16 TRUE BEAR STORIES.

tangle of undergrowth and a mass of fallen
timber. What a feast for flames! In one
of the very old books on America in the
British Museum—possibly the very oldest
on the subject—the author tells of the
park-like appearance of the American for-
ests. He tells his English friends back at
home that it is most comfortable to ride
to the hounds, “since the Indian squats
(Squaws) do set fire to the brush and leaves
every spring,” etc.

But the “squats” had long since disap-
peared from the forests of Mount Shasta;
and here we were tumbling over and tear-
ing through ten years’ or more of accumu-
lation of logs, brush, leaves, weeds and
grass that lay waiting for a sea of fire to
roll over all like a mags of lava.

And now the wind blew past and over
us. Bits of white ashes sifted down like
snow. Surely the sea of fire was coming,
coming right on after us! Still there was
no sign, save this little sift of ashes, no
sound; nothing at all except the trained