100 RAMBLES OF 



for the axe. In felling such pines, I found the woodmen 

 alway anxious to avoid letting- them strike against neigh- 

 bouring sound trees, as they said that the insects more 

 readily attacked an injured tree than one whose bark was 

 unbroken. The observation is most probably correct, at 

 least the experience of country folks in such matters is 

 rarely wrong, though they sometimes give very odd rea- 

 sons for the processes they adopt. 



A full grown pine forest is at all times a grand and 

 majestic object to one accustomed to moving through it. 

 Those vast and towering columns, sustaining a waving 

 crown of deepest verdure; those robust and rugged limbs 

 standing forth at a vast height overhead, loaded with the 

 cones of various seasons ; and the diminutiveness of all 

 surrounding objects compared with these gigantic child- 

 ren of nature, cannot but inspire ideas of seriousness and 

 even of melancholy. But how awful and even tremen- 

 dous does such a situation become, when we hear the 

 first wailings of the gathering storm, as it stoops upon 

 the lofly summits of the pine, and soon increases to a 

 deep hoarse roaring, as the boughs begin to wave in the 

 blast, and the whole tree is forced to sway before its 

 power. 



In a short time the fury of the wind is at its 

 height, the loftiest trees bend suddenly before it, and 

 scarce regain their upright position ere they are again 

 obliged to cower beneath its violence. Then the tempest 

 literally howls, and amid the tremendous reverberations 



