%7- DEATH IN THE FOREST. 529 



from its weak, leafless, and almost colourless stem. One species is 

 nothing but a stalk supporting a single flower, like a miniature yellow 

 crocus, while others, with branching stems and several flowers, 

 are even more insignificant. 



When a clearing is made, however, the result is almost marvel- 

 lous. In a month or two it is green with herbage, and if left alone 

 will soon become as densely packed as the roof of the forest. Various 

 kinds of weeds, of species unknown in the neighbourhood before, 

 now dispute with each other possession of the vacant space. It is 

 almost impossible to conceive how the seeds have been brought, as it 

 may be scores of miles to the next clearing where the vegetation is 

 identical. Some, no doubt, have been left by floods, others dropped 

 by birds, or carried by the wind. One of the first to appear is the 

 elegant silver fern (Gymnogranniie calomelanos) which particularly affects 

 the sides of ditches and every spot where the soil has been turned 

 up. After the ferns come grasses and sedges, then phytolaccas, 

 prickly solanums, and a host of interlacing scrambling vines, until 

 an impenetrable jungle extends over the whole clearing. The 

 struggle that goes on here is intense, and the weakest are soon 

 smothered. The first to give up are the ferns, then follow the 

 grasses, while the prickly solanums dispute every inch with the 

 smothering multitude, scratching and tearing the leaves and stems 

 of the scramblers as if determined not to give way. But all their 

 efforts are useless ; the smotherer throws its arching stems over them 

 and on these others lay hold, until a dense mass of foliage shuts out 

 the light from everything below. 



Meanwhile seeds of forest trees have found the opening. With- 

 out the accident of a clearing they would have gone the way of the 

 myriads that die for want of such an opportunity. But they will 

 have a hard struggle, for already the smotherers are doing their best 

 to prevent anything from growing beneath them. However, one 

 after another they pierce through the tangle, taking advantage of 

 every little crevice, and often growing through those leaves they 

 cannot push aside. Once out in the light they begin to spread and 

 overshadow the choking creepers, which lose their leaves and become 

 less hampering. Here and there one tries to lay hold of a young tree 

 and rise with it, but rarely does it succeed, as there are no branches 

 and the leaves are thrown off one after another as the slender trunk 

 rises upwards. Soon the clearing looks like a young plantation so 

 densely packed as to be almost impassable. The mass of creepers 

 is now nothing but a network of dry stems, which are gradually 

 settling down into the soil. 



The young trees now form a crowd so dense that no one has 

 room to spread. The space required by a single tree is occupied by 

 a dozen or more, and something must be done. Then comes the 

 final effort. The slightest advantage of one over another, in strength, 

 height, or expanse of foliage, determines the result, which means 



