270 OUR NATIONAL PARKS 



high, is arrowhead in form, and, compared with 

 the solemn rigidity of age, is as sensitive to the 

 wind as a squirrel tail. The lower branches are 

 gradually dropped as it grows older, and the 

 upper ones thinned out until comparatively few 

 are left. These, however, are developed to great 

 size, divide again and again, and terminate in 

 bossy rounded masses of leafy branchlets, while 

 the head becomes dome-shaped. Then poised in 

 fullness of strength and beauty, stern and solemn 

 in mien, it glows with eager, enthusiastic life, 

 quivering to the tip of every leaf and branch 

 and far-reaching root, calm as a granite dome, 

 the first to feel the touch of the rosy beams of 

 the morning, the last to bid the sun good-night. 

 Perfect specimens, unhurt by running fires or 

 lightning, are singularly regular and symmetrical 

 in general form, though not at all conventional, 

 showing infinite variety in sure unity and har- 

 mony of plan. The immensely strong, stately 

 shafts, with rich purplish brown bark, are free of 

 limbs for a hundred and fifty feet or so, though 

 dense tufts of sprays occur here and there, pro- 

 ducing an ornamental effect, while long parallel 

 furrows give a fluted columnar appearance. It 

 shoots forth its limbs with equal boldness in every 

 direction, showing no weather side. On the old 

 trees the main branches are crooked and rugged, 

 and strike rigidly outward mostly at right angles 

 from the trunk, but there is always a certain 



