THE EARTH AS IT WAS BEFORE THE COMING OF CIVILIZED MEN

For ages, on the silent forest here,
Thy beams did fall before the red man came
To dwell beneath them; in their shade the deer
Fed, and feared not the arrow’s deadly aim.
Nor tree was felled, in all that world of woods,
Save by the beaver’s tooth, or winds, or rush of floods.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT, A Walk at Sunset

The earth has not always been as it is now. Those parts now possessed by the more civilized peoples have been very greatly changed. If we could look back and see some of the countries as they were long ago, we should hardly know them. In certain lands the forests have been cut down, the wild creatures driven away, and the soil so carelessly cultivated that it has become poor. In other lands Nature’s gifts have been carefully used; even the barren deserts have been turned into green fields and blooming gardens for hundreds of miles.

Let us try to picture to ourselves how our own country looked when white men first found and explored it. A few hundred years ago it was the home of wild animals and Indians only. We have been given our freedom in one of the richest of Nature’s gardens, and, like so many children, have tried to see who could gather the most treasures from it. We have given little attention to keeping up the garden.

If you have been in some part of the country that is still wild and unsettled, it will help you to form a picture of how the entire land once looked. If you have been in one of our great natural parks, this will be a better help. In these parks everything remains just as Nature made it. There the animals, birds, and plants are free to live their lives unmolested. Is it not a good thing that our government has been wise enough to have large tracts of land left in just the condition in which the whole country was when our ancestors first came?

We will think of our whole land, then, as a great wild park, rich in all kinds of animal and plant life. It was not an altogether happy family that lived in this park, for all were struggling for food, drink, and sunshine. But as none were possessed of such deadly weapons as those of civilized man, no one kind of animal was able to kill off all of any other kind.

Neither the Indians in their wigwams, nor the wild animals in their lairs, nor the birds singing in the trees, nor the ducks quacking in the marshes dreamed of the change that was coming to their homes. They did not dream of civilized man with his terrible weapons and his many needs, who was to change the whole appearance of the country and nearly or quite exterminate many of them.

The life of the Indians was almost as simple as that of the lower animals. Their clothing required little care. Their homes were easily made. Some of them had learned to cultivate the soil, but they depended mainly upon food obtained by hunting, and such roots, berries, and nuts as the women could collect. If we could have looked down on our land as the bird does, we should have seen little sign of human inhabitants. There were no roads or bridges, and only indistinct trails led from one village to another.

In the far Southwest there were people quite different from those of whom we have been speaking. They were called the Pueblo Indians. In Mexico there were similar people called the Aztecs. All these Indians still live in permanent stone villages, as they did a thousand years ago. They learned more about Nature than the wandering Indians, but we do not believe they would ever become civilized if left to themselves.

The only animal that the Indians had tamed was the wolf. They made little use of the wolf-dog except in the far North, where it drew their sleds over the snow.

Some of the Indians of our country once knew of the use of copper, but it had been forgotten when white men first came.

All about the Indians was the same world that surrounds us. In truth, it was a richer world in some ways, for since then many of its treasures have been lost through greed and waste.

The rich soil of the valleys was almost undisturbed. The forests were uncut save for an occasional tree used in making a canoe or a rude cabin. The forests suffered only at the hands of the insects, storms, and fires. The flowers that covered the ground in spring went ungathered. The vast grassy prairies were disturbed only by the feeding of such animals as the buffalo, elk, deer, and antelope.

A single great forest spread over all the mountains and valleys of the eastern part of our country. Now you can travel for many miles in the more thickly settled portions of this region and see not a single tree of the original forest.

To the west of the forest came the prairies and plains. Still farther west came lofty mountains and desert valleys. On these Western mountains were other forests with trees of wonderful size.

This great natural park, with its long seacoasts, rivers, lakes, marshes, dense woods, and open plains, was a paradise for wild creatures of every description, and the Indian was contented to leave it so.

Grizzly and black bears roamed the thickets. Elk wandered through the mountains and valleys. Deer were abundant everywhere. The antelope raced over the plains, mountain goats and sheep lived among the rocks, and moose filled the Northern woods. Great herds of buffalo darkened the surface of the plains. When the first railroad was built across the plains, less than fifty years ago, the trains were sometimes stopped by herds of buffalo crossing the track.

Most of the songbirds that filled the country then are still with us, for they were of little commercial value to the hunter. No other land has richer bird music than ours. Many of the birds that are valuable for food are, however, nearly extinct. Now we have laws for their protection, but these laws went into effect too late to save some species. The passenger pigeon is one of our greatest losses.

The cutting down of the vast forests that once covered the Eastern states, and the cultivation of fields, has helped to drive many of the wild creatures away. We are just beginning to learn how poor our country would be if we lost them all. Refuges are being established in many places, where those birds and animals most in danger of extinction may live safe from the hunter.

The coast waters, lakes, and streams of our country were once alive with fish. The Indians made use of them, but their rude traps did not catch enough to affect the number seriously. We have fished with every kind of trap that the brightest fisherman could think of. Many important food fishes are now very much reduced in numbers. The fur seal and sea otter are so nearly gone that only the most watchful protection will save them from extinction.

The land, as the Indian knew it, was beautiful, and was filled with everything that one could wish. But the Indian did not know how to use it. He lived a poor life, suffering from cold and hunger.

We came into the possession of a land unspoiled by its primitive inhabitants. It was just as Nature made it. In a few short years we have almost exterminated the Indian. We have swept away a large part of the forests. We have almost destroyed many of the species of animals and birds. We have robbed the soil and injured the flow of the rivers. Some of this loss we could not help, for when many millions of people occupy a land there must be many changes. But for the losses that we have needlessly and carelessly caused we shall sometime be sorry.

Do you not think we are wise in seeking how to take better care of this land of ours?

Such beautiful things in the heart of the woods!
Flowers and ferns and the soft green moss;
Such love of the birds in the solitudes,
Where the swift winds glance and the treetops toss;
Spaces of silence swept with song,
Which nobody hears but the God above;
Spaces where myriad creatures throng,
Sunning themselves in his guarding love.

Such safety and peace in the heart of the woods!
Far from the city’s dust and din,
Where passion nor hate nor man intrudes,
Nor fashion nor folly has entered in.
Deeper than hunter’s trail hath gone
Glimmers the tarn where the wild deer drink;
And fearless and free comes the gentle fawn,
To peep at herself o’er the grassy brink.

Such pledges of love in the heart of the woods!
For the Maker of all things keeps the feast,
And over the tiny flowers broods
With care that for ages has never ceased.
If he cares for this, will he not for thee
Thee, wherever thou art today?
Child of an infinite Father, see;
And safe in such gentlest keeping stay.

MARGARET E. SANGSTER, in American Forestry, XIV