FOREST MAGIC 



with a clean bole running straight up clear of branches 

 a hundred feet from the ground. Anyone who stops to 

 contemplate these victorious tree warriors who have sur- 

 vived the age-long struggle for supremacy, triumphantly 

 forcing their way through the densely closed canopy, 

 must marvel at Nature's devices. In its early youth this 

 same monarch has combated the raids of rodents, the rav- 

 ages of fungoid and insect pests, destruction by game, 

 and the greatest danger of all, entanglement by woody 

 lianas. These enemies overcome, new dangers threaten the 

 growing tree as it pierces the canopy of the forest. When 

 it mounts supreme in its victory over the lesser growths, 

 it must withstand the force of the sudden pressure of tor- 

 nadoes, while far below its stately bole is ever imperilled 

 by the menace of fire from the encroachments of man. 



Below the giant trees, tier by tier, are those of lesser 

 height, and last of all, a mass of shrubs interspersed with 

 herbs great and small, all inextricably bound together by 

 the tangled woody lianes and vines. 



When the sun is at its height, there is still gloom in the 

 Forest, for its rays scarcely pierce the thickly matted 

 leaves. And when the sun is obscured by the rains there is 

 a sombre sameness that deepens the sense of mystery that 

 ever pervades the Tropic Bush. There is a miasma rising 

 from the soil, which can be seen and felt. The moisture 

 and heat which promotes such rampant growth is often 

 death to man. 



When I was on a Forest Survey cutting a line through 

 what appeared to be untouched virgin forest, yet without 



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