CALIFORNIA WHITE OAK. 69 



heaps upon the ground, as though it were not enough to 

 canopy and cloud the sky and the horizon round about, but 

 these sweet, fragrant, summer-green White Oaks must needs 

 carpet the earth in softer living green beneath our feet, and 

 luxuriously couch and pillow the pilgrim devoted to sylvan 

 beauty. Truly, in the best sense of the expression, are these 

 covered and floored, and so supereminently symbolize the 

 external and natural achievements and scientifics of life. 

 Forth from the secluded vale behold this White Oak abroad 

 on the fruitful plain; witness his extended wreaths flung 

 free and far o'er the bosom of the wind, and contemplatively, 

 who can tell the happy hearts that have swayed or swung 

 sympathetic in these boughs, quietly, gracefully responsive to 

 the breeze, like a floating song, anon bearing the soul aloft, 

 serenely soaring in peace, chanting its joy to the echoing air 

 " like music wandering o'er the boughs." 



The acorns are stored by the Indian; the woodpecker and 

 the jay make holes in the bark and drive the germinal end 

 in for their winter food. The native stores them largely for 

 bread — he will exchange or slight your bread for his own 

 "pone." The acorns are hulled and prepared for cooking by 

 a little beating and then piled on a tiny sand mound, often 

 in size and shape of a large milkpan turned bottom up, duly 

 leached thereon, then made into cakes and baked in the ashes. 

 This also was the dainty dish of our forefathers, as it still is 

 of the wild man of the wood, serves as of yore to feed his 

 flesh and oil his sinews for the chase. They are deemed 

 good food tor domestic and wild animals, especially the hog, 

 bear, deer, etc., but if hogs feed on them green, as cut by the 

 impatient squirrel, they are apt to cause a kidney disease, 

 whereby they lose the use of their hind legs and die. Toasted 

 and ground for a coffee, they claim repute for the king's 

 evil, etc., this acorn is aptest of all to premature^ germinate. 



The timber is reasonably tough when young and thrifty, 

 but becomes brittle and brashy with the infirmities of age; 

 often late in the season when the hot sun broils and steams 

 the sap, as it were, internally, an ax struck into it hisses like 

 a legion of little safety valves, similar to the Post Oak of the 

 south ; and sometimes, most unaccountably, it is said to burst 

 with a loud explosion, and strong limbs that had hitherto 

 withstood centuries of storms, in the calm airs of late sum- 

 mer and early autumn crash unexpectedly down, the fracture 

 disclosing not the least cause of weakness. I believe this 

 only happens in the hotter valleys and exposures, and is 

 never known of any evergreen oak at any season. As all 

 great men are supposed to have their satalites, apes, and 

 namesakes, so have the trees. Prof. Brewer and Mr. Lemmon 

 are credited with a variety of this oak, two to six feet high — 

 fruticosa, now Q. Breweri. By a venerable tradition of our 

 forefathers it was deemed unlucky to cut down any celebrated 



