In time, a certain phrase, current throughout that part of the world, was used to describe this pleasant country: "A land flowing with milk and honey!"
Unfortunately, it was a land, also, which could not fail, in the flower of its wealth and luxury, to attract the attention of those savage northerners who lived beyond this favored land. They came, they saw, and eventually they conquered. When Rome had definitely destroyed the flower of Asia Minor's civilization, the Roman proconsuls and merchants "rescued" and carried back to Italy many of the rarest of Mesopotamia's possessions. Among these, perhaps, were those indispensable wonder-workers among the flowers, the better bees of Persia. And this may be the reason why, these many centuries later, our bee experts still recommend that, if we wish to increase the strength and productivity of a backward hive of bees, we buy and introduce into the hive an Italian queen. Her ancient and still prepotent virility can almost invariable be relied upon to transfuse the colony with new and fruitful vigor. An "Italian" queen, is it? We wonder, as we think of that venerable land of Eden which once flowed with milk and honey, whether this so-called Italian queen might not more correctly be named Persian.
You see, in this story we are traveling backwards into history like Ally Oop in his time machine. But beyond Persia one can go only in imagination. For the Persians, too, were a conquering nation and, no doubt, gathered their booty of gold and sheep and camels, of flowers and bees, from all the then known world which was subject to them. So perhaps Persia, too, has no more right to label her treasures Persian than has Italy with her presumably mislabeled Italian bees, nor England with her undoubtedly mislabeled English walnuts. However, the work of Johnny Appleseed has always belonged, not to his tribe nor to his locality, but to the world. These same Persian walnuts take rank among the better clues by which migrations of the Aryans may be traced over the face of the earth. For instance, not only do they take root easily in the mild, friendly climate of California, but much hardier strains are found to have climbed the Carpathians and the steppes of Russia almost to the very doors of Moscow. Scions of these hardier strains have very recently been made to grow and yield their nuts in America as far north as Toronto and are being set out in numbers in the northern part of the United States. How well they will prosper in this new, more variable and chilly climate remains to be seen, but the start is made. No doubt it will be by Johnny's old method of patient and repeated selection, first for hardiness then for quality, that the planned result will be accomplished.
The contributions of Persia and the plantings of its forgotten scientists have here merely been touched on. Nothing, for instance, has been said about her great groves of mulberry trees, which led to silk-worms, which led to silk, which led to the production of jewel-bright vegetable dyes, which led to the development of a decorative art in fabrics that is rivaled by China, alone, in all the world. And of course, Aryan Persia is only one of the many treasure centers of ancient civilization. In scores of racial settlements elsewhere our lives today are being changed and enriched in innumerable ways by the hands of those old miracle-workers whose names were writ in water and whose works are immortal. The accomplishments of China are of such magnitude that even now we are only beginning to discover our debt to her. India, Indo-China, Mongolia, Manchuria, Japan—all have similar backgrounds. Even in the United States, young as it is, the migrations of pre-historic races have left their trails in the gardens and forests around us. Pecans from the South, for example, have been carried North and are gradually developing hardy strains that survived in Indiana and Illinois groves.
Enough has been said to blaze the way to the end at which I have been driving. It may begin to look as though modern plant explorers have now followed the plant-spoor of human migrations to their final limits. It may look, too, as though the ends of these converging trails will find civilization at last firmly established. Or will they?
The future race, let us admit, may eventually be able, by means of an almost unthinkable development of food, clothing, building and medical supplies of a synthetic or semi-synthetic nature, to dispense with some of the agriculture we know. This is the prediction of some scientists. Let it stand. What then is to be done with the land upon which our food crops had formerly been raised? Manifestly, it must again be covered with hurricane-control, flood-control, and erosion-control vegetation, chiefly trees, perhaps. Trees for safety's sake, trees for beauty's sake, for recreation's sake, trees for food's—yes, food's sake, for flavor and health, trees and vegetation as sources for the very synthetic that are supposed to supplant them; and last but not least, trees and vegetation for the protection and perpetuation of animal life, of bird life, and insect life. All these are inseparably bound up with human life.
Come what may at the hands of a short-sighted human race, no matter what surface changes may come about in human eating habits, housing styles, farming or factory practice, still the winds will sweep the earth in hurricanes where there is nothing to impede them; the waters and ice of the heavens will still tear apart and level the hills, will gash the valleys and will carry off the earth and dump it into the sea. Following this, the sun will burn the unprotected earth into a cinder. Nothing can change these facts. From the beginning of life upon the earth, trees and vegetation have been the chief means by which a balance has been maintained between the antagonistically destructive and creative natures of the elements.
Do we realize fully, I wonder, how important is the work of this group and the parent NNGA? The interest of its members is chiefly in "wild" trees that produce food crops—mainly, but not exclusively, nut crops. And they are interested not merely in planting and testing names and known varieties, but in finding and testing the best individuals among the wild trees, planting selected seed, enjoying the exciting gamble which is always sealed up in the magic, unknown potentialities of a hybrid.
As, centuries ago, the Persian walnut was rescued from the forest and developed into the splendid nut we know today, so the American black walnut can be rescued; its nut can be improved and developed by selection and cross-breeding. It is a grand mahogany-like timber tree which is becoming far too scarce. Each war takes its toll for gun stocks. Its nuts are the only nuts within my knowledge, not even excepting our lost American chestnuts, that retain their full distinctive flavor through cooking. Nothing can replace its flavor in candy or cake making. The tree is indigenous to America and, in contrast to the Persian, has only decades, rather than centuries of selective breeding behind it. No one can tell what even one short century of intelligent selection may make of this great tree.
We Americans, in fact, have barely started on the Appleseed trail, a trail which tends toward the development of a permanent perennial, rather than annual, type of agriculture, with trees, shrubs, vines and perennial grasses its chief interest. For, no matter what chemistry has in store for us in the way of plastics for construction and of synthetics for foods and drugs, the good earth is still our sole source of supply. The chestnut, the mulberry, persimmon, pawpaw, pecan, hickory, wild cherry, the grape, the elderberry in fact the whole tribe of fruits and nuts with flavors found nowhere else on earth—all are growing along this ancient trail. They offer an infinite variety of opportunity for exploration and discovery. To work with them gives one a sense of sharing in the work of creation.