116 WITH THE FLOWERS AND TREES 



babies meanwhile strapped in their wicker cradles 

 and laid on a shady bank, or, as Mr. Chesnut tells, 

 wrapped in the flexible green leaves of the moun- 

 tain iris, which protects them from thirst. 



To the bees the chaparral is one vast honey pas- 

 ture, as yet undisturbed by the march of improve- 

 ment which has all but wiped out the glorious wild 

 gardens that covered the plains and valleys of Cali- 

 fornia until a generation or so ago. From Janu- 

 ary, when the clustered, waxen little urns of the 

 manzanita open to the sun, to December when late 

 lingerers like the Zauschneria or wild fuchsia, and 

 certain mints and composites may still be found, 

 there is always some bloom, though the great honey 

 harvest is during the six months from March till 

 September. Besides the yield from the flowers of 

 the shrubs that make up the chaparral there is un- 

 stinted nectar to be had from myriads of other blos- 

 soms that awaken with the advent of spring and 

 brighten the sunny interspaces of the belt scarlet 

 castilleias and minty monardellas in blue, yellow 

 hosackias, native clovers and purple lupins (which 

 in the more open places dye the hillsides with solid 

 color), wild buckwheat and sages white and black, 

 wild gooseberry, blue phacelias and the clambering 

 white-starred vines of the chilicothe or wild encum- 

 ber. Here we find thickets of yerba santa in solid 



