evidence against him; his worst one-day record that I have shows five +tragedies. In this time he killed a mountain sheep, a fawn, a grouse, +a rabbit, and a porcupine; and as if this were not enough, he was +about to kill another sheep when a dark object on snowshoes shot down +the slope near by and disturbed him. The instances where he has +attacked human beings are rare, but he will watch and follow one for +hours with the utmost caution and curiosity. One morning after a +night-journey through the wood, I turned back and doubled my trail. +After going a short distance I came to the track of a lion alongside +my own. I went back several miles and read the lion's movements. He +had watched me closely. At every place where I rested he had crept up +close, and at the place where I had sat down against a stump he had +crept up to the opposite side of the stump,--and I fear while I dozed! + +One night during this expedition I had lodging in an old and isolated +prospector's cabin, with two young men who had very long hair. For +months they had been in seclusion, "gathering wonderful herbs," +hunting out prescriptions for every human ill, and waiting for their +hair to grow long. I hope they prepared some helpful, or at least +harmless prescriptions, for, ere this, they have become picturesque, +and I fear prosperous, medicine-men on some populous street-corner. +One day I had dinner on the summit of Mt. Lincoln, fourteen thousand +feet above the ocean. I ate with some miners who were digging out +their fortune; and was "the only caller in five months." + +But I was not always a welcome guest. At one of the big mining-camps +I stopped for mail and to rest for a day or so. I was all "rags and +tags," and had several broken strata of geology and charcoal on my +face in addition. Before I had got well into the town, from all +quarters came dogs, each of which seemed determined to make it +necessary for me to buy some clothes. As I had already determined to +do this, I kept the dogs at bay for a time, and then sought refuge in +a first-class hotel; from this the porter, stimulated by an excited +order from the clerk, promptly and literally kicked me out! + +In the robings of winter how different the mountains than when +dressed in the bloom of summer! In no place did the change seem more +marked than on some terrace over which summer flung the lacy drapery +of a white cascade, or where a wild waterfall "leapt in glory." These +places in winter were glorified with the fine arts of ice,--"frozen +music," as some one has defined architecture,--for here winter had +constructed from water a wondrous array of columns, panels, filigree, +fretwork, relief-work, arches, giant icicles, and stalagmites as large +as, and in ways resembling, a big tree with a fluted full-length +mantle of ice. + +Along the way were extensive areas covered with the ruins of +fire-killed trees. Most of the forest fires which had caused these +were the result of carelessness. The timber destroyed by these fires +had been needed by thousands of home-builders. The robes of beauty +which they had burned from the mountain-sides are a serious loss. +These fire ruins preyed upon me, and I resolved to do something to +save the remaining forests. The opportunity came shortly after the +resolution was made. + +Two days before reaching the objective point, farthest south, my food +gave out, and I fasted. But as soon as I reached the end, I started +to descend the heights, and very naturally knocked at the door of the +first house I came to, and asked for something to eat. I supposed I +was at a pioneer's cabin. A handsome, neatly dressed young lady came +to the door, and when her eyes fell upon me she blushed and then +turned pale. I was sorry that my appearance had alarmed her, but I +repeated my request for something to eat. Just then, through the +half-open door behind the young lady, came the laughter of children, +and a glance into the room told me that I was before a mountain +schoolhouse. By this time the teacher, to whom I was talking, startled +me by inviting me in. As I sat eating a luncheon to which the teacher +and each one of the six school-children contributed, the teacher +explained to me that she was recently from the East, and that I so +well fitted her ideas of a Western desperado that she was frightened +at first. When I finished eating, I made my first after-dinner speech; +it was also my first attempt to make a forestry address. One point I +tried to bring out was concerning the destruction wrought by forest +fires. Among other things I said: "During the past few years in +Colorado, forest fires, which ought never to have been started, have +destroyed many million dollars' worth of timber, and the area +over which the fires have burned aggregates twenty-five thousand +square miles. This area of forest would put on the equator an +evergreen-forest belt one mile wide that would reach entirely around +the world. Along with this forest have perished many of the animals +and thousands of beautiful birds who had homes in it." + +I finally bade all good-bye, went on my way rejoicing, and in due +course arrived at Denver, where a record of one of my longest winter +excursions was written. + +In order to give an idea of one of my briefer winter walks, I close +this chapter with an account of a round-trip snowshoe journey from +Estes Park to Grand Lake, the most thrilling and adventurous that has +ever entertained me on the trail. + +One February morning I set off alone on snowshoes to cross the +"range," for the purpose of making some snow-measurements. The nature +of my work for the State required the closest observation of the +character and extent of the snow in the mountains. I hoped to get to +Grand Lake for the night, but I was on the east side of the range, and +Grand Lake was on the west. Along the twenty-five miles of trail there +was only wilderness, without a single house. The trail was steep and +the snow very soft. Five hours were spent in gaining timber-line, +which was only six miles from my starting-place, but four thousand +feet above it. Rising in bold grandeur above me was the summit of +Long's Peak, and this, with the great hills of drifted snow, out of +which here and there a dwarfed and distorted tree thrust its top, made +timber-line seem weird and lonely. + +From this point the trail wound for six miles across bleak heights +before it came down to timber on the other side of the range. I set +forward as rapidly as possible, for the northern sky looked stormy. +I must not only climb up fifteen hundred feet, but must also skirt +the icy edges of several precipices in order to gain the summit. My +friends had warned me that the trip was a foolhardy one even on a +clear, calm day, but I was fated to receive the fury of a snowstorm +while on the most broken portion of the trail. + +The tempest came on with deadly cold and almost blinding violence. The +wind came with awful surges, and roared and boomed among the crags. +The clouds dashed and seethed along the surface, shutting out all +landmarks. I was every moment in fear of slipping or being blown over +a precipice, but there was no shelter; I was on the roof of the +continent, twelve thousand five hundred feet above sea-level, and to +stop in the bitter cold meant death. + +[Illustration: THE CREST OF THE CONTINENT IN WINTER, 13,000 FEET +ABOVE SEA-LEVEL] + +It was still three miles to timber on the west slope, and I found it +impossible to keep the trail. Fearing to perish if I tried to follow +even the general course of the trail, I abandoned it altogether, and +started for the head of a gorge, down which I thought it would be +possible to climb to the nearest timber. Nothing definite could be +seen. The clouds on the snowy surface and the light electrified air +gave the eye only optical illusions. The outline of every object was +topsy-turvy and dim. The large stones that I thought to step on +were not there; and, when apparently passing others, I bumped into +them. Several times I fell headlong by stepping out for a drift and +finding a depression. + +In the midst of these illusions I walked out on a snow-cornice that +overhung a precipice! Unable to see clearly, I had no realization of +my danger until I felt the snow giving way beneath me. I had seen the +precipice in summer, and knew it was more than a thousand feet to the +bottom! Down I tumbled, carrying a large fragment of the snow-cornice +with me. I could see nothing, and I was entirely helpless. Then, just +as the full comprehension of the awful thing that was happening swept +over me, the snow falling beneath me suddenly stopped. I plunged into +it, completely burying myself. Then I, too, no longer moved downward; +my mind gradually admitted the knowledge that my body, together with +a considerable mass of the snow, had fallen upon a narrow ledge and +caught there. More of the snow came tumbling after me, and it was a +matter of some minutes before I succeeded in extricating myself. + +When I thrust my head out of the snow-mass and looked about me, I was +first appalled by a glance outward, which revealed the terrible height +of the precipice on the face of which I was hanging. Then I was +relieved by a glance upward, which showed me that I was only some +twenty feet from the top, and that a return thither would not be very +difficult. But if I had walked from the top a few feet farther back, +I should have fallen a quarter of a mile. + +One of my snowshoes came off as I struggled out, so I took off the +other shoe and used it as a scoop to uncover the lost web. But it +proved very slow and dangerous work. With both shoes off I sank +chest-deep in the snow; if I ventured too near the edge of the ledge, +the snow would probably slip off and carry me to the bottom of the +precipice. It was only after two hours of effort that the shoe was +recovered. + +When I first struggled to the surface of the snow on the ledge, I +looked at once to find a way back to the top of the precipice. I +quickly saw that by following the ledge a few yards beneath the +unbroken snow-cornice I could climb to the top over some jagged +rocks. As soon as I had recovered the shoe, I started round the ledge. +When I had almost reached the jagged rocks, the snow-cornice caved +upon me, and not only buried me, but came perilously near knocking me +into the depths beneath. But at last I stood upon the top in safety. + +A short walk from the top brought me out upon a high hill of snow that +sloped steeply down into the woods. The snow was soft, and I sat down +in it and slid "a blue streak"--my blue overalls recording the +streak--for a quarter of a mile, and then came to a sudden and +confusing stop; one of my webs had caught on a spine of one of the +dwarfed and almost buried trees at timber-line. + +When I had traveled a short distance below timber-line, a fearful +crashing caused me to turn; I was in time to see fragments of snow +flying in all directions, and snow-dust boiling up in a great geyser +column. A snow-slide had swept down and struck a granite cliff. As I +stood there, another slide started on the heights above timber, and +with a far-off roar swept down in awful magnificence, with a +comet-like tail of snow-dust. Just at timber-line it struck a ledge +and glanced to one side, and at the same time shot up into the air so +high that for an instant I saw the treetops beneath it. But it came +back to earth with awful force, and I felt the ground tremble as it +crushed a wide way through the woods. It finally brought up at the +bottom of a gulch with a wreckage of hundreds of noble spruce trees +that it had crushed down and swept before it. + +As I had left the trail on the heights, I was now far from it and in a +rugged and wholly unfrequented section, so that coming upon the fresh +tracks of a mountain lion did not surprise me. But I was not prepared +for what occurred soon afterward. Noticing a steamy vapor rising from +a hole in the snow by the protruding roots of an overturned tree, I +walked to the hole to learn the cause of it. One whiff of the vapor +stiffened my hair and limbered my legs. I shot down a steep slope, +dodging trees and rocks. The vapor was rank with the odor from a bear. + +[Illustration: A SNOW-SLIDE TRACK] + +At the bottom of the slope I found the frozen surface of a stream +much easier walking than the soft snow. All went well until I came to +some rapids, where, with no warning whatever, the thin ice dropped me +into the cold current among the boulders. I scrambled to my feet, with +the ice flying like broken glass. The water came only a little above +my knees, but as I had gone under the surface, and was completely +drenched, I made an enthusiastic move toward the bank. Now snowshoes +are not adapted for walking either in swift water or among boulders. +I realized this thoroughly after they had several times tripped me, +sprawling, into the liquid cold. Finally I sat down in the water, took +them off, and came out gracefully. + +I gained the bank with chattering teeth and an icy armor. My pocket +thermometer showed two degrees above zero. Another storm was bearing +down upon me from the range, and the sun was sinking. But the worst of +it all was that there were several miles of rough and strange country +between me and Grand Lake that would have to be made in the dark. I +did not care to take any more chances on the ice, so I spent a hard +hour climbing out of the caņon. The climb warmed me and set my +clothes steaming. + +My watch indicated six o'clock. A fine snow was falling, and it was +dark and cold. I had been exercising for twelve hours without rest, +and had eaten nothing since the previous day, as I never take +breakfast. I made a fire and lay down on a rock by it to relax, and +also to dry my clothes. In half an hour I started on again. Rocky and +forest-covered ridges lay between me and Grand Lake. In the darkness +I certainly took the worst way. I met with too much resistance in the +thickets and too little on the slippery places, so that when, at +eleven o'clock that night, I entered a Grand Lake Hotel, my appearance +was not prepossessing. + +The next day, after a few snow-measurements, I set off to re-cross the +range. In order to avoid warm bear-dens and cold streams, I took a +different route. It was a much longer way than the one I had come by, +so I went to a hunter's deserted cabin for the night. The cabin had no +door, and I could see the stars through the roof. The old sheet-iron +stove was badly rusted and broken. Most of the night I spent chopping +wood, and I did not sleep at all. But I had a good rest by the stove, +where I read a little from a musty pamphlet on palmistry that I found +between the logs of the cabin. I always carry candles with me. When +the wind is blowing, the wood damp, and the fingers numb, they are of +inestimable value in kindling a fire. I do not carry firearms, and +during the night, when a lion gave a blood-freezing screech, I wished +he were somewhere else. + +Daylight found me climbing toward the top of the range through the +Medicine Bow National Forest, among some of the noblest evergreens in +Colorado. When the sun came over the range, the silent forest vistas +became magnificent with bright lights and deep shadows. At timber-line +the bald rounded summit of the range, like a gigantic white turtle, +rose a thousand feet above me. The slope was steep and very icy; a +gusty wind whirled me about. Climbing to the top would be like going +up a steep ice-covered house-roof. It would be a dangerous and barely +possible undertaking. But as I did not have courage enough to +retreat, I threw off my snowshoes and started up. I cut a place in the +ice for every step. There was nothing to hold to, and a slip meant a +fatal slide. + +With rushes from every quarter, the wind did its best to freeze or +overturn me. My ears froze, and my fingers grew so cold that they +could hardly hold the ice-axe. But after an hour of constant peril and +ever-increasing exhaustion, I got above the last ice and stood upon +the snow. The snow was solidly packed, and, leaving my snowshoes +strapped across my shoulders, I went scrambling up. Near the top of +the range a ledge of granite cropped out through the snow, and toward +this I hurried. Before making a final spurt to the ledge, I paused to +breathe. As I stopped, I was startled by sounds like the creaking of +wheels on a cold, snowy street. The snow beneath me was slipping! I +had started a snow-slide. + +Almost instantly the slide started down the slope with me on it. The +direction in which it was going and the speed it was making would in +a few seconds carry it down two thousand feet of slope, where it would +leap over a precipice into the woods. I was on the very upper edge of +the snow that had started, and this was the tail-end of the slide. I +tried to stand up in the rushing snow, but its speed knocked my feet +from under me, and in an instant I was rolled beneath the surface. +Beneath the snow, I went tumbling on with it for what seemed like a +long time, but I know, of course, that it was for only a second or +two; then my feet struck against something solid. I was instantly +flung to the surface again, where I either was spilled off, or else +fell through, the end of the slide, and came to a stop on the scraped +and frozen ground, out of the grasp of the terrible snow. + +I leaped to my feet and saw the slide sweep on in most impressive +magnificence. At the front end of the slide the snow piled higher +and higher, while following in its wake were splendid streamers and +scrolls of snow-dust. I lost no time in getting to the top, and set +off southward, where, after six miles, I should come to the trail that +led to my starting-place on the east side of the range. After I had +made about three miles, the cold clouds closed in, and everything was +fogged. A chilly half-hour's wait and the clouds broke up. I had lost +my ten-foot staff in the snow-slide, and feeling for precipices +without it would probably bring me out upon another snow-cornice, so +I took no chances. + +I was twelve thousand five hundred feet above sea-level when the +clouds broke up, and from this great height I looked down upon what +seemed to be the margin of the polar world. It was intensely cold, but +the sun shone with dazzling glare, and the wilderness of snowy peaks +came out like a grand and jagged ice-field in the far south. Halos +and peculiarly luminous balls floated through the color-tinged and +electrical air. The horizon had a touch of cobalt blue, and on the +dome above, white flushes appeared and disappeared like faint auroras. +After five hours on these silent but imposing heights I struck my +first day's trail, and began a wild and merry coast down among the +rocks and trees to my starting-place. + +I hope to have more winter excursions, but perhaps I have had my +share. At the bare thought of those winter experiences I am again +on an unsheltered peak struggling in a storm; or I am in a calm and +splendid forest upon whose snowy, peaceful aisles fall the purple +shadows of crags and pines. + + + + +The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine + + +The peculiar charm and fascination that trees exert over many people +I had always felt from childhood, but it was that great nature-lover, +John Muir, who first showed me how and where to learn their language. +Few trees, however, ever held for me such an attraction as did a +gigantic and venerable yellow pine which I discovered one autumn day +several years ago while exploring the southern Rockies. It grew within +sight of the Cliff-Dwellers' Mesa Verde, which stands at the corner +of four States, and as I came upon it one evening just as the sun +was setting over that mysterious tableland, its character and heroic +proportions made an impression upon me that I shall never forget, and +which familiar acquaintance only served to deepen while it yet lived +and before the axeman came. Many a time I returned to build my +camp-fire by it and have a day or a night in its solitary and noble +company. I learned afterwards that it had been given the name "Old +Pine," and it certainly had an impressiveness quite compatible with +the age and dignity which go with a thousand years of life. + +When, one day, the sawmill-man at Mancos wrote, "Come, we are about to +log your old pine," I started at once, regretting that a thing which +seemed to me so human, as well as so noble, must be killed. + +[Illustration: A VETERAN WESTERN YELLOW PINE] + +I went out with the axemen who were to cut the old pine down. A grand +and impressive tree he was. Never have I seen so much individuality, +so much character, in a tree. Although lightning had given him a bald +crown, he was still a healthy giant, and was waving evergreen banners +more than one hundred and fifteen feet above the earth. His massive +trunk, eight feet in diameter on a level with my breast, was covered +with a thick, rough, golden-brown bark which was broken into irregular +plates. Several of his arms were bent and broken. Altogether, he +presented a timeworn but heroic appearance. + +It is almost a marvel that trees should live to become the oldest of +living things. Fastened in one place, their struggle is incessant and +severe. From the moment a baby tree is born--from the instant it casts +its tiny shadow upon the ground--until death, it is in danger from +insects and animals. It cannot move to avoid danger. It cannot run +away to escape enemies. Fixed in one spot, almost helpless, it must +endure flood and drought, fire and storm, insects and earthquakes, +or die. + +Trees, like people, struggle for existence, and an aged tree, like an +aged person, has not only a striking appearance, but an interesting +biography. I have read the autobiographies of many century-old trees, +and have found their life-stories strange and impressive. The yearly +growth, or annual ring of wood with which trees envelop themselves, is +embossed with so many of their experiences that this annual ring of +growth literally forms an autobiographic diary of the tree's life. + +I wanted to read Old Pine's autobiography. A veteran pine that had +stood on the southern Rockies and struggled and triumphed through the +changing seasons of hundreds of years must contain a rare life-story. +From his stand between the Mesa and the pine-plumed mountain, he had +seen the panorama of the seasons and many a strange pageant; he +had beheld what scenes of animal and human strife, what storms and +convulsions of nature! Many a wondrous secret he had locked within his +tree soul. Yet, although he had not recorded what he had _seen_, +I knew that he had kept a fairly accurate diary of his own personal +experience. This I knew the saw would reveal, and this I had +determined to see. + +Nature matures a million conifer seeds for each one she chooses for +growth, so we can only speculate as to the selection of the seed from +which sprung this storied pine. It may be that the cone in which it +matured was crushed into the earth by the hoof of a passing deer. It +may have been hidden by a jay; or, as is more likely, it may have +grown from one of the uneaten cones which a Douglas squirrel had +buried for winter food. Douglas squirrels are the principal nurserymen +for all the Western pineries. Each autumn they harvest a heavy +percentage of the cone crop and bury it for winter. The seeds in the +uneaten cones germinate, and each year countless thousands of conifers +grow from the seeds planted by these squirrels. It may be that the +seed from which Old Pine burst had been planted by an ancient ancestor +of the protesting Douglas who was in possession, or this seed may have +been in a cone which simply bounded or blew into a hole, where the +seed found sufficient mould and moisture to give it a start in life. + + * * * * * + +Two loggers swung their axes. At the first blow a Douglas squirrel +came out of a hole at the base of a dead limb near the top of the tree +and made an aggressive claim of ownership, setting up a vociferous +protest against the cutting. As his voice was unheeded, he came +scolding down the tree, jumped off one of the lower limbs, and took +refuge in a young pine that stood near by. From time to time he came +out on the top of the limb nearest to us, and, with a wry face, fierce +whiskers, and violent gestures, directed a torrent of abuse at the +axemen who were delivering death-blows to Old Pine. + +The old pine's enormous weight caused him to fall heavily, and he came +to earth with tremendous force and struck on an elbow of one of his +stocky arms. The force of the fall not only broke the trunk in two, +but badly shattered it. The damage to the log was so general that the +sawmill-man said it would not pay to saw it into lumber and that it +could rot on the spot. + +I had come a long distance for the express purpose of deciphering Old +Pine's diary as the scroll of his life should be laid open in the +sawmill. The abandonment of the shattered form compelled the adoption +of another way of getting at his story. Receiving permission to do as +I pleased with his remains, I at once began to cut and split both the +trunk and the limbs and to transcribe their strange records. Day after +day I worked. I dug up the roots and thoroughly dissected them, and +with the aid of a magnifier I studied the trunk, the roots, and the +limbs. + +I carefully examined the base of his stump, and in it I found 1047 +rings of growth! He had lived through a thousand and forty-seven +memorable years. As he was cut down in 1903, his birth probably +occurred in 856. + +In looking over the rings of growth, I found that a few of them were +much thicker than the others; and these thick rings, or coats of wood, +tell of favorable seasons. There were also a few extremely thin rings +of growth. In places two and even three of these were together. These +were the result of unfavorable seasons,--of drought or cold. The +rings of trees also show healed wounds, and tell of burns, bites, +and bruises, of torn bark and broken arms. Old Pine not only received +injuries in his early years, but from time to time throughout his +life. The somewhat kinked condition of several of the rings of growth, +beginning with the twentieth, shows that at the age of twenty he +sustained an injury which resulted in a severe curvature of the spine, +and that for some years he was somewhat stooped. I was unable to make +out from his diary whether this injury was the result of a tree or +some object falling upon him and pinning him down, or whether his back +had been overweighted and bent by wet, clinging snow. As I could not +find any scars or bruises, I think that snow must have been the cause +of the injury. However, after a few years he straightened up with +youthful vitality and seemed to outgrow and forget the experience. + +A century of tranquil life followed, and during these years the rapid +growth tells of good seasons as well as good soil. This rapid growth +also shows that there could not have been any crowding neighbors to +share the sun and the soil. The tree had grown evenly in all quarters, +and the pith of the tree was in the centre. But had one tree grown +close, on that quarter the old pine would have grown slower than the +others and would have been thinner, and the pith would thus have been +away from the tree's centre. + +When the old pine was just completing his one hundred and thirty-fifth +ring of growth, he met with an accident which I can account for only +by assuming that a large tree that grew several yards away blew over, +and in falling, stabbed him in the side with two dead limbs. His bark +was broken and torn, but this healed in due time. Short sections of +the dead limbs broke off, however, and were embedded in the old pine. +Twelve years' growth covered them, and they remained hidden from view +until my splitting revealed them. The other wounds started promptly to +heal and, with one exception, did so. + +A year or two later some ants and borers began excavating their deadly +winding ways in the old pine. They probably started to work in one +of the places injured by the falling tree. They must have had some +advantage, or else something must have happened to the nuthatches and +chickadees that year, for, despite the vigilance of these birds, both +the borers and the ants succeeded in establishing colonies that +threatened injury and possibly death. + +Fortunately relief came. One day the chief surgeon of all the +Southwestern pineries came along. This surgeon was the Texas +woodpecker. He probably did not long explore the ridges and little +furrows of the bark before he discovered the wound or heard these +hidden insects working. After a brief examination, holding his ear to +the bark for a moment to get the location of the tree's deadly foe +beneath, he was ready to act. He made two successful operations. +These not only required him to cut deeply into the old pine and take +out the borers, but he may also have had to come back from time to +time to dress the wounds by devouring the ant-colonies which may have +persisted in taking possession of them. The wounds finally healed, and +only the splitting of the affected parts revealed these records, all +filled with pitch and preserved for nearly nine hundred years. + +Following this, an even tenor marked his life for nearly three +centuries. This quiet existence came to an end in the summer of 1301, +when a stroke of lightning tore a limb out of his round top and badly +shattered a shoulder. He had barely recovered from this injury when a +violent wind tore off several of his arms. During the summer of 1348 +he lost two of his largest arms. These were large and sound, and were +more than a foot in diameter at the points of breakage. As these were +broken by a down-pressing weight or force, we may attribute these +breaks to accumulations of snow. + +The oldest, largest portion of a tree is the short section +immediately above the ground, and, as this lower section is the most +exposed to accidents or to injuries from enemies, it generally bears +evidence of having suffered the most. Within its scroll are usually +found the most extensive and interesting autobiographical impressions. + +It is doubtful if there is any portion of the earth upon which there +are so many deadly struggles as upon the earth around the trunk of a +tree. Upon this small arena there are battles fierce and wild; here +nature is "red in tooth and claw." When a tree is small and tender, +countless insects come to feed upon it. Birds come to it to devour +these insects. Around the tree are daily almost merciless fights for +existence. These death-struggles occur not only in the daytime, but in +the night. Mice, rats, and rabbits destroy millions of young trees. +These bold animals often flay baby trees in the daylight, and while at +their deadly feast many a time have they been surprised by hawks, and +then they are at a banquet where they themselves are eaten. The owl, +the faithful nightwatchman of trees, often swoops down at night, and +as a result some little tree is splashed with the blood of the very +animal that came to feed upon it. + +The lower section of Old Pine's trunk contained records which I found +interesting. One of these in particular aroused my imagination. I was +sawing off a section of this lower portion when the saw, with a +buzz-z-z-z, suddenly jumped. The object struck was harder than the +saw. I wondered what it could be, and, cutting the wood carefully +away, laid bare a flint arrowhead. Close to this one I found another, +and then with care I counted the rings of growth to find out the year +that these had wounded Old Pine. The outer ring which these arrowheads +had pierced was the six hundred and thirtieth, so that the year of +this occurrence was 1486. + +Had an Indian bent his bow and shot at a bear that had stood at bay +backed up against this tree? Or was there around this tree a battle +among Indian tribes? Is it possible that at this place some +Cliff-Dweller scouts encountered their advancing foe from the north +and opened hostilities? It may be that around Old Pine was fought the +battle that is said to have decided the fate of that mysterious race +the Cliff-Dwellers. The imagination insists on speculating with these +two arrowheads, though they form a fascinating clue that leads us +to no definite conclusion. But the fact remains that Old Pine was +wounded by two Indian arrowheads some time during his six hundred and +thirtieth summer. + +The year that Columbus discovered America, Old Pine was a handsome +giant with a round head held more than one hundred feet above the +earth. He was six hundred and thirty-six years old, and with the +coming of the Spanish adventurers his lower trunk was given new events +to record. The year 1540 was a particularly memorable one for him. +This year brought the first horses and bearded men into the drama +which was played around him. This year, for the first time, he felt +the edge of steel and the tortures of fire. The old chronicles say +that the Spanish explorers found the cliff-houses in the year 1540. +I believe that during this year a Spanish exploring party may have +camped beneath Old Pine and built a fire against his instep, and that +some of the explorers hacked him with an axe. The old pine had +distinct records of axe and fire markings during the year 1540. It was +not common for the Indians of the West to burn or mutilate trees, and +as it was common for the Spaniards to do so, and as these hackings in +the tree seemed to have been made with some edged tool sharper than +any possessed by the Indians, it at least seems probable that they +were done by the Spaniards. At any rate, from the year 1540 until the +day of his death, Old Pine carried these scars on his instep. + +As the average yearly growth of the old pine was about the same as in +trees similarly situated at the present time, I suppose that climatic +conditions in his early days must have been similar to the climatic +conditions of to-day. His records indicate periods of even tenor of +climate, a year of extremely poor conditions, occasionally a year +crowned with a bountiful wood harvest. From 1540 to 1762 I found +little of special interest. In 1762, however, the season was not +regular. After the ring was well started, something, perhaps a cold +wave, for a time checked its growth, and as a result the wood for +that one year resembled two years' growth, but yet the difference +between this double or false ring and a regular one was easily +detected. Old Pine's "hard times" experience seems to have been during +the years 1804 and 1805. I think it probable that these were years of +drought. During 1804 the layer of wood was the thinnest in his life, +and for 1805 the only wood I could find was a layer which only partly +covered the trunk of the tree, and this was exceedingly thin. + +From time to time in the old pine's record, I came across what seemed +to be indications of an earthquake shock; but late in 1811 or early in +1812, I think there is no doubt that he experienced a violent shock, +for he made extensive records of it. This earthquake occurred after +the sap had ceased to flow in 1811, and before it began to flow in the +spring of 1812. In places the wood was checked and shattered. At one +point, some distance from the ground, there was a bad horizontal +break. Two big roots were broken in two, and that quarter of the tree +which faced the cliffs had suffered from a rock bombardment. I +suppose the violence of the quake displaced many rocks, and some of +these, as they came bounding down the mountain-side, collided with Old +Pine. One, of about five pounds' weight, struck him so violently in +the side that it remained embedded there. After some years the wound +was healed over, but this fragment remained in the tree until I +released it. + +During 1859 some one made an axe-mark on the old pine that may have +been intended for a trail-blaze, and during the same year another fire +badly burned and scarred his ankle. I wonder if some prospectors came +this way in 1859 and made camp by him. + +Another record of man's visits to the tree was made in the summer of +1881, when I think a hunting or outing party may have camped near here +and amused themselves by shooting at a mark on Old Pine's ankle. +Several modern rifle-bullets were found embedded in the wood around or +just beneath a blaze which was made on the tree the same year in which +the bullets had entered it. As both these marks were made during the +year 1881, it is at least possible that this year the old pine was +used as the background for a target during a shooting contest. + +While I was working over the old pine, a Douglas squirrel who lived +near by used every day to stop in his busy harvesting of pine-cones to +look on and scold me. As I watched him placing his cones in a hole in +the ground under the pine-needles, I often wondered if one of his +buried cones would remain there uneaten to germinate and expand ever +green into the air, and become a noble giant to live as long and as +useful a life as Old Pine. I found myself trying to picture the scenes +in which this tree would stand when the birds came singing back from +the Southland in the springtime of the year 3000. + +After I had finished my work of splitting, studying, and deciphering +the fragments of the old pine, I went to the sawmill and arranged for +the men to come over that evening after I had departed and burn every +piece and vestige of the venerable old tree. I told them I should +be gone by dark. Then I went back and piled into a pyramid every +fragment of root and trunk and broken branch. Seating myself upon this +pyramid, I spent some time that afternoon gazing through the autumn +sunglow at the hazy Mesa Verde, while my mind rebuilt and shifted the +scenes of the long, long drama in which Old Pine had played his part, +and of which he had given us but a few fragmentary records. I lingered +there dreaming until twilight. I thought of the cycles during which he +had stood patient in his appointed place, and my imagination busied +itself with the countless experiences that had been recorded, and the +scenes and pageants he had witnessed but of which he had made no +record. I wondered if he had enjoyed the changing of seasons. I knew +that he had often boomed or hymned in the storm or in the breeze. Many +a monumental robe of snow-flowers had he worn. More than a thousand +times he had beheld the earth burst into bloom amid the happy songs of +mating birds; hundreds of times in summer he had worn countless +crystal rain-jewels in the sunlight of the breaking storm, while the +brilliant rainbow came and vanished on the near-by mountain-side. Ten +thousand times he had stood silent in the lonely light of the white +and mystic moon. + +Twilight was fading into darkness when I arose and started on a +night-journey for the Mesa Verde, where I intended next morning to +greet an old gnarled cedar which grew on its summit. When I arrived at +the top of the Mesa, I looked back and saw a pyramid of golden flame +standing out in the darkness. + + + + +The Beaver and his Works + + +I have never been able to decide which I love best, birds or trees, +but as these are really comrades it does not matter, for they can take +first place together. But when it comes to second place in my +affection for wild things, this, I am sure, is filled by the beaver. +The beaver has so many interesting ways, and is altogether so useful, +so thrifty, so busy, so skillful, and so picturesque, that I believe +his life and his deeds deserve a larger place in literature and a +better place in our hearts. His engineering works are of great value +to man. They not only help to distribute the waters and beneficially +control the flow of the streams, but they also catch and save from +loss enormous quantities of the earth's best plant-food. In helping to +do these two things,--governing the rivers and fixing the soil,--he +plays an important part, and if he and the forest had their way with +the water-supply, floods would be prevented, streams would never run +dry, and a comparatively even flow of water would be maintained in +the rivers every day of the year. + +A number of beaver establishing a colony made one of the most +interesting exhibitions of constructive work that I have ever watched. +The work went on for several weeks, and I spent hours and days in +observing operations. My hiding-place on a granite crag allowed me a +good view of the work,--the cutting and transportation of the little +logs, the dam-building, and the house-raising. I was close to the +trees that were felled. Occasionally, during the construction work of +this colony, I saw several beaver at one time cutting trees near one +another. Upon one occasion, one was squatted on a fallen tree, another +on the limb of a live one, and a third upon a boulder, each busy +cutting down his tree. In every case, the tail was used for a +combination stool and brace. While cutting, the beaver sat upright and +clasped the willow with fore paws or put his hands against the tree, +usually tilting his head to one side. The average diameter of the +trees cut was about four inches, and a tree of this size was cut down +quickly and without a pause. + +When the tree was almost cut off, the cutter usually thumped with his +tail, at which signal all other cutters near by scampered away. But +this warning signal was not always given, and in one instance an +unwarned cutter had a narrow escape from a tree falling perilously +close to him. + +Before cutting a tree, a beaver usually paused and appeared to look at +its surroundings as if choosing a place to squat or sit while cutting +it down; but so far as I could tell, he gave no thought as to the +direction in which the tree was going to fall. This is true of every +beaver which I have seen begin cutting, and I have seen scores. But +beavers have individuality, and occasionally I noticed one with marked +skill or decision. It may be, therefore, that some beaver try to fell +trees on a particular place. In fact, I remember having seen in two +localities stumps which suggested that the beaver who cut down the +trees had planned just how they were to fall. In the first locality, +I could judge only from the record left by the stumps; but the quarter +on which the main notch had been made, together with the fact that the +notch had in two instances been made on a quarter of the tree where +it was inconvenient for the cutter to work, seemed to indicate a plan +to fell the tree in a particular direction. In the other locality, +I knew the attitude of the trees before they were cut, and in this +instance the evidence was so complete and conclusive that I must +believe the beaver that cut down these trees endeavored to get them to +fall in a definite direction. In each of these cases, however, judging +chiefly from the teeth-marks, I think the cuttings were done by the +same beaver. Many observations induce me to believe, however, that the +majority of beaver do not plan how the trees are to fall. + +Once a large tree is on the ground, the limbs are trimmed off and the +trunk is cut into sections sufficiently small to be dragged, rolled, +or pushed to the water, where transportation is easy. + +The young beaver that I have seen cutting trees have worked in +leisurely manner, in contrast with the work of the old ones. After +giving a few bites, they usually stop to eat a piece of the bark, or +to stare listlessly around for a time. As workers, young beaver appear +at their best and liveliest when taking a limb from the hillside to +the house in the pond. A young beaver will catch a limb by one end in +his teeth, and, throwing it over his shoulder in the attitude of a +puppy racing with a rope or a rag, make off to the pond. Once in the +water, he throws up his head and swims to the house or the dam with +the limb held trailing out over his back. + +The typical beaver-house seen in the Rockies at the present time +stands in the upper edge of the pond which the beaver-dam has made, +near where the brook enters it. Its foundation is about eight feet +across, and it stands from five to ten feet in height, a rude cone in +form. Most houses are made of sticks and mud, and are apparently put +up with little thought for the living-room, which is later dug or +gnawed from the interior. The entrance to the house is below +water-level, and commonly on the bottom of the lake. Late each autumn, +the house is plastered on the outside with mud, and I am inclined to +believe that this plaster is not so much to increase the warmth of +the house as to give it, when the mud is frozen, a strong protective +armor, an armor which will prevent the winter enemies of the beaver +from breaking into the house. + +Each autumn beaver pile up near by the house, a large brush-heap of +green trunks and limbs, mostly of aspen, willow, cottonwood, or alder. +This is their granary, and during the winter they feed upon the green +bark, supplementing this with the roots of water-plants, which they +drag from the bottom of the pond. + +Along in May five baby beaver appear, and a little later these explore +the pond and race, wrestle, and splash water in it as merrily as boys. +Occasionally they sun themselves on a fallen log, or play together +there, trying to push one another off into the water. Often they +play in the canals that lead between ponds or from them, or on the +"slides." Toward the close of summer, they have their lessons in +cutting and dam-building. + +[Illustration: A BEAVER-HOUSE + +Supply of winter food piled on the right] + +A beaver appears awkward as he works on land. In use of arms and hands +he reminds one of a monkey, while his clumsy and usually slow-moving +body will often suggest the hippopotamus. By using head, hands, teeth, +tail, and webbed feet the beaver accomplishes much. The tail of a +beaver is a useful and much-used appendage; it serves as a rudder, a +stool, and a ramming or signal club. The beaver _may_ use his tail +for a trowel, but I have never seen him so use it. His four front teeth +are excellent edge-tools for his logging and woodwork; his webbed feet +are most useful in his deep-waterway transportation, and his hands in +house-building and especially in dam-building. It is in dam-building +that the beaver shows his greatest skill and his best headwork; for I +confess to the belief that a beaver reasons. I have so often seen him +change his plans so wisely and meet emergencies so promptly and well +that I can think of him only as a reasoner. + +I have often wondered if beaver make a preliminary survey of a place +before beginning to build a dam. I have seen them prowling +suggestively along brooks just prior to beaver-dam building operations +there, and circumstantial evidence would credit them with making +preliminary surveys. But of this there is no proof. I have noticed a +few things that seem to have been considered by beaver before +beginning dam-building,--the supply of food and of dam-building +material, for instance, and the location of the dam so as to require +the minimum amount of material and insure the creation of the largest +reservoir. In making the dam, the beaver usually takes advantage of +boulders, willow-clumps, and surface irregularities. But he often +makes errors of judgment. I have seen him abandon dams both before and +after completion. The apparent reasons were that the dam either had +failed or would fail to flood the area which he needed or desired +flooded. His endeavors are not always successful. About twenty years +ago, near Helena, Montana, a number of beaver made an audacious +attempt to dam the Missouri River. After long and persistent effort, +however, they gave it up. The beaver may be credited with errors, +failures, and successes. He has forethought. If a colony of beaver be +turned loose upon a three-mile tree-lined brook in the wilds and left +undisturbed for a season, or until they have had time to select a site +and locate themselves to best advantage, it is probable that the +location chosen will indicate that they have examined the entire +brook and then selected the best place. + +As soon as the beaver's brush dam is completed, it begins to +accumulate trash and mud. In a little while, usually, it is covered +with a mass of soil, shrubs of willow begin to grow upon it, and after +a few years it is a strong, earthy, willow-covered dam. The dams vary +in length from a few feet to several hundred feet. I measured one on +the South Platte River that was eleven hundred feet long. + +The influence of a beaver-dam is astounding. As soon as completed, it +becomes a highway for the folk of the wild. It is used day and night. +Mice and porcupines, bears and rabbits, lions and wolves, make a +bridge of it. From it, in the evening, the graceful deer cast their +reflections in the quiet pond. Over it dash pursuer and pursued; and +on it take place battles and courtships. It is often torn by hoof and +claw of animals locked in death-struggles, and often, very often, it +is stained with blood. Many a drama, picturesque, fierce, and wild, is +staged upon a beaver-dam. + +An interesting and valuable book could be written concerning the +earth as modified and benefited by beaver action, and I have long +thought that the beaver deserved at least a chapter in Marsh's +masterly book, "The Earth as modified by Human Action." To "work like +a beaver" is an almost universal expression for energetic persistence, +but who realizes that the beaver has accomplished anything? Almost +unread of and unknown are his monumental works. + +The instant a beaver-dam is completed, it has a decided influence on +the flow of the water, and especially on the quantity of sediment +which the passing water carries. The sediment, instead of going down +to fill the channel below, or to clog the river's mouth, fill the +harbor, and do damage a thousand miles away, is accumulated in the +pond behind the dam, and a level deposit is formed over the entire +area of the lake. By and by this deposit is so great that the lake is +filled with sediment, but before this happens, both lake and dam check +and delay so much flood-water that floods are diminished in volume, +and the water thus delayed is in part added to the flow of the +streams at the time of low water, the result being a more even +stream-flow at all times. + +The regulation of stream-flow is important. There are only a few rainy +days each year, and all the water that flows down the rivers falls +on these few rainy days. The instant the water reaches the earth, it +is hurried away toward the sea, and unless some agency delays the +run-off, the rivers would naturally contain water only on the rainy +days and a little while after. The fact that some rivers contain water +at all times is but evidence that something has held in check a +portion of the water which fell during these rainy days. + +[Illustration: A BEAVER-DAM IN WINTER] + +Among the agencies which best perform this service of keeping the +streams ever-flowing, are the forests and the works of the beaver. +Rainfall accumulates in the brooks. The brooks conduct the water to +the rivers. If across a river there be a beaver-dam, the pond formed +by it will be a reservoir which will catch and retain some of the +water coming into it during rainy days, and will thus delay the +passage of all water which flows through it. Beaver-reservoirs are +leaky ones, and if they are stored full during rainy days, the +leaking helps to maintain the stream-flow in dry weather. A beaver-dam +thus tends to distribute to the streams below it a moderate quantity +of water each day. In other words, it spreads out or distributes the +water of the few rainy days through all the days of the year. A river +which flows steadily throughout the year is of inestimable value to +mankind. If floods sweep a river, they do damage. If low water comes, +the wheels of steamers and of manufactories cease to move, and damage +or death may result. In maintaining a medium between the extremes of +high and low water, the beaver's work is of profound importance. In +helping beneficially to control a river, the beaver would render +enormous service if allowed to construct his works at its source. +During times of heavy rainfall, the water-flow carries with it, +especially in unforested sections, great quantities of soil and +sediment. Beaver-dams catch much of the material eroded from the +hillsides above, and also prevent much erosion along the streams which +they govern. They thus catch and deposit in place much valuable soil, +the cream of the earth, that otherwise would be washed away and +lost,--washed away into the rivers and harbors, impeding navigation +and increasing river and harbor bills. + +There is an old Indian legend which says that after the Creator +separated the land from the water he employed gigantic beavers to +smooth it down and prepare it for the abode of man. This is +appreciative and suggestive. Beaver-dams have had much to do with the +shaping and creating of a great deal of the richest agricultural land +in America. To-day there are many peaceful and productive valleys the +soil of which has been accumulated and fixed in place by ages of +engineering activities on the part of the beaver before the white man +came. On both mountain and plain you may still see much of this good +work accomplished by them. In the mountains, deep and almost useless +gulches have been filled by beaver-dams with sediment, and in course +of time changed to meadows. So far as I know, the upper course of +every river in the Rockies is through a number of beaver-meadows, +some of them acres in extent. + +On the upper course of Grand River in Colorado, I once made an +extensive examination of some old beaver-works. Series of beaver-dams +had been extended along this stream for several miles, as many as +twenty dams to the mile. Each succeeding dam had backed water to the +one above it. These had accumulated soil and formed a series of +terraces, which, with the moderate slope of the valley, had in time +formed an extensive and comparatively level meadow for a great +distance along the river. The beaver settlement on this river was +long ago almost entirely destroyed, and the year before my arrival +a cloudburst had fallen upon the mountain-slope above, and the +down-rushing flood had, in places, eroded deeply into the deposits +formed by the beaver-works. At one place the water had cut down +twenty-two feet, and had brought to light the fact that the deposit +had been formed by a series of dams one above the other, a new dam +having been built or the old one increased in height when the deposit +of sediment had filled, or nearly filled, the pond. This is only one +instance. There are thousands of similar places in the Rockies where +beaver-dams have accumulated deposits of greater or less extent than +those on the Grand River. + +Only a few beaver remain, and though much of their work will endure +to serve mankind, in many places their old work is gone or is going +to ruin for the want of attention. We are paying dearly for the +thoughtless and almost complete destruction of this animal. A live +beaver is far more valuable to us than a dead one. Soil is eroding +away, river-channels are filling, and most of the streams in the +United States fluctuate between flood and low water. A beaver colony +at the source of every stream would moderate these extremes and add to +the picturesqueness and beauty of many scenes that are now growing +ugly with erosion. We need to coöperate with the beaver. He would +assist the work of reclamation, and be of great service in maintaining +the deep-waterways. I trust he will be assisted in colonizing our +National Forests, and allowed to cut timber there without a permit. + +The beaver is the Abou-ben-Adhem of the wild. May his tribe increase. + + + + +The Wilds without Firearms + + +Had I encountered the two gray wolves during my first unarmed +camping-trip into the wilds, the experience would hardly have +suggested to me that going without firearms is the best way to enjoy +wild nature. But I had made many unarmed excursions beyond the trail +before I had that adventure, and the habit of going without a gun was +so firmly fixed and so satisfactory that even a perilous wolf +encounter did not arouse any desire for firearms. The habit continued, +and to-day the only way I can enjoy the wilds is to leave guns behind. + +On that autumn afternoon I was walking along slowly, reflectively, in +a deep forest. Not a breath of air moved, and even the aspen's golden +leaves stood still in the sunlight. All was calm and peaceful around +and within me, when I came to a little sunny frost-tanned grass-plot +surrounded by tall, crowding pines. I felt drawn to its warmth and +repose and stepped joyfully into it. Suddenly two gray wolves sprang +from almost beneath my feet and faced me defiantly. At a few feet +distance they made an impressive show of ferocity, standing ready +apparently to hurl themselves upon me. + +Now the gray wolf is a powerful, savage beast, and directing his +strong jaws, tireless muscles, keen scent, and all-seeing eyes are +exceedingly nimble wits. He is well equipped to make the severe +struggle for existence which his present environment compels. In many +Western localities, despite the high price offered for his scalp, he +has managed not only to live, but to increase and multiply. I had seen +gray wolves pull down big game. On one occasion I had seen a vigorous +long-horned steer fall after a desperate struggle with two of these +fearfully fanged animals. Many times I had come across scattered bones +which told of their triumph; and altogether I was so impressed with +their deadliness that a glimpse of one of them usually gave me over +to a temporary dread. + +The two wolves facing me seemed to have been asleep in the sun when +I disturbed them. I realized the danger and was alarmed, of course, but +my faculties were under control, were stimulated, indeed, to unusual +alertness, and I kept a bold front and faced them without flinching. +Their expression was one of mingled surprise and anger, together with +the apparent determination to sell their lives as dearly as possible. +I gave them all the attention which their appearance and their +reputation demanded. Not once did I take my eyes off them. I held them +at bay with my eyes. I still have a vivid picture of terribly gleaming +teeth, bristling backs, and bulging muscles in savage readiness. + +They made no move to attack. I was afraid to attack and I dared not +run away. I remembered that some trees I could almost reach behind me +had limbs that stretched out toward me, yet I felt that to wheel, +spring for a limb, and swing up beyond their reach could not be done +quickly enough to escape those fierce jaws. + +Both sides were of the same mind, ready to fight, but not at all eager +to do so. Under these conditions our nearness was embarrassing, and +we faced each other for what seemed, to me at least, a long time. My +mind working like lightning, I thought of several possible ways of +escaping, I considered each at length, found it faulty, and dismissed +it. Meanwhile, not a sound had been made. I had not moved, but +something had to be done. Slowly I worked the small folding axe from +its sheath, and with the slowest of movements placed it in my right +coat-pocket with the handle up, ready for instant use. I did this with +studied deliberation, lest a sudden movement should release the +springs that held the wolves back. I kept on staring. Statues, almost, +we must have appeared to the "camp-bird" whose call from a near-by +limb told me we were observed, and whose nearness gave me courage. +Then, looking the nearer of the two wolves squarely in the eye, I said +to him, "Well, why don't you move?" as though we were playing checkers +instead of the game of life. He made no reply, but the spell was +broken. I believe that both sides had been bluffing. In attempting to +use my kodak while continuing the bluff, I brought matters to a +focus. "What a picture you fellows will make," I said aloud, as my +right hand slowly worked the kodak out of the case which hung under my +left arm. Still keeping up a steady fire of looks, I brought the kodak +in front of me ready to focus, and then touched the spring that +released the folding front. When the kodak mysteriously, suddenly +opened before the wolves, they fled for their lives. In an instant +they had cleared the grassy space and vanished into the woods. I did +not get their picture. + +With a gun, the wolf encounter could not have ended more happily. At +any rate, I have not for a moment cared for a gun since I returned +enthusiastic from my first delightful trip into the wilds without one. +Out in the wilds with nature is one of the safest and most sanitary of +places. Bears are not seeking to devour, and the death-list from +lions, wolves, snakes, and all other bugbears combined does not equal +the death-list from fire, automobiles, street-cars, or banquets. Being +afraid of nature or a rainstorm is like being afraid of the dark. + +The time of that first excursion was spent among scenes that I had +visited before, but the discoveries I made and the deeper feelings +it stirred within me, led me to think it more worth while than any +previous trip among the same delightful scenes. The first day, +especially, was excitingly crowded with new sights and sounds and +fancies. I fear that during the earlier trips the rifle had obscured +most of the scenes in which it could not figure, and as a result I +missed fairyland and most of the sunsets. + +[Illustration: LAKE ODESSA] + +When I arrived at the alpine lake by which I was to camp, evening's +long rays and shadows were romantically robing the picturesque wild +border of the lake. The crags, the temples, the flower-edged +snowdrifts, and the grass-plots of this wild garden seemed +half-unreal, as over them the long lights and torn shadows grouped +and changed, lingered and vanished, in the last moments of the sun. +The deep purple of evening was over all, and the ruined crag with +the broken pine on the ridge-top was black against the evening's +golden glow, when I hastened to make camp by a pine temple while +the beautiful world of sunset's hour slowly faded into the night. + +The camp-fire was a glory-burst in the darkness, and the small +many-spired evergreen temple before me shone an illuminated cathedral +in the night. All that evening I believed in fairies, and by watching +the changing camp-fire kept my fancies frolicking in realms of mystery +where all the world was young. I lay down without a gun, and while the +fire changed and faded to black and gray the coyotes began to howl. +But their voices did not seem as lonely or menacing as when I had had +a rifle by my side. As I lay listening to them, I thought I detected +merriment in their tones, and in a little while their shouts rang as +merrily as though they were boys at play. Never before had I realized +that coyotes too had enjoyments, and I listened to their shouts with +pleasure. At last the illumination faded from the cathedral grove and +its templed top stood in charcoal against the clear heavens as I fell +asleep beneath the peaceful stars. + +The next morning I loitered here and there, getting acquainted with +the lake-shore, for without a gun all objects, or my eyes, were so +changed that I had only a dim recollection of having seen the place +before. From time to time, as I walked about, I stopped to try to win +the confidence of the small folk in fur and feathers. I found some +that trusted me, and at noon a chipmunk, a camp-bird, a chickadee, and +myself were several times busy with the same bit of luncheon at once. + +Some years ago mountain sheep often came in flocks to lick the salty +soil in a ruined crater on Specimen Mountain. One day I climbed up and +hid myself in the crags to watch them. More than a hundred of them +came. After licking for a time, many lay down. Some of the rams posed +themselves on the rocks in heroic attitudes and looked serenely and +watchfully around. Young lambs ran about, and a few occasionally raced +up and down smooth, rocky steeps, seemingly without the slightest +regard for the laws of falling bodies. I was close to the flock, but +luckily they did not suspect my presence. After enjoying their fine +wild play for more than two hours, I slipped away and left them in +their home among the crags. + +One spring day I paused in a whirl of mist and wet snow to look for +the trail. I could see only a few yards ahead. As I peered ahead, a +bear emerged from the gloom, heading straight for me. Behind her were +two cubs. I caught her impatient expression when she beheld me. She +stopped, and then, with a growl of anger, she wheeled and boxed cubs +right and left like an angry mother. The bears disappeared in the +direction from which they had come, the cubs urged on with spanks +from behind as all vanished in the falling snow. + +The gray Douglas squirrel is one of the most active, audacious, and +outspoken of animals. He enjoys seclusion and claims to be monarch of +all he surveys, and no trespasser is too big to escape a scolding from +him. Many times he has given me a terrible tongue-lashing with a +desperate accompaniment of fierce facial expressions, bristling +whiskers, and emphatic gestures. I love this brave fellow creature; +but if he were only a few inches bigger, I should never risk my life +in his woods without a gun. + +This is a beautiful world, and all who go out under the open sky will +feel the gentle, kindly influence of Nature and hear her good +tidings. The forests of the earth are the flags of Nature. They appeal +to all and awaken inspiring universal feelings. Enter the forest and +the boundaries of nations are forgotten. It may be that some time an +immortal pine will be the flag of a united and peaceful world. + + + + +A Watcher on the Heights + + +While on the sky-line as State Snow Observer, I had one adventure with +the elements that called for the longest special report that I have +ever written. Perhaps I cannot do better than quote this report +transmitted to Professor Carpenter, at Denver, on May 26, 1904. + + +NOTES ON THE POUDRE FLOOD + +The day before the Poudre flood, I traveled for eight hours +northwesterly along the top of the Continental Divide, all the time +being above timber-line and from eleven thousand to twelve thousand +feet above sea-level. + +The morning was cloudless and hot. The western sky was marvelously +clear. Eastward, a thin, dark haze overspread everything below ten +thousand feet. By 9.30 A. M. this haze had ascended higher than where +I was. At nine o'clock the snow on which I walked, though it had been +frozen hard during the night, was soggy and wet. + +About 9.30 a calm that had prevailed all the morning gave way before +an easy intermittent warm breeze from the southeast. + +At 10.10 the first cloud appeared in the north, just above Hague's +Peak. It was a heavy cumulus cloud, but I do not know from what +direction it came. It rose high in the air, drifted slowly toward the +west, and then seemed to dissolve. At any rate, it vanished. About +10.30 several heavy clouds rose from behind Long's Peak, moving toward +the northwest, rising higher into the sky as they advanced. + +[Illustration: ON THE HEIGHTS] + +The wind, at first in fitful dashes from the southeast, began to come +more steadily and swiftly after eleven o'clock, and was so warm that +the snow softened to a sloppy state. The air carried a tinge of haze, +and conditions were oppressive. It was labor to breathe. Never, except +one deadly hot July day in New York City, have I felt so overcome with +heat and choking air. Perspiration simply streamed from me. These +oppressive conditions continued for two hours,--until about one +o'clock. While they lasted, my eyes pained, ached, and twitched. There +was no glare, but only by keeping my eyes closed could I stand the +half-burning pain. Finally I came to some crags and lay down for a +time in the shade. I was up eleven thousand five hundred feet and the +time was 12.20. As I lay on the snow gazing upward, I became aware +that there were several flotillas of clouds of from seven to twenty +each, and these were moving toward every point of the compass. Each +seemed on a different stratum of air, and each moved through space a +considerable distance above or below the others. The clouds moving +eastward were the highest. Most of the lower clouds were those moving +westward. The haze and sunlight gave color to every cloud, and this +color varied from smoky red to orange. + +At two o'clock the haze came in from the east almost as dense as a +fog-bank, crossed the ridge before me, and spread out as dark and +foreboding as the smoke of Vesuvius. Behind me the haze rolled upward +when it struck the ridge, and I had clear glimpses whenever I looked +to the southwest. This heavy, muddy haze prevailed for a little more +than half an hour, and as it cleared, the clouds began to disappear, +but a gauzy haze still continued in the air. The feeling in the air +was not agreeable, and for the first time in my life I felt alarmed +by the shifting, rioting clouds and the weird haze. + +I arrived at timber-line south of Poudre Lakes about 4.30 P. M., and +for more than half an hour the sky, except in the east over the +foothills, was clear, and the sunlight struck a glare from the snow. +With the cleared air there came to me an easier feeling. The +oppressiveness ceased. I descended a short distance into the woods +and relaxed on a fallen tree that lay above the snow. + +I had been there but a little while, when--snap! buzz! buzz! buzz! +ziz! ziz! and electricity began to pull my hair and hum around my +ears. The electricity passed off shortly, but in a little while it +caught me again by the hair for a brief time, and this time my right +arm momentarily cramped and my heart seemed to give several lurches. I +arose and tramped on and downward, but every little while I was in for +shocking treatment. The electrical waves came from the southwest and +moved northeast. They were separated by periods of from one to several +minutes in length, and were about two seconds in passing. During +their presence they made it lively for me, with hair-pulling, +heart-palpitation, and muscular cramps. I tried moving speedily with +the wave, also standing still and lying down, hoping that the wave +would pass me by; but in each and every case it gave me the same +stirring treatment. Once I stood erect and rigid as the wave came +on, but it intensified suddenly the rigidity of every muscle to a +seemingly rupturing extent, and I did not try that plan again. The +effect of each wave on me seemed to be slightly weakened whenever +I lay down and fully relaxed my muscles. + +I was on a northerly slope, in spruce timber, tramping over five feet +of snow. During these electrical waves, the points of dry twigs were +tipped with a smoky blue flame, and sometimes bands of this bluish +flame encircled green trees just below their lower limbs. I looked at +the compass a few times, and though the needle occasionally swayed a +little, it was not affected in any marked manner. + +The effect of the electrical waves on me became less as I descended, +but whether from my getting below the electrical stratum, or from a +cessation of the current, I cannot say. + +But I did not descend much below eleven thousand feet, and at the +lowest point I crossed the South Poudre, at the outlet of Poudre +Lakes. In crossing I broke through the ice and received a wetting, +with the exception of my right side above the hip. Once across, I +walked about two hundred yards through an opening, then again entered +the woods, on the southeasterly slope of Specimen Mountain. I had +climbed only a short distance up this slope when another electrical +wave struck me. The effect of this was similar to that of the +preceding ones. There was, however, a marked difference in the +intensity with which the electricity affected the wet and the dry +portions of my body. The effect on my right side and shoulder, which +had escaped wetting when I broke through the ice, was noticeably +stronger than on the rest of my body. Climbing soon dried my clothes +sufficiently to make this difference no longer noticeable. The waves +became more frequent than at first, but not so strong. I made a clumsy +climb of about five hundred feet, my muscles being "muscle-bound" all +the time with rigidity from electricity. But this climb brought me +almost to timber-line on Specimen Mountain, and also under the shadow +of the south peak of it. At this place the electrical effects almost +ceased. Nor did I again seriously feel the current until I found +myself out in the sunlight which came between the two peaks of +Specimen. While I continued in the sunlight I felt the electrical +wave, but, strange to say, when I again entered the shadow I almost +wholly escaped it. + +When I started on the last slope toward the top of North Specimen, I +came out into the sunlight again, and I also passed into an electrical +sea. The slope was free from snow, and as the electrical waves swept +in close succession, about thirty seconds apart, they snapped, hummed, +and buzzed in such a manner that their advance and retreat could be +plainly heard. In passing by me, the noise was more of a crackling and +humming nature, while a million faint sparks flashed from the stones +(porphyry and rhyolite) as the wave passed over. But the effect on me +became constant. Every muscle was almost immovable. I could climb only +a few steps without weakening to the stopping-point. I breathed only +by gasps, and my heart became violent and feeble by turns. I felt as +if cinched in a steel corset. After I had spent ten long minutes and +was only half-way up a slope, the entire length of which I had more +than once climbed in a few minutes and in fine shape, I turned to +retreat, but as there was no cessation of the electrical colic, I +faced about and started up again. I reached the top a few minutes +before 6.30 P. M., and shortly afterward the sun disappeared behind +clouds and peaks. + +I regret that I failed to notice whether the electrical effects +ceased with the setting of the sun, but it was not long after the +disappearance of the sun before I was at ease, enjoying the +magnificent mountain-range of clouds that had formed above the +foothills and stood up glorious in the sunlight. + +Shortly before five o'clock the clouds had begun to pile up in the +east, and their gigantic forms, flowing outlines, and glorious +lighting were the only things that caused the electrical effects to be +forgotten even momentarily. The clouds formed into a long, solid, +rounded range that rose to great height and was miles in length. The +southern end of this range was in the haze, and I could not make out +its outline further south than a point about opposite Loveland, +Colorado, nor could I see the northern end beyond a few miles north of +Cheyenne, where it was cut off by a dozen strata of low clouds that +moved steadily at a right angle to the east. Sixty miles of length was +visible. Its height, like that of the real mountains which it +paralleled, diminished toward the north. The place of greatest +altitude was about twenty-five miles distant from me. From my +location, the clouds presented a long and smoothly terraced slope, the +top of which was at least five thousand feet and may have been fifteen +thousand feet above me. The clouds seemed compact; at times they +surged upwards; then they would settle with a long, undulating swell, +as if some unseen power were trying to force them further up the +mountains, while they were afraid to try it. Finally a series of low, +conical peaks rose on the summit of the cloud-range, and the peaks and +the upper cloud-slope resembled the upper portion of a circus-tent. +There were no rough places or angles. + +When darkness came on, the surface of this cloud-range was at times +splendidly illuminated by electricity beneath; and, when the darkness +deepened, the electrical play beneath often caused the surface to +shine momentarily like incandescent glass, and occasionally sinuous +rivers of gold ran over the slopes. Several times I thought that the +course of these golden rivers of electrical fire was from the bottom +upward, but so brilliant and dazzling were they that I could not +positively decide on the direction of their movement. Never have I +seen such enormous cloud-forms or such brilliant electrical effects. + +The summit of Specimen Mountain, from which I watched the clouds and +electrical flashes, is about twelve thousand five hundred feet above +sea-level. A calm prevailed while I remained on top. It was about +8.30 P. M. when I left the summit, on snowshoes, and swept down the +steep northern slope into the woods. This hurry caused no unusual +heart or muscle action. + +The next morning was cloudy as low down as ten thousand five hundred +feet, and, for all I know, lower still. The night had been warm, and +the morning had the oppressive feeling that dominated the morning +before. The clouds broke up before nine o'clock, and the air, with +haze in it, seemed yellow. About 10.30, haze and, soon after, clouds +came in from the southeast (at this time I was high up on the +southerly slope of Mt. Richthofen), and by eleven o'clock the sky was +cloudy. Up to this time the air, when my snow-glasses were off, burned +and twitched my eyes in the same manner as on the previous morning. + +Early in the afternoon I left Grand Ditch Camp and started down to +Chambers Lake. I had not gone far when drops of rain began to fall +from time to time, and shortly after this my muscles began to twitch +occasionally under electrical ticklings. At times slight muscular +rigidity was noticeable. Just before two o'clock the clouds began to +burst through between the trees. I was at an altitude of about eleven +thousand feet and a short distance from the head of Trap Creek. Rain, +hail, and snow fell in turn, and the lightning began frequently to +strike the rocks. With the beginning of the lightning my muscles +ceased to be troubled with either twitching or rigidity. For the two +hours between 2 and 4 P. M. the crash and roll of thunder was +incessant. I counted twenty-three times that the lightning struck the +rocks, but I did not see it strike a tree. The clouds were low, and +the wind came from the east and the northeast, then from the west. + +[Illustration: A STORM ON THE ROCKIES] + +About four o'clock, I broke through the snow, tumbled into Trap Creek, +and had to swim a little. This stream was really very swift, and ran +in a narrow gulch, but it was blocked by snow and by tree-limbs swept +down by the flood, and a pond had been formed. It was crowded with a +deep deposit of snow which rested on a shelf of ice. This covering was +shattered and uplifted by the swollen stream, and I had slipped on the +top of the gulch and tumbled in. Once in, the swift water tugged at +me to pull me under; the cakes of snow and ice hampered me, and my +snowshoes were entangled with brush and limbs. The combination seemed +determined to drown me. For a few seconds I put forth all my efforts +to get at my pocket-knife. This accomplished, the fastenings of my +snowshoes were cut, and unhampered by these, I escaped the waters. + + * * * * * + +Since I have felt no ill results, the effect of the entire experience +may have been beneficial. The clouds, glorious as they had been in +formation and coloring, resulted in a terrible cloudburst. Enormous +quantities of water were poured out, and this, falling upon the +treeless foothills, rushed away to do more than a million dollars' +damage in the rich and beautiful Poudre Valley. + + + + +Climbing Long's Peak + + +Among the best days that I have had outdoors are the two hundred and +fifty-seven that were spent as a guide on Long's Peak. One day was +required from the starting-place near my cabin for each round trip to +the summit of the peak. Something of interest occurred to enliven each +one of these climbs: a storm, an accident, the wit of some one or the +enthusiasm of all the climbers. But the climb I remember with greatest +satisfaction is the one on which I guided Harriet Peters, an +eight-year-old girl, to the top. + +It was a cold morning when we started for the top, but it was this day +or wait until next season, for Harriet was to start for her Southern +home in a day or two and could not wait for a more favorable morning. +Harriet had spent the two preceding summers near my cabin, and around +it had played with the chipmunks and ridden the burros, and she had +made a few climbs with me up through the woods. We often talked of +going to the top of Long's Peak when she should become strong enough +to do so. This time came just after her eighth birthday. As I was as +eager to have her make the climb as she was to make it, we started up +the next morning after her aunt had given permission for her to go. +She was happy when I lifted her at last into the saddle, away up on +old "Top's" back. She was so small that I still wonder how she managed +to stay on, but she did so easily. + +Long's Peak is not only one of the most scenic of the peaks in the +Rocky Mountains, but it is probably the most rugged. From our +starting-place it was seven miles to the top; five of these miles may +be ridden, but the last two are so steep and craggy that one must go +on foot and climb. + +[Illustration: LONG'S PEAK FROM THE SUMMIT OF MT. MEEKER] + +After riding a little more than a mile, we came to a clear, cold brook +that is ever coming down in a great hurry over a steep mountain-side, +splashing, jumping, and falling over the boulders of one of nature's +stony stairways and forming white cascades which throw their spray +among the tall, dark pines. I had told Harriet that ouzels lived by +this brook; she was eager to see one, and we stopped at a promising +place by the brook to watch. In less than a minute one came flying +down the cascades, and so near to the surface of the water that he +seemed to be tumbling and sliding down with it. He alighted on a +boulder near us, made two or three pleasant curtsies, and started to +sing one of his low, sweet songs. He was doing the very thing of which +I had so often told Harriet. We watched and listened with breathless +interest. In the midst of the song he dived into the brook; in a +moment he came up with a water-bug in his bill, settled on the boulder +again, gave his nods, and resumed his song, seemingly at the point +where he left off. After a few low, sweet notes he broke off again and +plunged into the water. This time he came up quickly and alighted on +the spot he had just left, and went on with his song without any +preliminaries and as if there had been no interruption. + +The water-ouzel is found by the alpine lakes and brooks on the +mountains of the West. It is a modest-appearing bird, about the size +of a thrush, and wears a plain dress of slaty blue. This dress is +finished with a tail-piece somewhat like that of the wren, though it +is not upturned so much. The bird seems to love cascades, and often +nests by one. It also shows its fondness for water by often flying +along the brook, following every bend and break made by the stream, +keeping close to the water all the time and frequently touching it. +Over the quiet reaches it goes skimming; it plunges over the +waterfalls, alights on rocks in the rapids, goes dashing through the +spray, its every movement showing the ecstasies of eager life and joy +in the hurrying water. Our ouzel was quietly feeding on the edge of +the brook, when Harriet said good-bye as our ponies started up the +trail. + +Harriet had never been in school, but she could read, write, and sing. +She had good health, and a brighter, cheerier little girl I have never +seen. As we rode up the trail through the woods, the gray Douglas +squirrels were busy with the harvest. They were cutting off and +storing cones for winter food. In the treetops these squirrels seemed +to be bouncing and darting in all directions. One would cut off a +cone, then dart to the next, and so swiftly that cones were +constantly dropping. Frequently the cones struck limbs and bounded as +they fell, often coming to the ground to bounce and roll some distance +over the forest floor. An occasional one went rolling and bouncing +down the steep mountain-side with two or three happy chipmunks in +jolly pursuit. + +We watched one squirrel stow cones under trash and in holes in the +thick beds of needles. These cones were buried near a tree, in a +dead limb of which the squirrel had a hole and a home. Harriet asked +many questions concerning the cones,--why they were buried, how the +squirrel found them when they were buried in the snow, and what became +of those which were left buried. I told her that during the winter the +squirrel came down and dug through the snow to the cones and then fed +upon the nuts. I also told her that squirrels usually buried more +cones than were eaten. The uneaten cones, being left in the ground, +were in a way planted, and the nuts in them in time sprouted, and +young trees came peeping up among the fallen leaves. The squirrel's +way of observing Arbor Day makes him a useful forester. Harriet said +she would tell all her boy and girl friends what she knew of this +squirrel's tree-planting ways, and would ask her uncle not to shoot +the little tree-planter. + +As we followed the trail up through the woods, I told Harriet many +things concerning the trees, and the forces which influenced their +distribution and growth. While we were traveling westward in the +bottom of a gulch, I pointed out to her that the trees on the mountain +that rose on the right and sloped toward the south were of a different +kind from those on the mountain-side which rose on our left and sloped +toward the north. After traveling four miles and climbing up two +thousand feet above our starting-place, and, after from time to time +coming to and passing kinds of trees which did not grow lower down the +slopes, we at last came to timber-line, above which trees did not grow +at all. + +In North America between timber-line on the Rockies, at an altitude of +about eleven thousand feet, and sea-level on the Florida coast, there +are about six hundred and twenty kinds of trees and shrubs growing. +Each kind usually grows in the soil and clime that is best suited to +its requirements; in other words, most trees are growing where they +can do the best, or where they can do better than any other kind. Some +trees do the best at the moist seashore; some thrive in swamps; others +live only on the desert's edge; some live on the edge of a river; and +still others manage to endure the storms of bleak heights. + +At timber-line the trees have a hard time of it. All of them at this +place are dwarfed, many distorted, some crushed to the earth, +flattened out upon the ground like pressed flowers, by the snowdrifts +that have so long lain upon them. The winter winds at this place blow +almost constantly from the same quarter for days at a time, and often +attain a high velocity. The effect of these winds is strikingly shown +by the trees. None of the trees are tall, and most of them are +leaning, pushed partly over by the wind. Some are sprawled on the +ground like uncouth vines or spread out from the stump like a fan +with the onsweeping direction of the storms. Most of the standing, +unsheltered trees have limbs only on the leeward quarter, all the +other limbs having been blown off by the wind or cut off by the +wind-blown gravel. Most of the exposed trees are destitute of bark +on the portion of the trunk that faces these winter winds. Some of +the dead standing trees are carved into strange totem-poles by the +sand-blasts of many fierce storms. With all the trees warped or +distorted, the effect of timber-line is weird and strange. + +Harriet and I got off the ponies the better to examine some of the +storm-beaten trees. Harriet was attracted to a few dwarf spruces that +were standing in a drift of recently fallen snow. Although these +dwarfed little trees were more than a hundred years old, they were so +short that the little mountain-climber who stood by them was taller +than they. After stroking one of the trees with her hand, Harriet +stood for a time in silence, then out of her warm childish nature she +said, "What brave little trees to live up here where they have to +stand all the time in the snow!" Timber-line, with its strange tree +statuary and treeless snowy peaks and crags rising above it, together +with its many kinds of bird and animal life and its flower-fringed +snowdrifts, is one of nature's most expressive exhibits, and I wish +every one might visit it. At an altitude of about eleven thousand +seven hundred feet we came to the last tree. It was ragged, and so +small that you could have hidden it beneath a hat. It nestled up to a +boulder, and appeared so cold and pitiful that Harriet wanted to know +if it was lost. It certainly appeared as if it had been lost for a +long, long time. + +Among the crags Harriet and I kept sharp watch for mountain sheep, but +we did not see any. We were fortunate enough, however, to see a flock +of ptarmigan. These birds were huddled in a hole which narrowly +escaped being trampled on by Top. They walked quietly away, and we had +a good look at them. They were almost white; in winter they are pure +white, while in summer they are of a grayish brown. At all times +their dress matches the surroundings fairly well, so that they have +a protective coloring which makes it difficult for their enemies to +see them. + +At an altitude of twelve thousand five hundred feet the horses were +tied to boulders and left behind. From this place to the top of the +peak the way is too rough or precipitous for horses. For a mile +Harriet and I went forward over the boulders of an old moraine. The +last half-mile was the most difficult of all; the way was steep and +broken, and was entirely over rocks, which were covered with a few +inches of snow that had fallen during the night. + +We climbed slowly; all good climbers go slowly. Harriet also +faithfully followed another good mountain rule,--"Look before you +step." She did not fall, slip, or stumble while making the climb. Of +course we occasionally rested, and whenever we stopped near a flat +rock or a level place, we made use of it by lying down on our backs, +straightening out arms and legs, relaxing every muscle, and for a time +resting as loosely as possible. Just before reaching the top, we made +a long climb through the deepest snow that we had encountered. Though +the sun was warm, the air, rocks, and snow were cold. Not only was the +snow cold to the feet, but climbing through it was tiresome, and at +the first convenient place we stopped to rest. Finding a large, smooth +rock, we lay down on our backs side by side. We talked for a time and +watched an eagle soaring around up in the blue sky. I think Harriet +must have recalled a suggestion which I made at timber-line, for +without moving she suddenly remarked, "Mr. Mills, my feet are so cold +that I can't tell whether my toes are wiggling or not." + +Five hours after starting, Harriet stepped upon the top, the youngest +climber to scale Long's Peak. The top is fourteen thousand two hundred +and fifty-nine feet above the sea, is almost level, and, though rough, +is roomy enough for a baseball game. Of course if the ball went over +the edge, it would tumble a mile or so before stopping. With the top +so large, you will realize that the base measures miles across. The +upper three thousand feet of the peak is but a gigantic mass, almost +destitute of soil or vegetation. Some of the rocks are flecked and +spotted with lichens, and a few patches of moss and straggling, +beautiful alpine flowers can be found during August. There is but +little chance for snow to lodge, and for nearly three thousand feet +the peak rises a bald, broken, impressive stone tower. + +While Harriet and I were eating luncheon, a ground-hog that I had fed +on other visits came out to see if there was anything for him. Some +sparrows also lighted near; they looked hungry, so we left some bread +for them and then climbed upon the "tip-top," where our picture was +taken. + +From the tip-top we could see more than a hundred miles toward any +point of the compass. West of us we saw several streams that were +flowing away toward the Pacific; east of us the streams flowed to the +Atlantic. I told Harriet that the many small streams we saw all grew +larger as they neared the sea. Harriet lived at the "big" end of the +Arkansas River. She suddenly wanted to know if I could show her the +"little end of the Arkansas River." + +[Illustration: ON THE TIP-TOP OF LONG'S PEAK] + +After an hour on top we started downward and homeward, the little +mountain-climber feeling happy and lively. But she was careful, and +only once during the day did she slip, and this slip was hardly her +fault: we were coming off an enormous smooth boulder that was wet from +the new snow that was melting, when both Harriet's feet shot from +under her and she fell, laughing, into my arms. + +"Hello, Top, I am glad to see you," said Harriet when we came to the +horses. While riding homeward I told Harriet that I had often climbed +the peak by moonlight. On the way down she said good-bye to the little +trees at timber-line, the squirrels, and the ouzel. When I at last +lifted Harriet off old Top at the cabin, many people came out to greet +her. To all she said, "Yes, I'm tired, but some time I want to go up +by moonlight." + + + + +Midget, the Return Horse + + +In many of the Western mining-towns, the liverymen keep "return +horses,"--horses that will return to the barn when set at liberty, +whether near the barn or twenty miles away. These horses are the pick +of their kind. They have brains enough to take training readily, and +also to make plans of their own and get on despite the unexpected +hindrances that sometimes occur. When a return horse is ridden to a +neighboring town, he must know enough to find his way back, and he +must also be so well trained that he will not converse too long with +the horse he meets going in the opposite direction. + +The return horse is a result of the necessities of mountain sections, +especially the needs of miners. Most Western mining-towns are located +upon a flat or in a gulch. The mines are rarely near the town, but are +on the mountain-slopes above it. Out of town go a dozen roads or +trails that extend to the mines, from one to five miles away, and +much higher than the town. A miner does not mind walking down to the +town, but he wants to ride back; or the prospector comes in and wants +to take back a few supplies. The miner hires a return horse, rides it +to the mine, and then turns the horse loose. It at once starts to +return to the barn. If a horse meets a freight wagon coming up, it +must hunt for a turnout if the road is narrow, and give the wagon the +right of way. If the horse meets some one walking up, it must avoid +being caught. + +The San Juan mining section of southwestern Colorado has hundreds +of these horses. Most of the mines are from one thousand to three +thousand feet above the main supply-points, Ouray, Telluride, and +Silverton. Ouray and Telluride are not far apart by trail, but they +are separated by a rugged range that rises more than three thousand +feet above them. Men often go by trail from one of these towns to the +other, and in so doing usually ride a return horse to the top of the +range, then walk down the other side. + +[Illustration: A MINER ON A RETURN HORSE] + +"Be sure to turn Jim loose before you reach the summit; he won't +come back if you ride him even a short distance on the other side," +called a Telluride liveryman to me as I rode out of his barn. It seems +that the most faithful return horse may not come back if ridden far +down the slope away from home, but may stray down it rather than climb +again to the summit to return home. The rider is warned also to +"fasten up the reins and see that the cinches are tight" when he turns +the horse loose. If the cinches are loose, the saddle may turn when +the horse rolls; or if the reins are down, the horse may graze for +hours. Either loose reins or loose cinches may cripple a horse by +entangling his feet, or by catching on a snag in the woods. Once +loose, the horse generally starts off home on a trot. But he is not +always faithful. When a number of these horses are together, they +will occasionally play too long on the way. A great liking for grass +sometimes tempts them into a ditch, where they may eat grass even +though the reins are up. + +The lot of a return horse is generally a hard one. A usurper +occasionally catches a horse and rides him far away. Then, too often, +his owner blames him for the delay, and for a time gives him only +half-feed to "teach him not to fool along." Generally the return horse +must also be a good snow horse, able to flounder and willing to make +his way through deep drifts. He may be thirsty on a warm day, but he +must go all the way home before having a drink. Often, in winter, he +is turned loose at night on some bleak height to go back over a lonely +trail, a task which he does not like. Horses, like most animals and +like man, are not at ease when alone. A fallen tree across the trail +or deepened snow sometimes makes the horse's return journey a hard +one. On rare occasions, cinch or bridle gets caught on a snag or +around his legs, and cripples him or entangles him so that he falls +a victim to the unpitying mountain lion or some other carnivorous +animal. + +I have never met a return horse without stopping to watch it as +far as it could be seen. They always go along with such unconscious +confidence and quiet alertness that they are a delight to behold. Many +good days I have had in their company, and on more than one occasion +their alertness, skill, and strength have saved me either from injury +or from the clutches of that great white terror the snow-slide. + +The February morning that I rode "Midget" out of Alma began what +proved to be by far the most delightful association that I have ever +had with a return horse, and one of the happiest experiences with +nature and a dumb animal that has ever come into my life. + +I was in government experiment work as "State Snow Observer," and +wanted to make some observations on the summit peaks of the +"Twelve-Mile" and other ranges. Midget was to carry me far up the side +of these mountains to the summit of Hoosier Pass. A heavy snow had +fallen a few days before I started out. The wind had drifted most of +this out of the open and piled it deeply in the woods and gulches. +Midget galloped merrily away over the wind-swept ground. We came to +a gulch, I know not how deep, that was filled with snow, and here I +began to appreciate Midget. Across this gulch it was necessary for us +to go. The snow was so deep and so soft that I dismounted and put +on my snowshoes and started to lead Midget across. She followed +willingly. After a few steps, a flounder and a snort caused me to look +back, and all I could see of Midget was her two little ears wriggling +in the snow. When we reached the other side, Midget came out breathing +heavily, and at once shook her head to dislodge the snow from her +forehead and her ears. She was impatient to go on, and before I could +take off my snowshoes and strap them on my back, she was pawing the +ground impatiently, first with one little fore foot and then with the +other. I leaped into the saddle and away we went again. We had a very +pleasant morning of it. + +About eleven o'clock I dismounted to take a picture of the snowy slope +of Mt. Silverheels. Evidently Midget had never before seen a kodak. +She watched with extraordinary interest the standing of the little +three-legged affair upon the ground and the mounting of the small +black box upon it. She pointed her ears at it; tilted her head to one +side and moved her nose up and down. I moved away from her several +feet to take the picture. She eyed the kodak with such intentness that +I invited her to come over and have a look at it. She came at once, +turning her head and neck to one side to prevent the bridle-reins, +which I had thrown upon the ground, from entangling her feet. Once by +me, she looked the kodak and tripod over with interest, smelled of +them, but was careful not to strike the tripod with her feet or to +overturn it and the kodak with her nose. She seemed so interested that +I told her all about what I was doing,--what I was taking a picture +of, why I was taking it, and how long an exposure I was going to give +it; and finally I said to her: "To-morrow, Midget, when you are back +in your stall in the barn at Alma, eating oats, I shall be on the +other side of Mt. Silverheels, taking pictures there. Do you +understand?" She pawed the ground with her right fore foot with +such a satisfied look upon her face that I was sure she thought +she understood all about it. + +From time to time I took other pictures, and after the first +experience Midget did not wait to be invited to come over and watch +me, but always followed me to every new spot where I set the tripod +and kodak down, and on each occasion I talked freely with her, and +she seemed to understand and to be much interested. + +Shortly after noon, when I was taking a picture, Midget managed to +get her nose into my mammoth outside coat-pocket. There she found +something to her liking. It was my habit to eat lightly when rambling +about the mountains, often eating only once a day, and occasionally +going two or three days without food. I had a few friends who were +concerned about me, and who were afraid I might some time starve to +death. So, partly as a joke and partly in earnest, they would mail me +a package of something to eat, whenever they knew at what post-office +I was likely to turn up. At Alma, the morning I hired Midget, the +prize package which I drew from the post-office contained salted +peanuts. I did not care for them, but put them into my pocket. It was +past noon and Midget was hungry. I was chattering away to her about +picture-taking when, feeling her rubbing me with her nose, I put my +hand around to find that she was eating salted peanuts from my big +coat-pocket. Midget enjoyed them so much that I allowed her to put +her nose into my pocket and help herself, and from time to time, too, +I gave her a handful of them until they were all gone. + +Late in the afternoon, Midget and I arrived at the top of Hoosier +Pass. I told her to look tired and I would take her picture. She +dropped her head and neck a little, and there on the wind-swept pass, +with the wind-swept peaks in the background, I photographed her. Then +I told her it was time to go home, that it was sure to be after dark +before she could get back. So I tightened the cinches, fastened up the +bridle-rein over the horn of the saddle, and told her to go. She +looked around at me, but did not move. Evidently she preferred to stay +with me. So I spoke to her sternly and said, "Midget, you will have +to go home!" Without even looking round, she kicked up her heels and +trotted speedily down the mountain and disappeared. I did not imagine +that we would meet again for some time. + +I went on, and at timber-line on Mt. Lincoln I built a camp-fire and +without bedding spent the night by it. The next day I climbed several +peaks, took many photographs, measured many snowdrifts, and made many +notes in my notebook. When night came on, I descended from the crags +and snows into the woods, built a fire, and spent the night by it, +sleeping for a little while at a time. Awakening with the cold, I +would get up and revive my fire, and then lie down to sleep. The next +day a severe storm came on, and I was compelled to huddle by my fire +all day, for the wind was so fierce and the snow so blinding that it +would have been extremely risky to try to cross the craggy and +slippery mountain-summits. All that day I stayed by the fire, but that +night, instead of trying to get a little sleep there, I crawled into a +newly formed snowdrift, and in it slept soundly and quite comfortably +until morning. Toward noon the storm ceased, but it had delayed me a +day. I had brought with me only a pound of raisins, and had eaten +these during the first two days. I felt rather hungry, and almost +wished I had saved some of the salted peanuts that I had given Midget, +but I felt fresh and vigorous, and joyfully I made my way over the +snowy crest of the continent. + +Late that night I came into the mining-town of Leadville. At the hotel +I found letters and a telegram awaiting me. This telegram told me that +it was important for me to come to the Pike's Peak National Forest at +the earliest possible moment. + +After a light supper and an hour's rest, I again tied on my snowshoes, +and at midnight started to climb. The newly fallen snow on the steep +mountain-side was soft and fluffy. I sank so deeply into it and made +such slow progress that it was late in the afternoon of the next day +before I reached timber-line on the other side. The London mine lay a +little off my course, and knowing that miners frequently rode return +horses up to it, I thought that by going to the mine I might secure a +return horse to carry me back to Alma, which was about thirteen miles +away. With this in mind, I started off in a hurry. In my haste I +caught one of my webbed shoes on the top of a gnarly, storm-beaten +tree that was buried and hidden in the snow. I fell, or rather dived, +into the snow, and in so doing broke a snowshoe and lost my hat. This +affair delayed me a little, and I gave up going to the mine, but +concluded to go to the trail about a mile below it, and there +intercept the first return horse that came down. Just before I reached +the trail, I heard a horse coming. + +As this trail was constantly used, the snow was packed down, while the +untrampled snow on each side of it lay from two to four feet deep. +Seeing that this pony was going to get past before I could reach the +trail, I stopped, took a breath, and called out to it. When I said, +"Hello, pony," the pony did not hello. Instead of slackening its pace, +it seemed to increase it. Knowing that this trail was one that Midget +had often to cover, I concluded as a forlorn hope to call her name, +thinking that the pony might be Midget. So I called out, "Hello, +Midget!" The pony at once stopped, looked all around, and gave a +delighted little whinny. It was Midget! The instant she saw me, she +tried to climb up out of the trail into the deep snow where I was, but +I hastened to prevent her. Leaping down by her side, I put my arm +around her neck, and told her that I was very glad to see her, and +that I wanted to ride to Alma. Her nose found its way into my +coat-pocket. "Well, Midget, it is too bad. Really, I was not +expecting to see you, and I haven't a single salted peanut, but if you +will just allow me to ride this long thirteen miles into Alma, I will +give you all the salted peanuts that you will be allowed to eat. I am +tired, and should very much like to have a ride. Will you take me?" +She at once started to paw the snowy trail with a small fore foot, as +much as to say, "Hurry up!" I took off my snowshoes, and without +waiting to fasten them on my back, jumped into the saddle. In a +surprisingly short time, and with loud stamping on the floor, Midget +carried me into the livery barn at Alma. + +When her owner saw a man in the saddle, he was angry, and reminded me +that it was unfair and illegal to capture a return horse; but when he +recognized me, he at once changed his tone, and he became friendly +when I told him that Midget had invited me to ride. He said that as +she had invited me to ride I should have to pay the damages to her. +I told him that we had already agreed to this. "But how in thunder +did you catch her?" he asked. "Yesterday Pat O'Brien tried that, +and he is now in the hospital with two broken ribs. She kicked him." + +I said good-bye to Midget, and went to my supper, leaving her +contentedly eating salted peanuts. + + + + +Faithful Scotch + + +I carried little Scotch all day long in my overcoat pocket as I rode +through the mountains on the way to my cabin. His cheerful, cunning +face, his good behavior, and the clever way in which he poked his +head out of my pocket, licked my hand, and looked at the scenery, +completely won my heart before I had ridden an hour. That night he +showed so strikingly the strong, faithful characteristics for which +collies are noted that I resolved never to part with him. Since then +we have had great years together. We have been hungry and happy +together, and together we have played by the cabin, faced danger in +the wilds, slept peacefully among the flowers, followed the trails +by starlight, and cuddled down in winter's drifting snow. + +On my way home through the mountains with puppy Scotch, I stopped for +a night near a deserted ranch-house and shut him up in a small +abandoned cabin. He at once objected and set up a terrible barking and +howling, gnawing fiercely at the crack beneath the door and trying to +tear his way out. Fearing he would break his little puppy teeth, or +possibly die from frantic and persistent efforts to be free, I +concluded to release him from the cabin. My fears that he would run +away if left free were groundless. He made his way to my saddle, which +lay on the ground near by, crawled under it, turned round beneath it, +and thrust his little head from beneath the arch of the horn and lay +down with a look of contentment, and also with an air which said, +"I'll take care of this saddle. I'd like to see any one touch it." + +[Illustration: SCOTCH NEAR TIMBER LINE] + +And watch it he did. At midnight a cowboy came to my camp-fire. He had +been thrown from his bronco and was making back to his outfit on foot. +In approaching the fire his path lay close to my saddle, beneath which +Scotch was lying. Tiny Scotch flew at him ferociously; never have I +seen such faithful ferociousness in a dog so small and young. I took +him in my hands and assured him that the visitor was welcome, and in +a moment little Scotch and the cowboy were side by side gazing at +the fire. + +I suppose his bravery and watchful spirit may be instinct inherited +from his famous forbears who lived so long and so cheerfully on +Scotland's heaths and moors. But, with all due respect for inherited +qualities, he also has a brain that does a little thinking and meets +emergencies promptly and ably. + +He took serious objection to the coyotes which howled, serenaded, and +made merry in the edge of the meadow about a quarter of a mile from my +cabin. Just back of their howling-ground was a thick forest of pines, +in which were scores of broken rocky crags. Into the tangled forest +the coyotes always retreated when Scotch gave chase, and into this +retreat he dared not pursue them. So long as the coyotes sunned +themselves, kept quiet, and played, Scotch simply watched them +contentedly from afar; but the instant they began to howl and yelp, he +at once raced over and chased them into the woods. They often yelped +and taunted him from their safe retreat, but Scotch always took pains +to lie down on the edge of the open and remain there until they became +quiet or went away. + +During the second winter that Scotch was with me and before he was two +years of age, one of the wily coyotes showed a tantalizing spirit and +some interesting cunning which put Scotch on his mettle. One day when +Scotch was busy driving the main pack into the woods, one that trotted +lame with the right fore leg emerged from behind a rocky crag at the +edge of the open and less than fifty yards from Scotch. Hurrying to +a willow clump about fifty yards in Scotch's rear, he set up a broken +chorus of yelps and howls, seemingly with delight and to the great +annoyance of Scotch, who at once raced back and chased the noisy +taunter into the woods. + +The very next time that Scotch was chasing the pack away, the crippled +coyote again sneaked from behind the crag, took refuge behind the +willow clump, and began delivering a perfect shower of broken yelps. +Scotch at once turned back and gave chase. Immediately the entire pack +wheeled from retreat and took up defiant attitudes in the open, but +this did not seem to trouble Scotch; he flung himself upon them with +great ferocity, and finally drove them all back into the woods. +However, the third time that the cunning coyote had come to his rear, +the entire pack stopped in the edge of the open and, for a time, +defied him. He came back from this chase panting and tired and +carrying every expression of worry. It seemed to prey upon him to +such an extent that I became a little anxious about him. + +One day, just after this affair, I went for the mail, and allowed +Scotch to go with me. I usually left him at the cabin, and he stayed +unchained and was faithful, though it was always evident that he was +anxious to go with me and also that he was exceedingly lonely when +left behind. But on this occasion he showed such eagerness to go that +I allowed him the pleasure. + +At the post-office he paid but little attention to the dogs which, +with their masters, were assembled there, and held himself aloof from +them, squatting on the ground with head erect and almost an air of +contempt for them, but it was evident that he was watching their every +move. When I started homeward, he showed great satisfaction by leaping +and barking. + +That night was wildly stormy, and I concluded to go out and enjoy the +storm on some wind-swept crags. Scotch was missing and I called him, +but he did not appear, so I went alone. After being tossed by the wind +for more than an hour, I returned to the cabin, but Scotch was still +away. This had never occurred before, so I concluded not to go to bed +until he returned. He came home after daylight, and was accompanied by +another dog,--a collie, which belonged to a rancher who lived about +fifteen miles away. I remembered to have seen this dog at the +post-office the day before. My first thought was to send the dog home, +but I finally concluded to allow him to remain, to see what would come +of his presence, for it was apparent that Scotch had gone for him. He +appropriated Scotch's bed in the tub, to the evident satisfaction of +Scotch. During the morning the two played together in the happiest +possible manner for more than an hour. At noon I fed them together. + +In the afternoon, while I was writing, I heard the varied voices of +the coyote pack, and went out with my glass to watch proceedings, +wondering how the visiting collie would play his part. There went +Scotch, as I supposed, racing for the yelping pack, but the visiting +collie was not to be seen. The pack beat the usual sullen, scattering +retreat, and while the dog, which I supposed to be Scotch, was chasing +the last slow tormenter into the woods, from behind the crag came the +big limping coyote, hurrying toward the willow clump from behind which +he was accustomed to yelp triumphantly in Scotch's rear. I raised the +glass for a better look, all the time wondering where the visiting +collie was keeping himself. I was unable to see him, yet I recollected +he was with Scotch less than an hour before. + +The lame coyote came round the willow clump as usual, and threw up his +head as though to bay at the moon. Then the unexpected happened. On +the instant, Scotch leaped into the air out of the willow clump, and +came down upon the coyote's back! They rolled about for some time, +when the coyote finally shook himself free and started at a lively +limping pace for the woods, only to be grabbed again by the visiting +collie, which had been chasing the pack, and which I had mistaken for +Scotch. The pack beat a swift retreat. For a time both dogs fought +the coyote fiercely, but he at last tore himself free, and escaped +into the pines, badly wounded and bleeding. I never saw him again. +That night the visiting collie went home. As Scotch was missing that +night for a time, I think he may have accompanied him at least a part +of the way. + +One day a young lady from Michigan came along and wanted to climb +Long's Peak all alone, without a guide. I agreed to consent to this +if first she would climb one of the lesser peaks unaided, on a stormy +day. This the young lady did, and by so doing convinced me that she +had a keen sense of direction and an abundance of strength, for the +day on which she climbed was a stormy one, and the peak was completely +befogged with clouds. After this, there was nothing for me to do but +allow her to climb Long's Peak alone. + +Just as she was starting, that cool September morning, I thought to +provide for an emergency by sending Scotch with her. He knew the trail +well and would, of course, lead her the right way, providing she lost +the trail. "Scotch," said I, "go with this young lady, take good care +of her, and stay with her till she returns. Don't you desert her." He +gave a few barks of satisfaction and started with her up the trail, +carrying himself in a manner which indicated that he was both honored +and pleased. I felt that the strength and alertness of the young lady, +when combined with the faithfulness and watchfulness of Scotch, would +make the journey a success, so I went about my affairs as usual. When +darkness came on that evening, the young lady had not returned. + +She climbed swiftly until she reached the rocky alpine moorlands above +timber-line. Here she lingered long to enjoy the magnificent scenery +and the brilliant flowers. It was late in the afternoon when she +arrived at the summit of the peak. After she had spent a little time +there resting and absorbing the beauty and grandeur of the scene, she +started to return. She had not proceeded far when clouds and darkness +came on, and on a slope of slide-rock she lost the trail. + +Scotch had minded his own affairs and enjoyed himself in his own way +all day long. Most of the time he followed her closely, apparently +indifferent to what happened, but when she, in the darkness, left the +trail and started off in the wrong direction, he at once came forward, +and took the lead with an alert, aggressive air. The way in which he +did this should have suggested to the young lady that he knew what he +was about, but she did not appreciate this fact. She thought he had +become weary and wanted to run away from her, so she called him back. +Again she started in the wrong direction; this time Scotch got in +front of her and refused to move. She pushed him out of the way. Once +more he started off in the right direction, and this time she scolded +him and reminded him that his master had told him not to desert her. +Scotch dropped his ears and sheepishly fell in behind her and followed +meekly along. He had obeyed orders. + +After traveling a short distance, the young lady realized that she had +lost her way, but it never occurred to her that she had only to trust +Scotch and he would lead her directly home. However, she had the good +sense to stop where she was, and there, among the crags, by the +stained remnants of winter's snow, thirteen thousand feet above +sea-level, she was to spend the night. The cold wind blew a gale, +roaring and booming among the crags, the alpine brooklet turned to +ice, while, in the lee of the crag, shivering with cold, hugging +shaggy Scotch in her arms, she lay down for the night. + +I had given my word not to go in search of her if she failed to +return. However, I sent out four guides to look for her. They suffered +much from cold as they vainly searched among the crags through the +dark hours of the windy night. Just at sunrise one of them found her, +almost exhausted, but, with slightly frost-bitten fingers, still +hugging Scotch in her arms. He gave her food and drink and additional +wraps, and without delay started with her down the trail. As soon as +she was taken in charge by the guide, patient Scotch left her and +hurried home. He had saved her life. + +Scotch's hair is long and silky, black with a touch of tawny about the +head and a little bar of white on the nose. He has the most expressive +and pleasing dog's face I have ever seen. There is nothing he enjoys +so well as to have some one kick the football for him. For an hour at +a time he will chase it and try to get hold of it, giving an +occasional eager, happy bark. He has good eyes, and these, with his +willingness to be of service, have occasionally made him useful to me +in finding articles which I, or some one else, had forgotten or lost +on the trail. Generally it is difficult to make him understand just +what has been lost or where he is to look for it, but when once he +understands, he keeps up the search, sometimes for hours if he does +not find the article before. He is always faithful in guarding any +object that I ask him to take care of. I have but to throw down a coat +and point at it, and he will at once lie down near by, there to remain +until I come to dismiss him. He will allow no one else to touch it. +His attitude never fails to convey the impression that he would die +in defense of the thing intrusted to him, but desert it or give it +up, never! + +One February day I took Scotch and started up Long's Peak, hoping to +gain its wintry summit. Scotch easily followed in my snowshoe-tracks. +At an altitude of thirteen thousand feet on the wind-swept steeps +there was but little snow, and it was necessary to leave snowshoes +behind. After climbing a short distance on these icy slopes, I became +alarmed for the safety of Scotch. By and by I had to cut steps in the +ice. This made the climb too perilous for him, as he could not realize +the danger he was in should he miss a step. There were places where +slipping from these steps meant death, so I told Scotch to go back. I +did not, however, tell him to watch my snowshoes, for so dangerous was +the climb that I did not know that I should ever get back to them +myself. However, he went to the snowshoes, and with them he remained +for eight cold hours until I came back by the light of the stars. + +On a few occasions I allowed Scotch to go with me on short winter +excursions. He enjoyed these immensely, although he had a hard time +of it and but very little to eat. When we camped among the spruces in +the snow, he seemed to enjoy sitting by my side and silently watching +the evening fire, and he contentedly cuddled with me to keep warm +at night. + +[Illustration: THE CLOUD-CAPPED CONTINENTAL DIVIDE] + +One cold day we were returning from a four days' excursion when, a +little above timber-line, I stopped to take some photographs. To do +this it was necessary for me to take off my sheepskin mittens, which I +placed in my coat-pocket, but not securely, as it proved. From time to +time, as I climbed to the summit of the Continental Divide, I stopped +to take photographs, but on the summit the cold pierced my silk gloves +and I felt for my mittens, to find that one of them was lost. I +stooped, put an arm around Scotch, and told him I had lost a mitten, +and that I wanted him to go down for it to save me the trouble. "It +won't take you very long, but it will be a hard trip for me. Go and +fetch it to me." Instead of starting off hurriedly, willingly, as he +had invariably done before in obedience to my commands, he stood +still. His alert, eager ears drooped, but no other move did he make. +I repeated the command in my most kindly tones. At this, instead of +starting down the mountain for the mitten, he slunk slowly away toward +home. It was clear that he did not want to climb down the steep icy +slope of a mile to timber-line, more than a thousand feet below. I +thought he had misunderstood me, so I called him back, patted him, and +then, pointing down the slope, said, "Go for the mitten, Scotch; I +will wait here for you." He started for it, but went unwillingly. He +had always served me so cheerfully that I could not understand, and it +was not until late the next afternoon that I realized that he had not +understood me, but that he had loyally, and at the risk of his life, +tried to obey me. + +The summit of the Continental Divide, where I stood when I sent him +back, was a very rough and lonely region. On every hand were broken +snowy peaks and rugged caņons. My cabin, eighteen miles away, was the +nearest house to it, and the region was utterly wild. I waited a +reasonable time for Scotch to return, but he did not come back. +Thinking he might have gone by without my seeing him, I walked some +distance along the summit, first in one direction and then in the +other, but, seeing neither him nor his tracks, I knew that he had not +yet come back. As it was late in the afternoon, and growing colder, +I decided to go slowly on toward my cabin. I started along a route that +I felt sure he would follow, and I reasoned that he would overtake me. +Darkness came on and still no Scotch, but I kept going forward. For +the remainder of the way I told myself that he might have got by me +in the darkness. + +When, at midnight, I arrived at the cabin, I expected to be greeted by +him, but he was not there. I felt that something was wrong and feared +that he had met with an accident. I slept two hours and rose, but +still he was missing, so I concluded to tie on my snowshoes and go +to meet him. The thermometer showed fourteen below zero. + +I started at three o'clock in the morning, feeling that I should meet +him without going far. I kept going on and on, and when, at noon, +I arrived at the place on the summit from which I had sent him back, +Scotch was not there to cheer the wintry, silent scene. + +I slowly made my way down the slope, and at two in the afternoon, +twenty-four hours after I had sent Scotch back, I paused on a crag and +looked below. There in the snowy world of white he lay by the mitten +in the snow. He had misunderstood me, and had gone back to guard the +mitten instead of to get it. He could hardly contain himself for joy +when he saw me. He leaped into the air, barked, jumped, rolled over, +licked my hand, whined, grabbed the mitten, raced round and round me, +and did everything that an alert, affectionate, faithful dog could do +to show that he appreciated my appreciation of his supremely faithful +services. + +After waiting for him to eat a luncheon, we started merrily towards +home, where we arrived at one o'clock in the morning. Had I not +returned, I suppose Scotch would have died beside the mitten. In a +region cold, cheerless, oppressive, without food, and perhaps to die, +he lay down by the mitten because he understood that I had told him +to. In the annals of dog heroism, I know of no greater deed. + + + + +Bob and Some Other Birds + + +Birds are plentiful on the Rockies, and the accumulating information +concerning them may, in a few years, accredit Colorado with having +more kinds of birds than any other State. The mountains and plains of +Colorado carry a wide range of geographic conditions,--a variety of +life-zones,--and in many places there is an abundance of bird-food of +many kinds. These conditions naturally produce a large variety of +birds throughout the State. + +Notwithstanding this array of feathered inhabitants, most tourists who +visit the West complain of a scarcity of birds. But birds the Rockies +have, and any bird-student could tell why more of them are not seen by +tourists. The loud manners of most tourists who invade the Rockies +simply put the birds to flight. When I hear the approach of tourists +in the wilds, I feel instinctively that I should fly for safety +myself. "Our little brothers of the air" the world over dislike the +crowd, and will linger only for those who come with deliberation +and quiet. + +This entire mountain-section, from foothills to mountain-summits, +is enlivened in nesting-time with scores of species of birds. Low +down on the foothills one will find Bullock's oriole, the red-headed +woodpecker, the Arkansas kingbird, and one will often see, and more +often hear, the clear, strong notes of the Western meadowlark ringing +over the hills and meadows. The wise, and rather murderous, magpie +goes chattering about. Here and there the quiet bluebird is seen. The +kingfisher is in his appointed place. Long-crested jays, Clarke's +crows, and pigmy nuthatches are plentiful, and the wild note of the +chickadee is heard on every hand. Above the altitude of eight thousand +feet you may hear, in June, the marvelous melody of Audubon's hermit +thrush. + +Along the brooks and streams lives the water-ouzel. This is one of the +most interesting and self-reliant of Rocky Mountain birds. It loves +the swift, cool mountain-streams. It feeds in them, nests within reach +of the splash of their spray, closely follows their bent and sinuous +course in flight, and from an islanded boulder mingles its liquid song +with the music of the moving waters. There is much in the life of the +ouzel that is refreshing and inspiring. I wish it were better known. + +Around timber-line in summer one may hear the happy song of the +white-throated sparrow. Here and above lives the leucosticte. Far +above the vanguard of the brave pines, where the brilliant flowers +fringe the soiled remnants of winter's drifted snow, where sometimes +the bees hum and the painted butterflies sail on easy wings, the +broad-tailed hummingbird may occasionally be seen, while still higher +the eagles soar in the quiet bending blue. On the heights, sometimes +nesting at an altitude of thirteen thousand feet, is found the +ptarmigan, which, like the Eskimo, seems supremely contented in the +land of crags and snows. + +Of all the birds on the Rockies, the one most marvelously eloquent is +the solitaire. I have often felt that everything stood still and that +every beast and bird listened while the matchless solitaire sang. The +hermit thrush seems to suppress one, to give one a touch of reflective +loneliness; but the solitaire stirs one to be up and doing, gives +one the spirit of youth. In the solitaire's song one feels all the +freshness and the promise of spring. The song seems to be born of ages +of freedom beneath peaceful skies, of the rhythm of the universe, of a +mingling of the melody of winds and waters and of all rhythmic sounds +that murmur and echo out of doors and of every song that Nature sings +in the wild gardens of the world. I am sure I have never been more +thoroughly wide awake and hopeful than when listening to the +solitaire's song. The world is flushed with a diviner atmosphere, +every object carries a fresher significance, there are new thoughts +and clear, calm hopes sure to be realized on the enchanted fields of +the future. I was camping alone one evening in the deep solitude +of the Rockies. The slanting sun-rays were glowing on St. Vrain's +crag-crowned hills and everything was at peace, when, from a near-by +treetop came the triumphant, hopeful song of a solitaire, and I forgot +all except that the world was young. One believes in fairies when the +solitaire sings. Some of my friends have predicted that I shall some +time meet with an accident and perish in the solitudes alone. If their +prediction should come true, I shall hope it will be in the +summer-time, while the flowers are at their best, and that during my +last conscious moments I shall hear the melody of the solitaire +singing as I die with the dying day. + +I sat for hours in the woods one day, watching a pair of chickadees +feeding their young ones. There were nine of these hungry midgets, +and, like nine small boys, they not only were always hungry, but were +capable of digesting everything. They ate spiders and flies, green +worms, ants, millers, dirty brown worms, insect-eggs by the dozen, +devil's-darning-needles, woodlice, bits of lichen, grasshoppers, and +I know not how many other things. I could not help thinking that when +one family of birds destroyed such numbers of injurious insects, if +all the birds were to stop eating, the insects would soon destroy +every green tree and plant on earth. + +One of the places where I used to camp to enjoy the flowers, the +trees, and the birds was on the shore of a glacier lake. Near the lake +were eternal snows, rugged gorges, and forests primeval. To its shore, +especially in autumn, came many bird callers. I often screened myself +in a dense clump of fir trees on the north shore to study the manners +of birds which came near. To help attract and detain them, I scattered +feed on the shore, and I spent interesting hours and days in my +hiding-place enjoying the etiquette of birds at feast and frolic. + +I was lying in the sun, one afternoon, just outside my fir clump, +gazing out across the lake, when a large black bird alighted on the +shore some distance around the lake. "Surely," I said to myself, "that +is a crow." A crow I had not seen or heard of in that part of the +country. I wanted to call to him that he was welcome to eat at my +free-lunch counter, when it occurred to me that I was in plain sight. +Before I could move, the bird rose in the air and started flying +leisurely toward me. I hoped he would see, or smell, the feed and +tarry for a time; but he rose as he advanced, and as he appeared to +be looking ahead, I had begun to fear he would go by without stopping, +when he suddenly wheeled and at the same instant said "Hurrah," as +distinctly as I have ever heard it spoken, and dropped to the feed. +The clearness, energy, and unexpectedness of his "Hurrah" startled +me. He alighted and began to eat, evidently without suspecting my +presence, notwithstanding the fact that I lay only a few feet away. +Some days before, a mountain lion had killed a mountain sheep; a part +of this carcass I had dragged to my bird table. Upon this the crow, +for such he was, alighted and fed ravenously for some time. Then he +paused, straightened up, and took a look about. His eye fell on me, +and instantly he squatted as if to hurl himself in hurried flight, but +he hesitated, then appeared as if starting to burst out with "Caw" or +some such exclamation, but changed his mind and repressed it. Finally +he straightened and fixed himself for another good look at me. I did +not move, and my clothes must have been a good shade of protective +coloring, for he seemed to conclude that I was not worth considering. +He looked straight at me for a few seconds, uttered another "Hurrah," +which he emphasized with a defiant gesture, and went on energetically +eating. In the midst of this, something alarmed him, and he flew +swiftly away and did not come back. Was this crow a pet that had +concluded to strike out for himself? Or had his mimicry or his habit +of laying hold of whatever pleased him caused him to appropriate this +word from bigger folk? + +Go where you will over the Rockies and the birds will be with you. One +day I spent several hours on the summit of Long's Peak, and while +there twelve species of birds alighted or passed near enough for me to +identify them. One of these birds was an eagle, another a hummingbird. + +[Illustration: PTARMIGAN] + +On a June day, while the heights were more than half covered with +winter's snow, I came across the nest of a ptarmigan near a drift and +at an altitude of thirteen thousand feet above sea-level. The +ptarmigan, with their home above tree-line, amid eternal snows, are +wonderfully self-reliant and self-contained. The ouzel, too, is +self-poised, indifferent to all the world but his brook, and +showing an appreciation for water greater, I think, than that of any +other landsman. These birds, the ptarmigan and the ouzel, along with +the willow thrush, who sings out his melody amid the shadows of the +pines, who puts his woods into song,--these birds of the mountains are +with me when memory takes me back a solitary visitor to the lonely +places of the Rockies. + +The birds of the Rockies, as well as the bigger folk who live there, +have ways of their own which distinguish them from their kind in the +East. They sing with more enthusiasm, but with the same subtle tone +that everywhere tells that all is right with the world, and makes all +to the manner born glad to be alive. + +Nothing delights me more than to come across a person who is +interested in trees; and I have long thought that any one who +appreciates trees or birds is one who is either good or great, or +both. I consider it an honor to converse with one who knows the birds +and the trees, and have more than once gone out of my way to meet one +of those favored mortals. I remember one cold morning I came down off +the mountains and went into a house to get warm. Rather I went in to +scrape an acquaintance with whomsoever could be living there who +remembered the birds while snow and cold prevailed,--when Nature +forgot. To get warm was a palpable excuse. I was not cold; I had no +need to stop; I simply wanted to meet the people who had, on this day +at least, put out food and warm water for the birds; but I have ever +since been glad that I went in, for the house shielded from the +cold a family whom it is good to know, and, besides making their +acquaintance, I met "Bob" and heard her story. + +Every one in the house was fond of pets. Rex, a huge St. Bernard, +greeted me at the door, and with a show of satisfaction accompanied me +to a chair near the stove. In going to the chair some forlorn +snowbirds, "that Sarah had found nearly frozen while out feeding the +birds this morning," hopped out of my way. As I sat down, I noticed an +old sack on the floor against the wall before me. All at once this +sack came to life, had an idea, or was bewitched, I thought. Anyway it +became so active that it held my attention for several seconds, and +gave me a little alarm. I was relieved when out of it tumbled an +aggressive rooster, which advanced a few steps, flapped, and crowed +lustily. "He was brought in to get thawed out; I suppose you will next +be wondering where we keep the pig," said my hostess as she advanced +to stir the fire, after which she examined "two little cripples," +birds in a box behind the stove. + +I moved to a cooler seat, by a door which led into an adjoining room. +After I had sat down, "Bob," a pet quail, came from somewhere, and +advanced with the most serene and dignified air to greet me. After +pausing to eye me for a moment, with a look of mingled curiosity and +satisfaction, she went under my chair and squatted confidingly on the +floor. Bob was the first pet quail I had ever seen, and my questions +concerning her brought from my hostess the following story:-- + +"One day last fall a flock of quail became frightened, and in their +excited flight one struck against a neighbor's window and was badly +stunned. My husband, who chanced to be near at the time, picked up the +injured one and brought it home. My three daughters, who at times had +had pet horses, snakes, turtles, and rats, welcomed this shy little +stranger and at once set about caring for her injuries. Just before +"Bob" had fully recovered, there came a heavy fall of snow, which was +followed by such a succession of storms that we concluded to keep her +with us, provided she was willing to stay. We gave her the freedom of +the house. For some time she was wild and shy; under a chair or the +lounge she would scurry if any one approached her. Plainly, she did +not feel welcome or safe in our house, and I gave up the idea of +taming her. One day, however, we had lettuce for dinner, and while we +were at the table Sarah, my eldest daughter, who has a gift for taming +and handling wild creatures, declared that Bob should eat out of her +hand before night. All that afternoon she tempted her with bits of +lettuce, and when evening came, had succeeded so well that never after +was Bob afraid of us. Whenever we sat down for a meal, Bob would come +running and quietly go in turn to each with coaxing sounds and +pleading looks, wanting to be fed. It was against the rules to feed +her at meals, but first one, then another, would slip something to +her under the table, trying at the same time to appear innocent. The +girls have always maintained that their mother, who made the rule, was +the first one to break it. No one could resist Bob's pretty, dainty, +coaxing ways. + +"She is particularly fond of pie-crust, and many a time I have found +the edge picked off the pie I had intended for dinner. Bob never fails +to find a pie, if one is left uncovered. I think it is the shortening +in the pie-crust that gives it the delicious flavor, for lard she +prefers above all of her many foods. She cares least of all for grain. +My daughters say that Bob's fondness for graham gems accounts for the +frequency of their recent appearances on our table. + +"After trying many places, Bob at last found a roosting-place that +suited her. This was in a leather collar-box on the bureau, where +she could nestle up close to her own image in the mirror. Since +discovering this place she has never failed to occupy it at night. +She is intelligent, and in so many ways pleasing that we are greatly +attached to her." + +Here I had to leave Bob and her good friends behind; but some months +afterward my hostess of that winter day told me the concluding +chapters of Bob's life. + +"Bob disliked to be handled; though pleasing and irresistibly winsome, +she was not in the least affectionate, and always maintained a +dignified, ladylike reserve. But with the appearance of spring she +showed signs of lonesomeness. With none of her kind to love, she +turned to Rex and on him lavished all of her affection. When Rex was +admitted to the house of a morning, she ran to meet him with a joyful +cackle,--an utterance she did not use on any other occasion,--and with +soft cooing sounds she followed him about the house. If Rex appeared +bored with her attentions and walked away, she followed after, and +persisted in tones that were surely scolding until he would lie down. +Whenever he lay with his huge head between his paws, she would nestle +down close to his face and remain content so long as he was quiet. +Sometimes when he was lying down she would climb slowly over him; at +each step she would put her foot down daintily, and as each foot +touched him there was a slight movement of her head and a look of +satisfaction. These climbs usually ended by her scratching in the +long hair of his tail, and then nestling down into it. + +"One day I was surprised to see her kiss Rex. When I told my family of +this, they laughed heartily and were unable to believe me. Later, we +all witnessed this pretty sight many times. She seemed to prefer to +kiss him when he was lying down, with his head raised a little above +the floor. Finding him in this position, she would walk beside him, +reach up and kiss his face again and again, all the time cooing softly +to him. + +"Toward spring Bob's feathers became dull and somewhat ragged, and +with the warm days came our decision to let her go outside. She was +delighted to scratch in the loose earth around the rosebushes, and +eagerly fed on the insects she found there. Her plumage soon took on +its natural trimness and freshness. She did not show any inclination +to leave, and with Rex by her or near her, we felt that she was safe +from cats, so we soon allowed her to remain out all day long. + +"Passers-by often stopped to watch Bob and Rex playing together. +Sometimes he would go lumbering across the yard while she, plainly +displeased at the fast pace, hurried after with an incessant scolding +chatter as much as to say: 'Don't go so fast, old fellow. How do you +expect me to keep up?' Sometimes, when Rex was lying down eating a +bone, she would stand on one of his fore legs and quietly pick away +at the bone. + +"The girls frequently went out to call her, and did so by whistling +'Bob White.' She never failed to answer promptly, and her response +sounded like _chee chos, chee chos_, which she uttered before +hurrying to them. + +"One summer morning I found her at the kitchen door waiting to be let +out. I opened the door and watched her go tripping down the steps. +When she started across the yard I cautioned her to 'be a little lady, +and don't get too far away.' Rex was away that morning, and soon one +of the girls went out to call her. Repeated calls brought no answer. +We all started searching. We wondered if the cat had caught her, or if +she had been lured away by the winning calls of her kind. Beneath a +cherry tree near the kitchen door, just as Rex came home, we found +her, bloody and dead. Rex, after pushing her body tenderly about with +his nose, as if trying to help her to rise, looked up and appealed +piteously to us. We buried her beneath the rosebush near which she +and Rex had played." + + + + +Kinnikinick + + +The kinnikinick is a plant pioneer. Often it is the first plant to +make a settlement or establish a colony on a barren or burned-over +area. It is hardy, and is able to make a start and thrive in places so +inhospitable as to afford most plants not the slightest foothold. In +such places the kinnikinick's activities make changes which alter +conditions so beneficially that in a little while plants less hardy +come to join the first settler. The pioneer work done by the +kinnikinick on a barren and rocky realm has often resulted in the +establishment of a flourishing forest there. + +The kinnikinick, or _Arctostaphylos Uva-Ursi_, as the botanists name +it, may be called a ground-loving vine. Though always attractive, it +is in winter that it is at its best. Then its bright green leaves +and red berries shine among the snow-flowers in a quiet way that is +strikingly beautiful. + +Since it is beautiful as well as useful, I had long admired this +ever-cheerful, ever-spreading vine before I appreciated the good +though humble work it is constantly doing. I had often stopped to +greet it,--the only green thing upon a rock ledge or a sandy +stretch,--had walked over it in forest avenues beneath tall and +stately pines, and had slept comfortably upon its spicy, elastic +rugs, liking it from the first. But on one of my winter tramps I +fell in love with this beautiful evergreen. + +The day was a cold one, and the high, gusty wind was tossing and +playing with the last snow-fall. I had been snowshoeing through the +forest, and had come out upon an unsheltered ridge that was a part +of a barren area which repeated fires had changed from a forested +condition to desert. The snow lay several feet deep in the woods, but +as the gravelly distance before me was bare, I took off my snowshoes. +I went walking, and at times blowing, along the bleak ridge, scarcely +able to see through the snow-filled air. But during a lull the air +cleared of snow-dust and I paused to look about me. The wind still +roared in the distance, and against the blue eastern sky it had a +column of snow whirling that was dazzling white in the afternoon sun. +On my left a mountain rose with easy slope to crag-crowned heights, +and for miles swept away before me with seared side barren and dull. +A few cloudlets of snowdrifts and a scattering of mere tufts of snow +stood out distinctly on this big, bare slope. + +I wondered what could be holding these few spots of snow on this +wind-swept slope. I finally went up to examine one of them. Thrust out +and lifted just above the snow of the tuft before me was the jeweled +hand of a kinnikinick; and every snow-deposit on the slope was held +in place by the green arms of this plant. Here was this beautiful +vinelike shrub gladly growing on a slope that had been forsaken by all +other plants. + +To state the situation fairly, all had been burned off by fire and +Kinnikinick was the first to come back, and so completely had fires +consumed the plant-food that many plants would be unable to live here +until better conditions prevailed and the struggle for existence was +made less severe. Kinnikinick was making the needed changes; in time +it would prepare the way, and other plants, and the pines too, would +come back to carpet and plume the slope and prevent wind and water +from tearing and scarring the earth. + +The seeds of Kinnikinick are scattered by birds, chipmunks, wind, and +water. I do not know by what agency the seeds had come to this slope, +but here were the plants, and on this dry, fire-ruined, sun-scorched, +wind-beaten slope they must have endured many hardships. Many must +have perished before these living ones had made a secure start +in life. + +Once Kinnikinick has made a start, it is constantly assisted to +succeed by its own growing success. Its arms catch and hold snow, and +this gives a supply of much-needed water. This water is snugly stored +beneath the plant, where but little can be reached or taken by the sun +or the thirsty winds. The winds, too, which were so unfriendly while +it was trying to make a start, now become helpful to the brave, +persistent plant. Every wind that blows brings something to it,--dust, +powdered earth, trash, the remains of dead insects; some of this +material is carried for miles. All goes to form new soil, or to +fertilize or mulch the old. This supplies Kinnikinick's great needs. +The plant grows rich from the constant tribute of the winds. The +soil-bed grows deeper and richer and is also constantly outbuilding +and enlarging, and Kinnikinick steadily increases its size. + +In a few years a small oasis is formed in, or rather on, the barren. +This becomes a place of refuge for seed wanderers,--in fact, a +nursery. Up the slope I saw a young pine standing in a kinnikinick +snow-cover. In the edge of the snow-tuft by me, covered with a robe of +snow, I found a tiny tree, a mere baby pine. Where did this pine come +from? There were no seed-bearing pines within miles. How did a pine +seed find its way to this cosy nursery? Perhaps the following is its +story: The seed of this little pine, together with a score or more of +others, grew in a cone out near the end of the pine-tree limb. This +pine was on a mountain several miles from the fire-ruined slope, when +one windy autumn day some time after the seeds were ripe, the cone +began to open its fingers and the seeds came dropping out. The seed +of this baby tree was one of these, and when it tumbled out of the +cone the wind caught it, and away it went over trees, rocks, and +gulches, whirling and dancing in the autumn sunlight. After tumbling a +few miles in this wild flight, it came down among some boulders. Here +it lay until, one very windy day, it was caught up and whirled away +again. Before long it was dashed against a granite cliff and fell to +the ground; but in a moment, the wind found it and drove it, with a +shower of trash and dust, bounding and leaping across a barren slope, +plump into this kinnikinick nest. From this shelter the wind could not +drive it. Here the little seed might have said, "This is just the +place I was looking for; here is shelter from the wind and sun; the +soil is rich and damp; I am so tired, I think I'll take a sleep." When +the little seed awoke, it wore the green dress of the pine family. +The kinnikinick's nursery had given it a start in life. + +Under favorable conditions Kinnikinick is a comparatively rapid +grower. Its numerous vinelike limbs--little arms--spread or reach +outward from the central root, take a new hold upon the earth, and +prepare to reach again. The ground beneath it in a little while is +completely hidden by its closely crowding leafy arms. In places these +soft, pliable rugs unite and form extensive carpets. Strip off these +carpets and often all that remains is a barren exposure of sand or +gravel on bald or broken rocks, whose surfaces and edges have been +draped or buried by its green leaves and red berries. + +In May kinnikinick rugs become flower-beds. Each flower is a +narrow-throated, pink-lipped, creamy-white jug, and is filled with a +drop of exquisitely flavored honey. The jugs in a short time change to +smooth purple berries, and in autumn they take on their winter dress +of scarlet. When ripe the berries taste like mealy crab-apples. I have +often seen chipmunks eating the berries, or apples, sitting up with +the fruit in both their deft little hands, and eating it with such +evident relish that I frequently found myself thinking of these +berries as chipmunk's apples. + +Kinnikinick is widely distributed over the earth, and is most often +found on gravelly slopes or sandy stretches. Frequently you will find +it among scattered pines, trying to carpet their cathedral floor. +Many a summer day I have lain down and rested on these flat and fluffy +forest rugs, while between the tangled tops of the pines I looked at +the blue of the sky or watched the white clouds so serenely floating +there. Many a summer night upon these elastic spreads I have lain +and gazed at the thick-sown stars, or watched the ebbing, fading +camp-fire, at last to fall asleep and to rest as sweetly and serenely +as ever did the Scotchman upon his heathered Highlands. Many a morning +I have awakened late after a sleep so long that I had settled into the +yielding mass and Kinnikinick had put up an arm, either to shield my +face with its hand, or to show me, when I should awaken, its pretty +red berries and bright green leaves. + +[Illustration: SUMMER AT AN ALTITUDE OF 12,000 FEET] + +One morning, while visiting in a Blackfoot Indian camp, I saw the +men smoking kinnikinick leaves, and I asked if they had any legend +concerning the shrub. I felt sure they must have a fascinating story +of it which told of the Great Spirit's love for Kinnikinick, but they +had none. One of them said he had heard the Piute Indians tell why +the Great Spirit had made it, but he could not remember the account. +I inquired among many Indians, feeling that I should at last learn a +happy legend concerning it, but in vain. One night, however, by my +camp-fire, I dreamed that some Alaska Indians told me this legend:-- + +Long, long ago, Kinnikinick was a small tree with brown berries and +broad leaves which dropped to the ground in autumn. One year a great +snow came while the leaves were still on, and all trees were flattened +upon the ground by the weight of the clinging snow. All broad-leaved +trees except Kinnikinick died. When the snow melted, Kinnikinick was +still alive, but pressed out upon the ground, crushed so that it could +not rise. It started to grow, however, and spread out its limbs on the +surface very like a root growth. The Great Spirit was so pleased with +Kinnikinick's efforts that he decided to let it live on in its new +form, and also that he would send it to colonize many places where it +had never been. He changed its berries from brown to red, so that the +birds could see its fruit and scatter its seeds far and wide. Its +leaves were reduced in size and made permanently green, so that +Kinnikinick, like the pines it loves and helps, could wear green +all the time. + +Whenever I see a place that has been made barren and ugly by the +thoughtlessness of man, I like to think of Kinnikinick, for I know +it will beautify these places if given a chance to do so. There are +on earth millions of acres now almost desert that may some time be +changed and beautified by this cheerful, modest plant. Some time many +bald and barren places in the Rockies will be plumed with pines, +bannered with flowers, have brooks, butterflies, and singing +birds,--all of these, and homes, too, around which children will +play,--because of the reclaiming work which will be done by charming +Kinnikinick. + + + + +The Lodge-Pole Pine + + +The trappers gave the Lodge-Pole Pine (_Pinus contorta_, var. +_Murrayana_) its popular name on account of its general use by Indians +of the West for lodge or wigwam poles. It is a tree with an unusually +interesting life-story, and is worth knowing for the triumphant +struggle which it makes for existence, and also for the commercial +importance which, at an early date, it seems destined to have. Perhaps +its most interesting and advantageous characteristic is its habit of +holding or hoarding its seed-harvests. + +Lodge-pole is also variously called Tamarack, Murray, and Two-leaved +Pine. Its yellow-green needles are in twos, and are from one to three +inches in length. Its cones are about one inch in diameter at the base +and from one to two inches long. Its light-gray or cinnamon-gray bark +is thin and scaly. + +In a typical lodge-pole forest the trees, or poles, stand closely +together and all are of the same age and of even size. Seedlings +and saplings are not seen in an old forest. This forest covers the +mountains for miles, growing in moist, dry, and stony places, claims +all slopes, has an altitudinal range of four thousand feet, and almost +entirely excludes all other species from its borders. + +[Illustration: A TYPICAL LODGE-POLE FOREST] + +The hoarding habit of this tree, the service rendered it by forest +fires, the lightness of the seeds and the readiness with which they +germinate on dry or burned-over areas, its ability to grow in a +variety of soils and climates, together with its capacity to thrive in +the full glare of the sun,--all these are factors which make this tree +interesting, and which enable it, despite the most dangerous forest +enemy, fire, to increase and multiply and extend its domains. + +During the last fifty years this aggressive, indomitable tree has +enormously extended its area, and John Muir is of the opinion that, +"as fires are multiplied and the mountains become drier, this +wonderful lodge-pole pine bids fair to obtain possession of nearly all +the forest ground in the West." Its geographical range is along the +Rocky Mountains from Alaska to New Mexico, and on the Pacific coast +forests of it are, in places, found from sea-level to an altitude of +eleven thousand feet. On the Rockies it flourishes between the +altitudes of seven thousand and ten thousand feet. It is largely +represented in the forests of Colorado, Utah, Idaho, and Montana, +and it has extensive areas in Oregon and Washington. It is the most +numerous tree in Wyoming, occupying in Yellowstone Park a larger area +than all other trees combined, while in California it forms the bulk +of the alpine forests. + +The lodge-pole readily adapts itself to the most diverse soil and +conditions, but it thrives best where there is considerable moisture. +The roots accommodate themselves to shallow soil, and thrive in it. + +This tree begins to bear fruit at an early age, sometimes when only +eight years old, and usually produces large quantities of cones +annually. The cones sometimes open and liberate the seeds as soon as +they are ripe, but commonly they remain on the tree for years, with +their seeds carefully sealed and protected beneath the scales. So far +as I have observed, the trees on the driest soil cling longest to +their seeds. For an old lodge-pole to have on its limbs twenty crops +of unopened cones is not uncommon. Neither is it uncommon to see an +extensive lodge-pole forest each tree of which has upon it several +hundred, and many of the trees a few thousand, cones, and in each cone +a few mature seeds. Most of these seeds will never have a chance to +make a start in life except they be liberated by fire. In fact, most +lodge-pole seeds are liberated by fire. The reproduction of this pine +is so interwoven with the effects of the forest fires that one may +safely say that most of the lodge-pole forests and the increasing +lodge-pole areas are the result of forest fires. + +Every lodge-pole forest is a fire-trap. The thin, scaly, pitchy bark +and the live resiny needles on the tree, as well as those on the +ground, are very inflammable, and fires probably sweep a lodge-pole +forest more frequently than any other in America. When this forest +is in a sapling stage, it is very likely to be burned to ashes. If, +however, the trees are beyond the sapling stage, the fire probably +will consume the needles, burn some of the bark away, and leave the +tree, together with its numerous seed-filled cones, unconsumed. As a +rule, the fire so heats the cones that most of them open and release +their seeds a few hours, or a few days, after the fire. If the area +burned over is a large one, the fire loosens the clasp of the +cone-scales and millions of lodge-pole seeds are released to be sown +by the great eternal seed-sower, the wind. These seeds are thickly +scattered, and as they germinate readily in the mineral soil, enormous +numbers of them sprout and begin to struggle for existence. I once +counted 84,322 young trees on an acre. + +The trees often stand as thick as wheat in a field and exclude all +other species. Their growth is slow and mostly upright. They early +become delicate miniature poles, and often, at the age of twenty-five +or thirty years, good fishing-poles. In their crowded condition, the +competition is deadly. Hundreds annually perish, but this tree clings +tenaciously to life, and starving it to death is not easy. In the +summer of 1895 I counted 24,271 thirty-year-old lodge-poles upon an +acre. Ten years later, 19,040 of these were alive. It is possible +that eighty thousand, or even one hundred thousand, seedlings started +upon this acre. Sometimes more than half a century is required for +the making of good poles. + +On the Grand River in Colorado I once measured a number of poles that +averaged two inches in diameter at the ground and one and one half +inches fifteen feet above it. These poles averaged forty feet high and +were sixty-seven years of age. Others of my notes read: "9728 trees +upon an acre. They were one hundred and three years of age, two to six +inches in diameter, four and a half feet from the ground, and from +thirty to sixty feet high, at an altitude of 8700 feet. Soil and +moisture conditions were excellent. On another acre there were 4126 +trees one hundred and fifty-four years old, together with eleven young +Engelmann spruces and one _Pinus flexilis_ and eight Douglas firs. The +accumulation of duff, mostly needles, averaged eight inches deep, and, +with the exception of one bunch of kinnikinick, there was neither +grass nor weed, and only tiny, thinly scattered sun-gold reached the +brown matted floor." + +After self-thinning has gone on for a hundred years or so, the ranks +have been so thinned that there are openings sufficiently large to +allow other species a chance to come in. By this time, too, there is +sufficient humus on the floor to allow the seeds of many other species +to germinate. Lodge-pole thus colonizes barren places, holds them for +a time, and so changes them that the very species dispossessed by fire +may regain the lost territory. Roughly, the lodge-pole will hold the +ground exclusively from seventy-five to one hundred and fifty years, +then the invading trees will come triumphantly in and, during the next +century and a half, will so increase and multiply that they will +almost exclude the lodge-pole. Thus Engelmann spruce and Douglas fir +are now growing where lodge-pole flourished, but let fire destroy this +forest and lodge-pole will again claim the territory, hold it against +all comers for a century or two, and then slowly give way to or be +displaced by the spruces and firs. + +The interesting characteristic of holding its cones and hoarding seeds +often results in the cones being overgrown and embedded in the trunk +or the limbs of the trees. As the cones hug closely the trunk or the +limbs, it is not uncommon for the saw, when laying open a log at the +mill, to reveal a number of cones embedded there. I have in my cabin a +sixteen-foot plank that is two inches in diameter and six inches wide, +which came out of a lodge-pole tree. Embedded in this are more than a +score of cones. Probably most of these cones were of the first crop +which the tree produced, for they clung along the trunk of the tree +and grew there when it was about an inch and a quarter in diameter. +The section upon which these cones grew was between fifteen and +twenty-five feet from the ground. + +The seeds of most conifers need vegetable mould, litter, or vegetation +cover of some kind in which to germinate, and then shade for a time in +which to grow. These requirements so needed by other conifer seeds and +seedlings are detrimental to the lodge-pole. If its seeds fall on +areas lightly covered with low huckleberry vines, but few of them will +germinate. A lodge-pole seed that germinates in the shade is doomed. +It must have sunlight or die. In the ashes of a forest fire, in the +full glare of the sun, the seeds of the lodge-pole germinate, grow, +and flourish. + +Wind is the chief agency which enables the seeds to migrate. The seeds +are light, and I know of one instance where an isolated tree on a +plateau managed to scatter its seeds by the aid of the wind over a +circular area fifty acres in extent, though a few acres is all that +is reached by the average tree. Sometimes the wind scatters the seeds +unevenly. If most of the seeds are released in one day, and the wind +this day prevails from the same quarter, the seeds will take but one +course from the tree; while changing winds may scatter them quite +evenly all around the tree. + +A camping party built a fire against a lone lodge-pole. The tree was +killed and suffered a loss of its needles from the fire. Four years +later, a long green pennant, tattered at the end and formed of +lodge-pole seedlings, showed on the mountain-side. This pennant began +at the tree and streamed out more than seven hundred feet. Its width +varied from ten to fifty feet. + +The action of a fire in a lodge-pole forest is varied. If the forest +be an old one, even with much rubbish on the ground the heat is not +so intense as in a young growth. Where trees are scattered the flames +crawl from tree to tree, the needles of which ignite like flash-powder +and make beautiful rose-purple flames. At night fires of this kind +furnish rare fireworks. Each tree makes a fountain of flame, after +which, for a moment, every needle shines like incandescent silver, +while exquisite light columns of ashen green smoke float above. The +hottest fire I ever experienced was made by the burning of a +thirty-eight-year lodge-pole forest. In this forest the poles stood +more than thirty feet high, and were about fifteen thousand to an +acre. They stood among masses of fallen trees, the remains of a spruce +forest that had been killed by the same fire which had given this +lodge-pole forest a chance to spring up. Several thousand acres were +burned, and for a brief time the fire traveled swiftly. I saw it roll +blazing over one mountain-side at a speed of more than sixty miles an +hour. It was intensely hot, and in a surprisingly short time the +flames had burned every log, stump, and tree to ashes. Several hundred +acres were swept absolutely bare of trees, living and dead, and the +roots too were burned far into the ground. + +Several beetles prey upon the lodge-pole, and in some localities the +porcupine feeds off its inner bark. It is also made use of by man. The +wood is light, not strong, with a straight, rather coarse grain. It is +of a light yellow to nearly white, or pinkish white, soft, and easily +worked. In the West it is extensively used for lumber, fencing, fuel, +and log houses, and millions of lodge-pole railroad-ties are annually +put to use. + +Most lodge-poles grow in crowded ranks, and slow growth is the result, +but it is naturally a comparatively rapid grower. In good, moist soil, +uncrowded, it rapidly builds upward and outward. I have more than a +score of records that show that it has made a quarter of an inch +diameter growth annually, together with an upright growth of more than +twelve inches, and also several notes which show where trees standing +in favorable conditions have made half an inch diameter growth +annually. This fact of its rapid growth, together with other valuable +characteristics and qualities of the tree, may lead it to be selected +by the government for the reforestation of millions of acres of +denuded areas in the West. In many places on the Rockies it would, if +given a chance, make commercial timber in from thirty to sixty years. + +I examined a lodge-pole in the Medicine Bow Mountains that was scarred +by fire. It was two hundred and fourteen years of age. It took one +hundred and seventy-eight years for it to make five inches of diameter +growth. In the one hundred and seventy-eighth ring of annual growth +there was a fire-scar, and during the next thirty-six years it put on +five more inches of growth. It is probable, therefore, that the fire +destroyed the neighboring trees, which had dwarfed and starved it and +thus held it in check. I know of scores of cases where lodge-poles +grew much more rapidly, though badly fire-scarred, after fires had +removed their hampering competitors. + +There are millions of acres of young lodge-pole forests in the West. +They are almost as impenetrable as canebrakes. It would greatly +increase the rate of growth if these trees were thinned, but it is +probable that this will not be done for many years. Meantime, +if these forests be protected from fire, they will be excellent +water-conservers. When the snows or the rains fall into the lodge-pole +thickets, they are beyond the reach of the extra dry winds. If they +are protected, the water-supply of the West will be protected; and if +they are destroyed, the winds will evaporate most of the precipitation +that falls upon their areas. + +I do not know of any tree that better adjusts itself to circumstances, +or that struggles more bravely or successfully. I am hopeful that +before many years the school-children of America will be well +acquainted with the Lodge-Pole Pine, and I feel that its interesting +ways, its struggles, and its importance will, before long, be +appreciated and win a larger place in our literature and also in +our hearts. + + + + +Rocky Mountain Forests + + +It is stirring to stand at the feet of the Rocky Mountains and look +upward and far away over the broken strata that pile and terrace +higher and higher, until, at a distance of twenty-five or thirty +miles, they stand a shattered and snowy horizon against the blue. The +view is an inspiring one from the base, but it gives no idea that this +mountain array is a magnificent wild hanging-garden. Across the +terraced and verdure-plumed garden the eternal snows send their clear +and constant streams, to leap in white cascades between crowning crags +and pines. Upon the upper slopes of this garden are many mirrored +lakes, ferny, flowery glens, purple forests, and crag-piled meadows. + +If any one were to start at the foothills in Colorado, where one of +the clear streams comes sweeping out of the mountains to go quietly +across the wide, wide plains, and from this starting-place climb to +the crest of this terraced land of crags, pines, ferns, and flowers, +he would, in so doing, go through many life-zones and see numerous +standing and moving life-forms, all struggling, yet seemingly all +contented with life and the scenes wherein they live and struggle. + +The broad-leaf cottonwood, which has accompanied the streams across +the plains, stops at the foothills, and along the river in the +foothills the narrow-leaf cottonwood (_Populus angustifolia_) crowds +the water's edge, here and there mingling with red-fruited hawthorns +and wild plums (_Prunus Americana_). A short distance from the stream +the sumac stands brilliant in the autumn, and a little farther away +are clumps of greasewood and sagebrush and an occasional spread +of juniper. Here and there are some forlorn-looking red cedars and a +widely scattered sprinkling of stunted yellow pines (_Pinus scopulorum_). + +At an altitude of six thousand feet the yellow pine acquires true tree +dignity and begins to mass itself into forests. When seen from a +distance its appearance suggests the oak. It seems a trifle rigid, +appears ready to meet emergencies, has a look of the heroic, and +carries more character than any other tree on the Rockies. Though a +slender and small-limbed tree in youth, after forty or fifty years it +changes slowly and becomes stocky, strong-limbed, and rounded at the +top. Lightning, wind, and snow break or distort its upper limbs so +that most of these veteran pines show a picturesquely broken top, with +a towering dead limb or two among the green ones. Its needles are in +bundles of both twos and threes, and they vary from three to eight +inches in length. The tree is rich in resin, and a walk through its +groves on an autumn day, when the sun shines bright on its clean +golden columns and brings out its aroma, is a walk full of contentment +and charm. The bark is fluted and blackish-gray in youth, and it +breaks up into irregular plates, which on old trees frequently are +five inches or more in thickness. This bark gives the tree excellent +fire-protection. + +The yellow pine is one of the best fire-fighters and lives long. I +have seen many of the pines that were from sixty to ninety feet high, +with a diameter of from three to five feet. They were aged from two +hundred and fifty to six hundred years. Most of the old ones have +lived through several fires. I dissected a fallen veteran that grew +on the St. Vrain watershed, at an altitude of eight thousand feet, +that was eighty-five feet high and fifty-one inches in diameter five +feet from the ground. It showed six hundred and seventy-nine annual +rings. During the first three hundred years of its life it averaged an +inch of diameter growth every ten years. It had been through many +forest fires and showed large fire-scars. One of these it received at +the age of three hundred and thirty-nine years. It carried another +scar which it received two hundred and sixteen years before its death; +another which it received in 1830; and a fourth which it received +fourteen years before it blew over in the autumn of 1892. All of these +fire-scars were on the same quarter of the tree. All were on that part +of the tree which overlooked the down-sloping hillside. + +Forest fires, where there is opportunity, sweep up the mountain-side +against the lower side of the trees. The lower side is thus often +scarred while the opposite side is scarcely injured; but wind blowing +down the gulch at the time of each fire may have directed the flames +against the lower side of this tree. In many places clusters of young +trees were growing close to the lower side of the old trees, and were +enabled to grow there by light that came in from the side. It may be +that the heat from one of the blazing clusters scarred this old pine; +then another young cluster may have grown, to be in time also +consumed. But these scars may have resulted, wholly or in part, from +other causes. + +Yellow pine claims the major portion of the well-drained slopes, +except those that are northerly, in the middle mountain-zone up to +the lower lodge-pole margin. A few groves are found higher than nine +thousand feet. Douglas spruce covers many of the northerly slopes +that lie between six thousand and nine thousand feet. + +The regularity of tree-distribution over the mountains is to me a +never-failing source of interest. Though the various species of trees +appear to be growing almost at random, yet each species shows a +decided preference for peculiar altitude, soil, temperature, and +moisture conditions. It is an interesting demonstration of tree +adaptability to follow a stream which comes out of the west, in the +middle mountain-zone, and observe how unlike the trees are which +thrive on opposite sides. On the southerly slopes that come down to +the water is an open forest of yellow pine, and on the opposite side, +the south bank, a dense forest of Douglas spruce. If one be told the +altitude, the slope, and the moisture conditions of a place on the +Rockies, he should, if acquainted with the Rockies, be able to name +the kinds of trees growing there. Some trees grow only in moist +places, others only in dry places, some never below or above a certain +altitude. Indeed, so regular is the tree-distribution over the Rockies +that I feel certain, if I were to awaken from a Rip Van Winkle sleep +in the forests on the middle or upper slopes of these mountains, I +could, after examining a few of the trees around me, tell the points +of the compass, the altitude above sea-level, and the season of +the year. + +[Illustration: ASPENS] + +At an altitude of about sixty-five hundred feet cottonwood, which has +accompanied the streams from the foothills, begins to be displaced by +aspen. The aspen (_Populus tremuloides_) is found growing in +groups and groves from this altitude up to timber-line, usually in the +moister places. To me the aspen is almost a classic tree, and I have +met it in so many places that I regard it almost as an old friend. It +probably rivals the juniper in being the most widely distributed tree +on the North American continent. It also vies with the lodge-pole pine +in quickness of taking possession of burned-over areas. Let a moist +place be burned over and the aspen will quickly take possession, and +soon establish conditions which will allow conifers to return. This +the conifers do, and in a very short time smother the aspens that made +it possible for them to start in life. The good nursery work of aspens +is restricted pretty closely to damp places. + +Besides being a useful tree, the bare-legged little aspen with its +restless and childlike ways is a tree that it is good to know. When +alone, these little trees seem lonely and sometimes to tremble as +though just a little afraid in this big strange world. But generally +the aspen is not alone. Usually you find a number of little aspens +playing together, with their leaves shaking, jostling, and +jumping,--moving all the time. If you go near a group and stop to +watch them, they may, for an instant, pause to glance at you, then +turn to romp more merrily than before. And they have other childlike +ways besides bare legs and activity. On some summer day, if you wish +to find these little trees, look for them where you would for your own +child,--wading the muddiest place to be found. They like to play in +the swamps, and may often be seen in a line alongside a brook with +toes in the water, as though looking for the deepest place before +wading in. + +One day I came across a party of merry little aspens who were in a +circle around a grand old pine, as though using the pine for a maypole +to dance around. It was in autumn, and each little aspen wore its +gayest colors. Some were in gowns of new-made cloth-of-gold. The +grizzled old pine, like an old man in the autumn of his life, looked +down as though honored and pleased with the happy little ones who +seemed so full of joy. I watched them for a time and went on across +the mountains; but I have long believed in fairies, so the next day I +went back to see this fairyland and found the dear little aspens still +shaking their golden leaves, while the old pine stood still in the +sunlight. + +Along the streams, between the altitudes of sixty-five hundred and +eighty-five hundred feet, one finds the Colorado blue or silver +spruce. This tree grows in twos or threes, occasionally forming a +small grove. Usually it is found growing near a river or brook, +standing closely to a golden-lichened crag, in surroundings which +emphasize its beauty of form and color. With its fluffy silver-tipped +robe and its garlands of cones it is the handsomest tree on the +Rockies. It is the queen of these wild gardens. Beginning at the +altitude where the silver spruce ceases is the beautiful balsam fir +(_Abies lasiocarpa_). The balsam fir is generally found in company +with the alders or the silver spruce near a brook. It is strikingly +symmetrical and often forms a perfect slender cone. The balsam fir and +the silver spruce are the evergreen poems of the wild. They get into +one's heart like the hollyhock. Several years ago the school-children +of Colorado selected by vote a State flower and a State tree. Although +more than fifty flowers received votes, two thirds of all the votes +went to the Rocky Mountain columbine. When it came to selecting a +tree, every vote was cast for the silver spruce. + +Edwinia, with its attractive waxy white flowers, and potentilla, with +bloom of gold, are shrubs which lend a charm to much of the +mountain-section. Black birch and alder trim many of the streams, +and the mountain maple is thinly scattered from the foothills to nine +thousand feet altitude. Wild roses are frequently found near the +maple, and gooseberry bushes fringe many a brook. Huckleberries +flourish on the timbered slopes, and kinnikinick gladdens many a +gravelly stretch or slope. + +[Illustration: A GROVE OF SILVER SPRUCE] + +Between the altitudes of eight thousand and ten thousand feet there +are extensive forests of the indomitable lodge-pole pine. This borders +even more extensive forests of Engelmann spruce. Lodge-pole touches +timber-line in a few places, and Engelmann spruce climbs up to it in +every caņon or moist depression. Along with these, at timber-line, are +_flexilis_ pine, balsam fir, arctic willow, dwarf black birch, and the +restless little aspen. All timber-line trees are dwarfed and most +of them distorted. Conditions at timber-line are severe, but the +presence, in places, of young trees farthest up the slopes suggests +that these severe conditions may be developing hardier trees than any +that now are growing on this forest frontier. If this be true, then +timber-line on the Rockies is yet to gain a higher limit. + +Since the day of "Pike's Peak or bust," fires have swept over more +than half of the primeval forest area in Colorado. Some years ago, +while making special efforts to prevent forest fires from starting, I +endeavored to find out the cause of these fires. I regretfully found +that most of them were the result of carelessness, and I also made a +note to the effect that there are few worse things to be guilty of +than carelessly setting fire to a forest. Most of these forest fires +had their origin from camp-fires which the departing campers had left +unextinguished. There were sixteen fires in one summer, which I +attributed to the following causes: campers, nine; cigar, one; +lightning, one; locomotive, one; stockmen, two; sheep-herders, one; +and sawmill, one. + +Fires have made the Rocky Mountains still more rocky. In many places +the fires burn their way to solid rock. In other places the humus, or +vegetable mould, is partly consumed by fire, and the remainder is in a +short time blown away by wind or washed away by water. Fires often +leave only blackened granite rock behind, so that in many places they +have not only consumed the forests, but also the food upon which the +new forests might have fed. Many areas where splendid forests grew, +after being fire-swept, show only barren granite. As some of the +granite on the Rockies disintegrates slowly, it will probably require +several hundred years for Nature to resoil and reforest some of these +fire-scarred places. However, upon thousands of acres of the Rockies +millions of young trees are just beginning to grow, and if these trees +be protected from fire, a forest will early result. + +I never see a little tree bursting from the earth, peeping confidently +up among the withered leaves, without wondering how long it will live +or what trials or triumphs it will have. I always hope that it will +find life worth living, and that it will live long to better and to +beautify the earth. I hope it will love the blue sky and the white +clouds passing by. I trust it will welcome all seasons and ever join +merrily in the music, the motion, and the movement of the elemental +dance with the winds. I hope it will live with rapture in the +flower-opening days of spring and also enjoy the quiet summer rain. +I hope it will be a home for the birds and hear their low, sweet +mating-songs. I trust that when comes the golden peace of autumn days, +it will be ready with fruited boughs for the life to come. I never +fail to hope that if this tree is cut down, it may be used for a +flagpole to keep our glorious banner in the blue above, or that it may +be built into a cottage where love will abide; or if it must be burnt, +that it will blaze on the hearthstone in a home where children play +in the firelight on the floor. + +In many places the Rockies rise more than three thousand feet above +the heights where live the highest struggling trees at timber-line, +but these steep alpine slopes are not bare. The rocks are tinted with +lichens. In places are miles of grassy slopes and miniature meadows, +covered with coarse sedges and bright tender flowers. Among the +shrubs the _Betula glandulosa_ is probably commonest, while _Dasiphora +fruticosa_ and _Salix chlorophylla_ are next in prominence. Here and +there you will see the golden gaillardia, the silver and blue +columbines, splendid arrays of sedum, many marsh-marigolds, lungworts, +paint-brushes of red and white and yellow green, beds of purple +primroses, sprinklings of alpine gentians, many clusters of +live-forever, bunches of honey-smelling valerian, with here and there +standing the tall stalks of fraseria, or monument-plant. There are +hundreds of other varieties of plants, and the region above +timber-line holds many treasures that are dear to those who love +flowers and who appreciate them especially where cold and snow keep +them tiny. + +Above timber-line are many bright blossoms that are familiar to us, +but dwarfed to small size. One needs to get down and lie upon the +ground and search carefully with a magnifying-glass, or he will +overlook many of these brave bright but tiny flowers. Here are blue +gentians less than half an inch in height, bell-flowers only a trifle +higher, and alpine willows so tiny that their catkins touch the +ground. One of the most attractive and beautiful of these alpine +flowers is the blue honeysuckle or polemonium, about an inch in +height. I have found it on mountain-tops, in its fresh, clear +coloring, at an altitude of fourteen thousand feet, as serene as +the sky above it. + +A climb up the Rockies will develop a love for nature, strengthen +one's appreciation of the beautiful world outdoors, and put one in +tune with the Infinite. It will inspire one with the feeling that the +Rockies have a rare mountain wealth of their own. They are not to be +compared with the Selkirks or the Alps or any other unlike range of +mountains. The Rockies are not a type, but an individuality, +singularly rich in mountain scenes which stir one's blood and which +strengthen and sweeten life. + + + + +Besieged by Bears + + +Two old prospectors, Sullivan and Jason, once took me in for the +night, and after supper they related a number of interesting +experiences. Among these tales was one of the best bear-stories I have +ever heard. The story was told in the graphic, earnest, realistic +style so often possessed by those who have lived strong, stirring +lives among crags and pines. Although twenty years had gone by, these +prospectors still had a vivid recollection of that lively night when +they were besieged by three bears, and in recounting the experience +they mingled many good word-pictures of bear behavior with their +exciting and amusing story. "This happened to us," said Sullivan, "in +spite of the fact that we were minding our own business and had never +hunted bears." + +The siege occurred at their log cabin during the spring of 1884. They +were prospecting in Geneva Park, where they had been all winter, +driving a tunnel. They were so nearly out of supplies that they could +not wait for snowdrifts to melt out of the trail. Provisions must be +had, and Sullivan thought that, by allowing twice the usual time, he +could make his way down through the drifts and get back to the cabin +with them. So one morning, after telling Jason that he would be back +the next evening, he took their burro and set off down the mountain. +On the way home next day Sullivan had much difficulty in getting the +loaded burro through the snowdrifts, and when within a mile of the +cabin, they stuck fast. Sullivan unpacked and rolled the burro out of +the snow, and was busily repacking, when the animal's uneasiness made +him look round. + +[Illustration: OURAY, COLORADO + +A typical mining town] + +In the edge of the woods, only a short distance away, were three +bears, apparently a mother and her two well-grown children. They were +sniffing the air eagerly and appeared somewhat excited. The old bear +would rise on her hind paws, sniff the air, then drop back to the +ground. She kept her nose pointed toward Sullivan, but did not appear +to look at him. The smaller bears moved restlessly about; they +would walk a few steps in advance, stand erect, draw their fore paws +close to their breasts, and sniff, sniff, sniff the air, upward and +in all directions before them. Then they would slowly back up to the +old bear. They all seemed very good-natured. + +When Sullivan was unpacking the burro, the wrapping had come off two +hams which were among the supplies, and the wind had carried the +delicious aroma to the bears, who were just out of their winter dens +after weeks of fasting. Of course, sugar-cured hams smelled good to +them. Sullivan repacked the burro and went on. The bears quietly eyed +him for some distance. At a turn in the trail he looked back and saw +the bears clawing and smelling the snow on which the provisions had +lain while he was getting the burro out of the snowdrift. He went on +to the cabin, had supper, and forgot the bears. + +The log cabin in which he and Jason lived was a small one; it had a +door in the side and a small window in one end. The roof was made of +a layer of poles thickly covered with earth. A large shepherd-dog often +shared the cabin with the prospectors. He was a playful fellow, and +Sullivan often romped with him. Near their cabin were some vacant +cabins of other prospectors, who had "gone out for the winter" and +were not yet back for summer prospecting. + +The evening was mild, and as soon as supper was over Sullivan filled +his pipe, opened the door, and sat down on the edge of the bed for a +smoke, while Jason washed the dishes. He had taken only a few pulls at +his pipe when there was a rattling at the window. Thinking the dog was +outside, Sullivan called, "Why don't you go round to the door?" This +invitation was followed by a momentary silence, then smash! a piece of +sash and fragments of window-glass flew past Sullivan and rattled on +the floor. He jumped to his feet. In the dim candle-light he saw a +bear's head coming in through the window. He threw his pipe of burning +tobacco into the bear's face and eyes, and then grabbed for some steel +drills which lay in the corner on the floor. The earth roof had +leaked, and the drills were ice-covered and frozen fast to the floor. + +While Sullivan was dislodging the drills, Jason began to bombard the +bear vigorously with plates from the table. The bear backed out; she +was looking for food, not clean plates. However, the instant she was +outside, she accepted Sullivan's invitation and went round to the +door! And she came for it with a rush! Both Sullivan and Jason jumped +to close the door. They were not quick enough, and instead of one bear +there were three! The entire family had accepted the invitation, and +all were trying to come in at once! + +When Sullivan and Jason threw their weight against the door it slammed +against the big bear's nose,--a very sensitive spot. She gave a savage +growl. Apparently she blamed the two other bears either for hurting +her nose or for being in the way. At any rate, a row started; halfway +in the door the bears began to fight; for a few seconds it seemed as +if all the bears would roll inside. Sullivan and Jason pushed against +the door with all their might, trying to close it. During the struggle +the bears rolled outside and the door went shut with a bang. The heavy +securing cross-bar was quickly put into place; but not a moment too +soon, for an instant later the old bear gave a furious growl and flung +herself against the door, making it fairly crack; it seemed as if the +door would be broken in. Sullivan and Jason hurriedly knocked their +slab bed to pieces and used the slats and heavy sides to prop and +strengthen the door. The bears kept surging and clawing at the door, +and while the prospectors were spiking the braces against it and +giving their entire attention to it, they suddenly felt the cabin +shake and heard the logs strain and give. They started back, to see +the big bear struggling in the window. Only the smallness of the +window had prevented the bear from getting in unnoticed, and +surprising them while they were bracing the door. The window was so +small that the bear in trying to get in had almost wedged fast. With +hind paws on the ground, fore paws on the window-sill, and shoulders +against the log over the window, the big bear was in a position to +exert all her enormous strength. Her efforts to get in sprung the logs +and gave the cabin the shake which warned. + +Sullivan grabbed one of the steel drills and dealt the bear a terrible +blow on the head. She gave a growl of mingled pain and fury as she +freed herself from the window. Outside she backed off growling. + +For a little while things were calmer. Sullivan and Jason, drills in +hand, stood guard at the window. After some snarling in front of the +window the bears went round to the door. They clawed the door a few +times and then began to dig under it. "They are tunneling in for us," +said Sullivan. "They want those hams; but they won't get them." + +After a time the bears quit digging and started away, occasionally +stopping to look hesitatingly back. It was almost eleven o'clock, and +the full moon shone splendidly through the pines. The prospectors +hoped that the bears were gone for good. There was an old rifle in +the cabin, but there were no cartridges, for Sullivan and Jason never +hunted and rarely had occasion to fire a gun. But, fearing that the +animals might return, Sullivan concluded to go to one of the vacant +cabins for a loaded Winchester which he knew to be there. + +As soon as the bears disappeared, he crawled out of the window and +looked cautiously around; then he made a run for the vacant cabin. +The bears heard him running, and when he had nearly reached the cabin, +they came round the corner of it to see what was the matter. He was up +a pine tree in an instant. After a few growls the bears moved off and +disappeared behind a vacant cabin. As they had gone behind the cabin +which contained the loaded gun, Sullivan thought it would be dangerous +to try to make the cabin, for if the door should be swelled fast, the +bears would surely get him. Waiting until he thought it safe to +return, he dropped to the ground and made a dash for his own cabin. +The bears heard him and again gave chase, with the evident intention +of getting even for all their annoyances. It was only a short distance +to his cabin, but the bears were at his heels when he dived in through +the broken window. + +A bundle of old newspapers was then set on fire and thrown among the +bears, to scare them away. There was some snarling, until one of the +young bears with a stroke of a fore paw scattered the blazing papers +in all directions; then the bears walked round the cabin-corner out +of sight and remained quiet for several minutes. + +Just as Jason was saying, "I hope they are gone for good," there came +a thump on the roof which told the prospectors that the bears were +still intent on the hams. The bears began to claw the earth off the +roof. If they were allowed to continue, they would soon clear off the +earth and would then have a chance to tear out the poles. With a few +poles torn out, the bears would tumble into the cabin, or perhaps +their combined weight might cause the roof to give way and drop them +into the cabin. Something had to be done to stop their clawing and if +possible get them off the roof. Bundles of hay were taken out of the +bed mattress. From time to time Sullivan would set fire to one of +these bundles, lean far out through the window, and throw the blazing +hay upon the roof among the bears. So long as he kept these fireworks +going, the bears did not dig; but they stayed on the roof and became +furiously angry. The supply of hay did not last long, and as soon as +the annoyance from the bundles of fire ceased, the bears attacked the +roof again with renewed vigor. + +Then it was decided to prod the bears with red-hot drills thrust up +between the poles of the roof. As there was no firewood in the cabin, +and as fuel was necessary in order to heat the drills, a part of the +floor was torn up for that purpose. + +The young bears soon found hot drills too warm for them and scrambled +or fell off the roof. But the old one persisted. In a little while she +had clawed off a large patch of earth and was tearing the poles with +her teeth. + +The hams had been hung up on the wall in the end of the cabin; the old +bear was tearing just above them. Jason threw the hams on the floor +and wanted to throw them out of the window. He thought that the bears +would leave contented if they had them. Sullivan thought differently; +he said that it would take six hams apiece to satisfy the bears, and +that two hams would be only a taste which would make the bears more +reckless than ever. The hams stayed in the cabin. + +The old bear had torn some of the poles in two and was madly tearing +and biting at others. Sullivan was short and so were the drills. To +get within easier reach, he placed the table almost under the gnawing +bear, sprang upon it, and called to Jason for a red-hot drill. Jason +was about to hand him one when he noticed a small bear climbing in at +the window, and, taking the drill with him, he sprang over to beat +the bear back. Sullivan jumped down to the fire for a drill, and in +climbing back on the table he looked up at the gnawed hole and +received a shower of dirt in his face and eyes. This made him flinch +and he lost his balance and upset the table. He quickly straightened +the table and sprang upon it, drill in hand. The old bear had a paw +and arm thrust down through the hole between the poles. With a blind +stroke she struck the drill and flung it and Sullivan from the table. +He shouted to Jason for help, but Jason, with both young bears trying +to get in at the window at once, was striking right and left. He had +bears and troubles of his own and did not heed Sullivan's call. The +old bear thrust her head down through the hole and seemed about to +fall in, when Sullivan in desperation grabbed both hams and threw them +out of the window. + +The young bears at once set up a row over the hams, and the old bear, +hearing the fight, jumped off the roof and soon had a ham in her +mouth. + +While the bears were fighting and eating, Sullivan and Jason tore up +the remainder of the floor and barricaded the window. With both door +and window closed, they could give their attention to the roof. All +the drills were heated, and both stood ready to make it hot for the +bears when they should again climb on the roof. But the bears did not +return to the roof. After eating the last morsel of the hams they +walked round to the cabin door, scratched it gently, and then became +quiet. They had lain down by the door. + +It was two o'clock in the morning. The inside of the cabin was in +utter confusion. The floor was strewn with wreckage; bedding, drills, +broken boards, broken plates, and hay were scattered about. Sullivan +gazed at the chaos and remarked that it looked like poor housekeeping. +But he was tired, and, asking Jason to keep watch for a while, he lay +down on the blankets and was soon asleep. + +Toward daylight the bears got up and walked a few times round the +cabin. On each round they clawed at the door, as though to tell +Sullivan that they were there, ready for his hospitality. They whined +a little, half good-naturedly, but no one admitted them, and finally, +just before sunrise, they took their departure and went leisurely +smelling their way down the trail. + + + + +Mountain Parks and Camp-Fires + + +The Rockies of Colorado cross the State from north to south in two +ranges that are roughly parallel and from thirty to one hundred miles +apart. There are a number of secondary ranges in the State that are +just as marked, as high, and as interesting as the main ranges, and +that are in every way comparable with them except in area. The bases +of most of these ranges are from ten to sixty miles across. The +lowlands from which these mountains rise are from five to six thousand +feet above sea-level, and the mountain-summits are from eleven +thousand to thirteen thousand feet above the tides. In the entire +mountain area of the State there are more than fifty peaks that are +upward of fourteen thousand feet in height. Some of these mountains +are rounded, undulating, or table-topped, but for the most part the +higher slopes and culminating summits are broken and angular. +Altogether, the Rocky Mountain area in Colorado presents a delightful +diversity of parks, peaks, forests, lakes, streams, caņons, slopes, +crags, and glades. + +On all of the higher summits are records of the ice age. In many +places glaciated rocks still retain the polish given them by the Ice +King. Such rocks, as well as gigantic moraines in an excellent state +of preservation, extend from altitudes of twelve or thirteen thousand +feet down to eight thousand, and in places as low as seven thousand +feet. Some of the moraines are but enormous embankments a few hundred +feet high and a mile or so in length. Many of these are so raw, bold, +and bare, they look as if they had been completed or uncovered within +the last year. Most of these moraines, however, especially those below +timber-line, are well forested. No one knows just how old they are, +but, geologically speaking, they are new, and in all probability were +made during the last great ice epoch, or since that time. Among the +impressive records of the ages that are carried by these mountains, +those made by the Ice King probably stand first in appealing +strangely and strongly to the imagination. + +All the Rocky Mountain lakes are glacier lakes. There are more than a +thousand of these. The basins of the majority of them were excavated +by ice from solid rock. Only a few of them have more than forty acres +of area, and, with the exception of a very small number, they are +situated well up on the shoulders of the mountains and between the +altitudes of eleven thousand and twelve thousand feet. The lower and +middle slopes of the Rockies are without lakes. + +The lower third of the mountains, that is, the foothill section, is +only tree-dotted. But the middle portion, that part which lies between +the altitudes of eight thousand and eleven thousand feet, is covered +by a heavy forest in which lodge-pole pine, Engelmann spruce, and +Douglas spruce predominate. Fire has made ruinous inroads into the +primeval forest which grew here. + +A large portion of the summit-slopes of the mountains is made up of +almost barren rock, in old moraines, glaciated slopes, or broken +crags, granite predominating. These rocks are well tinted with +lichen, but they present a barren appearance. In places above the +altitude of eleven thousand feet the mountains are covered with a +profuse array of alpine vegetation. This is especially true of the +wet meadows or soil-covered sections that are continually watered by +melting snows. + +In the neighborhood of a snowdrift, at an altitude of twelve thousand +feet, I one day gathered in a small area one hundred and forty-two +varieties of plants. Areas of "eternal snows," though numerous, are +small, and with few exceptions, above twelve thousand feet. Here and +there above timber-line are many small areas of moorland, which, both +in appearance and in vegetation, seem to belong in the tundras of +Siberia. + +While these mountains carry nearly one hundred varieties of trees and +shrubs, the more abundant kinds of trees number less than a score. +These are scattered over the mountains between the altitudes of six +thousand and twelve thousand feet, while, charming and enlivening the +entire mountain-section, are more than a thousand varieties of wild +flowers. + +Bird-life is abundant on the Rockies. No State east of the Mississippi +can show as great a variety as Colorado. Many species of birds well +known in the East are found there, though, generally, they are in some +way slightly modified. Most Rocky Mountain birds sound their notes a +trifle more loudly than their Eastern relatives. Some of them are a +little larger, and many of them have their colors slightly +intensified. + +Many of the larger animals thrive on the slopes of the Rockies. Deer +are frequently seen. Bobcats, mountain lions, and foxes leave many +records. In September bears find the choke-cherry bushes and, standing +on their hind legs, feed eagerly on the cherries, leaves, and +good-sized sections of the twigs. The ground-hog apparently manages to +live well, for he seems always fat. There is that wise little fellow +the coyote. He probably knows more than he is given credit for +knowing, and I am glad to say for him that I believe he does man more +good than harm. He is a great destroyer of meadow mice. He digs out +gophers. Sometimes his meal is made upon rabbits or grasshoppers, +and I have seen him feeding upon wild plums. + +There are hundreds of ruins of the beaver's engineering works. +Countless dams and fillings he has made. On the upper St. Vrain he +still maintains his picturesque rustic home. Most of the present +beaver homes are in high, secluded places, some of them at an altitude +of eleven thousand feet. In midsummer, near most beaver homes one +finds columbines, fringed blue gentians, orchids, and lupines +blooming, while many of the ponds are green and yellow with +pond-lilies. + +[Illustration: ESTES PARK AND THE BIG THOMPSON RIVER FROM THE TOP +OF MT. OLYMPUS] + +During years of rambling I have visited and enjoyed all the celebrated +parks of the Rockies, but one, which shall be nameless, is to me the +loveliest of them all. The first view of it never fails to arouse the +dullest traveler. From the entrance one looks down upon an irregular +depression, several miles in length, a small undulating and beautiful +mountain valley, framed in peaks with purple forested sides and +bristling snowy grandeur. This valley is delightfully open, and +has a picturesque sprinkling of pines over it, together with a few +well-placed cliffs and crags. Its swift, clear, and winding brooks are +fringed with birch and willow. A river crosses it with many a slow +and splendid fold of silver. + +Not only is the park enchanting from the distance, but every one of +its lakes and meadows, forests and wild gardens, has a charm and a +grandeur of its own. There are lakes of many kinds. One named for the +painter, now dead, who many times sketched and dreamed on its shores, +is a beautiful ellipse; and its entire edge carries a purple shadow +matting of the crowding forest. Its placid surface reflects peak and +snow, cloud and sky, and mingling with these are the green and gold of +pond-lily glory. Another lake is stowed away in an utterly wild place. +It is in a rent between three granite peaks. Three thousand feet of +precipice bristle above it. Its shores are strewn with wreckage from +the cliffs and crags above, and this is here and there cemented +together with winter's drifted snow. Miniature icebergs float upon its +surface. Around it are mossy spaces, beds of sedge, and scattered +alpine flowers, which soften a little the fierce aspect of this +impressive scene. + +On the western margin of the park is a third lake. This lake and its +surroundings are of the highest alpine order. Snow-line and tree-line +are just above it. Several broken and snowy peaks look down into it, +and splendid spruces spire about its shores. Down to it from the +heights and snows above come waters leaping in white glory. It is the +centre of a scene of wild grandeur that stirs in one strange depths of +elemental feeling and wonderment. Up between the domes of one of the +mountains is Gem Lake. It is only a little crystal pool set in ruddy +granite with a few evergreens adorning its rocky shore. So far as I +know, it is the smallest area of water in the world that bears the +name of lake; and it is also one of the rarest gems of the lakelet +world. + +The tree-distribution is most pleasing, and the groves and forests are +a delight. Aged Western yellow pines are sprinkled over the open areas +of the park. They have genuine character, marked individuality. Stocky +and strong-limbed, their golden-brown bark broken into deep fissures +and plateaus, scarred with storm and fire, they make one think and +dream more than any other tree on the Rockies. By the brooks the clean +and childlike aspens mingle with the willow and the alder or the +handsome silver spruce. Some slopes are spread with the green fleece +of massed young lodge-pole pines, and here and there are groves of +Douglas spruce, far from their better home "where rolls the Oregon." +The splendid and spiry Engelmann spruces climb the stern slopes eleven +thousand feet above the ocean, where weird timber-line with its +dwarfed and distorted trees shows the incessant line of battle between +the woods and the weather. + +Every season nearly one thousand varieties of beautiful wild flowers +come to perfume the air and open their "bannered bosoms to the sun." +Many of these are of brightest color. They crowd the streams, wave on +the hills, shine in the woodland vistas, and color the snow-edge. +Daisies, orchids, tiger lilies, fringed gentians, wild red roses, +mariposas, Rocky Mountain columbines, harebells, and forget-me-nots +adorn every space and nook. + +While only a few birds stay in the park the year round, there are +scores of summer visitors who come here to bring up the babies, and +to enliven the air with song. Eagles soar the blue, and ptarmigan, +pipits, and sparrows live on the alpine moorlands. Thrushes fill the +forest aisles with melody, and by the brooks the ever-joyful +water-ouzel mingles its music with the song of ever-hurrying, +ever-flowing waters. Among the many common birds are owls, +meadowlarks, robins, wrens, magpies, bluebirds, chickadees, +nuthatches, and several members of the useful woodpecker family, +together with the white-throated sparrow and the willow thrush. + +Speckled and rainbow trout dart in the streams. Mountain sheep climb +and pose on the crags; bear, deer, and mountain lions are still +occasionally seen prowling the woods or hurrying across the meadows. +The wise coyote is also seen darting under cover, and is frequently +heard during the night. Here among the evergreens is found that small +and audacious bit of intensely interesting and animated life, the +Douglas squirrel, and also one of the dearest of all small animals, +the merry chipmunk. Along the brooks are a few small beaver colonies, +a straggling remnant of a once numerous population. It is to be hoped +that this picturesque and useful race will be allowed to extend its +domain. + +The park has also a glacier, a small but genuine chip of the old +block, the Ice King. The glacier is well worth visiting, especially +late in summer, when the winter mantle is gone from its crevasses, +leaving revealed its blue-green ice and its many grottoes. It is every +inch a glacier. There are other small glaciers above the Park, but +these glacial remnants, though interesting, are not as imposing as the +glacial records, the old works which were deposited by the Ice King. +The many kinds of moraines here display his former occupation and +activities. There are glaciated walls, polished surfaces, eroded +basins, and numerous lateral moraines. One of the moraines is probably +the largest and certainly one of the most interesting in the Rockies. +It occupies about ten square miles on the eastern slope of the +mountain. Above timber-line this and other moraines seem surprisingly +fresh and new, as though they had been formed only a few years, but +below tree-line they are forested, and the accumulation of humus upon +them shows that they have long been bearers of trees. + +The rugged Peak looks down over all this wild garden, and is a +perpetual challenge to those who go up to the sky on mountains. It is +a grand old granite peak. There are not many mountains that require +more effort from the climber, and few indeed can reward him with such +a far-spreading and magnificent view. + +[Illustration: IN THE UNCOMPAHGRE MOUNTAINS] + +One of the most interesting and impressive localities in the Rockies +lies around Mt. Wetterhorn, Mt. Coxcomb, and Uncompahgre Peak. Here I +have found the birds confiding, and most wild animals so tame that it +was a joy to be with them. But this was years ago, and now most of the +wild animals are wilder and the birds have found that man will not +bear acquaintance. Most of this region was recently embraced in the +Uncompahgre National Forest. It has much for the scientist and +nature-lover: the mountain-climber will find peaks to conquer and +caņons to explore; the geologist will find many valuable stone +manuscripts; the forester who interviews the trees will have from +their tongues a story worth while; and here, too, are some of Nature's +best pictures for those who revel only in the lovely and the wild. +It is a strikingly picturesque by-world, where there are many +illuminated and splendid fragments of Nature's story. He who visits +this section will first be attracted by an array of rock-formations, +and, wander where he will, grotesque and beautiful shapes in stone +will frequently attract and interest his attention. + +The rock-formation is made up of mixtures of very unequally tempered +rock metal, which weathers in strange, weird, and impressive shapes. +Much of this statuary is gigantic and uncouth, but some of it is +beautiful. There are minarets, monoliths, domes, spires, and shapeless +fragments. In places there are, seemingly, restive forms not entirely +free from earth. Most of these figures are found upon the crests of +the mountains, and many of the mountain-ridges, with their numerous +spikes and gigantic monoliths, some of which are tilted perilously +from the perpendicular, give one a feeling of awe. Some of the +monoliths appear like broken, knotty tree-trunks. Others stand +straight and suggest the Egyptian obelisks. They hold rude natural +hieroglyphics in relief. One mountain, which is known as Turret-Top, +is crowned with what from a distance seems to be a gigantic +picket-fence. This fence is formed by a row of monolithic stones. + +One of the most remarkable things connected with this strange locality +is that its impressive landscapes may be overturned or blotted out, or +new scenes may be brought forth, in a day. The mountains do not stand +a storm well. A hard rain will dissolve ridges, lay bare new strata, +undermine and overturn cliffs. It seems almost a land of enchantment, +where old landmarks may disappear in a single storm, or an impressive +landscape come forth in a night. Here the god of erosion works +incessantly and rapidly, dissecting the earth and the rocks. During +a single storm a hilltop may dissolve, a mountain-side be fluted with +slides, a grove be overturned and swept away by an avalanche, or a +lake be buried forever. This rapid erosion of slopes and summits +causes many changes and much upbuilding upon their bases. Gulches are +filled, water-courses invaded, rivers bent far to one side, and groves +slowly buried alive. + +One night, while I was in camp on the slope of Mt. Coxcomb, a +prolonged drought was broken by a very heavy rain. Within an hour +after the rain started, a large crag near the top of the peak fell and +came crashing and rumbling down the slope. During the next two hours +I counted the rumbling crash of forty others. I know not how many small +avalanches may have slipped during this time that I did not hear. The +next day I went about looking at the new landscapes and the strata +laid bare by erosion and landslide, and up near the top of this peak +I found a large glaciated lava boulder. A lava boulder that has been +shaped by the ice and has for a time found a resting-place in a +sedentary formation, then been uplifted to near a mountain-top, has a +wonder-story of its own. One day I came across a member of the United +States Geological Survey who had lost his way. At my camp-fire that +evening I asked him to hug facts and tell me a possible story of the +glaciated lava boulder. The following is his account:-- + +The shaping of that boulder must have antedated by ages the shaping of +the Sphinx, and its story, if acceptably told, would seem more like +fancy than fact. If the boulder were to relate, briefly, its +experiences, it might say: "I helped burn forests and strange cities +as I came red-hot from a volcano's throat, and I was scarcely cool +when disintegration brought flowers to cover my dead form. By and by a +long, long winter came, and toward the close of it I was sheared off, +ground, pushed, rolled, and rounded beneath the ice. 'Why are you +grinding me up?' I asked the glacier. 'To make food for the trees and +the flowers during the earth's next temperate epoch,' it answered. One +day a river swept me out of its delta and I rolled to the bottom of +the sea. Here I lay for I know not how long, with sand and boulders +piling upon me. Here heat, weight, and water fixed me in a stratum +of materials that had accumulated below and above me. My stratum was +displaced before it was thoroughly solidified, and I felt myself +slowly raised until I could look out over the surface of the sea. The +waves at once began to wear me, and they jumped up and tore at me +until I was lifted above their reach. At last, when I was many +thousand feet above the waves, I came to a standstill. Then my +mountain-top was much higher than at present. For a long time I looked +down upon a tropical world. I am now wondering if the Ice King will +come for me again." + +The Engelmann spruce forest here is an exceptionally fine one, and the +geologist and I discussed it and trees in general. Some of the Indian +tribes of the Rockies have traditions of a "Big Fire" about four +centuries ago. There is some evidence of a general fire over the +Rockies about the time that the Indian's tradition places it, but in +this forest there were no indications that there had ever been a fire. +Trees were in all stages of growth and decay. Humus was deep. Here I +found a stump of a Douglas spruce that was eleven feet high and about +nine feet in diameter. It was so decayed that I could not decipher the +rings of growth. This tree probably required at least a thousand years +to reach maturity, and many years must have elapsed for its wood to +come to the present state of decay. Over this stump was spread the +limbs of a live tree that was four hundred years of age. + +Trees have tongues, and in this forest I interviewed many patriarchs, +had stories from saplings, examined the mouldy, musty records of many +a family tree, and dug up some buried history. The geologist wanted in +story form a synopsis of what the records said and what the trees told +me, so I gave him this account:-- + +"We climbed in here some time after the retreat of the last Ice King +and found aspen and lodge-pole pine in possession. These trees fought +us for several generations, but we finally drove them out. For ages +the Engelmann spruce family has had undisputed possession of this +slope. We stand amid three generations of mouldering ancestors, and +beneath these is the sacred mould of older generations still. + +[Illustration: A GRASS-PLOT AMONG ENGELMANN SPRUCE] + +"One spring, when most of the present grown-up trees were very young, +the robins, as they flew north, were heard talking of strange men who +were exploring the West Indies. A few years later came the big fire +over the Rockies, which for months choked the sky with smoke. Fire did +not get into our gulch, but from birds and bears which crowded into it +we learned that straggling trees and a few groves on the Rockies were +all that had escaped with their lives. Since we had been spared, we +all sent out our seed for tree-colonies as rapidly as we could, and in +so doing we received much help from the birds, the squirrels, and the +bears, so that it was not long before we again had our plumes waving +everywhere over the Rockies. About a hundred and sixty years ago, an +earthquake shook many of us down and wounded thousands of others with +the rock bombardment from the cliffs. The drought a century ago was +hard on us, and many perished for water. Not long after the drought we +began to see the trappers, but they never did us any harm. Most of +them were as careful of our temples as were the Indians. While the +trappers still roamed, there came a very snowy winter, and snow-slides +mowed us down by thousands. Many of us were long buried beneath the +snow. The old trees became dreadfully alarmed, and they feared that +the Ice King was returning. For weeks they talked of nothing else, but +in the spring, when the mountain-sides began to warm and peel off in +earth-avalanches, we had a real danger to discuss. + +"Shortly after the snowy winter, the gold-seekers came with their +fire havoc. For fifty years we have done our best to hold our ground, +but beyond our gulch relentless fire and flashing steel, together with +the floods with which outraged Nature seeks to revenge herself, have +slain the grand majority, and much, even, of the precious dust of our +ancestors has been washed away." + +With the exception of the night I had the geologist, my days and +nights in this locality were spent entirely alone. The blaze of the +camp-fire, moonlight, the music and movement of the winds, light and +shade, and the eloquence of silence all impressed me more deeply here +than anywhere else I have ever been. Every day there was a delightful +play of light and shade, and this was especially effective on the +summits; the ever-changing light upon the serrated mountain-crests +kept constantly altering their tone and outline. Black and white they +stood in midday glare, but a new grandeur was born when these tattered +crags appeared above storm-clouds. Fleeting glimpses of the crests +through a surging storm arouse strange feelings, and one is at bay, +as though having just awakened amid the vast and vague on another +planet. But when the long, white evening light streams from the west +between the minarets, and the black buttressed crags wear the alpine +glow, one's feelings are too deep for words. + +The wind sometimes flowed like a torrent across the ridges, surging +and ripping between the minarets, then bearing down like an avalanche +upon the purple sylvan ocean, where it tossed the trees with boom, +roar, and wild commotion. I usually camped where it showed the most +enthusiasm. Here I often enjoyed the songs or the fierce activities +of the wind. The absence and the presence of wind ever stirred me +strongly. Weird and strange are the feelings that flow as the winds +sweep and sound through the trees. The Storm King has a bugle at his +lips, and a deep, elemental hymn is sung while the blast surges wild +through the pines. Mother Nature is quietly singing, singing soft and +low while the breezes pause and play in the pines. From the past one +has been ever coming, with the future destined ever to go when, with +centuries of worshipful silence, one waits for the winds in the pines. +Ever the good old world grows better both with songs and with silence +in the pines. + +Here the energy and eloquence of silence was at its best. That +all-pervading presence called silence has its happy home within the +forest. Silence sounds rhythmic to all, and attunes all minds to the +strange message, the rhapsody of the universe. Silence is almost as +kind to mortals as its sweet sister sleep. + +A primeval spruce forest crowds all the mountain-slopes of the +Uncompahgre region from an altitude of eight thousand feet to +timber-line. So dense is this forest that only straggling bits of +sun-fire ever fall to the ground. Beneath these spiry, crowding trees +one has only "the twilight of the forest noon." This forest, when seen +from near-by mountain-tops, seems to be a great ragged, purple robe +hanging in folds from the snow-fields, while down through it the white +streams rush. A few crags pierce it, sun-filled grass-plots dot its +expanse at intervals, and here and there it is rent with a vertical +avalanche lane. + +Many a happy journey and delightful climb I have had in the mountains +all alone by moonlight, and in the Uncompahgre district I had many a +moonlight ramble. I know what it is to be alone on high peaks with the +moon, and I have felt the spell that holds the lonely wanderer when, +on a still night, he feels the wistful, tender touch of the summer +air, while the leaves whisper and listen in the moonlight, and the +moon-toned etchings of the pines fall upon the magic forest floor. + +One of the best moonlit times that I have had in this region was +during my last visit to it. One October night I camped in a grass-plot +in the depths of a spruce forest. The white moon rose grandly from +behind the minareted mountain, hesitated for a moment among the +tree-spires, then tranquilly floated up into space. It was a still +night. There was silence in the treetops. The river near by faintly +murmured in repose. Everything was at rest. The grass-plot was full +of romantic light, and on its eastern margin was an etching of spiry +spruce. A dead and broken tree on the edge of the grass-plot looked +like a weird prowler just out of the woods, and seemed half-inclined +to come out into the light and speak to me. All was still. The moonlit +mist clung fantastically to the mossy festoons of the fir trees. +I was miles from the nearest human soul, and as I stood in the +enchanting scene, amid the beautiful mellow light, I seemed to have +been wafted back into the legend-weaving age. The silence was softly +invaded by zephyrs whispering in the treetops, and a few moonlit +clouds that showed shadow centre-boards came lazily drifting along the +bases of the minarets, as though they were looking for some place in +particular, although in no hurry to find it. Heavier cloud-flotillas +followed, and these floated on the forest sea, touching the treetops +with the gentleness of a lover's hand. I lay down by my camp-fire to +let my fancy frolic, and fairest dreams came on. + +It was while camping once on the slope of Mt. Coxcomb that I felt most +strongly the spell of the camp-fire. I wish every one could have a +night by a camp-fire,--by Mother Nature's old hearthstone. When one +sits in the forest within the camp-fire's magic tent of light, amid +the silent, sculptured trees, there go thrilling through one's blood +all the trials and triumphs of our race. The blazing wood, the ragged +and changing flame, the storms and calms, the mingling smoke and +blaze, the shadow-figures that dance against the trees, the scenes and +figures in the fire,--with these, though all are new and strange, yet +you feel at home once more in the woods. A camp-fire in the forest is +the most enchanting place on life's highway by which to have a lodging +for the night. + + + + +Index + + + Alma, 119, 127. + + _Arctostaphylos Uva-Ursi_. _See_ Kinnikinick. + + Aspen, 204-206, 208. + + + Bears, vapor from a bear, 20; + a bear and her cubs, 79; + prospectors besieged by, 217-229; + feeding on choke-cherries, 237. + + Beaver, 238, 242; + usefulness of, 53; + cutting trees, 54-56; + young, 56-58; + houses of, 57; + granary of, 58; + tools of, 58, 59; + dam-building, 59, 60; + growth of a dam, 61; + the dam a highway, 61; + influence of dams on stream-flow, 61-64; + dams catching and holding soil, 64-67; + value of, 67. + + Birds, Rocky Mountain, abundance of, 151, 152, 237; + various species of, 152-159; + song of, 159; + a pet quail, 160-167; + of a mountain park, 241, 242. + + Boulder, a lava, 247-249. + + + Cabin, a night in a deserted, 22, 23. + + Camp-fires, 5, 6, 77; + the spell of the camp-fire, 256, 257. + + Camping outfit, 4. + + Carpenter, Prof. L. G., 4, 83. + + Chambers Lake, 93. + + Chickadee, 155. + + Chipmunk, 242. + + Columbine, 208. + + Cottonwood, broad-leaf, 200. + + Cottonwood, narrow-leaf, 200. + + Coyotes, 77, 242; + Scotch and the, 133-138; + usefulness of, 237. + + Crested Butte, 7. + + Crow, 156-158. + + + Deer, 9. + + Dog, the story of a collie, 131-147; + a St. Bernard and a pet quail, 160, 164-167. + + + Edwinia, 208. + + Electrical phenomena, in winter, 26; + before the Poudre flood, 83-95. + + + Fir, balsam (_Abies lasiocarpa_), 207, 208. + + Fir, Douglas. _See_ Spruce, Douglas. + + Fires, forest, 12, 14; + and the lodge-pole pine, 186, 187, 191, 192; + causes of, 209; + effects of, 209, 210; + Indian tradition of a "Big Fire," 249, 250. + + Flowers, above timber-line, 211-213; + of a mountain park, 241. + + Forestry, an address on, 13, 14. + + + Gem Lake, 240. + + Geneva Park, 217. + + Geologist, a night with a, 247-252. + + Girl, climbing Long's Peak with an eight-year-old, 99-111. + + Glaciation, 234, 235, 243. + + Glaciers, 243. + + Grand Ditch Camp, 93. + + Grand Lake, 14, 15, 22. + + Ground-hog, 110, 237. + + Grouse, 9. + + + Hague's Peak, 84. + + Hoosier Pass, 119, 123. + + Horses, return, 115-118; + Midget, 119-128. + + Hotel, ejected from a, 11. + + + Ice, fine arts of, 12. + + + Kinnikinick, a plant pioneer, 171-175; + its nursery for trees, 175, 176; + growth of, 176, 177; + flowers and fruit of, 177; + as a bed, 177, 178; + a legend of, 178, 179; + reclaiming work of, 180. + + + Lakes, 235, 239, 240. + + Lead Mountain, 9. + + Leadville, 125. + + Lion, mountain, 6, 20, 23; + an epicure, 9, 10; + tracked by a, 10. + + Long's Peak, 15, 84; + a climb up, with a little girl, 99-111; + summit of, 109, 110; + Scotch and the young lady on, 138-141; + a winter climb with Scotch, 142-147; + birds on summit of, 158. + + Loveland, 91. + + + Mammals, 237. + + Medicine Bow National Forest, 23. + + Medicine-men, 10, 11. + + Mesa Verde, 31, 48, 49. + + Moonlight, the mountains by, 254-256. + + Mt. Coxcomb, 244; + camping on the slope of, 246-254, 256. + + Mt. Lincoln, 11, 123. + + Mt. Richthofen, 93. + + Mt. Silverheels, 120, 121. + + Mt. Wetterhorn, 244. + + + Ouzel, water, 100-102, 152, 153, 158, 159. + + + Park, a Rocky Mountain, 238-244. + + Pine, nursed by kinnikinick, 175, 176. + + Pine, lodge-pole, its names, 183; + description of, 183; + its habit of growth, 183, 184; + its aggressive character, 184; + distribution of, 184, 185, 208; + its method of dispersing its seeds, 185-187, 191; + growth of, 187, 188, 193, 194; + as a colonist and pioneer, 189; + cones embedded in, 189, 190; + sunlight necessary to, 190; + fire in a forest of, 191, 192; + enemies of, 193; + uses of, 193; + value of, 193-195. + + Pine, Western yellow, a thousand-year-old, 31-50; + habits of the, 200-204; + character of the, 240. + + _Pinus flexilis_, 188, 208. + + Plants, of the summit-slopes, 235, 236. + + Potentilla, 208. + + Poudre Lakes, 86. + + Poudre Valley, flood in, 83, 95. + + Ptarmigan, 9, 107, 153, 158. + + + Quail, a pet, 161-167. + + + Rabbit, snowshoe, 9. + + Rex, a St. Bernard dog, 160, 164-167. + + Rock, easily eroded, 246. + + Rock-formations, grotesque and beautiful, 245, 246. + + Rocky Mountains, individuality of, 213; + character of, 233, 234. + + + Schoolhouse, a mountain, 13. + + Sheep, mountain, 9; + a flock of, 78. + + Silence, 254. + + Snow, tracks in, 9. + + Snow-cornice, breaking through a, 17. + + Snow-fall, 7. + + Snow-slides, 19, 20; + an adventure with a snow-slide, 24, 25. + + Snowstorm, a, 8. + + Solitaire, 153-155. + + Specimen Mountain, electrical phenomena on, 88-92. + + Spruce, Colorado blue or silver, 207, 208. + + Spruce, Douglas, or Douglas fir, 188, 189, 203, 204; + a large stump, 249. + + Spruce, Engelmann, 188, 189, 208, 241, 249; + the story of a forest of, 250-252. + + Squirrel, Douglas, 242; + as a nurseryman, 34, 35; + and the old pine, 35, 47; + character of, 79; + cutting off and storing cones, 102-104. + + + Thrush, Audubon's hermit, 152, 154. + + Timber-line, 104-107, 208, 209. + + Trap Creek, 94, 95. + + Trees, of the Rocky Mountains, 199-211, 236. _See also individual + species_. + + Turret-Top, 245. + + + Uncompahgre National Forest, 244. + + Uncompahgre Peak, 244. + + Uncompahgre region, wonders of the, 244-256. + + + Wind, 253. + + Wolves, an adventure with, 71-75. + + Woodpecker, Texas, 39, 40. + + + + +The Riverside Press + +CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS + +U . S . A + + + + +Transcriber's Note + +Variant and inconsistent spellings in the original text have been +retained in this ebook (for instance: kodak, cosy, halfway and +half-way; kinnikinick and Kinnikinick). + +Some illustrations have been moved from their original locations to +paragraph breaks, so as to be nearer to their corresponding text, or +for ease of document navigation. + +Duplicate chapter titles have been removed in the text version and +hidden in the HTML version of this ebook. + +The following typographical corrections have been made to this text: + + Page xi: Changed 64 to 63, to account for illustration repositioning + + Page 27: Changed spendid to splendid (calm and splendid forest) + + Page 202: Changed eight to eighty (eighty-five feet high) + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Wild Life on the Rockies, by Enos A. 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Mills + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Wild Life on the Rockies + +Author: Enos A. Mills + +Release Date: April 12, 2009 [EBook #28562] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILD LIFE ON THE ROCKIES *** + + + + +Produced by Geetu Melwani, C. St. Charleskindt and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file made using scans of public domain works at the +University of Georgia.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;"> +<img src="images/wild_life_cover.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="" title="cover" /> +</div> + +<h1>Wild Life on the Rockies</h1> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;"><a name="LONGS_PEAK_FROM_THE_EAST" id="LONGS_PEAK_FROM_THE_EAST"></a><br /> +<img src="images/frontis_longspeak.jpg" width="440" height="600" alt="LONG'S PEAK FROM THE EAST" title="frontispiece" /> +<span class="caption">LONG'S PEAK FROM THE EAST</span> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<h1>Wild Life on the Rockies</h1> + +<p class="center">By</p> +<p class="center">Enos A. Mills</p> +<p class="center">With Illustrations from Photographs</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 190px;"> +<img style="border: none" src="images/toutbien.png" width="190" height="200" alt="TOUT BIEN OU RIEN" title="publisher's device" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">Boston and New York<br /> +Houghton Mifflin Company<br /> +The Riverside Press Cambridge</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: 85%">COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY ENOS A. MILLS</p> +<p class="center" style="font-size: 85%">ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p> +<p class="center" style="font-size: 85%"><i>Published March 1909</i></p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<p class="center">To</p> +<p class="center">John Muir</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page vii --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">vii</a></span> +</div> + +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2> + +<p>This book contains the record of a few of the many happy days and +novel experiences which I have had in the wilds. For more than twenty +years it has been my good fortune to live most of the time with +nature, on the mountains of the West. I have made scores of long +exploring rambles over the mountains in every season of the year, a +nature-lover charmed with the birds and the trees. On my later +excursions I have gone alone and without firearms. During three +succeeding winters, in which I was a Government Experiment Officer and +called the "State Snow Observer," I scaled many of the higher peaks of +the Rockies and made many studies on the upper slopes of these +mountains.</p> + +<p>"Colorado Snow Observer" was printed in part in <i>The Youth's +Companion</i> for May 18, 1905, under the title of "In the Mountain +Snows"; "The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine" appeared + +<!-- Page viii --> + +<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">viii</a></span> +in <i>The World's +Work</i> for August, 1908; and "The Beaver and his Works" is reprinted +from <i>The World To-Day</i> for December, 1908.</p> + +<p class="right">E. A. M.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page ix --> + +<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">ix</a></span> +<a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a> +</div> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="contents" summary="Table of Contents"> + +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#Colorado_Snow_Observer">Colorado Snow Observer</a></td> +<td class="col2">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#The_Story_of_a_Thousand-Year_Pine">The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine</a></td> +<td class="col2">29</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#The_Beaver_and_his_Works">The Beaver and his Works</a></td> +<td class="col2">51</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#The_Wilds_without_Firearms">The Wilds without Firearms</a></td> +<td class="col2">69</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#A_Watcher_on_the_Heights">A Watcher on the Heights</a></td> +<td class="col2">81</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#Climbing_Longs_Peak">Climbing Long's Peak</a></td> +<td class="col2">97</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#Midget_the_Return_Horse">Midget, the Return Horse</a></td> +<td class="col2">113</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#Faithful_Scotch">Faithful Scotch</a></td> +<td class="col2">129</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#Bob_and_Some_Other_Birds">Bob and Some Other Birds</a></td> +<td class="col2">149</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#Kinnikinick">Kinnikinick</a></td> +<td class="col2">169</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#The_Lodge-Pole_Pine">The Lodge-Pole Pine</a></td> +<td class="col2">181</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#Rocky_Mountain_Forests">Rocky Mountain Forests</a></td> +<td class="col2">197</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#Besieged_by_Bears">Besieged by Bears</a></td> +<td class="col2">215</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#Mountain_Parks_and_Camp-Fires">Mountain Parks and Camp-Fires</a></td> +<td class="col2">231</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><a href="#Index">Index</a></td> +<td class="col2">259</td> +</tr> + +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page xi --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">xi</a></span> +</div> + +<h2><a name="Illustrations" id="Illustrations"></a>Illustrations</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="illustrations" summary="List of Illustrations"> + +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#LONGS_PEAK_FROM_THE_EAST">Long's Peak from the East</a></i></td> +<td class="col2"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#A_MAN_WITH_A_HISTORY">A Man with a History</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">6</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#THE_CREST_OF_THE_CONTINENT">The Crest of the Continent in Winter, 13,000 Feet above Sea-Level</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">16</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#A_SNOW-SLIDE_TRACK">A Snow-Slide Track</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">20</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#A_VETERAN_WESTERN_YELLOW_PINE">A Veteran Western Yellow Pine</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">32</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#A_BEAVER-HOUSE">A Beaver-House</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">58</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#A_BEAVER-DAM_IN_WINTER">A Beaver-Dam in Winter</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">63</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#LAKE_ODESSA">Lake Odessa</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">76</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#ON_THE_HEIGHTS">On the Heights</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">84</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#A_STORM_ON_THE_ROCKIES">A Storm on the Rockies</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">94</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#LONGS_PEAK_FROM_THE_SUMMIT">Long's Peak from the Summit of Mt. Meeker</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">100</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#ON_THE_TIP-TOP">On the Tip-Top of Long's Peak</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">110</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#A_MINER_ON_A_RETURN_HORSE">A Miner on a Return Horse</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">116</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#SCOTCH_NEAR_TIMBER_LINE">Scotch near Timber-Line</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">132</td> +</tr> + +<!-- Page xii --> + +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#THE_CLOUD-CAPPED_CONTINENTAL_DIVIDE">The Cloud-Capped Continental Divide</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">144</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#PTARMIGAN">Ptarmigan</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">158</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#SUMMER_AT_AN_ALTITUDE">Summer at an Altitude of 12,000 Feet</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">178</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#A_TYPICAL_LODGE-POLE_FOREST">A Typical Lodge-Pole Forest</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">184</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#ASPENS">Aspens</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">204</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#A_GROVE_OF_SILVER_SPRUCE">A Grove of Silver Spruce</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">208</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#OURAY_COLORADO">Ouray, Colorado, a Typical Mining Town</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">218</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#ESTES_PARK">Estes Park and the Big Thompson River from the Top of Mt. Olympus</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">238</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#IN_THE_UNCOMPAHGRE_MOUNTAINS">In the Uncompahgre Mountains</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">244</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="col1"><i><a href="#A_GRASS-PLOT">A Grass-Plot among Engelmann Spruce</a></i></td> +<td class="col2">250</td> +</tr> + +</table> +</div> + +<h2 class="hidden">Colorado Snow Observer</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 3 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span> +<a name="Colorado_Snow_Observer" id="Colorado_Snow_Observer"></a> +</div> + +<h2>Colorado Snow Observer</h2> + +<p>"Where are you going?" was the question asked me one snowy winter day. +After hearing that I was off on a camping-trip, to be gone several +days, and that the place where I intended to camp was in deep snow on +the upper slopes of the Rockies, the questioners laughed heartily. +Knowing me, some questioners realized that I was in earnest, and all +that they could say in the nature of argument or appeal was said to +cause me to "forego the folly." But I went, and in the romance of a +new world—on the Rockies in winter—I lived intensely through ten +strong days and nights, and gave to my life new and rare experiences. +Afterwards I made other winter excursions, all of which were stirring +and satisfactory. The recollection of these winter experiences is as +complete and exhilarating as any in the vista of my memory.</p> + +<p>Some years after my first winter camping-trip, I found myself +holding a strange position,—that of + +<!-- Page 4 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> +the "State Snow Observer of +Colorado." I have never heard of another position like it. Professor +L. G. Carpenter, the celebrated irrigation engineer, was making some +original investigations concerning forests and the water-supply. He +persuaded me to take the position, and under his direction I worked +as a government experiment officer. For three successive winters I +traversed the upper slopes of the Rockies and explored the crest of +the continent, alone. While on this work, I was instructed to make +notes on "those things that are likely to be of interest or value +to the Department of Agriculture or the Weather Bureau,"—and to be +careful not to lose my life.</p> + +<p>On these winter trips I carried with me a camera, thermometer, +barometer, compass, notebook, and folding axe. The food carried +usually was only raisins. I left all bedding behind. Notwithstanding +I was alone and in the wilds, I did not carry any kind of a gun.</p> + +<p>The work made it necessary for me to ramble the wintry heights in +sunshine and storm. Often I was out, or rather up, in a blizzard, and +on more + +<!-- Page 5 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> +than one occasion I was out for two weeks on the snow-drifted +crest of the continent, without seeing any one. I went beyond the +trails and visited the silent places alone. I invaded gulches, eagerly +walked the splendid forest aisles, wandered in the dazzling glare on +dreary alpine moorlands, and scaled the peaks over mantles of ice and +snow. I had many experiences,—amusing, dangerous, and exciting. There +was abundance of life and fun in the work. On many an evening darkness +captured me and compelled me to spend the night in the wilds without +bedding, and often without food. During these nights I kept a +camp-fire blazing until daylight released me. When the night was mild, +I managed to sleep a little,—in installments,—rising from time to +time to give wood to the eager fire. Sometimes a scarcity of wood kept +me busy gathering it all night; and sometimes the night was so cold +that I did not risk going to sleep. During these nights I watched my +flaming fountain of fire brighten, fade, surge, and change, or shower +its spray of sparks upon the surrounding snow-flowers. Strange +reveries I have had by these winter + +<!-- Page 6 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> +camp-fires. On a few occasions +mountain lions interrupted my thoughts with their piercing, lonely +cries; and more than once a reverie was pleasantly changed by the +whisper of a chickadee in some near-by tree as a cold comrade snuggled +up to it. Even during the worst of nights, when I thought of my lot at +all. I considered it better than that of those who were sick in houses +or asleep in the stuffy, deadly air of the slums.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<div class="verse"> +"Believe me, 'tis something to be cast<br /> +Face to face with thine own self at last." +</div> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="A_MAN_WITH_A_HISTORY" id="A_MAN_WITH_A_HISTORY"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p006_history.jpg" width="600" height="420" alt="A MAN WITH A HISTORY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A MAN WITH A HISTORY</span> +</div> + +<p>Not all nights were spent outdoors. Many a royal evening was passed in +the cabin of a miner or a prospector, or by the fireside of a family +who for some reason had left the old home behind and sought seclusion +in wild scenes, miles from neighbors. Among Colorado's mountains there +are an unusual number of strong characters who are trying again. They +are strong because broken plans, lost fortunes, or shattered health +elsewhere have not ended their efforts or changed their ideals. Many +are trying to restore health, some are trying again to prosper, others +are just making a start in life, + +<!-- Page 7 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span> +but there are a few who, far from +the madding crowd, are living happily the simple life. Sincerity, +hope, and repose enrich the lives of those who live among the crags +and pines of mountain fastnesses. Many a happy evening I have had with +a family, or an old prospector, who gave me interesting scraps of +autobiography along with a lodging for the night.</p> + +<p>The snow-fall on the mountains of Colorado is very unevenly +distributed, and is scattered through seven months of the year. Two +places only a few miles apart, and separated by a mountain-range, may +have very different climates, and one of these may have twice as much +snow-fall as the other. On the middle of the upper slopes of the +mountains the snow sometimes falls during seven months of the year. +At an altitude of eleven thousand feet the annual fall amounts to +eighteen feet. This is several times the amount that falls at an +altitude of six thousand feet. In a locality near Crested Butte the +annual fall is thirty feet, and during snowy winters even fifty feet. +Most winter days are clear, and the climate less severe than is +usually imagined.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 8 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> +</div> + +<p>One winter I walked on snowshoes on the upper slopes of the "snowy" +range of the Rockies, from the Wyoming line on the north to near the +New Mexico line on the south. This was a long walk, and it was full of +amusement and adventure. I walked most of the way on the crest of the +continent. The broken nature of the surface gave me ups and downs. +Sometimes I would descend to the level of seven thousand feet, and +occasionally I climbed some peak that was fourteen thousand feet above +the tides.</p> + +<p>I had not been out many days on this trip when I was caught in a storm +on the heights above tree-line. I at once started downward for the +woods. The way among the crags and precipices was slippery; the wind +threatened every moment to hurl me over a cliff; the wind-blown snow +filled the air so that I could see only a few feet, and at times not +at all. But it was too cold to stop. For two hours I fought my way +downward through the storm, and so dark was it during the last +half-hour that I literally felt my way with my staff. Once in the +woods, I took off a snowshoe, dug a large hole in the snow down to the + +<!-- Page 9 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span> +earth, built a fire, and soon forgot the perilous descent. After +eating from my supply of raisins, I dozed a little, and woke to find +all calm and the moon shining in glory on a snowy mountain-world of +peaks and pines. I put on my snowshoes, climbed upward beneath the +moon, and from the summit of Lead Mountain, thirteen thousand feet +high, saw the sun rise in splendor on a world of white.</p> + +<p>The tracks and records in the snow which I read in passing made +something of a daily newspaper for me. They told much of news of the +wilds. Sometimes I read of the games that the snowshoe rabbit had +played; of a starving time among the brave mountain sheep on the +heights; of the quiet content in the ptarmigan neighborhood; of the +dinner that the pines had given the grouse; of the amusements and +exercises on the deer's stamping-ground; of the cunning of foxes; of +the visits of magpies, the excursions of lynxes, and the red records +of mountain lions.</p> + +<p>The mountain lion is something of a game-hog and an epicure. He +prefers warm blood for every meal, and is very wasteful. I have much +evidence + +<!-- Page 10 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> +against him; his worst one-day record that I have shows five +tragedies. In this time he killed a mountain sheep, a fawn, a grouse, +a rabbit, and a porcupine; and as if this were not enough, he was +about to kill another sheep when a dark object on snowshoes shot down +the slope near by and disturbed him. The instances where he has +attacked human beings are rare, but he will watch and follow one for +hours with the utmost caution and curiosity. One morning after a +night-journey through the wood, I turned back and doubled my trail. +After going a short distance I came to the track of a lion alongside +my own. I went back several miles and read the lion's movements. He +had watched me closely. At every place where I rested he had crept up +close, and at the place where I had sat down against a stump he had +crept up to the opposite side of the stump,—and I fear while I dozed!</p> + +<p>One night during this expedition I had lodging in an old and isolated +prospector's cabin, with two young men who had very long hair. For +months they had been in seclusion, "gathering wonderful herbs," +hunting out prescriptions for + +<!-- Page 11 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> +every human ill, and waiting for their +hair to grow long. I hope they prepared some helpful, or at least +harmless prescriptions, for, ere this, they have become picturesque, +and I fear prosperous, medicine-men on some populous street-corner. +One day I had dinner on the summit of Mt. Lincoln, fourteen thousand +feet above the ocean. I ate with some miners who were digging out +their fortune; and was "the only caller in five months."</p> + +<p>But I was not always a welcome guest. At one of the big mining-camps +I stopped for mail and to rest for a day or so. I was all "rags and +tags," and had several broken strata of geology and charcoal on my +face in addition. Before I had got well into the town, from all +quarters came dogs, each of which seemed determined to make it +necessary for me to buy some clothes. As I had already determined to +do this, I kept the dogs at bay for a time, and then sought refuge in +a first-class hotel; from this the porter, stimulated by an excited +order from the clerk, promptly and literally kicked me out!</p> + +<p>In the robings of winter how different the mountains + +<!-- Page 12 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> +than when +dressed in the bloom of summer! In no place did the change seem more +marked than on some terrace over which summer flung the lacy drapery +of a white cascade, or where a wild waterfall "leapt in glory." These +places in winter were glorified with the fine arts of ice,—"frozen +music," as some one has defined architecture,—for here winter had +constructed from water a wondrous array of columns, panels, filigree, +fretwork, relief-work, arches, giant icicles, and stalagmites as large +as, and in ways resembling, a big tree with a fluted full-length +mantle of ice.</p> + +<p>Along the way were extensive areas covered with the ruins of +fire-killed trees. Most of the forest fires which had caused these +were the result of carelessness. The timber destroyed by these fires +had been needed by thousands of home-builders. The robes of beauty +which they had burned from the mountain-sides are a serious loss. +These fire ruins preyed upon me, and I resolved to do something to +save the remaining forests. The opportunity came shortly after the +resolution was made.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 13 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> +</div> + +<p>Two days before reaching the objective point, farthest south, my food +gave out, and I fasted. But as soon as I reached the end, I started +to descend the heights, and very naturally knocked at the door of the +first house I came to, and asked for something to eat. I supposed I +was at a pioneer's cabin. A handsome, neatly dressed young lady came +to the door, and when her eyes fell upon me she blushed and then +turned pale. I was sorry that my appearance had alarmed her, but I +repeated my request for something to eat. Just then, through the +half-open door behind the young lady, came the laughter of children, +and a glance into the room told me that I was before a mountain +schoolhouse. By this time the teacher, to whom I was talking, startled +me by inviting me in. As I sat eating a luncheon to which the teacher +and each one of the six school-children contributed, the teacher +explained to me that she was recently from the East, and that I so +well fitted her ideas of a Western desperado that she was frightened +at first. When I finished eating, I made my first after-dinner speech; +it was also my first attempt to make a forestry address. One point I +tried + +<!-- Page 14 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> +to bring out was concerning the destruction wrought by forest +fires. Among other things I said: "During the past few years in +Colorado, forest fires, which ought never to have been started, have +destroyed many million dollars' worth of timber, and the area +over which the fires have burned aggregates twenty-five thousand +square miles. This area of forest would put on the equator an +evergreen-forest belt one mile wide that would reach entirely around +the world. Along with this forest have perished many of the animals +and thousands of beautiful birds who had homes in it."</p> + +<p>I finally bade all good-bye, went on my way rejoicing, and in due +course arrived at Denver, where a record of one of my longest winter +excursions was written.</p> + +<p>In order to give an idea of one of my briefer winter walks, I close +this chapter with an account of a round-trip snowshoe journey from +Estes Park to Grand Lake, the most thrilling and adventurous that has +ever entertained me on the trail.</p> + +<p>One February morning I set off alone on snowshoes to cross the +"range," for the purpose of + +<!-- Page 15 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> +making some snow-measurements. The nature +of my work for the State required the closest observation of the +character and extent of the snow in the mountains. I hoped to get to +Grand Lake for the night, but I was on the east side of the range, and +Grand Lake was on the west. Along the twenty-five miles of trail there +was only wilderness, without a single house. The trail was steep and +the snow very soft. Five hours were spent in gaining timber-line, +which was only six miles from my starting-place, but four thousand +feet above it. Rising in bold grandeur above me was the summit of +Long's Peak, and this, with the great hills of drifted snow, out of +which here and there a dwarfed and distorted tree thrust its top, made +timber-line seem weird and lonely.</p> + +<p>From this point the trail wound for six miles across bleak heights +before it came down to timber on the other side of the range. I set +forward as rapidly as possible, for the northern sky looked stormy. +I must not only climb up fifteen hundred feet, but must also skirt +the icy edges of several precipices in order to gain the summit. My +friends had warned me that the trip was a foolhardy + +<!-- Page 16 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> +one even on a +clear, calm day, but I was fated to receive the fury of a snowstorm +while on the most broken portion of the trail.</p> + +<p>The tempest came on with deadly cold and almost blinding violence. The +wind came with awful surges, and roared and boomed among the crags. +The clouds dashed and seethed along the surface, shutting out all +landmarks. I was every moment in fear of slipping or being blown over +a precipice, but there was no shelter; I was on the roof of the +continent, twelve thousand five hundred feet above sea-level, and to +stop in the bitter cold meant death.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="THE_CREST_OF_THE_CONTINENT" id="THE_CREST_OF_THE_CONTINENT"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p016_crest.jpg" width="600" height="365" alt="THE CREST OF THE CONTINENT IN WINTER, 13,000 FEET ABOVE +SEA-LEVEL" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE CREST OF THE CONTINENT IN WINTER, 13,000 FEET ABOVE +SEA-LEVEL</span> +</div> + +<p>It was still three miles to timber on the west slope, and I found it +impossible to keep the trail. Fearing to perish if I tried to follow +even the general course of the trail, I abandoned it altogether, and +started for the head of a gorge, down which I thought it would be +possible to climb to the nearest timber. Nothing definite could be +seen. The clouds on the snowy surface and the light electrified air +gave the eye only optical illusions. The outline of every object was +topsy-turvy and dim. The large stones that I thought to step on + +<!-- Page 17 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> +were not there; and, when apparently passing others, I bumped into +them. Several times I fell headlong by stepping out for a drift and +finding a depression.</p> + +<p>In the midst of these illusions I walked out on a snow-cornice that +overhung a precipice! Unable to see clearly, I had no realization of +my danger until I felt the snow giving way beneath me. I had seen the +precipice in summer, and knew it was more than a thousand feet to the +bottom! Down I tumbled, carrying a large fragment of the snow-cornice +with me. I could see nothing, and I was entirely helpless. Then, just +as the full comprehension of the awful thing that was happening swept +over me, the snow falling beneath me suddenly stopped. I plunged into +it, completely burying myself. Then I, too, no longer moved downward; +my mind gradually admitted the knowledge that my body, together with +a considerable mass of the snow, had fallen upon a narrow ledge and +caught there. More of the snow came tumbling after me, and it was a +matter of some minutes before I succeeded in extricating myself.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 18 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> +</div> + +<p>When I thrust my head out of the snow-mass and looked about me, I was +first appalled by a glance outward, which revealed the terrible height +of the precipice on the face of which I was hanging. Then I was +relieved by a glance upward, which showed me that I was only some +twenty feet from the top, and that a return thither would not be very +difficult. But if I had walked from the top a few feet farther back, +I should have fallen a quarter of a mile.</p> + +<p>One of my snowshoes came off as I struggled out, so I took off the +other shoe and used it as a scoop to uncover the lost web. But it +proved very slow and dangerous work. With both shoes off I sank +chest-deep in the snow; if I ventured too near the edge of the ledge, +the snow would probably slip off and carry me to the bottom of the +precipice. It was only after two hours of effort that the shoe was +recovered.</p> + +<p>When I first struggled to the surface of the snow on the ledge, I +looked at once to find a way back to the top of the precipice. I +quickly saw that by following the ledge a few yards beneath the +unbroken snow-cornice I could climb to the top + +<!-- Page 19 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> +over some jagged +rocks. As soon as I had recovered the shoe, I started round the ledge. +When I had almost reached the jagged rocks, the snow-cornice caved +upon me, and not only buried me, but came perilously near knocking me +into the depths beneath. But at last I stood upon the top in safety.</p> + +<p>A short walk from the top brought me out upon a high hill of snow that +sloped steeply down into the woods. The snow was soft, and I sat down +in it and slid "a blue streak"—my blue overalls recording the +streak—for a quarter of a mile, and then came to a sudden and +confusing stop; one of my webs had caught on a spine of one of the +dwarfed and almost buried trees at timber-line.</p> + +<p>When I had traveled a short distance below timber-line, a fearful +crashing caused me to turn; I was in time to see fragments of snow +flying in all directions, and snow-dust boiling up in a great geyser +column. A snow-slide had swept down and struck a granite cliff. As I +stood there, another slide started on the heights above timber, and +with a far-off roar swept down in awful magnificence, + +<!-- Page 20 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span> +with a +comet-like tail of snow-dust. Just at timber-line it struck a ledge +and glanced to one side, and at the same time shot up into the air so +high that for an instant I saw the treetops beneath it. But it came +back to earth with awful force, and I felt the ground tremble as it +crushed a wide way through the woods. It finally brought up at the +bottom of a gulch with a wreckage of hundreds of noble spruce trees +that it had crushed down and swept before it.</p> + +<p>As I had left the trail on the heights, I was now far from it and in a +rugged and wholly unfrequented section, so that coming upon the fresh +tracks of a mountain lion did not surprise me. But I was not prepared +for what occurred soon afterward. Noticing a steamy vapor rising from +a hole in the snow by the protruding roots of an overturned tree, I +walked to the hole to learn the cause of it. One whiff of the vapor +stiffened my hair and limbered my legs. I shot down a steep slope, +dodging trees and rocks. The vapor was rank with the odor from a bear.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;"><a name="A_SNOW-SLIDE_TRACK" id="A_SNOW-SLIDE_TRACK"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p020_snowslide.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="A SNOW-SLIDE TRACK" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A SNOW-SLIDE TRACK</span> +</div> + +<p>At the bottom of the slope I found the frozen surface + +<!-- Page 21 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span> +of a stream +much easier walking than the soft snow. All went well until I came to +some rapids, where, with no warning whatever, the thin ice dropped me +into the cold current among the boulders. I scrambled to my feet, with +the ice flying like broken glass. The water came only a little above +my knees, but as I had gone under the surface, and was completely +drenched, I made an enthusiastic move toward the bank. Now snowshoes +are not adapted for walking either in swift water or among boulders. +I realized this thoroughly after they had several times tripped me, +sprawling, into the liquid cold. Finally I sat down in the water, took +them off, and came out gracefully.</p> + +<p>I gained the bank with chattering teeth and an icy armor. My pocket +thermometer showed two degrees above zero. Another storm was bearing +down upon me from the range, and the sun was sinking. But the worst of +it all was that there were several miles of rough and strange country +between me and Grand Lake that would have to be made in the dark. I +did not care to take any more chances on the ice, so I spent a hard +hour climbing + +<!-- Page 22 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> +out of the cañon. The climb warmed me and set my +clothes steaming.</p> + +<p>My watch indicated six o'clock. A fine snow was falling, and it was +dark and cold. I had been exercising for twelve hours without rest, +and had eaten nothing since the previous day, as I never take +breakfast. I made a fire and lay down on a rock by it to relax, and +also to dry my clothes. In half an hour I started on again. Rocky and +forest-covered ridges lay between me and Grand Lake. In the darkness +I certainly took the worst way. I met with too much resistance in the +thickets and too little on the slippery places, so that when, at +eleven o'clock that night, I entered a Grand Lake Hotel, my appearance +was not prepossessing.</p> + +<p>The next day, after a few snow-measurements, I set off to re-cross the +range. In order to avoid warm bear-dens and cold streams, I took a +different route. It was a much longer way than the one I had come by, +so I went to a hunter's deserted cabin for the night. The cabin had no +door, and I could see the stars through the roof. The old sheet-iron +stove was badly rusted and broken. + +<!-- Page 23 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> +Most of the night I spent chopping +wood, and I did not sleep at all. But I had a good rest by the stove, +where I read a little from a musty pamphlet on palmistry that I found +between the logs of the cabin. I always carry candles with me. When +the wind is blowing, the wood damp, and the fingers numb, they are of +inestimable value in kindling a fire. I do not carry firearms, and +during the night, when a lion gave a blood-freezing screech, I wished +he were somewhere else.</p> + +<p>Daylight found me climbing toward the top of the range through the +Medicine Bow National Forest, among some of the noblest evergreens in +Colorado. When the sun came over the range, the silent forest vistas +became magnificent with bright lights and deep shadows. At timber-line +the bald rounded summit of the range, like a gigantic white turtle, +rose a thousand feet above me. The slope was steep and very icy; a +gusty wind whirled me about. Climbing to the top would be like going +up a steep ice-covered house-roof. It would be a dangerous and barely +possible undertaking. But as I did not have courage enough + +<!-- Page 24 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> +to retreat, I threw off my snowshoes and started up. I cut a place in the +ice for every step. There was nothing to hold to, and a slip meant a +fatal slide.</p> + +<p>With rushes from every quarter, the wind did its best to freeze or +overturn me. My ears froze, and my fingers grew so cold that they +could hardly hold the ice-axe. But after an hour of constant peril and +ever-increasing exhaustion, I got above the last ice and stood upon +the snow. The snow was solidly packed, and, leaving my snowshoes +strapped across my shoulders, I went scrambling up. Near the top of +the range a ledge of granite cropped out through the snow, and toward +this I hurried. Before making a final spurt to the ledge, I paused to +breathe. As I stopped, I was startled by sounds like the creaking of +wheels on a cold, snowy street. The snow beneath me was slipping! I +had started a snow-slide.</p> + +<p>Almost instantly the slide started down the slope with me on it. The +direction in which it was going and the speed it was making would in +a few seconds carry it down two thousand feet of slope, + +<!-- Page 25 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span> +where it would +leap over a precipice into the woods. I was on the very upper edge of +the snow that had started, and this was the tail-end of the slide. I +tried to stand up in the rushing snow, but its speed knocked my feet +from under me, and in an instant I was rolled beneath the surface. +Beneath the snow, I went tumbling on with it for what seemed like a +long time, but I know, of course, that it was for only a second or +two; then my feet struck against something solid. I was instantly +flung to the surface again, where I either was spilled off, or else +fell through, the end of the slide, and came to a stop on the scraped +and frozen ground, out of the grasp of the terrible snow.</p> + +<p>I leaped to my feet and saw the slide sweep on in most impressive +magnificence. At the front end of the slide the snow piled higher +and higher, while following in its wake were splendid streamers and +scrolls of snow-dust. I lost no time in getting to the top, and set +off southward, where, after six miles, I should come to the trail that +led to my starting-place on the east side of the range. After I had +made about three miles, the cold clouds + +<!-- Page 26 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> +closed in, and everything was +fogged. A chilly half-hour's wait and the clouds broke up. I had lost +my ten-foot staff in the snow-slide, and feeling for precipices +without it would probably bring me out upon another snow-cornice, so +I took no chances.</p> + +<p>I was twelve thousand five hundred feet above sea-level when the +clouds broke up, and from this great height I looked down upon what +seemed to be the margin of the polar world. It was intensely cold, but +the sun shone with dazzling glare, and the wilderness of snowy peaks +came out like a grand and jagged ice-field in the far south. Halos +and peculiarly luminous balls floated through the color-tinged and +electrical air. The horizon had a touch of cobalt blue, and on the +dome above, white flushes appeared and disappeared like faint auroras. +After five hours on these silent but imposing heights I struck my +first day's trail, and began a wild and merry coast down among the +rocks and trees to my starting-place.</p> + +<p>I hope to have more winter excursions, but perhaps I have had my +share. At the bare thought of + +<!-- Page 27 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> +those winter experiences I am again +on an unsheltered peak struggling in a storm; or I am in a calm and +splendid forest upon whose snowy, peaceful aisles fall the purple +shadows of crags and pines.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 31 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> +<a name="The_Story_of_a_Thousand-Year_Pine" id="The_Story_of_a_Thousand-Year_Pine"></a> +</div> + +<h2>The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine</h2> + +<p>The peculiar charm and fascination that trees exert over many people +I had always felt from childhood, but it was that great nature-lover, +John Muir, who first showed me how and where to learn their language. +Few trees, however, ever held for me such an attraction as did a +gigantic and venerable yellow pine which I discovered one autumn day +several years ago while exploring the southern Rockies. It grew within +sight of the Cliff-Dwellers' Mesa Verde, which stands at the corner +of four States, and as I came upon it one evening just as the sun +was setting over that mysterious tableland, its character and heroic +proportions made an impression upon me that I shall never forget, and +which familiar acquaintance only served to deepen while it yet lived +and before the axeman came. Many a time I returned to build my +camp-fire by it and have a + +<!-- Page 32 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> +day or a night in its solitary and noble +company. I learned afterwards that it had been given the name "Old +Pine," and it certainly had an impressiveness quite compatible with +the age and dignity which go with a thousand years of life.</p> + +<p>When, one day, the sawmill-man at Mancos wrote, "Come, we are about to +log your old pine," I started at once, regretting that a thing which +seemed to me so human, as well as so noble, must be killed.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><a name="A_VETERAN_WESTERN_YELLOW_PINE" id="A_VETERAN_WESTERN_YELLOW_PINE"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p032_yellowpine.jpg" width="350" height="600" alt="A VETERAN WESTERN YELLOW PINE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A VETERAN WESTERN YELLOW PINE</span> +</div> + +<p>I went out with the axemen who were to cut the old pine down. A grand +and impressive tree he was. Never have I seen so much individuality, +so much character, in a tree. Although lightning had given him a bald +crown, he was still a healthy giant, and was waving evergreen banners +more than one hundred and fifteen feet above the earth. His massive +trunk, eight feet in diameter on a level with my breast, was covered +with a thick, rough, golden-brown bark which was broken into irregular +plates. Several of his arms were bent and broken. Altogether, he +presented a timeworn but heroic appearance.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 33 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> +</div> + +<p>It is almost a marvel that trees should live to become the oldest of +living things. Fastened in one place, their struggle is incessant and +severe. From the moment a baby tree is born—from the instant it casts +its tiny shadow upon the ground—until death, it is in danger from +insects and animals. It cannot move to avoid danger. It cannot run +away to escape enemies. Fixed in one spot, almost helpless, it must +endure flood and drought, fire and storm, insects and earthquakes, or +die.</p> + +<p>Trees, like people, struggle for existence, and an aged tree, like an +aged person, has not only a striking appearance, but an interesting +biography. I have read the autobiographies of many century-old trees, +and have found their life-stories strange and impressive. The yearly +growth, or annual ring of wood with which trees envelop themselves, is +embossed with so many of their experiences that this annual ring of +growth literally forms an autobiographic diary of the tree's life.</p> + +<p>I wanted to read Old Pine's autobiography. A veteran pine that had +stood on the southern Rockies and struggled and triumphed through the + +<!-- Page 34 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> +changing seasons of hundreds of years must contain a rare life-story. +From his stand between the Mesa and the pine-plumed mountain, he had +seen the panorama of the seasons and many a strange pageant; he +had beheld what scenes of animal and human strife, what storms and +convulsions of nature! Many a wondrous secret he had locked within his +tree soul. Yet, although he had not recorded what he had <i>seen</i>, +I knew that he had kept a fairly accurate diary of his own personal +experience. This I knew the saw would reveal, and this I had +determined to see.</p> + +<p>Nature matures a million conifer seeds for each one she chooses for +growth, so we can only speculate as to the selection of the seed from +which sprung this storied pine. It may be that the cone in which it +matured was crushed into the earth by the hoof of a passing deer. It +may have been hidden by a jay; or, as is more likely, it may have +grown from one of the uneaten cones which a Douglas squirrel had +buried for winter food. Douglas squirrels are the principal nurserymen +for all the Western pineries. Each autumn they harvest a heavy +percentage of the cone + +<!-- Page 35 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> +crop and bury it for winter. The seeds in the +uneaten cones germinate, and each year countless thousands of conifers +grow from the seeds planted by these squirrels. It may be that the +seed from which Old Pine burst had been planted by an ancient ancestor +of the protesting Douglas who was in possession, or this seed may have +been in a cone which simply bounded or blew into a hole, where the +seed found sufficient mould and moisture to give it a start in life.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Two loggers swung their axes. At the first blow a Douglas squirrel +came out of a hole at the base of a dead limb near the top of the tree +and made an aggressive claim of ownership, setting up a vociferous +protest against the cutting. As his voice was unheeded, he came +scolding down the tree, jumped off one of the lower limbs, and took +refuge in a young pine that stood near by. From time to time he came +out on the top of the limb nearest to us, and, with a wry face, fierce +whiskers, and violent gestures, directed a torrent of abuse at the +axemen who were delivering death-blows to Old Pine.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 36 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> +</div> + +<p>The old pine's enormous weight caused him to fall heavily, and he came +to earth with tremendous force and struck on an elbow of one of his +stocky arms. The force of the fall not only broke the trunk in two, +but badly shattered it. The damage to the log was so general that the +sawmill-man said it would not pay to saw it into lumber and that it +could rot on the spot.</p> + +<p>I had come a long distance for the express purpose of deciphering Old +Pine's diary as the scroll of his life should be laid open in the +sawmill. The abandonment of the shattered form compelled the adoption +of another way of getting at his story. Receiving permission to do as +I pleased with his remains, I at once began to cut and split both the +trunk and the limbs and to transcribe their strange records. Day after +day I worked. I dug up the roots and thoroughly dissected them, and +with the aid of a magnifier I studied the trunk, the roots, and the +limbs.</p> + +<p>I carefully examined the base of his stump, and in it I found 1047 +rings of growth! He had lived through a thousand and forty-seven +memorable + +<!-- Page 37 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span> +years. As he was cut down in 1903, his birth probably +occurred in 856.</p> + +<p>In looking over the rings of growth, I found that a few of them were +much thicker than the others; and these thick rings, or coats of wood, +tell of favorable seasons. There were also a few extremely thin rings +of growth. In places two and even three of these were together. These +were the result of unfavorable seasons,—of drought or cold. The +rings of trees also show healed wounds, and tell of burns, bites, +and bruises, of torn bark and broken arms. Old Pine not only received +injuries in his early years, but from time to time throughout his +life. The somewhat kinked condition of several of the rings of growth, +beginning with the twentieth, shows that at the age of twenty he +sustained an injury which resulted in a severe curvature of the spine, +and that for some years he was somewhat stooped. I was unable to make +out from his diary whether this injury was the result of a tree or +some object falling upon him and pinning him down, or whether his back +had been overweighted and bent by wet, clinging snow. As I could not +find + +<!-- Page 38 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> +any scars or bruises, I think that snow must have been the cause +of the injury. However, after a few years he straightened up with +youthful vitality and seemed to outgrow and forget the experience.</p> + +<p>A century of tranquil life followed, and during these years the rapid +growth tells of good seasons as well as good soil. This rapid growth +also shows that there could not have been any crowding neighbors to +share the sun and the soil. The tree had grown evenly in all quarters, +and the pith of the tree was in the centre. But had one tree grown +close, on that quarter the old pine would have grown slower than the +others and would have been thinner, and the pith would thus have been +away from the tree's centre.</p> + +<p>When the old pine was just completing his one hundred and thirty-fifth +ring of growth, he met with an accident which I can account for only +by assuming that a large tree that grew several yards away blew over, +and in falling, stabbed him in the side with two dead limbs. His bark +was broken and torn, but this healed in due time. Short sections of +the dead limbs broke off, however, + +<!-- Page 39 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> +and were embedded in the old pine. +Twelve years' growth covered them, and they remained hidden from view +until my splitting revealed them. The other wounds started promptly to +heal and, with one exception, did so.</p> + +<p>A year or two later some ants and borers began excavating their deadly +winding ways in the old pine. They probably started to work in one +of the places injured by the falling tree. They must have had some +advantage, or else something must have happened to the nuthatches and +chickadees that year, for, despite the vigilance of these birds, both +the borers and the ants succeeded in establishing colonies that +threatened injury and possibly death.</p> + +<p>Fortunately relief came. One day the chief surgeon of all the +Southwestern pineries came along. This surgeon was the Texas +woodpecker. He probably did not long explore the ridges and little +furrows of the bark before he discovered the wound or heard these +hidden insects working. After a brief examination, holding his ear to +the bark for a moment to get the location of the tree's deadly foe +beneath, he was ready to act. He + +<!-- Page 40 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> +made two successful operations. +These not only required him to cut deeply into the old pine and take +out the borers, but he may also have had to come back from time to +time to dress the wounds by devouring the ant-colonies which may have +persisted in taking possession of them. The wounds finally healed, and +only the splitting of the affected parts revealed these records, all +filled with pitch and preserved for nearly nine hundred years.</p> + +<p>Following this, an even tenor marked his life for nearly three +centuries. This quiet existence came to an end in the summer of 1301, +when a stroke of lightning tore a limb out of his round top and badly +shattered a shoulder. He had barely recovered from this injury when a +violent wind tore off several of his arms. During the summer of 1348 +he lost two of his largest arms. These were large and sound, and were +more than a foot in diameter at the points of breakage. As these were +broken by a down-pressing weight or force, we may attribute these +breaks to accumulations of snow.</p> + +<p>The oldest, largest portion of a tree is the short section + +<!-- Page 41 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> +immediately above the ground, and, as this lower section is the most +exposed to accidents or to injuries from enemies, it generally bears +evidence of having suffered the most. Within its scroll are usually +found the most extensive and interesting autobiographical impressions.</p> + +<p>It is doubtful if there is any portion of the earth upon which there +are so many deadly struggles as upon the earth around the trunk of a +tree. Upon this small arena there are battles fierce and wild; here +nature is "red in tooth and claw." When a tree is small and tender, +countless insects come to feed upon it. Birds come to it to devour +these insects. Around the tree are daily almost merciless fights for +existence. These death-struggles occur not only in the daytime, but in +the night. Mice, rats, and rabbits destroy millions of young trees. +These bold animals often flay baby trees in the daylight, and while at +their deadly feast many a time have they been surprised by hawks, and +then they are at a banquet where they themselves are eaten. The owl, +the faithful nightwatchman of trees, often + +<!-- Page 42 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> +swoops down at night, and +as a result some little tree is splashed with the blood of the very +animal that came to feed upon it.</p> + +<p>The lower section of Old Pine's trunk contained records which I found +interesting. One of these in particular aroused my imagination. I was +sawing off a section of this lower portion when the saw, with a +buzz-z-z-z, suddenly jumped. The object struck was harder than the +saw. I wondered what it could be, and, cutting the wood carefully +away, laid bare a flint arrowhead. Close to this one I found another, +and then with care I counted the rings of growth to find out the year +that these had wounded Old Pine. The outer ring which these arrowheads +had pierced was the six hundred and thirtieth, so that the year of +this occurrence was 1486.</p> + +<p>Had an Indian bent his bow and shot at a bear that had stood at bay +backed up against this tree? Or was there around this tree a battle +among Indian tribes? Is it possible that at this place some +Cliff-Dweller scouts encountered their advancing foe from the north +and opened hostilities? It may be that around Old Pine was fought the + +<!-- Page 43 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> +battle that is said to have decided the fate of that mysterious race +the Cliff-Dwellers. The imagination insists on speculating with these +two arrowheads, though they form a fascinating clue that leads us to +no definite conclusion. But the fact remains that Old Pine was wounded +by two Indian arrowheads some time during his six hundred and +thirtieth summer.</p> + +<p>The year that Columbus discovered America, Old Pine was a handsome +giant with a round head held more than one hundred feet above the +earth. He was six hundred and thirty-six years old, and with the +coming of the Spanish adventurers his lower trunk was given new events +to record. The year 1540 was a particularly memorable one for him. +This year brought the first horses and bearded men into the drama +which was played around him. This year, for the first time, he felt +the edge of steel and the tortures of fire. The old chronicles say +that the Spanish explorers found the cliff-houses in the year 1540. +I believe that during this year a Spanish exploring party may have +camped beneath Old Pine and built a fire against his instep, and that +some of the + +<!-- Page 44 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> +explorers hacked him with an axe. The old pine had +distinct records of axe and fire markings during the year 1540. It was +not common for the Indians of the West to burn or mutilate trees, and +as it was common for the Spaniards to do so, and as these hackings in +the tree seemed to have been made with some edged tool sharper than +any possessed by the Indians, it at least seems probable that they +were done by the Spaniards. At any rate, from the year 1540 until the +day of his death, Old Pine carried these scars on his instep.</p> + +<p>As the average yearly growth of the old pine was about the same as in +trees similarly situated at the present time, I suppose that climatic +conditions in his early days must have been similar to the climatic +conditions of to-day. His records indicate periods of even tenor of +climate, a year of extremely poor conditions, occasionally a year +crowned with a bountiful wood harvest. From 1540 to 1762 I found +little of special interest. In 1762, however, the season was not +regular. After the ring was well started, something, perhaps a cold +wave, for a time checked + +<!-- Page 45 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span> +its growth, and as a result the wood for +that one year resembled two years' growth, but yet the difference +between this double or false ring and a regular one was easily +detected. Old Pine's "hard times" experience seems to have been during +the years 1804 and 1805. I think it probable that these were years of +drought. During 1804 the layer of wood was the thinnest in his life, +and for 1805 the only wood I could find was a layer which only partly +covered the trunk of the tree, and this was exceedingly thin.</p> + +<p>From time to time in the old pine's record, I came across what seemed +to be indications of an earthquake shock; but late in 1811 or early in +1812, I think there is no doubt that he experienced a violent shock, +for he made extensive records of it. This earthquake occurred after +the sap had ceased to flow in 1811, and before it began to flow in the +spring of 1812. In places the wood was checked and shattered. At one +point, some distance from the ground, there was a bad horizontal +break. Two big roots were broken in two, and that quarter of the tree +which faced the cliffs had suffered from a rock bombardment. I +suppose + +<!-- Page 46 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> +the violence of the quake displaced many rocks, and some of +these, as they came bounding down the mountain-side, collided with Old +Pine. One, of about five pounds' weight, struck him so violently in +the side that it remained embedded there. After some years the wound +was healed over, but this fragment remained in the tree until I +released it.</p> + +<p>During 1859 some one made an axe-mark on the old pine that may have +been intended for a trail-blaze, and during the same year another fire +badly burned and scarred his ankle. I wonder if some prospectors came +this way in 1859 and made camp by him.</p> + +<p>Another record of man's visits to the tree was made in the summer of +1881, when I think a hunting or outing party may have camped near here +and amused themselves by shooting at a mark on Old Pine's ankle. +Several modern rifle-bullets were found embedded in the wood around or +just beneath a blaze which was made on the tree the same year in which +the bullets had entered it. As both these marks were made during the +year 1881, it is at least possible that this + +<!-- Page 47 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> +year the old pine was +used as the background for a target during a shooting contest.</p> + +<p>While I was working over the old pine, a Douglas squirrel who lived +near by used every day to stop in his busy harvesting of pine-cones to +look on and scold me. As I watched him placing his cones in a hole in +the ground under the pine-needles, I often wondered if one of his +buried cones would remain there uneaten to germinate and expand ever +green into the air, and become a noble giant to live as long and as +useful a life as Old Pine. I found myself trying to picture the scenes +in which this tree would stand when the birds came singing back from +the Southland in the springtime of the year 3000.</p> + +<p>After I had finished my work of splitting, studying, and deciphering +the fragments of the old pine, I went to the sawmill and arranged for +the men to come over that evening after I had departed and burn every +piece and vestige of the venerable old tree. I told them I should +be gone by dark. Then I went back and piled into a pyramid every +fragment of root and trunk and broken + +<!-- Page 48 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> +branch. Seating myself upon this +pyramid, I spent some time that afternoon gazing through the autumn +sunglow at the hazy Mesa Verde, while my mind rebuilt and shifted the +scenes of the long, long drama in which Old Pine had played his part, +and of which he had given us but a few fragmentary records. I lingered +there dreaming until twilight. I thought of the cycles during which he +had stood patient in his appointed place, and my imagination busied +itself with the countless experiences that had been recorded, and the +scenes and pageants he had witnessed but of which he had made no +record. I wondered if he had enjoyed the changing of seasons. I knew +that he had often boomed or hymned in the storm or in the breeze. Many +a monumental robe of snow-flowers had he worn. More than a thousand +times he had beheld the earth burst into bloom amid the happy songs of +mating birds; hundreds of times in summer he had worn countless +crystal rain-jewels in the sunlight of the breaking storm, while the +brilliant rainbow came and vanished on the near-by mountain-side. Ten +thousand times he + +<!-- Page 49 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> +had stood silent in the lonely light of the white +and mystic moon.</p> + +<p>Twilight was fading into darkness when I arose and started on a +night-journey for the Mesa Verde, where I intended next morning to +greet an old gnarled cedar which grew on its summit. When I arrived at +the top of the Mesa, I looked back and saw a pyramid of golden flame +standing out in the darkness.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">The Beaver and his Works</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 53 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> +<a name="The_Beaver_and_his_Works" id="The_Beaver_and_his_Works"></a> +</div> + +<h2>The Beaver and his Works</h2> + +<p>I have never been able to decide which I love best, birds or trees, +but as these are really comrades it does not matter, for they can take +first place together. But when it comes to second place in my +affection for wild things, this, I am sure, is filled by the beaver. +The beaver has so many interesting ways, and is altogether so useful, +so thrifty, so busy, so skillful, and so picturesque, that I believe +his life and his deeds deserve a larger place in literature and a +better place in our hearts. His engineering works are of great value +to man. They not only help to distribute the waters and beneficially +control the flow of the streams, but they also catch and save from +loss enormous quantities of the earth's best plant-food. In helping to +do these two things,—governing the rivers and fixing the soil,—he +plays an important part, and if he and the forest had their way with +the water-supply, floods would be prevented, streams would never run +dry, and a comparatively + +<!-- Page 54 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> +even flow of water would be maintained in +the rivers every day of the year.</p> + +<p>A number of beaver establishing a colony made one of the most +interesting exhibitions of constructive work that I have ever watched. +The work went on for several weeks, and I spent hours and days in +observing operations. My hiding-place on a granite crag allowed me a +good view of the work,—the cutting and transportation of the little +logs, the dam-building, and the house-raising. I was close to the +trees that were felled. Occasionally, during the construction work of +this colony, I saw several beaver at one time cutting trees near one +another. Upon one occasion, one was squatted on a fallen tree, another +on the limb of a live one, and a third upon a boulder, each busy +cutting down his tree. In every case, the tail was used for a +combination stool and brace. While cutting, the beaver sat upright and +clasped the willow with fore paws or put his hands against the tree, +usually tilting his head to one side. The average diameter of the +trees cut was about four inches, and a tree of this size was cut down +quickly and without a pause.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 55 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> +</div> + +<p>When the tree was almost cut off, the cutter usually thumped with his +tail, at which signal all other cutters near by scampered away. But +this warning signal was not always given, and in one instance an +unwarned cutter had a narrow escape from a tree falling perilously +close to him.</p> + +<p>Before cutting a tree, a beaver usually paused and appeared to look at +its surroundings as if choosing a place to squat or sit while cutting +it down; but so far as I could tell, he gave no thought as to the +direction in which the tree was going to fall. This is true of every +beaver which I have seen begin cutting, and I have seen scores. But +beavers have individuality, and occasionally I noticed one with marked +skill or decision. It may be, therefore, that some beaver try to fell +trees on a particular place. In fact, I remember having seen in two +localities stumps which suggested that the beaver who cut down the +trees had planned just how they were to fall. In the first locality, +I could judge only from the record left by the stumps; but the quarter +on which the main notch had been made, together with the fact that the +notch had in two instances been made + +<!-- Page 56 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> +on a quarter of the tree where +it was inconvenient for the cutter to work, seemed to indicate a plan +to fell the tree in a particular direction. In the other locality, +I knew the attitude of the trees before they were cut, and in this +instance the evidence was so complete and conclusive that I must +believe the beaver that cut down these trees endeavored to get them to +fall in a definite direction. In each of these cases, however, judging +chiefly from the teeth-marks, I think the cuttings were done by the +same beaver. Many observations induce me to believe, however, that the +majority of beaver do not plan how the trees are to fall.</p> + +<p>Once a large tree is on the ground, the limbs are trimmed off and the +trunk is cut into sections sufficiently small to be dragged, rolled, +or pushed to the water, where transportation is easy.</p> + +<p>The young beaver that I have seen cutting trees have worked in +leisurely manner, in contrast with the work of the old ones. After +giving a few bites, they usually stop to eat a piece of the bark, or +to stare listlessly around for a time. As workers, young beaver appear +at their best and + +<!-- Page 57 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> +liveliest when taking a limb from the hillside to +the house in the pond. A young beaver will catch a limb by one end in +his teeth, and, throwing it over his shoulder in the attitude of a +puppy racing with a rope or a rag, make off to the pond. Once in the +water, he throws up his head and swims to the house or the dam with +the limb held trailing out over his back.</p> + +<p>The typical beaver-house seen in the Rockies at the present time +stands in the upper edge of the pond which the beaver-dam has made, +near where the brook enters it. Its foundation is about eight feet +across, and it stands from five to ten feet in height, a rude cone in +form. Most houses are made of sticks and mud, and are apparently put +up with little thought for the living-room, which is later dug or +gnawed from the interior. The entrance to the house is below +water-level, and commonly on the bottom of the lake. Late each autumn, +the house is plastered on the outside with mud, and I am inclined to +believe that this plaster is not so much to increase the warmth of +the house as to give it, when the mud is frozen, a strong protective +armor, an armor which + +<!-- Page 58 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> +will prevent the winter enemies of the beaver +from breaking into the house.</p> + +<p>Each autumn beaver pile up near by the house, a large brush-heap of +green trunks and limbs, mostly of aspen, willow, cottonwood, or alder. +This is their granary, and during the winter they feed upon the green +bark, supplementing this with the roots of water-plants, which they +drag from the bottom of the pond.</p> + +<p>Along in May five baby beaver appear, and a little later these explore +the pond and race, wrestle, and splash water in it as merrily as boys. +Occasionally they sun themselves on a fallen log, or play together +there, trying to push one another off into the water. Often they +play in the canals that lead between ponds or from them, or on the +"slides." Toward the close of summer, they have their lessons in +cutting and dam-building.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="A_BEAVER-HOUSE" id="A_BEAVER-HOUSE"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p058_beaver.jpg" width="600" height="360" alt="A BEAVER-HOUSE: +Supply of winter food piled on the right" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A BEAVER-HOUSE<br /> +Supply of winter food piled on the right</span> +</div> + +<p>A beaver appears awkward as he works on land. In use of arms and hands +he reminds one of a monkey, while his clumsy and usually slow-moving +body will often suggest the hippopotamus. By using head, hands, teeth, +tail, and webbed + +<!-- Page 59 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> +feet the beaver accomplishes much. The tail of a +beaver is a useful and much-used appendage; it serves as a rudder, a +stool, and a ramming or signal club. The beaver <i>may</i> use his tail +for a trowel, but I have never seen him so use it. His four front teeth +are excellent edge-tools for his logging and woodwork; his webbed feet +are most useful in his deep-waterway transportation, and his hands in +house-building and especially in dam-building. It is in dam-building +that the beaver shows his greatest skill and his best headwork; for I +confess to the belief that a beaver reasons. I have so often seen him +change his plans so wisely and meet emergencies so promptly and well +that I can think of him only as a reasoner.</p> + +<p>I have often wondered if beaver make a preliminary survey of a place +before beginning to build a dam. I have seen them prowling +suggestively along brooks just prior to beaver-dam building operations +there, and circumstantial evidence would credit them with making +preliminary surveys. But of this there is no proof. I have noticed a +few things that seem to have been considered + +<!-- Page 60 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> +by beaver before +beginning dam-building,—the supply of food and of dam-building +material, for instance, and the location of the dam so as to require +the minimum amount of material and insure the creation of the largest +reservoir. In making the dam, the beaver usually takes advantage of +boulders, willow-clumps, and surface irregularities. But he often +makes errors of judgment. I have seen him abandon dams both before and +after completion. The apparent reasons were that the dam either had +failed or would fail to flood the area which he needed or desired +flooded. His endeavors are not always successful. About twenty years +ago, near Helena, Montana, a number of beaver made an audacious +attempt to dam the Missouri River. After long and persistent effort, +however, they gave it up. The beaver may be credited with errors, +failures, and successes. He has forethought. If a colony of beaver be +turned loose upon a three-mile tree-lined brook in the wilds and left +undisturbed for a season, or until they have had time to select a site +and locate themselves to best advantage, it is probable that the +location chosen will + +<!-- Page 61 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> +indicate that they have examined the entire +brook and then selected the best place.</p> + +<p>As soon as the beaver's brush dam is completed, it begins to +accumulate trash and mud. In a little while, usually, it is covered +with a mass of soil, shrubs of willow begin to grow upon it, and after +a few years it is a strong, earthy, willow-covered dam. The dams vary +in length from a few feet to several hundred feet. I measured one on +the South Platte River that was eleven hundred feet long.</p> + +<p>The influence of a beaver-dam is astounding. As soon as completed, it +becomes a highway for the folk of the wild. It is used day and night. +Mice and porcupines, bears and rabbits, lions and wolves, make a +bridge of it. From it, in the evening, the graceful deer cast their +reflections in the quiet pond. Over it dash pursuer and pursued; and +on it take place battles and courtships. It is often torn by hoof and +claw of animals locked in death-struggles, and often, very often, it +is stained with blood. Many a drama, picturesque, fierce, and wild, is +staged upon a beaver-dam.</p> + +<p>An interesting and valuable book could be written + +<!-- Page 62 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> +concerning the +earth as modified and benefited by beaver action, and I have long +thought that the beaver deserved at least a chapter in Marsh's +masterly book, "The Earth as modified by Human Action." To "work like +a beaver" is an almost universal expression for energetic persistence, +but who realizes that the beaver has accomplished anything? Almost +unread of and unknown are his monumental works.</p> + +<p>The instant a beaver-dam is completed, it has a decided influence on +the flow of the water, and especially on the quantity of sediment +which the passing water carries. The sediment, instead of going down +to fill the channel below, or to clog the river's mouth, fill the +harbor, and do damage a thousand miles away, is accumulated in the +pond behind the dam, and a level deposit is formed over the entire +area of the lake. By and by this deposit is so great that the lake is +filled with sediment, but before this happens, both lake and dam check +and delay so much flood-water that floods are diminished in volume, +and the water thus delayed is in part added to the flow of the +streams + +<!-- Page 63 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> +at the time of low water, the result being a more even +stream-flow at all times.</p> + +<p>The regulation of stream-flow is important. There are only a few rainy +days each year, and all the water that flows down the rivers falls +on these few rainy days. The instant the water reaches the earth, it +is hurried away toward the sea, and unless some agency delays the +run-off, the rivers would naturally contain water only on the rainy +days and a little while after. The fact that some rivers contain water +at all times is but evidence that something has held in check a +portion of the water which fell during these rainy days.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="A_BEAVER-DAM_IN_WINTER" id="A_BEAVER-DAM_IN_WINTER"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p064_dam.jpg" width="600" height="400" alt="A BEAVER-DAM IN WINTER" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A BEAVER-DAM IN WINTER</span> +</div> + +<p>Among the agencies which best perform this service of keeping the +streams ever-flowing, are the forests and the works of the beaver. +Rainfall accumulates in the brooks. The brooks conduct the water to +the rivers. If across a river there be a beaver-dam, the pond formed +by it will be a reservoir which will catch and retain some of the +water coming into it during rainy days, and will thus delay the +passage of all water which flows through it. Beaver-reservoirs are +leaky ones, and if + +<!-- Page 64 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> +they are stored full during rainy days, the +leaking helps to maintain the stream-flow in dry weather. A beaver-dam +thus tends to distribute to the streams below it a moderate quantity +of water each day. In other words, it spreads out or distributes the +water of the few rainy days through all the days of the year. A river +which flows steadily throughout the year is of inestimable value to +mankind. If floods sweep a river, they do damage. If low water comes, +the wheels of steamers and of manufactories cease to move, and damage +or death may result. In maintaining a medium between the extremes of +high and low water, the beaver's work is of profound importance. In +helping beneficially to control a river, the beaver would render +enormous service if allowed to construct his works at its source. +During times of heavy rainfall, the water-flow carries with it, +especially in unforested sections, great quantities of soil and +sediment. Beaver-dams catch much of the material eroded from the +hillsides above, and also prevent much erosion along the streams which +they govern. They thus catch and deposit in place much valuable soil, +the cream of + +<!-- Page 65 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> +the earth, that otherwise would be washed away and +lost,—washed away into the rivers and harbors, impeding navigation +and increasing river and harbor bills.</p> + +<p>There is an old Indian legend which says that after the Creator +separated the land from the water he employed gigantic beavers to +smooth it down and prepare it for the abode of man. This is +appreciative and suggestive. Beaver-dams have had much to do with the +shaping and creating of a great deal of the richest agricultural land +in America. To-day there are many peaceful and productive valleys the +soil of which has been accumulated and fixed in place by ages of +engineering activities on the part of the beaver before the white man +came. On both mountain and plain you may still see much of this good +work accomplished by them. In the mountains, deep and almost useless +gulches have been filled by beaver-dams with sediment, and in course +of time changed to meadows. So far as I know, the upper course of +every river in the Rockies is through a number of beaver-meadows, +some of them acres in extent.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 66 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> +</div> + +<p>On the upper course of Grand River in Colorado, I once made an +extensive examination of some old beaver-works. Series of beaver-dams +had been extended along this stream for several miles, as many as +twenty dams to the mile. Each succeeding dam had backed water to the +one above it. These had accumulated soil and formed a series of +terraces, which, with the moderate slope of the valley, had in time +formed an extensive and comparatively level meadow for a great +distance along the river. The beaver settlement on this river was +long ago almost entirely destroyed, and the year before my arrival +a cloudburst had fallen upon the mountain-slope above, and the +down-rushing flood had, in places, eroded deeply into the deposits +formed by the beaver-works. At one place the water had cut down +twenty-two feet, and had brought to light the fact that the deposit +had been formed by a series of dams one above the other, a new dam +having been built or the old one increased in height when the deposit +of sediment had filled, or nearly filled, the pond. This is only one +instance. There are thousands of similar places in the Rockies where + +<!-- Page 67 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> +beaver-dams have accumulated deposits of greater or less extent than +those on the Grand River.</p> + +<p>Only a few beaver remain, and though much of their work will endure +to serve mankind, in many places their old work is gone or is going +to ruin for the want of attention. We are paying dearly for the +thoughtless and almost complete destruction of this animal. A live +beaver is far more valuable to us than a dead one. Soil is eroding +away, river-channels are filling, and most of the streams in the +United States fluctuate between flood and low water. A beaver colony +at the source of every stream would moderate these extremes and add to +the picturesqueness and beauty of many scenes that are now growing +ugly with erosion. We need to coöperate with the beaver. He would +assist the work of reclamation, and be of great service in maintaining +the deep-waterways. I trust he will be assisted in colonizing our +National Forests, and allowed to cut timber there without a permit.</p> + +<p>The beaver is the Abou-ben-Adhem of the wild. May his tribe +increase.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">The Wilds without Firearms</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 71 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> +<a name="The_Wilds_without_Firearms" id="The_Wilds_without_Firearms"></a> +</div> + +<h2>The Wilds without Firearms</h2> + +<p>Had I encountered the two gray wolves during my first unarmed +camping-trip into the wilds, the experience would hardly have +suggested to me that going without firearms is the best way to enjoy +wild nature. But I had made many unarmed excursions beyond the trail +before I had that adventure, and the habit of going without a gun was +so firmly fixed and so satisfactory that even a perilous wolf +encounter did not arouse any desire for firearms. The habit continued, +and to-day the only way I can enjoy the wilds is to leave guns behind.</p> + +<p>On that autumn afternoon I was walking along slowly, reflectively, in +a deep forest. Not a breath of air moved, and even the aspen's golden +leaves stood still in the sunlight. All was calm and peaceful around +and within me, when I came to a little sunny frost-tanned grass-plot +surrounded by + +<!-- Page 72 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> +tall, crowding pines. I felt drawn to its warmth and +repose and stepped joyfully into it. Suddenly two gray wolves sprang +from almost beneath my feet and faced me defiantly. At a few feet +distance they made an impressive show of ferocity, standing ready +apparently to hurl themselves upon me.</p> + +<p>Now the gray wolf is a powerful, savage beast, and directing his +strong jaws, tireless muscles, keen scent, and all-seeing eyes are +exceedingly nimble wits. He is well equipped to make the severe +struggle for existence which his present environment compels. In many +Western localities, despite the high price offered for his scalp, he +has managed not only to live, but to increase and multiply. I had seen +gray wolves pull down big game. On one occasion I had seen a vigorous +long-horned steer fall after a desperate struggle with two of these +fearfully fanged animals. Many times I had come across scattered bones +which told of their triumph; and altogether I was so impressed with +their deadliness that a glimpse of one of them usually gave me over to +a temporary dread.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 73 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> +</div> + +<p>The two wolves facing me seemed to have been asleep in the sun when +I disturbed them. I realized the danger and was alarmed, of course, but +my faculties were under control, were stimulated, indeed, to unusual +alertness, and I kept a bold front and faced them without flinching. +Their expression was one of mingled surprise and anger, together with +the apparent determination to sell their lives as dearly as possible. +I gave them all the attention which their appearance and their +reputation demanded. Not once did I take my eyes off them. I held them +at bay with my eyes. I still have a vivid picture of terribly gleaming +teeth, bristling backs, and bulging muscles in savage readiness.</p> + +<p>They made no move to attack. I was afraid to attack and I dared not +run away. I remembered that some trees I could almost reach behind me +had limbs that stretched out toward me, yet I felt that to wheel, +spring for a limb, and swing up beyond their reach could not be done +quickly enough to escape those fierce jaws.</p> + +<p>Both sides were of the same mind, ready to fight, but not at all eager +to do so. Under these conditions + +<!-- Page 74 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> +our nearness was embarrassing, and +we faced each other for what seemed, to me at least, a long time. My +mind working like lightning, I thought of several possible ways of +escaping, I considered each at length, found it faulty, and dismissed +it. Meanwhile, not a sound had been made. I had not moved, but +something had to be done. Slowly I worked the small folding axe from +its sheath, and with the slowest of movements placed it in my right +coat-pocket with the handle up, ready for instant use. I did this with +studied deliberation, lest a sudden movement should release the +springs that held the wolves back. I kept on staring. Statues, almost, +we must have appeared to the "camp-bird" whose call from a near-by +limb told me we were observed, and whose nearness gave me courage. +Then, looking the nearer of the two wolves squarely in the eye, I said +to him, "Well, why don't you move?" as though we were playing checkers +instead of the game of life. He made no reply, but the spell was +broken. I believe that both sides had been bluffing. In attempting to +use my kodak while continuing the bluff, I brought matters + +<!-- Page 75 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> +to a focus. "What a picture you fellows will make," I said aloud, as my +right hand slowly worked the kodak out of the case which hung under my +left arm. Still keeping up a steady fire of looks, I brought the kodak +in front of me ready to focus, and then touched the spring that +released the folding front. When the kodak mysteriously, suddenly +opened before the wolves, they fled for their lives. In an instant +they had cleared the grassy space and vanished into the woods. I did +not get their picture.</p> + +<p>With a gun, the wolf encounter could not have ended more happily. At +any rate, I have not for a moment cared for a gun since I returned +enthusiastic from my first delightful trip into the wilds without one. +Out in the wilds with nature is one of the safest and most sanitary of +places. Bears are not seeking to devour, and the death-list from +lions, wolves, snakes, and all other bugbears combined does not equal +the death-list from fire, automobiles, street-cars, or banquets. Being +afraid of nature or a rainstorm is like being afraid of the dark.</p> + +<p>The time of that first excursion was spent among + +<!-- Page 76 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> +scenes that I had +visited before, but the discoveries I made and the deeper feelings +it stirred within me, led me to think it more worth while than any +previous trip among the same delightful scenes. The first day, +especially, was excitingly crowded with new sights and sounds and +fancies. I fear that during the earlier trips the rifle had obscured +most of the scenes in which it could not figure, and as a result I +missed fairyland and most of the sunsets.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 420px;"><a name="LAKE_ODESSA" id="LAKE_ODESSA"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p076_odessa.jpg" width="420" height="600" alt="LAKE ODESSA" title="" /> +<span class="caption">LAKE ODESSA</span> +</div> + +<p>When I arrived at the alpine lake by which I was to camp, evening's +long rays and shadows were romantically robing the picturesque wild +border of the lake. The crags, the temples, the flower-edged +snowdrifts, and the grass-plots of this wild garden seemed +half-unreal, as over them the long lights and torn shadows grouped +and changed, lingered and vanished, in the last moments of the sun. +The deep purple of evening was over all, and the ruined crag with +the broken pine on the ridge-top was black against the evening's +golden glow, when I hastened to make camp by a pine temple while +the beautiful world of sunset's hour slowly faded into the night.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 77 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> +</div> + +<p>The camp-fire was a glory-burst in the darkness, and the small +many-spired evergreen temple before me shone an illuminated cathedral +in the night. All that evening I believed in fairies, and by watching +the changing camp-fire kept my fancies frolicking in realms of mystery +where all the world was young. I lay down without a gun, and while the +fire changed and faded to black and gray the coyotes began to howl. +But their voices did not seem as lonely or menacing as when I had had +a rifle by my side. As I lay listening to them, I thought I detected +merriment in their tones, and in a little while their shouts rang as +merrily as though they were boys at play. Never before had I realized +that coyotes too had enjoyments, and I listened to their shouts with +pleasure. At last the illumination faded from the cathedral grove and +its templed top stood in charcoal against the clear heavens as I fell +asleep beneath the peaceful stars.</p> + +<p>The next morning I loitered here and there, getting acquainted with +the lake-shore, for without a gun all objects, or my eyes, were so +changed that I had only a dim recollection of having seen the + +<!-- Page 78 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> +place before. From time to time, as I walked about, I stopped to try to win +the confidence of the small folk in fur and feathers. I found some +that trusted me, and at noon a chipmunk, a camp-bird, a chickadee, and +myself were several times busy with the same bit of luncheon at once.</p> + +<p>Some years ago mountain sheep often came in flocks to lick the salty +soil in a ruined crater on Specimen Mountain. One day I climbed up and +hid myself in the crags to watch them. More than a hundred of them +came. After licking for a time, many lay down. Some of the rams posed +themselves on the rocks in heroic attitudes and looked serenely and +watchfully around. Young lambs ran about, and a few occasionally raced +up and down smooth, rocky steeps, seemingly without the slightest +regard for the laws of falling bodies. I was close to the flock, but +luckily they did not suspect my presence. After enjoying their fine +wild play for more than two hours, I slipped away and left them in +their home among the crags.</p> + +<p>One spring day I paused in a whirl of mist and + +<!-- Page 79 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> +wet snow to look for +the trail. I could see only a few yards ahead. As I peered ahead, a +bear emerged from the gloom, heading straight for me. Behind her were +two cubs. I caught her impatient expression when she beheld me. She +stopped, and then, with a growl of anger, she wheeled and boxed cubs +right and left like an angry mother. The bears disappeared in the +direction from which they had come, the cubs urged on with spanks +from behind as all vanished in the falling snow.</p> + +<p>The gray Douglas squirrel is one of the most active, audacious, and +outspoken of animals. He enjoys seclusion and claims to be monarch of +all he surveys, and no trespasser is too big to escape a scolding from +him. Many times he has given me a terrible tongue-lashing with a +desperate accompaniment of fierce facial expressions, bristling +whiskers, and emphatic gestures. I love this brave fellow creature; +but if he were only a few inches bigger, I should never risk my life +in his woods without a gun.</p> + +<p>This is a beautiful world, and all who go out under the open sky will +feel the gentle, kindly influence + +<!-- Page 80 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span> +of Nature and hear her good +tidings. The forests of the earth are the flags of Nature. They appeal +to all and awaken inspiring universal feelings. Enter the forest and +the boundaries of nations are forgotten. It may be that some time an +immortal pine will be the flag of a united and peaceful world.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">A Watcher on the Heights</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 83 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span> +<a name="A_Watcher_on_the_Heights" id="A_Watcher_on_the_Heights"></a> +</div> + +<h2>A Watcher on the Heights</h2> + +<p>While on the sky-line as State Snow Observer, I had one adventure with +the elements that called for the longest special report that I have +ever written. Perhaps I cannot do better than quote this report +transmitted to Professor Carpenter, at Denver, on May 26, 1904.</p> + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 1.5em">NOTES ON THE POUDRE FLOOD</p> + +<p>The day before the Poudre flood, I traveled for eight hours +northwesterly along the top of the Continental Divide, all the time +being above timber-line and from eleven thousand to twelve thousand +feet above sea-level.</p> + +<p>The morning was cloudless and hot. The western sky was marvelously +clear. Eastward, a thin, dark haze overspread everything below ten +thousand feet. By 9.30 <span class="smcap">a. m.</span> this haze had ascended higher than where +I was. At nine o'clock the snow on which I walked, though it had been +frozen + +<!-- Page 84 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span> +hard during the night, was soggy and wet.</p> + +<p>About 9.30 a calm that had prevailed all the morning gave way before +an easy intermittent warm breeze from the southeast.</p> + +<p>At 10.10 the first cloud appeared in the north, just above Hague's +Peak. It was a heavy cumulus cloud, but I do not know from what +direction it came. It rose high in the air, drifted slowly toward the +west, and then seemed to dissolve. At any rate, it vanished. About +10.30 several heavy clouds rose from behind Long's Peak, moving toward +the northwest, rising higher into the sky as they advanced.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="ON_THE_HEIGHTS" id="ON_THE_HEIGHTS"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p084_heights.jpg" width="600" height="375" alt="ON THE HEIGHTS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ON THE HEIGHTS</span> +</div> + +<p>The wind, at first in fitful dashes from the southeast, began to come +more steadily and swiftly after eleven o'clock, and was so warm that +the snow softened to a sloppy state. The air carried a tinge of haze, +and conditions were oppressive. It was labor to breathe. Never, except +one deadly hot July day in New York City, have I felt so overcome with +heat and choking air. Perspiration simply streamed from me. These +oppressive conditions continued for two hours,—until + +<!-- Page 85 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> +about one o'clock. While they lasted, my eyes pained, ached, and twitched. There +was no glare, but only by keeping my eyes closed could I stand the +half-burning pain. Finally I came to some crags and lay down for a +time in the shade. I was up eleven thousand five hundred feet and the +time was 12.20. As I lay on the snow gazing upward, I became aware +that there were several flotillas of clouds of from seven to twenty +each, and these were moving toward every point of the compass. Each +seemed on a different stratum of air, and each moved through space a +considerable distance above or below the others. The clouds moving +eastward were the highest. Most of the lower clouds were those moving +westward. The haze and sunlight gave color to every cloud, and this +color varied from smoky red to orange.</p> + +<p>At two o'clock the haze came in from the east almost as dense as a +fog-bank, crossed the ridge before me, and spread out as dark and +foreboding as the smoke of Vesuvius. Behind me the haze rolled upward +when it struck the ridge, and I had clear glimpses whenever I looked +to the southwest. + +<!-- Page 86 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span> +This heavy, muddy haze prevailed for a little more +than half an hour, and as it cleared, the clouds began to disappear, +but a gauzy haze still continued in the air. The feeling in the air +was not agreeable, and for the first time in my life I felt alarmed by +the shifting, rioting clouds and the weird haze.</p> + +<p>I arrived at timber-line south of Poudre Lakes about 4.30 <span class="smcap">p. m.</span>, and +for more than half an hour the sky, except in the east over the +foothills, was clear, and the sunlight struck a glare from the snow. +With the cleared air there came to me an easier feeling. The +oppressiveness ceased. I descended a short distance into the woods and +relaxed on a fallen tree that lay above the snow.</p> + +<p>I had been there but a little while, when—snap! buzz! buzz! buzz! +ziz! ziz! and electricity began to pull my hair and hum around my +ears. The electricity passed off shortly, but in a little while it +caught me again by the hair for a brief time, and this time my right +arm momentarily cramped and my heart seemed to give several lurches. I +arose and tramped on and downward, but every little while I was in for +shocking treatment. + +<!-- Page 87 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> +The electrical waves came from the southwest and +moved northeast. They were separated by periods of from one to several +minutes in length, and were about two seconds in passing. During +their presence they made it lively for me, with hair-pulling, +heart-palpitation, and muscular cramps. I tried moving speedily with +the wave, also standing still and lying down, hoping that the wave +would pass me by; but in each and every case it gave me the same +stirring treatment. Once I stood erect and rigid as the wave came +on, but it intensified suddenly the rigidity of every muscle to a +seemingly rupturing extent, and I did not try that plan again. The +effect of each wave on me seemed to be slightly weakened whenever +I lay down and fully relaxed my muscles.</p> + +<p>I was on a northerly slope, in spruce timber, tramping over five feet +of snow. During these electrical waves, the points of dry twigs were +tipped with a smoky blue flame, and sometimes bands of this bluish +flame encircled green trees just below their lower limbs. I looked at +the compass a few times, and though the needle occasionally + +<!-- Page 88 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> +swayed a +little, it was not affected in any marked manner.</p> + +<p>The effect of the electrical waves on me became less as I descended, +but whether from my getting below the electrical stratum, or from a +cessation of the current, I cannot say.</p> + +<p>But I did not descend much below eleven thousand feet, and at the +lowest point I crossed the South Poudre, at the outlet of Poudre +Lakes. In crossing I broke through the ice and received a wetting, +with the exception of my right side above the hip. Once across, I +walked about two hundred yards through an opening, then again entered +the woods, on the southeasterly slope of Specimen Mountain. I had +climbed only a short distance up this slope when another electrical +wave struck me. The effect of this was similar to that of the +preceding ones. There was, however, a marked difference in the +intensity with which the electricity affected the wet and the dry +portions of my body. The effect on my right side and shoulder, which +had escaped wetting when I broke through the ice, was noticeably +stronger than on the rest of my body. Climbing soon dried + +<!-- Page 89 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> +my clothes +sufficiently to make this difference no longer noticeable. The waves +became more frequent than at first, but not so strong. I made a clumsy +climb of about five hundred feet, my muscles being "muscle-bound" all +the time with rigidity from electricity. But this climb brought me +almost to timber-line on Specimen Mountain, and also under the shadow +of the south peak of it. At this place the electrical effects almost +ceased. Nor did I again seriously feel the current until I found +myself out in the sunlight which came between the two peaks of +Specimen. While I continued in the sunlight I felt the electrical +wave, but, strange to say, when I again entered the shadow I almost +wholly escaped it.</p> + +<p>When I started on the last slope toward the top of North Specimen, I +came out into the sunlight again, and I also passed into an electrical +sea. The slope was free from snow, and as the electrical waves swept +in close succession, about thirty seconds apart, they snapped, hummed, +and buzzed in such a manner that their advance and retreat could be +plainly heard. In passing by me, the noise was more of a crackling and +humming + +<!-- Page 90 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span> +nature, while a million faint sparks flashed from the stones +(porphyry and rhyolite) as the wave passed over. But the effect on me +became constant. Every muscle was almost immovable. I could climb only +a few steps without weakening to the stopping-point. I breathed only +by gasps, and my heart became violent and feeble by turns. I felt as +if cinched in a steel corset. After I had spent ten long minutes and +was only half-way up a slope, the entire length of which I had more +than once climbed in a few minutes and in fine shape, I turned to +retreat, but as there was no cessation of the electrical colic, I +faced about and started up again. I reached the top a few minutes +before 6.30 <span class="smcap">p. m.</span>, and shortly afterward the sun disappeared behind +clouds and peaks.</p> + +<p>I regret that I failed to notice whether the electrical effects +ceased with the setting of the sun, but it was not long after the +disappearance of the sun before I was at ease, enjoying the +magnificent mountain-range of clouds that had formed above the +foothills and stood up glorious in the sunlight.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 91 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> +</div> + +<p>Shortly before five o'clock the clouds had begun to pile up in the +east, and their gigantic forms, flowing outlines, and glorious +lighting were the only things that caused the electrical effects to be +forgotten even momentarily. The clouds formed into a long, solid, +rounded range that rose to great height and was miles in length. The +southern end of this range was in the haze, and I could not make out +its outline further south than a point about opposite Loveland, +Colorado, nor could I see the northern end beyond a few miles north of +Cheyenne, where it was cut off by a dozen strata of low clouds that +moved steadily at a right angle to the east. Sixty miles of length was +visible. Its height, like that of the real mountains which it +paralleled, diminished toward the north. The place of greatest +altitude was about twenty-five miles distant from me. From my +location, the clouds presented a long and smoothly terraced slope, the +top of which was at least five thousand feet and may have been fifteen +thousand feet above me. The clouds seemed compact; at times they +surged upwards; then they would settle with a long, undulating swell, + +<!-- Page 92 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> +as if some unseen power were trying to force them further up the +mountains, while they were afraid to try it. Finally a series of low, +conical peaks rose on the summit of the cloud-range, and the peaks and +the upper cloud-slope resembled the upper portion of a circus-tent. +There were no rough places or angles.</p> + +<p>When darkness came on, the surface of this cloud-range was at times +splendidly illuminated by electricity beneath; and, when the darkness +deepened, the electrical play beneath often caused the surface to +shine momentarily like incandescent glass, and occasionally sinuous +rivers of gold ran over the slopes. Several times I thought that the +course of these golden rivers of electrical fire was from the bottom +upward, but so brilliant and dazzling were they that I could not +positively decide on the direction of their movement. Never have I +seen such enormous cloud-forms or such brilliant electrical effects.</p> + +<p>The summit of Specimen Mountain, from which I watched the clouds and +electrical flashes, is about twelve thousand five hundred feet above +sea-level. A calm prevailed while I remained on top. + +<!-- Page 93 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> +It was about +8.30 <span class="smcap">p. m.</span> when I left the summit, on snowshoes, and swept down the +steep northern slope into the woods. This hurry caused no unusual +heart or muscle action.</p> + +<p>The next morning was cloudy as low down as ten thousand five hundred +feet, and, for all I know, lower still. The night had been warm, and +the morning had the oppressive feeling that dominated the morning +before. The clouds broke up before nine o'clock, and the air, with +haze in it, seemed yellow. About 10.30, haze and, soon after, clouds +came in from the southeast (at this time I was high up on the +southerly slope of Mt. Richthofen), and by eleven o'clock the sky was +cloudy. Up to this time the air, when my snow-glasses were off, burned +and twitched my eyes in the same manner as on the previous morning.</p> + +<p>Early in the afternoon I left Grand Ditch Camp and started down to +Chambers Lake. I had not gone far when drops of rain began to fall +from time to time, and shortly after this my muscles began to twitch +occasionally under electrical ticklings. At times slight muscular +rigidity was noticeable. Just before two o'clock the clouds began + +<!-- Page 94 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span> +to burst through between the trees. I was at an altitude of about eleven +thousand feet and a short distance from the head of Trap Creek. Rain, +hail, and snow fell in turn, and the lightning began frequently to +strike the rocks. With the beginning of the lightning my muscles +ceased to be troubled with either twitching or rigidity. For the two +hours between 2 and 4 <span class="smcap">p. m.</span> the crash and roll of thunder was +incessant. I counted twenty-three times that the lightning struck the +rocks, but I did not see it strike a tree. The clouds were low, and +the wind came from the east and the northeast, then from the west.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="A_STORM_ON_THE_ROCKIES" id="A_STORM_ON_THE_ROCKIES"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p094_storm.jpg" width="600" height="365" alt="A STORM ON THE ROCKIES" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A STORM ON THE ROCKIES</span> +</div> + +<p>About four o'clock, I broke through the snow, tumbled into Trap Creek, +and had to swim a little. This stream was really very swift, and ran +in a narrow gulch, but it was blocked by snow and by tree-limbs swept +down by the flood, and a pond had been formed. It was crowded with a +deep deposit of snow which rested on a shelf of ice. This covering was +shattered and uplifted by the swollen stream, and I had slipped on the +top of the gulch and tumbled in. Once in, the swift water tugged at +me to pull me under; the cakes + +<!-- Page 95 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> +of snow and ice hampered me, and my +snowshoes were entangled with brush and limbs. The combination seemed +determined to drown me. For a few seconds I put forth all my efforts +to get at my pocket-knife. This accomplished, the fastenings of my +snowshoes were cut, and unhampered by these, I escaped the waters.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Since I have felt no ill results, the effect of the entire experience +may have been beneficial. The clouds, glorious as they had been in +formation and coloring, resulted in a terrible cloudburst. Enormous +quantities of water were poured out, and this, falling upon the +treeless foothills, rushed away to do more than a million dollars' +damage in the rich and beautiful Poudre Valley.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">Climbing Long's Peak</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 99 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> +<a name="Climbing_Longs_Peak" id="Climbing_Longs_Peak"></a> +</div> + +<h2>Climbing Long's Peak</h2> + +<p>Among the best days that I have had outdoors are the two hundred and +fifty-seven that were spent as a guide on Long's Peak. One day was +required from the starting-place near my cabin for each round trip to +the summit of the peak. Something of interest occurred to enliven each +one of these climbs: a storm, an accident, the wit of some one or the +enthusiasm of all the climbers. But the climb I remember with greatest +satisfaction is the one on which I guided Harriet Peters, an +eight-year-old girl, to the top.</p> + +<p>It was a cold morning when we started for the top, but it was this day +or wait until next season, for Harriet was to start for her Southern +home in a day or two and could not wait for a more favorable morning. +Harriet had spent the two preceding summers near my cabin, and around +it had played with the chipmunks and ridden the burros, and she had +made a few climbs with me up + +<!-- Page 100 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> +through the woods. We often talked of +going to the top of Long's Peak when she should become strong enough +to do so. This time came just after her eighth birthday. As I was as +eager to have her make the climb as she was to make it, we started up +the next morning after her aunt had given permission for her to go. +She was happy when I lifted her at last into the saddle, away up on +old "Top's" back. She was so small that I still wonder how she managed +to stay on, but she did so easily.</p> + +<p>Long's Peak is not only one of the most scenic of the peaks in the +Rocky Mountains, but it is probably the most rugged. From our +starting-place it was seven miles to the top; five of these miles may +be ridden, but the last two are so steep and craggy that one must go +on foot and climb.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="LONGS_PEAK_FROM_THE_SUMMIT" id="LONGS_PEAK_FROM_THE_SUMMIT"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p100_longspeak.jpg" width="600" height="350" alt="LONG'S PEAK FROM THE SUMMIT OF MT. MEEKER" title="" /> +<span class="caption">LONG'S PEAK FROM THE SUMMIT OF MT. MEEKER</span> +</div> + +<p>After riding a little more than a mile, we came to a clear, cold brook +that is ever coming down in a great hurry over a steep mountain-side, +splashing, jumping, and falling over the boulders of one of nature's +stony stairways and forming white cascades which throw their spray +among the tall, dark pines. I had told Harriet that ouzels lived + +<!-- Page 101 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span> +by this brook; she was eager to see one, and we stopped at a promising +place by the brook to watch. In less than a minute one came flying +down the cascades, and so near to the surface of the water that he +seemed to be tumbling and sliding down with it. He alighted on a +boulder near us, made two or three pleasant curtsies, and started to +sing one of his low, sweet songs. He was doing the very thing of which +I had so often told Harriet. We watched and listened with breathless +interest. In the midst of the song he dived into the brook; in a +moment he came up with a water-bug in his bill, settled on the boulder +again, gave his nods, and resumed his song, seemingly at the point +where he left off. After a few low, sweet notes he broke off again and +plunged into the water. This time he came up quickly and alighted on +the spot he had just left, and went on with his song without any +preliminaries and as if there had been no interruption.</p> + +<p>The water-ouzel is found by the alpine lakes and brooks on the +mountains of the West. It is a modest-appearing bird, about the size +of a thrush, and wears a plain dress of slaty blue. This + +<!-- Page 102 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> +dress is +finished with a tail-piece somewhat like that of the wren, though it +is not upturned so much. The bird seems to love cascades, and often +nests by one. It also shows its fondness for water by often flying +along the brook, following every bend and break made by the stream, +keeping close to the water all the time and frequently touching it. +Over the quiet reaches it goes skimming; it plunges over the +waterfalls, alights on rocks in the rapids, goes dashing through the +spray, its every movement showing the ecstasies of eager life and joy +in the hurrying water. Our ouzel was quietly feeding on the edge of +the brook, when Harriet said good-bye as our ponies started up the +trail.</p> + +<p>Harriet had never been in school, but she could read, write, and sing. +She had good health, and a brighter, cheerier little girl I have never +seen. As we rode up the trail through the woods, the gray Douglas +squirrels were busy with the harvest. They were cutting off and +storing cones for winter food. In the treetops these squirrels seemed +to be bouncing and darting in all directions. One would cut off a +cone, then dart to the next, + +<!-- Page 103 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> +and so swiftly that cones were +constantly dropping. Frequently the cones struck limbs and bounded as +they fell, often coming to the ground to bounce and roll some distance +over the forest floor. An occasional one went rolling and bouncing +down the steep mountain-side with two or three happy chipmunks in +jolly pursuit.</p> + +<p>We watched one squirrel stow cones under trash and in holes in the +thick beds of needles. These cones were buried near a tree, in a +dead limb of which the squirrel had a hole and a home. Harriet asked +many questions concerning the cones,—why they were buried, how the +squirrel found them when they were buried in the snow, and what became +of those which were left buried. I told her that during the winter the +squirrel came down and dug through the snow to the cones and then fed +upon the nuts. I also told her that squirrels usually buried more +cones than were eaten. The uneaten cones, being left in the ground, +were in a way planted, and the nuts in them in time sprouted, and +young trees came peeping up among the fallen leaves. The squirrel's +way of observing Arbor Day makes him a useful + +<!-- Page 104 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> +forester. Harriet said +she would tell all her boy and girl friends what she knew of this +squirrel's tree-planting ways, and would ask her uncle not to shoot +the little tree-planter.</p> + +<p>As we followed the trail up through the woods, I told Harriet many +things concerning the trees, and the forces which influenced their +distribution and growth. While we were traveling westward in the +bottom of a gulch, I pointed out to her that the trees on the mountain +that rose on the right and sloped toward the south were of a different +kind from those on the mountain-side which rose on our left and sloped +toward the north. After traveling four miles and climbing up two +thousand feet above our starting-place, and, after from time to time +coming to and passing kinds of trees which did not grow lower down the +slopes, we at last came to timber-line, above which trees did not grow +at all.</p> + +<p>In North America between timber-line on the Rockies, at an altitude of +about eleven thousand feet, and sea-level on the Florida coast, there +are about six hundred and twenty kinds of trees and shrubs growing. +Each kind usually grows in the soil + +<!-- Page 105 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> +and clime that is best suited to +its requirements; in other words, most trees are growing where they +can do the best, or where they can do better than any other kind. Some +trees do the best at the moist seashore; some thrive in swamps; others +live only on the desert's edge; some live on the edge of a river; and +still others manage to endure the storms of bleak heights.</p> + +<p>At timber-line the trees have a hard time of it. All of them at this +place are dwarfed, many distorted, some crushed to the earth, +flattened out upon the ground like pressed flowers, by the snowdrifts +that have so long lain upon them. The winter winds at this place blow +almost constantly from the same quarter for days at a time, and often +attain a high velocity. The effect of these winds is strikingly shown +by the trees. None of the trees are tall, and most of them are +leaning, pushed partly over by the wind. Some are sprawled on the +ground like uncouth vines or spread out from the stump like a fan +with the onsweeping direction of the storms. Most of the standing, +unsheltered trees have limbs only on the leeward quarter, all the +other limbs having been + +<!-- Page 106 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> +blown off by the wind or cut off by the +wind-blown gravel. Most of the exposed trees are destitute of bark +on the portion of the trunk that faces these winter winds. Some of +the dead standing trees are carved into strange totem-poles by the +sand-blasts of many fierce storms. With all the trees warped or +distorted, the effect of timber-line is weird and strange.</p> + +<p>Harriet and I got off the ponies the better to examine some of the +storm-beaten trees. Harriet was attracted to a few dwarf spruces that +were standing in a drift of recently fallen snow. Although these +dwarfed little trees were more than a hundred years old, they were so +short that the little mountain-climber who stood by them was taller +than they. After stroking one of the trees with her hand, Harriet +stood for a time in silence, then out of her warm childish nature she +said, "What brave little trees to live up here where they have to +stand all the time in the snow!" Timber-line, with its strange tree +statuary and treeless snowy peaks and crags rising above it, together +with its many kinds of bird and animal life and its flower-fringed +snowdrifts, is one of nature's most expressive + +<!-- Page 107 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> +exhibits, and I wish +every one might visit it. At an altitude of about eleven thousand +seven hundred feet we came to the last tree. It was ragged, and so +small that you could have hidden it beneath a hat. It nestled up to a +boulder, and appeared so cold and pitiful that Harriet wanted to know +if it was lost. It certainly appeared as if it had been lost for a +long, long time.</p> + +<p>Among the crags Harriet and I kept sharp watch for mountain sheep, but +we did not see any. We were fortunate enough, however, to see a flock +of ptarmigan. These birds were huddled in a hole which narrowly +escaped being trampled on by Top. They walked quietly away, and we had +a good look at them. They were almost white; in winter they are pure +white, while in summer they are of a grayish brown. At all times +their dress matches the surroundings fairly well, so that they have a +protective coloring which makes it difficult for their enemies to see +them.</p> + +<p>At an altitude of twelve thousand five hundred feet the horses were +tied to boulders and left behind. From this place to the top of the +peak the + +<!-- Page 108 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> +way is too rough or precipitous for horses. For a mile +Harriet and I went forward over the boulders of an old moraine. The +last half-mile was the most difficult of all; the way was steep and +broken, and was entirely over rocks, which were covered with a few +inches of snow that had fallen during the night.</p> + +<p>We climbed slowly; all good climbers go slowly. Harriet also +faithfully followed another good mountain rule,—"Look before you +step." She did not fall, slip, or stumble while making the climb. Of +course we occasionally rested, and whenever we stopped near a flat +rock or a level place, we made use of it by lying down on our backs, +straightening out arms and legs, relaxing every muscle, and for a time +resting as loosely as possible. Just before reaching the top, we made +a long climb through the deepest snow that we had encountered. Though +the sun was warm, the air, rocks, and snow were cold. Not only was the +snow cold to the feet, but climbing through it was tiresome, and at +the first convenient place we stopped to rest. Finding a large, smooth +rock, we lay down on our backs side by side. We talked for + +<!-- Page 109 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> +a time and +watched an eagle soaring around up in the blue sky. I think Harriet +must have recalled a suggestion which I made at timber-line, for +without moving she suddenly remarked, "Mr. Mills, my feet are so cold +that I can't tell whether my toes are wiggling or not."</p> + +<p>Five hours after starting, Harriet stepped upon the top, the youngest +climber to scale Long's Peak. The top is fourteen thousand two hundred +and fifty-nine feet above the sea, is almost level, and, though rough, +is roomy enough for a baseball game. Of course if the ball went over +the edge, it would tumble a mile or so before stopping. With the top +so large, you will realize that the base measures miles across. The +upper three thousand feet of the peak is but a gigantic mass, almost +destitute of soil or vegetation. Some of the rocks are flecked and +spotted with lichens, and a few patches of moss and straggling, +beautiful alpine flowers can be found during August. There is but +little chance for snow to lodge, and for nearly three thousand feet +the peak rises a bald, broken, impressive stone tower.</p> + +<p>While Harriet and I were eating luncheon, a ground-hog + +<!-- Page 110 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> +that I had fed +on other visits came out to see if there was anything for him. Some +sparrows also lighted near; they looked hungry, so we left some bread +for them and then climbed upon the "tip-top," where our picture was +taken.</p> + +<p>From the tip-top we could see more than a hundred miles toward any +point of the compass. West of us we saw several streams that were +flowing away toward the Pacific; east of us the streams flowed to the +Atlantic. I told Harriet that the many small streams we saw all grew +larger as they neared the sea. Harriet lived at the "big" end of the +Arkansas River. She suddenly wanted to know if I could show her the +"little end of the Arkansas River."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 335px;"><a name="ON_THE_TIP-TOP" id="ON_THE_TIP-TOP"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p110_tiptop.jpg" width="335" height="600" alt="ON THE TIP-TOP OF LONG'S PEAK" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ON THE TIP-TOP OF LONG'S PEAK</span> +</div> + +<p>After an hour on top we started downward and homeward, the little +mountain-climber feeling happy and lively. But she was careful, and +only once during the day did she slip, and this slip was hardly her +fault: we were coming off an enormous smooth boulder that was wet from +the new snow that was melting, when both Harriet's feet shot from +under her and she fell, laughing, into my arms.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 111 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span> +</div> + +<p>"Hello, Top, I am glad to see you," said Harriet when we came to the +horses. While riding homeward I told Harriet that I had often climbed +the peak by moonlight. On the way down she said good-bye to the little +trees at timber-line, the squirrels, and the ouzel. When I at last +lifted Harriet off old Top at the cabin, many people came out to greet +her. To all she said, "Yes, I'm tired, but some time I want to go up +by moonlight."</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">Midget, the Return Horse</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 115 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> +<a name="Midget_the_Return_Horse" id="Midget_the_Return_Horse"></a> +</div> + +<h2>Midget, the Return Horse</h2> + +<p>In many of the Western mining-towns, the liverymen keep "return +horses,"—horses that will return to the barn when set at liberty, +whether near the barn or twenty miles away. These horses are the pick +of their kind. They have brains enough to take training readily, and +also to make plans of their own and get on despite the unexpected +hindrances that sometimes occur. When a return horse is ridden to a +neighboring town, he must know enough to find his way back, and he +must also be so well trained that he will not converse too long with +the horse he meets going in the opposite direction.</p> + +<p>The return horse is a result of the necessities of mountain sections, +especially the needs of miners. Most Western mining-towns are located +upon a flat or in a gulch. The mines are rarely near the town, but are +on the mountain-slopes above it. Out of town go a dozen roads or +trails that extend to the mines, from one to five miles away, and + +<!-- Page 116 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> +much higher than the town. A miner does not mind walking down to the +town, but he wants to ride back; or the prospector comes in and wants +to take back a few supplies. The miner hires a return horse, rides it +to the mine, and then turns the horse loose. It at once starts to +return to the barn. If a horse meets a freight wagon coming up, it +must hunt for a turnout if the road is narrow, and give the wagon the +right of way. If the horse meets some one walking up, it must avoid +being caught.</p> + +<p>The San Juan mining section of southwestern Colorado has hundreds +of these horses. Most of the mines are from one thousand to three +thousand feet above the main supply-points, Ouray, Telluride, and +Silverton. Ouray and Telluride are not far apart by trail, but they +are separated by a rugged range that rises more than three thousand +feet above them. Men often go by trail from one of these towns to the +other, and in so doing usually ride a return horse to the top of the +range, then walk down the other side.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="A_MINER_ON_A_RETURN_HORSE" id="A_MINER_ON_A_RETURN_HORSE"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p116_miner.jpg" width="600" height="405" alt="A MINER ON A RETURN HORSE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A MINER ON A RETURN HORSE</span> +</div> + +<p>"Be sure to turn Jim loose before you reach + +<!-- Page 117 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span> +the summit; he won't +come back if you ride him even a short distance on the other side," +called a Telluride liveryman to me as I rode out of his barn. It seems +that the most faithful return horse may not come back if ridden far +down the slope away from home, but may stray down it rather than climb +again to the summit to return home. The rider is warned also to +"fasten up the reins and see that the cinches are tight" when he turns +the horse loose. If the cinches are loose, the saddle may turn when +the horse rolls; or if the reins are down, the horse may graze for +hours. Either loose reins or loose cinches may cripple a horse by +entangling his feet, or by catching on a snag in the woods. Once +loose, the horse generally starts off home on a trot. But he is not +always faithful. When a number of these horses are together, they +will occasionally play too long on the way. A great liking for grass +sometimes tempts them into a ditch, where they may eat grass even +though the reins are up.</p> + +<p>The lot of a return horse is generally a hard one. A usurper +occasionally catches a horse and rides him far away. Then, too often, +his owner blames + +<!-- Page 118 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> +him for the delay, and for a time gives him only +half-feed to "teach him not to fool along." Generally the return horse +must also be a good snow horse, able to flounder and willing to make +his way through deep drifts. He may be thirsty on a warm day, but he +must go all the way home before having a drink. Often, in winter, he +is turned loose at night on some bleak height to go back over a lonely +trail, a task which he does not like. Horses, like most animals and +like man, are not at ease when alone. A fallen tree across the trail +or deepened snow sometimes makes the horse's return journey a hard +one. On rare occasions, cinch or bridle gets caught on a snag or +around his legs, and cripples him or entangles him so that he falls +a victim to the unpitying mountain lion or some other carnivorous +animal.</p> + +<p>I have never met a return horse without stopping to watch it as +far as it could be seen. They always go along with such unconscious +confidence and quiet alertness that they are a delight to behold. Many +good days I have had in their company, and on more than one occasion +their alertness, + +<!-- Page 119 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> +skill, and strength have saved me either from injury +or from the clutches of that great white terror the snow-slide.</p> + +<p>The February morning that I rode "Midget" out of Alma began what +proved to be by far the most delightful association that I have ever +had with a return horse, and one of the happiest experiences with +nature and a dumb animal that has ever come into my life.</p> + +<p>I was in government experiment work as "State Snow Observer," and +wanted to make some observations on the summit peaks of the +"Twelve-Mile" and other ranges. Midget was to carry me far up the side +of these mountains to the summit of Hoosier Pass. A heavy snow had +fallen a few days before I started out. The wind had drifted most of +this out of the open and piled it deeply in the woods and gulches. +Midget galloped merrily away over the wind-swept ground. We came to +a gulch, I know not how deep, that was filled with snow, and here I +began to appreciate Midget. Across this gulch it was necessary for us +to go. The snow was so deep and so soft that I dismounted and put +on my snowshoes and started + +<!-- Page 120 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span> +to lead Midget across. She followed +willingly. After a few steps, a flounder and a snort caused me to look +back, and all I could see of Midget was her two little ears wriggling +in the snow. When we reached the other side, Midget came out breathing +heavily, and at once shook her head to dislodge the snow from her +forehead and her ears. She was impatient to go on, and before I could +take off my snowshoes and strap them on my back, she was pawing the +ground impatiently, first with one little fore foot and then with the +other. I leaped into the saddle and away we went again. We had a very +pleasant morning of it.</p> + +<p>About eleven o'clock I dismounted to take a picture of the snowy slope +of Mt. Silverheels. Evidently Midget had never before seen a kodak. +She watched with extraordinary interest the standing of the little +three-legged affair upon the ground and the mounting of the small +black box upon it. She pointed her ears at it; tilted her head to one +side and moved her nose up and down. I moved away from her several +feet to take the picture. She eyed the kodak with such intentness that +I invited + +<!-- Page 121 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span> +her to come over and have a look at it. She came at once, +turning her head and neck to one side to prevent the bridle-reins, +which I had thrown upon the ground, from entangling her feet. Once by +me, she looked the kodak and tripod over with interest, smelled of +them, but was careful not to strike the tripod with her feet or to +overturn it and the kodak with her nose. She seemed so interested that +I told her all about what I was doing,—what I was taking a picture +of, why I was taking it, and how long an exposure I was going to give +it; and finally I said to her: "To-morrow, Midget, when you are back +in your stall in the barn at Alma, eating oats, I shall be on the +other side of Mt. Silverheels, taking pictures there. Do you +understand?" She pawed the ground with her right fore foot with +such a satisfied look upon her face that I was sure she thought she +understood all about it.</p> + +<p>From time to time I took other pictures, and after the first +experience Midget did not wait to be invited to come over and watch +me, but always followed me to every new spot where I set + +<!-- Page 122 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span> +the tripod +and kodak down, and on each occasion I talked freely with her, and she +seemed to understand and to be much interested.</p> + +<p>Shortly after noon, when I was taking a picture, Midget managed to get +her nose into my mammoth outside coat-pocket. There she found +something to her liking. It was my habit to eat lightly when rambling +about the mountains, often eating only once a day, and occasionally +going two or three days without food. I had a few friends who were +concerned about me, and who were afraid I might some time starve to +death. So, partly as a joke and partly in earnest, they would mail me +a package of something to eat, whenever they knew at what post-office +I was likely to turn up. At Alma, the morning I hired Midget, the +prize package which I drew from the post-office contained salted +peanuts. I did not care for them, but put them into my pocket. It was +past noon and Midget was hungry. I was chattering away to her about +picture-taking when, feeling her rubbing me with her nose, I put my +hand around to find that she was eating salted peanuts from my big +coat-pocket. Midget enjoyed them + +<!-- Page 123 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> +so much that I allowed her to put +her nose into my pocket and help herself, and from time to time, too, +I gave her a handful of them until they were all gone.</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon, Midget and I arrived at the top of Hoosier +Pass. I told her to look tired and I would take her picture. She +dropped her head and neck a little, and there on the wind-swept pass, +with the wind-swept peaks in the background, I photographed her. Then +I told her it was time to go home, that it was sure to be after dark +before she could get back. So I tightened the cinches, fastened up the +bridle-rein over the horn of the saddle, and told her to go. She +looked around at me, but did not move. Evidently she preferred to stay +with me. So I spoke to her sternly and said, "Midget, you will have +to go home!" Without even looking round, she kicked up her heels and +trotted speedily down the mountain and disappeared. I did not imagine +that we would meet again for some time.</p> + +<p>I went on, and at timber-line on Mt. Lincoln I built a camp-fire and +without bedding spent the night by it. The next day I climbed several +peaks, took + +<!-- Page 124 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> +many photographs, measured many snowdrifts, and made many +notes in my notebook. When night came on, I descended from the crags +and snows into the woods, built a fire, and spent the night by it, +sleeping for a little while at a time. Awakening with the cold, I +would get up and revive my fire, and then lie down to sleep. The next +day a severe storm came on, and I was compelled to huddle by my fire +all day, for the wind was so fierce and the snow so blinding that it +would have been extremely risky to try to cross the craggy and +slippery mountain-summits. All that day I stayed by the fire, but that +night, instead of trying to get a little sleep there, I crawled into a +newly formed snowdrift, and in it slept soundly and quite comfortably +until morning. Toward noon the storm ceased, but it had delayed me a +day. I had brought with me only a pound of raisins, and had eaten +these during the first two days. I felt rather hungry, and almost +wished I had saved some of the salted peanuts that I had given Midget, +but I felt fresh and vigorous, and joyfully I made my way over the +snowy crest of the continent.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 125 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> +</div> + +<p>Late that night I came into the mining-town of Leadville. At the hotel +I found letters and a telegram awaiting me. This telegram told me that +it was important for me to come to the Pike's Peak National Forest at +the earliest possible moment.</p> + +<p>After a light supper and an hour's rest, I again tied on my snowshoes, +and at midnight started to climb. The newly fallen snow on the steep +mountain-side was soft and fluffy. I sank so deeply into it and made +such slow progress that it was late in the afternoon of the next day +before I reached timber-line on the other side. The London mine lay a +little off my course, and knowing that miners frequently rode return +horses up to it, I thought that by going to the mine I might secure a +return horse to carry me back to Alma, which was about thirteen miles +away. With this in mind, I started off in a hurry. In my haste I +caught one of my webbed shoes on the top of a gnarly, storm-beaten +tree that was buried and hidden in the snow. I fell, or rather dived, +into the snow, and in so doing broke a snowshoe and lost my hat. This +affair delayed me a little, and I gave up going to + +<!-- Page 126 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span> +the mine, but +concluded to go to the trail about a mile below it, and there +intercept the first return horse that came down. Just before I reached +the trail, I heard a horse coming.</p> + +<p>As this trail was constantly used, the snow was packed down, while the +untrampled snow on each side of it lay from two to four feet deep. +Seeing that this pony was going to get past before I could reach the +trail, I stopped, took a breath, and called out to it. When I said, +"Hello, pony," the pony did not hello. Instead of slackening its pace, +it seemed to increase it. Knowing that this trail was one that Midget +had often to cover, I concluded as a forlorn hope to call her name, +thinking that the pony might be Midget. So I called out, "Hello, +Midget!" The pony at once stopped, looked all around, and gave a +delighted little whinny. It was Midget! The instant she saw me, she +tried to climb up out of the trail into the deep snow where I was, but +I hastened to prevent her. Leaping down by her side, I put my arm +around her neck, and told her that I was very glad to see her, and +that I wanted to ride to Alma. Her nose found its way into my +coat-pocket. + +<!-- Page 127 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> +"Well, Midget, it is too bad. Really, I was not +expecting to see you, and I haven't a single salted peanut, but if you +will just allow me to ride this long thirteen miles into Alma, I will +give you all the salted peanuts that you will be allowed to eat. I am +tired, and should very much like to have a ride. Will you take me?" +She at once started to paw the snowy trail with a small fore foot, as +much as to say, "Hurry up!" I took off my snowshoes, and without +waiting to fasten them on my back, jumped into the saddle. In a +surprisingly short time, and with loud stamping on the floor, Midget +carried me into the livery barn at Alma.</p> + +<p>When her owner saw a man in the saddle, he was angry, and reminded me +that it was unfair and illegal to capture a return horse; but when he +recognized me, he at once changed his tone, and he became friendly +when I told him that Midget had invited me to ride. He said that as +she had invited me to ride I should have to pay the damages to her. +I told him that we had already agreed to this. "But how in thunder +did you catch her?" he asked. "Yesterday Pat O'Brien tried + +<!-- Page 128 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span> +that, and he is now in the hospital with two broken ribs. She kicked him."</p> + +<p>I said good-bye to Midget, and went to my supper, leaving her +contentedly eating salted peanuts.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">Faithful Scotch</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 131 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span> +<a name="Faithful_Scotch" id="Faithful_Scotch"></a> +</div> + +<h2>Faithful Scotch</h2> + +<p>I carried little Scotch all day long in my overcoat pocket as I rode +through the mountains on the way to my cabin. His cheerful, cunning +face, his good behavior, and the clever way in which he poked his +head out of my pocket, licked my hand, and looked at the scenery, +completely won my heart before I had ridden an hour. That night he +showed so strikingly the strong, faithful characteristics for which +collies are noted that I resolved never to part with him. Since then +we have had great years together. We have been hungry and happy +together, and together we have played by the cabin, faced danger in +the wilds, slept peacefully among the flowers, followed the trails +by starlight, and cuddled down in winter's drifting snow.</p> + +<p>On my way home through the mountains with puppy Scotch, I stopped for +a night near a deserted ranch-house and shut him up in a small +abandoned cabin. He at once objected and set up a terrible barking and +howling, gnawing fiercely + +<!-- Page 132 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> +at the crack beneath the door and trying to +tear his way out. Fearing he would break his little puppy teeth, or +possibly die from frantic and persistent efforts to be free, I +concluded to release him from the cabin. My fears that he would run +away if left free were groundless. He made his way to my saddle, which +lay on the ground near by, crawled under it, turned round beneath it, +and thrust his little head from beneath the arch of the horn and lay +down with a look of contentment, and also with an air which said, +"I'll take care of this saddle. I'd like to see any one touch it."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 345px;"><a name="SCOTCH_NEAR_TIMBER_LINE" id="SCOTCH_NEAR_TIMBER_LINE"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p132_scotch.jpg" width="345" height="600" alt="SCOTCH NEAR TIMBER LINE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">SCOTCH NEAR TIMBER LINE</span> +</div> + +<p>And watch it he did. At midnight a cowboy came to my camp-fire. He had +been thrown from his bronco and was making back to his outfit on foot. +In approaching the fire his path lay close to my saddle, beneath which +Scotch was lying. Tiny Scotch flew at him ferociously; never have I +seen such faithful ferociousness in a dog so small and young. I took +him in my hands and assured him that the visitor was welcome, and in +a moment little Scotch and the cowboy were side by side gazing at the +fire.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 133 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> +</div> + +<p>I suppose his bravery and watchful spirit may be instinct inherited +from his famous forbears who lived so long and so cheerfully on +Scotland's heaths and moors. But, with all due respect for inherited +qualities, he also has a brain that does a little thinking and meets +emergencies promptly and ably.</p> + +<p>He took serious objection to the coyotes which howled, serenaded, and +made merry in the edge of the meadow about a quarter of a mile from my +cabin. Just back of their howling-ground was a thick forest of pines, +in which were scores of broken rocky crags. Into the tangled forest +the coyotes always retreated when Scotch gave chase, and into this +retreat he dared not pursue them. So long as the coyotes sunned +themselves, kept quiet, and played, Scotch simply watched them +contentedly from afar; but the instant they began to howl and yelp, he +at once raced over and chased them into the woods. They often yelped +and taunted him from their safe retreat, but Scotch always took pains +to lie down on the edge of the open and remain there until they became +quiet or went away.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 134 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> +</div> + +<p>During the second winter that Scotch was with me and before he was two +years of age, one of the wily coyotes showed a tantalizing spirit and +some interesting cunning which put Scotch on his mettle. One day when +Scotch was busy driving the main pack into the woods, one that trotted +lame with the right fore leg emerged from behind a rocky crag at the +edge of the open and less than fifty yards from Scotch. Hurrying to +a willow clump about fifty yards in Scotch's rear, he set up a broken +chorus of yelps and howls, seemingly with delight and to the great +annoyance of Scotch, who at once raced back and chased the noisy +taunter into the woods.</p> + +<p>The very next time that Scotch was chasing the pack away, the crippled +coyote again sneaked from behind the crag, took refuge behind the +willow clump, and began delivering a perfect shower of broken yelps. +Scotch at once turned back and gave chase. Immediately the entire pack +wheeled from retreat and took up defiant attitudes in the open, but +this did not seem to trouble Scotch; he flung himself upon them with +great ferocity, and finally drove them all back into the woods. + +<!-- Page 135 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span> +However, the third time that the cunning coyote had come to his rear, +the entire pack stopped in the edge of the open and, for a time, +defied him. He came back from this chase panting and tired and +carrying every expression of worry. It seemed to prey upon him to +such an extent that I became a little anxious about him.</p> + +<p>One day, just after this affair, I went for the mail, and allowed +Scotch to go with me. I usually left him at the cabin, and he stayed +unchained and was faithful, though it was always evident that he was +anxious to go with me and also that he was exceedingly lonely when +left behind. But on this occasion he showed such eagerness to go that +I allowed him the pleasure.</p> + +<p>At the post-office he paid but little attention to the dogs which, +with their masters, were assembled there, and held himself aloof from +them, squatting on the ground with head erect and almost an air of +contempt for them, but it was evident that he was watching their every +move. When I started homeward, he showed great satisfaction by leaping +and barking.</p> + +<p>That night was wildly stormy, and I concluded to + +<!-- Page 136 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> +go out and enjoy the +storm on some wind-swept crags. Scotch was missing and I called him, +but he did not appear, so I went alone. After being tossed by the wind +for more than an hour, I returned to the cabin, but Scotch was still +away. This had never occurred before, so I concluded not to go to bed +until he returned. He came home after daylight, and was accompanied by +another dog,—a collie, which belonged to a rancher who lived about +fifteen miles away. I remembered to have seen this dog at the +post-office the day before. My first thought was to send the dog home, +but I finally concluded to allow him to remain, to see what would come +of his presence, for it was apparent that Scotch had gone for him. He +appropriated Scotch's bed in the tub, to the evident satisfaction of +Scotch. During the morning the two played together in the happiest +possible manner for more than an hour. At noon I fed them together.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon, while I was writing, I heard the varied voices of +the coyote pack, and went out with my glass to watch proceedings, +wondering how the visiting collie would play his part. There + +<!-- Page 137 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> +went Scotch, as I supposed, racing for the yelping pack, but the visiting +collie was not to be seen. The pack beat the usual sullen, scattering +retreat, and while the dog, which I supposed to be Scotch, was chasing +the last slow tormenter into the woods, from behind the crag came the +big limping coyote, hurrying toward the willow clump from behind which +he was accustomed to yelp triumphantly in Scotch's rear. I raised the +glass for a better look, all the time wondering where the visiting +collie was keeping himself. I was unable to see him, yet I recollected +he was with Scotch less than an hour before.</p> + +<p>The lame coyote came round the willow clump as usual, and threw up his +head as though to bay at the moon. Then the unexpected happened. On +the instant, Scotch leaped into the air out of the willow clump, and +came down upon the coyote's back! They rolled about for some time, +when the coyote finally shook himself free and started at a lively +limping pace for the woods, only to be grabbed again by the visiting +collie, which had been chasing the pack, and which I had mistaken for +Scotch. The pack beat a swift retreat. For a + +<!-- Page 138 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span> +time both dogs fought +the coyote fiercely, but he at last tore himself free, and escaped +into the pines, badly wounded and bleeding. I never saw him again. +That night the visiting collie went home. As Scotch was missing that +night for a time, I think he may have accompanied him at least a part +of the way.</p> + +<p>One day a young lady from Michigan came along and wanted to climb +Long's Peak all alone, without a guide. I agreed to consent to this +if first she would climb one of the lesser peaks unaided, on a stormy +day. This the young lady did, and by so doing convinced me that she +had a keen sense of direction and an abundance of strength, for the +day on which she climbed was a stormy one, and the peak was completely +befogged with clouds. After this, there was nothing for me to do but +allow her to climb Long's Peak alone.</p> + +<p>Just as she was starting, that cool September morning, I thought to +provide for an emergency by sending Scotch with her. He knew the trail +well and would, of course, lead her the right way, providing she lost +the trail. "Scotch," said I, "go with + +<!-- Page 139 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> +this young lady, take good care +of her, and stay with her till she returns. Don't you desert her." He +gave a few barks of satisfaction and started with her up the trail, +carrying himself in a manner which indicated that he was both honored +and pleased. I felt that the strength and alertness of the young lady, +when combined with the faithfulness and watchfulness of Scotch, would +make the journey a success, so I went about my affairs as usual. When +darkness came on that evening, the young lady had not returned.</p> + +<p>She climbed swiftly until she reached the rocky alpine moorlands above +timber-line. Here she lingered long to enjoy the magnificent scenery +and the brilliant flowers. It was late in the afternoon when she +arrived at the summit of the peak. After she had spent a little time +there resting and absorbing the beauty and grandeur of the scene, she +started to return. She had not proceeded far when clouds and darkness +came on, and on a slope of slide-rock she lost the trail.</p> + +<p>Scotch had minded his own affairs and enjoyed himself in his own way +all day long. Most of the time he followed her closely, apparently +indifferent to + +<!-- Page 140 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> +what happened, but when she, in the darkness, left the +trail and started off in the wrong direction, he at once came forward, +and took the lead with an alert, aggressive air. The way in which he +did this should have suggested to the young lady that he knew what he +was about, but she did not appreciate this fact. She thought he had +become weary and wanted to run away from her, so she called him back. +Again she started in the wrong direction; this time Scotch got in +front of her and refused to move. She pushed him out of the way. Once +more he started off in the right direction, and this time she scolded +him and reminded him that his master had told him not to desert her. +Scotch dropped his ears and sheepishly fell in behind her and followed +meekly along. He had obeyed orders.</p> + +<p>After traveling a short distance, the young lady realized that she had +lost her way, but it never occurred to her that she had only to trust +Scotch and he would lead her directly home. However, she had the good +sense to stop where she was, and there, among the crags, by the +stained remnants of winter's snow, thirteen thousand feet above + +<!-- Page 141 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> +sea-level, she was to spend the night. The cold wind blew a gale, +roaring and booming among the crags, the alpine brooklet turned to +ice, while, in the lee of the crag, shivering with cold, hugging +shaggy Scotch in her arms, she lay down for the night.</p> + +<p>I had given my word not to go in search of her if she failed to +return. However, I sent out four guides to look for her. They suffered +much from cold as they vainly searched among the crags through the +dark hours of the windy night. Just at sunrise one of them found her, +almost exhausted, but, with slightly frost-bitten fingers, still +hugging Scotch in her arms. He gave her food and drink and additional +wraps, and without delay started with her down the trail. As soon as +she was taken in charge by the guide, patient Scotch left her and +hurried home. He had saved her life.</p> + +<p>Scotch's hair is long and silky, black with a touch of tawny about the +head and a little bar of white on the nose. He has the most expressive +and pleasing dog's face I have ever seen. There is nothing he enjoys +so well as to have some + +<!-- Page 142 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span> +one kick the football for him. For an hour at +a time he will chase it and try to get hold of it, giving an +occasional eager, happy bark. He has good eyes, and these, with his +willingness to be of service, have occasionally made him useful to me +in finding articles which I, or some one else, had forgotten or lost +on the trail. Generally it is difficult to make him understand just +what has been lost or where he is to look for it, but when once he +understands, he keeps up the search, sometimes for hours if he does +not find the article before. He is always faithful in guarding any +object that I ask him to take care of. I have but to throw down a coat +and point at it, and he will at once lie down near by, there to remain +until I come to dismiss him. He will allow no one else to touch it. +His attitude never fails to convey the impression that he would die +in defense of the thing intrusted to him, but desert it or give it up, +never!</p> + +<p>One February day I took Scotch and started up Long's Peak, hoping to +gain its wintry summit. Scotch easily followed in my snowshoe-tracks. +At an altitude of thirteen thousand feet on + +<!-- Page 143 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span> +the wind-swept steeps +there was but little snow, and it was necessary to leave snowshoes +behind. After climbing a short distance on these icy slopes, I became +alarmed for the safety of Scotch. By and by I had to cut steps in the +ice. This made the climb too perilous for him, as he could not realize +the danger he was in should he miss a step. There were places where +slipping from these steps meant death, so I told Scotch to go back. I +did not, however, tell him to watch my snowshoes, for so dangerous was +the climb that I did not know that I should ever get back to them +myself. However, he went to the snowshoes, and with them he remained +for eight cold hours until I came back by the light of the stars.</p> + +<p>On a few occasions I allowed Scotch to go with me on short winter +excursions. He enjoyed these immensely, although he had a hard time of +it and but very little to eat. When we camped among the spruces in the +snow, he seemed to enjoy sitting by my side and silently watching the +evening fire, and he contentedly cuddled with me to keep warm at +night.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 144 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="THE_CLOUD-CAPPED_CONTINENTAL_DIVIDE" id="THE_CLOUD-CAPPED_CONTINENTAL_DIVIDE"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p144_cloudcapped.jpg" width="600" height="360" alt="THE CLOUD-CAPPED CONTINENTAL DIVIDE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE CLOUD-CAPPED CONTINENTAL DIVIDE</span> +</div> + +<p>One cold day we were returning from a four days' excursion when, a +little above timber-line, I stopped to take some photographs. To do +this it was necessary for me to take off my sheepskin mittens, which I +placed in my coat-pocket, but not securely, as it proved. From time to +time, as I climbed to the summit of the Continental Divide, I stopped +to take photographs, but on the summit the cold pierced my silk gloves +and I felt for my mittens, to find that one of them was lost. I +stooped, put an arm around Scotch, and told him I had lost a mitten, +and that I wanted him to go down for it to save me the trouble. "It +won't take you very long, but it will be a hard trip for me. Go and +fetch it to me." Instead of starting off hurriedly, willingly, as he +had invariably done before in obedience to my commands, he stood +still. His alert, eager ears drooped, but no other move did he make. +I repeated the command in my most kindly tones. At this, instead of +starting down the mountain for the mitten, he slunk slowly away toward +home. It was clear that he did not want to climb down the steep icy +slope of a mile to timber-line, more than a thousand feet below. + +<!-- Page 145 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span> +I thought he had misunderstood me, so I called him back, patted him, and +then, pointing down the slope, said, "Go for the mitten, Scotch; I +will wait here for you." He started for it, but went unwillingly. He +had always served me so cheerfully that I could not understand, and it +was not until late the next afternoon that I realized that he had not +understood me, but that he had loyally, and at the risk of his life, +tried to obey me.</p> + +<p>The summit of the Continental Divide, where I stood when I sent him +back, was a very rough and lonely region. On every hand were broken +snowy peaks and rugged cañons. My cabin, eighteen miles away, was the +nearest house to it, and the region was utterly wild. I waited a +reasonable time for Scotch to return, but he did not come back. +Thinking he might have gone by without my seeing him, I walked some +distance along the summit, first in one direction and then in the +other, but, seeing neither him nor his tracks, I knew that he had not +yet come back. As it was late in the afternoon, and growing colder, +I decided to go slowly on toward my cabin. I started along + +<!-- Page 146 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span> +a route that +I felt sure he would follow, and I reasoned that he would overtake me. +Darkness came on and still no Scotch, but I kept going forward. For +the remainder of the way I told myself that he might have got by me in +the darkness.</p> + +<p>When, at midnight, I arrived at the cabin, I expected to be greeted by +him, but he was not there. I felt that something was wrong and feared +that he had met with an accident. I slept two hours and rose, but +still he was missing, so I concluded to tie on my snowshoes and go to +meet him. The thermometer showed fourteen below zero.</p> + +<p>I started at three o'clock in the morning, feeling that I should meet +him without going far. I kept going on and on, and when, at noon, +I arrived at the place on the summit from which I had sent him back, +Scotch was not there to cheer the wintry, silent scene.</p> + +<p>I slowly made my way down the slope, and at two in the afternoon, +twenty-four hours after I had sent Scotch back, I paused on a crag and +looked below. There in the snowy world of white he + +<!-- Page 147 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> +lay by the mitten +in the snow. He had misunderstood me, and had gone back to guard the +mitten instead of to get it. He could hardly contain himself for joy +when he saw me. He leaped into the air, barked, jumped, rolled over, +licked my hand, whined, grabbed the mitten, raced round and round me, +and did everything that an alert, affectionate, faithful dog could do +to show that he appreciated my appreciation of his supremely faithful +services.</p> + +<p>After waiting for him to eat a luncheon, we started merrily towards +home, where we arrived at one o'clock in the morning. Had I not +returned, I suppose Scotch would have died beside the mitten. In a +region cold, cheerless, oppressive, without food, and perhaps to die, +he lay down by the mitten because he understood that I had told him +to. In the annals of dog heroism, I know of no greater deed.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">Bob and Some Other Birds</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 151 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> +<a name="Bob_and_Some_Other_Birds" id="Bob_and_Some_Other_Birds"></a> +</div> + +<h2>Bob and Some Other Birds</h2> + +<p>Birds are plentiful on the Rockies, and the accumulating information +concerning them may, in a few years, accredit Colorado with having +more kinds of birds than any other State. The mountains and plains of +Colorado carry a wide range of geographic conditions,—a variety of +life-zones,—and in many places there is an abundance of bird-food of +many kinds. These conditions naturally produce a large variety of +birds throughout the State.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding this array of feathered inhabitants, most tourists who +visit the West complain of a scarcity of birds. But birds the Rockies +have, and any bird-student could tell why more of them are not seen by +tourists. The loud manners of most tourists who invade the Rockies +simply put the birds to flight. When I hear the approach of tourists +in the wilds, I feel instinctively that I should fly for safety +myself. "Our little brothers of the air" the world over dislike the + +<!-- Page 152 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span> +crowd, and will linger only for those who come with deliberation and +quiet.</p> + +<p>This entire mountain-section, from foothills to mountain-summits, +is enlivened in nesting-time with scores of species of birds. Low +down on the foothills one will find Bullock's oriole, the red-headed +woodpecker, the Arkansas kingbird, and one will often see, and more +often hear, the clear, strong notes of the Western meadowlark ringing +over the hills and meadows. The wise, and rather murderous, magpie +goes chattering about. Here and there the quiet bluebird is seen. The +kingfisher is in his appointed place. Long-crested jays, Clarke's +crows, and pigmy nuthatches are plentiful, and the wild note of the +chickadee is heard on every hand. Above the altitude of eight thousand +feet you may hear, in June, the marvelous melody of Audubon's hermit +thrush.</p> + +<p>Along the brooks and streams lives the water-ouzel. This is one of the +most interesting and self-reliant of Rocky Mountain birds. It loves +the swift, cool mountain-streams. It feeds in them, nests within reach +of the splash of their spray, + +<!-- Page 153 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> +closely follows their bent and sinuous +course in flight, and from an islanded boulder mingles its liquid song +with the music of the moving waters. There is much in the life of the +ouzel that is refreshing and inspiring. I wish it were better known.</p> + +<p>Around timber-line in summer one may hear the happy song of the +white-throated sparrow. Here and above lives the leucosticte. Far +above the vanguard of the brave pines, where the brilliant flowers +fringe the soiled remnants of winter's drifted snow, where sometimes +the bees hum and the painted butterflies sail on easy wings, the +broad-tailed hummingbird may occasionally be seen, while still higher +the eagles soar in the quiet bending blue. On the heights, sometimes +nesting at an altitude of thirteen thousand feet, is found the +ptarmigan, which, like the Eskimo, seems supremely contented in the +land of crags and snows.</p> + +<p>Of all the birds on the Rockies, the one most marvelously eloquent is +the solitaire. I have often felt that everything stood still and that +every beast and bird listened while the matchless + +<!-- Page 154 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span> +solitaire sang. The +hermit thrush seems to suppress one, to give one a touch of reflective +loneliness; but the solitaire stirs one to be up and doing, gives +one the spirit of youth. In the solitaire's song one feels all the +freshness and the promise of spring. The song seems to be born of ages +of freedom beneath peaceful skies, of the rhythm of the universe, of a +mingling of the melody of winds and waters and of all rhythmic sounds +that murmur and echo out of doors and of every song that Nature sings +in the wild gardens of the world. I am sure I have never been more +thoroughly wide awake and hopeful than when listening to the +solitaire's song. The world is flushed with a diviner atmosphere, +every object carries a fresher significance, there are new thoughts +and clear, calm hopes sure to be realized on the enchanted fields of +the future. I was camping alone one evening in the deep solitude +of the Rockies. The slanting sun-rays were glowing on St. Vrain's +crag-crowned hills and everything was at peace, when, from a near-by +treetop came the triumphant, hopeful song of a solitaire, and I forgot +all except that the world was + +<!-- Page 155 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> +young. One believes in fairies when the +solitaire sings. Some of my friends have predicted that I shall some +time meet with an accident and perish in the solitudes alone. If their +prediction should come true, I shall hope it will be in the +summer-time, while the flowers are at their best, and that during my +last conscious moments I shall hear the melody of the solitaire +singing as I die with the dying day.</p> + +<p>I sat for hours in the woods one day, watching a pair of chickadees +feeding their young ones. There were nine of these hungry midgets, +and, like nine small boys, they not only were always hungry, but were +capable of digesting everything. They ate spiders and flies, green +worms, ants, millers, dirty brown worms, insect-eggs by the dozen, +devil's-darning-needles, woodlice, bits of lichen, grasshoppers, and +I know not how many other things. I could not help thinking that when +one family of birds destroyed such numbers of injurious insects, if +all the birds were to stop eating, the insects would soon destroy +every green tree and plant on earth.</p> + +<p>One of the places where I used to camp to enjoy + +<!-- Page 156 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> +the flowers, the +trees, and the birds was on the shore of a glacier lake. Near the lake +were eternal snows, rugged gorges, and forests primeval. To its shore, +especially in autumn, came many bird callers. I often screened myself +in a dense clump of fir trees on the north shore to study the manners +of birds which came near. To help attract and detain them, I scattered +feed on the shore, and I spent interesting hours and days in my +hiding-place enjoying the etiquette of birds at feast and frolic.</p> + +<p>I was lying in the sun, one afternoon, just outside my fir clump, +gazing out across the lake, when a large black bird alighted on the +shore some distance around the lake. "Surely," I said to myself, "that +is a crow." A crow I had not seen or heard of in that part of the +country. I wanted to call to him that he was welcome to eat at my +free-lunch counter, when it occurred to me that I was in plain sight. +Before I could move, the bird rose in the air and started flying +leisurely toward me. I hoped he would see, or smell, the feed and +tarry for a time; but he rose as he advanced, and as he appeared to +be looking ahead, + +<!-- Page 157 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> +I had begun to fear he would go by without stopping, +when he suddenly wheeled and at the same instant said "Hurrah," as +distinctly as I have ever heard it spoken, and dropped to the feed. +The clearness, energy, and unexpectedness of his "Hurrah" startled +me. He alighted and began to eat, evidently without suspecting my +presence, notwithstanding the fact that I lay only a few feet away. +Some days before, a mountain lion had killed a mountain sheep; a part +of this carcass I had dragged to my bird table. Upon this the crow, +for such he was, alighted and fed ravenously for some time. Then he +paused, straightened up, and took a look about. His eye fell on me, +and instantly he squatted as if to hurl himself in hurried flight, but +he hesitated, then appeared as if starting to burst out with "Caw" or +some such exclamation, but changed his mind and repressed it. Finally +he straightened and fixed himself for another good look at me. I did +not move, and my clothes must have been a good shade of protective +coloring, for he seemed to conclude that I was not worth considering. +He looked straight at me for a few seconds, + +<!-- Page 158 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> +uttered another "Hurrah," +which he emphasized with a defiant gesture, and went on energetically +eating. In the midst of this, something alarmed him, and he flew +swiftly away and did not come back. Was this crow a pet that had +concluded to strike out for himself? Or had his mimicry or his habit +of laying hold of whatever pleased him caused him to appropriate this +word from bigger folk?</p> + +<p>Go where you will over the Rockies and the birds will be with you. One +day I spent several hours on the summit of Long's Peak, and while +there twelve species of birds alighted or passed near enough for me to +identify them. One of these birds was an eagle, another a hummingbird.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="PTARMIGAN" id="PTARMIGAN"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p158_ptarmigan.jpg" width="600" height="360" alt="PTARMIGAN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">PTARMIGAN</span> +</div> + +<p>On a June day, while the heights were more than half covered with +winter's snow, I came across the nest of a ptarmigan near a drift and +at an altitude of thirteen thousand feet above sea-level. The +ptarmigan, with their home above tree-line, amid eternal snows, are +wonderfully self-reliant and self-contained. The ouzel, too, is +self-poised, indifferent to all the world but his brook, and + +<!-- Page 159 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> +showing an appreciation for water greater, I think, than that of any +other landsman. These birds, the ptarmigan and the ouzel, along with +the willow thrush, who sings out his melody amid the shadows of the +pines, who puts his woods into song,—these birds of the mountains are +with me when memory takes me back a solitary visitor to the lonely +places of the Rockies.</p> + +<p>The birds of the Rockies, as well as the bigger folk who live there, +have ways of their own which distinguish them from their kind in the +East. They sing with more enthusiasm, but with the same subtle tone +that everywhere tells that all is right with the world, and makes all +to the manner born glad to be alive.</p> + +<p>Nothing delights me more than to come across a person who is +interested in trees; and I have long thought that any one who +appreciates trees or birds is one who is either good or great, or +both. I consider it an honor to converse with one who knows the birds +and the trees, and have more than once gone out of my way to meet one +of those favored mortals. I remember one cold morning I came down off +the mountains and went + +<!-- Page 160 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span> +into a house to get warm. Rather I went in to +scrape an acquaintance with whomsoever could be living there who +remembered the birds while snow and cold prevailed,—when Nature +forgot. To get warm was a palpable excuse. I was not cold; I had no +need to stop; I simply wanted to meet the people who had, on this day +at least, put out food and warm water for the birds; but I have ever +since been glad that I went in, for the house shielded from the +cold a family whom it is good to know, and, besides making their +acquaintance, I met "Bob" and heard her story.</p> + +<p>Every one in the house was fond of pets. Rex, a huge St. Bernard, +greeted me at the door, and with a show of satisfaction accompanied me +to a chair near the stove. In going to the chair some forlorn +snowbirds, "that Sarah had found nearly frozen while out feeding the +birds this morning," hopped out of my way. As I sat down, I noticed an +old sack on the floor against the wall before me. All at once this +sack came to life, had an idea, or was bewitched, I thought. Anyway it +became so active that it held my attention for several + +<!-- Page 161 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span> +seconds, and +gave me a little alarm. I was relieved when out of it tumbled an +aggressive rooster, which advanced a few steps, flapped, and crowed +lustily. "He was brought in to get thawed out; I suppose you will next +be wondering where we keep the pig," said my hostess as she advanced +to stir the fire, after which she examined "two little cripples," +birds in a box behind the stove.</p> + +<p>I moved to a cooler seat, by a door which led into an adjoining room. +After I had sat down, "Bob," a pet quail, came from somewhere, and +advanced with the most serene and dignified air to greet me. After +pausing to eye me for a moment, with a look of mingled curiosity and +satisfaction, she went under my chair and squatted confidingly on the +floor. Bob was the first pet quail I had ever seen, and my questions +concerning her brought from my hostess the following story:—</p> + +<p>"One day last fall a flock of quail became frightened, and in their +excited flight one struck against a neighbor's window and was badly +stunned. My husband, who chanced to be near at the time, picked up the +injured one and brought it + +<!-- Page 162 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> +home. My three daughters, who at times had +had pet horses, snakes, turtles, and rats, welcomed this shy little +stranger and at once set about caring for her injuries. Just before +"Bob" had fully recovered, there came a heavy fall of snow, which was +followed by such a succession of storms that we concluded to keep her +with us, provided she was willing to stay. We gave her the freedom of +the house. For some time she was wild and shy; under a chair or the +lounge she would scurry if any one approached her. Plainly, she did +not feel welcome or safe in our house, and I gave up the idea of +taming her. One day, however, we had lettuce for dinner, and while we +were at the table Sarah, my eldest daughter, who has a gift for taming +and handling wild creatures, declared that Bob should eat out of her +hand before night. All that afternoon she tempted her with bits of +lettuce, and when evening came, had succeeded so well that never after +was Bob afraid of us. Whenever we sat down for a meal, Bob would come +running and quietly go in turn to each with coaxing sounds and +pleading looks, wanting to be fed. It was against the rules to feed +her at meals, but first + +<!-- Page 163 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> +one, then another, would slip something to +her under the table, trying at the same time to appear innocent. The +girls have always maintained that their mother, who made the rule, was +the first one to break it. No one could resist Bob's pretty, dainty, +coaxing ways.</p> + +<p>"She is particularly fond of pie-crust, and many a time I have found +the edge picked off the pie I had intended for dinner. Bob never fails +to find a pie, if one is left uncovered. I think it is the shortening +in the pie-crust that gives it the delicious flavor, for lard she +prefers above all of her many foods. She cares least of all for grain. +My daughters say that Bob's fondness for graham gems accounts for the +frequency of their recent appearances on our table.</p> + +<p>"After trying many places, Bob at last found a roosting-place that +suited her. This was in a leather collar-box on the bureau, where +she could nestle up close to her own image in the mirror. Since +discovering this place she has never failed to occupy it at night. +She is intelligent, and in so many ways pleasing that we are greatly +attached to her."</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 164 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> +</div> + +<p>Here I had to leave Bob and her good friends behind; but some months +afterward my hostess of that winter day told me the concluding +chapters of Bob's life.</p> + +<p>"Bob disliked to be handled; though pleasing and irresistibly winsome, +she was not in the least affectionate, and always maintained a +dignified, ladylike reserve. But with the appearance of spring she +showed signs of lonesomeness. With none of her kind to love, she +turned to Rex and on him lavished all of her affection. When Rex was +admitted to the house of a morning, she ran to meet him with a joyful +cackle,—an utterance she did not use on any other occasion,—and with +soft cooing sounds she followed him about the house. If Rex appeared +bored with her attentions and walked away, she followed after, and +persisted in tones that were surely scolding until he would lie down. +Whenever he lay with his huge head between his paws, she would nestle +down close to his face and remain content so long as he was quiet. +Sometimes when he was lying down she would climb slowly over him; at +each step she would put her foot down daintily, and as each foot + +<!-- Page 165 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> +touched him there was a slight movement of her head and a look of +satisfaction. These climbs usually ended by her scratching in the long +hair of his tail, and then nestling down into it.</p> + +<p>"One day I was surprised to see her kiss Rex. When I told my family of +this, they laughed heartily and were unable to believe me. Later, we +all witnessed this pretty sight many times. She seemed to prefer to +kiss him when he was lying down, with his head raised a little above +the floor. Finding him in this position, she would walk beside him, +reach up and kiss his face again and again, all the time cooing softly +to him.</p> + +<p>"Toward spring Bob's feathers became dull and somewhat ragged, and +with the warm days came our decision to let her go outside. She was +delighted to scratch in the loose earth around the rosebushes, and +eagerly fed on the insects she found there. Her plumage soon took on +its natural trimness and freshness. She did not show any inclination +to leave, and with Rex by her or near her, we felt that she was safe +from cats, so we soon allowed her to remain out all day long.</p> + +<p>"Passers-by often stopped to watch Bob and Rex + +<!-- Page 166 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span> +playing together. +Sometimes he would go lumbering across the yard while she, plainly +displeased at the fast pace, hurried after with an incessant scolding +chatter as much as to say: 'Don't go so fast, old fellow. How do you +expect me to keep up?' Sometimes, when Rex was lying down eating a +bone, she would stand on one of his fore legs and quietly pick away +at the bone.</p> + +<p>"The girls frequently went out to call her, and did so by whistling +'Bob White.' She never failed to answer promptly, and her response +sounded like <i>chee chos, chee chos</i>, which she uttered before +hurrying to them.</p> + +<p>"One summer morning I found her at the kitchen door waiting to be let +out. I opened the door and watched her go tripping down the steps. +When she started across the yard I cautioned her to 'be a little lady, +and don't get too far away.' Rex was away that morning, and soon one +of the girls went out to call her. Repeated calls brought no answer. +We all started searching. We wondered if the cat had caught her, or if +she had been lured away by the winning calls of her kind. Beneath a +cherry tree near the kitchen door, just as + +<!-- Page 167 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> +Rex came home, we found +her, bloody and dead. Rex, after pushing her body tenderly about with +his nose, as if trying to help her to rise, looked up and appealed +piteously to us. We buried her beneath the rosebush near which she +and Rex had played."</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">Kinnikinick</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 171 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span> +<a name="Kinnikinick" id="Kinnikinick"></a> +</div> + +<h2>Kinnikinick</h2> + +<p>The kinnikinick is a plant pioneer. Often it is the first plant to +make a settlement or establish a colony on a barren or burned-over +area. It is hardy, and is able to make a start and thrive in places so +inhospitable as to afford most plants not the slightest foothold. In +such places the kinnikinick's activities make changes which alter +conditions so beneficially that in a little while plants less hardy +come to join the first settler. The pioneer work done by the +kinnikinick on a barren and rocky realm has often resulted in the +establishment of a flourishing forest there.</p> + +<p>The kinnikinick, or <i>Arctostaphylos Uva-Ursi</i>, as the botanists name +it, may be called a ground-loving vine. Though always attractive, it +is in winter that it is at its best. Then its bright green leaves and +red berries shine among the snow-flowers in a quiet way that is +strikingly beautiful.</p> + +<p>Since it is beautiful as well as useful, I had long + +<!-- Page 172 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> +admired this +ever-cheerful, ever-spreading vine before I appreciated the good +though humble work it is constantly doing. I had often stopped to +greet it,—the only green thing upon a rock ledge or a sandy +stretch,—had walked over it in forest avenues beneath tall and +stately pines, and had slept comfortably upon its spicy, elastic rugs, +liking it from the first. But on one of my winter tramps I fell in +love with this beautiful evergreen.</p> + +<p>The day was a cold one, and the high, gusty wind was tossing and +playing with the last snow-fall. I had been snowshoeing through the +forest, and had come out upon an unsheltered ridge that was a part +of a barren area which repeated fires had changed from a forested +condition to desert. The snow lay several feet deep in the woods, but +as the gravelly distance before me was bare, I took off my snowshoes. +I went walking, and at times blowing, along the bleak ridge, scarcely +able to see through the snow-filled air. But during a lull the air +cleared of snow-dust and I paused to look about me. The wind still +roared in the distance, and against the blue eastern + +<!-- Page 173 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span> +sky it had a +column of snow whirling that was dazzling white in the afternoon sun. +On my left a mountain rose with easy slope to crag-crowned heights, +and for miles swept away before me with seared side barren and dull. +A few cloudlets of snowdrifts and a scattering of mere tufts of snow +stood out distinctly on this big, bare slope.</p> + +<p>I wondered what could be holding these few spots of snow on this +wind-swept slope. I finally went up to examine one of them. Thrust out +and lifted just above the snow of the tuft before me was the jeweled +hand of a kinnikinick; and every snow-deposit on the slope was held in +place by the green arms of this plant. Here was this beautiful +vinelike shrub gladly growing on a slope that had been forsaken by all +other plants.</p> + +<p>To state the situation fairly, all had been burned off by fire and +Kinnikinick was the first to come back, and so completely had fires +consumed the plant-food that many plants would be unable to live here +until better conditions prevailed and the struggle for existence was +made less severe. Kinnikinick was making the needed changes; in time +it + +<!-- Page 174 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span> +would prepare the way, and other plants, and the pines too, would +come back to carpet and plume the slope and prevent wind and water +from tearing and scarring the earth.</p> + +<p>The seeds of Kinnikinick are scattered by birds, chipmunks, wind, and +water. I do not know by what agency the seeds had come to this slope, +but here were the plants, and on this dry, fire-ruined, sun-scorched, +wind-beaten slope they must have endured many hardships. Many must +have perished before these living ones had made a secure start in +life.</p> + +<p>Once Kinnikinick has made a start, it is constantly assisted to +succeed by its own growing success. Its arms catch and hold snow, and +this gives a supply of much-needed water. This water is snugly stored +beneath the plant, where but little can be reached or taken by the sun +or the thirsty winds. The winds, too, which were so unfriendly while +it was trying to make a start, now become helpful to the brave, +persistent plant. Every wind that blows brings something to it,—dust, +powdered earth, trash, the remains of dead insects; some of this +material is carried for miles. All + +<!-- Page 175 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> +goes to form new soil, or to +fertilize or mulch the old. This supplies Kinnikinick's great needs. +The plant grows rich from the constant tribute of the winds. The +soil-bed grows deeper and richer and is also constantly outbuilding +and enlarging, and Kinnikinick steadily increases its size.</p> + +<p>In a few years a small oasis is formed in, or rather on, the barren. +This becomes a place of refuge for seed wanderers,—in fact, a +nursery. Up the slope I saw a young pine standing in a kinnikinick +snow-cover. In the edge of the snow-tuft by me, covered with a robe of +snow, I found a tiny tree, a mere baby pine. Where did this pine come +from? There were no seed-bearing pines within miles. How did a pine +seed find its way to this cosy nursery? Perhaps the following is its +story: The seed of this little pine, together with a score or more of +others, grew in a cone out near the end of the pine-tree limb. This +pine was on a mountain several miles from the fire-ruined slope, when +one windy autumn day some time after the seeds were ripe, the cone +began to open its fingers and the seeds came dropping out. The + +<!-- Page 176 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span> +seed of this baby tree was one of these, and when it tumbled out of the +cone the wind caught it, and away it went over trees, rocks, and +gulches, whirling and dancing in the autumn sunlight. After tumbling a +few miles in this wild flight, it came down among some boulders. Here +it lay until, one very windy day, it was caught up and whirled away +again. Before long it was dashed against a granite cliff and fell to +the ground; but in a moment, the wind found it and drove it, with a +shower of trash and dust, bounding and leaping across a barren slope, +plump into this kinnikinick nest. From this shelter the wind could not +drive it. Here the little seed might have said, "This is just the +place I was looking for; here is shelter from the wind and sun; the +soil is rich and damp; I am so tired, I think I'll take a sleep." When +the little seed awoke, it wore the green dress of the pine family. The +kinnikinick's nursery had given it a start in life.</p> + +<p>Under favorable conditions Kinnikinick is a comparatively rapid +grower. Its numerous vinelike limbs—little arms—spread or reach +outward from the central root, take a new hold upon + +<!-- Page 177 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> +the earth, and +prepare to reach again. The ground beneath it in a little while is +completely hidden by its closely crowding leafy arms. In places these +soft, pliable rugs unite and form extensive carpets. Strip off these +carpets and often all that remains is a barren exposure of sand or +gravel on bald or broken rocks, whose surfaces and edges have been +draped or buried by its green leaves and red berries.</p> + +<p>In May kinnikinick rugs become flower-beds. Each flower is a +narrow-throated, pink-lipped, creamy-white jug, and is filled with a +drop of exquisitely flavored honey. The jugs in a short time change to +smooth purple berries, and in autumn they take on their winter dress +of scarlet. When ripe the berries taste like mealy crab-apples. I have +often seen chipmunks eating the berries, or apples, sitting up with +the fruit in both their deft little hands, and eating it with such +evident relish that I frequently found myself thinking of these +berries as chipmunk's apples.</p> + +<p>Kinnikinick is widely distributed over the earth, and is most often +found on gravelly slopes or sandy stretches. Frequently you will find +it among + +<!-- Page 178 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> +scattered pines, trying to carpet their cathedral floor. +Many a summer day I have lain down and rested on these flat and fluffy +forest rugs, while between the tangled tops of the pines I looked at +the blue of the sky or watched the white clouds so serenely floating +there. Many a summer night upon these elastic spreads I have lain +and gazed at the thick-sown stars, or watched the ebbing, fading +camp-fire, at last to fall asleep and to rest as sweetly and serenely +as ever did the Scotchman upon his heathered Highlands. Many a morning +I have awakened late after a sleep so long that I had settled into the +yielding mass and Kinnikinick had put up an arm, either to shield my +face with its hand, or to show me, when I should awaken, its pretty +red berries and bright green leaves.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="SUMMER_AT_AN_ALTITUDE" id="SUMMER_AT_AN_ALTITUDE"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p178_summer.jpg" width="600" height="380" alt="SUMMER AT AN ALTITUDE OF 12,000 FEET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">SUMMER AT AN ALTITUDE OF 12,000 FEET</span> +</div> + +<p>One morning, while visiting in a Blackfoot Indian camp, I saw the +men smoking kinnikinick leaves, and I asked if they had any legend +concerning the shrub. I felt sure they must have a fascinating story +of it which told of the Great Spirit's love for Kinnikinick, but they +had none. One of them said he had heard the Piute Indians tell why + +<!-- Page 179 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> +the Great Spirit had made it, but he could not remember the account. +I inquired among many Indians, feeling that I should at last learn a +happy legend concerning it, but in vain. One night, however, by my +camp-fire, I dreamed that some Alaska Indians told me this legend:—</p> + +<p>Long, long ago, Kinnikinick was a small tree with brown berries and +broad leaves which dropped to the ground in autumn. One year a great +snow came while the leaves were still on, and all trees were flattened +upon the ground by the weight of the clinging snow. All broad-leaved +trees except Kinnikinick died. When the snow melted, Kinnikinick was +still alive, but pressed out upon the ground, crushed so that it could +not rise. It started to grow, however, and spread out its limbs on the +surface very like a root growth. The Great Spirit was so pleased with +Kinnikinick's efforts that he decided to let it live on in its new +form, and also that he would send it to colonize many places where it +had never been. He changed its berries from brown to red, so that the +birds could see its fruit and scatter its seeds far and wide. Its +leaves were reduced in size + +<!-- Page 180 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span> +and made permanently green, so that +Kinnikinick, like the pines it loves and helps, could wear green all +the time.</p> + +<p>Whenever I see a place that has been made barren and ugly by the +thoughtlessness of man, I like to think of Kinnikinick, for I know it +will beautify these places if given a chance to do so. There are on +earth millions of acres now almost desert that may some time be +changed and beautified by this cheerful, modest plant. Some time many +bald and barren places in the Rockies will be plumed with pines, +bannered with flowers, have brooks, butterflies, and singing +birds,—all of these, and homes, too, around which children will +play,—because of the reclaiming work which will be done by charming +Kinnikinick.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">The Lodge-Pole Pine</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 183 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span> +<a name="The_Lodge-Pole_Pine" id="The_Lodge-Pole_Pine"></a> +</div> + +<h2>The Lodge-Pole Pine</h2> + +<p>The trappers gave the Lodge-Pole Pine (<i>Pinus contorta</i>, var. +<i>Murrayana</i>) its popular name on account of its general use by Indians +of the West for lodge or wigwam poles. It is a tree with an unusually +interesting life-story, and is worth knowing for the triumphant +struggle which it makes for existence, and also for the commercial +importance which, at an early date, it seems destined to have. Perhaps +its most interesting and advantageous characteristic is its habit of +holding or hoarding its seed-harvests.</p> + +<p>Lodge-pole is also variously called Tamarack, Murray, and Two-leaved +Pine. Its yellow-green needles are in twos, and are from one to three +inches in length. Its cones are about one inch in diameter at the base +and from one to two inches long. Its light-gray or cinnamon-gray bark +is thin and scaly.</p> + +<p>In a typical lodge-pole forest the trees, or poles, stand closely +together and all are of the same age + +<!-- Page 184 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span> +and of even size. Seedlings +and saplings are not seen in an old forest. This forest covers the +mountains for miles, growing in moist, dry, and stony places, claims +all slopes, has an altitudinal range of four thousand feet, and almost +entirely excludes all other species from its borders.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="A_TYPICAL_LODGE-POLE_FOREST" id="A_TYPICAL_LODGE-POLE_FOREST"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p184_lodgepole.jpg" width="600" height="390" alt="A TYPICAL LODGE-POLE FOREST" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A TYPICAL LODGE-POLE FOREST</span> +</div> + +<p>The hoarding habit of this tree, the service rendered it by forest +fires, the lightness of the seeds and the readiness with which they +germinate on dry or burned-over areas, its ability to grow in a +variety of soils and climates, together with its capacity to thrive in +the full glare of the sun,—all these are factors which make this tree +interesting, and which enable it, despite the most dangerous forest +enemy, fire, to increase and multiply and extend its domains.</p> + +<p>During the last fifty years this aggressive, indomitable tree has +enormously extended its area, and John Muir is of the opinion that, +"as fires are multiplied and the mountains become drier, this +wonderful lodge-pole pine bids fair to obtain possession of nearly all +the forest ground in the West." Its geographical range is along the +Rocky Mountains from Alaska to New Mexico, and on the + +<!-- Page 185 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span> +Pacific coast +forests of it are, in places, found from sea-level to an altitude of +eleven thousand feet. On the Rockies it flourishes between the +altitudes of seven thousand and ten thousand feet. It is largely +represented in the forests of Colorado, Utah, Idaho, and Montana, +and it has extensive areas in Oregon and Washington. It is the most +numerous tree in Wyoming, occupying in Yellowstone Park a larger area +than all other trees combined, while in California it forms the bulk +of the alpine forests.</p> + +<p>The lodge-pole readily adapts itself to the most diverse soil and +conditions, but it thrives best where there is considerable moisture. +The roots accommodate themselves to shallow soil, and thrive in it.</p> + +<p>This tree begins to bear fruit at an early age, sometimes when only +eight years old, and usually produces large quantities of cones +annually. The cones sometimes open and liberate the seeds as soon as +they are ripe, but commonly they remain on the tree for years, with +their seeds carefully sealed and protected beneath the scales. So far +as I have observed, the trees on the driest soil cling + +<!-- Page 186 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span> +longest to +their seeds. For an old lodge-pole to have on its limbs twenty crops +of unopened cones is not uncommon. Neither is it uncommon to see an +extensive lodge-pole forest each tree of which has upon it several +hundred, and many of the trees a few thousand, cones, and in each cone +a few mature seeds. Most of these seeds will never have a chance to +make a start in life except they be liberated by fire. In fact, most +lodge-pole seeds are liberated by fire. The reproduction of this pine +is so interwoven with the effects of the forest fires that one may +safely say that most of the lodge-pole forests and the increasing +lodge-pole areas are the result of forest fires.</p> + +<p>Every lodge-pole forest is a fire-trap. The thin, scaly, pitchy bark +and the live resiny needles on the tree, as well as those on the +ground, are very inflammable, and fires probably sweep a lodge-pole +forest more frequently than any other in America. When this forest +is in a sapling stage, it is very likely to be burned to ashes. If, +however, the trees are beyond the sapling stage, the fire probably +will consume the needles, burn some of + +<!-- Page 187 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span> +the bark away, and leave the +tree, together with its numerous seed-filled cones, unconsumed. As a +rule, the fire so heats the cones that most of them open and release +their seeds a few hours, or a few days, after the fire. If the area +burned over is a large one, the fire loosens the clasp of the +cone-scales and millions of lodge-pole seeds are released to be sown +by the great eternal seed-sower, the wind. These seeds are thickly +scattered, and as they germinate readily in the mineral soil, enormous +numbers of them sprout and begin to struggle for existence. I once +counted 84,322 young trees on an acre.</p> + +<p>The trees often stand as thick as wheat in a field and exclude all +other species. Their growth is slow and mostly upright. They early +become delicate miniature poles, and often, at the age of twenty-five +or thirty years, good fishing-poles. In their crowded condition, the +competition is deadly. Hundreds annually perish, but this tree clings +tenaciously to life, and starving it to death is not easy. In the +summer of 1895 I counted 24,271 thirty-year-old lodge-poles upon an +acre. Ten years later, 19,040 of these were alive. It is possible + +<!-- Page 188 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span> +that eighty thousand, or even one hundred thousand, seedlings started +upon this acre. Sometimes more than half a century is required for +the making of good poles.</p> + +<p>On the Grand River in Colorado I once measured a number of poles that +averaged two inches in diameter at the ground and one and one half +inches fifteen feet above it. These poles averaged forty feet high and +were sixty-seven years of age. Others of my notes read: "9728 trees +upon an acre. They were one hundred and three years of age, two to six +inches in diameter, four and a half feet from the ground, and from +thirty to sixty feet high, at an altitude of 8700 feet. Soil and +moisture conditions were excellent. On another acre there were 4126 +trees one hundred and fifty-four years old, together with eleven young +Engelmann spruces and one <i>Pinus flexilis</i> and eight Douglas firs. The +accumulation of duff, mostly needles, averaged eight inches deep, and, +with the exception of one bunch of kinnikinick, there was neither +grass nor weed, and only tiny, thinly scattered sun-gold reached the +brown matted floor."</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 189 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span> +</div> + +<p>After self-thinning has gone on for a hundred years or so, the ranks +have been so thinned that there are openings sufficiently large to +allow other species a chance to come in. By this time, too, there is +sufficient humus on the floor to allow the seeds of many other species +to germinate. Lodge-pole thus colonizes barren places, holds them for +a time, and so changes them that the very species dispossessed by fire +may regain the lost territory. Roughly, the lodge-pole will hold the +ground exclusively from seventy-five to one hundred and fifty years, +then the invading trees will come triumphantly in and, during the next +century and a half, will so increase and multiply that they will +almost exclude the lodge-pole. Thus Engelmann spruce and Douglas fir +are now growing where lodge-pole flourished, but let fire destroy this +forest and lodge-pole will again claim the territory, hold it against +all comers for a century or two, and then slowly give way to or be +displaced by the spruces and firs.</p> + +<p>The interesting characteristic of holding its cones and hoarding seeds +often results in the cones being overgrown and embedded in the trunk + +<!-- Page 190 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> +or the limbs of the trees. As the cones hug closely the trunk or the +limbs, it is not uncommon for the saw, when laying open a log at the +mill, to reveal a number of cones embedded there. I have in my cabin a +sixteen-foot plank that is two inches in diameter and six inches wide, +which came out of a lodge-pole tree. Embedded in this are more than a +score of cones. Probably most of these cones were of the first crop +which the tree produced, for they clung along the trunk of the tree +and grew there when it was about an inch and a quarter in diameter. +The section upon which these cones grew was between fifteen and +twenty-five feet from the ground.</p> + +<p>The seeds of most conifers need vegetable mould, litter, or vegetation +cover of some kind in which to germinate, and then shade for a time in +which to grow. These requirements so needed by other conifer seeds and +seedlings are detrimental to the lodge-pole. If its seeds fall on +areas lightly covered with low huckleberry vines, but few of them will +germinate. A lodge-pole seed that germinates in the shade is doomed. +It must have sunlight or die. In the ashes of a forest fire, in + +<!-- Page 191 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span> +the full glare of the sun, the seeds of the lodge-pole germinate, grow, +and flourish.</p> + +<p>Wind is the chief agency which enables the seeds to migrate. The seeds +are light, and I know of one instance where an isolated tree on a +plateau managed to scatter its seeds by the aid of the wind over a +circular area fifty acres in extent, though a few acres is all that +is reached by the average tree. Sometimes the wind scatters the seeds +unevenly. If most of the seeds are released in one day, and the wind +this day prevails from the same quarter, the seeds will take but one +course from the tree; while changing winds may scatter them quite +evenly all around the tree.</p> + +<p>A camping party built a fire against a lone lodge-pole. The tree was +killed and suffered a loss of its needles from the fire. Four years +later, a long green pennant, tattered at the end and formed of +lodge-pole seedlings, showed on the mountain-side. This pennant began +at the tree and streamed out more than seven hundred feet. Its width +varied from ten to fifty feet.</p> + +<p>The action of a fire in a lodge-pole forest is varied. If the forest +be an old one, even with much rubbish + +<!-- Page 192 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span> +on the ground the heat is not +so intense as in a young growth. Where trees are scattered the flames +crawl from tree to tree, the needles of which ignite like flash-powder +and make beautiful rose-purple flames. At night fires of this kind +furnish rare fireworks. Each tree makes a fountain of flame, after +which, for a moment, every needle shines like incandescent silver, +while exquisite light columns of ashen green smoke float above. The +hottest fire I ever experienced was made by the burning of a +thirty-eight-year lodge-pole forest. In this forest the poles stood +more than thirty feet high, and were about fifteen thousand to an +acre. They stood among masses of fallen trees, the remains of a spruce +forest that had been killed by the same fire which had given this +lodge-pole forest a chance to spring up. Several thousand acres were +burned, and for a brief time the fire traveled swiftly. I saw it roll +blazing over one mountain-side at a speed of more than sixty miles an +hour. It was intensely hot, and in a surprisingly short time the +flames had burned every log, stump, and tree to ashes. Several hundred +acres were swept absolutely bare of trees, living + +<!-- Page 193 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span> +and dead, and the +roots too were burned far into the ground.</p> + +<p>Several beetles prey upon the lodge-pole, and in some localities the +porcupine feeds off its inner bark. It is also made use of by man. The +wood is light, not strong, with a straight, rather coarse grain. It is +of a light yellow to nearly white, or pinkish white, soft, and easily +worked. In the West it is extensively used for lumber, fencing, fuel, +and log houses, and millions of lodge-pole railroad-ties are annually +put to use.</p> + +<p>Most lodge-poles grow in crowded ranks, and slow growth is the result, +but it is naturally a comparatively rapid grower. In good, moist soil, +uncrowded, it rapidly builds upward and outward. I have more than a +score of records that show that it has made a quarter of an inch +diameter growth annually, together with an upright growth of more than +twelve inches, and also several notes which show where trees standing +in favorable conditions have made half an inch diameter growth +annually. This fact of its rapid growth, together with other valuable +characteristics and qualities of the tree, may lead it to be selected +by the government for + +<!-- Page 194 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span> +the reforestation of millions of acres of +denuded areas in the West. In many places on the Rockies it would, if +given a chance, make commercial timber in from thirty to sixty years.</p> + +<p>I examined a lodge-pole in the Medicine Bow Mountains that was scarred +by fire. It was two hundred and fourteen years of age. It took one +hundred and seventy-eight years for it to make five inches of diameter +growth. In the one hundred and seventy-eighth ring of annual growth +there was a fire-scar, and during the next thirty-six years it put on +five more inches of growth. It is probable, therefore, that the fire +destroyed the neighboring trees, which had dwarfed and starved it and +thus held it in check. I know of scores of cases where lodge-poles +grew much more rapidly, though badly fire-scarred, after fires had +removed their hampering competitors.</p> + +<p>There are millions of acres of young lodge-pole forests in the West. +They are almost as impenetrable as canebrakes. It would greatly +increase the rate of growth if these trees were thinned, but it is +probable that this will not be done for many years. Meantime, +if these forests be protected + +<!-- Page 195 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span> +from fire, they will be excellent +water-conservers. When the snows or the rains fall into the lodge-pole +thickets, they are beyond the reach of the extra dry winds. If they +are protected, the water-supply of the West will be protected; and if +they are destroyed, the winds will evaporate most of the precipitation +that falls upon their areas.</p> + +<p>I do not know of any tree that better adjusts itself to circumstances, +or that struggles more bravely or successfully. I am hopeful that +before many years the school-children of America will be well +acquainted with the Lodge-Pole Pine, and I feel that its interesting +ways, its struggles, and its importance will, before long, be +appreciated and win a larger place in our literature and also in our +hearts.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">Rocky Mountain Forests</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 199 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> +<a name="Rocky_Mountain_Forests" id="Rocky_Mountain_Forests"></a> +</div> + +<h2>Rocky Mountain Forests</h2> + +<p>It is stirring to stand at the feet of the Rocky Mountains and look +upward and far away over the broken strata that pile and terrace +higher and higher, until, at a distance of twenty-five or thirty +miles, they stand a shattered and snowy horizon against the blue. The +view is an inspiring one from the base, but it gives no idea that this +mountain array is a magnificent wild hanging-garden. Across the +terraced and verdure-plumed garden the eternal snows send their clear +and constant streams, to leap in white cascades between crowning crags +and pines. Upon the upper slopes of this garden are many mirrored +lakes, ferny, flowery glens, purple forests, and crag-piled meadows.</p> + +<p>If any one were to start at the foothills in Colorado, where one of +the clear streams comes sweeping out of the mountains to go quietly +across the wide, wide plains, and from this starting-place climb to +the crest of this terraced land of + +<!-- Page 200 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> +crags, pines, ferns, and flowers, +he would, in so doing, go through many life-zones and see numerous +standing and moving life-forms, all struggling, yet seemingly all +contented with life and the scenes wherein they live and struggle.</p> + +<p>The broad-leaf cottonwood, which has accompanied the streams across +the plains, stops at the foothills, and along the river in the +foothills the narrow-leaf cottonwood (<i>Populus angustifolia</i>) crowds +the water's edge, here and there mingling with red-fruited hawthorns +and wild plums (<i>Prunus Americana</i>). A short distance from the stream +the sumac stands brilliant in the autumn, and a little farther away +are clumps of greasewood and sagebrush and an occasional spread of +juniper. Here and there are some forlorn-looking red cedars and a +widely scattered sprinkling of stunted yellow pines (<i>Pinus +scopulorum</i>).</p> + +<p>At an altitude of six thousand feet the yellow pine acquires true tree +dignity and begins to mass itself into forests. When seen from a +distance its appearance suggests the oak. It seems a trifle rigid, +appears ready to meet emergencies, has a look of the heroic, and +carries more character than any + +<!-- Page 201 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span> +other tree on the Rockies. Though a +slender and small-limbed tree in youth, after forty or fifty years it +changes slowly and becomes stocky, strong-limbed, and rounded at the +top. Lightning, wind, and snow break or distort its upper limbs so +that most of these veteran pines show a picturesquely broken top, with +a towering dead limb or two among the green ones. Its needles are in +bundles of both twos and threes, and they vary from three to eight +inches in length. The tree is rich in resin, and a walk through its +groves on an autumn day, when the sun shines bright on its clean +golden columns and brings out its aroma, is a walk full of contentment +and charm. The bark is fluted and blackish-gray in youth, and it +breaks up into irregular plates, which on old trees frequently are +five inches or more in thickness. This bark gives the tree excellent +fire-protection.</p> + +<p>The yellow pine is one of the best fire-fighters and lives long. I +have seen many of the pines that were from sixty to ninety feet high, +with a diameter of from three to five feet. They were aged from two +hundred and fifty to six hundred years. Most of the old ones have +lived through several + +<!-- Page 202 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span> +fires. I dissected a fallen veteran that grew +on the St. Vrain watershed, at an altitude of eight thousand feet, +that was eighty-five feet high and fifty-one inches in diameter five +feet from the ground. It showed six hundred and seventy-nine annual +rings. During the first three hundred years of its life it averaged an +inch of diameter growth every ten years. It had been through many +forest fires and showed large fire-scars. One of these it received at +the age of three hundred and thirty-nine years. It carried another +scar which it received two hundred and sixteen years before its death; +another which it received in 1830; and a fourth which it received +fourteen years before it blew over in the autumn of 1892. All of these +fire-scars were on the same quarter of the tree. All were on that part +of the tree which overlooked the down-sloping hillside.</p> + +<p>Forest fires, where there is opportunity, sweep up the mountain-side +against the lower side of the trees. The lower side is thus often +scarred while the opposite side is scarcely injured; but wind blowing +down the gulch at the time of each fire may have directed the flames +against the lower side + +<!-- Page 203 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span> +of this tree. In many places clusters of young +trees were growing close to the lower side of the old trees, and were +enabled to grow there by light that came in from the side. It may be +that the heat from one of the blazing clusters scarred this old pine; +then another young cluster may have grown, to be in time also +consumed. But these scars may have resulted, wholly or in part, from +other causes.</p> + +<p>Yellow pine claims the major portion of the well-drained slopes, +except those that are northerly, in the middle mountain-zone up to +the lower lodge-pole margin. A few groves are found higher than nine +thousand feet. Douglas spruce covers many of the northerly slopes that +lie between six thousand and nine thousand feet.</p> + +<p>The regularity of tree-distribution over the mountains is to me a +never-failing source of interest. Though the various species of trees +appear to be growing almost at random, yet each species shows a +decided preference for peculiar altitude, soil, temperature, and +moisture conditions. It is an interesting demonstration of tree +adaptability to follow a stream which comes out of the west, in + +<!-- Page 204 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span> +the middle mountain-zone, and observe how unlike the trees are which +thrive on opposite sides. On the southerly slopes that come down to +the water is an open forest of yellow pine, and on the opposite side, +the south bank, a dense forest of Douglas spruce. If one be told the +altitude, the slope, and the moisture conditions of a place on the +Rockies, he should, if acquainted with the Rockies, be able to name +the kinds of trees growing there. Some trees grow only in moist +places, others only in dry places, some never below or above a certain +altitude. Indeed, so regular is the tree-distribution over the Rockies +that I feel certain, if I were to awaken from a Rip Van Winkle sleep +in the forests on the middle or upper slopes of these mountains, I +could, after examining a few of the trees around me, tell the points +of the compass, the altitude above sea-level, and the season of the +year.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 355px;"><a name="ASPENS" id="ASPENS"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p204_aspens.jpg" width="355" height="600" alt="ASPENS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ASPENS</span> +</div> + +<p>At an altitude of about sixty-five hundred feet cottonwood, which has +accompanied the streams from the foothills, begins to be displaced by +aspen. The aspen (<i>Populus tremuloides</i>) is found growing in +groups and groves from this altitude up + +<!-- Page 205 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span> +to timber-line, usually in the +moister places. To me the aspen is almost a classic tree, and I have +met it in so many places that I regard it almost as an old friend. It +probably rivals the juniper in being the most widely distributed tree +on the North American continent. It also vies with the lodge-pole pine +in quickness of taking possession of burned-over areas. Let a moist +place be burned over and the aspen will quickly take possession, and +soon establish conditions which will allow conifers to return. This +the conifers do, and in a very short time smother the aspens that made +it possible for them to start in life. The good nursery work of aspens +is restricted pretty closely to damp places.</p> + +<p>Besides being a useful tree, the bare-legged little aspen with its +restless and childlike ways is a tree that it is good to know. When +alone, these little trees seem lonely and sometimes to tremble as +though just a little afraid in this big strange world. But generally +the aspen is not alone. Usually you find a number of little aspens +playing together, with their leaves shaking, jostling, and +jumping,—moving all the time. If you go near a + +<!-- Page 206 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span> +group and stop to +watch them, they may, for an instant, pause to glance at you, then +turn to romp more merrily than before. And they have other childlike +ways besides bare legs and activity. On some summer day, if you wish +to find these little trees, look for them where you would for your own +child,—wading the muddiest place to be found. They like to play in +the swamps, and may often be seen in a line alongside a brook with +toes in the water, as though looking for the deepest place before +wading in.</p> + +<p>One day I came across a party of merry little aspens who were in a +circle around a grand old pine, as though using the pine for a maypole +to dance around. It was in autumn, and each little aspen wore its +gayest colors. Some were in gowns of new-made cloth-of-gold. The +grizzled old pine, like an old man in the autumn of his life, looked +down as though honored and pleased with the happy little ones who +seemed so full of joy. I watched them for a time and went on across +the mountains; but I have long believed in fairies, so the next day I +went back to see this fairyland and found the dear little aspens still +shaking their + +<!-- Page 207 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span> +golden leaves, while the old pine stood still in the +sunlight.</p> + +<p>Along the streams, between the altitudes of sixty-five hundred and +eighty-five hundred feet, one finds the Colorado blue or silver +spruce. This tree grows in twos or threes, occasionally forming a +small grove. Usually it is found growing near a river or brook, +standing closely to a golden-lichened crag, in surroundings which +emphasize its beauty of form and color. With its fluffy silver-tipped +robe and its garlands of cones it is the handsomest tree on the +Rockies. It is the queen of these wild gardens. Beginning at the +altitude where the silver spruce ceases is the beautiful balsam fir +(<i>Abies lasiocarpa</i>). The balsam fir is generally found in company +with the alders or the silver spruce near a brook. It is strikingly +symmetrical and often forms a perfect slender cone. The balsam fir and +the silver spruce are the evergreen poems of the wild. They get into +one's heart like the hollyhock. Several years ago the school-children +of Colorado selected by vote a State flower and a State tree. Although +more than fifty flowers received votes, two thirds of + +<!-- Page 208 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span> +all the votes +went to the Rocky Mountain columbine. When it came to selecting a +tree, every vote was cast for the silver spruce.</p> + +<p>Edwinia, with its attractive waxy white flowers, and potentilla, with +bloom of gold, are shrubs which lend a charm to much of the +mountain-section. Black birch and alder trim many of the streams, +and the mountain maple is thinly scattered from the foothills to nine +thousand feet altitude. Wild roses are frequently found near the +maple, and gooseberry bushes fringe many a brook. Huckleberries +flourish on the timbered slopes, and kinnikinick gladdens many a +gravelly stretch or slope.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="A_GROVE_OF_SILVER_SPRUCE" id="A_GROVE_OF_SILVER_SPRUCE"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p208_spruce.jpg" width="600" height="400" alt="A GROVE OF SILVER SPRUCE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A GROVE OF SILVER SPRUCE</span> +</div> + +<p>Between the altitudes of eight thousand and ten thousand feet there +are extensive forests of the indomitable lodge-pole pine. This borders +even more extensive forests of Engelmann spruce. Lodge-pole touches +timber-line in a few places, and Engelmann spruce climbs up to it in +every cañon or moist depression. Along with these, at timber-line, are +<i>flexilis</i> pine, balsam fir, arctic willow, dwarf black birch, and the +restless little aspen. All timber-line trees are dwarfed and most of + +<!-- Page 209 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span> +them distorted. Conditions at timber-line are severe, but the +presence, in places, of young trees farthest up the slopes suggests +that these severe conditions may be developing hardier trees than any +that now are growing on this forest frontier. If this be true, then +timber-line on the Rockies is yet to gain a higher limit.</p> + +<p>Since the day of "Pike's Peak or bust," fires have swept over more +than half of the primeval forest area in Colorado. Some years ago, +while making special efforts to prevent forest fires from starting, I +endeavored to find out the cause of these fires. I regretfully found +that most of them were the result of carelessness, and I also made a +note to the effect that there are few worse things to be guilty of +than carelessly setting fire to a forest. Most of these forest fires +had their origin from camp-fires which the departing campers had left +unextinguished. There were sixteen fires in one summer, which I +attributed to the following causes: campers, nine; cigar, one; +lightning, one; locomotive, one; stockmen, two; sheep-herders, one; +and sawmill, one.</p> + +<p>Fires have made the Rocky Mountains still more + +<!-- Page 210 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span> +rocky. In many places +the fires burn their way to solid rock. In other places the humus, or +vegetable mould, is partly consumed by fire, and the remainder is in a +short time blown away by wind or washed away by water. Fires often +leave only blackened granite rock behind, so that in many places they +have not only consumed the forests, but also the food upon which the +new forests might have fed. Many areas where splendid forests grew, +after being fire-swept, show only barren granite. As some of the +granite on the Rockies disintegrates slowly, it will probably require +several hundred years for Nature to resoil and reforest some of these +fire-scarred places. However, upon thousands of acres of the Rockies +millions of young trees are just beginning to grow, and if these trees +be protected from fire, a forest will early result.</p> + +<p>I never see a little tree bursting from the earth, peeping confidently +up among the withered leaves, without wondering how long it will live +or what trials or triumphs it will have. I always hope that it will +find life worth living, and that it will live long to better and to +beautify the earth. I hope it + +<!-- Page 211 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span> +will love the blue sky and the white +clouds passing by. I trust it will welcome all seasons and ever join +merrily in the music, the motion, and the movement of the elemental +dance with the winds. I hope it will live with rapture in the +flower-opening days of spring and also enjoy the quiet summer rain. +I hope it will be a home for the birds and hear their low, sweet +mating-songs. I trust that when comes the golden peace of autumn days, +it will be ready with fruited boughs for the life to come. I never +fail to hope that if this tree is cut down, it may be used for a +flagpole to keep our glorious banner in the blue above, or that it may +be built into a cottage where love will abide; or if it must be burnt, +that it will blaze on the hearthstone in a home where children play in +the firelight on the floor.</p> + +<p>In many places the Rockies rise more than three thousand feet above +the heights where live the highest struggling trees at timber-line, +but these steep alpine slopes are not bare. The rocks are tinted with +lichens. In places are miles of grassy slopes and miniature meadows, +covered with coarse sedges and bright tender flowers. Among the + +<!-- Page 212 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> +shrubs the <i>Betula glandulosa</i> is probably commonest, while <i>Dasiphora +fruticosa</i> and <i>Salix chlorophylla</i> are next in prominence. Here and +there you will see the golden gaillardia, the silver and blue +columbines, splendid arrays of sedum, many marsh-marigolds, lungworts, +paint-brushes of red and white and yellow green, beds of purple +primroses, sprinklings of alpine gentians, many clusters of +live-forever, bunches of honey-smelling valerian, with here and there +standing the tall stalks of fraseria, or monument-plant. There are +hundreds of other varieties of plants, and the region above +timber-line holds many treasures that are dear to those who love +flowers and who appreciate them especially where cold and snow keep +them tiny.</p> + +<p>Above timber-line are many bright blossoms that are familiar to us, +but dwarfed to small size. One needs to get down and lie upon the +ground and search carefully with a magnifying-glass, or he will +overlook many of these brave bright but tiny flowers. Here are blue +gentians less than half an inch in height, bell-flowers only a trifle +higher, and alpine willows so tiny that their catkins + +<!-- Page 213 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> +touch the +ground. One of the most attractive and beautiful of these alpine +flowers is the blue honeysuckle or polemonium, about an inch in +height. I have found it on mountain-tops, in its fresh, clear +coloring, at an altitude of fourteen thousand feet, as serene as the +sky above it.</p> + +<p>A climb up the Rockies will develop a love for nature, strengthen +one's appreciation of the beautiful world outdoors, and put one in +tune with the Infinite. It will inspire one with the feeling that the +Rockies have a rare mountain wealth of their own. They are not to be +compared with the Selkirks or the Alps or any other unlike range of +mountains. The Rockies are not a type, but an individuality, +singularly rich in mountain scenes which stir one's blood and which +strengthen and sweeten life.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">Besieged by Bears</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 217 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span> +<a name="Besieged_by_Bears" id="Besieged_by_Bears"></a> +</div> + +<h2>Besieged by Bears</h2> + +<p>Two old prospectors, Sullivan and Jason, once took me in for the +night, and after supper they related a number of interesting +experiences. Among these tales was one of the best bear-stories I have +ever heard. The story was told in the graphic, earnest, realistic +style so often possessed by those who have lived strong, stirring +lives among crags and pines. Although twenty years had gone by, these +prospectors still had a vivid recollection of that lively night when +they were besieged by three bears, and in recounting the experience +they mingled many good word-pictures of bear behavior with their +exciting and amusing story. "This happened to us," said Sullivan, "in +spite of the fact that we were minding our own business and had never +hunted bears."</p> + +<p>The siege occurred at their log cabin during the spring of 1884. They +were prospecting in Geneva Park, where they had been all winter, +driving a tunnel. They were so nearly out of supplies + +<!-- Page 218 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span> +that they could +not wait for snowdrifts to melt out of the trail. Provisions must be +had, and Sullivan thought that, by allowing twice the usual time, he +could make his way down through the drifts and get back to the cabin +with them. So one morning, after telling Jason that he would be back +the next evening, he took their burro and set off down the mountain. +On the way home next day Sullivan had much difficulty in getting the +loaded burro through the snowdrifts, and when within a mile of the +cabin, they stuck fast. Sullivan unpacked and rolled the burro out of +the snow, and was busily repacking, when the animal's uneasiness made +him look round.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="OURAY_COLORADO" id="OURAY_COLORADO"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p218_ouray.jpg" width="600" height="340" alt="OURAY, COLORADO: A typical mining town" title="" /> +<span class="caption">OURAY, COLORADO<br /> +A typical mining town</span> +</div> + +<p>In the edge of the woods, only a short distance away, were three +bears, apparently a mother and her two well-grown children. They were +sniffing the air eagerly and appeared somewhat excited. The old bear +would rise on her hind paws, sniff the air, then drop back to the +ground. She kept her nose pointed toward Sullivan, but did not appear +to look at him. The smaller bears moved restlessly about; they +would walk a few steps in advance, stand erect, draw their fore paws to +close + +<!-- Page 219 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> +their breasts, and sniff, sniff, sniff the air, upward and +in all directions before them. Then they would slowly back up to the +old bear. They all seemed very good-natured.</p> + +<p>When Sullivan was unpacking the burro, the wrapping had come off two +hams which were among the supplies, and the wind had carried the +delicious aroma to the bears, who were just out of their winter dens +after weeks of fasting. Of course, sugar-cured hams smelled good to +them. Sullivan repacked the burro and went on. The bears quietly eyed +him for some distance. At a turn in the trail he looked back and saw +the bears clawing and smelling the snow on which the provisions had +lain while he was getting the burro out of the snowdrift. He went on +to the cabin, had supper, and forgot the bears.</p> + +<p>The log cabin in which he and Jason lived was a small one; it had a +door in the side and a small window in one end. The roof was made of +a layer of poles thickly covered with earth. A large shepherd-dog often +shared the cabin with the prospectors. He was a playful fellow, and +Sullivan often romped with him. Near their cabin were some + +<!-- Page 220 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span> +vacant cabins of other prospectors, who had "gone out for the winter" and +were not yet back for summer prospecting.</p> + +<p>The evening was mild, and as soon as supper was over Sullivan filled +his pipe, opened the door, and sat down on the edge of the bed for a +smoke, while Jason washed the dishes. He had taken only a few pulls at +his pipe when there was a rattling at the window. Thinking the dog was +outside, Sullivan called, "Why don't you go round to the door?" This +invitation was followed by a momentary silence, then smash! a piece of +sash and fragments of window-glass flew past Sullivan and rattled on +the floor. He jumped to his feet. In the dim candle-light he saw a +bear's head coming in through the window. He threw his pipe of burning +tobacco into the bear's face and eyes, and then grabbed for some steel +drills which lay in the corner on the floor. The earth roof had +leaked, and the drills were ice-covered and frozen fast to the floor.</p> + +<p>While Sullivan was dislodging the drills, Jason began to bombard the +bear vigorously with plates from the table. The bear backed out; she +was looking + +<!-- Page 221 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> +for food, not clean plates. However, the instant she was +outside, she accepted Sullivan's invitation and went round to the +door! And she came for it with a rush! Both Sullivan and Jason jumped +to close the door. They were not quick enough, and instead of one bear +there were three! The entire family had accepted the invitation, and +all were trying to come in at once!</p> + +<p>When Sullivan and Jason threw their weight against the door it slammed +against the big bear's nose,—a very sensitive spot. She gave a savage +growl. Apparently she blamed the two other bears either for hurting +her nose or for being in the way. At any rate, a row started; halfway +in the door the bears began to fight; for a few seconds it seemed as +if all the bears would roll inside. Sullivan and Jason pushed against +the door with all their might, trying to close it. During the struggle +the bears rolled outside and the door went shut with a bang. The heavy +securing cross-bar was quickly put into place; but not a moment too +soon, for an instant later the old bear gave a furious growl and flung +herself against the door, making it fairly crack; it seemed as if + +<!-- Page 222 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> +the door would be broken in. Sullivan and Jason hurriedly knocked their +slab bed to pieces and used the slats and heavy sides to prop and +strengthen the door. The bears kept surging and clawing at the door, +and while the prospectors were spiking the braces against it and +giving their entire attention to it, they suddenly felt the cabin +shake and heard the logs strain and give. They started back, to see +the big bear struggling in the window. Only the smallness of the +window had prevented the bear from getting in unnoticed, and +surprising them while they were bracing the door. The window was so +small that the bear in trying to get in had almost wedged fast. With +hind paws on the ground, fore paws on the window-sill, and shoulders +against the log over the window, the big bear was in a position to +exert all her enormous strength. Her efforts to get in sprung the logs +and gave the cabin the shake which warned.</p> + +<p>Sullivan grabbed one of the steel drills and dealt the bear a terrible +blow on the head. She gave a growl of mingled pain and fury as she +freed herself from the window. Outside she backed off growling.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 223 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span> +</div> + +<p>For a little while things were calmer. Sullivan and Jason, drills in +hand, stood guard at the window. After some snarling in front of the +window the bears went round to the door. They clawed the door a few +times and then began to dig under it. "They are tunneling in for us," +said Sullivan. "They want those hams; but they won't get them."</p> + +<p>After a time the bears quit digging and started away, occasionally +stopping to look hesitatingly back. It was almost eleven o'clock, and +the full moon shone splendidly through the pines. The prospectors +hoped that the bears were gone for good. There was an old rifle in +the cabin, but there were no cartridges, for Sullivan and Jason never +hunted and rarely had occasion to fire a gun. But, fearing that the +animals might return, Sullivan concluded to go to one of the vacant +cabins for a loaded Winchester which he knew to be there.</p> + +<p>As soon as the bears disappeared, he crawled out of the window and +looked cautiously around; then he made a run for the vacant cabin. +The bears heard him running, and when he had nearly reached + +<!-- Page 224 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span> +the cabin, +they came round the corner of it to see what was the matter. He was up +a pine tree in an instant. After a few growls the bears moved off and +disappeared behind a vacant cabin. As they had gone behind the cabin +which contained the loaded gun, Sullivan thought it would be dangerous +to try to make the cabin, for if the door should be swelled fast, the +bears would surely get him. Waiting until he thought it safe to +return, he dropped to the ground and made a dash for his own cabin. +The bears heard him and again gave chase, with the evident intention +of getting even for all their annoyances. It was only a short distance +to his cabin, but the bears were at his heels when he dived in through +the broken window.</p> + +<p>A bundle of old newspapers was then set on fire and thrown among the +bears, to scare them away. There was some snarling, until one of the +young bears with a stroke of a fore paw scattered the blazing papers +in all directions; then the bears walked round the cabin-corner out +of sight and remained quiet for several minutes.</p> + +<p>Just as Jason was saying, "I hope they are gone + +<!-- Page 225 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span> +for good," there came +a thump on the roof which told the prospectors that the bears were +still intent on the hams. The bears began to claw the earth off the +roof. If they were allowed to continue, they would soon clear off the +earth and would then have a chance to tear out the poles. With a few +poles torn out, the bears would tumble into the cabin, or perhaps +their combined weight might cause the roof to give way and drop them +into the cabin. Something had to be done to stop their clawing and if +possible get them off the roof. Bundles of hay were taken out of the +bed mattress. From time to time Sullivan would set fire to one of +these bundles, lean far out through the window, and throw the blazing +hay upon the roof among the bears. So long as he kept these fireworks +going, the bears did not dig; but they stayed on the roof and became +furiously angry. The supply of hay did not last long, and as soon as +the annoyance from the bundles of fire ceased, the bears attacked the +roof again with renewed vigor.</p> + +<p>Then it was decided to prod the bears with red-hot drills thrust up +between the poles of the roof. + +<!-- Page 226 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> +As there was no firewood in the cabin, +and as fuel was necessary in order to heat the drills, a part of the +floor was torn up for that purpose.</p> + +<p>The young bears soon found hot drills too warm for them and scrambled +or fell off the roof. But the old one persisted. In a little while she +had clawed off a large patch of earth and was tearing the poles with +her teeth.</p> + +<p>The hams had been hung up on the wall in the end of the cabin; the old +bear was tearing just above them. Jason threw the hams on the floor +and wanted to throw them out of the window. He thought that the bears +would leave contented if they had them. Sullivan thought differently; +he said that it would take six hams apiece to satisfy the bears, and +that two hams would be only a taste which would make the bears more +reckless than ever. The hams stayed in the cabin.</p> + +<p>The old bear had torn some of the poles in two and was madly tearing +and biting at others. Sullivan was short and so were the drills. To +get within easier reach, he placed the table almost under the gnawing +bear, sprang upon it, and called + +<!-- Page 227 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> +to Jason for a red-hot drill. Jason +was about to hand him one when he noticed a small bear climbing in at +the window, and, taking the drill with him, he sprang over to beat +the bear back. Sullivan jumped down to the fire for a drill, and in +climbing back on the table he looked up at the gnawed hole and +received a shower of dirt in his face and eyes. This made him flinch +and he lost his balance and upset the table. He quickly straightened +the table and sprang upon it, drill in hand. The old bear had a paw +and arm thrust down through the hole between the poles. With a blind +stroke she struck the drill and flung it and Sullivan from the table. +He shouted to Jason for help, but Jason, with both young bears trying +to get in at the window at once, was striking right and left. He had +bears and troubles of his own and did not heed Sullivan's call. The +old bear thrust her head down through the hole and seemed about to +fall in, when Sullivan in desperation grabbed both hams and threw them +out of the window.</p> + +<p>The young bears at once set up a row over the hams, and the old bear, +hearing the fight, jumped + +<!-- Page 228 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span> +off the roof and soon had a ham in her +mouth.</p> + +<p>While the bears were fighting and eating, Sullivan and Jason tore up +the remainder of the floor and barricaded the window. With both door +and window closed, they could give their attention to the roof. All +the drills were heated, and both stood ready to make it hot for the +bears when they should again climb on the roof. But the bears did not +return to the roof. After eating the last morsel of the hams they +walked round to the cabin door, scratched it gently, and then became +quiet. They had lain down by the door.</p> + +<p>It was two o'clock in the morning. The inside of the cabin was in +utter confusion. The floor was strewn with wreckage; bedding, drills, +broken boards, broken plates, and hay were scattered about. Sullivan +gazed at the chaos and remarked that it looked like poor housekeeping. +But he was tired, and, asking Jason to keep watch for a while, he lay +down on the blankets and was soon asleep.</p> + +<p>Toward daylight the bears got up and walked a few times round the +cabin. On each round they clawed + +<!-- Page 229 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span> +at the door, as though to tell +Sullivan that they were there, ready for his hospitality. They whined +a little, half good-naturedly, but no one admitted them, and finally, +just before sunrise, they took their departure and went leisurely +smelling their way down the trail.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">Mountain Parks and Camp-Fires</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 233 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span> +<a name="Mountain_Parks_and_Camp-Fires" id="Mountain_Parks_and_Camp-Fires"></a> +</div> + +<h2>Mountain Parks and Camp-Fires</h2> + +<p>The Rockies of Colorado cross the State from north to south in two +ranges that are roughly parallel and from thirty to one hundred miles +apart. There are a number of secondary ranges in the State that are +just as marked, as high, and as interesting as the main ranges, and +that are in every way comparable with them except in area. The bases +of most of these ranges are from ten to sixty miles across. The +lowlands from which these mountains rise are from five to six thousand +feet above sea-level, and the mountain-summits are from eleven +thousand to thirteen thousand feet above the tides. In the entire +mountain area of the State there are more than fifty peaks that are +upward of fourteen thousand feet in height. Some of these mountains +are rounded, undulating, or table-topped, but for the most part the +higher slopes and culminating summits are broken + +<!-- Page 234 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> +and angular. +Altogether, the Rocky Mountain area in Colorado presents a delightful +diversity of parks, peaks, forests, lakes, streams, cañons, slopes, +crags, and glades.</p> + +<p>On all of the higher summits are records of the ice age. In many +places glaciated rocks still retain the polish given them by the Ice +King. Such rocks, as well as gigantic moraines in an excellent state +of preservation, extend from altitudes of twelve or thirteen thousand +feet down to eight thousand, and in places as low as seven thousand +feet. Some of the moraines are but enormous embankments a few hundred +feet high and a mile or so in length. Many of these are so raw, bold, +and bare, they look as if they had been completed or uncovered within +the last year. Most of these moraines, however, especially those below +timber-line, are well forested. No one knows just how old they are, +but, geologically speaking, they are new, and in all probability were +made during the last great ice epoch, or since that time. Among the +impressive records of the ages that are carried by these mountains, +those made by the Ice King probably stand + +<!-- Page 235 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span> +first in appealing +strangely and strongly to the imagination.</p> + +<p>All the Rocky Mountain lakes are glacier lakes. There are more than a +thousand of these. The basins of the majority of them were excavated +by ice from solid rock. Only a few of them have more than forty acres +of area, and, with the exception of a very small number, they are +situated well up on the shoulders of the mountains and between the +altitudes of eleven thousand and twelve thousand feet. The lower and +middle slopes of the Rockies are without lakes.</p> + +<p>The lower third of the mountains, that is, the foothill section, is +only tree-dotted. But the middle portion, that part which lies between +the altitudes of eight thousand and eleven thousand feet, is covered +by a heavy forest in which lodge-pole pine, Engelmann spruce, and +Douglas spruce predominate. Fire has made ruinous inroads into the +primeval forest which grew here.</p> + +<p>A large portion of the summit-slopes of the mountains is made up of +almost barren rock, in old moraines, glaciated slopes, or broken +crags, granite predominating. These rocks are well tinted + +<!-- Page 236 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span> +with lichen, but they present a barren appearance. In places above the +altitude of eleven thousand feet the mountains are covered with a +profuse array of alpine vegetation. This is especially true of the +wet meadows or soil-covered sections that are continually watered by +melting snows.</p> + +<p>In the neighborhood of a snowdrift, at an altitude of twelve thousand +feet, I one day gathered in a small area one hundred and forty-two +varieties of plants. Areas of "eternal snows," though numerous, are +small, and with few exceptions, above twelve thousand feet. Here and +there above timber-line are many small areas of moorland, which, both +in appearance and in vegetation, seem to belong in the tundras of +Siberia.</p> + +<p>While these mountains carry nearly one hundred varieties of trees and +shrubs, the more abundant kinds of trees number less than a score. +These are scattered over the mountains between the altitudes of six +thousand and twelve thousand feet, while, charming and enlivening the +entire mountain-section, are more than a thousand varieties of wild +flowers.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 237 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> +</div> + +<p>Bird-life is abundant on the Rockies. No State east of the Mississippi +can show as great a variety as Colorado. Many species of birds well +known in the East are found there, though, generally, they are in some +way slightly modified. Most Rocky Mountain birds sound their notes a +trifle more loudly than their Eastern relatives. Some of them are a +little larger, and many of them have their colors slightly +intensified.</p> + +<p>Many of the larger animals thrive on the slopes of the Rockies. Deer +are frequently seen. Bobcats, mountain lions, and foxes leave many +records. In September bears find the choke-cherry bushes and, standing +on their hind legs, feed eagerly on the cherries, leaves, and +good-sized sections of the twigs. The ground-hog apparently manages to +live well, for he seems always fat. There is that wise little fellow +the coyote. He probably knows more than he is given credit for +knowing, and I am glad to say for him that I believe he does man more +good than harm. He is a great destroyer of meadow mice. He digs out +gophers. Sometimes his meal is made upon rabbits or grasshoppers, and +I have seen him feeding upon wild plums.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 238 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span> +</div> + +<p>There are hundreds of ruins of the beaver's engineering works. +Countless dams and fillings he has made. On the upper St. Vrain he +still maintains his picturesque rustic home. Most of the present +beaver homes are in high, secluded places, some of them at an altitude +of eleven thousand feet. In midsummer, near most beaver homes one +finds columbines, fringed blue gentians, orchids, and lupines +blooming, while many of the ponds are green and yellow with +pond-lilies.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;"><a name="ESTES_PARK" id="ESTES_PARK"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p238_estes.jpg" width="460" height="600" alt="ESTES PARK AND THE BIG THOMPSON RIVER FROM THE TOP OF +MT. OLYMPUS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ESTES PARK AND THE BIG THOMPSON RIVER FROM THE TOP OF +MT. OLYMPUS</span> +</div> + +<p>During years of rambling I have visited and enjoyed all the celebrated +parks of the Rockies, but one, which shall be nameless, is to me the +loveliest of them all. The first view of it never fails to arouse the +dullest traveler. From the entrance one looks down upon an irregular +depression, several miles in length, a small undulating and beautiful +mountain valley, framed in peaks with purple forested sides and +bristling snowy grandeur. This valley is delightfully open, and +has a picturesque sprinkling of pines over it, together with a few +well-placed cliffs and crags. Its swift, clear, and winding brooks are +fringed with + +<!-- Page 239 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> +birch and willow. A river crosses it with many a slow +and splendid fold of silver.</p> + +<p>Not only is the park enchanting from the distance, but every one of +its lakes and meadows, forests and wild gardens, has a charm and a +grandeur of its own. There are lakes of many kinds. One named for the +painter, now dead, who many times sketched and dreamed on its shores, +is a beautiful ellipse; and its entire edge carries a purple shadow +matting of the crowding forest. Its placid surface reflects peak and +snow, cloud and sky, and mingling with these are the green and gold of +pond-lily glory. Another lake is stowed away in an utterly wild place. +It is in a rent between three granite peaks. Three thousand feet of +precipice bristle above it. Its shores are strewn with wreckage from +the cliffs and crags above, and this is here and there cemented +together with winter's drifted snow. Miniature icebergs float upon its +surface. Around it are mossy spaces, beds of sedge, and scattered +alpine flowers, which soften a little the fierce aspect of this +impressive scene.</p> + +<p>On the western margin of the park is a third lake. + +<!-- Page 240 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> +This lake and its +surroundings are of the highest alpine order. Snow-line and tree-line +are just above it. Several broken and snowy peaks look down into it, +and splendid spruces spire about its shores. Down to it from the +heights and snows above come waters leaping in white glory. It is the +centre of a scene of wild grandeur that stirs in one strange depths of +elemental feeling and wonderment. Up between the domes of one of the +mountains is Gem Lake. It is only a little crystal pool set in ruddy +granite with a few evergreens adorning its rocky shore. So far as I +know, it is the smallest area of water in the world that bears the +name of lake; and it is also one of the rarest gems of the lakelet +world.</p> + +<p>The tree-distribution is most pleasing, and the groves and forests are +a delight. Aged Western yellow pines are sprinkled over the open areas +of the park. They have genuine character, marked individuality. Stocky +and strong-limbed, their golden-brown bark broken into deep fissures +and plateaus, scarred with storm and fire, they make one think and +dream more than any other tree on the Rockies. By the brooks the clean +and childlike + +<!-- Page 241 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span> +aspens mingle with the willow and the alder or the +handsome silver spruce. Some slopes are spread with the green fleece +of massed young lodge-pole pines, and here and there are groves of +Douglas spruce, far from their better home "where rolls the Oregon." +The splendid and spiry Engelmann spruces climb the stern slopes eleven +thousand feet above the ocean, where weird timber-line with its +dwarfed and distorted trees shows the incessant line of battle between +the woods and the weather.</p> + +<p>Every season nearly one thousand varieties of beautiful wild flowers +come to perfume the air and open their "bannered bosoms to the sun." +Many of these are of brightest color. They crowd the streams, wave on +the hills, shine in the woodland vistas, and color the snow-edge. +Daisies, orchids, tiger lilies, fringed gentians, wild red roses, +mariposas, Rocky Mountain columbines, harebells, and forget-me-nots +adorn every space and nook.</p> + +<p>While only a few birds stay in the park the year round, there are +scores of summer visitors who come here to bring up the babies, and +to enliven + +<!-- Page 242 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span> +the air with song. Eagles soar the blue, and ptarmigan, +pipits, and sparrows live on the alpine moorlands. Thrushes fill the +forest aisles with melody, and by the brooks the ever-joyful +water-ouzel mingles its music with the song of ever-hurrying, +ever-flowing waters. Among the many common birds are owls, +meadowlarks, robins, wrens, magpies, bluebirds, chickadees, +nuthatches, and several members of the useful woodpecker family, +together with the white-throated sparrow and the willow thrush.</p> + +<p>Speckled and rainbow trout dart in the streams. Mountain sheep climb +and pose on the crags; bear, deer, and mountain lions are still +occasionally seen prowling the woods or hurrying across the meadows. +The wise coyote is also seen darting under cover, and is frequently +heard during the night. Here among the evergreens is found that small +and audacious bit of intensely interesting and animated life, the +Douglas squirrel, and also one of the dearest of all small animals, +the merry chipmunk. Along the brooks are a few small beaver colonies, +a straggling remnant of a once numerous population. It is to be hoped +that + +<!-- Page 243 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span> +this picturesque and useful race will be allowed to extend its +domain.</p> + +<p>The park has also a glacier, a small but genuine chip of the old +block, the Ice King. The glacier is well worth visiting, especially +late in summer, when the winter mantle is gone from its crevasses, +leaving revealed its blue-green ice and its many grottoes. It is every +inch a glacier. There are other small glaciers above the Park, but +these glacial remnants, though interesting, are not as imposing as the +glacial records, the old works which were deposited by the Ice King. +The many kinds of moraines here display his former occupation and +activities. There are glaciated walls, polished surfaces, eroded +basins, and numerous lateral moraines. One of the moraines is probably +the largest and certainly one of the most interesting in the Rockies. +It occupies about ten square miles on the eastern slope of the +mountain. Above timber-line this and other moraines seem surprisingly +fresh and new, as though they had been formed only a few years, but +below tree-line they are forested, and the accumulation of humus upon +them shows that they have long been bearers of trees.</p> + +<div> +<!-- Page 244 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span> +</div> + +<p>The rugged Peak looks down over all this wild garden, and is a +perpetual challenge to those who go up to the sky on mountains. It is +a grand old granite peak. There are not many mountains that require +more effort from the climber, and few indeed can reward him with such +a far-spreading and magnificent view.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 430px;"><a name="IN_THE_UNCOMPAHGRE_MOUNTAINS" id="IN_THE_UNCOMPAHGRE_MOUNTAINS"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p244_uncompahgre.jpg" width="430" height="600" alt="IN THE UNCOMPAHGRE MOUNTAINS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">IN THE UNCOMPAHGRE MOUNTAINS</span> +</div> + +<p>One of the most interesting and impressive localities in the Rockies +lies around Mt. Wetterhorn, Mt. Coxcomb, and Uncompahgre Peak. Here I +have found the birds confiding, and most wild animals so tame that it +was a joy to be with them. But this was years ago, and now most of the +wild animals are wilder and the birds have found that man will not +bear acquaintance. Most of this region was recently embraced in the +Uncompahgre National Forest. It has much for the scientist and +nature-lover: the mountain-climber will find peaks to conquer and +cañons to explore; the geologist will find many valuable stone +manuscripts; the forester who interviews the trees will have from +their tongues a story worth while; and here, too, are some of Nature's +best pictures for those who revel only in the lovely and the wild. It + +<!-- Page 245 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span> +is a strikingly picturesque by-world, where there are many +illuminated and splendid fragments of Nature's story. He who visits +this section will first be attracted by an array of rock-formations, +and, wander where he will, grotesque and beautiful shapes in stone +will frequently attract and interest his attention.</p> + +<p>The rock-formation is made up of mixtures of very unequally tempered +rock metal, which weathers in strange, weird, and impressive shapes. +Much of this statuary is gigantic and uncouth, but some of it is +beautiful. There are minarets, monoliths, domes, spires, and shapeless +fragments. In places there are, seemingly, restive forms not entirely +free from earth. Most of these figures are found upon the crests of +the mountains, and many of the mountain-ridges, with their numerous +spikes and gigantic monoliths, some of which are tilted perilously +from the perpendicular, give one a feeling of awe. Some of the +monoliths appear like broken, knotty tree-trunks. Others stand +straight and suggest the Egyptian obelisks. They hold rude natural +hieroglyphics in relief. One mountain, which is known as Turret-Top, +is crowned with + +<!-- Page 246 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span> +what from a distance seems to be a gigantic +picket-fence. This fence is formed by a row of monolithic stones.</p> + +<p>One of the most remarkable things connected with this strange locality +is that its impressive landscapes may be overturned or blotted out, or +new scenes may be brought forth, in a day. The mountains do not stand +a storm well. A hard rain will dissolve ridges, lay bare new strata, +undermine and overturn cliffs. It seems almost a land of enchantment, +where old landmarks may disappear in a single storm, or an impressive +landscape come forth in a night. Here the god of erosion works +incessantly and rapidly, dissecting the earth and the rocks. During +a single storm a hilltop may dissolve, a mountain-side be fluted with +slides, a grove be overturned and swept away by an avalanche, or a +lake be buried forever. This rapid erosion of slopes and summits +causes many changes and much upbuilding upon their bases. Gulches are +filled, water-courses invaded, rivers bent far to one side, and groves +slowly buried alive.</p> + +<p>One night, while I was in camp on the slope of + +<!-- Page 247 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span> +Mt. Coxcomb, a +prolonged drought was broken by a very heavy rain. Within an hour +after the rain started, a large crag near the top of the peak fell and +came crashing and rumbling down the slope. During the next two hours +I counted the rumbling crash of forty others. I know not how many small +avalanches may have slipped during this time that I did not hear. The +next day I went about looking at the new landscapes and the strata +laid bare by erosion and landslide, and up near the top of this peak +I found a large glaciated lava boulder. A lava boulder that has been +shaped by the ice and has for a time found a resting-place in a +sedentary formation, then been uplifted to near a mountain-top, has a +wonder-story of its own. One day I came across a member of the United +States Geological Survey who had lost his way. At my camp-fire that +evening I asked him to hug facts and tell me a possible story of the +glaciated lava boulder. The following is his account:—</p> + +<p>The shaping of that boulder must have antedated by ages the shaping of +the Sphinx, and its story, if acceptably told, would seem more like +fancy + +<!-- Page 248 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span> +than fact. If the boulder were to relate, briefly, its +experiences, it might say: "I helped burn forests and strange cities +as I came red-hot from a volcano's throat, and I was scarcely cool +when disintegration brought flowers to cover my dead form. By and by a +long, long winter came, and toward the close of it I was sheared off, +ground, pushed, rolled, and rounded beneath the ice. 'Why are you +grinding me up?' I asked the glacier. 'To make food for the trees and +the flowers during the earth's next temperate epoch,' it answered. One +day a river swept me out of its delta and I rolled to the bottom of +the sea. Here I lay for I know not how long, with sand and boulders +piling upon me. Here heat, weight, and water fixed me in a stratum +of materials that had accumulated below and above me. My stratum was +displaced before it was thoroughly solidified, and I felt myself +slowly raised until I could look out over the surface of the sea. The +waves at once began to wear me, and they jumped up and tore at me +until I was lifted above their reach. At last, when I was many +thousand feet above the waves, I came to a standstill. Then my + +<!-- Page 249 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span> +mountain-top was much higher than at present. For a long time I looked +down upon a tropical world. I am now wondering if the Ice King will +come for me again."</p> + +<p>The Engelmann spruce forest here is an exceptionally fine one, and the +geologist and I discussed it and trees in general. Some of the Indian +tribes of the Rockies have traditions of a "Big Fire" about four +centuries ago. There is some evidence of a general fire over the +Rockies about the time that the Indian's tradition places it, but in +this forest there were no indications that there had ever been a fire. +Trees were in all stages of growth and decay. Humus was deep. Here I +found a stump of a Douglas spruce that was eleven feet high and about +nine feet in diameter. It was so decayed that I could not decipher the +rings of growth. This tree probably required at least a thousand years +to reach maturity, and many years must have elapsed for its wood to +come to the present state of decay. Over this stump was spread the +limbs of a live tree that was four hundred years of age.</p> + +<p>Trees have tongues, and in this forest I interviewed + +<!-- Page 250 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span> +many patriarchs, +had stories from saplings, examined the mouldy, musty records of many +a family tree, and dug up some buried history. The geologist wanted in +story form a synopsis of what the records said and what the trees told +me, so I gave him this account:—</p> + +<p>"We climbed in here some time after the retreat of the last Ice King +and found aspen and lodge-pole pine in possession. These trees fought +us for several generations, but we finally drove them out. For ages +the Engelmann spruce family has had undisputed possession of this +slope. We stand amid three generations of mouldering ancestors, and +beneath these is the sacred mould of older generations still.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a name="A_GRASS-PLOT" id="A_GRASS-PLOT"></a><br /> +<img src="images/p250_grassplot.jpg" width="400" height="600" alt="A GRASS-PLOT AMONG ENGELMANN SPRUCE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A GRASS-PLOT AMONG ENGELMANN SPRUCE</span> +</div> + +<p>"One spring, when most of the present grown-up trees were very young, +the robins, as they flew north, were heard talking of strange men who +were exploring the West Indies. A few years later came the big fire +over the Rockies, which for months choked the sky with smoke. Fire did +not get into our gulch, but from birds and bears which crowded into it +we learned that straggling trees and a few groves on the Rockies were +all that had escaped + +<!-- Page 251 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span> +with their lives. Since we had been spared, we +all sent out our seed for tree-colonies as rapidly as we could, and in +so doing we received much help from the birds, the squirrels, and the +bears, so that it was not long before we again had our plumes waving +everywhere over the Rockies. About a hundred and sixty years ago, an +earthquake shook many of us down and wounded thousands of others with +the rock bombardment from the cliffs. The drought a century ago was +hard on us, and many perished for water. Not long after the drought we +began to see the trappers, but they never did us any harm. Most of +them were as careful of our temples as were the Indians. While the +trappers still roamed, there came a very snowy winter, and snow-slides +mowed us down by thousands. Many of us were long buried beneath the +snow. The old trees became dreadfully alarmed, and they feared that +the Ice King was returning. For weeks they talked of nothing else, but +in the spring, when the mountain-sides began to warm and peel off in +earth-avalanches, we had a real danger to discuss.</p> + +<p>"Shortly after the snowy winter, the gold-seekers + +<!-- Page 252 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span> +came with their +fire havoc. For fifty years we have done our best to hold our ground, +but beyond our gulch relentless fire and flashing steel, together with +the floods with which outraged Nature seeks to revenge herself, have +slain the grand majority, and much, even, of the precious dust of our +ancestors has been washed away."</p> + +<p>With the exception of the night I had the geologist, my days and +nights in this locality were spent entirely alone. The blaze of the +camp-fire, moonlight, the music and movement of the winds, light and +shade, and the eloquence of silence all impressed me more deeply here +than anywhere else I have ever been. Every day there was a delightful +play of light and shade, and this was especially effective on the +summits; the ever-changing light upon the serrated mountain-crests +kept constantly altering their tone and outline. Black and white they +stood in midday glare, but a new grandeur was born when these tattered +crags appeared above storm-clouds. Fleeting glimpses of the crests +through a surging storm arouse strange feelings, and one is at bay, +as though having + +<!-- Page 253 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> +just awakened amid the vast and vague on another +planet. But when the long, white evening light streams from the west +between the minarets, and the black buttressed crags wear the alpine +glow, one's feelings are too deep for words.</p> + +<p>The wind sometimes flowed like a torrent across the ridges, surging +and ripping between the minarets, then bearing down like an avalanche +upon the purple sylvan ocean, where it tossed the trees with boom, +roar, and wild commotion. I usually camped where it showed the most +enthusiasm. Here I often enjoyed the songs or the fierce activities +of the wind. The absence and the presence of wind ever stirred me +strongly. Weird and strange are the feelings that flow as the winds +sweep and sound through the trees. The Storm King has a bugle at his +lips, and a deep, elemental hymn is sung while the blast surges wild +through the pines. Mother Nature is quietly singing, singing soft and +low while the breezes pause and play in the pines. From the past one +has been ever coming, with the future destined ever to go when, with +centuries of worshipful silence, one waits for the winds in the pines. +Ever the good old world grows + +<!-- Page 254 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span> +better both with songs and with silence +in the pines.</p> + +<p>Here the energy and eloquence of silence was at its best. That +all-pervading presence called silence has its happy home within the +forest. Silence sounds rhythmic to all, and attunes all minds to the +strange message, the rhapsody of the universe. Silence is almost as +kind to mortals as its sweet sister sleep.</p> + +<p>A primeval spruce forest crowds all the mountain-slopes of the +Uncompahgre region from an altitude of eight thousand feet to +timber-line. So dense is this forest that only straggling bits of +sun-fire ever fall to the ground. Beneath these spiry, crowding trees +one has only "the twilight of the forest noon." This forest, when seen +from near-by mountain-tops, seems to be a great ragged, purple robe +hanging in folds from the snow-fields, while down through it the white +streams rush. A few crags pierce it, sun-filled grass-plots dot its +expanse at intervals, and here and there it is rent with a vertical +avalanche lane.</p> + +<p>Many a happy journey and delightful climb I have had in the mountains +all alone by moonlight, + +<!-- Page 255 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span> +and in the Uncompahgre district I had many a +moonlight ramble. I know what it is to be alone on high peaks with the +moon, and I have felt the spell that holds the lonely wanderer when, +on a still night, he feels the wistful, tender touch of the summer +air, while the leaves whisper and listen in the moonlight, and the +moon-toned etchings of the pines fall upon the magic forest floor.</p> + +<p>One of the best moonlit times that I have had in this region was +during my last visit to it. One October night I camped in a grass-plot +in the depths of a spruce forest. The white moon rose grandly from +behind the minareted mountain, hesitated for a moment among the +tree-spires, then tranquilly floated up into space. It was a still +night. There was silence in the treetops. The river near by faintly +murmured in repose. Everything was at rest. The grass-plot was full +of romantic light, and on its eastern margin was an etching of spiry +spruce. A dead and broken tree on the edge of the grass-plot looked +like a weird prowler just out of the woods, and seemed half-inclined +to come out into the light and speak to me. All was still. The moonlit +mist clung fantastically + +<!-- Page 256 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span> +to the mossy festoons of the fir trees. +I was miles from the nearest human soul, and as I stood in the +enchanting scene, amid the beautiful mellow light, I seemed to have +been wafted back into the legend-weaving age. The silence was softly +invaded by zephyrs whispering in the treetops, and a few moonlit +clouds that showed shadow centre-boards came lazily drifting along the +bases of the minarets, as though they were looking for some place in +particular, although in no hurry to find it. Heavier cloud-flotillas +followed, and these floated on the forest sea, touching the treetops +with the gentleness of a lover's hand. I lay down by my camp-fire to +let my fancy frolic, and fairest dreams came on.</p> + +<p>It was while camping once on the slope of Mt. Coxcomb that I felt most +strongly the spell of the camp-fire. I wish every one could have a +night by a camp-fire,—by Mother Nature's old hearthstone. When one +sits in the forest within the camp-fire's magic tent of light, amid +the silent, sculptured trees, there go thrilling through one's blood +all the trials and triumphs of our race. The blazing wood, the ragged +and changing flame, the storms and + +<!-- Page 257 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> +calms, the mingling smoke and +blaze, the shadow-figures that dance against the trees, the scenes and +figures in the fire,—with these, though all are new and strange, yet +you feel at home once more in the woods. A camp-fire in the forest is +the most enchanting place on life's highway by which to have a lodging +for the night.</p> + +<h2 class="hidden">Index</h2> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<!-- Page 261 --> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span> +<a name="Index" id="Index"></a> +</div> + +<div class="navlink"> +<a href="#CONTENTS">Return to Table of Contents</a> +</div> + +<h2>Index</h2> + +<ul><li class="newletter">Alma, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry"><i>Arctostaphylos Uva-Ursi</i>. <i>See</i> <a href="#KINNIKINICK_INDEX">Kinnikinick</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Aspen, <a href="#Page_204">204-206</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Bears, vapor from a bear, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">a bear and her cubs, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">prospectors besieged by, <a href="#Page_217">217-229</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">feeding on choke-cherries, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Beaver, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">usefulness of, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">cutting trees, <a href="#Page_54">54-56</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">young, <a href="#Page_56">56-58</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">houses of, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">granary of, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">tools of, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">dam-building, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">growth of a dam, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">the dam a highway, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">influence of dams on stream-flow, <a href="#Page_61">61-64</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">dams catching and holding soil, <a href="#Page_64">64-67</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">value of, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Birds, Rocky Mountain, abundance of, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">various species of, <a href="#Page_152">152-159</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">song of, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">a pet quail, <a href="#Page_160">160-167</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">of a mountain park, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Boulder, a lava, <a href="#Page_247">247-249</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Cabin, a night in a deserted, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Camp-fires, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">the spell of the camp-fire, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Camping outfit, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Carpenter, Prof. L. G., <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Chambers Lake, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Chickadee, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Chipmunk, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Columbine, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Cottonwood, broad-leaf, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Cottonwood, narrow-leaf, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Coyotes, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">Scotch and the, <a href="#Page_133">133-138</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">usefulness of, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Crested Butte, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Crow, <a href="#Page_156">156-158</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Deer, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Dog, the story of a collie, <a href="#Page_131">131-147</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">a St. Bernard and a pet quail, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164-167</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Edwinia, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Electrical phenomena, in winter, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">before the Poudre flood, <a href="#Page_83">83-95</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Fir, balsam (<i>Abies lasiocarpa</i>), <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Fir, Douglas. <i>See</i> <a href="#DOUGLAS_SPRUCE_INDEX">Spruce, Douglas</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Fires, forest, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">and the lodge-pole pine, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">causes of, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">effects of, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">Indian tradition of a "Big Fire," <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Flowers, above timber-line, <a href="#Page_211">211-213</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">of a mountain park, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Forestry, an address on, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Gem Lake, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Geneva Park, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Geologist, a night with a, <a href="#Page_247">247-252</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Girl, climbing Long's Peak with an eight-year-old, <a href="#Page_99">99-111</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Glaciation, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Glaciers, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Grand Ditch Camp, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Grand Lake, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Ground-hog, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Grouse, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Hague's Peak, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Hoosier Pass, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li> + +<!-- Page 262 --> + +<li class="entry">Horses, return, <a href="#Page_115">115-118</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">Midget, <a href="#Page_119">119-128</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Hotel, ejected from a, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Ice, fine arts of, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter"><a name="KINNIKINICK_INDEX" id="KINNIKINICK_INDEX"></a> +Kinnikinick, a plant pioneer, <a href="#Page_171">171-175</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">its nursery for trees, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">growth of, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">flowers and fruit of, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">as a bed, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">a legend of, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">reclaiming work of, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Lakes, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Lead Mountain, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Leadville, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Lion, mountain, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">an epicure, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">tracked by a, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Long's Peak, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">a climb up, with a little girl, <a href="#Page_99">99-111</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">summit of, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">Scotch and the young lady on, <a href="#Page_138">138-141</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">a winter climb with Scotch, <a href="#Page_142">142-147</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">birds on summit of, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Loveland, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Mammals, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Medicine Bow National Forest, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Medicine-men, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Mesa Verde, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Moonlight, the mountains by, <a href="#Page_254">254-256</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Mt. Coxcomb, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">camping on the slope of, <a href="#Page_246">246-254</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Mt. Lincoln, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Mt. Richthofen, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Mt. Silverheels, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Mt. Wetterhorn, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Ouzel, water, <a href="#Page_100">100-102</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Park, a Rocky Mountain, <a href="#Page_238">238-244</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Pine, nursed by kinnikinick, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Pine, lodge-pole, its names, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">description of, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">its habit of growth, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">its aggressive character, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">distribution of, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">its method of dispersing its seeds, <a href="#Page_185">185-187</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">growth of, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">as a colonist and pioneer, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">cones embedded in, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">sunlight necessary to, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">fire in a forest of, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">enemies of, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">uses of, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">value of, <a href="#Page_193">193-195</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Pine, Western yellow, a thousand-year-old, <a href="#Page_31">31-50</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">habits of the, <a href="#Page_200">200-204</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">character of the, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry"><i>Pinus flexilis</i>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Plants, of the summit-slopes, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Potentilla, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Poudre Lakes, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Poudre Valley, flood in, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Ptarmigan, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Quail, a pet, <a href="#Page_161">161-167</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Rabbit, snowshoe, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Rex, a St. Bernard dog, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164-167</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Rock, easily eroded, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Rock-formations, grotesque and beautiful, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Rocky Mountains, individuality of, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">character of, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Schoolhouse, a mountain, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Sheep, mountain, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">a flock of, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Silence, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Snow, tracks in, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Snow-cornice, breaking through a, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Snow-fall, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Snow-slides, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">an adventure with a snow-slide, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Snowstorm, a, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Solitaire, <a href="#Page_153">153-155</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Specimen Mountain, electrical phenomena on, <a href="#Page_88">88-92</a>.</li> + +<!-- Page 263 --> + +<li class="entry">Spruce, Colorado blue or silver, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry"><a name="DOUGLAS_SPRUCE_INDEX" id="DOUGLAS_SPRUCE_INDEX"></a> +Spruce, Douglas, or Douglas fir, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">a large stump, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Spruce, Engelmann, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">the story of a forest of, <a href="#Page_250">250-252</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Squirrel, Douglas, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">as a nurseryman, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">and the old pine, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">character of, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>;</li> +<li class="subentry">cutting off and storing cones, <a href="#Page_102">102-104</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Thrush, Audubon's hermit, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Timber-line, <a href="#Page_104">104-107</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Trap Creek, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Trees, of the Rocky Mountains, <a href="#Page_199">199-211</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>. +<i>See also individual species</i>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Turret-Top, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Uncompahgre National Forest, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Uncompahgre Peak, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Uncompahgre region, wonders of the, <a href="#Page_244">244-256</a>.</li> + +<li class="newletter">Wind, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Wolves, an adventure with, <a href="#Page_71">71-75</a>.</li> + +<li class="entry">Woodpecker, Texas, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>.</li> + +</ul> + +<div class="navlink"> +<a href="#CONTENTS">Return to Table of Contents</a> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<p class="center">The Riverside Press</p> + +<p class="center">CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS</p> + +<p class="center">U . S . A</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div class="tnote"> + +<h3>Transcriber's Note</h3> + +<p>Variant and inconsistent spellings in the original text have been +retained in this ebook (for instance: kodak, cosy, halfway and +half-way; kinnikinick and Kinnikinick).</p> + +<p>Some illustrations have been moved from their original locations to +paragraph breaks, so as to be nearer to their corresponding text, or +for ease of document navigation.</p> + +<p>Duplicate chapter titles have been removed in the text version and +hidden in the HTML version of this ebook.</p> + +<p>The following typographical corrections have been made to this text:</p> + +<p><span style="padding-left: 1.5em">Page xi: Changed 64 to 63, to account for illustration repositioning</span></p> +<p><span style="padding-left: 1.5em">Page 27: Changed spendid to splendid (calm and splendid forest)</span></p> +<p><span style="padding-left: 1.5em">Page 202: Changed eight to eighty (eighty-five feet high)</span></p> + +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Wild Life on the Rockies, by Enos A. 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diff --git a/28562-h/images/p250_grassplot.jpg b/28562-h/images/p250_grassplot.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bfaee42 --- /dev/null +++ b/28562-h/images/p250_grassplot.jpg diff --git a/28562-h/images/toutbien.png b/28562-h/images/toutbien.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a1d531 --- /dev/null +++ b/28562-h/images/toutbien.png diff --git a/28562-h/images/wild_life_cover.jpg b/28562-h/images/wild_life_cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fb382fc --- /dev/null +++ b/28562-h/images/wild_life_cover.jpg diff --git a/28562.txt b/28562.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..087f951 --- /dev/null +++ b/28562.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4917 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wild Life on the Rockies, by Enos A. Mills + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Wild Life on the Rockies + +Author: Enos A. Mills + +Release Date: April 12, 2009 [EBook #28562] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILD LIFE ON THE ROCKIES *** + + + + +Produced by Geetu Melwani, C. St. Charleskindt and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file made using scans of public domain works at the +University of Georgia.) + + + + + + + + + +Wild Life on the Rockies + + + + +[Illustration: LONG'S PEAK FROM THE EAST] + + + + +Wild Life on the Rockies + +By + +Enos A. Mills + +With Illustrations from Photographs + + + + +[Illustration: Publisher's Device] + + + + +Boston and New York + +Houghton Mifflin Company + +The Riverside Press Cambridge + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY ENOS A. MILLS + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +_Published March 1909_ + + + + +To + +John Muir + + + + +PREFACE + + +This book contains the record of a few of the many happy days and +novel experiences which I have had in the wilds. For more than twenty +years it has been my good fortune to live most of the time with +nature, on the mountains of the West. I have made scores of long +exploring rambles over the mountains in every season of the year, +a nature-lover charmed with the birds and the trees. On my later +excursions I have gone alone and without firearms. During three +succeeding winters, in which I was a Government Experiment Officer +and called the "State Snow Observer," I scaled many of the higher +peaks of the Rockies and made many studies on the upper slopes of +these mountains. + +"Colorado Snow Observer" was printed in part in _The Youth's +Companion_ for May 18, 1905, under the title of "In the Mountain +Snows"; "The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine" appeared in _The World's +Work_ for August, 1908; and "The Beaver and his Works" is reprinted +from _The World To-Day_ for December, 1908. + +E. A. M. + + + + +Contents + + + Colorado Snow Observer 1 + + The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine 29 + + The Beaver and his Works 51 + + The Wilds without Firearms 69 + + A Watcher on the Heights 81 + + Climbing Long's Peak 97 + + Midget, the Return Horse 113 + + Faithful Scotch 129 + + Bob and Some Other Birds 149 + + Kinnikinick 169 + + The Lodge-Pole Pine 181 + + Rocky Mountain Forests 197 + + Besieged by Bears 215 + + Mountain Parks and Camp-Fires 231 + + Index 259 + + + + +Illustrations + + + _Long's Peak from the East_ _Frontispiece_ + + _A Man with a History_ 6 + + _The Crest of the Continent in Winter, + 13,000 Feet above Sea-Level_ 16 + + _A Snow-Slide Track_ 20 + + _A Veteran Western Yellow Pine_ 32 + + _A Beaver-House_ 58 + + _A Beaver-Dam in Winter_ 63 + + _Lake Odessa_ 76 + + _On the Heights_ 84 + + _A Storm on the Rockies_ 94 + + _Long's Peak from the Summit of Mt. Meeker_ 100 + + _On the Tip-Top of Long's Peak_ 110 + + _A Miner on a Return Horse_ 116 + + _Scotch near Timber-Line_ 132 + + _The Cloud-Capped Continental Divide_ 144 + + _Ptarmigan_ 158 + + _Summer at an Altitude of 12,000 Feet_ 178 + + _A Typical Lodge-Pole Forest_ 184 + + _Aspens_ 204 + + _A Grove of Silver Spruce_ 208 + + _Ouray, Colorado, a Typical Mining Town_ 218 + + _Estes Park and the Big Thompson River from + the Top of Mt. Olympus_ 238 + + _In the Uncompahgre Mountains_ 244 + + _A Grass-Plot among Engelmann Spruce_ 250 + + + + +Colorado Snow Observer + + +"Where are you going?" was the question asked me one snowy winter day. +After hearing that I was off on a camping-trip, to be gone several +days, and that the place where I intended to camp was in deep snow on +the upper slopes of the Rockies, the questioners laughed heartily. +Knowing me, some questioners realized that I was in earnest, and all +that they could say in the nature of argument or appeal was said to +cause me to "forego the folly." But I went, and in the romance of a +new world--on the Rockies in winter--I lived intensely through ten +strong days and nights, and gave to my life new and rare experiences. +Afterwards I made other winter excursions, all of which were stirring +and satisfactory. The recollection of these winter experiences is as +complete and exhilarating as any in the vista of my memory. + +Some years after my first winter camping-trip, I found myself +holding a strange position,--that of the "State Snow Observer of +Colorado." I have never heard of another position like it. Professor +L. G. Carpenter, the celebrated irrigation engineer, was making some +original investigations concerning forests and the water-supply. He +persuaded me to take the position, and under his direction I worked +as a government experiment officer. For three successive winters I +traversed the upper slopes of the Rockies and explored the crest of +the continent, alone. While on this work, I was instructed to make +notes on "those things that are likely to be of interest or value +to the Department of Agriculture or the Weather Bureau,"--and to be +careful not to lose my life. + +On these winter trips I carried with me a camera, thermometer, +barometer, compass, notebook, and folding axe. The food carried +usually was only raisins. I left all bedding behind. Notwithstanding +I was alone and in the wilds, I did not carry any kind of a gun. + +The work made it necessary for me to ramble the wintry heights in +sunshine and storm. Often I was out, or rather up, in a blizzard, and +on more than one occasion I was out for two weeks on the snow-drifted +crest of the continent, without seeing any one. I went beyond the +trails and visited the silent places alone. I invaded gulches, eagerly +walked the splendid forest aisles, wandered in the dazzling glare on +dreary alpine moorlands, and scaled the peaks over mantles of ice and +snow. I had many experiences,--amusing, dangerous, and exciting. There +was abundance of life and fun in the work. On many an evening darkness +captured me and compelled me to spend the night in the wilds without +bedding, and often without food. During these nights I kept a +camp-fire blazing until daylight released me. When the night was mild, +I managed to sleep a little,--in installments,--rising from time to +time to give wood to the eager fire. Sometimes a scarcity of wood kept +me busy gathering it all night; and sometimes the night was so cold +that I did not risk going to sleep. During these nights I watched my +flaming fountain of fire brighten, fade, surge, and change, or shower +its spray of sparks upon the surrounding snow-flowers. Strange +reveries I have had by these winter camp-fires. On a few occasions +mountain lions interrupted my thoughts with their piercing, lonely +cries; and more than once a reverie was pleasantly changed by the +whisper of a chickadee in some near-by tree as a cold comrade snuggled +up to it. Even during the worst of nights, when I thought of my lot at +all. I considered it better than that of those who were sick in houses +or asleep in the stuffy, deadly air of the slums. + + "Believe me, 'tis something to be cast + Face to face with thine own self at last." + +[Illustration: A MAN WITH A HISTORY] + +Not all nights were spent outdoors. Many a royal evening was passed in +the cabin of a miner or a prospector, or by the fireside of a family +who for some reason had left the old home behind and sought seclusion +in wild scenes, miles from neighbors. Among Colorado's mountains there +are an unusual number of strong characters who are trying again. They +are strong because broken plans, lost fortunes, or shattered health +elsewhere have not ended their efforts or changed their ideals. Many +are trying to restore health, some are trying again to prosper, others +are just making a start in life, but there are a few who, far from +the madding crowd, are living happily the simple life. Sincerity, +hope, and repose enrich the lives of those who live among the crags +and pines of mountain fastnesses. Many a happy evening I have had with +a family, or an old prospector, who gave me interesting scraps of +autobiography along with a lodging for the night. + +The snow-fall on the mountains of Colorado is very unevenly +distributed, and is scattered through seven months of the year. Two +places only a few miles apart, and separated by a mountain-range, may +have very different climates, and one of these may have twice as much +snow-fall as the other. On the middle of the upper slopes of the +mountains the snow sometimes falls during seven months of the year. +At an altitude of eleven thousand feet the annual fall amounts to +eighteen feet. This is several times the amount that falls at an +altitude of six thousand feet. In a locality near Crested Butte the +annual fall is thirty feet, and during snowy winters even fifty feet. +Most winter days are clear, and the climate less severe than is +usually imagined. + +One winter I walked on snowshoes on the upper slopes of the "snowy" +range of the Rockies, from the Wyoming line on the north to near the +New Mexico line on the south. This was a long walk, and it was full of +amusement and adventure. I walked most of the way on the crest of the +continent. The broken nature of the surface gave me ups and downs. +Sometimes I would descend to the level of seven thousand feet, and +occasionally I climbed some peak that was fourteen thousand feet above +the tides. + +I had not been out many days on this trip when I was caught in a storm +on the heights above tree-line. I at once started downward for the +woods. The way among the crags and precipices was slippery; the wind +threatened every moment to hurl me over a cliff; the wind-blown snow +filled the air so that I could see only a few feet, and at times not +at all. But it was too cold to stop. For two hours I fought my way +downward through the storm, and so dark was it during the last +half-hour that I literally felt my way with my staff. Once in the +woods, I took off a snowshoe, dug a large hole in the snow down to +the earth, built a fire, and soon forgot the perilous descent. After +eating from my supply of raisins, I dozed a little, and woke to find +all calm and the moon shining in glory on a snowy mountain-world of +peaks and pines. I put on my snowshoes, climbed upward beneath the +moon, and from the summit of Lead Mountain, thirteen thousand feet +high, saw the sun rise in splendor on a world of white. + +The tracks and records in the snow which I read in passing made +something of a daily newspaper for me. They told much of news of the +wilds. Sometimes I read of the games that the snowshoe rabbit had +played; of a starving time among the brave mountain sheep on the +heights; of the quiet content in the ptarmigan neighborhood; of the +dinner that the pines had given the grouse; of the amusements and +exercises on the deer's stamping-ground; of the cunning of foxes; of +the visits of magpies, the excursions of lynxes, and the red records +of mountain lions. + +The mountain lion is something of a game-hog and an epicure. He +prefers warm blood for every meal, and is very wasteful. I have much +evidence against him; his worst one-day record that I have shows five +tragedies. In this time he killed a mountain sheep, a fawn, a grouse, +a rabbit, and a porcupine; and as if this were not enough, he was +about to kill another sheep when a dark object on snowshoes shot down +the slope near by and disturbed him. The instances where he has +attacked human beings are rare, but he will watch and follow one for +hours with the utmost caution and curiosity. One morning after a +night-journey through the wood, I turned back and doubled my trail. +After going a short distance I came to the track of a lion alongside +my own. I went back several miles and read the lion's movements. He +had watched me closely. At every place where I rested he had crept up +close, and at the place where I had sat down against a stump he had +crept up to the opposite side of the stump,--and I fear while I dozed! + +One night during this expedition I had lodging in an old and isolated +prospector's cabin, with two young men who had very long hair. For +months they had been in seclusion, "gathering wonderful herbs," +hunting out prescriptions for every human ill, and waiting for their +hair to grow long. I hope they prepared some helpful, or at least +harmless prescriptions, for, ere this, they have become picturesque, +and I fear prosperous, medicine-men on some populous street-corner. +One day I had dinner on the summit of Mt. Lincoln, fourteen thousand +feet above the ocean. I ate with some miners who were digging out +their fortune; and was "the only caller in five months." + +But I was not always a welcome guest. At one of the big mining-camps +I stopped for mail and to rest for a day or so. I was all "rags and +tags," and had several broken strata of geology and charcoal on my +face in addition. Before I had got well into the town, from all +quarters came dogs, each of which seemed determined to make it +necessary for me to buy some clothes. As I had already determined to +do this, I kept the dogs at bay for a time, and then sought refuge in +a first-class hotel; from this the porter, stimulated by an excited +order from the clerk, promptly and literally kicked me out! + +In the robings of winter how different the mountains than when +dressed in the bloom of summer! In no place did the change seem more +marked than on some terrace over which summer flung the lacy drapery +of a white cascade, or where a wild waterfall "leapt in glory." These +places in winter were glorified with the fine arts of ice,--"frozen +music," as some one has defined architecture,--for here winter had +constructed from water a wondrous array of columns, panels, filigree, +fretwork, relief-work, arches, giant icicles, and stalagmites as large +as, and in ways resembling, a big tree with a fluted full-length +mantle of ice. + +Along the way were extensive areas covered with the ruins of +fire-killed trees. Most of the forest fires which had caused these +were the result of carelessness. The timber destroyed by these fires +had been needed by thousands of home-builders. The robes of beauty +which they had burned from the mountain-sides are a serious loss. +These fire ruins preyed upon me, and I resolved to do something to +save the remaining forests. The opportunity came shortly after the +resolution was made. + +Two days before reaching the objective point, farthest south, my food +gave out, and I fasted. But as soon as I reached the end, I started +to descend the heights, and very naturally knocked at the door of the +first house I came to, and asked for something to eat. I supposed I +was at a pioneer's cabin. A handsome, neatly dressed young lady came +to the door, and when her eyes fell upon me she blushed and then +turned pale. I was sorry that my appearance had alarmed her, but I +repeated my request for something to eat. Just then, through the +half-open door behind the young lady, came the laughter of children, +and a glance into the room told me that I was before a mountain +schoolhouse. By this time the teacher, to whom I was talking, startled +me by inviting me in. As I sat eating a luncheon to which the teacher +and each one of the six school-children contributed, the teacher +explained to me that she was recently from the East, and that I so +well fitted her ideas of a Western desperado that she was frightened +at first. When I finished eating, I made my first after-dinner speech; +it was also my first attempt to make a forestry address. One point I +tried to bring out was concerning the destruction wrought by forest +fires. Among other things I said: "During the past few years in +Colorado, forest fires, which ought never to have been started, have +destroyed many million dollars' worth of timber, and the area +over which the fires have burned aggregates twenty-five thousand +square miles. This area of forest would put on the equator an +evergreen-forest belt one mile wide that would reach entirely around +the world. Along with this forest have perished many of the animals +and thousands of beautiful birds who had homes in it." + +I finally bade all good-bye, went on my way rejoicing, and in due +course arrived at Denver, where a record of one of my longest winter +excursions was written. + +In order to give an idea of one of my briefer winter walks, I close +this chapter with an account of a round-trip snowshoe journey from +Estes Park to Grand Lake, the most thrilling and adventurous that has +ever entertained me on the trail. + +One February morning I set off alone on snowshoes to cross the +"range," for the purpose of making some snow-measurements. The nature +of my work for the State required the closest observation of the +character and extent of the snow in the mountains. I hoped to get to +Grand Lake for the night, but I was on the east side of the range, and +Grand Lake was on the west. Along the twenty-five miles of trail there +was only wilderness, without a single house. The trail was steep and +the snow very soft. Five hours were spent in gaining timber-line, +which was only six miles from my starting-place, but four thousand +feet above it. Rising in bold grandeur above me was the summit of +Long's Peak, and this, with the great hills of drifted snow, out of +which here and there a dwarfed and distorted tree thrust its top, made +timber-line seem weird and lonely. + +From this point the trail wound for six miles across bleak heights +before it came down to timber on the other side of the range. I set +forward as rapidly as possible, for the northern sky looked stormy. +I must not only climb up fifteen hundred feet, but must also skirt +the icy edges of several precipices in order to gain the summit. My +friends had warned me that the trip was a foolhardy one even on a +clear, calm day, but I was fated to receive the fury of a snowstorm +while on the most broken portion of the trail. + +The tempest came on with deadly cold and almost blinding violence. The +wind came with awful surges, and roared and boomed among the crags. +The clouds dashed and seethed along the surface, shutting out all +landmarks. I was every moment in fear of slipping or being blown over +a precipice, but there was no shelter; I was on the roof of the +continent, twelve thousand five hundred feet above sea-level, and to +stop in the bitter cold meant death. + +[Illustration: THE CREST OF THE CONTINENT IN WINTER, 13,000 FEET +ABOVE SEA-LEVEL] + +It was still three miles to timber on the west slope, and I found it +impossible to keep the trail. Fearing to perish if I tried to follow +even the general course of the trail, I abandoned it altogether, and +started for the head of a gorge, down which I thought it would be +possible to climb to the nearest timber. Nothing definite could be +seen. The clouds on the snowy surface and the light electrified air +gave the eye only optical illusions. The outline of every object was +topsy-turvy and dim. The large stones that I thought to step on +were not there; and, when apparently passing others, I bumped into +them. Several times I fell headlong by stepping out for a drift and +finding a depression. + +In the midst of these illusions I walked out on a snow-cornice that +overhung a precipice! Unable to see clearly, I had no realization of +my danger until I felt the snow giving way beneath me. I had seen the +precipice in summer, and knew it was more than a thousand feet to the +bottom! Down I tumbled, carrying a large fragment of the snow-cornice +with me. I could see nothing, and I was entirely helpless. Then, just +as the full comprehension of the awful thing that was happening swept +over me, the snow falling beneath me suddenly stopped. I plunged into +it, completely burying myself. Then I, too, no longer moved downward; +my mind gradually admitted the knowledge that my body, together with +a considerable mass of the snow, had fallen upon a narrow ledge and +caught there. More of the snow came tumbling after me, and it was a +matter of some minutes before I succeeded in extricating myself. + +When I thrust my head out of the snow-mass and looked about me, I was +first appalled by a glance outward, which revealed the terrible height +of the precipice on the face of which I was hanging. Then I was +relieved by a glance upward, which showed me that I was only some +twenty feet from the top, and that a return thither would not be very +difficult. But if I had walked from the top a few feet farther back, +I should have fallen a quarter of a mile. + +One of my snowshoes came off as I struggled out, so I took off the +other shoe and used it as a scoop to uncover the lost web. But it +proved very slow and dangerous work. With both shoes off I sank +chest-deep in the snow; if I ventured too near the edge of the ledge, +the snow would probably slip off and carry me to the bottom of the +precipice. It was only after two hours of effort that the shoe was +recovered. + +When I first struggled to the surface of the snow on the ledge, I +looked at once to find a way back to the top of the precipice. I +quickly saw that by following the ledge a few yards beneath the +unbroken snow-cornice I could climb to the top over some jagged +rocks. As soon as I had recovered the shoe, I started round the ledge. +When I had almost reached the jagged rocks, the snow-cornice caved +upon me, and not only buried me, but came perilously near knocking me +into the depths beneath. But at last I stood upon the top in safety. + +A short walk from the top brought me out upon a high hill of snow that +sloped steeply down into the woods. The snow was soft, and I sat down +in it and slid "a blue streak"--my blue overalls recording the +streak--for a quarter of a mile, and then came to a sudden and +confusing stop; one of my webs had caught on a spine of one of the +dwarfed and almost buried trees at timber-line. + +When I had traveled a short distance below timber-line, a fearful +crashing caused me to turn; I was in time to see fragments of snow +flying in all directions, and snow-dust boiling up in a great geyser +column. A snow-slide had swept down and struck a granite cliff. As I +stood there, another slide started on the heights above timber, and +with a far-off roar swept down in awful magnificence, with a +comet-like tail of snow-dust. Just at timber-line it struck a ledge +and glanced to one side, and at the same time shot up into the air so +high that for an instant I saw the treetops beneath it. But it came +back to earth with awful force, and I felt the ground tremble as it +crushed a wide way through the woods. It finally brought up at the +bottom of a gulch with a wreckage of hundreds of noble spruce trees +that it had crushed down and swept before it. + +As I had left the trail on the heights, I was now far from it and in a +rugged and wholly unfrequented section, so that coming upon the fresh +tracks of a mountain lion did not surprise me. But I was not prepared +for what occurred soon afterward. Noticing a steamy vapor rising from +a hole in the snow by the protruding roots of an overturned tree, I +walked to the hole to learn the cause of it. One whiff of the vapor +stiffened my hair and limbered my legs. I shot down a steep slope, +dodging trees and rocks. The vapor was rank with the odor from a bear. + +[Illustration: A SNOW-SLIDE TRACK] + +At the bottom of the slope I found the frozen surface of a stream +much easier walking than the soft snow. All went well until I came to +some rapids, where, with no warning whatever, the thin ice dropped me +into the cold current among the boulders. I scrambled to my feet, with +the ice flying like broken glass. The water came only a little above +my knees, but as I had gone under the surface, and was completely +drenched, I made an enthusiastic move toward the bank. Now snowshoes +are not adapted for walking either in swift water or among boulders. +I realized this thoroughly after they had several times tripped me, +sprawling, into the liquid cold. Finally I sat down in the water, took +them off, and came out gracefully. + +I gained the bank with chattering teeth and an icy armor. My pocket +thermometer showed two degrees above zero. Another storm was bearing +down upon me from the range, and the sun was sinking. But the worst of +it all was that there were several miles of rough and strange country +between me and Grand Lake that would have to be made in the dark. I +did not care to take any more chances on the ice, so I spent a hard +hour climbing out of the canon. The climb warmed me and set my +clothes steaming. + +My watch indicated six o'clock. A fine snow was falling, and it was +dark and cold. I had been exercising for twelve hours without rest, +and had eaten nothing since the previous day, as I never take +breakfast. I made a fire and lay down on a rock by it to relax, and +also to dry my clothes. In half an hour I started on again. Rocky and +forest-covered ridges lay between me and Grand Lake. In the darkness +I certainly took the worst way. I met with too much resistance in the +thickets and too little on the slippery places, so that when, at +eleven o'clock that night, I entered a Grand Lake Hotel, my appearance +was not prepossessing. + +The next day, after a few snow-measurements, I set off to re-cross the +range. In order to avoid warm bear-dens and cold streams, I took a +different route. It was a much longer way than the one I had come by, +so I went to a hunter's deserted cabin for the night. The cabin had no +door, and I could see the stars through the roof. The old sheet-iron +stove was badly rusted and broken. Most of the night I spent chopping +wood, and I did not sleep at all. But I had a good rest by the stove, +where I read a little from a musty pamphlet on palmistry that I found +between the logs of the cabin. I always carry candles with me. When +the wind is blowing, the wood damp, and the fingers numb, they are of +inestimable value in kindling a fire. I do not carry firearms, and +during the night, when a lion gave a blood-freezing screech, I wished +he were somewhere else. + +Daylight found me climbing toward the top of the range through the +Medicine Bow National Forest, among some of the noblest evergreens in +Colorado. When the sun came over the range, the silent forest vistas +became magnificent with bright lights and deep shadows. At timber-line +the bald rounded summit of the range, like a gigantic white turtle, +rose a thousand feet above me. The slope was steep and very icy; a +gusty wind whirled me about. Climbing to the top would be like going +up a steep ice-covered house-roof. It would be a dangerous and barely +possible undertaking. But as I did not have courage enough to +retreat, I threw off my snowshoes and started up. I cut a place in the +ice for every step. There was nothing to hold to, and a slip meant a +fatal slide. + +With rushes from every quarter, the wind did its best to freeze or +overturn me. My ears froze, and my fingers grew so cold that they +could hardly hold the ice-axe. But after an hour of constant peril and +ever-increasing exhaustion, I got above the last ice and stood upon +the snow. The snow was solidly packed, and, leaving my snowshoes +strapped across my shoulders, I went scrambling up. Near the top of +the range a ledge of granite cropped out through the snow, and toward +this I hurried. Before making a final spurt to the ledge, I paused to +breathe. As I stopped, I was startled by sounds like the creaking of +wheels on a cold, snowy street. The snow beneath me was slipping! I +had started a snow-slide. + +Almost instantly the slide started down the slope with me on it. The +direction in which it was going and the speed it was making would in +a few seconds carry it down two thousand feet of slope, where it would +leap over a precipice into the woods. I was on the very upper edge of +the snow that had started, and this was the tail-end of the slide. I +tried to stand up in the rushing snow, but its speed knocked my feet +from under me, and in an instant I was rolled beneath the surface. +Beneath the snow, I went tumbling on with it for what seemed like a +long time, but I know, of course, that it was for only a second or +two; then my feet struck against something solid. I was instantly +flung to the surface again, where I either was spilled off, or else +fell through, the end of the slide, and came to a stop on the scraped +and frozen ground, out of the grasp of the terrible snow. + +I leaped to my feet and saw the slide sweep on in most impressive +magnificence. At the front end of the slide the snow piled higher +and higher, while following in its wake were splendid streamers and +scrolls of snow-dust. I lost no time in getting to the top, and set +off southward, where, after six miles, I should come to the trail that +led to my starting-place on the east side of the range. After I had +made about three miles, the cold clouds closed in, and everything was +fogged. A chilly half-hour's wait and the clouds broke up. I had lost +my ten-foot staff in the snow-slide, and feeling for precipices +without it would probably bring me out upon another snow-cornice, so +I took no chances. + +I was twelve thousand five hundred feet above sea-level when the +clouds broke up, and from this great height I looked down upon what +seemed to be the margin of the polar world. It was intensely cold, but +the sun shone with dazzling glare, and the wilderness of snowy peaks +came out like a grand and jagged ice-field in the far south. Halos +and peculiarly luminous balls floated through the color-tinged and +electrical air. The horizon had a touch of cobalt blue, and on the +dome above, white flushes appeared and disappeared like faint auroras. +After five hours on these silent but imposing heights I struck my +first day's trail, and began a wild and merry coast down among the +rocks and trees to my starting-place. + +I hope to have more winter excursions, but perhaps I have had my +share. At the bare thought of those winter experiences I am again +on an unsheltered peak struggling in a storm; or I am in a calm and +splendid forest upon whose snowy, peaceful aisles fall the purple +shadows of crags and pines. + + + + +The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine + + +The peculiar charm and fascination that trees exert over many people +I had always felt from childhood, but it was that great nature-lover, +John Muir, who first showed me how and where to learn their language. +Few trees, however, ever held for me such an attraction as did a +gigantic and venerable yellow pine which I discovered one autumn day +several years ago while exploring the southern Rockies. It grew within +sight of the Cliff-Dwellers' Mesa Verde, which stands at the corner +of four States, and as I came upon it one evening just as the sun +was setting over that mysterious tableland, its character and heroic +proportions made an impression upon me that I shall never forget, and +which familiar acquaintance only served to deepen while it yet lived +and before the axeman came. Many a time I returned to build my +camp-fire by it and have a day or a night in its solitary and noble +company. I learned afterwards that it had been given the name "Old +Pine," and it certainly had an impressiveness quite compatible with +the age and dignity which go with a thousand years of life. + +When, one day, the sawmill-man at Mancos wrote, "Come, we are about to +log your old pine," I started at once, regretting that a thing which +seemed to me so human, as well as so noble, must be killed. + +[Illustration: A VETERAN WESTERN YELLOW PINE] + +I went out with the axemen who were to cut the old pine down. A grand +and impressive tree he was. Never have I seen so much individuality, +so much character, in a tree. Although lightning had given him a bald +crown, he was still a healthy giant, and was waving evergreen banners +more than one hundred and fifteen feet above the earth. His massive +trunk, eight feet in diameter on a level with my breast, was covered +with a thick, rough, golden-brown bark which was broken into irregular +plates. Several of his arms were bent and broken. Altogether, he +presented a timeworn but heroic appearance. + +It is almost a marvel that trees should live to become the oldest of +living things. Fastened in one place, their struggle is incessant and +severe. From the moment a baby tree is born--from the instant it casts +its tiny shadow upon the ground--until death, it is in danger from +insects and animals. It cannot move to avoid danger. It cannot run +away to escape enemies. Fixed in one spot, almost helpless, it must +endure flood and drought, fire and storm, insects and earthquakes, +or die. + +Trees, like people, struggle for existence, and an aged tree, like an +aged person, has not only a striking appearance, but an interesting +biography. I have read the autobiographies of many century-old trees, +and have found their life-stories strange and impressive. The yearly +growth, or annual ring of wood with which trees envelop themselves, is +embossed with so many of their experiences that this annual ring of +growth literally forms an autobiographic diary of the tree's life. + +I wanted to read Old Pine's autobiography. A veteran pine that had +stood on the southern Rockies and struggled and triumphed through the +changing seasons of hundreds of years must contain a rare life-story. +From his stand between the Mesa and the pine-plumed mountain, he had +seen the panorama of the seasons and many a strange pageant; he +had beheld what scenes of animal and human strife, what storms and +convulsions of nature! Many a wondrous secret he had locked within his +tree soul. Yet, although he had not recorded what he had _seen_, +I knew that he had kept a fairly accurate diary of his own personal +experience. This I knew the saw would reveal, and this I had +determined to see. + +Nature matures a million conifer seeds for each one she chooses for +growth, so we can only speculate as to the selection of the seed from +which sprung this storied pine. It may be that the cone in which it +matured was crushed into the earth by the hoof of a passing deer. It +may have been hidden by a jay; or, as is more likely, it may have +grown from one of the uneaten cones which a Douglas squirrel had +buried for winter food. Douglas squirrels are the principal nurserymen +for all the Western pineries. Each autumn they harvest a heavy +percentage of the cone crop and bury it for winter. The seeds in the +uneaten cones germinate, and each year countless thousands of conifers +grow from the seeds planted by these squirrels. It may be that the +seed from which Old Pine burst had been planted by an ancient ancestor +of the protesting Douglas who was in possession, or this seed may have +been in a cone which simply bounded or blew into a hole, where the +seed found sufficient mould and moisture to give it a start in life. + + * * * * * + +Two loggers swung their axes. At the first blow a Douglas squirrel +came out of a hole at the base of a dead limb near the top of the tree +and made an aggressive claim of ownership, setting up a vociferous +protest against the cutting. As his voice was unheeded, he came +scolding down the tree, jumped off one of the lower limbs, and took +refuge in a young pine that stood near by. From time to time he came +out on the top of the limb nearest to us, and, with a wry face, fierce +whiskers, and violent gestures, directed a torrent of abuse at the +axemen who were delivering death-blows to Old Pine. + +The old pine's enormous weight caused him to fall heavily, and he came +to earth with tremendous force and struck on an elbow of one of his +stocky arms. The force of the fall not only broke the trunk in two, +but badly shattered it. The damage to the log was so general that the +sawmill-man said it would not pay to saw it into lumber and that it +could rot on the spot. + +I had come a long distance for the express purpose of deciphering Old +Pine's diary as the scroll of his life should be laid open in the +sawmill. The abandonment of the shattered form compelled the adoption +of another way of getting at his story. Receiving permission to do as +I pleased with his remains, I at once began to cut and split both the +trunk and the limbs and to transcribe their strange records. Day after +day I worked. I dug up the roots and thoroughly dissected them, and +with the aid of a magnifier I studied the trunk, the roots, and the +limbs. + +I carefully examined the base of his stump, and in it I found 1047 +rings of growth! He had lived through a thousand and forty-seven +memorable years. As he was cut down in 1903, his birth probably +occurred in 856. + +In looking over the rings of growth, I found that a few of them were +much thicker than the others; and these thick rings, or coats of wood, +tell of favorable seasons. There were also a few extremely thin rings +of growth. In places two and even three of these were together. These +were the result of unfavorable seasons,--of drought or cold. The +rings of trees also show healed wounds, and tell of burns, bites, +and bruises, of torn bark and broken arms. Old Pine not only received +injuries in his early years, but from time to time throughout his +life. The somewhat kinked condition of several of the rings of growth, +beginning with the twentieth, shows that at the age of twenty he +sustained an injury which resulted in a severe curvature of the spine, +and that for some years he was somewhat stooped. I was unable to make +out from his diary whether this injury was the result of a tree or +some object falling upon him and pinning him down, or whether his back +had been overweighted and bent by wet, clinging snow. As I could not +find any scars or bruises, I think that snow must have been the cause +of the injury. However, after a few years he straightened up with +youthful vitality and seemed to outgrow and forget the experience. + +A century of tranquil life followed, and during these years the rapid +growth tells of good seasons as well as good soil. This rapid growth +also shows that there could not have been any crowding neighbors to +share the sun and the soil. The tree had grown evenly in all quarters, +and the pith of the tree was in the centre. But had one tree grown +close, on that quarter the old pine would have grown slower than the +others and would have been thinner, and the pith would thus have been +away from the tree's centre. + +When the old pine was just completing his one hundred and thirty-fifth +ring of growth, he met with an accident which I can account for only +by assuming that a large tree that grew several yards away blew over, +and in falling, stabbed him in the side with two dead limbs. His bark +was broken and torn, but this healed in due time. Short sections of +the dead limbs broke off, however, and were embedded in the old pine. +Twelve years' growth covered them, and they remained hidden from view +until my splitting revealed them. The other wounds started promptly to +heal and, with one exception, did so. + +A year or two later some ants and borers began excavating their deadly +winding ways in the old pine. They probably started to work in one +of the places injured by the falling tree. They must have had some +advantage, or else something must have happened to the nuthatches and +chickadees that year, for, despite the vigilance of these birds, both +the borers and the ants succeeded in establishing colonies that +threatened injury and possibly death. + +Fortunately relief came. One day the chief surgeon of all the +Southwestern pineries came along. This surgeon was the Texas +woodpecker. He probably did not long explore the ridges and little +furrows of the bark before he discovered the wound or heard these +hidden insects working. After a brief examination, holding his ear to +the bark for a moment to get the location of the tree's deadly foe +beneath, he was ready to act. He made two successful operations. +These not only required him to cut deeply into the old pine and take +out the borers, but he may also have had to come back from time to +time to dress the wounds by devouring the ant-colonies which may have +persisted in taking possession of them. The wounds finally healed, and +only the splitting of the affected parts revealed these records, all +filled with pitch and preserved for nearly nine hundred years. + +Following this, an even tenor marked his life for nearly three +centuries. This quiet existence came to an end in the summer of 1301, +when a stroke of lightning tore a limb out of his round top and badly +shattered a shoulder. He had barely recovered from this injury when a +violent wind tore off several of his arms. During the summer of 1348 +he lost two of his largest arms. These were large and sound, and were +more than a foot in diameter at the points of breakage. As these were +broken by a down-pressing weight or force, we may attribute these +breaks to accumulations of snow. + +The oldest, largest portion of a tree is the short section +immediately above the ground, and, as this lower section is the most +exposed to accidents or to injuries from enemies, it generally bears +evidence of having suffered the most. Within its scroll are usually +found the most extensive and interesting autobiographical impressions. + +It is doubtful if there is any portion of the earth upon which there +are so many deadly struggles as upon the earth around the trunk of a +tree. Upon this small arena there are battles fierce and wild; here +nature is "red in tooth and claw." When a tree is small and tender, +countless insects come to feed upon it. Birds come to it to devour +these insects. Around the tree are daily almost merciless fights for +existence. These death-struggles occur not only in the daytime, but in +the night. Mice, rats, and rabbits destroy millions of young trees. +These bold animals often flay baby trees in the daylight, and while at +their deadly feast many a time have they been surprised by hawks, and +then they are at a banquet where they themselves are eaten. The owl, +the faithful nightwatchman of trees, often swoops down at night, and +as a result some little tree is splashed with the blood of the very +animal that came to feed upon it. + +The lower section of Old Pine's trunk contained records which I found +interesting. One of these in particular aroused my imagination. I was +sawing off a section of this lower portion when the saw, with a +buzz-z-z-z, suddenly jumped. The object struck was harder than the +saw. I wondered what it could be, and, cutting the wood carefully +away, laid bare a flint arrowhead. Close to this one I found another, +and then with care I counted the rings of growth to find out the year +that these had wounded Old Pine. The outer ring which these arrowheads +had pierced was the six hundred and thirtieth, so that the year of +this occurrence was 1486. + +Had an Indian bent his bow and shot at a bear that had stood at bay +backed up against this tree? Or was there around this tree a battle +among Indian tribes? Is it possible that at this place some +Cliff-Dweller scouts encountered their advancing foe from the north +and opened hostilities? It may be that around Old Pine was fought the +battle that is said to have decided the fate of that mysterious race +the Cliff-Dwellers. The imagination insists on speculating with these +two arrowheads, though they form a fascinating clue that leads us +to no definite conclusion. But the fact remains that Old Pine was +wounded by two Indian arrowheads some time during his six hundred and +thirtieth summer. + +The year that Columbus discovered America, Old Pine was a handsome +giant with a round head held more than one hundred feet above the +earth. He was six hundred and thirty-six years old, and with the +coming of the Spanish adventurers his lower trunk was given new events +to record. The year 1540 was a particularly memorable one for him. +This year brought the first horses and bearded men into the drama +which was played around him. This year, for the first time, he felt +the edge of steel and the tortures of fire. The old chronicles say +that the Spanish explorers found the cliff-houses in the year 1540. +I believe that during this year a Spanish exploring party may have +camped beneath Old Pine and built a fire against his instep, and that +some of the explorers hacked him with an axe. The old pine had +distinct records of axe and fire markings during the year 1540. It was +not common for the Indians of the West to burn or mutilate trees, and +as it was common for the Spaniards to do so, and as these hackings in +the tree seemed to have been made with some edged tool sharper than +any possessed by the Indians, it at least seems probable that they +were done by the Spaniards. At any rate, from the year 1540 until the +day of his death, Old Pine carried these scars on his instep. + +As the average yearly growth of the old pine was about the same as in +trees similarly situated at the present time, I suppose that climatic +conditions in his early days must have been similar to the climatic +conditions of to-day. His records indicate periods of even tenor of +climate, a year of extremely poor conditions, occasionally a year +crowned with a bountiful wood harvest. From 1540 to 1762 I found +little of special interest. In 1762, however, the season was not +regular. After the ring was well started, something, perhaps a cold +wave, for a time checked its growth, and as a result the wood for +that one year resembled two years' growth, but yet the difference +between this double or false ring and a regular one was easily +detected. Old Pine's "hard times" experience seems to have been during +the years 1804 and 1805. I think it probable that these were years of +drought. During 1804 the layer of wood was the thinnest in his life, +and for 1805 the only wood I could find was a layer which only partly +covered the trunk of the tree, and this was exceedingly thin. + +From time to time in the old pine's record, I came across what seemed +to be indications of an earthquake shock; but late in 1811 or early in +1812, I think there is no doubt that he experienced a violent shock, +for he made extensive records of it. This earthquake occurred after +the sap had ceased to flow in 1811, and before it began to flow in the +spring of 1812. In places the wood was checked and shattered. At one +point, some distance from the ground, there was a bad horizontal +break. Two big roots were broken in two, and that quarter of the tree +which faced the cliffs had suffered from a rock bombardment. I +suppose the violence of the quake displaced many rocks, and some of +these, as they came bounding down the mountain-side, collided with Old +Pine. One, of about five pounds' weight, struck him so violently in +the side that it remained embedded there. After some years the wound +was healed over, but this fragment remained in the tree until I +released it. + +During 1859 some one made an axe-mark on the old pine that may have +been intended for a trail-blaze, and during the same year another fire +badly burned and scarred his ankle. I wonder if some prospectors came +this way in 1859 and made camp by him. + +Another record of man's visits to the tree was made in the summer of +1881, when I think a hunting or outing party may have camped near here +and amused themselves by shooting at a mark on Old Pine's ankle. +Several modern rifle-bullets were found embedded in the wood around or +just beneath a blaze which was made on the tree the same year in which +the bullets had entered it. As both these marks were made during the +year 1881, it is at least possible that this year the old pine was +used as the background for a target during a shooting contest. + +While I was working over the old pine, a Douglas squirrel who lived +near by used every day to stop in his busy harvesting of pine-cones to +look on and scold me. As I watched him placing his cones in a hole in +the ground under the pine-needles, I often wondered if one of his +buried cones would remain there uneaten to germinate and expand ever +green into the air, and become a noble giant to live as long and as +useful a life as Old Pine. I found myself trying to picture the scenes +in which this tree would stand when the birds came singing back from +the Southland in the springtime of the year 3000. + +After I had finished my work of splitting, studying, and deciphering +the fragments of the old pine, I went to the sawmill and arranged for +the men to come over that evening after I had departed and burn every +piece and vestige of the venerable old tree. I told them I should +be gone by dark. Then I went back and piled into a pyramid every +fragment of root and trunk and broken branch. Seating myself upon this +pyramid, I spent some time that afternoon gazing through the autumn +sunglow at the hazy Mesa Verde, while my mind rebuilt and shifted the +scenes of the long, long drama in which Old Pine had played his part, +and of which he had given us but a few fragmentary records. I lingered +there dreaming until twilight. I thought of the cycles during which he +had stood patient in his appointed place, and my imagination busied +itself with the countless experiences that had been recorded, and the +scenes and pageants he had witnessed but of which he had made no +record. I wondered if he had enjoyed the changing of seasons. I knew +that he had often boomed or hymned in the storm or in the breeze. Many +a monumental robe of snow-flowers had he worn. More than a thousand +times he had beheld the earth burst into bloom amid the happy songs of +mating birds; hundreds of times in summer he had worn countless +crystal rain-jewels in the sunlight of the breaking storm, while the +brilliant rainbow came and vanished on the near-by mountain-side. Ten +thousand times he had stood silent in the lonely light of the white +and mystic moon. + +Twilight was fading into darkness when I arose and started on a +night-journey for the Mesa Verde, where I intended next morning to +greet an old gnarled cedar which grew on its summit. When I arrived at +the top of the Mesa, I looked back and saw a pyramid of golden flame +standing out in the darkness. + + + + +The Beaver and his Works + + +I have never been able to decide which I love best, birds or trees, +but as these are really comrades it does not matter, for they can take +first place together. But when it comes to second place in my +affection for wild things, this, I am sure, is filled by the beaver. +The beaver has so many interesting ways, and is altogether so useful, +so thrifty, so busy, so skillful, and so picturesque, that I believe +his life and his deeds deserve a larger place in literature and a +better place in our hearts. His engineering works are of great value +to man. They not only help to distribute the waters and beneficially +control the flow of the streams, but they also catch and save from +loss enormous quantities of the earth's best plant-food. In helping to +do these two things,--governing the rivers and fixing the soil,--he +plays an important part, and if he and the forest had their way with +the water-supply, floods would be prevented, streams would never run +dry, and a comparatively even flow of water would be maintained in +the rivers every day of the year. + +A number of beaver establishing a colony made one of the most +interesting exhibitions of constructive work that I have ever watched. +The work went on for several weeks, and I spent hours and days in +observing operations. My hiding-place on a granite crag allowed me a +good view of the work,--the cutting and transportation of the little +logs, the dam-building, and the house-raising. I was close to the +trees that were felled. Occasionally, during the construction work of +this colony, I saw several beaver at one time cutting trees near one +another. Upon one occasion, one was squatted on a fallen tree, another +on the limb of a live one, and a third upon a boulder, each busy +cutting down his tree. In every case, the tail was used for a +combination stool and brace. While cutting, the beaver sat upright and +clasped the willow with fore paws or put his hands against the tree, +usually tilting his head to one side. The average diameter of the +trees cut was about four inches, and a tree of this size was cut down +quickly and without a pause. + +When the tree was almost cut off, the cutter usually thumped with his +tail, at which signal all other cutters near by scampered away. But +this warning signal was not always given, and in one instance an +unwarned cutter had a narrow escape from a tree falling perilously +close to him. + +Before cutting a tree, a beaver usually paused and appeared to look at +its surroundings as if choosing a place to squat or sit while cutting +it down; but so far as I could tell, he gave no thought as to the +direction in which the tree was going to fall. This is true of every +beaver which I have seen begin cutting, and I have seen scores. But +beavers have individuality, and occasionally I noticed one with marked +skill or decision. It may be, therefore, that some beaver try to fell +trees on a particular place. In fact, I remember having seen in two +localities stumps which suggested that the beaver who cut down the +trees had planned just how they were to fall. In the first locality, +I could judge only from the record left by the stumps; but the quarter +on which the main notch had been made, together with the fact that the +notch had in two instances been made on a quarter of the tree where +it was inconvenient for the cutter to work, seemed to indicate a plan +to fell the tree in a particular direction. In the other locality, +I knew the attitude of the trees before they were cut, and in this +instance the evidence was so complete and conclusive that I must +believe the beaver that cut down these trees endeavored to get them to +fall in a definite direction. In each of these cases, however, judging +chiefly from the teeth-marks, I think the cuttings were done by the +same beaver. Many observations induce me to believe, however, that the +majority of beaver do not plan how the trees are to fall. + +Once a large tree is on the ground, the limbs are trimmed off and the +trunk is cut into sections sufficiently small to be dragged, rolled, +or pushed to the water, where transportation is easy. + +The young beaver that I have seen cutting trees have worked in +leisurely manner, in contrast with the work of the old ones. After +giving a few bites, they usually stop to eat a piece of the bark, or +to stare listlessly around for a time. As workers, young beaver appear +at their best and liveliest when taking a limb from the hillside to +the house in the pond. A young beaver will catch a limb by one end in +his teeth, and, throwing it over his shoulder in the attitude of a +puppy racing with a rope or a rag, make off to the pond. Once in the +water, he throws up his head and swims to the house or the dam with +the limb held trailing out over his back. + +The typical beaver-house seen in the Rockies at the present time +stands in the upper edge of the pond which the beaver-dam has made, +near where the brook enters it. Its foundation is about eight feet +across, and it stands from five to ten feet in height, a rude cone in +form. Most houses are made of sticks and mud, and are apparently put +up with little thought for the living-room, which is later dug or +gnawed from the interior. The entrance to the house is below +water-level, and commonly on the bottom of the lake. Late each autumn, +the house is plastered on the outside with mud, and I am inclined to +believe that this plaster is not so much to increase the warmth of +the house as to give it, when the mud is frozen, a strong protective +armor, an armor which will prevent the winter enemies of the beaver +from breaking into the house. + +Each autumn beaver pile up near by the house, a large brush-heap of +green trunks and limbs, mostly of aspen, willow, cottonwood, or alder. +This is their granary, and during the winter they feed upon the green +bark, supplementing this with the roots of water-plants, which they +drag from the bottom of the pond. + +Along in May five baby beaver appear, and a little later these explore +the pond and race, wrestle, and splash water in it as merrily as boys. +Occasionally they sun themselves on a fallen log, or play together +there, trying to push one another off into the water. Often they +play in the canals that lead between ponds or from them, or on the +"slides." Toward the close of summer, they have their lessons in +cutting and dam-building. + +[Illustration: A BEAVER-HOUSE + +Supply of winter food piled on the right] + +A beaver appears awkward as he works on land. In use of arms and hands +he reminds one of a monkey, while his clumsy and usually slow-moving +body will often suggest the hippopotamus. By using head, hands, teeth, +tail, and webbed feet the beaver accomplishes much. The tail of a +beaver is a useful and much-used appendage; it serves as a rudder, a +stool, and a ramming or signal club. The beaver _may_ use his tail +for a trowel, but I have never seen him so use it. His four front teeth +are excellent edge-tools for his logging and woodwork; his webbed feet +are most useful in his deep-waterway transportation, and his hands in +house-building and especially in dam-building. It is in dam-building +that the beaver shows his greatest skill and his best headwork; for I +confess to the belief that a beaver reasons. I have so often seen him +change his plans so wisely and meet emergencies so promptly and well +that I can think of him only as a reasoner. + +I have often wondered if beaver make a preliminary survey of a place +before beginning to build a dam. I have seen them prowling +suggestively along brooks just prior to beaver-dam building operations +there, and circumstantial evidence would credit them with making +preliminary surveys. But of this there is no proof. I have noticed a +few things that seem to have been considered by beaver before +beginning dam-building,--the supply of food and of dam-building +material, for instance, and the location of the dam so as to require +the minimum amount of material and insure the creation of the largest +reservoir. In making the dam, the beaver usually takes advantage of +boulders, willow-clumps, and surface irregularities. But he often +makes errors of judgment. I have seen him abandon dams both before and +after completion. The apparent reasons were that the dam either had +failed or would fail to flood the area which he needed or desired +flooded. His endeavors are not always successful. About twenty years +ago, near Helena, Montana, a number of beaver made an audacious +attempt to dam the Missouri River. After long and persistent effort, +however, they gave it up. The beaver may be credited with errors, +failures, and successes. He has forethought. If a colony of beaver be +turned loose upon a three-mile tree-lined brook in the wilds and left +undisturbed for a season, or until they have had time to select a site +and locate themselves to best advantage, it is probable that the +location chosen will indicate that they have examined the entire +brook and then selected the best place. + +As soon as the beaver's brush dam is completed, it begins to +accumulate trash and mud. In a little while, usually, it is covered +with a mass of soil, shrubs of willow begin to grow upon it, and after +a few years it is a strong, earthy, willow-covered dam. The dams vary +in length from a few feet to several hundred feet. I measured one on +the South Platte River that was eleven hundred feet long. + +The influence of a beaver-dam is astounding. As soon as completed, it +becomes a highway for the folk of the wild. It is used day and night. +Mice and porcupines, bears and rabbits, lions and wolves, make a +bridge of it. From it, in the evening, the graceful deer cast their +reflections in the quiet pond. Over it dash pursuer and pursued; and +on it take place battles and courtships. It is often torn by hoof and +claw of animals locked in death-struggles, and often, very often, it +is stained with blood. Many a drama, picturesque, fierce, and wild, is +staged upon a beaver-dam. + +An interesting and valuable book could be written concerning the +earth as modified and benefited by beaver action, and I have long +thought that the beaver deserved at least a chapter in Marsh's +masterly book, "The Earth as modified by Human Action." To "work like +a beaver" is an almost universal expression for energetic persistence, +but who realizes that the beaver has accomplished anything? Almost +unread of and unknown are his monumental works. + +The instant a beaver-dam is completed, it has a decided influence on +the flow of the water, and especially on the quantity of sediment +which the passing water carries. The sediment, instead of going down +to fill the channel below, or to clog the river's mouth, fill the +harbor, and do damage a thousand miles away, is accumulated in the +pond behind the dam, and a level deposit is formed over the entire +area of the lake. By and by this deposit is so great that the lake is +filled with sediment, but before this happens, both lake and dam check +and delay so much flood-water that floods are diminished in volume, +and the water thus delayed is in part added to the flow of the +streams at the time of low water, the result being a more even +stream-flow at all times. + +The regulation of stream-flow is important. There are only a few rainy +days each year, and all the water that flows down the rivers falls +on these few rainy days. The instant the water reaches the earth, it +is hurried away toward the sea, and unless some agency delays the +run-off, the rivers would naturally contain water only on the rainy +days and a little while after. The fact that some rivers contain water +at all times is but evidence that something has held in check a +portion of the water which fell during these rainy days. + +[Illustration: A BEAVER-DAM IN WINTER] + +Among the agencies which best perform this service of keeping the +streams ever-flowing, are the forests and the works of the beaver. +Rainfall accumulates in the brooks. The brooks conduct the water to +the rivers. If across a river there be a beaver-dam, the pond formed +by it will be a reservoir which will catch and retain some of the +water coming into it during rainy days, and will thus delay the +passage of all water which flows through it. Beaver-reservoirs are +leaky ones, and if they are stored full during rainy days, the +leaking helps to maintain the stream-flow in dry weather. A beaver-dam +thus tends to distribute to the streams below it a moderate quantity +of water each day. In other words, it spreads out or distributes the +water of the few rainy days through all the days of the year. A river +which flows steadily throughout the year is of inestimable value to +mankind. If floods sweep a river, they do damage. If low water comes, +the wheels of steamers and of manufactories cease to move, and damage +or death may result. In maintaining a medium between the extremes of +high and low water, the beaver's work is of profound importance. In +helping beneficially to control a river, the beaver would render +enormous service if allowed to construct his works at its source. +During times of heavy rainfall, the water-flow carries with it, +especially in unforested sections, great quantities of soil and +sediment. Beaver-dams catch much of the material eroded from the +hillsides above, and also prevent much erosion along the streams which +they govern. They thus catch and deposit in place much valuable soil, +the cream of the earth, that otherwise would be washed away and +lost,--washed away into the rivers and harbors, impeding navigation +and increasing river and harbor bills. + +There is an old Indian legend which says that after the Creator +separated the land from the water he employed gigantic beavers to +smooth it down and prepare it for the abode of man. This is +appreciative and suggestive. Beaver-dams have had much to do with the +shaping and creating of a great deal of the richest agricultural land +in America. To-day there are many peaceful and productive valleys the +soil of which has been accumulated and fixed in place by ages of +engineering activities on the part of the beaver before the white man +came. On both mountain and plain you may still see much of this good +work accomplished by them. In the mountains, deep and almost useless +gulches have been filled by beaver-dams with sediment, and in course +of time changed to meadows. So far as I know, the upper course of +every river in the Rockies is through a number of beaver-meadows, +some of them acres in extent. + +On the upper course of Grand River in Colorado, I once made an +extensive examination of some old beaver-works. Series of beaver-dams +had been extended along this stream for several miles, as many as +twenty dams to the mile. Each succeeding dam had backed water to the +one above it. These had accumulated soil and formed a series of +terraces, which, with the moderate slope of the valley, had in time +formed an extensive and comparatively level meadow for a great +distance along the river. The beaver settlement on this river was +long ago almost entirely destroyed, and the year before my arrival +a cloudburst had fallen upon the mountain-slope above, and the +down-rushing flood had, in places, eroded deeply into the deposits +formed by the beaver-works. At one place the water had cut down +twenty-two feet, and had brought to light the fact that the deposit +had been formed by a series of dams one above the other, a new dam +having been built or the old one increased in height when the deposit +of sediment had filled, or nearly filled, the pond. This is only one +instance. There are thousands of similar places in the Rockies where +beaver-dams have accumulated deposits of greater or less extent than +those on the Grand River. + +Only a few beaver remain, and though much of their work will endure +to serve mankind, in many places their old work is gone or is going +to ruin for the want of attention. We are paying dearly for the +thoughtless and almost complete destruction of this animal. A live +beaver is far more valuable to us than a dead one. Soil is eroding +away, river-channels are filling, and most of the streams in the +United States fluctuate between flood and low water. A beaver colony +at the source of every stream would moderate these extremes and add to +the picturesqueness and beauty of many scenes that are now growing +ugly with erosion. We need to cooeperate with the beaver. He would +assist the work of reclamation, and be of great service in maintaining +the deep-waterways. I trust he will be assisted in colonizing our +National Forests, and allowed to cut timber there without a permit. + +The beaver is the Abou-ben-Adhem of the wild. May his tribe increase. + + + + +The Wilds without Firearms + + +Had I encountered the two gray wolves during my first unarmed +camping-trip into the wilds, the experience would hardly have +suggested to me that going without firearms is the best way to enjoy +wild nature. But I had made many unarmed excursions beyond the trail +before I had that adventure, and the habit of going without a gun was +so firmly fixed and so satisfactory that even a perilous wolf +encounter did not arouse any desire for firearms. The habit continued, +and to-day the only way I can enjoy the wilds is to leave guns behind. + +On that autumn afternoon I was walking along slowly, reflectively, in +a deep forest. Not a breath of air moved, and even the aspen's golden +leaves stood still in the sunlight. All was calm and peaceful around +and within me, when I came to a little sunny frost-tanned grass-plot +surrounded by tall, crowding pines. I felt drawn to its warmth and +repose and stepped joyfully into it. Suddenly two gray wolves sprang +from almost beneath my feet and faced me defiantly. At a few feet +distance they made an impressive show of ferocity, standing ready +apparently to hurl themselves upon me. + +Now the gray wolf is a powerful, savage beast, and directing his +strong jaws, tireless muscles, keen scent, and all-seeing eyes are +exceedingly nimble wits. He is well equipped to make the severe +struggle for existence which his present environment compels. In many +Western localities, despite the high price offered for his scalp, he +has managed not only to live, but to increase and multiply. I had seen +gray wolves pull down big game. On one occasion I had seen a vigorous +long-horned steer fall after a desperate struggle with two of these +fearfully fanged animals. Many times I had come across scattered bones +which told of their triumph; and altogether I was so impressed with +their deadliness that a glimpse of one of them usually gave me over +to a temporary dread. + +The two wolves facing me seemed to have been asleep in the sun when +I disturbed them. I realized the danger and was alarmed, of course, but +my faculties were under control, were stimulated, indeed, to unusual +alertness, and I kept a bold front and faced them without flinching. +Their expression was one of mingled surprise and anger, together with +the apparent determination to sell their lives as dearly as possible. +I gave them all the attention which their appearance and their +reputation demanded. Not once did I take my eyes off them. I held them +at bay with my eyes. I still have a vivid picture of terribly gleaming +teeth, bristling backs, and bulging muscles in savage readiness. + +They made no move to attack. I was afraid to attack and I dared not +run away. I remembered that some trees I could almost reach behind me +had limbs that stretched out toward me, yet I felt that to wheel, +spring for a limb, and swing up beyond their reach could not be done +quickly enough to escape those fierce jaws. + +Both sides were of the same mind, ready to fight, but not at all eager +to do so. Under these conditions our nearness was embarrassing, and +we faced each other for what seemed, to me at least, a long time. My +mind working like lightning, I thought of several possible ways of +escaping, I considered each at length, found it faulty, and dismissed +it. Meanwhile, not a sound had been made. I had not moved, but +something had to be done. Slowly I worked the small folding axe from +its sheath, and with the slowest of movements placed it in my right +coat-pocket with the handle up, ready for instant use. I did this with +studied deliberation, lest a sudden movement should release the +springs that held the wolves back. I kept on staring. Statues, almost, +we must have appeared to the "camp-bird" whose call from a near-by +limb told me we were observed, and whose nearness gave me courage. +Then, looking the nearer of the two wolves squarely in the eye, I said +to him, "Well, why don't you move?" as though we were playing checkers +instead of the game of life. He made no reply, but the spell was +broken. I believe that both sides had been bluffing. In attempting to +use my kodak while continuing the bluff, I brought matters to a +focus. "What a picture you fellows will make," I said aloud, as my +right hand slowly worked the kodak out of the case which hung under my +left arm. Still keeping up a steady fire of looks, I brought the kodak +in front of me ready to focus, and then touched the spring that +released the folding front. When the kodak mysteriously, suddenly +opened before the wolves, they fled for their lives. In an instant +they had cleared the grassy space and vanished into the woods. I did +not get their picture. + +With a gun, the wolf encounter could not have ended more happily. At +any rate, I have not for a moment cared for a gun since I returned +enthusiastic from my first delightful trip into the wilds without one. +Out in the wilds with nature is one of the safest and most sanitary of +places. Bears are not seeking to devour, and the death-list from +lions, wolves, snakes, and all other bugbears combined does not equal +the death-list from fire, automobiles, street-cars, or banquets. Being +afraid of nature or a rainstorm is like being afraid of the dark. + +The time of that first excursion was spent among scenes that I had +visited before, but the discoveries I made and the deeper feelings +it stirred within me, led me to think it more worth while than any +previous trip among the same delightful scenes. The first day, +especially, was excitingly crowded with new sights and sounds and +fancies. I fear that during the earlier trips the rifle had obscured +most of the scenes in which it could not figure, and as a result I +missed fairyland and most of the sunsets. + +[Illustration: LAKE ODESSA] + +When I arrived at the alpine lake by which I was to camp, evening's +long rays and shadows were romantically robing the picturesque wild +border of the lake. The crags, the temples, the flower-edged +snowdrifts, and the grass-plots of this wild garden seemed +half-unreal, as over them the long lights and torn shadows grouped +and changed, lingered and vanished, in the last moments of the sun. +The deep purple of evening was over all, and the ruined crag with +the broken pine on the ridge-top was black against the evening's +golden glow, when I hastened to make camp by a pine temple while +the beautiful world of sunset's hour slowly faded into the night. + +The camp-fire was a glory-burst in the darkness, and the small +many-spired evergreen temple before me shone an illuminated cathedral +in the night. All that evening I believed in fairies, and by watching +the changing camp-fire kept my fancies frolicking in realms of mystery +where all the world was young. I lay down without a gun, and while the +fire changed and faded to black and gray the coyotes began to howl. +But their voices did not seem as lonely or menacing as when I had had +a rifle by my side. As I lay listening to them, I thought I detected +merriment in their tones, and in a little while their shouts rang as +merrily as though they were boys at play. Never before had I realized +that coyotes too had enjoyments, and I listened to their shouts with +pleasure. At last the illumination faded from the cathedral grove and +its templed top stood in charcoal against the clear heavens as I fell +asleep beneath the peaceful stars. + +The next morning I loitered here and there, getting acquainted with +the lake-shore, for without a gun all objects, or my eyes, were so +changed that I had only a dim recollection of having seen the place +before. From time to time, as I walked about, I stopped to try to win +the confidence of the small folk in fur and feathers. I found some +that trusted me, and at noon a chipmunk, a camp-bird, a chickadee, and +myself were several times busy with the same bit of luncheon at once. + +Some years ago mountain sheep often came in flocks to lick the salty +soil in a ruined crater on Specimen Mountain. One day I climbed up and +hid myself in the crags to watch them. More than a hundred of them +came. After licking for a time, many lay down. Some of the rams posed +themselves on the rocks in heroic attitudes and looked serenely and +watchfully around. Young lambs ran about, and a few occasionally raced +up and down smooth, rocky steeps, seemingly without the slightest +regard for the laws of falling bodies. I was close to the flock, but +luckily they did not suspect my presence. After enjoying their fine +wild play for more than two hours, I slipped away and left them in +their home among the crags. + +One spring day I paused in a whirl of mist and wet snow to look for +the trail. I could see only a few yards ahead. As I peered ahead, a +bear emerged from the gloom, heading straight for me. Behind her were +two cubs. I caught her impatient expression when she beheld me. She +stopped, and then, with a growl of anger, she wheeled and boxed cubs +right and left like an angry mother. The bears disappeared in the +direction from which they had come, the cubs urged on with spanks +from behind as all vanished in the falling snow. + +The gray Douglas squirrel is one of the most active, audacious, and +outspoken of animals. He enjoys seclusion and claims to be monarch of +all he surveys, and no trespasser is too big to escape a scolding from +him. Many times he has given me a terrible tongue-lashing with a +desperate accompaniment of fierce facial expressions, bristling +whiskers, and emphatic gestures. I love this brave fellow creature; +but if he were only a few inches bigger, I should never risk my life +in his woods without a gun. + +This is a beautiful world, and all who go out under the open sky will +feel the gentle, kindly influence of Nature and hear her good +tidings. The forests of the earth are the flags of Nature. They appeal +to all and awaken inspiring universal feelings. Enter the forest and +the boundaries of nations are forgotten. It may be that some time an +immortal pine will be the flag of a united and peaceful world. + + + + +A Watcher on the Heights + + +While on the sky-line as State Snow Observer, I had one adventure with +the elements that called for the longest special report that I have +ever written. Perhaps I cannot do better than quote this report +transmitted to Professor Carpenter, at Denver, on May 26, 1904. + + +NOTES ON THE POUDRE FLOOD + +The day before the Poudre flood, I traveled for eight hours +northwesterly along the top of the Continental Divide, all the time +being above timber-line and from eleven thousand to twelve thousand +feet above sea-level. + +The morning was cloudless and hot. The western sky was marvelously +clear. Eastward, a thin, dark haze overspread everything below ten +thousand feet. By 9.30 A. M. this haze had ascended higher than where +I was. At nine o'clock the snow on which I walked, though it had been +frozen hard during the night, was soggy and wet. + +About 9.30 a calm that had prevailed all the morning gave way before +an easy intermittent warm breeze from the southeast. + +At 10.10 the first cloud appeared in the north, just above Hague's +Peak. It was a heavy cumulus cloud, but I do not know from what +direction it came. It rose high in the air, drifted slowly toward the +west, and then seemed to dissolve. At any rate, it vanished. About +10.30 several heavy clouds rose from behind Long's Peak, moving toward +the northwest, rising higher into the sky as they advanced. + +[Illustration: ON THE HEIGHTS] + +The wind, at first in fitful dashes from the southeast, began to come +more steadily and swiftly after eleven o'clock, and was so warm that +the snow softened to a sloppy state. The air carried a tinge of haze, +and conditions were oppressive. It was labor to breathe. Never, except +one deadly hot July day in New York City, have I felt so overcome with +heat and choking air. Perspiration simply streamed from me. These +oppressive conditions continued for two hours,--until about one +o'clock. While they lasted, my eyes pained, ached, and twitched. There +was no glare, but only by keeping my eyes closed could I stand the +half-burning pain. Finally I came to some crags and lay down for a +time in the shade. I was up eleven thousand five hundred feet and the +time was 12.20. As I lay on the snow gazing upward, I became aware +that there were several flotillas of clouds of from seven to twenty +each, and these were moving toward every point of the compass. Each +seemed on a different stratum of air, and each moved through space a +considerable distance above or below the others. The clouds moving +eastward were the highest. Most of the lower clouds were those moving +westward. The haze and sunlight gave color to every cloud, and this +color varied from smoky red to orange. + +At two o'clock the haze came in from the east almost as dense as a +fog-bank, crossed the ridge before me, and spread out as dark and +foreboding as the smoke of Vesuvius. Behind me the haze rolled upward +when it struck the ridge, and I had clear glimpses whenever I looked +to the southwest. This heavy, muddy haze prevailed for a little more +than half an hour, and as it cleared, the clouds began to disappear, +but a gauzy haze still continued in the air. The feeling in the air +was not agreeable, and for the first time in my life I felt alarmed +by the shifting, rioting clouds and the weird haze. + +I arrived at timber-line south of Poudre Lakes about 4.30 P. M., and +for more than half an hour the sky, except in the east over the +foothills, was clear, and the sunlight struck a glare from the snow. +With the cleared air there came to me an easier feeling. The +oppressiveness ceased. I descended a short distance into the woods +and relaxed on a fallen tree that lay above the snow. + +I had been there but a little while, when--snap! buzz! buzz! buzz! +ziz! ziz! and electricity began to pull my hair and hum around my +ears. The electricity passed off shortly, but in a little while it +caught me again by the hair for a brief time, and this time my right +arm momentarily cramped and my heart seemed to give several lurches. I +arose and tramped on and downward, but every little while I was in for +shocking treatment. The electrical waves came from the southwest and +moved northeast. They were separated by periods of from one to several +minutes in length, and were about two seconds in passing. During +their presence they made it lively for me, with hair-pulling, +heart-palpitation, and muscular cramps. I tried moving speedily with +the wave, also standing still and lying down, hoping that the wave +would pass me by; but in each and every case it gave me the same +stirring treatment. Once I stood erect and rigid as the wave came +on, but it intensified suddenly the rigidity of every muscle to a +seemingly rupturing extent, and I did not try that plan again. The +effect of each wave on me seemed to be slightly weakened whenever +I lay down and fully relaxed my muscles. + +I was on a northerly slope, in spruce timber, tramping over five feet +of snow. During these electrical waves, the points of dry twigs were +tipped with a smoky blue flame, and sometimes bands of this bluish +flame encircled green trees just below their lower limbs. I looked at +the compass a few times, and though the needle occasionally swayed a +little, it was not affected in any marked manner. + +The effect of the electrical waves on me became less as I descended, +but whether from my getting below the electrical stratum, or from a +cessation of the current, I cannot say. + +But I did not descend much below eleven thousand feet, and at the +lowest point I crossed the South Poudre, at the outlet of Poudre +Lakes. In crossing I broke through the ice and received a wetting, +with the exception of my right side above the hip. Once across, I +walked about two hundred yards through an opening, then again entered +the woods, on the southeasterly slope of Specimen Mountain. I had +climbed only a short distance up this slope when another electrical +wave struck me. The effect of this was similar to that of the +preceding ones. There was, however, a marked difference in the +intensity with which the electricity affected the wet and the dry +portions of my body. The effect on my right side and shoulder, which +had escaped wetting when I broke through the ice, was noticeably +stronger than on the rest of my body. Climbing soon dried my clothes +sufficiently to make this difference no longer noticeable. The waves +became more frequent than at first, but not so strong. I made a clumsy +climb of about five hundred feet, my muscles being "muscle-bound" all +the time with rigidity from electricity. But this climb brought me +almost to timber-line on Specimen Mountain, and also under the shadow +of the south peak of it. At this place the electrical effects almost +ceased. Nor did I again seriously feel the current until I found +myself out in the sunlight which came between the two peaks of +Specimen. While I continued in the sunlight I felt the electrical +wave, but, strange to say, when I again entered the shadow I almost +wholly escaped it. + +When I started on the last slope toward the top of North Specimen, I +came out into the sunlight again, and I also passed into an electrical +sea. The slope was free from snow, and as the electrical waves swept +in close succession, about thirty seconds apart, they snapped, hummed, +and buzzed in such a manner that their advance and retreat could be +plainly heard. In passing by me, the noise was more of a crackling and +humming nature, while a million faint sparks flashed from the stones +(porphyry and rhyolite) as the wave passed over. But the effect on me +became constant. Every muscle was almost immovable. I could climb only +a few steps without weakening to the stopping-point. I breathed only +by gasps, and my heart became violent and feeble by turns. I felt as +if cinched in a steel corset. After I had spent ten long minutes and +was only half-way up a slope, the entire length of which I had more +than once climbed in a few minutes and in fine shape, I turned to +retreat, but as there was no cessation of the electrical colic, I +faced about and started up again. I reached the top a few minutes +before 6.30 P. M., and shortly afterward the sun disappeared behind +clouds and peaks. + +I regret that I failed to notice whether the electrical effects +ceased with the setting of the sun, but it was not long after the +disappearance of the sun before I was at ease, enjoying the +magnificent mountain-range of clouds that had formed above the +foothills and stood up glorious in the sunlight. + +Shortly before five o'clock the clouds had begun to pile up in the +east, and their gigantic forms, flowing outlines, and glorious +lighting were the only things that caused the electrical effects to be +forgotten even momentarily. The clouds formed into a long, solid, +rounded range that rose to great height and was miles in length. The +southern end of this range was in the haze, and I could not make out +its outline further south than a point about opposite Loveland, +Colorado, nor could I see the northern end beyond a few miles north of +Cheyenne, where it was cut off by a dozen strata of low clouds that +moved steadily at a right angle to the east. Sixty miles of length was +visible. Its height, like that of the real mountains which it +paralleled, diminished toward the north. The place of greatest +altitude was about twenty-five miles distant from me. From my +location, the clouds presented a long and smoothly terraced slope, the +top of which was at least five thousand feet and may have been fifteen +thousand feet above me. The clouds seemed compact; at times they +surged upwards; then they would settle with a long, undulating swell, +as if some unseen power were trying to force them further up the +mountains, while they were afraid to try it. Finally a series of low, +conical peaks rose on the summit of the cloud-range, and the peaks and +the upper cloud-slope resembled the upper portion of a circus-tent. +There were no rough places or angles. + +When darkness came on, the surface of this cloud-range was at times +splendidly illuminated by electricity beneath; and, when the darkness +deepened, the electrical play beneath often caused the surface to +shine momentarily like incandescent glass, and occasionally sinuous +rivers of gold ran over the slopes. Several times I thought that the +course of these golden rivers of electrical fire was from the bottom +upward, but so brilliant and dazzling were they that I could not +positively decide on the direction of their movement. Never have I +seen such enormous cloud-forms or such brilliant electrical effects. + +The summit of Specimen Mountain, from which I watched the clouds and +electrical flashes, is about twelve thousand five hundred feet above +sea-level. A calm prevailed while I remained on top. It was about +8.30 P. M. when I left the summit, on snowshoes, and swept down the +steep northern slope into the woods. This hurry caused no unusual +heart or muscle action. + +The next morning was cloudy as low down as ten thousand five hundred +feet, and, for all I know, lower still. The night had been warm, and +the morning had the oppressive feeling that dominated the morning +before. The clouds broke up before nine o'clock, and the air, with +haze in it, seemed yellow. About 10.30, haze and, soon after, clouds +came in from the southeast (at this time I was high up on the +southerly slope of Mt. Richthofen), and by eleven o'clock the sky was +cloudy. Up to this time the air, when my snow-glasses were off, burned +and twitched my eyes in the same manner as on the previous morning. + +Early in the afternoon I left Grand Ditch Camp and started down to +Chambers Lake. I had not gone far when drops of rain began to fall +from time to time, and shortly after this my muscles began to twitch +occasionally under electrical ticklings. At times slight muscular +rigidity was noticeable. Just before two o'clock the clouds began to +burst through between the trees. I was at an altitude of about eleven +thousand feet and a short distance from the head of Trap Creek. Rain, +hail, and snow fell in turn, and the lightning began frequently to +strike the rocks. With the beginning of the lightning my muscles +ceased to be troubled with either twitching or rigidity. For the two +hours between 2 and 4 P. M. the crash and roll of thunder was +incessant. I counted twenty-three times that the lightning struck the +rocks, but I did not see it strike a tree. The clouds were low, and +the wind came from the east and the northeast, then from the west. + +[Illustration: A STORM ON THE ROCKIES] + +About four o'clock, I broke through the snow, tumbled into Trap Creek, +and had to swim a little. This stream was really very swift, and ran +in a narrow gulch, but it was blocked by snow and by tree-limbs swept +down by the flood, and a pond had been formed. It was crowded with a +deep deposit of snow which rested on a shelf of ice. This covering was +shattered and uplifted by the swollen stream, and I had slipped on the +top of the gulch and tumbled in. Once in, the swift water tugged at +me to pull me under; the cakes of snow and ice hampered me, and my +snowshoes were entangled with brush and limbs. The combination seemed +determined to drown me. For a few seconds I put forth all my efforts +to get at my pocket-knife. This accomplished, the fastenings of my +snowshoes were cut, and unhampered by these, I escaped the waters. + + * * * * * + +Since I have felt no ill results, the effect of the entire experience +may have been beneficial. The clouds, glorious as they had been in +formation and coloring, resulted in a terrible cloudburst. Enormous +quantities of water were poured out, and this, falling upon the +treeless foothills, rushed away to do more than a million dollars' +damage in the rich and beautiful Poudre Valley. + + + + +Climbing Long's Peak + + +Among the best days that I have had outdoors are the two hundred and +fifty-seven that were spent as a guide on Long's Peak. One day was +required from the starting-place near my cabin for each round trip to +the summit of the peak. Something of interest occurred to enliven each +one of these climbs: a storm, an accident, the wit of some one or the +enthusiasm of all the climbers. But the climb I remember with greatest +satisfaction is the one on which I guided Harriet Peters, an +eight-year-old girl, to the top. + +It was a cold morning when we started for the top, but it was this day +or wait until next season, for Harriet was to start for her Southern +home in a day or two and could not wait for a more favorable morning. +Harriet had spent the two preceding summers near my cabin, and around +it had played with the chipmunks and ridden the burros, and she had +made a few climbs with me up through the woods. We often talked of +going to the top of Long's Peak when she should become strong enough +to do so. This time came just after her eighth birthday. As I was as +eager to have her make the climb as she was to make it, we started up +the next morning after her aunt had given permission for her to go. +She was happy when I lifted her at last into the saddle, away up on +old "Top's" back. She was so small that I still wonder how she managed +to stay on, but she did so easily. + +Long's Peak is not only one of the most scenic of the peaks in the +Rocky Mountains, but it is probably the most rugged. From our +starting-place it was seven miles to the top; five of these miles may +be ridden, but the last two are so steep and craggy that one must go +on foot and climb. + +[Illustration: LONG'S PEAK FROM THE SUMMIT OF MT. MEEKER] + +After riding a little more than a mile, we came to a clear, cold brook +that is ever coming down in a great hurry over a steep mountain-side, +splashing, jumping, and falling over the boulders of one of nature's +stony stairways and forming white cascades which throw their spray +among the tall, dark pines. I had told Harriet that ouzels lived by +this brook; she was eager to see one, and we stopped at a promising +place by the brook to watch. In less than a minute one came flying +down the cascades, and so near to the surface of the water that he +seemed to be tumbling and sliding down with it. He alighted on a +boulder near us, made two or three pleasant curtsies, and started to +sing one of his low, sweet songs. He was doing the very thing of which +I had so often told Harriet. We watched and listened with breathless +interest. In the midst of the song he dived into the brook; in a +moment he came up with a water-bug in his bill, settled on the boulder +again, gave his nods, and resumed his song, seemingly at the point +where he left off. After a few low, sweet notes he broke off again and +plunged into the water. This time he came up quickly and alighted on +the spot he had just left, and went on with his song without any +preliminaries and as if there had been no interruption. + +The water-ouzel is found by the alpine lakes and brooks on the +mountains of the West. It is a modest-appearing bird, about the size +of a thrush, and wears a plain dress of slaty blue. This dress is +finished with a tail-piece somewhat like that of the wren, though it +is not upturned so much. The bird seems to love cascades, and often +nests by one. It also shows its fondness for water by often flying +along the brook, following every bend and break made by the stream, +keeping close to the water all the time and frequently touching it. +Over the quiet reaches it goes skimming; it plunges over the +waterfalls, alights on rocks in the rapids, goes dashing through the +spray, its every movement showing the ecstasies of eager life and joy +in the hurrying water. Our ouzel was quietly feeding on the edge of +the brook, when Harriet said good-bye as our ponies started up the +trail. + +Harriet had never been in school, but she could read, write, and sing. +She had good health, and a brighter, cheerier little girl I have never +seen. As we rode up the trail through the woods, the gray Douglas +squirrels were busy with the harvest. They were cutting off and +storing cones for winter food. In the treetops these squirrels seemed +to be bouncing and darting in all directions. One would cut off a +cone, then dart to the next, and so swiftly that cones were +constantly dropping. Frequently the cones struck limbs and bounded as +they fell, often coming to the ground to bounce and roll some distance +over the forest floor. An occasional one went rolling and bouncing +down the steep mountain-side with two or three happy chipmunks in +jolly pursuit. + +We watched one squirrel stow cones under trash and in holes in the +thick beds of needles. These cones were buried near a tree, in a +dead limb of which the squirrel had a hole and a home. Harriet asked +many questions concerning the cones,--why they were buried, how the +squirrel found them when they were buried in the snow, and what became +of those which were left buried. I told her that during the winter the +squirrel came down and dug through the snow to the cones and then fed +upon the nuts. I also told her that squirrels usually buried more +cones than were eaten. The uneaten cones, being left in the ground, +were in a way planted, and the nuts in them in time sprouted, and +young trees came peeping up among the fallen leaves. The squirrel's +way of observing Arbor Day makes him a useful forester. Harriet said +she would tell all her boy and girl friends what she knew of this +squirrel's tree-planting ways, and would ask her uncle not to shoot +the little tree-planter. + +As we followed the trail up through the woods, I told Harriet many +things concerning the trees, and the forces which influenced their +distribution and growth. While we were traveling westward in the +bottom of a gulch, I pointed out to her that the trees on the mountain +that rose on the right and sloped toward the south were of a different +kind from those on the mountain-side which rose on our left and sloped +toward the north. After traveling four miles and climbing up two +thousand feet above our starting-place, and, after from time to time +coming to and passing kinds of trees which did not grow lower down the +slopes, we at last came to timber-line, above which trees did not grow +at all. + +In North America between timber-line on the Rockies, at an altitude of +about eleven thousand feet, and sea-level on the Florida coast, there +are about six hundred and twenty kinds of trees and shrubs growing. +Each kind usually grows in the soil and clime that is best suited to +its requirements; in other words, most trees are growing where they +can do the best, or where they can do better than any other kind. Some +trees do the best at the moist seashore; some thrive in swamps; others +live only on the desert's edge; some live on the edge of a river; and +still others manage to endure the storms of bleak heights. + +At timber-line the trees have a hard time of it. All of them at this +place are dwarfed, many distorted, some crushed to the earth, +flattened out upon the ground like pressed flowers, by the snowdrifts +that have so long lain upon them. The winter winds at this place blow +almost constantly from the same quarter for days at a time, and often +attain a high velocity. The effect of these winds is strikingly shown +by the trees. None of the trees are tall, and most of them are +leaning, pushed partly over by the wind. Some are sprawled on the +ground like uncouth vines or spread out from the stump like a fan +with the onsweeping direction of the storms. Most of the standing, +unsheltered trees have limbs only on the leeward quarter, all the +other limbs having been blown off by the wind or cut off by the +wind-blown gravel. Most of the exposed trees are destitute of bark +on the portion of the trunk that faces these winter winds. Some of +the dead standing trees are carved into strange totem-poles by the +sand-blasts of many fierce storms. With all the trees warped or +distorted, the effect of timber-line is weird and strange. + +Harriet and I got off the ponies the better to examine some of the +storm-beaten trees. Harriet was attracted to a few dwarf spruces that +were standing in a drift of recently fallen snow. Although these +dwarfed little trees were more than a hundred years old, they were so +short that the little mountain-climber who stood by them was taller +than they. After stroking one of the trees with her hand, Harriet +stood for a time in silence, then out of her warm childish nature she +said, "What brave little trees to live up here where they have to +stand all the time in the snow!" Timber-line, with its strange tree +statuary and treeless snowy peaks and crags rising above it, together +with its many kinds of bird and animal life and its flower-fringed +snowdrifts, is one of nature's most expressive exhibits, and I wish +every one might visit it. At an altitude of about eleven thousand +seven hundred feet we came to the last tree. It was ragged, and so +small that you could have hidden it beneath a hat. It nestled up to a +boulder, and appeared so cold and pitiful that Harriet wanted to know +if it was lost. It certainly appeared as if it had been lost for a +long, long time. + +Among the crags Harriet and I kept sharp watch for mountain sheep, but +we did not see any. We were fortunate enough, however, to see a flock +of ptarmigan. These birds were huddled in a hole which narrowly +escaped being trampled on by Top. They walked quietly away, and we had +a good look at them. They were almost white; in winter they are pure +white, while in summer they are of a grayish brown. At all times +their dress matches the surroundings fairly well, so that they have +a protective coloring which makes it difficult for their enemies to +see them. + +At an altitude of twelve thousand five hundred feet the horses were +tied to boulders and left behind. From this place to the top of the +peak the way is too rough or precipitous for horses. For a mile +Harriet and I went forward over the boulders of an old moraine. The +last half-mile was the most difficult of all; the way was steep and +broken, and was entirely over rocks, which were covered with a few +inches of snow that had fallen during the night. + +We climbed slowly; all good climbers go slowly. Harriet also +faithfully followed another good mountain rule,--"Look before you +step." She did not fall, slip, or stumble while making the climb. Of +course we occasionally rested, and whenever we stopped near a flat +rock or a level place, we made use of it by lying down on our backs, +straightening out arms and legs, relaxing every muscle, and for a time +resting as loosely as possible. Just before reaching the top, we made +a long climb through the deepest snow that we had encountered. Though +the sun was warm, the air, rocks, and snow were cold. Not only was the +snow cold to the feet, but climbing through it was tiresome, and at +the first convenient place we stopped to rest. Finding a large, smooth +rock, we lay down on our backs side by side. We talked for a time and +watched an eagle soaring around up in the blue sky. I think Harriet +must have recalled a suggestion which I made at timber-line, for +without moving she suddenly remarked, "Mr. Mills, my feet are so cold +that I can't tell whether my toes are wiggling or not." + +Five hours after starting, Harriet stepped upon the top, the youngest +climber to scale Long's Peak. The top is fourteen thousand two hundred +and fifty-nine feet above the sea, is almost level, and, though rough, +is roomy enough for a baseball game. Of course if the ball went over +the edge, it would tumble a mile or so before stopping. With the top +so large, you will realize that the base measures miles across. The +upper three thousand feet of the peak is but a gigantic mass, almost +destitute of soil or vegetation. Some of the rocks are flecked and +spotted with lichens, and a few patches of moss and straggling, +beautiful alpine flowers can be found during August. There is but +little chance for snow to lodge, and for nearly three thousand feet +the peak rises a bald, broken, impressive stone tower. + +While Harriet and I were eating luncheon, a ground-hog that I had fed +on other visits came out to see if there was anything for him. Some +sparrows also lighted near; they looked hungry, so we left some bread +for them and then climbed upon the "tip-top," where our picture was +taken. + +From the tip-top we could see more than a hundred miles toward any +point of the compass. West of us we saw several streams that were +flowing away toward the Pacific; east of us the streams flowed to the +Atlantic. I told Harriet that the many small streams we saw all grew +larger as they neared the sea. Harriet lived at the "big" end of the +Arkansas River. She suddenly wanted to know if I could show her the +"little end of the Arkansas River." + +[Illustration: ON THE TIP-TOP OF LONG'S PEAK] + +After an hour on top we started downward and homeward, the little +mountain-climber feeling happy and lively. But she was careful, and +only once during the day did she slip, and this slip was hardly her +fault: we were coming off an enormous smooth boulder that was wet from +the new snow that was melting, when both Harriet's feet shot from +under her and she fell, laughing, into my arms. + +"Hello, Top, I am glad to see you," said Harriet when we came to the +horses. While riding homeward I told Harriet that I had often climbed +the peak by moonlight. On the way down she said good-bye to the little +trees at timber-line, the squirrels, and the ouzel. When I at last +lifted Harriet off old Top at the cabin, many people came out to greet +her. To all she said, "Yes, I'm tired, but some time I want to go up +by moonlight." + + + + +Midget, the Return Horse + + +In many of the Western mining-towns, the liverymen keep "return +horses,"--horses that will return to the barn when set at liberty, +whether near the barn or twenty miles away. These horses are the pick +of their kind. They have brains enough to take training readily, and +also to make plans of their own and get on despite the unexpected +hindrances that sometimes occur. When a return horse is ridden to a +neighboring town, he must know enough to find his way back, and he +must also be so well trained that he will not converse too long with +the horse he meets going in the opposite direction. + +The return horse is a result of the necessities of mountain sections, +especially the needs of miners. Most Western mining-towns are located +upon a flat or in a gulch. The mines are rarely near the town, but are +on the mountain-slopes above it. Out of town go a dozen roads or +trails that extend to the mines, from one to five miles away, and +much higher than the town. A miner does not mind walking down to the +town, but he wants to ride back; or the prospector comes in and wants +to take back a few supplies. The miner hires a return horse, rides it +to the mine, and then turns the horse loose. It at once starts to +return to the barn. If a horse meets a freight wagon coming up, it +must hunt for a turnout if the road is narrow, and give the wagon the +right of way. If the horse meets some one walking up, it must avoid +being caught. + +The San Juan mining section of southwestern Colorado has hundreds +of these horses. Most of the mines are from one thousand to three +thousand feet above the main supply-points, Ouray, Telluride, and +Silverton. Ouray and Telluride are not far apart by trail, but they +are separated by a rugged range that rises more than three thousand +feet above them. Men often go by trail from one of these towns to the +other, and in so doing usually ride a return horse to the top of the +range, then walk down the other side. + +[Illustration: A MINER ON A RETURN HORSE] + +"Be sure to turn Jim loose before you reach the summit; he won't +come back if you ride him even a short distance on the other side," +called a Telluride liveryman to me as I rode out of his barn. It seems +that the most faithful return horse may not come back if ridden far +down the slope away from home, but may stray down it rather than climb +again to the summit to return home. The rider is warned also to +"fasten up the reins and see that the cinches are tight" when he turns +the horse loose. If the cinches are loose, the saddle may turn when +the horse rolls; or if the reins are down, the horse may graze for +hours. Either loose reins or loose cinches may cripple a horse by +entangling his feet, or by catching on a snag in the woods. Once +loose, the horse generally starts off home on a trot. But he is not +always faithful. When a number of these horses are together, they +will occasionally play too long on the way. A great liking for grass +sometimes tempts them into a ditch, where they may eat grass even +though the reins are up. + +The lot of a return horse is generally a hard one. A usurper +occasionally catches a horse and rides him far away. Then, too often, +his owner blames him for the delay, and for a time gives him only +half-feed to "teach him not to fool along." Generally the return horse +must also be a good snow horse, able to flounder and willing to make +his way through deep drifts. He may be thirsty on a warm day, but he +must go all the way home before having a drink. Often, in winter, he +is turned loose at night on some bleak height to go back over a lonely +trail, a task which he does not like. Horses, like most animals and +like man, are not at ease when alone. A fallen tree across the trail +or deepened snow sometimes makes the horse's return journey a hard +one. On rare occasions, cinch or bridle gets caught on a snag or +around his legs, and cripples him or entangles him so that he falls +a victim to the unpitying mountain lion or some other carnivorous +animal. + +I have never met a return horse without stopping to watch it as +far as it could be seen. They always go along with such unconscious +confidence and quiet alertness that they are a delight to behold. Many +good days I have had in their company, and on more than one occasion +their alertness, skill, and strength have saved me either from injury +or from the clutches of that great white terror the snow-slide. + +The February morning that I rode "Midget" out of Alma began what +proved to be by far the most delightful association that I have ever +had with a return horse, and one of the happiest experiences with +nature and a dumb animal that has ever come into my life. + +I was in government experiment work as "State Snow Observer," and +wanted to make some observations on the summit peaks of the +"Twelve-Mile" and other ranges. Midget was to carry me far up the side +of these mountains to the summit of Hoosier Pass. A heavy snow had +fallen a few days before I started out. The wind had drifted most of +this out of the open and piled it deeply in the woods and gulches. +Midget galloped merrily away over the wind-swept ground. We came to +a gulch, I know not how deep, that was filled with snow, and here I +began to appreciate Midget. Across this gulch it was necessary for us +to go. The snow was so deep and so soft that I dismounted and put +on my snowshoes and started to lead Midget across. She followed +willingly. After a few steps, a flounder and a snort caused me to look +back, and all I could see of Midget was her two little ears wriggling +in the snow. When we reached the other side, Midget came out breathing +heavily, and at once shook her head to dislodge the snow from her +forehead and her ears. She was impatient to go on, and before I could +take off my snowshoes and strap them on my back, she was pawing the +ground impatiently, first with one little fore foot and then with the +other. I leaped into the saddle and away we went again. We had a very +pleasant morning of it. + +About eleven o'clock I dismounted to take a picture of the snowy slope +of Mt. Silverheels. Evidently Midget had never before seen a kodak. +She watched with extraordinary interest the standing of the little +three-legged affair upon the ground and the mounting of the small +black box upon it. She pointed her ears at it; tilted her head to one +side and moved her nose up and down. I moved away from her several +feet to take the picture. She eyed the kodak with such intentness that +I invited her to come over and have a look at it. She came at once, +turning her head and neck to one side to prevent the bridle-reins, +which I had thrown upon the ground, from entangling her feet. Once by +me, she looked the kodak and tripod over with interest, smelled of +them, but was careful not to strike the tripod with her feet or to +overturn it and the kodak with her nose. She seemed so interested that +I told her all about what I was doing,--what I was taking a picture +of, why I was taking it, and how long an exposure I was going to give +it; and finally I said to her: "To-morrow, Midget, when you are back +in your stall in the barn at Alma, eating oats, I shall be on the +other side of Mt. Silverheels, taking pictures there. Do you +understand?" She pawed the ground with her right fore foot with +such a satisfied look upon her face that I was sure she thought +she understood all about it. + +From time to time I took other pictures, and after the first +experience Midget did not wait to be invited to come over and watch +me, but always followed me to every new spot where I set the tripod +and kodak down, and on each occasion I talked freely with her, and +she seemed to understand and to be much interested. + +Shortly after noon, when I was taking a picture, Midget managed to +get her nose into my mammoth outside coat-pocket. There she found +something to her liking. It was my habit to eat lightly when rambling +about the mountains, often eating only once a day, and occasionally +going two or three days without food. I had a few friends who were +concerned about me, and who were afraid I might some time starve to +death. So, partly as a joke and partly in earnest, they would mail me +a package of something to eat, whenever they knew at what post-office +I was likely to turn up. At Alma, the morning I hired Midget, the +prize package which I drew from the post-office contained salted +peanuts. I did not care for them, but put them into my pocket. It was +past noon and Midget was hungry. I was chattering away to her about +picture-taking when, feeling her rubbing me with her nose, I put my +hand around to find that she was eating salted peanuts from my big +coat-pocket. Midget enjoyed them so much that I allowed her to put +her nose into my pocket and help herself, and from time to time, too, +I gave her a handful of them until they were all gone. + +Late in the afternoon, Midget and I arrived at the top of Hoosier +Pass. I told her to look tired and I would take her picture. She +dropped her head and neck a little, and there on the wind-swept pass, +with the wind-swept peaks in the background, I photographed her. Then +I told her it was time to go home, that it was sure to be after dark +before she could get back. So I tightened the cinches, fastened up the +bridle-rein over the horn of the saddle, and told her to go. She +looked around at me, but did not move. Evidently she preferred to stay +with me. So I spoke to her sternly and said, "Midget, you will have +to go home!" Without even looking round, she kicked up her heels and +trotted speedily down the mountain and disappeared. I did not imagine +that we would meet again for some time. + +I went on, and at timber-line on Mt. Lincoln I built a camp-fire and +without bedding spent the night by it. The next day I climbed several +peaks, took many photographs, measured many snowdrifts, and made many +notes in my notebook. When night came on, I descended from the crags +and snows into the woods, built a fire, and spent the night by it, +sleeping for a little while at a time. Awakening with the cold, I +would get up and revive my fire, and then lie down to sleep. The next +day a severe storm came on, and I was compelled to huddle by my fire +all day, for the wind was so fierce and the snow so blinding that it +would have been extremely risky to try to cross the craggy and +slippery mountain-summits. All that day I stayed by the fire, but that +night, instead of trying to get a little sleep there, I crawled into a +newly formed snowdrift, and in it slept soundly and quite comfortably +until morning. Toward noon the storm ceased, but it had delayed me a +day. I had brought with me only a pound of raisins, and had eaten +these during the first two days. I felt rather hungry, and almost +wished I had saved some of the salted peanuts that I had given Midget, +but I felt fresh and vigorous, and joyfully I made my way over the +snowy crest of the continent. + +Late that night I came into the mining-town of Leadville. At the hotel +I found letters and a telegram awaiting me. This telegram told me that +it was important for me to come to the Pike's Peak National Forest at +the earliest possible moment. + +After a light supper and an hour's rest, I again tied on my snowshoes, +and at midnight started to climb. The newly fallen snow on the steep +mountain-side was soft and fluffy. I sank so deeply into it and made +such slow progress that it was late in the afternoon of the next day +before I reached timber-line on the other side. The London mine lay a +little off my course, and knowing that miners frequently rode return +horses up to it, I thought that by going to the mine I might secure a +return horse to carry me back to Alma, which was about thirteen miles +away. With this in mind, I started off in a hurry. In my haste I +caught one of my webbed shoes on the top of a gnarly, storm-beaten +tree that was buried and hidden in the snow. I fell, or rather dived, +into the snow, and in so doing broke a snowshoe and lost my hat. This +affair delayed me a little, and I gave up going to the mine, but +concluded to go to the trail about a mile below it, and there +intercept the first return horse that came down. Just before I reached +the trail, I heard a horse coming. + +As this trail was constantly used, the snow was packed down, while the +untrampled snow on each side of it lay from two to four feet deep. +Seeing that this pony was going to get past before I could reach the +trail, I stopped, took a breath, and called out to it. When I said, +"Hello, pony," the pony did not hello. Instead of slackening its pace, +it seemed to increase it. Knowing that this trail was one that Midget +had often to cover, I concluded as a forlorn hope to call her name, +thinking that the pony might be Midget. So I called out, "Hello, +Midget!" The pony at once stopped, looked all around, and gave a +delighted little whinny. It was Midget! The instant she saw me, she +tried to climb up out of the trail into the deep snow where I was, but +I hastened to prevent her. Leaping down by her side, I put my arm +around her neck, and told her that I was very glad to see her, and +that I wanted to ride to Alma. Her nose found its way into my +coat-pocket. "Well, Midget, it is too bad. Really, I was not +expecting to see you, and I haven't a single salted peanut, but if you +will just allow me to ride this long thirteen miles into Alma, I will +give you all the salted peanuts that you will be allowed to eat. I am +tired, and should very much like to have a ride. Will you take me?" +She at once started to paw the snowy trail with a small fore foot, as +much as to say, "Hurry up!" I took off my snowshoes, and without +waiting to fasten them on my back, jumped into the saddle. In a +surprisingly short time, and with loud stamping on the floor, Midget +carried me into the livery barn at Alma. + +When her owner saw a man in the saddle, he was angry, and reminded me +that it was unfair and illegal to capture a return horse; but when he +recognized me, he at once changed his tone, and he became friendly +when I told him that Midget had invited me to ride. He said that as +she had invited me to ride I should have to pay the damages to her. +I told him that we had already agreed to this. "But how in thunder +did you catch her?" he asked. "Yesterday Pat O'Brien tried that, +and he is now in the hospital with two broken ribs. She kicked him." + +I said good-bye to Midget, and went to my supper, leaving her +contentedly eating salted peanuts. + + + + +Faithful Scotch + + +I carried little Scotch all day long in my overcoat pocket as I rode +through the mountains on the way to my cabin. His cheerful, cunning +face, his good behavior, and the clever way in which he poked his +head out of my pocket, licked my hand, and looked at the scenery, +completely won my heart before I had ridden an hour. That night he +showed so strikingly the strong, faithful characteristics for which +collies are noted that I resolved never to part with him. Since then +we have had great years together. We have been hungry and happy +together, and together we have played by the cabin, faced danger in +the wilds, slept peacefully among the flowers, followed the trails +by starlight, and cuddled down in winter's drifting snow. + +On my way home through the mountains with puppy Scotch, I stopped for +a night near a deserted ranch-house and shut him up in a small +abandoned cabin. He at once objected and set up a terrible barking and +howling, gnawing fiercely at the crack beneath the door and trying to +tear his way out. Fearing he would break his little puppy teeth, or +possibly die from frantic and persistent efforts to be free, I +concluded to release him from the cabin. My fears that he would run +away if left free were groundless. He made his way to my saddle, which +lay on the ground near by, crawled under it, turned round beneath it, +and thrust his little head from beneath the arch of the horn and lay +down with a look of contentment, and also with an air which said, +"I'll take care of this saddle. I'd like to see any one touch it." + +[Illustration: SCOTCH NEAR TIMBER LINE] + +And watch it he did. At midnight a cowboy came to my camp-fire. He had +been thrown from his bronco and was making back to his outfit on foot. +In approaching the fire his path lay close to my saddle, beneath which +Scotch was lying. Tiny Scotch flew at him ferociously; never have I +seen such faithful ferociousness in a dog so small and young. I took +him in my hands and assured him that the visitor was welcome, and in +a moment little Scotch and the cowboy were side by side gazing at +the fire. + +I suppose his bravery and watchful spirit may be instinct inherited +from his famous forbears who lived so long and so cheerfully on +Scotland's heaths and moors. But, with all due respect for inherited +qualities, he also has a brain that does a little thinking and meets +emergencies promptly and ably. + +He took serious objection to the coyotes which howled, serenaded, and +made merry in the edge of the meadow about a quarter of a mile from my +cabin. Just back of their howling-ground was a thick forest of pines, +in which were scores of broken rocky crags. Into the tangled forest +the coyotes always retreated when Scotch gave chase, and into this +retreat he dared not pursue them. So long as the coyotes sunned +themselves, kept quiet, and played, Scotch simply watched them +contentedly from afar; but the instant they began to howl and yelp, he +at once raced over and chased them into the woods. They often yelped +and taunted him from their safe retreat, but Scotch always took pains +to lie down on the edge of the open and remain there until they became +quiet or went away. + +During the second winter that Scotch was with me and before he was two +years of age, one of the wily coyotes showed a tantalizing spirit and +some interesting cunning which put Scotch on his mettle. One day when +Scotch was busy driving the main pack into the woods, one that trotted +lame with the right fore leg emerged from behind a rocky crag at the +edge of the open and less than fifty yards from Scotch. Hurrying to +a willow clump about fifty yards in Scotch's rear, he set up a broken +chorus of yelps and howls, seemingly with delight and to the great +annoyance of Scotch, who at once raced back and chased the noisy +taunter into the woods. + +The very next time that Scotch was chasing the pack away, the crippled +coyote again sneaked from behind the crag, took refuge behind the +willow clump, and began delivering a perfect shower of broken yelps. +Scotch at once turned back and gave chase. Immediately the entire pack +wheeled from retreat and took up defiant attitudes in the open, but +this did not seem to trouble Scotch; he flung himself upon them with +great ferocity, and finally drove them all back into the woods. +However, the third time that the cunning coyote had come to his rear, +the entire pack stopped in the edge of the open and, for a time, +defied him. He came back from this chase panting and tired and +carrying every expression of worry. It seemed to prey upon him to +such an extent that I became a little anxious about him. + +One day, just after this affair, I went for the mail, and allowed +Scotch to go with me. I usually left him at the cabin, and he stayed +unchained and was faithful, though it was always evident that he was +anxious to go with me and also that he was exceedingly lonely when +left behind. But on this occasion he showed such eagerness to go that +I allowed him the pleasure. + +At the post-office he paid but little attention to the dogs which, +with their masters, were assembled there, and held himself aloof from +them, squatting on the ground with head erect and almost an air of +contempt for them, but it was evident that he was watching their every +move. When I started homeward, he showed great satisfaction by leaping +and barking. + +That night was wildly stormy, and I concluded to go out and enjoy the +storm on some wind-swept crags. Scotch was missing and I called him, +but he did not appear, so I went alone. After being tossed by the wind +for more than an hour, I returned to the cabin, but Scotch was still +away. This had never occurred before, so I concluded not to go to bed +until he returned. He came home after daylight, and was accompanied by +another dog,--a collie, which belonged to a rancher who lived about +fifteen miles away. I remembered to have seen this dog at the +post-office the day before. My first thought was to send the dog home, +but I finally concluded to allow him to remain, to see what would come +of his presence, for it was apparent that Scotch had gone for him. He +appropriated Scotch's bed in the tub, to the evident satisfaction of +Scotch. During the morning the two played together in the happiest +possible manner for more than an hour. At noon I fed them together. + +In the afternoon, while I was writing, I heard the varied voices of +the coyote pack, and went out with my glass to watch proceedings, +wondering how the visiting collie would play his part. There went +Scotch, as I supposed, racing for the yelping pack, but the visiting +collie was not to be seen. The pack beat the usual sullen, scattering +retreat, and while the dog, which I supposed to be Scotch, was chasing +the last slow tormenter into the woods, from behind the crag came the +big limping coyote, hurrying toward the willow clump from behind which +he was accustomed to yelp triumphantly in Scotch's rear. I raised the +glass for a better look, all the time wondering where the visiting +collie was keeping himself. I was unable to see him, yet I recollected +he was with Scotch less than an hour before. + +The lame coyote came round the willow clump as usual, and threw up his +head as though to bay at the moon. Then the unexpected happened. On +the instant, Scotch leaped into the air out of the willow clump, and +came down upon the coyote's back! They rolled about for some time, +when the coyote finally shook himself free and started at a lively +limping pace for the woods, only to be grabbed again by the visiting +collie, which had been chasing the pack, and which I had mistaken for +Scotch. The pack beat a swift retreat. For a time both dogs fought +the coyote fiercely, but he at last tore himself free, and escaped +into the pines, badly wounded and bleeding. I never saw him again. +That night the visiting collie went home. As Scotch was missing that +night for a time, I think he may have accompanied him at least a part +of the way. + +One day a young lady from Michigan came along and wanted to climb +Long's Peak all alone, without a guide. I agreed to consent to this +if first she would climb one of the lesser peaks unaided, on a stormy +day. This the young lady did, and by so doing convinced me that she +had a keen sense of direction and an abundance of strength, for the +day on which she climbed was a stormy one, and the peak was completely +befogged with clouds. After this, there was nothing for me to do but +allow her to climb Long's Peak alone. + +Just as she was starting, that cool September morning, I thought to +provide for an emergency by sending Scotch with her. He knew the trail +well and would, of course, lead her the right way, providing she lost +the trail. "Scotch," said I, "go with this young lady, take good care +of her, and stay with her till she returns. Don't you desert her." He +gave a few barks of satisfaction and started with her up the trail, +carrying himself in a manner which indicated that he was both honored +and pleased. I felt that the strength and alertness of the young lady, +when combined with the faithfulness and watchfulness of Scotch, would +make the journey a success, so I went about my affairs as usual. When +darkness came on that evening, the young lady had not returned. + +She climbed swiftly until she reached the rocky alpine moorlands above +timber-line. Here she lingered long to enjoy the magnificent scenery +and the brilliant flowers. It was late in the afternoon when she +arrived at the summit of the peak. After she had spent a little time +there resting and absorbing the beauty and grandeur of the scene, she +started to return. She had not proceeded far when clouds and darkness +came on, and on a slope of slide-rock she lost the trail. + +Scotch had minded his own affairs and enjoyed himself in his own way +all day long. Most of the time he followed her closely, apparently +indifferent to what happened, but when she, in the darkness, left the +trail and started off in the wrong direction, he at once came forward, +and took the lead with an alert, aggressive air. The way in which he +did this should have suggested to the young lady that he knew what he +was about, but she did not appreciate this fact. She thought he had +become weary and wanted to run away from her, so she called him back. +Again she started in the wrong direction; this time Scotch got in +front of her and refused to move. She pushed him out of the way. Once +more he started off in the right direction, and this time she scolded +him and reminded him that his master had told him not to desert her. +Scotch dropped his ears and sheepishly fell in behind her and followed +meekly along. He had obeyed orders. + +After traveling a short distance, the young lady realized that she had +lost her way, but it never occurred to her that she had only to trust +Scotch and he would lead her directly home. However, she had the good +sense to stop where she was, and there, among the crags, by the +stained remnants of winter's snow, thirteen thousand feet above +sea-level, she was to spend the night. The cold wind blew a gale, +roaring and booming among the crags, the alpine brooklet turned to +ice, while, in the lee of the crag, shivering with cold, hugging +shaggy Scotch in her arms, she lay down for the night. + +I had given my word not to go in search of her if she failed to +return. However, I sent out four guides to look for her. They suffered +much from cold as they vainly searched among the crags through the +dark hours of the windy night. Just at sunrise one of them found her, +almost exhausted, but, with slightly frost-bitten fingers, still +hugging Scotch in her arms. He gave her food and drink and additional +wraps, and without delay started with her down the trail. As soon as +she was taken in charge by the guide, patient Scotch left her and +hurried home. He had saved her life. + +Scotch's hair is long and silky, black with a touch of tawny about the +head and a little bar of white on the nose. He has the most expressive +and pleasing dog's face I have ever seen. There is nothing he enjoys +so well as to have some one kick the football for him. For an hour at +a time he will chase it and try to get hold of it, giving an +occasional eager, happy bark. He has good eyes, and these, with his +willingness to be of service, have occasionally made him useful to me +in finding articles which I, or some one else, had forgotten or lost +on the trail. Generally it is difficult to make him understand just +what has been lost or where he is to look for it, but when once he +understands, he keeps up the search, sometimes for hours if he does +not find the article before. He is always faithful in guarding any +object that I ask him to take care of. I have but to throw down a coat +and point at it, and he will at once lie down near by, there to remain +until I come to dismiss him. He will allow no one else to touch it. +His attitude never fails to convey the impression that he would die +in defense of the thing intrusted to him, but desert it or give it +up, never! + +One February day I took Scotch and started up Long's Peak, hoping to +gain its wintry summit. Scotch easily followed in my snowshoe-tracks. +At an altitude of thirteen thousand feet on the wind-swept steeps +there was but little snow, and it was necessary to leave snowshoes +behind. After climbing a short distance on these icy slopes, I became +alarmed for the safety of Scotch. By and by I had to cut steps in the +ice. This made the climb too perilous for him, as he could not realize +the danger he was in should he miss a step. There were places where +slipping from these steps meant death, so I told Scotch to go back. I +did not, however, tell him to watch my snowshoes, for so dangerous was +the climb that I did not know that I should ever get back to them +myself. However, he went to the snowshoes, and with them he remained +for eight cold hours until I came back by the light of the stars. + +On a few occasions I allowed Scotch to go with me on short winter +excursions. He enjoyed these immensely, although he had a hard time +of it and but very little to eat. When we camped among the spruces in +the snow, he seemed to enjoy sitting by my side and silently watching +the evening fire, and he contentedly cuddled with me to keep warm +at night. + +[Illustration: THE CLOUD-CAPPED CONTINENTAL DIVIDE] + +One cold day we were returning from a four days' excursion when, a +little above timber-line, I stopped to take some photographs. To do +this it was necessary for me to take off my sheepskin mittens, which I +placed in my coat-pocket, but not securely, as it proved. From time to +time, as I climbed to the summit of the Continental Divide, I stopped +to take photographs, but on the summit the cold pierced my silk gloves +and I felt for my mittens, to find that one of them was lost. I +stooped, put an arm around Scotch, and told him I had lost a mitten, +and that I wanted him to go down for it to save me the trouble. "It +won't take you very long, but it will be a hard trip for me. Go and +fetch it to me." Instead of starting off hurriedly, willingly, as he +had invariably done before in obedience to my commands, he stood +still. His alert, eager ears drooped, but no other move did he make. +I repeated the command in my most kindly tones. At this, instead of +starting down the mountain for the mitten, he slunk slowly away toward +home. It was clear that he did not want to climb down the steep icy +slope of a mile to timber-line, more than a thousand feet below. I +thought he had misunderstood me, so I called him back, patted him, and +then, pointing down the slope, said, "Go for the mitten, Scotch; I +will wait here for you." He started for it, but went unwillingly. He +had always served me so cheerfully that I could not understand, and it +was not until late the next afternoon that I realized that he had not +understood me, but that he had loyally, and at the risk of his life, +tried to obey me. + +The summit of the Continental Divide, where I stood when I sent him +back, was a very rough and lonely region. On every hand were broken +snowy peaks and rugged canons. My cabin, eighteen miles away, was the +nearest house to it, and the region was utterly wild. I waited a +reasonable time for Scotch to return, but he did not come back. +Thinking he might have gone by without my seeing him, I walked some +distance along the summit, first in one direction and then in the +other, but, seeing neither him nor his tracks, I knew that he had not +yet come back. As it was late in the afternoon, and growing colder, +I decided to go slowly on toward my cabin. I started along a route that +I felt sure he would follow, and I reasoned that he would overtake me. +Darkness came on and still no Scotch, but I kept going forward. For +the remainder of the way I told myself that he might have got by me +in the darkness. + +When, at midnight, I arrived at the cabin, I expected to be greeted by +him, but he was not there. I felt that something was wrong and feared +that he had met with an accident. I slept two hours and rose, but +still he was missing, so I concluded to tie on my snowshoes and go +to meet him. The thermometer showed fourteen below zero. + +I started at three o'clock in the morning, feeling that I should meet +him without going far. I kept going on and on, and when, at noon, +I arrived at the place on the summit from which I had sent him back, +Scotch was not there to cheer the wintry, silent scene. + +I slowly made my way down the slope, and at two in the afternoon, +twenty-four hours after I had sent Scotch back, I paused on a crag and +looked below. There in the snowy world of white he lay by the mitten +in the snow. He had misunderstood me, and had gone back to guard the +mitten instead of to get it. He could hardly contain himself for joy +when he saw me. He leaped into the air, barked, jumped, rolled over, +licked my hand, whined, grabbed the mitten, raced round and round me, +and did everything that an alert, affectionate, faithful dog could do +to show that he appreciated my appreciation of his supremely faithful +services. + +After waiting for him to eat a luncheon, we started merrily towards +home, where we arrived at one o'clock in the morning. Had I not +returned, I suppose Scotch would have died beside the mitten. In a +region cold, cheerless, oppressive, without food, and perhaps to die, +he lay down by the mitten because he understood that I had told him +to. In the annals of dog heroism, I know of no greater deed. + + + + +Bob and Some Other Birds + + +Birds are plentiful on the Rockies, and the accumulating information +concerning them may, in a few years, accredit Colorado with having +more kinds of birds than any other State. The mountains and plains of +Colorado carry a wide range of geographic conditions,--a variety of +life-zones,--and in many places there is an abundance of bird-food of +many kinds. These conditions naturally produce a large variety of +birds throughout the State. + +Notwithstanding this array of feathered inhabitants, most tourists who +visit the West complain of a scarcity of birds. But birds the Rockies +have, and any bird-student could tell why more of them are not seen by +tourists. The loud manners of most tourists who invade the Rockies +simply put the birds to flight. When I hear the approach of tourists +in the wilds, I feel instinctively that I should fly for safety +myself. "Our little brothers of the air" the world over dislike the +crowd, and will linger only for those who come with deliberation +and quiet. + +This entire mountain-section, from foothills to mountain-summits, +is enlivened in nesting-time with scores of species of birds. Low +down on the foothills one will find Bullock's oriole, the red-headed +woodpecker, the Arkansas kingbird, and one will often see, and more +often hear, the clear, strong notes of the Western meadowlark ringing +over the hills and meadows. The wise, and rather murderous, magpie +goes chattering about. Here and there the quiet bluebird is seen. The +kingfisher is in his appointed place. Long-crested jays, Clarke's +crows, and pigmy nuthatches are plentiful, and the wild note of the +chickadee is heard on every hand. Above the altitude of eight thousand +feet you may hear, in June, the marvelous melody of Audubon's hermit +thrush. + +Along the brooks and streams lives the water-ouzel. This is one of the +most interesting and self-reliant of Rocky Mountain birds. It loves +the swift, cool mountain-streams. It feeds in them, nests within reach +of the splash of their spray, closely follows their bent and sinuous +course in flight, and from an islanded boulder mingles its liquid song +with the music of the moving waters. There is much in the life of the +ouzel that is refreshing and inspiring. I wish it were better known. + +Around timber-line in summer one may hear the happy song of the +white-throated sparrow. Here and above lives the leucosticte. Far +above the vanguard of the brave pines, where the brilliant flowers +fringe the soiled remnants of winter's drifted snow, where sometimes +the bees hum and the painted butterflies sail on easy wings, the +broad-tailed hummingbird may occasionally be seen, while still higher +the eagles soar in the quiet bending blue. On the heights, sometimes +nesting at an altitude of thirteen thousand feet, is found the +ptarmigan, which, like the Eskimo, seems supremely contented in the +land of crags and snows. + +Of all the birds on the Rockies, the one most marvelously eloquent is +the solitaire. I have often felt that everything stood still and that +every beast and bird listened while the matchless solitaire sang. The +hermit thrush seems to suppress one, to give one a touch of reflective +loneliness; but the solitaire stirs one to be up and doing, gives +one the spirit of youth. In the solitaire's song one feels all the +freshness and the promise of spring. The song seems to be born of ages +of freedom beneath peaceful skies, of the rhythm of the universe, of a +mingling of the melody of winds and waters and of all rhythmic sounds +that murmur and echo out of doors and of every song that Nature sings +in the wild gardens of the world. I am sure I have never been more +thoroughly wide awake and hopeful than when listening to the +solitaire's song. The world is flushed with a diviner atmosphere, +every object carries a fresher significance, there are new thoughts +and clear, calm hopes sure to be realized on the enchanted fields of +the future. I was camping alone one evening in the deep solitude +of the Rockies. The slanting sun-rays were glowing on St. Vrain's +crag-crowned hills and everything was at peace, when, from a near-by +treetop came the triumphant, hopeful song of a solitaire, and I forgot +all except that the world was young. One believes in fairies when the +solitaire sings. Some of my friends have predicted that I shall some +time meet with an accident and perish in the solitudes alone. If their +prediction should come true, I shall hope it will be in the +summer-time, while the flowers are at their best, and that during my +last conscious moments I shall hear the melody of the solitaire +singing as I die with the dying day. + +I sat for hours in the woods one day, watching a pair of chickadees +feeding their young ones. There were nine of these hungry midgets, +and, like nine small boys, they not only were always hungry, but were +capable of digesting everything. They ate spiders and flies, green +worms, ants, millers, dirty brown worms, insect-eggs by the dozen, +devil's-darning-needles, woodlice, bits of lichen, grasshoppers, and +I know not how many other things. I could not help thinking that when +one family of birds destroyed such numbers of injurious insects, if +all the birds were to stop eating, the insects would soon destroy +every green tree and plant on earth. + +One of the places where I used to camp to enjoy the flowers, the +trees, and the birds was on the shore of a glacier lake. Near the lake +were eternal snows, rugged gorges, and forests primeval. To its shore, +especially in autumn, came many bird callers. I often screened myself +in a dense clump of fir trees on the north shore to study the manners +of birds which came near. To help attract and detain them, I scattered +feed on the shore, and I spent interesting hours and days in my +hiding-place enjoying the etiquette of birds at feast and frolic. + +I was lying in the sun, one afternoon, just outside my fir clump, +gazing out across the lake, when a large black bird alighted on the +shore some distance around the lake. "Surely," I said to myself, "that +is a crow." A crow I had not seen or heard of in that part of the +country. I wanted to call to him that he was welcome to eat at my +free-lunch counter, when it occurred to me that I was in plain sight. +Before I could move, the bird rose in the air and started flying +leisurely toward me. I hoped he would see, or smell, the feed and +tarry for a time; but he rose as he advanced, and as he appeared to +be looking ahead, I had begun to fear he would go by without stopping, +when he suddenly wheeled and at the same instant said "Hurrah," as +distinctly as I have ever heard it spoken, and dropped to the feed. +The clearness, energy, and unexpectedness of his "Hurrah" startled +me. He alighted and began to eat, evidently without suspecting my +presence, notwithstanding the fact that I lay only a few feet away. +Some days before, a mountain lion had killed a mountain sheep; a part +of this carcass I had dragged to my bird table. Upon this the crow, +for such he was, alighted and fed ravenously for some time. Then he +paused, straightened up, and took a look about. His eye fell on me, +and instantly he squatted as if to hurl himself in hurried flight, but +he hesitated, then appeared as if starting to burst out with "Caw" or +some such exclamation, but changed his mind and repressed it. Finally +he straightened and fixed himself for another good look at me. I did +not move, and my clothes must have been a good shade of protective +coloring, for he seemed to conclude that I was not worth considering. +He looked straight at me for a few seconds, uttered another "Hurrah," +which he emphasized with a defiant gesture, and went on energetically +eating. In the midst of this, something alarmed him, and he flew +swiftly away and did not come back. Was this crow a pet that had +concluded to strike out for himself? Or had his mimicry or his habit +of laying hold of whatever pleased him caused him to appropriate this +word from bigger folk? + +Go where you will over the Rockies and the birds will be with you. One +day I spent several hours on the summit of Long's Peak, and while +there twelve species of birds alighted or passed near enough for me to +identify them. One of these birds was an eagle, another a hummingbird. + +[Illustration: PTARMIGAN] + +On a June day, while the heights were more than half covered with +winter's snow, I came across the nest of a ptarmigan near a drift and +at an altitude of thirteen thousand feet above sea-level. The +ptarmigan, with their home above tree-line, amid eternal snows, are +wonderfully self-reliant and self-contained. The ouzel, too, is +self-poised, indifferent to all the world but his brook, and +showing an appreciation for water greater, I think, than that of any +other landsman. These birds, the ptarmigan and the ouzel, along with +the willow thrush, who sings out his melody amid the shadows of the +pines, who puts his woods into song,--these birds of the mountains are +with me when memory takes me back a solitary visitor to the lonely +places of the Rockies. + +The birds of the Rockies, as well as the bigger folk who live there, +have ways of their own which distinguish them from their kind in the +East. They sing with more enthusiasm, but with the same subtle tone +that everywhere tells that all is right with the world, and makes all +to the manner born glad to be alive. + +Nothing delights me more than to come across a person who is +interested in trees; and I have long thought that any one who +appreciates trees or birds is one who is either good or great, or +both. I consider it an honor to converse with one who knows the birds +and the trees, and have more than once gone out of my way to meet one +of those favored mortals. I remember one cold morning I came down off +the mountains and went into a house to get warm. Rather I went in to +scrape an acquaintance with whomsoever could be living there who +remembered the birds while snow and cold prevailed,--when Nature +forgot. To get warm was a palpable excuse. I was not cold; I had no +need to stop; I simply wanted to meet the people who had, on this day +at least, put out food and warm water for the birds; but I have ever +since been glad that I went in, for the house shielded from the +cold a family whom it is good to know, and, besides making their +acquaintance, I met "Bob" and heard her story. + +Every one in the house was fond of pets. Rex, a huge St. Bernard, +greeted me at the door, and with a show of satisfaction accompanied me +to a chair near the stove. In going to the chair some forlorn +snowbirds, "that Sarah had found nearly frozen while out feeding the +birds this morning," hopped out of my way. As I sat down, I noticed an +old sack on the floor against the wall before me. All at once this +sack came to life, had an idea, or was bewitched, I thought. Anyway it +became so active that it held my attention for several seconds, and +gave me a little alarm. I was relieved when out of it tumbled an +aggressive rooster, which advanced a few steps, flapped, and crowed +lustily. "He was brought in to get thawed out; I suppose you will next +be wondering where we keep the pig," said my hostess as she advanced +to stir the fire, after which she examined "two little cripples," +birds in a box behind the stove. + +I moved to a cooler seat, by a door which led into an adjoining room. +After I had sat down, "Bob," a pet quail, came from somewhere, and +advanced with the most serene and dignified air to greet me. After +pausing to eye me for a moment, with a look of mingled curiosity and +satisfaction, she went under my chair and squatted confidingly on the +floor. Bob was the first pet quail I had ever seen, and my questions +concerning her brought from my hostess the following story:-- + +"One day last fall a flock of quail became frightened, and in their +excited flight one struck against a neighbor's window and was badly +stunned. My husband, who chanced to be near at the time, picked up the +injured one and brought it home. My three daughters, who at times had +had pet horses, snakes, turtles, and rats, welcomed this shy little +stranger and at once set about caring for her injuries. Just before +"Bob" had fully recovered, there came a heavy fall of snow, which was +followed by such a succession of storms that we concluded to keep her +with us, provided she was willing to stay. We gave her the freedom of +the house. For some time she was wild and shy; under a chair or the +lounge she would scurry if any one approached her. Plainly, she did +not feel welcome or safe in our house, and I gave up the idea of +taming her. One day, however, we had lettuce for dinner, and while we +were at the table Sarah, my eldest daughter, who has a gift for taming +and handling wild creatures, declared that Bob should eat out of her +hand before night. All that afternoon she tempted her with bits of +lettuce, and when evening came, had succeeded so well that never after +was Bob afraid of us. Whenever we sat down for a meal, Bob would come +running and quietly go in turn to each with coaxing sounds and +pleading looks, wanting to be fed. It was against the rules to feed +her at meals, but first one, then another, would slip something to +her under the table, trying at the same time to appear innocent. The +girls have always maintained that their mother, who made the rule, was +the first one to break it. No one could resist Bob's pretty, dainty, +coaxing ways. + +"She is particularly fond of pie-crust, and many a time I have found +the edge picked off the pie I had intended for dinner. Bob never fails +to find a pie, if one is left uncovered. I think it is the shortening +in the pie-crust that gives it the delicious flavor, for lard she +prefers above all of her many foods. She cares least of all for grain. +My daughters say that Bob's fondness for graham gems accounts for the +frequency of their recent appearances on our table. + +"After trying many places, Bob at last found a roosting-place that +suited her. This was in a leather collar-box on the bureau, where +she could nestle up close to her own image in the mirror. Since +discovering this place she has never failed to occupy it at night. +She is intelligent, and in so many ways pleasing that we are greatly +attached to her." + +Here I had to leave Bob and her good friends behind; but some months +afterward my hostess of that winter day told me the concluding +chapters of Bob's life. + +"Bob disliked to be handled; though pleasing and irresistibly winsome, +she was not in the least affectionate, and always maintained a +dignified, ladylike reserve. But with the appearance of spring she +showed signs of lonesomeness. With none of her kind to love, she +turned to Rex and on him lavished all of her affection. When Rex was +admitted to the house of a morning, she ran to meet him with a joyful +cackle,--an utterance she did not use on any other occasion,--and with +soft cooing sounds she followed him about the house. If Rex appeared +bored with her attentions and walked away, she followed after, and +persisted in tones that were surely scolding until he would lie down. +Whenever he lay with his huge head between his paws, she would nestle +down close to his face and remain content so long as he was quiet. +Sometimes when he was lying down she would climb slowly over him; at +each step she would put her foot down daintily, and as each foot +touched him there was a slight movement of her head and a look of +satisfaction. These climbs usually ended by her scratching in the +long hair of his tail, and then nestling down into it. + +"One day I was surprised to see her kiss Rex. When I told my family of +this, they laughed heartily and were unable to believe me. Later, we +all witnessed this pretty sight many times. She seemed to prefer to +kiss him when he was lying down, with his head raised a little above +the floor. Finding him in this position, she would walk beside him, +reach up and kiss his face again and again, all the time cooing softly +to him. + +"Toward spring Bob's feathers became dull and somewhat ragged, and +with the warm days came our decision to let her go outside. She was +delighted to scratch in the loose earth around the rosebushes, and +eagerly fed on the insects she found there. Her plumage soon took on +its natural trimness and freshness. She did not show any inclination +to leave, and with Rex by her or near her, we felt that she was safe +from cats, so we soon allowed her to remain out all day long. + +"Passers-by often stopped to watch Bob and Rex playing together. +Sometimes he would go lumbering across the yard while she, plainly +displeased at the fast pace, hurried after with an incessant scolding +chatter as much as to say: 'Don't go so fast, old fellow. How do you +expect me to keep up?' Sometimes, when Rex was lying down eating a +bone, she would stand on one of his fore legs and quietly pick away +at the bone. + +"The girls frequently went out to call her, and did so by whistling +'Bob White.' She never failed to answer promptly, and her response +sounded like _chee chos, chee chos_, which she uttered before +hurrying to them. + +"One summer morning I found her at the kitchen door waiting to be let +out. I opened the door and watched her go tripping down the steps. +When she started across the yard I cautioned her to 'be a little lady, +and don't get too far away.' Rex was away that morning, and soon one +of the girls went out to call her. Repeated calls brought no answer. +We all started searching. We wondered if the cat had caught her, or if +she had been lured away by the winning calls of her kind. Beneath a +cherry tree near the kitchen door, just as Rex came home, we found +her, bloody and dead. Rex, after pushing her body tenderly about with +his nose, as if trying to help her to rise, looked up and appealed +piteously to us. We buried her beneath the rosebush near which she +and Rex had played." + + + + +Kinnikinick + + +The kinnikinick is a plant pioneer. Often it is the first plant to +make a settlement or establish a colony on a barren or burned-over +area. It is hardy, and is able to make a start and thrive in places so +inhospitable as to afford most plants not the slightest foothold. In +such places the kinnikinick's activities make changes which alter +conditions so beneficially that in a little while plants less hardy +come to join the first settler. The pioneer work done by the +kinnikinick on a barren and rocky realm has often resulted in the +establishment of a flourishing forest there. + +The kinnikinick, or _Arctostaphylos Uva-Ursi_, as the botanists name +it, may be called a ground-loving vine. Though always attractive, it +is in winter that it is at its best. Then its bright green leaves +and red berries shine among the snow-flowers in a quiet way that is +strikingly beautiful. + +Since it is beautiful as well as useful, I had long admired this +ever-cheerful, ever-spreading vine before I appreciated the good +though humble work it is constantly doing. I had often stopped to +greet it,--the only green thing upon a rock ledge or a sandy +stretch,--had walked over it in forest avenues beneath tall and +stately pines, and had slept comfortably upon its spicy, elastic +rugs, liking it from the first. But on one of my winter tramps I +fell in love with this beautiful evergreen. + +The day was a cold one, and the high, gusty wind was tossing and +playing with the last snow-fall. I had been snowshoeing through the +forest, and had come out upon an unsheltered ridge that was a part +of a barren area which repeated fires had changed from a forested +condition to desert. The snow lay several feet deep in the woods, but +as the gravelly distance before me was bare, I took off my snowshoes. +I went walking, and at times blowing, along the bleak ridge, scarcely +able to see through the snow-filled air. But during a lull the air +cleared of snow-dust and I paused to look about me. The wind still +roared in the distance, and against the blue eastern sky it had a +column of snow whirling that was dazzling white in the afternoon sun. +On my left a mountain rose with easy slope to crag-crowned heights, +and for miles swept away before me with seared side barren and dull. +A few cloudlets of snowdrifts and a scattering of mere tufts of snow +stood out distinctly on this big, bare slope. + +I wondered what could be holding these few spots of snow on this +wind-swept slope. I finally went up to examine one of them. Thrust out +and lifted just above the snow of the tuft before me was the jeweled +hand of a kinnikinick; and every snow-deposit on the slope was held +in place by the green arms of this plant. Here was this beautiful +vinelike shrub gladly growing on a slope that had been forsaken by all +other plants. + +To state the situation fairly, all had been burned off by fire and +Kinnikinick was the first to come back, and so completely had fires +consumed the plant-food that many plants would be unable to live here +until better conditions prevailed and the struggle for existence was +made less severe. Kinnikinick was making the needed changes; in time +it would prepare the way, and other plants, and the pines too, would +come back to carpet and plume the slope and prevent wind and water +from tearing and scarring the earth. + +The seeds of Kinnikinick are scattered by birds, chipmunks, wind, and +water. I do not know by what agency the seeds had come to this slope, +but here were the plants, and on this dry, fire-ruined, sun-scorched, +wind-beaten slope they must have endured many hardships. Many must +have perished before these living ones had made a secure start +in life. + +Once Kinnikinick has made a start, it is constantly assisted to +succeed by its own growing success. Its arms catch and hold snow, and +this gives a supply of much-needed water. This water is snugly stored +beneath the plant, where but little can be reached or taken by the sun +or the thirsty winds. The winds, too, which were so unfriendly while +it was trying to make a start, now become helpful to the brave, +persistent plant. Every wind that blows brings something to it,--dust, +powdered earth, trash, the remains of dead insects; some of this +material is carried for miles. All goes to form new soil, or to +fertilize or mulch the old. This supplies Kinnikinick's great needs. +The plant grows rich from the constant tribute of the winds. The +soil-bed grows deeper and richer and is also constantly outbuilding +and enlarging, and Kinnikinick steadily increases its size. + +In a few years a small oasis is formed in, or rather on, the barren. +This becomes a place of refuge for seed wanderers,--in fact, a +nursery. Up the slope I saw a young pine standing in a kinnikinick +snow-cover. In the edge of the snow-tuft by me, covered with a robe of +snow, I found a tiny tree, a mere baby pine. Where did this pine come +from? There were no seed-bearing pines within miles. How did a pine +seed find its way to this cosy nursery? Perhaps the following is its +story: The seed of this little pine, together with a score or more of +others, grew in a cone out near the end of the pine-tree limb. This +pine was on a mountain several miles from the fire-ruined slope, when +one windy autumn day some time after the seeds were ripe, the cone +began to open its fingers and the seeds came dropping out. The seed +of this baby tree was one of these, and when it tumbled out of the +cone the wind caught it, and away it went over trees, rocks, and +gulches, whirling and dancing in the autumn sunlight. After tumbling a +few miles in this wild flight, it came down among some boulders. Here +it lay until, one very windy day, it was caught up and whirled away +again. Before long it was dashed against a granite cliff and fell to +the ground; but in a moment, the wind found it and drove it, with a +shower of trash and dust, bounding and leaping across a barren slope, +plump into this kinnikinick nest. From this shelter the wind could not +drive it. Here the little seed might have said, "This is just the +place I was looking for; here is shelter from the wind and sun; the +soil is rich and damp; I am so tired, I think I'll take a sleep." When +the little seed awoke, it wore the green dress of the pine family. +The kinnikinick's nursery had given it a start in life. + +Under favorable conditions Kinnikinick is a comparatively rapid +grower. Its numerous vinelike limbs--little arms--spread or reach +outward from the central root, take a new hold upon the earth, and +prepare to reach again. The ground beneath it in a little while is +completely hidden by its closely crowding leafy arms. In places these +soft, pliable rugs unite and form extensive carpets. Strip off these +carpets and often all that remains is a barren exposure of sand or +gravel on bald or broken rocks, whose surfaces and edges have been +draped or buried by its green leaves and red berries. + +In May kinnikinick rugs become flower-beds. Each flower is a +narrow-throated, pink-lipped, creamy-white jug, and is filled with a +drop of exquisitely flavored honey. The jugs in a short time change to +smooth purple berries, and in autumn they take on their winter dress +of scarlet. When ripe the berries taste like mealy crab-apples. I have +often seen chipmunks eating the berries, or apples, sitting up with +the fruit in both their deft little hands, and eating it with such +evident relish that I frequently found myself thinking of these +berries as chipmunk's apples. + +Kinnikinick is widely distributed over the earth, and is most often +found on gravelly slopes or sandy stretches. Frequently you will find +it among scattered pines, trying to carpet their cathedral floor. +Many a summer day I have lain down and rested on these flat and fluffy +forest rugs, while between the tangled tops of the pines I looked at +the blue of the sky or watched the white clouds so serenely floating +there. Many a summer night upon these elastic spreads I have lain +and gazed at the thick-sown stars, or watched the ebbing, fading +camp-fire, at last to fall asleep and to rest as sweetly and serenely +as ever did the Scotchman upon his heathered Highlands. Many a morning +I have awakened late after a sleep so long that I had settled into the +yielding mass and Kinnikinick had put up an arm, either to shield my +face with its hand, or to show me, when I should awaken, its pretty +red berries and bright green leaves. + +[Illustration: SUMMER AT AN ALTITUDE OF 12,000 FEET] + +One morning, while visiting in a Blackfoot Indian camp, I saw the +men smoking kinnikinick leaves, and I asked if they had any legend +concerning the shrub. I felt sure they must have a fascinating story +of it which told of the Great Spirit's love for Kinnikinick, but they +had none. One of them said he had heard the Piute Indians tell why +the Great Spirit had made it, but he could not remember the account. +I inquired among many Indians, feeling that I should at last learn a +happy legend concerning it, but in vain. One night, however, by my +camp-fire, I dreamed that some Alaska Indians told me this legend:-- + +Long, long ago, Kinnikinick was a small tree with brown berries and +broad leaves which dropped to the ground in autumn. One year a great +snow came while the leaves were still on, and all trees were flattened +upon the ground by the weight of the clinging snow. All broad-leaved +trees except Kinnikinick died. When the snow melted, Kinnikinick was +still alive, but pressed out upon the ground, crushed so that it could +not rise. It started to grow, however, and spread out its limbs on the +surface very like a root growth. The Great Spirit was so pleased with +Kinnikinick's efforts that he decided to let it live on in its new +form, and also that he would send it to colonize many places where it +had never been. He changed its berries from brown to red, so that the +birds could see its fruit and scatter its seeds far and wide. Its +leaves were reduced in size and made permanently green, so that +Kinnikinick, like the pines it loves and helps, could wear green +all the time. + +Whenever I see a place that has been made barren and ugly by the +thoughtlessness of man, I like to think of Kinnikinick, for I know +it will beautify these places if given a chance to do so. There are +on earth millions of acres now almost desert that may some time be +changed and beautified by this cheerful, modest plant. Some time many +bald and barren places in the Rockies will be plumed with pines, +bannered with flowers, have brooks, butterflies, and singing +birds,--all of these, and homes, too, around which children will +play,--because of the reclaiming work which will be done by charming +Kinnikinick. + + + + +The Lodge-Pole Pine + + +The trappers gave the Lodge-Pole Pine (_Pinus contorta_, var. +_Murrayana_) its popular name on account of its general use by Indians +of the West for lodge or wigwam poles. It is a tree with an unusually +interesting life-story, and is worth knowing for the triumphant +struggle which it makes for existence, and also for the commercial +importance which, at an early date, it seems destined to have. Perhaps +its most interesting and advantageous characteristic is its habit of +holding or hoarding its seed-harvests. + +Lodge-pole is also variously called Tamarack, Murray, and Two-leaved +Pine. Its yellow-green needles are in twos, and are from one to three +inches in length. Its cones are about one inch in diameter at the base +and from one to two inches long. Its light-gray or cinnamon-gray bark +is thin and scaly. + +In a typical lodge-pole forest the trees, or poles, stand closely +together and all are of the same age and of even size. Seedlings +and saplings are not seen in an old forest. This forest covers the +mountains for miles, growing in moist, dry, and stony places, claims +all slopes, has an altitudinal range of four thousand feet, and almost +entirely excludes all other species from its borders. + +[Illustration: A TYPICAL LODGE-POLE FOREST] + +The hoarding habit of this tree, the service rendered it by forest +fires, the lightness of the seeds and the readiness with which they +germinate on dry or burned-over areas, its ability to grow in a +variety of soils and climates, together with its capacity to thrive in +the full glare of the sun,--all these are factors which make this tree +interesting, and which enable it, despite the most dangerous forest +enemy, fire, to increase and multiply and extend its domains. + +During the last fifty years this aggressive, indomitable tree has +enormously extended its area, and John Muir is of the opinion that, +"as fires are multiplied and the mountains become drier, this +wonderful lodge-pole pine bids fair to obtain possession of nearly all +the forest ground in the West." Its geographical range is along the +Rocky Mountains from Alaska to New Mexico, and on the Pacific coast +forests of it are, in places, found from sea-level to an altitude of +eleven thousand feet. On the Rockies it flourishes between the +altitudes of seven thousand and ten thousand feet. It is largely +represented in the forests of Colorado, Utah, Idaho, and Montana, +and it has extensive areas in Oregon and Washington. It is the most +numerous tree in Wyoming, occupying in Yellowstone Park a larger area +than all other trees combined, while in California it forms the bulk +of the alpine forests. + +The lodge-pole readily adapts itself to the most diverse soil and +conditions, but it thrives best where there is considerable moisture. +The roots accommodate themselves to shallow soil, and thrive in it. + +This tree begins to bear fruit at an early age, sometimes when only +eight years old, and usually produces large quantities of cones +annually. The cones sometimes open and liberate the seeds as soon as +they are ripe, but commonly they remain on the tree for years, with +their seeds carefully sealed and protected beneath the scales. So far +as I have observed, the trees on the driest soil cling longest to +their seeds. For an old lodge-pole to have on its limbs twenty crops +of unopened cones is not uncommon. Neither is it uncommon to see an +extensive lodge-pole forest each tree of which has upon it several +hundred, and many of the trees a few thousand, cones, and in each cone +a few mature seeds. Most of these seeds will never have a chance to +make a start in life except they be liberated by fire. In fact, most +lodge-pole seeds are liberated by fire. The reproduction of this pine +is so interwoven with the effects of the forest fires that one may +safely say that most of the lodge-pole forests and the increasing +lodge-pole areas are the result of forest fires. + +Every lodge-pole forest is a fire-trap. The thin, scaly, pitchy bark +and the live resiny needles on the tree, as well as those on the +ground, are very inflammable, and fires probably sweep a lodge-pole +forest more frequently than any other in America. When this forest +is in a sapling stage, it is very likely to be burned to ashes. If, +however, the trees are beyond the sapling stage, the fire probably +will consume the needles, burn some of the bark away, and leave the +tree, together with its numerous seed-filled cones, unconsumed. As a +rule, the fire so heats the cones that most of them open and release +their seeds a few hours, or a few days, after the fire. If the area +burned over is a large one, the fire loosens the clasp of the +cone-scales and millions of lodge-pole seeds are released to be sown +by the great eternal seed-sower, the wind. These seeds are thickly +scattered, and as they germinate readily in the mineral soil, enormous +numbers of them sprout and begin to struggle for existence. I once +counted 84,322 young trees on an acre. + +The trees often stand as thick as wheat in a field and exclude all +other species. Their growth is slow and mostly upright. They early +become delicate miniature poles, and often, at the age of twenty-five +or thirty years, good fishing-poles. In their crowded condition, the +competition is deadly. Hundreds annually perish, but this tree clings +tenaciously to life, and starving it to death is not easy. In the +summer of 1895 I counted 24,271 thirty-year-old lodge-poles upon an +acre. Ten years later, 19,040 of these were alive. It is possible +that eighty thousand, or even one hundred thousand, seedlings started +upon this acre. Sometimes more than half a century is required for +the making of good poles. + +On the Grand River in Colorado I once measured a number of poles that +averaged two inches in diameter at the ground and one and one half +inches fifteen feet above it. These poles averaged forty feet high and +were sixty-seven years of age. Others of my notes read: "9728 trees +upon an acre. They were one hundred and three years of age, two to six +inches in diameter, four and a half feet from the ground, and from +thirty to sixty feet high, at an altitude of 8700 feet. Soil and +moisture conditions were excellent. On another acre there were 4126 +trees one hundred and fifty-four years old, together with eleven young +Engelmann spruces and one _Pinus flexilis_ and eight Douglas firs. The +accumulation of duff, mostly needles, averaged eight inches deep, and, +with the exception of one bunch of kinnikinick, there was neither +grass nor weed, and only tiny, thinly scattered sun-gold reached the +brown matted floor." + +After self-thinning has gone on for a hundred years or so, the ranks +have been so thinned that there are openings sufficiently large to +allow other species a chance to come in. By this time, too, there is +sufficient humus on the floor to allow the seeds of many other species +to germinate. Lodge-pole thus colonizes barren places, holds them for +a time, and so changes them that the very species dispossessed by fire +may regain the lost territory. Roughly, the lodge-pole will hold the +ground exclusively from seventy-five to one hundred and fifty years, +then the invading trees will come triumphantly in and, during the next +century and a half, will so increase and multiply that they will +almost exclude the lodge-pole. Thus Engelmann spruce and Douglas fir +are now growing where lodge-pole flourished, but let fire destroy this +forest and lodge-pole will again claim the territory, hold it against +all comers for a century or two, and then slowly give way to or be +displaced by the spruces and firs. + +The interesting characteristic of holding its cones and hoarding seeds +often results in the cones being overgrown and embedded in the trunk +or the limbs of the trees. As the cones hug closely the trunk or the +limbs, it is not uncommon for the saw, when laying open a log at the +mill, to reveal a number of cones embedded there. I have in my cabin a +sixteen-foot plank that is two inches in diameter and six inches wide, +which came out of a lodge-pole tree. Embedded in this are more than a +score of cones. Probably most of these cones were of the first crop +which the tree produced, for they clung along the trunk of the tree +and grew there when it was about an inch and a quarter in diameter. +The section upon which these cones grew was between fifteen and +twenty-five feet from the ground. + +The seeds of most conifers need vegetable mould, litter, or vegetation +cover of some kind in which to germinate, and then shade for a time in +which to grow. These requirements so needed by other conifer seeds and +seedlings are detrimental to the lodge-pole. If its seeds fall on +areas lightly covered with low huckleberry vines, but few of them will +germinate. A lodge-pole seed that germinates in the shade is doomed. +It must have sunlight or die. In the ashes of a forest fire, in the +full glare of the sun, the seeds of the lodge-pole germinate, grow, +and flourish. + +Wind is the chief agency which enables the seeds to migrate. The seeds +are light, and I know of one instance where an isolated tree on a +plateau managed to scatter its seeds by the aid of the wind over a +circular area fifty acres in extent, though a few acres is all that +is reached by the average tree. Sometimes the wind scatters the seeds +unevenly. If most of the seeds are released in one day, and the wind +this day prevails from the same quarter, the seeds will take but one +course from the tree; while changing winds may scatter them quite +evenly all around the tree. + +A camping party built a fire against a lone lodge-pole. The tree was +killed and suffered a loss of its needles from the fire. Four years +later, a long green pennant, tattered at the end and formed of +lodge-pole seedlings, showed on the mountain-side. This pennant began +at the tree and streamed out more than seven hundred feet. Its width +varied from ten to fifty feet. + +The action of a fire in a lodge-pole forest is varied. If the forest +be an old one, even with much rubbish on the ground the heat is not +so intense as in a young growth. Where trees are scattered the flames +crawl from tree to tree, the needles of which ignite like flash-powder +and make beautiful rose-purple flames. At night fires of this kind +furnish rare fireworks. Each tree makes a fountain of flame, after +which, for a moment, every needle shines like incandescent silver, +while exquisite light columns of ashen green smoke float above. The +hottest fire I ever experienced was made by the burning of a +thirty-eight-year lodge-pole forest. In this forest the poles stood +more than thirty feet high, and were about fifteen thousand to an +acre. They stood among masses of fallen trees, the remains of a spruce +forest that had been killed by the same fire which had given this +lodge-pole forest a chance to spring up. Several thousand acres were +burned, and for a brief time the fire traveled swiftly. I saw it roll +blazing over one mountain-side at a speed of more than sixty miles an +hour. It was intensely hot, and in a surprisingly short time the +flames had burned every log, stump, and tree to ashes. Several hundred +acres were swept absolutely bare of trees, living and dead, and the +roots too were burned far into the ground. + +Several beetles prey upon the lodge-pole, and in some localities the +porcupine feeds off its inner bark. It is also made use of by man. The +wood is light, not strong, with a straight, rather coarse grain. It is +of a light yellow to nearly white, or pinkish white, soft, and easily +worked. In the West it is extensively used for lumber, fencing, fuel, +and log houses, and millions of lodge-pole railroad-ties are annually +put to use. + +Most lodge-poles grow in crowded ranks, and slow growth is the result, +but it is naturally a comparatively rapid grower. In good, moist soil, +uncrowded, it rapidly builds upward and outward. I have more than a +score of records that show that it has made a quarter of an inch +diameter growth annually, together with an upright growth of more than +twelve inches, and also several notes which show where trees standing +in favorable conditions have made half an inch diameter growth +annually. This fact of its rapid growth, together with other valuable +characteristics and qualities of the tree, may lead it to be selected +by the government for the reforestation of millions of acres of +denuded areas in the West. In many places on the Rockies it would, if +given a chance, make commercial timber in from thirty to sixty years. + +I examined a lodge-pole in the Medicine Bow Mountains that was scarred +by fire. It was two hundred and fourteen years of age. It took one +hundred and seventy-eight years for it to make five inches of diameter +growth. In the one hundred and seventy-eighth ring of annual growth +there was a fire-scar, and during the next thirty-six years it put on +five more inches of growth. It is probable, therefore, that the fire +destroyed the neighboring trees, which had dwarfed and starved it and +thus held it in check. I know of scores of cases where lodge-poles +grew much more rapidly, though badly fire-scarred, after fires had +removed their hampering competitors. + +There are millions of acres of young lodge-pole forests in the West. +They are almost as impenetrable as canebrakes. It would greatly +increase the rate of growth if these trees were thinned, but it is +probable that this will not be done for many years. Meantime, +if these forests be protected from fire, they will be excellent +water-conservers. When the snows or the rains fall into the lodge-pole +thickets, they are beyond the reach of the extra dry winds. If they +are protected, the water-supply of the West will be protected; and if +they are destroyed, the winds will evaporate most of the precipitation +that falls upon their areas. + +I do not know of any tree that better adjusts itself to circumstances, +or that struggles more bravely or successfully. I am hopeful that +before many years the school-children of America will be well +acquainted with the Lodge-Pole Pine, and I feel that its interesting +ways, its struggles, and its importance will, before long, be +appreciated and win a larger place in our literature and also in +our hearts. + + + + +Rocky Mountain Forests + + +It is stirring to stand at the feet of the Rocky Mountains and look +upward and far away over the broken strata that pile and terrace +higher and higher, until, at a distance of twenty-five or thirty +miles, they stand a shattered and snowy horizon against the blue. The +view is an inspiring one from the base, but it gives no idea that this +mountain array is a magnificent wild hanging-garden. Across the +terraced and verdure-plumed garden the eternal snows send their clear +and constant streams, to leap in white cascades between crowning crags +and pines. Upon the upper slopes of this garden are many mirrored +lakes, ferny, flowery glens, purple forests, and crag-piled meadows. + +If any one were to start at the foothills in Colorado, where one of +the clear streams comes sweeping out of the mountains to go quietly +across the wide, wide plains, and from this starting-place climb to +the crest of this terraced land of crags, pines, ferns, and flowers, +he would, in so doing, go through many life-zones and see numerous +standing and moving life-forms, all struggling, yet seemingly all +contented with life and the scenes wherein they live and struggle. + +The broad-leaf cottonwood, which has accompanied the streams across +the plains, stops at the foothills, and along the river in the +foothills the narrow-leaf cottonwood (_Populus angustifolia_) crowds +the water's edge, here and there mingling with red-fruited hawthorns +and wild plums (_Prunus Americana_). A short distance from the stream +the sumac stands brilliant in the autumn, and a little farther away +are clumps of greasewood and sagebrush and an occasional spread +of juniper. Here and there are some forlorn-looking red cedars and a +widely scattered sprinkling of stunted yellow pines (_Pinus scopulorum_). + +At an altitude of six thousand feet the yellow pine acquires true tree +dignity and begins to mass itself into forests. When seen from a +distance its appearance suggests the oak. It seems a trifle rigid, +appears ready to meet emergencies, has a look of the heroic, and +carries more character than any other tree on the Rockies. Though a +slender and small-limbed tree in youth, after forty or fifty years it +changes slowly and becomes stocky, strong-limbed, and rounded at the +top. Lightning, wind, and snow break or distort its upper limbs so +that most of these veteran pines show a picturesquely broken top, with +a towering dead limb or two among the green ones. Its needles are in +bundles of both twos and threes, and they vary from three to eight +inches in length. The tree is rich in resin, and a walk through its +groves on an autumn day, when the sun shines bright on its clean +golden columns and brings out its aroma, is a walk full of contentment +and charm. The bark is fluted and blackish-gray in youth, and it +breaks up into irregular plates, which on old trees frequently are +five inches or more in thickness. This bark gives the tree excellent +fire-protection. + +The yellow pine is one of the best fire-fighters and lives long. I +have seen many of the pines that were from sixty to ninety feet high, +with a diameter of from three to five feet. They were aged from two +hundred and fifty to six hundred years. Most of the old ones have +lived through several fires. I dissected a fallen veteran that grew +on the St. Vrain watershed, at an altitude of eight thousand feet, +that was eighty-five feet high and fifty-one inches in diameter five +feet from the ground. It showed six hundred and seventy-nine annual +rings. During the first three hundred years of its life it averaged an +inch of diameter growth every ten years. It had been through many +forest fires and showed large fire-scars. One of these it received at +the age of three hundred and thirty-nine years. It carried another +scar which it received two hundred and sixteen years before its death; +another which it received in 1830; and a fourth which it received +fourteen years before it blew over in the autumn of 1892. All of these +fire-scars were on the same quarter of the tree. All were on that part +of the tree which overlooked the down-sloping hillside. + +Forest fires, where there is opportunity, sweep up the mountain-side +against the lower side of the trees. The lower side is thus often +scarred while the opposite side is scarcely injured; but wind blowing +down the gulch at the time of each fire may have directed the flames +against the lower side of this tree. In many places clusters of young +trees were growing close to the lower side of the old trees, and were +enabled to grow there by light that came in from the side. It may be +that the heat from one of the blazing clusters scarred this old pine; +then another young cluster may have grown, to be in time also +consumed. But these scars may have resulted, wholly or in part, from +other causes. + +Yellow pine claims the major portion of the well-drained slopes, +except those that are northerly, in the middle mountain-zone up to +the lower lodge-pole margin. A few groves are found higher than nine +thousand feet. Douglas spruce covers many of the northerly slopes +that lie between six thousand and nine thousand feet. + +The regularity of tree-distribution over the mountains is to me a +never-failing source of interest. Though the various species of trees +appear to be growing almost at random, yet each species shows a +decided preference for peculiar altitude, soil, temperature, and +moisture conditions. It is an interesting demonstration of tree +adaptability to follow a stream which comes out of the west, in the +middle mountain-zone, and observe how unlike the trees are which +thrive on opposite sides. On the southerly slopes that come down to +the water is an open forest of yellow pine, and on the opposite side, +the south bank, a dense forest of Douglas spruce. If one be told the +altitude, the slope, and the moisture conditions of a place on the +Rockies, he should, if acquainted with the Rockies, be able to name +the kinds of trees growing there. Some trees grow only in moist +places, others only in dry places, some never below or above a certain +altitude. Indeed, so regular is the tree-distribution over the Rockies +that I feel certain, if I were to awaken from a Rip Van Winkle sleep +in the forests on the middle or upper slopes of these mountains, I +could, after examining a few of the trees around me, tell the points +of the compass, the altitude above sea-level, and the season of +the year. + +[Illustration: ASPENS] + +At an altitude of about sixty-five hundred feet cottonwood, which has +accompanied the streams from the foothills, begins to be displaced by +aspen. The aspen (_Populus tremuloides_) is found growing in +groups and groves from this altitude up to timber-line, usually in the +moister places. To me the aspen is almost a classic tree, and I have +met it in so many places that I regard it almost as an old friend. It +probably rivals the juniper in being the most widely distributed tree +on the North American continent. It also vies with the lodge-pole pine +in quickness of taking possession of burned-over areas. Let a moist +place be burned over and the aspen will quickly take possession, and +soon establish conditions which will allow conifers to return. This +the conifers do, and in a very short time smother the aspens that made +it possible for them to start in life. The good nursery work of aspens +is restricted pretty closely to damp places. + +Besides being a useful tree, the bare-legged little aspen with its +restless and childlike ways is a tree that it is good to know. When +alone, these little trees seem lonely and sometimes to tremble as +though just a little afraid in this big strange world. But generally +the aspen is not alone. Usually you find a number of little aspens +playing together, with their leaves shaking, jostling, and +jumping,--moving all the time. If you go near a group and stop to +watch them, they may, for an instant, pause to glance at you, then +turn to romp more merrily than before. And they have other childlike +ways besides bare legs and activity. On some summer day, if you wish +to find these little trees, look for them where you would for your own +child,--wading the muddiest place to be found. They like to play in +the swamps, and may often be seen in a line alongside a brook with +toes in the water, as though looking for the deepest place before +wading in. + +One day I came across a party of merry little aspens who were in a +circle around a grand old pine, as though using the pine for a maypole +to dance around. It was in autumn, and each little aspen wore its +gayest colors. Some were in gowns of new-made cloth-of-gold. The +grizzled old pine, like an old man in the autumn of his life, looked +down as though honored and pleased with the happy little ones who +seemed so full of joy. I watched them for a time and went on across +the mountains; but I have long believed in fairies, so the next day I +went back to see this fairyland and found the dear little aspens still +shaking their golden leaves, while the old pine stood still in the +sunlight. + +Along the streams, between the altitudes of sixty-five hundred and +eighty-five hundred feet, one finds the Colorado blue or silver +spruce. This tree grows in twos or threes, occasionally forming a +small grove. Usually it is found growing near a river or brook, +standing closely to a golden-lichened crag, in surroundings which +emphasize its beauty of form and color. With its fluffy silver-tipped +robe and its garlands of cones it is the handsomest tree on the +Rockies. It is the queen of these wild gardens. Beginning at the +altitude where the silver spruce ceases is the beautiful balsam fir +(_Abies lasiocarpa_). The balsam fir is generally found in company +with the alders or the silver spruce near a brook. It is strikingly +symmetrical and often forms a perfect slender cone. The balsam fir and +the silver spruce are the evergreen poems of the wild. They get into +one's heart like the hollyhock. Several years ago the school-children +of Colorado selected by vote a State flower and a State tree. Although +more than fifty flowers received votes, two thirds of all the votes +went to the Rocky Mountain columbine. When it came to selecting a +tree, every vote was cast for the silver spruce. + +Edwinia, with its attractive waxy white flowers, and potentilla, with +bloom of gold, are shrubs which lend a charm to much of the +mountain-section. Black birch and alder trim many of the streams, +and the mountain maple is thinly scattered from the foothills to nine +thousand feet altitude. Wild roses are frequently found near the +maple, and gooseberry bushes fringe many a brook. Huckleberries +flourish on the timbered slopes, and kinnikinick gladdens many a +gravelly stretch or slope. + +[Illustration: A GROVE OF SILVER SPRUCE] + +Between the altitudes of eight thousand and ten thousand feet there +are extensive forests of the indomitable lodge-pole pine. This borders +even more extensive forests of Engelmann spruce. Lodge-pole touches +timber-line in a few places, and Engelmann spruce climbs up to it in +every canon or moist depression. Along with these, at timber-line, are +_flexilis_ pine, balsam fir, arctic willow, dwarf black birch, and the +restless little aspen. All timber-line trees are dwarfed and most +of them distorted. Conditions at timber-line are severe, but the +presence, in places, of young trees farthest up the slopes suggests +that these severe conditions may be developing hardier trees than any +that now are growing on this forest frontier. If this be true, then +timber-line on the Rockies is yet to gain a higher limit. + +Since the day of "Pike's Peak or bust," fires have swept over more +than half of the primeval forest area in Colorado. Some years ago, +while making special efforts to prevent forest fires from starting, I +endeavored to find out the cause of these fires. I regretfully found +that most of them were the result of carelessness, and I also made a +note to the effect that there are few worse things to be guilty of +than carelessly setting fire to a forest. Most of these forest fires +had their origin from camp-fires which the departing campers had left +unextinguished. There were sixteen fires in one summer, which I +attributed to the following causes: campers, nine; cigar, one; +lightning, one; locomotive, one; stockmen, two; sheep-herders, one; +and sawmill, one. + +Fires have made the Rocky Mountains still more rocky. In many places +the fires burn their way to solid rock. In other places the humus, or +vegetable mould, is partly consumed by fire, and the remainder is in a +short time blown away by wind or washed away by water. Fires often +leave only blackened granite rock behind, so that in many places they +have not only consumed the forests, but also the food upon which the +new forests might have fed. Many areas where splendid forests grew, +after being fire-swept, show only barren granite. As some of the +granite on the Rockies disintegrates slowly, it will probably require +several hundred years for Nature to resoil and reforest some of these +fire-scarred places. However, upon thousands of acres of the Rockies +millions of young trees are just beginning to grow, and if these trees +be protected from fire, a forest will early result. + +I never see a little tree bursting from the earth, peeping confidently +up among the withered leaves, without wondering how long it will live +or what trials or triumphs it will have. I always hope that it will +find life worth living, and that it will live long to better and to +beautify the earth. I hope it will love the blue sky and the white +clouds passing by. I trust it will welcome all seasons and ever join +merrily in the music, the motion, and the movement of the elemental +dance with the winds. I hope it will live with rapture in the +flower-opening days of spring and also enjoy the quiet summer rain. +I hope it will be a home for the birds and hear their low, sweet +mating-songs. I trust that when comes the golden peace of autumn days, +it will be ready with fruited boughs for the life to come. I never +fail to hope that if this tree is cut down, it may be used for a +flagpole to keep our glorious banner in the blue above, or that it may +be built into a cottage where love will abide; or if it must be burnt, +that it will blaze on the hearthstone in a home where children play +in the firelight on the floor. + +In many places the Rockies rise more than three thousand feet above +the heights where live the highest struggling trees at timber-line, +but these steep alpine slopes are not bare. The rocks are tinted with +lichens. In places are miles of grassy slopes and miniature meadows, +covered with coarse sedges and bright tender flowers. Among the +shrubs the _Betula glandulosa_ is probably commonest, while _Dasiphora +fruticosa_ and _Salix chlorophylla_ are next in prominence. Here and +there you will see the golden gaillardia, the silver and blue +columbines, splendid arrays of sedum, many marsh-marigolds, lungworts, +paint-brushes of red and white and yellow green, beds of purple +primroses, sprinklings of alpine gentians, many clusters of +live-forever, bunches of honey-smelling valerian, with here and there +standing the tall stalks of fraseria, or monument-plant. There are +hundreds of other varieties of plants, and the region above +timber-line holds many treasures that are dear to those who love +flowers and who appreciate them especially where cold and snow keep +them tiny. + +Above timber-line are many bright blossoms that are familiar to us, +but dwarfed to small size. One needs to get down and lie upon the +ground and search carefully with a magnifying-glass, or he will +overlook many of these brave bright but tiny flowers. Here are blue +gentians less than half an inch in height, bell-flowers only a trifle +higher, and alpine willows so tiny that their catkins touch the +ground. One of the most attractive and beautiful of these alpine +flowers is the blue honeysuckle or polemonium, about an inch in +height. I have found it on mountain-tops, in its fresh, clear +coloring, at an altitude of fourteen thousand feet, as serene as +the sky above it. + +A climb up the Rockies will develop a love for nature, strengthen +one's appreciation of the beautiful world outdoors, and put one in +tune with the Infinite. It will inspire one with the feeling that the +Rockies have a rare mountain wealth of their own. They are not to be +compared with the Selkirks or the Alps or any other unlike range of +mountains. The Rockies are not a type, but an individuality, +singularly rich in mountain scenes which stir one's blood and which +strengthen and sweeten life. + + + + +Besieged by Bears + + +Two old prospectors, Sullivan and Jason, once took me in for the +night, and after supper they related a number of interesting +experiences. Among these tales was one of the best bear-stories I have +ever heard. The story was told in the graphic, earnest, realistic +style so often possessed by those who have lived strong, stirring +lives among crags and pines. Although twenty years had gone by, these +prospectors still had a vivid recollection of that lively night when +they were besieged by three bears, and in recounting the experience +they mingled many good word-pictures of bear behavior with their +exciting and amusing story. "This happened to us," said Sullivan, "in +spite of the fact that we were minding our own business and had never +hunted bears." + +The siege occurred at their log cabin during the spring of 1884. They +were prospecting in Geneva Park, where they had been all winter, +driving a tunnel. They were so nearly out of supplies that they could +not wait for snowdrifts to melt out of the trail. Provisions must be +had, and Sullivan thought that, by allowing twice the usual time, he +could make his way down through the drifts and get back to the cabin +with them. So one morning, after telling Jason that he would be back +the next evening, he took their burro and set off down the mountain. +On the way home next day Sullivan had much difficulty in getting the +loaded burro through the snowdrifts, and when within a mile of the +cabin, they stuck fast. Sullivan unpacked and rolled the burro out of +the snow, and was busily repacking, when the animal's uneasiness made +him look round. + +[Illustration: OURAY, COLORADO + +A typical mining town] + +In the edge of the woods, only a short distance away, were three +bears, apparently a mother and her two well-grown children. They were +sniffing the air eagerly and appeared somewhat excited. The old bear +would rise on her hind paws, sniff the air, then drop back to the +ground. She kept her nose pointed toward Sullivan, but did not appear +to look at him. The smaller bears moved restlessly about; they +would walk a few steps in advance, stand erect, draw their fore paws +close to their breasts, and sniff, sniff, sniff the air, upward and +in all directions before them. Then they would slowly back up to the +old bear. They all seemed very good-natured. + +When Sullivan was unpacking the burro, the wrapping had come off two +hams which were among the supplies, and the wind had carried the +delicious aroma to the bears, who were just out of their winter dens +after weeks of fasting. Of course, sugar-cured hams smelled good to +them. Sullivan repacked the burro and went on. The bears quietly eyed +him for some distance. At a turn in the trail he looked back and saw +the bears clawing and smelling the snow on which the provisions had +lain while he was getting the burro out of the snowdrift. He went on +to the cabin, had supper, and forgot the bears. + +The log cabin in which he and Jason lived was a small one; it had a +door in the side and a small window in one end. The roof was made of +a layer of poles thickly covered with earth. A large shepherd-dog often +shared the cabin with the prospectors. He was a playful fellow, and +Sullivan often romped with him. Near their cabin were some vacant +cabins of other prospectors, who had "gone out for the winter" and +were not yet back for summer prospecting. + +The evening was mild, and as soon as supper was over Sullivan filled +his pipe, opened the door, and sat down on the edge of the bed for a +smoke, while Jason washed the dishes. He had taken only a few pulls at +his pipe when there was a rattling at the window. Thinking the dog was +outside, Sullivan called, "Why don't you go round to the door?" This +invitation was followed by a momentary silence, then smash! a piece of +sash and fragments of window-glass flew past Sullivan and rattled on +the floor. He jumped to his feet. In the dim candle-light he saw a +bear's head coming in through the window. He threw his pipe of burning +tobacco into the bear's face and eyes, and then grabbed for some steel +drills which lay in the corner on the floor. The earth roof had +leaked, and the drills were ice-covered and frozen fast to the floor. + +While Sullivan was dislodging the drills, Jason began to bombard the +bear vigorously with plates from the table. The bear backed out; she +was looking for food, not clean plates. However, the instant she was +outside, she accepted Sullivan's invitation and went round to the +door! And she came for it with a rush! Both Sullivan and Jason jumped +to close the door. They were not quick enough, and instead of one bear +there were three! The entire family had accepted the invitation, and +all were trying to come in at once! + +When Sullivan and Jason threw their weight against the door it slammed +against the big bear's nose,--a very sensitive spot. She gave a savage +growl. Apparently she blamed the two other bears either for hurting +her nose or for being in the way. At any rate, a row started; halfway +in the door the bears began to fight; for a few seconds it seemed as +if all the bears would roll inside. Sullivan and Jason pushed against +the door with all their might, trying to close it. During the struggle +the bears rolled outside and the door went shut with a bang. The heavy +securing cross-bar was quickly put into place; but not a moment too +soon, for an instant later the old bear gave a furious growl and flung +herself against the door, making it fairly crack; it seemed as if the +door would be broken in. Sullivan and Jason hurriedly knocked their +slab bed to pieces and used the slats and heavy sides to prop and +strengthen the door. The bears kept surging and clawing at the door, +and while the prospectors were spiking the braces against it and +giving their entire attention to it, they suddenly felt the cabin +shake and heard the logs strain and give. They started back, to see +the big bear struggling in the window. Only the smallness of the +window had prevented the bear from getting in unnoticed, and +surprising them while they were bracing the door. The window was so +small that the bear in trying to get in had almost wedged fast. With +hind paws on the ground, fore paws on the window-sill, and shoulders +against the log over the window, the big bear was in a position to +exert all her enormous strength. Her efforts to get in sprung the logs +and gave the cabin the shake which warned. + +Sullivan grabbed one of the steel drills and dealt the bear a terrible +blow on the head. She gave a growl of mingled pain and fury as she +freed herself from the window. Outside she backed off growling. + +For a little while things were calmer. Sullivan and Jason, drills in +hand, stood guard at the window. After some snarling in front of the +window the bears went round to the door. They clawed the door a few +times and then began to dig under it. "They are tunneling in for us," +said Sullivan. "They want those hams; but they won't get them." + +After a time the bears quit digging and started away, occasionally +stopping to look hesitatingly back. It was almost eleven o'clock, and +the full moon shone splendidly through the pines. The prospectors +hoped that the bears were gone for good. There was an old rifle in +the cabin, but there were no cartridges, for Sullivan and Jason never +hunted and rarely had occasion to fire a gun. But, fearing that the +animals might return, Sullivan concluded to go to one of the vacant +cabins for a loaded Winchester which he knew to be there. + +As soon as the bears disappeared, he crawled out of the window and +looked cautiously around; then he made a run for the vacant cabin. +The bears heard him running, and when he had nearly reached the cabin, +they came round the corner of it to see what was the matter. He was up +a pine tree in an instant. After a few growls the bears moved off and +disappeared behind a vacant cabin. As they had gone behind the cabin +which contained the loaded gun, Sullivan thought it would be dangerous +to try to make the cabin, for if the door should be swelled fast, the +bears would surely get him. Waiting until he thought it safe to +return, he dropped to the ground and made a dash for his own cabin. +The bears heard him and again gave chase, with the evident intention +of getting even for all their annoyances. It was only a short distance +to his cabin, but the bears were at his heels when he dived in through +the broken window. + +A bundle of old newspapers was then set on fire and thrown among the +bears, to scare them away. There was some snarling, until one of the +young bears with a stroke of a fore paw scattered the blazing papers +in all directions; then the bears walked round the cabin-corner out +of sight and remained quiet for several minutes. + +Just as Jason was saying, "I hope they are gone for good," there came +a thump on the roof which told the prospectors that the bears were +still intent on the hams. The bears began to claw the earth off the +roof. If they were allowed to continue, they would soon clear off the +earth and would then have a chance to tear out the poles. With a few +poles torn out, the bears would tumble into the cabin, or perhaps +their combined weight might cause the roof to give way and drop them +into the cabin. Something had to be done to stop their clawing and if +possible get them off the roof. Bundles of hay were taken out of the +bed mattress. From time to time Sullivan would set fire to one of +these bundles, lean far out through the window, and throw the blazing +hay upon the roof among the bears. So long as he kept these fireworks +going, the bears did not dig; but they stayed on the roof and became +furiously angry. The supply of hay did not last long, and as soon as +the annoyance from the bundles of fire ceased, the bears attacked the +roof again with renewed vigor. + +Then it was decided to prod the bears with red-hot drills thrust up +between the poles of the roof. As there was no firewood in the cabin, +and as fuel was necessary in order to heat the drills, a part of the +floor was torn up for that purpose. + +The young bears soon found hot drills too warm for them and scrambled +or fell off the roof. But the old one persisted. In a little while she +had clawed off a large patch of earth and was tearing the poles with +her teeth. + +The hams had been hung up on the wall in the end of the cabin; the old +bear was tearing just above them. Jason threw the hams on the floor +and wanted to throw them out of the window. He thought that the bears +would leave contented if they had them. Sullivan thought differently; +he said that it would take six hams apiece to satisfy the bears, and +that two hams would be only a taste which would make the bears more +reckless than ever. The hams stayed in the cabin. + +The old bear had torn some of the poles in two and was madly tearing +and biting at others. Sullivan was short and so were the drills. To +get within easier reach, he placed the table almost under the gnawing +bear, sprang upon it, and called to Jason for a red-hot drill. Jason +was about to hand him one when he noticed a small bear climbing in at +the window, and, taking the drill with him, he sprang over to beat +the bear back. Sullivan jumped down to the fire for a drill, and in +climbing back on the table he looked up at the gnawed hole and +received a shower of dirt in his face and eyes. This made him flinch +and he lost his balance and upset the table. He quickly straightened +the table and sprang upon it, drill in hand. The old bear had a paw +and arm thrust down through the hole between the poles. With a blind +stroke she struck the drill and flung it and Sullivan from the table. +He shouted to Jason for help, but Jason, with both young bears trying +to get in at the window at once, was striking right and left. He had +bears and troubles of his own and did not heed Sullivan's call. The +old bear thrust her head down through the hole and seemed about to +fall in, when Sullivan in desperation grabbed both hams and threw them +out of the window. + +The young bears at once set up a row over the hams, and the old bear, +hearing the fight, jumped off the roof and soon had a ham in her +mouth. + +While the bears were fighting and eating, Sullivan and Jason tore up +the remainder of the floor and barricaded the window. With both door +and window closed, they could give their attention to the roof. All +the drills were heated, and both stood ready to make it hot for the +bears when they should again climb on the roof. But the bears did not +return to the roof. After eating the last morsel of the hams they +walked round to the cabin door, scratched it gently, and then became +quiet. They had lain down by the door. + +It was two o'clock in the morning. The inside of the cabin was in +utter confusion. The floor was strewn with wreckage; bedding, drills, +broken boards, broken plates, and hay were scattered about. Sullivan +gazed at the chaos and remarked that it looked like poor housekeeping. +But he was tired, and, asking Jason to keep watch for a while, he lay +down on the blankets and was soon asleep. + +Toward daylight the bears got up and walked a few times round the +cabin. On each round they clawed at the door, as though to tell +Sullivan that they were there, ready for his hospitality. They whined +a little, half good-naturedly, but no one admitted them, and finally, +just before sunrise, they took their departure and went leisurely +smelling their way down the trail. + + + + +Mountain Parks and Camp-Fires + + +The Rockies of Colorado cross the State from north to south in two +ranges that are roughly parallel and from thirty to one hundred miles +apart. There are a number of secondary ranges in the State that are +just as marked, as high, and as interesting as the main ranges, and +that are in every way comparable with them except in area. The bases +of most of these ranges are from ten to sixty miles across. The +lowlands from which these mountains rise are from five to six thousand +feet above sea-level, and the mountain-summits are from eleven +thousand to thirteen thousand feet above the tides. In the entire +mountain area of the State there are more than fifty peaks that are +upward of fourteen thousand feet in height. Some of these mountains +are rounded, undulating, or table-topped, but for the most part the +higher slopes and culminating summits are broken and angular. +Altogether, the Rocky Mountain area in Colorado presents a delightful +diversity of parks, peaks, forests, lakes, streams, canons, slopes, +crags, and glades. + +On all of the higher summits are records of the ice age. In many +places glaciated rocks still retain the polish given them by the Ice +King. Such rocks, as well as gigantic moraines in an excellent state +of preservation, extend from altitudes of twelve or thirteen thousand +feet down to eight thousand, and in places as low as seven thousand +feet. Some of the moraines are but enormous embankments a few hundred +feet high and a mile or so in length. Many of these are so raw, bold, +and bare, they look as if they had been completed or uncovered within +the last year. Most of these moraines, however, especially those below +timber-line, are well forested. No one knows just how old they are, +but, geologically speaking, they are new, and in all probability were +made during the last great ice epoch, or since that time. Among the +impressive records of the ages that are carried by these mountains, +those made by the Ice King probably stand first in appealing +strangely and strongly to the imagination. + +All the Rocky Mountain lakes are glacier lakes. There are more than a +thousand of these. The basins of the majority of them were excavated +by ice from solid rock. Only a few of them have more than forty acres +of area, and, with the exception of a very small number, they are +situated well up on the shoulders of the mountains and between the +altitudes of eleven thousand and twelve thousand feet. The lower and +middle slopes of the Rockies are without lakes. + +The lower third of the mountains, that is, the foothill section, is +only tree-dotted. But the middle portion, that part which lies between +the altitudes of eight thousand and eleven thousand feet, is covered +by a heavy forest in which lodge-pole pine, Engelmann spruce, and +Douglas spruce predominate. Fire has made ruinous inroads into the +primeval forest which grew here. + +A large portion of the summit-slopes of the mountains is made up of +almost barren rock, in old moraines, glaciated slopes, or broken +crags, granite predominating. These rocks are well tinted with +lichen, but they present a barren appearance. In places above the +altitude of eleven thousand feet the mountains are covered with a +profuse array of alpine vegetation. This is especially true of the +wet meadows or soil-covered sections that are continually watered by +melting snows. + +In the neighborhood of a snowdrift, at an altitude of twelve thousand +feet, I one day gathered in a small area one hundred and forty-two +varieties of plants. Areas of "eternal snows," though numerous, are +small, and with few exceptions, above twelve thousand feet. Here and +there above timber-line are many small areas of moorland, which, both +in appearance and in vegetation, seem to belong in the tundras of +Siberia. + +While these mountains carry nearly one hundred varieties of trees and +shrubs, the more abundant kinds of trees number less than a score. +These are scattered over the mountains between the altitudes of six +thousand and twelve thousand feet, while, charming and enlivening the +entire mountain-section, are more than a thousand varieties of wild +flowers. + +Bird-life is abundant on the Rockies. No State east of the Mississippi +can show as great a variety as Colorado. Many species of birds well +known in the East are found there, though, generally, they are in some +way slightly modified. Most Rocky Mountain birds sound their notes a +trifle more loudly than their Eastern relatives. Some of them are a +little larger, and many of them have their colors slightly +intensified. + +Many of the larger animals thrive on the slopes of the Rockies. Deer +are frequently seen. Bobcats, mountain lions, and foxes leave many +records. In September bears find the choke-cherry bushes and, standing +on their hind legs, feed eagerly on the cherries, leaves, and +good-sized sections of the twigs. The ground-hog apparently manages to +live well, for he seems always fat. There is that wise little fellow +the coyote. He probably knows more than he is given credit for +knowing, and I am glad to say for him that I believe he does man more +good than harm. He is a great destroyer of meadow mice. He digs out +gophers. Sometimes his meal is made upon rabbits or grasshoppers, +and I have seen him feeding upon wild plums. + +There are hundreds of ruins of the beaver's engineering works. +Countless dams and fillings he has made. On the upper St. Vrain he +still maintains his picturesque rustic home. Most of the present +beaver homes are in high, secluded places, some of them at an altitude +of eleven thousand feet. In midsummer, near most beaver homes one +finds columbines, fringed blue gentians, orchids, and lupines +blooming, while many of the ponds are green and yellow with +pond-lilies. + +[Illustration: ESTES PARK AND THE BIG THOMPSON RIVER FROM THE TOP +OF MT. OLYMPUS] + +During years of rambling I have visited and enjoyed all the celebrated +parks of the Rockies, but one, which shall be nameless, is to me the +loveliest of them all. The first view of it never fails to arouse the +dullest traveler. From the entrance one looks down upon an irregular +depression, several miles in length, a small undulating and beautiful +mountain valley, framed in peaks with purple forested sides and +bristling snowy grandeur. This valley is delightfully open, and +has a picturesque sprinkling of pines over it, together with a few +well-placed cliffs and crags. Its swift, clear, and winding brooks are +fringed with birch and willow. A river crosses it with many a slow +and splendid fold of silver. + +Not only is the park enchanting from the distance, but every one of +its lakes and meadows, forests and wild gardens, has a charm and a +grandeur of its own. There are lakes of many kinds. One named for the +painter, now dead, who many times sketched and dreamed on its shores, +is a beautiful ellipse; and its entire edge carries a purple shadow +matting of the crowding forest. Its placid surface reflects peak and +snow, cloud and sky, and mingling with these are the green and gold of +pond-lily glory. Another lake is stowed away in an utterly wild place. +It is in a rent between three granite peaks. Three thousand feet of +precipice bristle above it. Its shores are strewn with wreckage from +the cliffs and crags above, and this is here and there cemented +together with winter's drifted snow. Miniature icebergs float upon its +surface. Around it are mossy spaces, beds of sedge, and scattered +alpine flowers, which soften a little the fierce aspect of this +impressive scene. + +On the western margin of the park is a third lake. This lake and its +surroundings are of the highest alpine order. Snow-line and tree-line +are just above it. Several broken and snowy peaks look down into it, +and splendid spruces spire about its shores. Down to it from the +heights and snows above come waters leaping in white glory. It is the +centre of a scene of wild grandeur that stirs in one strange depths of +elemental feeling and wonderment. Up between the domes of one of the +mountains is Gem Lake. It is only a little crystal pool set in ruddy +granite with a few evergreens adorning its rocky shore. So far as I +know, it is the smallest area of water in the world that bears the +name of lake; and it is also one of the rarest gems of the lakelet +world. + +The tree-distribution is most pleasing, and the groves and forests are +a delight. Aged Western yellow pines are sprinkled over the open areas +of the park. They have genuine character, marked individuality. Stocky +and strong-limbed, their golden-brown bark broken into deep fissures +and plateaus, scarred with storm and fire, they make one think and +dream more than any other tree on the Rockies. By the brooks the clean +and childlike aspens mingle with the willow and the alder or the +handsome silver spruce. Some slopes are spread with the green fleece +of massed young lodge-pole pines, and here and there are groves of +Douglas spruce, far from their better home "where rolls the Oregon." +The splendid and spiry Engelmann spruces climb the stern slopes eleven +thousand feet above the ocean, where weird timber-line with its +dwarfed and distorted trees shows the incessant line of battle between +the woods and the weather. + +Every season nearly one thousand varieties of beautiful wild flowers +come to perfume the air and open their "bannered bosoms to the sun." +Many of these are of brightest color. They crowd the streams, wave on +the hills, shine in the woodland vistas, and color the snow-edge. +Daisies, orchids, tiger lilies, fringed gentians, wild red roses, +mariposas, Rocky Mountain columbines, harebells, and forget-me-nots +adorn every space and nook. + +While only a few birds stay in the park the year round, there are +scores of summer visitors who come here to bring up the babies, and +to enliven the air with song. Eagles soar the blue, and ptarmigan, +pipits, and sparrows live on the alpine moorlands. Thrushes fill the +forest aisles with melody, and by the brooks the ever-joyful +water-ouzel mingles its music with the song of ever-hurrying, +ever-flowing waters. Among the many common birds are owls, +meadowlarks, robins, wrens, magpies, bluebirds, chickadees, +nuthatches, and several members of the useful woodpecker family, +together with the white-throated sparrow and the willow thrush. + +Speckled and rainbow trout dart in the streams. Mountain sheep climb +and pose on the crags; bear, deer, and mountain lions are still +occasionally seen prowling the woods or hurrying across the meadows. +The wise coyote is also seen darting under cover, and is frequently +heard during the night. Here among the evergreens is found that small +and audacious bit of intensely interesting and animated life, the +Douglas squirrel, and also one of the dearest of all small animals, +the merry chipmunk. Along the brooks are a few small beaver colonies, +a straggling remnant of a once numerous population. It is to be hoped +that this picturesque and useful race will be allowed to extend its +domain. + +The park has also a glacier, a small but genuine chip of the old +block, the Ice King. The glacier is well worth visiting, especially +late in summer, when the winter mantle is gone from its crevasses, +leaving revealed its blue-green ice and its many grottoes. It is every +inch a glacier. There are other small glaciers above the Park, but +these glacial remnants, though interesting, are not as imposing as the +glacial records, the old works which were deposited by the Ice King. +The many kinds of moraines here display his former occupation and +activities. There are glaciated walls, polished surfaces, eroded +basins, and numerous lateral moraines. One of the moraines is probably +the largest and certainly one of the most interesting in the Rockies. +It occupies about ten square miles on the eastern slope of the +mountain. Above timber-line this and other moraines seem surprisingly +fresh and new, as though they had been formed only a few years, but +below tree-line they are forested, and the accumulation of humus upon +them shows that they have long been bearers of trees. + +The rugged Peak looks down over all this wild garden, and is a +perpetual challenge to those who go up to the sky on mountains. It is +a grand old granite peak. There are not many mountains that require +more effort from the climber, and few indeed can reward him with such +a far-spreading and magnificent view. + +[Illustration: IN THE UNCOMPAHGRE MOUNTAINS] + +One of the most interesting and impressive localities in the Rockies +lies around Mt. Wetterhorn, Mt. Coxcomb, and Uncompahgre Peak. Here I +have found the birds confiding, and most wild animals so tame that it +was a joy to be with them. But this was years ago, and now most of the +wild animals are wilder and the birds have found that man will not +bear acquaintance. Most of this region was recently embraced in the +Uncompahgre National Forest. It has much for the scientist and +nature-lover: the mountain-climber will find peaks to conquer and +canons to explore; the geologist will find many valuable stone +manuscripts; the forester who interviews the trees will have from +their tongues a story worth while; and here, too, are some of Nature's +best pictures for those who revel only in the lovely and the wild. +It is a strikingly picturesque by-world, where there are many +illuminated and splendid fragments of Nature's story. He who visits +this section will first be attracted by an array of rock-formations, +and, wander where he will, grotesque and beautiful shapes in stone +will frequently attract and interest his attention. + +The rock-formation is made up of mixtures of very unequally tempered +rock metal, which weathers in strange, weird, and impressive shapes. +Much of this statuary is gigantic and uncouth, but some of it is +beautiful. There are minarets, monoliths, domes, spires, and shapeless +fragments. In places there are, seemingly, restive forms not entirely +free from earth. Most of these figures are found upon the crests of +the mountains, and many of the mountain-ridges, with their numerous +spikes and gigantic monoliths, some of which are tilted perilously +from the perpendicular, give one a feeling of awe. Some of the +monoliths appear like broken, knotty tree-trunks. Others stand +straight and suggest the Egyptian obelisks. They hold rude natural +hieroglyphics in relief. One mountain, which is known as Turret-Top, +is crowned with what from a distance seems to be a gigantic +picket-fence. This fence is formed by a row of monolithic stones. + +One of the most remarkable things connected with this strange locality +is that its impressive landscapes may be overturned or blotted out, or +new scenes may be brought forth, in a day. The mountains do not stand +a storm well. A hard rain will dissolve ridges, lay bare new strata, +undermine and overturn cliffs. It seems almost a land of enchantment, +where old landmarks may disappear in a single storm, or an impressive +landscape come forth in a night. Here the god of erosion works +incessantly and rapidly, dissecting the earth and the rocks. During +a single storm a hilltop may dissolve, a mountain-side be fluted with +slides, a grove be overturned and swept away by an avalanche, or a +lake be buried forever. This rapid erosion of slopes and summits +causes many changes and much upbuilding upon their bases. Gulches are +filled, water-courses invaded, rivers bent far to one side, and groves +slowly buried alive. + +One night, while I was in camp on the slope of Mt. Coxcomb, a +prolonged drought was broken by a very heavy rain. Within an hour +after the rain started, a large crag near the top of the peak fell and +came crashing and rumbling down the slope. During the next two hours +I counted the rumbling crash of forty others. I know not how many small +avalanches may have slipped during this time that I did not hear. The +next day I went about looking at the new landscapes and the strata +laid bare by erosion and landslide, and up near the top of this peak +I found a large glaciated lava boulder. A lava boulder that has been +shaped by the ice and has for a time found a resting-place in a +sedentary formation, then been uplifted to near a mountain-top, has a +wonder-story of its own. One day I came across a member of the United +States Geological Survey who had lost his way. At my camp-fire that +evening I asked him to hug facts and tell me a possible story of the +glaciated lava boulder. The following is his account:-- + +The shaping of that boulder must have antedated by ages the shaping of +the Sphinx, and its story, if acceptably told, would seem more like +fancy than fact. If the boulder were to relate, briefly, its +experiences, it might say: "I helped burn forests and strange cities +as I came red-hot from a volcano's throat, and I was scarcely cool +when disintegration brought flowers to cover my dead form. By and by a +long, long winter came, and toward the close of it I was sheared off, +ground, pushed, rolled, and rounded beneath the ice. 'Why are you +grinding me up?' I asked the glacier. 'To make food for the trees and +the flowers during the earth's next temperate epoch,' it answered. One +day a river swept me out of its delta and I rolled to the bottom of +the sea. Here I lay for I know not how long, with sand and boulders +piling upon me. Here heat, weight, and water fixed me in a stratum +of materials that had accumulated below and above me. My stratum was +displaced before it was thoroughly solidified, and I felt myself +slowly raised until I could look out over the surface of the sea. The +waves at once began to wear me, and they jumped up and tore at me +until I was lifted above their reach. At last, when I was many +thousand feet above the waves, I came to a standstill. Then my +mountain-top was much higher than at present. For a long time I looked +down upon a tropical world. I am now wondering if the Ice King will +come for me again." + +The Engelmann spruce forest here is an exceptionally fine one, and the +geologist and I discussed it and trees in general. Some of the Indian +tribes of the Rockies have traditions of a "Big Fire" about four +centuries ago. There is some evidence of a general fire over the +Rockies about the time that the Indian's tradition places it, but in +this forest there were no indications that there had ever been a fire. +Trees were in all stages of growth and decay. Humus was deep. Here I +found a stump of a Douglas spruce that was eleven feet high and about +nine feet in diameter. It was so decayed that I could not decipher the +rings of growth. This tree probably required at least a thousand years +to reach maturity, and many years must have elapsed for its wood to +come to the present state of decay. Over this stump was spread the +limbs of a live tree that was four hundred years of age. + +Trees have tongues, and in this forest I interviewed many patriarchs, +had stories from saplings, examined the mouldy, musty records of many +a family tree, and dug up some buried history. The geologist wanted in +story form a synopsis of what the records said and what the trees told +me, so I gave him this account:-- + +"We climbed in here some time after the retreat of the last Ice King +and found aspen and lodge-pole pine in possession. These trees fought +us for several generations, but we finally drove them out. For ages +the Engelmann spruce family has had undisputed possession of this +slope. We stand amid three generations of mouldering ancestors, and +beneath these is the sacred mould of older generations still. + +[Illustration: A GRASS-PLOT AMONG ENGELMANN SPRUCE] + +"One spring, when most of the present grown-up trees were very young, +the robins, as they flew north, were heard talking of strange men who +were exploring the West Indies. A few years later came the big fire +over the Rockies, which for months choked the sky with smoke. Fire did +not get into our gulch, but from birds and bears which crowded into it +we learned that straggling trees and a few groves on the Rockies were +all that had escaped with their lives. Since we had been spared, we +all sent out our seed for tree-colonies as rapidly as we could, and in +so doing we received much help from the birds, the squirrels, and the +bears, so that it was not long before we again had our plumes waving +everywhere over the Rockies. About a hundred and sixty years ago, an +earthquake shook many of us down and wounded thousands of others with +the rock bombardment from the cliffs. The drought a century ago was +hard on us, and many perished for water. Not long after the drought we +began to see the trappers, but they never did us any harm. Most of +them were as careful of our temples as were the Indians. While the +trappers still roamed, there came a very snowy winter, and snow-slides +mowed us down by thousands. Many of us were long buried beneath the +snow. The old trees became dreadfully alarmed, and they feared that +the Ice King was returning. For weeks they talked of nothing else, but +in the spring, when the mountain-sides began to warm and peel off in +earth-avalanches, we had a real danger to discuss. + +"Shortly after the snowy winter, the gold-seekers came with their +fire havoc. For fifty years we have done our best to hold our ground, +but beyond our gulch relentless fire and flashing steel, together with +the floods with which outraged Nature seeks to revenge herself, have +slain the grand majority, and much, even, of the precious dust of our +ancestors has been washed away." + +With the exception of the night I had the geologist, my days and +nights in this locality were spent entirely alone. The blaze of the +camp-fire, moonlight, the music and movement of the winds, light and +shade, and the eloquence of silence all impressed me more deeply here +than anywhere else I have ever been. Every day there was a delightful +play of light and shade, and this was especially effective on the +summits; the ever-changing light upon the serrated mountain-crests +kept constantly altering their tone and outline. Black and white they +stood in midday glare, but a new grandeur was born when these tattered +crags appeared above storm-clouds. Fleeting glimpses of the crests +through a surging storm arouse strange feelings, and one is at bay, +as though having just awakened amid the vast and vague on another +planet. But when the long, white evening light streams from the west +between the minarets, and the black buttressed crags wear the alpine +glow, one's feelings are too deep for words. + +The wind sometimes flowed like a torrent across the ridges, surging +and ripping between the minarets, then bearing down like an avalanche +upon the purple sylvan ocean, where it tossed the trees with boom, +roar, and wild commotion. I usually camped where it showed the most +enthusiasm. Here I often enjoyed the songs or the fierce activities +of the wind. The absence and the presence of wind ever stirred me +strongly. Weird and strange are the feelings that flow as the winds +sweep and sound through the trees. The Storm King has a bugle at his +lips, and a deep, elemental hymn is sung while the blast surges wild +through the pines. Mother Nature is quietly singing, singing soft and +low while the breezes pause and play in the pines. From the past one +has been ever coming, with the future destined ever to go when, with +centuries of worshipful silence, one waits for the winds in the pines. +Ever the good old world grows better both with songs and with silence +in the pines. + +Here the energy and eloquence of silence was at its best. That +all-pervading presence called silence has its happy home within the +forest. Silence sounds rhythmic to all, and attunes all minds to the +strange message, the rhapsody of the universe. Silence is almost as +kind to mortals as its sweet sister sleep. + +A primeval spruce forest crowds all the mountain-slopes of the +Uncompahgre region from an altitude of eight thousand feet to +timber-line. So dense is this forest that only straggling bits of +sun-fire ever fall to the ground. Beneath these spiry, crowding trees +one has only "the twilight of the forest noon." This forest, when seen +from near-by mountain-tops, seems to be a great ragged, purple robe +hanging in folds from the snow-fields, while down through it the white +streams rush. A few crags pierce it, sun-filled grass-plots dot its +expanse at intervals, and here and there it is rent with a vertical +avalanche lane. + +Many a happy journey and delightful climb I have had in the mountains +all alone by moonlight, and in the Uncompahgre district I had many a +moonlight ramble. I know what it is to be alone on high peaks with the +moon, and I have felt the spell that holds the lonely wanderer when, +on a still night, he feels the wistful, tender touch of the summer +air, while the leaves whisper and listen in the moonlight, and the +moon-toned etchings of the pines fall upon the magic forest floor. + +One of the best moonlit times that I have had in this region was +during my last visit to it. One October night I camped in a grass-plot +in the depths of a spruce forest. The white moon rose grandly from +behind the minareted mountain, hesitated for a moment among the +tree-spires, then tranquilly floated up into space. It was a still +night. There was silence in the treetops. The river near by faintly +murmured in repose. Everything was at rest. The grass-plot was full +of romantic light, and on its eastern margin was an etching of spiry +spruce. A dead and broken tree on the edge of the grass-plot looked +like a weird prowler just out of the woods, and seemed half-inclined +to come out into the light and speak to me. All was still. The moonlit +mist clung fantastically to the mossy festoons of the fir trees. +I was miles from the nearest human soul, and as I stood in the +enchanting scene, amid the beautiful mellow light, I seemed to have +been wafted back into the legend-weaving age. The silence was softly +invaded by zephyrs whispering in the treetops, and a few moonlit +clouds that showed shadow centre-boards came lazily drifting along the +bases of the minarets, as though they were looking for some place in +particular, although in no hurry to find it. Heavier cloud-flotillas +followed, and these floated on the forest sea, touching the treetops +with the gentleness of a lover's hand. I lay down by my camp-fire to +let my fancy frolic, and fairest dreams came on. + +It was while camping once on the slope of Mt. Coxcomb that I felt most +strongly the spell of the camp-fire. I wish every one could have a +night by a camp-fire,--by Mother Nature's old hearthstone. When one +sits in the forest within the camp-fire's magic tent of light, amid +the silent, sculptured trees, there go thrilling through one's blood +all the trials and triumphs of our race. The blazing wood, the ragged +and changing flame, the storms and calms, the mingling smoke and +blaze, the shadow-figures that dance against the trees, the scenes and +figures in the fire,--with these, though all are new and strange, yet +you feel at home once more in the woods. A camp-fire in the forest is +the most enchanting place on life's highway by which to have a lodging +for the night. + + + + +Index + + + Alma, 119, 127. + + _Arctostaphylos Uva-Ursi_. _See_ Kinnikinick. + + Aspen, 204-206, 208. + + + Bears, vapor from a bear, 20; + a bear and her cubs, 79; + prospectors besieged by, 217-229; + feeding on choke-cherries, 237. + + Beaver, 238, 242; + usefulness of, 53; + cutting trees, 54-56; + young, 56-58; + houses of, 57; + granary of, 58; + tools of, 58, 59; + dam-building, 59, 60; + growth of a dam, 61; + the dam a highway, 61; + influence of dams on stream-flow, 61-64; + dams catching and holding soil, 64-67; + value of, 67. + + Birds, Rocky Mountain, abundance of, 151, 152, 237; + various species of, 152-159; + song of, 159; + a pet quail, 160-167; + of a mountain park, 241, 242. + + Boulder, a lava, 247-249. + + + Cabin, a night in a deserted, 22, 23. + + Camp-fires, 5, 6, 77; + the spell of the camp-fire, 256, 257. + + Camping outfit, 4. + + Carpenter, Prof. L. G., 4, 83. + + Chambers Lake, 93. + + Chickadee, 155. + + Chipmunk, 242. + + Columbine, 208. + + Cottonwood, broad-leaf, 200. + + Cottonwood, narrow-leaf, 200. + + Coyotes, 77, 242; + Scotch and the, 133-138; + usefulness of, 237. + + Crested Butte, 7. + + Crow, 156-158. + + + Deer, 9. + + Dog, the story of a collie, 131-147; + a St. Bernard and a pet quail, 160, 164-167. + + + Edwinia, 208. + + Electrical phenomena, in winter, 26; + before the Poudre flood, 83-95. + + + Fir, balsam (_Abies lasiocarpa_), 207, 208. + + Fir, Douglas. _See_ Spruce, Douglas. + + Fires, forest, 12, 14; + and the lodge-pole pine, 186, 187, 191, 192; + causes of, 209; + effects of, 209, 210; + Indian tradition of a "Big Fire," 249, 250. + + Flowers, above timber-line, 211-213; + of a mountain park, 241. + + Forestry, an address on, 13, 14. + + + Gem Lake, 240. + + Geneva Park, 217. + + Geologist, a night with a, 247-252. + + Girl, climbing Long's Peak with an eight-year-old, 99-111. + + Glaciation, 234, 235, 243. + + Glaciers, 243. + + Grand Ditch Camp, 93. + + Grand Lake, 14, 15, 22. + + Ground-hog, 110, 237. + + Grouse, 9. + + + Hague's Peak, 84. + + Hoosier Pass, 119, 123. + + Horses, return, 115-118; + Midget, 119-128. + + Hotel, ejected from a, 11. + + + Ice, fine arts of, 12. + + + Kinnikinick, a plant pioneer, 171-175; + its nursery for trees, 175, 176; + growth of, 176, 177; + flowers and fruit of, 177; + as a bed, 177, 178; + a legend of, 178, 179; + reclaiming work of, 180. + + + Lakes, 235, 239, 240. + + Lead Mountain, 9. + + Leadville, 125. + + Lion, mountain, 6, 20, 23; + an epicure, 9, 10; + tracked by a, 10. + + Long's Peak, 15, 84; + a climb up, with a little girl, 99-111; + summit of, 109, 110; + Scotch and the young lady on, 138-141; + a winter climb with Scotch, 142-147; + birds on summit of, 158. + + Loveland, 91. + + + Mammals, 237. + + Medicine Bow National Forest, 23. + + Medicine-men, 10, 11. + + Mesa Verde, 31, 48, 49. + + Moonlight, the mountains by, 254-256. + + Mt. Coxcomb, 244; + camping on the slope of, 246-254, 256. + + Mt. Lincoln, 11, 123. + + Mt. Richthofen, 93. + + Mt. Silverheels, 120, 121. + + Mt. Wetterhorn, 244. + + + Ouzel, water, 100-102, 152, 153, 158, 159. + + + Park, a Rocky Mountain, 238-244. + + Pine, nursed by kinnikinick, 175, 176. + + Pine, lodge-pole, its names, 183; + description of, 183; + its habit of growth, 183, 184; + its aggressive character, 184; + distribution of, 184, 185, 208; + its method of dispersing its seeds, 185-187, 191; + growth of, 187, 188, 193, 194; + as a colonist and pioneer, 189; + cones embedded in, 189, 190; + sunlight necessary to, 190; + fire in a forest of, 191, 192; + enemies of, 193; + uses of, 193; + value of, 193-195. + + Pine, Western yellow, a thousand-year-old, 31-50; + habits of the, 200-204; + character of the, 240. + + _Pinus flexilis_, 188, 208. + + Plants, of the summit-slopes, 235, 236. + + Potentilla, 208. + + Poudre Lakes, 86. + + Poudre Valley, flood in, 83, 95. + + Ptarmigan, 9, 107, 153, 158. + + + Quail, a pet, 161-167. + + + Rabbit, snowshoe, 9. + + Rex, a St. Bernard dog, 160, 164-167. + + Rock, easily eroded, 246. + + Rock-formations, grotesque and beautiful, 245, 246. + + Rocky Mountains, individuality of, 213; + character of, 233, 234. + + + Schoolhouse, a mountain, 13. + + Sheep, mountain, 9; + a flock of, 78. + + Silence, 254. + + Snow, tracks in, 9. + + Snow-cornice, breaking through a, 17. + + Snow-fall, 7. + + Snow-slides, 19, 20; + an adventure with a snow-slide, 24, 25. + + Snowstorm, a, 8. + + Solitaire, 153-155. + + Specimen Mountain, electrical phenomena on, 88-92. + + Spruce, Colorado blue or silver, 207, 208. + + Spruce, Douglas, or Douglas fir, 188, 189, 203, 204; + a large stump, 249. + + Spruce, Engelmann, 188, 189, 208, 241, 249; + the story of a forest of, 250-252. + + Squirrel, Douglas, 242; + as a nurseryman, 34, 35; + and the old pine, 35, 47; + character of, 79; + cutting off and storing cones, 102-104. + + + Thrush, Audubon's hermit, 152, 154. + + Timber-line, 104-107, 208, 209. + + Trap Creek, 94, 95. + + Trees, of the Rocky Mountains, 199-211, 236. _See also individual + species_. + + Turret-Top, 245. + + + Uncompahgre National Forest, 244. + + Uncompahgre Peak, 244. + + Uncompahgre region, wonders of the, 244-256. + + + Wind, 253. + + Wolves, an adventure with, 71-75. + + Woodpecker, Texas, 39, 40. + + + + +The Riverside Press + +CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS + +U . S . A + + + + +Transcriber's Note + +Variant and inconsistent spellings in the original text have been +retained in this ebook (for instance: kodak, cosy, halfway and +half-way; kinnikinick and Kinnikinick). + +Some illustrations have been moved from their original locations to +paragraph breaks, so as to be nearer to their corresponding text, or +for ease of document navigation. + +Duplicate chapter titles have been removed in the text version and +hidden in the HTML version of this ebook. + +The following typographical corrections have been made to this text: + + Page xi: Changed 64 to 63, to account for illustration repositioning + + Page 27: Changed spendid to splendid (calm and splendid forest) + + Page 202: Changed eight to eighty (eighty-five feet high) + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Wild Life on the Rockies, by Enos A. 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