Forenote: Although the following is a story of Paul Bunyon, the mythical logger loved throughout the northwest, yet the facts regarding Nature herself are true.

Now many people have wondered and marveled at the deep canyons in the bottoms of the glacial-cut valleys which radiate from Crater Lake. Geologists tell us that they were formed by water and wind which found the pumice and ash, which prevails in these valleys and on the slopes, easily worn away. This pumice soil, you understand, is a light porous material and offers no great resistance to such persistent and powerful forces as wind and water. Believe those learned men if you will, and they are right to a certain extent, but as for me, I learned the real story from that venerable old white pine which stands in one of these very canyons and he saw it all. How this wise old fellow has a reputation for great age and that coupled with his intimidating size make of him a force that must be reckoned with. However, he and I are good friends and so one warm afternoon he told me the following story.

"Now it was this way" he sighed, his voice coming down to me from the branches high above my head. "This remarkable fellow, Paul Bunyon, had turned into a recluse. Yes he had. Along with the notoriety which attends fame came a clamoring public anxious to inspect him at close hand. Finally to gain peace, he left his logging operations and came up here to the lake to rest. All went well until word leaked out as to his whereabouts", and here the old fellow tossed his head in a gust of wind and mumbled something about the treachery of pine beetles. "Anyway", he continued, "it was not long before curious folk were seeking him out up here in the park. It is true that he could climb to some inaccessible part of the inside rim of the lake, but because of his size he would still be visible. It was an old badger, curse him, who finally told Paul of a way to save himself. Now there were gentle streams flowing through these valleys but because of trees like myself and mainly because of the carpet of sedge grasses and brush, these streams had not cut deeply into the ground. But, thanks to that badger who probably because of his burrows in the ground knows something of geology and the workings of erosion, this fellow Bunyon armed himself with a hoe and began to scrape out the brush and trees along the banks of the creeks. Why he spared me I don't know, unless it was because of my unusual beauty", and here this vain ancient smiled to himself, "but anyway, I was spared. With the protective vegetation gone" he went on in a more serious tone, "it was only a matter of time until these canyons were cut out. Now Bunyan could hide himself in peace. He would camp in some deep forest with a chasm between him and his pestering public". Here the story teller broke into such violent laughter that a cone dropped down on my head and sent me hurriedly up the canyon to Government Camp.