16 Our Field and Forest Trees 



made. Inside every seed there is a baby plant, 

 very tiny and tightly folded up, but perfectly 

 formed. But the grains of powder which blow 

 away from a forest fungus have no tiny plants 

 inside. They have life, however, and the power 

 to grow. Fungus spores are so light and dry that 

 they rise into the air like smoke, and so small that 

 they are carried long distances by the wind. 



In late summer and early autumn the fungus 

 brackets on the sides of the trees are shedding 

 this dust in enormous quantities. It alights wher- 

 ever the wind leaves it. Most of the little grains 

 are cast where they cannot grow at all ; but some 

 are carried to places where the trees have been 

 cut or wounded so that the wood is laid bare. If 

 a fungus spore alights on such a spot it immedi- 

 ately begins to grow. A woodman's blaze or the 

 scrape made by the downfall of a tree-neighbor 

 gives the spore of a tree-killing fungus a chance to 

 get in. Boring insects open channels by which 

 spores can enter. A wound made by gnawing 

 teeth may afford an opening to the enemy. 



But no wounds are so Injurious to the trees as 

 those made by the breaking of boughs. Paths of 

 windstorms can often be traced through the forest 

 by streaks of punky timber. Wind-breaks have 

 allowed spores of a tree-killing fungus to reach 

 the wood of trunks and boughs. 



A fungus spore blown to a stump finds a large 

 surface of raw wood — just the home it has been 



