Jriiitful ftrees. 139 



gathered floods trickle slowly through, down to the 

 thirsty lowlands. The surface underneath may be 

 nothing but bare granite ledges. But as long as 

 the trees lock roots, as long as they cling to the 

 crevices and the ridges, the soil will stay there, an- 

 chored by the guardian trees. Thus the moisture 

 which the clouds distribute will be husbanded by 

 these thrifty friends of our agriculture, and carefully 

 dealt out to the rills and the brooks and the soil 

 below in the valleys, little by little, all through the 

 hot summer. 



But cut down the trees, clear the hillsides, and see 

 what happens. The thin soil, no longer protected by 

 the trees, no longer held in place by their netted roots, 

 no longer shaded by their leafy branches, grows dry, 

 and crumbles, and loosens. The heavy rains wash it 

 bodily into the valleys. The bare ledges appear. The 

 vegetation dwindles. The hill or mountain becomes 

 a barren crag. Its brooks and springs dry up as soon as 

 they are filled. The drench of the hillsides is hurried 

 in bulk down into the valleys ; and every rain-storm 

 becomes a swift freshet, destroying the crops and 

 threatening house, barn, and factory, at the same 

 time that it washes down the sand and gravel from 

 the heights to deaden and impoverish the lowland 

 meadows. But as soon as the rain stops, the streams 

 stop too. They dry up and shrink in their beds. 

 They disappear under the scorch of the sun. The 

 same fields which were inundated in the spring- 

 time are parched and dusty in the heats of midsum- 



