In The Number Of
Individual Trees And Extent Of Range This Curious Little Conifer
Surpasses All The Others Combined.
Nearly every mountain in the State
is planted with it from near the base to a height of from eight
thousand to nine thousand feet above the sea.
Some are covered from
base to summit by this one species, with only a sparse growth of
juniper on the lower slopes to break the continuity of these curious
woods, which, though dark-looking at a little distance, are yet almost
shadeless, and without any hint of the dark glens and hollows so
characteristic of other pine woods. Tens of thousands of acres occur
in one continuous belt. Indeed, viewed comprehensively, the entire
State seems to be pretty evenly divided into mountain ranges covered
with nut pines and plains covered with sage - now a swath of pines
stretching from north to south, now a swath of sage; the one black,
the other gray; one severely level, the other sweeping on complacently
over ridge and valley and lofty crowning dome.
The real character of a forest of this sort would never be guessed by
the inexperienced observer. Traveling across the sage levels in the
dazzling sunlight, you gaze with shaded eyes at the mountains rising
along their edges, perhaps twenty miles away, but no invitation that
is at all likely to be understood is discernible. Every mountain,
however high it swells into the sky, seem utterly barren. Approaching
nearer, a low brushy growth is seen, strangely black in aspect, as
though it had been burned. This is a nut pine forest, the bountiful
orchard of the red man. When you ascend into its midst you find the
ground beneath the trees, and in the openings also, nearly naked, and
mostly rough on the surface - a succession of crumbling ledges of lava,
limestones, slate, and quartzite, coarsely strewn with soil weathered
from the. Here and there occurs a bunch of sage or linosyris, or a
purple aster, or a tuft of dry bunch-grass.
The harshest mountainsides, hot and waterless, seem best adapted to
the nut pine's development. No slope is too steep, none too dry;
every situation seems to be gratefully chosen, if only it be
sufficiently rocky and firm to afford secure anchorage for the tough,
grasping roots. It is a sturdy, thickset little tree, usually about
fifteen feet high when full grown, and about as broad as high, holding
its knotty branches well out in every direction in stiff zigzags, but
turning them gracefully upward at the ends in rounded bosses. Though
making so dark a mass in the distance, the foliage is a pale grayish
green, in stiff, awl-shaped fascicles. When examined closely these
round needles seem inclined to be two-leaved, but they are mostly held
firmly together, as if to guard against evaporation. The bark on the
older sections is nearly black, so that the boles and branches are
clearly traced against the prevailing gray of the mountains on which
they delight to dwell.
The value of this species to Nevada is not easily overestimated. It
furnishes fuel, charcoal, and timber for the mines, and, together with
the enduring juniper, so generally associated with it, supplies the
ranches with abundance of firewood and rough fencing. Many a square
mile has already been denuded in supplying these demands, but, so
great is the area covered by it, no appreciable loss has as yet been
sustained. It is pretty generally known that this tree yields edible
nuts, but their importance and excellence as human food is infinitely
greater than is supposed. In fruitful seasons like this one, the pine
nut crop of Nevada is, perhaps, greater than the entire wheat crop of
California, concerning which so much is said and felt throughout the
food markets of the world.
The Indians alone appreciate this portion of Nature's bounty and
celebrate the harvest home with dancing and feasting. The cones,
which are a bright grass-green in color and about two inches long by
one and a half in diameter, are beaten off with poles just before the
scales open, gathered in heaps of several bushels, and lightly
scorched by burning a thin covering of brushwood over them. The
resin, with which the cones are bedraggled, is thus burned off, the
nuts slightly roasted, and the scales made to open. Then they are
allowed to dry in the sun, after which the nuts are easily thrashed
out and are ready to be stored away. They are about half an inch long
by a quarter of an inch in diameter, pointed at the upper end, rounded
at the base, light brown in general color, and handsomely dotted with
purple, like birds' eggs. The shells are thin, and may be crushed
between the thumb and finger. The kernels are white and waxy-looking,
becoming brown by roasting, sweet and delicious to every palate, and
are eaten by birds, squirrels, dogs, horses, and man. When the crop
is abundant the Indians bring in large quantities for sale; they are
eaten around every fireside in the State, and oftentimes fed to horses
instead of barley.
Looking over the whole continent, none of Nature's bounties seems to
me so great as this in the way of food, none so little appreciated.
Fortunately for the Indians and wild animals that gather around
Nature's board, this crop is not easily harvested in a monopolizing
way. If it could be gathered like wheat the whole would be carried
away and dissipated in towns, leaving the brave inhabitants of these
wilds to starve.
Long before the harvest time, which is in September and October, the
Indians examine the trees with keen discernment, and inasmuch as the
cones require two years to mature from the first appearance of the
little red rosettes of the fertile flowers, the scarcity or abundance
of the crop may be predicted more than a year in advance. Squirrels,
and worms, and Clarke crows, make haste to begin the harvest.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 36 of 81
Words from 35851 to 36852
of 82482
