36 CANADIAN FOKKNTKY ASSOCIATION. 



bel. I can recall in a measure the feelings that I then experienced. On every side, 

 as far as the eye could penetrate, arose the tall, straight, symmetrical shafts of trees. 

 Far overhead were the intermingled branches and the dense canopy of foliage, through 

 which no glimpse of the blue sky was obtainable. All below was in a strange half 

 gloom; and there was unbroken silence. Whatever there was of bird or insect life 

 was on the brighter side of the leafy covering above. 



Another thing that was remarkable in this forest was' the entire absence of under- 

 growth. One could walk without hindrance in any direction. It was the sort of 

 forest that Fennimore Cooper and Dr. Bird delighted to portray; and I remember 

 feeling that, however unpleasant it might be, the appearance of an Indian in his war- 

 paint would not be out of keeping with the scene. 



I was at that time in charge of a new mission, in what was called and very 

 appropriately called, in 'those days Brome Woods; and there I built .a church and 

 a parsonage, and bought a lot of land. I resided there for eight years, entering into 

 the every-day life of the people, and so, serving an apprenticeship to wood-craft: and 

 there I gained much of what I know concerning forest insects and their habits. 



Pardon me if I dwell for a moment upon the time, the place and its inhabitants. 

 The seeming digression from my subject will help us to understand the conditions 

 under which valuable stretches of standing timber may be placed in danger, and forest 

 insects multiplied to a mischievous extent; and I trust that the retrospect will not be 

 without its lessons for the present. 



The settlement on which I lived lay at the head of a beautiful valley in the heart 

 of the Brome and Farnham mountains. A stream ran through the middle of it, large 

 enough to run a small mill, in which was a pair of stones for grinding Indian corn, 

 and an old-fashioned up-and-down saw, which, when in operation, reminded one o:: 

 Tennyson's 



' dry 



High-elbowed grigs that leap in summer grass '- 



the grasshoppers and crickets which see-saw their spiny shanks against their hard 

 wing-covers, and so produce the stridtilations that enliven the autumn evenings . 



After running for several miles the stream fell into a beautiful little lake at the 

 end of the valley. 



The first settler in the district, Mr. John Shufelt, was still living on an adjoining 

 lot to mine. The people generally were an exceedingly kind-hearted people, honest, 

 industrious and hospitable; but oh, they were sadly lacking in economy in their deal- 

 ings with the forest. 



Excuses can be made for them; they formed a community living to themselves; 

 they were seven miles from the nearest railway station, which was on the Col. Foster 

 road to Waterloo. Except their own requirements there was no demand for forest 

 products with the one exception of hemlock bark; and that sold for two dollars per 

 cord only. It was bought for the small tanneries in places round. 



On my land and extending beyond it was a stretch of first growth maples. How 

 barbarously the trees had been used. A former proprietor in his sugaring operations 

 had tapped them with an axe, cutthi^ sloping gashes six or nine inches long. 



The trees were left in a state to invite the attacks of borers. They abounded 

 with horntails and beetles they were doomed, and only fit for firewood. 



The settlers had beaten back the forest here and there, till they came to the black 

 timber on the slopes of the mountains; and on the borders of this, giant hemlocks 

 were left exposed to the winds that sometimes rushed up the valleys and mountain 

 defiles with great fury. Again and again I saw tree after tree tumbled over by the 

 wind. I paced one of these fallen veterans, and found that it measured ninety feet 

 from the roots to the first branch. Generally speaking, the trees were left where they 

 fell; and, as nature abhors waste, they were soon attacked by beetles and Siricidoe, 

 which multiplied in them exceedingly. 



Tin- woods were full of brush and tops of trees, where men had cut their winter's 

 fuel. Brush fences, for keeping in the cattle, ran in different directions. Such a 



