Bife on 



rubbish on the ground the heat is not so intense 

 as in a young growth. Where trees are scattered 

 the flames crawl from tree to tree, the needles of 

 which ignite like flash-powder and make beautiful 

 rose-purple flames. At night fires of this kind fur- 

 nish rare fireworks. Each tree makes a fountain 

 of flame, after which, for a moment, every needle 

 shines like incandescent silver, while exquisite 

 light columns of ashen green smoke float above. 

 The hottest fire I ever experienced was made by 

 the burning of a thirty-eight-year lodge-pole for- 

 est. In this forest the poles stood more than 

 thirty feet high, and were about fifteen thousand 

 to an acre. They stood among masses of fallen 

 trees, the remains of a spruce forest that had 

 been killed by the same fire which had given this 

 lodge-pole forest a chance to spring up. Several 

 thousand acres were burned, and for a brief time 

 the fire traveled swiftly. I saw it roll blazing 

 over one mountain-side at a speed of more than 

 sixty miles an hour. It was intensely hot, and in 

 a surprisingly short time the flames had burned 

 every log, stump, and tree to ashes. Several hun- 

 dred acres were swept absolutely bare of trees, 



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