THE SEQUOIA 2K7 



ing views of the fertile forest-filled basin of the 

 upper Fresno. Innumerable spires of the noble 

 yellow pine were displayed rising- above one an- 

 other on the braided slopes, and yet nobler sugar 

 pines with superb arms outstretched in the rich 

 autumn light, while away toward the southwest, 

 on the verge of the glowing horizon, I discov- 

 ered the majestic dome-like crowns of Big Trees 

 towering high over all, singly and in close grove 

 congregations. There is something wonderfully 

 attractive in this king tree, even when beheld 

 from afar, that draws us to it with indescrib- 

 able enthusiasm ; its superior height and mas- 

 sive smoothly rounded outlines proclaiming its 

 character in any company ; and when one of 

 the oldest attains full stature on some com- 

 manding ridge it seems the very god of the 

 woods. I ran back to camp, packed Brownie, 

 steered over the divide and down into the heart 

 of the Fresno Grove. Then choosing a camp 

 on the side of a brook where the grass was good, 

 I made a cup of tea, and set off free among the 

 brown giants, glorying in the abundance of new 

 work about me. One of the first special things 

 that caught my attention was an extensive land- 

 slip. The ground on the side of a stream had 

 given way to a depth of about fifty feet and 

 with all its trees had been launched into the bot- 

 tom of the stream ravine. Most of the trees — 

 pines, firs, incense cedar, and Sequoia — were still 



