and
squirrels, wolves and sheep, birds and bees, but as far as I have seen,
man alone, and the animals he tames, destroy these gardens. Awkward,
lumbering bears, the Don tells me, love to wallow in them in hot
weather, and deer with their sharp feet cross them again and again,
sauntering and feeding, yet never a lily have I seen spoiled by them.
Rather, like gardeners, they seem to cultivate them, pressing and
dibbling as required. Anyhow not a leaf or petal seems misplaced.

The trees round about them seem as perfect in beauty and form as the
lilies, their boughs whorled like lily leaves in exact order. This
evening, as usual, the glow of our camp-fire is working enchantment on
everything within reach of its rays. Lying beneath the firs, it is
glorious to see them dipping their spires in the starry sky, the sky
like one vast lily meadow in bloom! How can I close my eyes on so
precious a night?

_July 10._ A Douglas squirrel, peppery, pungent autocrat of the woods,
is barking overhead this morning, and the small forest birds, so seldom
seen when one travels noisily, are out on sunny branches along the edge
of the meadow getting warm, taking a sun bath and dew bath--a fine
sight. How charming the sprightly confident looks and ways of these
little feathered people of the trees! They seem sure of dainty,
wholesome breakfasts, and where are so many breakfasts to come from? How
helpless should we find ourselves should we try to set a table for them
of such buds, seeds, insects, etc., as would keep them in the pure wild
health they enjoy! Not a headache or any other ache amongst them, I
guess. As for the irrepressible Douglas squirrels, one never thinks of
their breakfasts or the possibility of hunger, sickness or death; rather
they seem like stars above chance or change, even though we may see them
at times busy gathering burrs, working hard for a living.

On through the forest ever higher we go, a cloud of dust dimming the
way, thousands of feet trampling leaves and flowers, but in this mighty
wilderness they seem but a feeble band, and a thousand gardens will
escape their blighting touch. They cannot hurt the trees, though some of
the seedlings suffer, and should the woolly locusts be greatly
multiplied, as on account of dollar value they are likely to be, then
the forests, too, may in time be destroyed. Only the sky will then be
safe, though hid from view by dust and smoke, incense of a bad
sacrifice. Poor, helpless,