NONSUCH 



times perhaps the kiUing was quickly done — some 

 devastating storm of many days' duration which 

 kept air and twigs saturated with salt. 



Beyond the asylum of the shell-hole hollows, 

 down go the cedars on all fours again. Now the sea- 

 lavender and the ox-eye and even the lowly tassel- 

 plant call them brother; a little farther waterward 

 and the arboreal dwarfs mingle with the prostrate 

 stems of the seaside morning-glories, creeping upon 

 their beUies, but still with every proud character 

 of their race, their leaf-strung twigs no whit 

 different from those waving fifty feet above 

 ground. 



I like to go down to this front line of battle in a 

 high wind and see the opposing forces in full action. 

 Surely it must have been during a lull that a 

 berry rolled or was carried into this far crevice. 

 It sprouted and took root, and soon the first test 

 came. Since then the pressure has been almost 

 mathematically constant, for the plant to adjust 

 root and height so nicely to maintain its balance 

 and hold. One day last week, from no especial 

 stress of weather, one of the proud cedars of the 

 north slope fell over, perhaps from its overconfi- 

 dent topheaviness. Its roots sprawled in mid-air, 

 rather soft and of no great length. Here, where 

 seventh waves spout spray over me as I sit, I 

 use all my strength, and pluck a cedarling from its 

 crack. It is not a foot high and has twenty slender, 

 leaf -scaled twigs. Its root is three times as thick as 

 its superstructure, twice as long, and has ^ve lat- 



24 



