February 24, 1897.] 



Garden and Forest. 



73 



valleys are hidden in the most unsuspected places, and the 

 freshly burned-over Chemise is a rich field for the plant 

 hunter. 



A typical Chemise valley lies just north of Red Moun- 

 tain, on which is the curious grove of Cupressus Macnabiana 

 described in a previous number of Garden and Forest (see 

 vol. ix., p. 233). Lost Valley is well named, for come upon 

 it from which direction you may, it is a surprise. Two vales 

 wind in sinuous curves through dense brush, and coming 

 together form a broader vale containing a swamp of four 

 or five acres. The little valley is closely hemmed by a 

 dense growth of Chemise and Scrub Oaks, but not one 

 intrudes into its grassy limits. Situated at about two thou- 

 sand feet altitude, its climate is cool, and its growing: season 

 is at its height when in the valley below the dry summer has 

 begun. Frosts come frequently and at all seasons, but the 

 vegetation seems to have peculiar powers of withstanding 

 them. Short Bunch Grass grows over the drier portions, and 

 the swamp is a tangle of immense Thistles and Water 

 Grasses, mingled in the fall with Golden-rod. Swamp 

 plants follow the little watercourses. In July, Lilium par- 

 dalinum may be seen lifting its scarlet and yellow flowers 

 above the weeds, and in late June handsome pale blue 

 Camassia flowers in abundance throughout the wetter part 

 of the place. Indeed, bulbous plants would quite possess the 

 valley were they not kept in check by the gophers, whose 

 underground passages are everywhere that the water per- 

 mits. In June a blue Brodiaea grows in great abundance, 

 and a little later Calochortus lilacinus, dwarfed as befits its 

 high home, lifts its pretty lilac cups among the grass- 

 blades. The tiny dwarfed plants and little cups of C. 

 venustus, var. oculatus, which as the valley dries up are to 

 be seen in the high portions, are little like the grand blos- 

 soms of the same plant in the valley below, and the rich 

 purple tints seem unnatural. As little to be recognized are 

 the small flowers and short leaves of the high mountain 

 form of Iris macrosiphon, which is quite plentiful in the 

 gritty soil next the side of the vale. 



Nature is rich in oddities here. Down in the swamp a 

 great Thistle grows ; its woolly stems rise five or six feet 

 high. The same plant grows in the higher parts of Lost 

 Valley in a dwarfed form, the white leaves scarcely rising 

 above the ground and the thick head set close down in 

 them. The whole plant is more like a Cactus than the 

 lofty plant of the swamp. Two Godetias abound in the 

 late spring. G. viminea also grows below in the valley. 

 It is one of our showiest plants, a lovely slender-stemmed 

 annual, the flower having a red centre. The other Godetia 

 has a pale, rather inconspicuous flower; it has a ten- 

 dency to form round mats with many stems. All about the 

 edge of the valley the soil is dry and gritty, and there 

 can be seen large beds of our common St. John's-wort, 

 a species with short stems six inches high and a very 

 pretty yellow flower. It is one of the hardiest of flowers 

 and thrives in the little dry openings throughout the 

 Chemise country. We have few more delicately beautiful 

 flowers. Sysyrinchium helium is not uncommon. 



I well remember a lovely lateral vale which I happened 

 upon a few years ago. A fire had deadened the brush and 

 invigorated the Columbines of the Aquilegia truncata type. 

 There were hundreds of plants in full blossom, and so 

 thick as to exclude all other species. This five-spurred 

 flower is always beautiful, but I have never seen it to such 

 advantage since nor before. In May the common Butter- 

 cup, Ranunculus macranthus, tinged the vale with yellow. 

 Later there are many composites, and even in the fall the 

 succession of bloom is kept up in the swamp and about the 

 spring. 



Four years ago the finest wood of Pinus attenuata I 

 have ever seen stood on the slopes of the hill at the head 

 of the valley, clean, symmetrical and straight-limbed, and 

 as thick as the trees could well grow. A fire swept through, 

 and now only bare trunks are left. With them, however, 

 death is the beginning of a new and more abundant life. 

 The fire that destroys the parents releases from their long 



imprisonment in the cones the abundant seeds, which, fall- 

 ing in the still warm ashes, soon produce a more abun- 

 dant growth. Now there are thousands of handsome 

 young trees coming on. I have observed that this Pine is 

 on the increase under prevailing conditions. It fruits at an 

 early age, and fires seldom find it unprepared to perpetuate 

 itself. It is of the hardiest constitution, and the seeds grow 

 vigorously in the most barren of soils. Old trees of P. 

 attenuata, gnarled, encircled by the persistent cones of 

 many years and with dead limbs, can only be said to 

 be picturesque, but many of the younger specimens are 

 truly beautiful. 



I suppose that of all of the shrubs of Chemise land, the 

 Chemise itself, Adenostoma fascicularis, comprises fully 

 ninety per cent, of the specimens. On the southern slopes, 

 and on the less precipitous slopes to the west and north- 

 west, it rules almost to the exclusion of all other shrubs. 

 It belongs to the Rose family and is an evergreen with 

 linear Heath-like leaves, a light-colored stringy bark and 

 brittle wood. In late spring it produces an abundance 

 of whitish flowers with green centres, and they are followed 

 by seed-pods concealed by the tawny remains of the 

 flowers which persist till fall. While it is overwhelmingly 

 predominant in its realm, it lives on familiar terms with a 

 great variety of shrubs or dwarfed trees as well fitted as itself 

 to endure the hard conditions. On the driest ridges can be 

 seen a stiff, spiny-looking shrub with small elliptic leaves, 

 thinly distributed and giayish bark. In its season it has short 

 racemes of very fragrant white flowers, which perfume the 

 moun f ain wastes. This is Ceanothus sorediatus in its high 

 mountain form. 



Here and there throughout the Chemise, in single tufts 

 or in copses, the California Holly grows, or, as the Mexi- 

 cans called it, "Toyon." It is an evergreen with large, 

 glossy, serrated leaves. In midsummer it produces its. 

 white flowers and forms its panicled clusters of berries. 

 These gain color as the season advances, and by the mid- 

 winter holidays are a glowing wealth of crimson. For a 

 long time the bright masses show against the dark foliage 

 and lighten up the brushy expanse. On the highest ridges, 

 where the summer heat is greatest and the soil the driest, 

 and even the hardy Chemise takes on a stunted form, can 

 be seen another extremely interesting shrub, Picker ingia 

 montana, which is excelled by none of its Leguminous 

 relatives when in full flower. At other times one sees a 

 thin-leaved, stiff and spine-tipped shrub, often but four or 

 five feet high, but sometimes twelve or fifteen. The bark 

 is light green, the leaves ovate-lanceolate. It is very beau- 

 tiful when the bush is a solid mass of pea-shaped flowers 

 of a soft flesh-pink. Its season is quite long. 

 Ukiah, calif. Carl Purdy. 



Leaf-spot of Pear. 



FROM observations made during the past two or three 

 years it has become apparent that what is called 

 "leaf-spot" of the Pear in this country, and generally 

 attributed to the fungus known as Entomosporium macu- 

 latum, is not wholly due to this fungus, but in many cases, 

 perhaps the majority, is caused by an entirely different 

 parasite. This emphasizes the need of expert examination 

 of plant diseases when an occasion arises for writing upon 

 these subjects, if one wishes to speak with as much accu- 

 racy concerning the name of the plant as would be desired 

 when writing of potatoes. For some time I had been 

 desirous of obtaining this fungus, E. maculatum, on the 

 Pear in the vicinity of Ithaca, for a study of its life-history. 

 And while the fungus on Quince leaves and fruit has 

 always been in considerable quantity here I have never 

 been able to find it on the Pear. A bulletin describing the 

 results of spraying for the Pear leaf-spot in an orchard 

 about two miles from Ithaca suggested to me that I might 

 find the desired fungus here. The orchard was visited early 

 in the spring in order to inspect the dead leaves in the hope 

 of finding, not only the conidial form of the Entomospo 

 rium on the leaves which had been lying on the ground 



