56 TROPIC DAYS | 



"she" (or "shea" oaks, as the late F. Manson Bailey 

 preferred) — mimics the sound of the wind among the 

 branches, which the slightest zephyr stirs and the 

 storm lashes into sea-like roar. The bright green of 

 the grasses sets off the dull green and bronze of the 

 steadfast harps of the beach. At certain seasons and 

 in some lights, when the sun is in the west, the minute 

 scales at the joints of the slender, pendulous branchlets 

 shine like old gold, producing a theatrical effect which, 

 if not experienced before, startles and almost persuades 

 to the belief that the complaining trees nave been 

 decorated by one who "has sought out many inven- 

 tions." But the slant of the sun alters, the light fades, 

 leaving them sombre in hue and whispering more and 

 more discreetly as the night calm settles over the scene. 

 Such communicable trees should stand together, com- 

 menting on passing events, booming in unison with 

 the cyclone, and mimicking the tenderest tones of the 

 idlest wind. During a storm, when the big waves 

 crash on the beach and the Casuarinas are tormented, 

 the tumult is bewildering; but however loud their 

 plaint, very few suffer, though growing in loose sand; 

 for the roots are widespread and, like the trunk and 

 main branches, tough, while the branchlets stream 

 before the wind. 



Close behind the screen of Casuarinas is a magnificent 

 specimen of a wide-spreading shrub, in form a squat 

 dome, which commemorates the name of a French 

 naturalist — Tournefortia argoiia. The leaves, crowded 

 at the ends of thick branchlets, are covered with soft, 

 silky hairs of a silvery cast, which reflect the sun's 

 rays. It would be gross exaggeration to say that the 

 finely shaped shrub shines like silver, for the general 

 hue of the foliage is sage green, but that it has a silvery 

 cast, which in certain lights contrasts with the dull 



