io8 THE ADVENTURES OF A NATURE GUIDE 



and a Winchester, and told to leave the country 

 speedily. I saw the futility of argument and 

 quickly complied. 



Arriving an hour or so later on Buchanan Pass, 

 about eleven thousand feet above sea level, I looked 

 back down the mountain. With the recent en- 

 counter fresh in mind, I did not wish to risk again 

 being taken for a lunatic or a suspicious character. 

 No one was in sight, so I stopped to examine a 

 number of the sprawling storm-battered trees, 

 soon becoming absorbed in their interesting fea- 

 tures. 



The place was dry and wind-swept. Most of 

 the trees were limber pines. Along the Continen- 

 tal Divide the wind blows violently, sometimes 

 for days. Many of the trees were so wind-worn 

 that they appeared a million years old. Numbers 

 were able to grow only a foot or so above the level 

 of the earth. The wind's terrific sand blasts cut 

 off every exposed leaf and twig. At one place 

 nearly an acre was covered with low, dense tree 

 growth. Having a low shelter to the windward 

 the trees had grown up to the height of nearly two 

 feet. Above this they were trimmed off almost 

 as level as a lawn. Again and again, through count- 

 less summers, the twigs had grown up, only to be 

 mown off the following winter by flying sand. 

 This had resulted in a crowded, matted, spiny 

 growth, more dense and a great deal more rigid 

 than a hedge top that has been annually trimmed 



