Fifty-seven years before my visit a fire had 

 burned over about four thousand acres and was 

 brought to a stand by a lake, a rocky ridge, and 

 a wide fire-line that a snowslide had cleared 

 through the woods. The surface of the burn was 

 coarse, disintegrated granite and sloped toward 

 the west, where it was exposed to prevailing 

 high westerly winds. A few kinnikinnick rugs 

 apparently were the only green things upon the 

 surface, and only a close examination revealed 

 a few stunted trees starting. It was almost bar- 

 ren. Erosion was still active; there were no 

 roots to bind the finer particles together or to 

 anchor them in place. One of the most striking 

 features of the entire burn was that the trees 

 killed by the fire fifty-seven years ago were 

 standing where they died. They had excellent 

 root-anchorage in the shattered surface, and 

 many of them probably would remain erect for 

 years. The fire that killed them had been a hot 

 one, and it had burned away most of the limbs, 

 and had so thoroughly boiled the pitch through 

 the exterior of the trunk that the wood was in 

 an excellent state of preservation. 



