136 BOTANICAL GAZETTE. 



the borders of Mexico, where it is said to have been collected many 

 years ago. It is similar to C. vestlta but smoother and more delicate, 

 intermediate between that and C. Alabamensis. Here we also find 

 the Eugenia monticola., a low shrub with handsome coriaceous leaves 

 having the strong aromatic flavor of Allspice, which is the fruit of the 

 Eugenia pinienta. Anotlier new find is a stout, entire leaved form of 

 Ijjomcea hederfrfolia, which Prof. Gray has calted var. integriuscula. 

 We also find growi.ig in abundance on this ridge, the Psychotria, Sa- 

 geretia and Forestiera before mentioned. The last two flower in the 

 fall and fruit in the spring. Here likewise are the Frangula, Clematis 

 Catesbyana, Urtica chamfedryoides, Parietaria debili-^, SteUaria prostrata^ 

 etc. The variety of surface and vegetation is truly wonderful. Step- 

 ping down from the ridge we are all at once surrounded by a strictly 

 littoral vegetation, such as Baccharis^ Borrichia, Statice and Sesuvium. 

 Following the base of the ridge we come to a small swamp filled with 

 sedges and Solidagos. Upon turning to the right we enter the very 

 ideal of a tropical forest, one of natures cathedrals, grand and awe- 

 inspiring, full of objects strange and beautiful from the "lordly king 

 of Palms to the lichen whicli staineth its stem." Huge trunks and 

 leaves and countless vines festooned from tree to tree circumscribe 

 the vision, while over our heads the gigantic leaves of the Tree Pal- 

 metto form a majestic canojjy. On the ponderous branches of Live 

 Oaks are luxuriant growths of ferns, and streaming down from branch 

 and branchlet, the Grey Moss hangs motionless, adding solemnity to 

 the scene. What is there in nature so exquisitely beautiful as the 

 long Grey Moss of these southern forests? In its ever undulating 

 lines of growth are embodied the ''lines of beauty and of grace." 

 Whether hanging motionless from lofty branches like stalactites in a 

 cave, or writhing in the wind like the Gorgons' tresses, it has a beauty 

 peculiarly its own, magical and weird. It seems out of place among 

 its surroundings and better fitted for the land of the fairies where 

 plants might be expected to have, like this, grey foliage and green 

 flowers, and to grow downward and feed on thin air. 



As we have advanced into the gloomy depths of the forest, the sun 

 has sunk low, and as it disappears below the horizon, the shades of 

 night gather in the dark recesses and seem to people them with un- 

 seen presences. Unperceived vines gi apple us as we huny along; 

 everything we touch seems to awaken the echoes. The great leaves 

 of the Palmetto that hang like curtains in our way, rustle as we press 

 them aside, while the dead and fallen ones crackle loudly beneath 

 our tread. Thoughts arise of bloody traditions connected with this 



