e
beholding, you will always wonder why no one who has seen has ever
given any one who has not seen an adequate idea of these magnificent
old trees.

Perhaps the most insistent note, besides that of mere size and dignity,
is of absolute stillness. These trees do not sway to the wind, their
trunks are constructed to stand solid. Their branches do not bend and
murmur, for they too are rigid in fiber. Their fine thread-like
needles may catch the breeze's whisper, may draw together and apart for
the exchange of confidences as do the leaves of other trees, but if so,
you and I are too far below to distinguish it. All about, the other
forest growths may be rustling and bowing and singing with the voices
of the air; the Sequoia stands in the hush of an absolute calm. It is
as though he dreamed, too wrapt in still great thoughts of his youth,
when the earth itself was young, to share the worldlier joys of his
neighbor, to be aware of them, even himself to breathe deeply. You feel
in the presence of these trees as you would feel in the presence of a
kindly and benignant sage, too occupied with larger things to enter
fully into your little affairs, but well disposed in the wisdom of
clear spiritual insight.

This combination of dignity, immobility, and a certain serene
detachment has on me very much the same effect as does a mountain
against the sky. It is quite unlike the impression made by any other
tree, however large, and is lovable.

We entered the Giant Forest by a trail that climbed. Always we entered
desirable places by trails that climbed or dropped. Our access to
paradise was never easy. About halfway up we met five pack-mules and
two men coming down. For some reason, unknown, I suspect, even to the
god of chance, our animals behaved themselves and walked straight ahead
in a beautiful dignity, while those weak-minded mules scattered and
bucked and scraped under trees and dragged back on their halters when
caught. The two men cast on us malevolent glances as often as they
were able, but spent most of their time swearing and running about. We
helped them once or twice by heading off, but were too thankfully
engaged in treading lightly over our own phenomenal peace to pay much
attention. Long after we had gone on, we caught bursts of rumpus
ascending from below. Shortly we came to a comparatively level
country, and a little meadow, and a rough sign which read

"Feed 20C a night."

Just beyond this exto