April, 1881.1 241 



TROPICAL NOTES. 

 BY W. B. PRYER. 



I have lately been reading, with much interest, several descriptions 

 of scenes, principally zoological, in the Ear East, but I must say that, 

 as a rule, I consider these descriptions overdrawn. There is, of 

 course, a broad distinction to be made between writers of the Jules 

 Yerne school and gentlemen who are really describing what they have 

 seen in the Tropics, but even these latter are nearly always too florid ; 

 again and again I have found people writing what they believe to be 

 true, from which home-stayers in England would suppose that the 

 scenes commonest in the Tropics are one gorgeous conglomeration of 

 richly hued birds, the most beautiful exotic flowers, and troops of mon- 

 keys, while snakes, squirrels, palm trees, and, more particularly, butterflies 

 — nearly every writer insists upon large quantities of gaily coloured 

 butterflies — are thrown in ad libitum ; "Wallace very much put an end 

 to the idea of the abundance of flowers in the tropical forest, and, of 

 late years, there has been a noticeable falling off in their size, pro- 

 fusion, and colouring ! ; but most of the other things I have mentioned 

 are still alluded to in undiminished numbers and gorgeousness. 



Now, at this moment, I have " The Tropical Eorest " before me ; 

 within one hundred yards of me, at this present moment of writing, 

 commences a mighty forest, which may be traversed for a hundred 

 miles without a vestige of human handiwork being met with, and what 

 is it like ? Simply, large quantities of straight tree-stems, running up 

 like ships'-masts into the air, and terminating in a small mushroom- 

 shaped head of leaves, and so thickly do the trees grow, that their 

 heads are so closely packed together, as to form a dense canopy over- 

 head, through which the sun can hardly find a chink to penetrate, 

 and, accordingly, it is quite gloomy, cool, and damp below ; as for 

 monkeys, squirrels, birds, butterflies, palm trees, flowers, &c, there is 

 simply not one visible. 



Notwithstanding this, how r ever, it does sometimes happen that 

 one sees a good many birds in one place, in another, perhaps, a flock 

 or two of monkeys, and, possibly, some other animal in another, a good 

 many butterflies, and so forth ; and it is but natural, perhaps, that 

 writing afterwards while the usual uneventful every-day appearance 

 of the Tropics is forgotten, these more beautiful and full-of-life scenes 

 alone dwell in the memory, and are described as the usual thing. 



Grifted with a good digestion and a stout pair of legs, there are, 

 I daresay, few, if any, people who have wandered over the extreme 



