The Chorus of the Forest 



Cutting your path before you means clearing it 

 of living things as well as removing the thicket 

 of undergrowth. A hundred little creatures are 

 fleeing at your every step, and wherever you set 

 foot you kill without your knowledge; for earth, 

 leaves, and mosses are teeming with life. You 

 need only press your ear to the ground and lie still 

 to learn that a volume of sound is rising to heaven 

 from the creeping, crawling, voiceless creatures of 

 earth, the minor tone of all its music. 



The only way to love the forest is to live in it 

 until you have learned its pathless travel, growth, 

 and inhabitants as you know the fields. You must The 

 begin at the gate and find your road slowly, else Se< ? e ? 

 you will not hear the Great Secret and see the Com- vision 

 pelling Vision. There are trees you never before 

 have seen; flowers and vines the botanists fail to 

 mention ; such music as your ears can not hear else- 

 where, and never-ending pictures no artist can re- 

 produce with pencil or brush. 



This forest in the summer of 1907 was a com- 

 plete jungle. The extremely late spring had de- 

 layed all vegetation, and then the prolonged and 

 frequent rains fell during summer heat, forcing 

 everything to unnatural size. Jewel-weed that 

 we were accustomed to see attain a height of two 

 feet along the open road, raised there that season 

 to four, and in the shade of the forest overgrew a 

 tall man; its pale yellow-green stems were like 

 35 



