122 WITH THE FLOWERS AND TREES 



going down three or four inches, he grasped the un- 

 derground base of the plant, and pulled at it steadily. 

 In a moment it came loose, and he held up to me what 

 looked like a ball of coarse blackish burlap. Ex- 

 amination showed that the root of the grassy plant 

 was a bulb about the size of an onion, but more 

 elongated, encased in a snugly fitting fiber coat, 

 which was readily stripped off. 



"This sort," remarked the Calif ornian, "is 

 amole. 7 At least the Spanish people call it that. 

 People that prefer American names say soap-root. 

 Nature does up each of these cakes in a wrapper. 

 See, when this fiber is stripped off, here is a nice 

 clean ball of soap. You crush this up in your 

 hand ' ' suiting the action to the word * ' and it just 

 leaks soapiness though there is more in the dried 

 bulb." 



Eubbing his hands in the water, a cleansing lather 

 was produced as in the case of the wild lilac flowers. 



* ' The Indians knew all about this plant, ' ' he went 

 on, "and while most white people have an idea that 

 Indians don't naturally wash themselves, they're 

 mistaken. This amole makes a capital hair wash, 

 and the Indians knew it long before we did. They 

 found, too, that cooking dispelled the soapiness, and 



T Botanieally, Chlorogalum pomeridianum, a plant of the lily tribe, 

 peculiar to California. 



