110 * * * * * "Oh, Ranger!" 



growths of timber. By the trees and flowers he finds about him, the 

 ranger naturalist who knows the life zones of his park can estimate the 

 altitude of any given locality. In the Sierra Nevada, the Old-Timers can 

 tell the altitude very readily by the combinations of trees, the sugar pine 

 refusing to grow below the six-thousand-foot level, the digger pine re 

 fusing to advance above the four-thousand- foot level, the juniper, the 

 Jeffrey pine, and the tamarack each choosing its own small sphere on the 

 generous mountain sides. 



There is no more fascinating pastime for the Dude or the Sage- 

 brusher from the city than to join the nature-guide parties in Yosemite, 

 in Yellowstone, or in any of the other national parks, and see how 

 Mother Nature's plans are working out before his own eyes, on the 

 mountain side, where each foot of soil is disputed by a silent and per 

 sistent army of plants or trees. A week in the parks with a ranger 

 naturalist with whom to talk things over makes a year with books about 

 these same subjects more fascinating than it could ever be otherwise. 



