NATURALIST MEETS PROSPECTOR 109 



for a generation. I walked readily all over the 

 top and only occasionally did my feet break 

 through. What a nice spring mattress it would 

 have made ! Jumping into a tree-top or falling out 

 of it here was but a commonplace performance. 



Several miles down the western slope of the 

 mountain a number of pieces of rich gold float had 

 recently been found. But I was not long permitted 

 to revel in such fancies. While I was examining 

 the little six-foot timberline forest, three prospect- 

 ors appeared. They accosted me with a request 

 for my business. I told them of my interest in 

 these storm-shaped trees. They wanted to know 

 what there was unusual about them. I tried to 

 explain the great age of these trees, the forces 

 that had dwarfed and distorted them. They 

 asked me for a piece of bacon. I had none. They 

 desired to know where my roll of blankets was. 

 I told them I did not carry one. Then they wanted 

 to know what kind of a gun I used. To find that 

 I was unarmed was too much for them. One asked 

 me where I came from. He was promptly an- 

 swered by one of the others who expressed the 

 conviction that I was from an insane asylum. 



This was another case where explanations would 

 avail nothing. Quickly leaving these unsympa- 

 thetic fellows I crossed the mountain, descending 

 the western slope. I stopped occasionally to ex- 

 amine the trees and the tree clumps and to talk 

 here and there to an individual old spruce. With- 



