130 



All the young, small growth had the axe 

 laid at root. About the great trees it traced 

 only the ring of death chipped broadly 

 away the thick bark to leave a ghastly glar- 

 ing belt. First the brave tree laughed it to 

 scorn. His root ran strong with sap; his 

 heart was all untouched. He decked him 

 in all his bravery of tassel and bud and leaf, 

 and laughed a welcome to summer. And 

 all his new leaves grew broad ; the wind sang 

 through ; birds nested in their shelter ; he 

 nodded to his next neighbor, "Ah ha! ah 

 ha ! Those pigmies down below, girding at 

 us with their steels see how well fooled 

 they are ! They shall have labor for their 

 pains." 



" Verily," nodded the neighbor yet some- 

 how his leaves hung all adroop. A shrill- 

 ing sigh ran through them the south wind 

 calling them to play. A frolic wind, keen 

 and hot from the lowlands, a miser of moist- 

 ure, drinking wherever he might the dew, 

 the juice, the life. All day he blew out of 

 a shadowless sky. Night found the poor 

 trees without voice or motion, save the 

 hoarse, cracked rustle of stiffened leaf- 

 bough. In dew, in silence, it bewept them. 

 The wise Night knew, all too well, for them 

 there was no resurrection through tears. 



