QUERCUS 13 



broke like snapping strings. But one day 

 there came a sound which was not the rush of 

 the restless wind, though the wind was awake, 

 lashing the fiery steed that he drove till its red 

 mane streamed far over the forest and the 

 dust that marked its track clouded the sky as 

 smoke. 



The wind drove the fire close upon Quercus, 

 who felt the thickness of his armor of bark 

 and yet was afraid— not for himself but for 

 the child-trees, for the nestling birds, for the 

 bright-eyed squirrels. He looked at Pinus, 

 slim and straight and tall and proud, but 

 Pinus said : 



''My armor is thin; to you at last will be the 

 victory!'^ 



The wind caught the words. **The fight 

 shall be more fair," said he, tearing away the 

 wings of flame, and the maimed steed crept 

 along the ground, past Quercus, past Pinus, 

 stopped at the stream that flowed through the 

 forest, and quenched its burning thirst. But 

 about the feet of Quercus the red lips had 

 licked up the tender seedlings, leaving the 



