As they worked, they talked quite knowingly among themselves of how the little shrubs they were planting would bind the soil so that it could not get away, and of how new soil would form under the trees. By and by seeds would drop, and, in a few years, they would be picking both strawberries and raspberries where now there were only bare rocks. The little shrubs which they were planting would gradually become tall trees. Perhaps big houses and great splendid ships would be built from them!
If the children had not come here and planted while there was still a little soil in the clefts, all the earth would have been carried away by winds and water, and the mountain could never more have been clothed in green.
"It was well that we came," said the children. "We were just in the nick of time." They felt very important.
While they were working on the mountain their parents were at home. By and by they began to wonder how the children were getting along.
Of course it was only a joke about their planting a forest, but it might be amusing to see what they were trying to do.
So presently both fathers and mothers were on their way to the forest. When they came to the outlying stock farms they met some of their neighbors.
"Are you going to the fire-swept mountain?" they asked.
"That's where we're bound for."
"To have a look at the children?"
"Yes, to see what they are up to."