IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST 229 



grapes which sometimes form bushropes, and also 

 our common northern woodbine, which climbs 

 by adventive roots. There are also several others. 



When these have reached the light and air of the 

 forest canopy they are no longer concerned about 

 their means of ascent. Their upper parts once 

 secure among the topmost branches, the tendrils, 

 no longer needed, decay and the unfastened stems 

 hang in all manner of picturesque and fantastic 

 attitudes. The young aspiring vines need less 

 light than most vegetation. 



The building of a ship, of a house, or of any other 

 monument of man is invariably accompanied by 

 incessant noise. In this busy workshop of the 

 forest amid the most intense creative activity 

 there is an oppressive silence and no visible mo- 

 tion. Nature's machinery operates so smoothly 

 the entire forest might as well be dead for all that 

 one may see or hear of the work going on. 



Unless especially gifted in a sense of direction 

 one is in danger of getting lost in these jungles for 

 it is very difficult to locate the sun, however 

 brightly it may be shining without. Notwith- 

 standing the great variety of vegetation, the 

 forest is after all very monotonous and, to an 



