142 B. BE. Fernow—The Battle of the Forest. 
has also shown a woeful lack of intelligence in the willful or 
careless destruction of the forest without justifiable cause, and 
by just so much curtailing the bountiful stores provided by 
nature for him and his progeny. Not only has he, like a spend- 
thrift, wasted his stores of useful material, but more—he has 
wasted the work of nature through thousands of years by the 
foolish destruction of the forest cover, wresting from it the toil- 
somely achieved victory over the soil. He has destroyed .the 
grasses and even all vestige of vegetation, and has handed over 
the naked soil to the action of wind and water. As the fertility 
and agriculture of the plain is dependent upon the regular and 
equable flow of water from the mountains, such as a forest cover 
alone can secure, he has by baring the slopes accomplished in 
many localities utter ruin to himself, and turned them back into 
inhospitable deserts as they first were before the struggle of the 
forest had made them inhabitable. 
One would hardly believe that certain mountains in France 
had ever seen a luxuriant forest growth, and could during 
historic times have been so utterly despoiled of their vegetal 
cover. Yet axe, fire and cattle have been most successful, and 
the consequences have been felt not only in the mountains, but 
in the valleys below. The waters in torrents have brought down 
the soil and débris, covering out of sight the fertile fields of 
thousands of toiling farmers. They themselves have brought 
this ruin upon them on account of their ignorance of the relation « 
of forest cover to their occupation. Now, with infinite hard 
work and expenditure of energy and money, the slow work of 
restoring the forest to its possessions has begun. The first work 
is to take care of the rain waters, and by artificial breaks turn 
them from rushing torrents over the bare surface into a succes- 
sion of gentle runs and falls by fascine and stone works. This 
work must be begun at the very top of the mountains, at the very 
source of the evil, where the water receives its first momentum 
in the descent to the valley. The fascines or wattles, laid across 
each rivulet at more or less frequent distances from each other 
and fastened down by heavy stones, are made of live willows or 
other readily sprouting species, which in course of time strike 
root and become living barriers. The pockets behind these 
breastworks gradually fill up, and the contour of the mountain 
side is changed from an even and rapid descent into a series of ° 
steps with gentle fall, over which the formerly rushing waters, 
