XVIII 



THE FORESTS OF WASHINGTON 



WHEN we force our way into the depths of 

 the forests, following any of the rivers back 

 to their fountains, we find that the bulk of the 

 woods is made up of the Douglas spruce (Pseur 

 dotsuga Douglasii), named hi honor of David 

 Douglas, an enthusiastic botanical explorer 

 of early Hudson's Bay times. It is not only a 

 very large tree but a very beautiful one, with 

 lively bright-green drooping foliage, handsome 

 pendent cones, and a shaft exquisitely straight 

 and regular. For so large a tree it is astonish- 

 ing how many find nourishment and space to 

 grow on any given area. The magnificent 

 shafts push their spires into the sky close to- 

 gether with as regular a growth as that of a 

 well-tilled field of gram. And no ground has 

 been better tilled for the growth of trees than 

 that on which these forests are growing. For 

 it has been thoroughly ploughed and rolled 

 by the mighty glaciers from the mountains, 

 and sifted and mellowed and outspread in 

 beds hundreds of feet in depth by the broad 

 streams that issued from their fronts at the 

 tune of their recession, after they had long 

 covered all the land. 



227, 



