ke shock; but late in 1811 or early in
1812, I think there is no doubt that he experienced a violent shock,
for he made extensive records of it. This earthquake occurred after
the sap had ceased to flow in 1811, and before it began to flow in the
spring of 1812. In places the wood was checked and shattered. At one
point, some distance from the ground, there was a bad horizontal
break. Two big roots were broken in two, and that quarter of the tree
which faced the cliffs had suffered from a rock bombardment. I
suppose the violence of the quake displaced many rocks, and some of
these, as they came bounding down the mountain-side, collided with Old
Pine. One, of about five pounds' weight, struck him so violently in
the side that it remained embedded there. After some years the wound
was healed over, but this fragment remained in the tree until I
released it.

During 1859 some one made an axe-mark on the old pine that may have
been intended for a trail-blaze, and during the same year another fire
badly burned and scarred his ankle. I wonder if some prospectors came
this way in 1859 and made camp by him.

Another record of man's visits to the tree was made in the summer of
1881, when I think a hunting or outing party may have camped near here
and amused themselves by shooting at a mark on Old Pine's ankle.
Several modern rifle-bullets were found embedded in the wood around or
just beneath a blaze which was made on the tree the same year in which
the bullets had entered it. As both these marks were made during the
year 1881, it is at least possible that this year the old pine was
used as the background for a target during a shooting contest.

While I was working over the old pine, a Douglas squirrel who lived
near by used every day to stop in his busy harvesting of pine-cones to
look on and scold me. As I watched him placing his cones in a hole in
the ground under the pine-needles, I often wondered if one of his
buried cones would remain there uneaten to germinate and expand ever
green into the air, and become a noble giant to live as long and as
useful a life as Old Pine. I found myself trying to picture the scenes
in which this tree would stand when the birds came singing back from
the Southland in the springtime of the year 3000.

After I had finished my work of splitting, studying, and deciphering
the fragments of the old pine, I went to the sawmill and arranged for
the men to come over that evening after I had departe