It
blossoms inconspicuously, and its fruit is as hard, tough and dry as an
argument on torts. Ordinary mortals call it a vine. Botanists describe
it as a prickly climbing palm, and no jungle is complete without it.
There are several varieties of this interesting plant, all more or less
of a grasping, clinging character, and each of vital importance in the
republic of vegetation.
Sometimes when it is severed with a sharp knife there flows from the
cane a fluid bright and limpid as a judge's summing up; occasionally it
is all as dry as dust and as sneezy, and its prickly leaf sheathes the
abode of that vexing insect which causes the scrub itch.
This plant produces lengths of cane similar in every respect to the
schoolmaster's weapon--familiar but immortal--varying in diameter from a
quarter of an inch to an inch and a half, and in length, as some assert,
to no less than 500 and 600 feet. Certainly 300 feet is not uncommon,
and one can readily concede an additional 100 feet, knowing the
extravagance of the remarkable palm under ordinary circumstances. And
the cane weaves and entangles the jungle, binds and links mighty trees
together, and with the co-operation of other clinging, and creeping, and
trailing plants--some massive as ship's cables, and some thin and fine as
fishing-lines--forms compact masses of vegetation to penetrate which
tracks must be cut yard by yard.
Pages:
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339