of 



I concluded to go down the river a few miles 

 and make headquarters in a new sawmill. There 

 I spent delightful days in gathering information 

 concerning tree-growth and in making bio- 

 graphical studies of several veteran logs, as 

 the saw ripped open and revealed their life- 

 scrolls. 



One morning I was awakened by the pelting 

 and thumping of large, widely scattered rain- 

 drops on the roof of the mill. Tree stories were 

 forgotten, and I rushed outdoors. The sky was 

 filled with the structureless gloom of storm- 

 cloud, and the heavy, calm air suggested rain. 

 "We'll get a wetting such as you read of, to- 

 day!" declared the sawmill foreman, as I made 

 haste to start for the wilds. 



I plunged into the woods and went eagerly 

 up the dim, steep mountain trail which kept 

 close company with the river St. Vrain. Any 

 doubts concerning the strength of the storm 

 were quickly washed away. My dry-weather 

 clothes were swiftly soaked, but with notebook 

 safe under my hat, I hastened to gain the 

 "forks" as soon as possible, enjoying the gen- 



268 



