etter than maple sugar. It exudes from the heart-wood,
where wounds have been made, either by forest fires, or the ax, in the
shape of irregular, crisp, candy-like kernels, which are crowded
together in masses of considerable size, like clusters of resin-beads.
When fresh, it is perfectly white and delicious, but, because most of
the wounds on which it is found have been made by fire, the exuding sap
is stained on the charred surface, and the hardened sugar becomes brown.
Indians are fond of it, but on account of its laxative properties only
small quantities may be eaten. Bears, so fond of sweet things in
general, seem never to taste it; at least I have failed to find any
trace of their teeth in this connection.

No lover of trees will ever forget his first meeting with the Sugar
Pine, nor will he afterward need a poet to call him to "listen what the
pine-tree saith." In most pine-trees there is a sameness of expression,
which, to most people, is apt to become monotonous; for the typical
spiry form, however beautiful, affords but little scope for appreciable
individual character. The Sugar Pine is as free from conventionalities
of form and motion as any oak. No two are alike, even to the most
inattentive observer; and, notwithstanding they are ever tossing out
their immense arms in what might seem most extravagant gestures, there
is a majesty and repose about them that precludes all possibility of the
grotesque, or even picturesque, in their general expression. They are
the priests of pines, and seem ever to be addressing the surrounding
forest. The Yellow Pine is found growing with them on warm hillsides,
and the White Silver Fir on cool northern slopes; but, noble as these
are, the Sugar Pine is easily king, and spreads his arms above them in
blessing while they rock and wave in sign of recognition. The main
branches are sometimes found to be forty feet in length, yet
persistently simple, seldom dividing at all, excepting near the end; but
anything like a bare cable appearance is prevented by the small,
tasseled branchlets that extend all around them; and when these superb
limbs sweep out symmetrically on all sides, a crown sixty or seventy
feet wide is formed, which, gracefully poised on the summit of the noble
shaft, and filled with sunshine, is one of the most glorious forest
objects conceivable. Commonly, however, there is a great preponderance
of limbs toward the east, away from the direction of the prevailing
wi