ARBORICULTURE 



189 



projecting point, a cleared place in the 

 forest, the roof of a ranch home far 

 away. But on the landward side it is 

 just as nature left it, a solid surface of 

 treetops down all the slopes and in all 

 the canyons. 



The Big Basin is not many miles from 

 Boulder Creek, the center of the lum- 

 bering industry of this section, but its 

 natural ramparts have preserved it from 

 violation. It would be slow and costly 

 work to cut wagon roads into it and un- 

 dertake to mill the standing timber and 

 haul it out by teams ; so while waiting 

 for the railroad to tunnel through one of 

 its ridges and build a branch line into it, 

 the mill men contented themselves with 

 denuding the more accessible hillsides 

 in the neighborhood of Boulder Creek. 

 But redwood lumber was rising in value 

 in proportion as it grew scarce, and at 

 last the word went forth that the Big 

 Basin was to be invaded, and the last 

 remnant of virgin forest was to be given 

 over to destruction. 



Then the dormant public sentiment 

 was aroused ; then the cry went up : 

 "Save the redwoods !" Letters began to 

 appear in the newspapers ; scientists be- 

 wailed the impending loss to the world ; 

 utilitarians prophesied the drying up of 

 all the streams which had their rise in the 

 Big Basin, and the consequent loss of 

 the water for practical uses ; sentimen- 

 talists deplored the despoiling of so 

 much beauty ; sportsmen remembered the 

 deer covers and the trout pools. 



Finally, in May, 1900, a party of eight 

 consisting of representatives of these 

 various classes, went to the place with a 

 view of exploring it, learning the facts 

 of the case, and seeing \vhat measures, 

 if any, could be taken to rescue the red- 

 woods from total destruction. 



When our purpose was announced, 

 every facility was placed at our disposal 

 and every courtesy shown us by the own- 

 ers of the land. We went to Boulder 

 Creek by rail, and thence by team twelve 

 miles into the Big Basin. We took our 

 own tents and bedding, but provisions 

 were hospitably supplied us, likewise the 

 services of a cook and a guide. At the 

 end of the wagon road the team left us. 

 and we pitched our tents on the banks 



of a clear stream, fringed with elders 

 and azaleas, and shaded by giant red- 

 woods. 



From this camp, as headquarters, we 

 made long excursions on foot into the 

 depths of the primeval forest. Without 

 a guide we could not have found our 

 way, for the trails were dim and over- 

 grown, often marked only by obscure 

 blazes on trees. Even old hunters, and 

 others experienced in woodcraft, have 

 been lost in this Basin, for it is one suc- 

 cession of wooded hills and valleys and 

 running streams after another, all so 

 much alike that the traveler gets bewild- 

 ered. 



Indian file, with the guide leading, we 

 made our way through the untrodden for- 

 est, crossing streams on boulders or fallen 

 logs, beating our way through thickets, 

 of hazelnut and huckleberry bushes, 

 coming out into beautiful park-lW^e 

 openings clear of underbrush, hearing 

 no sounds but the querulous challenge of 

 a bluejay or the chatter of a squirrel. 



It was truly : 



"Primeval forest, virgin sod 



That Saxon hath not ravished yet." 



All around us the redwoods rose in 

 stately ranks, their evergreen boughs 

 blending far above our heads, so that we 

 seemed to be walking through the aisles 

 of some vast natural cathedral. 



As we penetrated into the remote re- 

 cesses of the forest, wondering what new 

 scene of beauty would be unfolded be- 

 fore us as we climbed a ridge or turned 

 the flank of a hill, we realized the joy of 

 explorers ; we understood how, in all 

 ages, the charms of the wilderness have 

 lured men away from civilization, and 

 made them count as mere trifles the at- 

 tendant hardships. 



Some of our party measured trees and 

 estimated their commercial value, with a 

 view to naming a price for the land in the 

 event of a future purchase ; the sports- 

 men fished in the trout streams ; the poet 

 heard music in the sighing of the wind 

 amid the lofty tree tops ; while our pho- 

 tographer set up his camera and took 

 man}- views of the forest scenery. This 

 gentleman, Andrew P. Hill of San Jose,, 

 has been identified from the first, heart 

 and soul, witli the movement to save the 



