THE SEQUOIA 307 



he were a good-natured boy in distress, and then 

 the labor grew lighter. Bidding good-by to the 

 kind Sequoia cave-dweller, we vanished again in 

 the wilderness, drifting slowly southward, Se- 

 quoias on every ridge-top beckoning and point- 

 ing the way. 



In the forest between the Middle and East 

 forks of the Kaweah, I met a great fire, and as 

 fire is the master scourge and controller of the 

 distribution of trees, I stopped to watch it and 

 learn what I could of its works and ways with 

 the giants. It came racing up the steep chapar- 

 ral-covered slopes of the East Fork canon with 

 passionate enthusiasm in a broad cataract of 

 flames, now bending down low to feed on the 

 green bushes, devouring acres of them at a 

 breath, now towering high in the air as if look- 

 ing abroad to choose a way, then stooping to 

 feed again, the lurid flapping surges and the 

 smoke and terrible rushing and roaring hiding 

 all that is gentle and orderly in the work. But 

 as soon as the deep forest was reached the un- 

 governable flood became calm like a torrent en- 

 tering a lake, creeping and spreading beneath 

 the trees where the ground was level or sloped 

 gently, slowly nibbling the cake of compressed 

 needles and scales with flames an inch high, ris- 

 ing here and there to a foot or two on dry twigs 

 and clumps of small bushes and brome grass. 

 Only at considerable intervals were fierce bonfires 



