JuLT 1891.] BOTANICAL SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH, 173 



of tropical scenery. There were palms, no doubt, of several 

 kinds shooting up above the other trees which told one 

 in unmistakable language he was far from home, but they 

 did not grow in masses or continuously, and though they 

 were far from rare, being indeed plentiful, yet they bore but 

 a small proportion to the great mass of other trees, which 

 showed a strong family resemblance to the ashes and elms at 

 home. The bulk of the forest was composed of those 

 familiar-looking trees, and until one had time to take in the 

 details of the picture, one could almost fancy oneself being 

 rowed along some lovely, still, wooded English river. But 

 when notice begins to be directed towards particular points 

 in the vegetation, one no longer thinks of home. Let us 

 begin with the surface of the water and its margin. All 

 along the banks on both sides, standing in the shallow water, 

 runs for miles a fringe, 6 or 12 feet in breadth, of strange- 

 looking plants, with straight, shrubby stems from 4 to 

 8 feet high, leaves like our familiar greenhouse Calla, and 

 somewhat dingy, light yellow arum flowers. They belong to 

 two species of the genus Montrichardia ; one, M. arhorescens, 

 Schott, with smooth stem, and the other, M. aculeata, Krueger, 

 with stem densely covered with prickles — plants inseparable 

 from the idea of river-side vegetation there. Outside of 

 these and floating in the water here and there in large 

 ])atches is one of the most beautiful of all small water plants, 

 Eichhm^nia natans, covered with lilac flowers so as to form a 

 mass of colour — a plant which might with great advantage 

 be introduced into our hothouse tanks at home. Floating 

 also up and down in the gentle current caused by the rise 

 and fall of the tide, may be seen many plants of Eichhomia 

 speciosa, which does not seem to flower in the moving water 

 as it does in the still water trenches of the sugar plantations. 

 Looking still more closely near the edge, a small dark greyish- 

 green plant catches the eye, resting in quantities on the 

 surface of the water, and belonging to a family of cryptogams 

 unrepresented at home ; it is Salvinia auriculata. 



Eising now from the water to the wooded banks above, 

 the gaze of the stranger is arrested most of all by the palms, 

 a family of plants copiously represented in Guiana — no 

 fewer than 21 genera and about 70 species occurring there. 

 They are everywhere a prime feature in the landscape, and 



