318 OUR NATIONAL PARKS 



if I reached it before it was shut down for the 

 season. 



Of all the Tule basin forest the section on the 

 North Fork seemed the finest, surpassing, I think, 

 even the Giant Forest of the Kaweah. South- 

 ward from here, though the width and general 

 continuity of the belt is well sustained, I thought 

 I could detect a slight falling off in the height 

 of the trees and in closeness of growth. All the 

 basin was swept by swarms of hoofed locusts, 

 the southern part over and over again, until not 

 a leaf within reach was left on the wettest bogs, 

 the outer edges of the thorniest chaparral beds, 

 or even on the young conifers, which, unless 

 under the stress of dire famine, sheep never 

 touch. Of course Brownie suffered, though I 

 made diligent search for grassy sheep-proof spots. 

 Turning him loose one evening on the side of a 

 carex bog, he dolefully prospected the desolate 

 neighborhood without finding anything that even 

 a starving mule could eat. Then, utterly dis- 

 couraged, he stole up behind me while I was bent 

 over on my knees making a fire for tea, and in 

 a pitiful mixture of bray and neigh, begged for 

 help. It was a mighty touching prayer, and I 

 answered it as well as I could with half of what 

 was left of a cake made from the last of the 

 flour given me by the Indians, hastily passing it 

 over my shoulder, and saying, " Yes, poor fellow, 

 I know, but soon you '11 have plenty. To-mor- 



