318 Transactions. — Botany. 



is almost sure to arise from some one observant person in the 

 carriage, " Why is it so? Why are these two plants alone so 

 salamander-like as to live through the terrible ordeal of raging 

 fire? " And mark, this inquiry arises from only one, who may 

 be laughed at for it by the company — the many, 



With the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind. 



For to the many there is nothing to be seen, nothing to be 

 noticed, nothing worthy of observation in the whole scenery 

 through which we are passing on both sides, whether botani- 

 cal in charming variety and profusion, or geological as revealed 

 by the varied horizontal strata in the sides of the deep cuttings 

 through which we frequently thread our way. Such unobser- 

 vant travellers and tourists too often remind one of Words- 

 worth's " Peter Bell " : — 



A primrose by a river's brim 

 A yellow primrose was to him, 

 And it was nothing more. 



Of course, the answer to that question is an easy one, though 

 the cause may not be known to all : these two plants belong 

 to the endogenous class, whose living woody system is internal 

 and central, and not on the outside, under the external bark, 

 like those others of the exogenous class around, that have at 

 the same time been burnt and so perished. Large tree-ferns 

 20ft. to 25ft. high are frequently to be seen on the edge of or 

 a little way within a burnt forest — that is, their blackened 

 burnt stems standing like charred and sooty pillars, while 

 from their tops large crowns of young bright-green fronds are 

 springing and spreading, and so presenting a curious and 

 strange contrast. At the same time, not a single tree or shrub 

 of that forest has escaped the ravages of the fire ; all besides is 

 dreary desolation, vegetable death. 



There is yet another plant that is very common in the 

 woods near the railway-lines which, from the great singularity 

 of its appearance, deserves notice. It grows only on the 

 upper large branches of trees, where it forms round ragged 

 bunches of rather long grass or leek-like leaves, and sometimes 

 several of such bunches are together, forming quite a big 

 mass. It shows itself more conspicuously and strangely when 

 growing on dead burnt and still standing trees, which is very 

 frequently the case, and has often astonished me from its 

 tenacity of life. How those small and feeble and exposed 

 plants escaped the fiery doom which destroyed the big and 

 stout trees root and branch on which they are still living and 

 flourishing is a mystery to me. Further, the bark of many of 

 those burnt trees has peeled off, leaving only their pale, 

 bleached, denuded limbs, on which those plants still adhere 



