812 THE LOG OF THE SUN 



arch of the forest has gained its supremacy only 

 by a lifelong battle with its own kind and with a 

 horde of alien enemies. 



From the heart of the tropics to the limit of 

 tree-growth in the northland we find the battle of 

 life waged fiercely, root contending with root for 

 earth-food, branch with branch for the light which 

 means life. 



In a severe wrestling match, the moments of 

 supremest strain are those when the opponents 

 are fast-locked, motionless, when the advantage 

 comes, not with quickness, but with staying 

 power; and likewise in the struggle of tree with 

 tree the fact that one or two years, or even whole 

 decades, watch the efforts of the branches to lift 

 their leaves one above the other, detracts nothing 

 from the bitterness of the strife. 



Far to the north we will sometimes find groves 

 of young balsam firs or spruce, hundreds of the 

 same species of sapling growing so close together 

 that a rabbit may not pass between. The slender 

 trunks, almost touching each other, are bare of 

 branches. Only at the top is there light and air, 

 and the race is ever upward. One year some slight 

 advantage may come to one young tree, some 

 delicate unbalancing of the scales of life, and that 

 fortunate individual instantly responds, reaching 

 several slender side branches over the heads of 

 his brethren. They as quickly show the effects of 

 tHe lessened light and forthwith the race is at an 



