direction. Up these the trees often meet overhead. They are the 

 abode of innumerable birds, such as the White Ibis, the Wood 

 Ibis, the fish hawks, and the Osprey, which need both water and 

 trees. A dormitory of white ibis on one of these creeks is an 

 unforgettable sight if the evening is clear and the cypress is in 

 its first spring flush of delicate chartreuse green. The place is 

 alive with all manner of mammals, from muskrat and otter to 

 still a few puma, bear, and many deer. Although the razorback 

 hog has got loose here, it does not seem to do much harm to the 

 natural economy and even these feral pigs have gone nicely 

 "back to bush." It is also possible that the little weasel-shaped cat 

 called the Jaguarundi is also indigenous here. It is the home of 

 the giant River Frog (Rana heckscheri). a rather lovable great 

 brute that, unlike its brother the Bullfrog, apparently cannot 

 understand artificial lights and so just sits on the road until you 

 pick it up. 



Of some significance in the area are two aquatic mollusks: a 

 river "mussel" that provides much of the food for younger alli- 

 gators and a large water "snail" found in the swamps and boils 

 that sticks neat packets of globular, white, hard, but brittle- 

 shelled eggs to twigs and tree boles just about high-water mark. 

 Now this is a very sore subject, since the ability of animals to 

 prejudge, seemingly by months, the top level of floods for the 

 coming year is and always has been held seriously in question, 

 though it has been claimed for all sorts of animals from all over 

 the world. Here, however, you can see where the highest water 

 reaches by a very clear wash mark on all the tree boles; and, 

 sure enough, the snail eggs are all just about three inches above 

 that mark whereas there are none below — and this we know 

 because when they lay their eggs these animals cement them 

 firmly to their anchor with a pure white platform of calcium 

 carbonate or "eggshell." There are never any such of the current 

 year below the flood line, though all are laid before the flood 

 season. 



The featureless lowland plains of the east coast extend west all 

 the way to the Mississippi, covered with interminable pine flat- 



Another very common maini>ia! of the Southern Pine Belt is 

 the Raccoon, shown here carrying its young (above) and 

 nursing (facing page). It has managed to adjust to modern 

 man and has even invaded cities. 



woods on the coast side and with low, rolling hills of reddish 

 earth nearer the piedmont. But at the Apalachicola River, which 

 runs south to Cape San Bias, something really impressive hap- 

 pens; quite what, nobody has so far been able to say, and none 

 of the risings or sinkings of the land about these parts in any 

 way explains the phenomenon. If you drive across this "break" 

 and have been forewarned, you will notice quite a change in 

 scenery from one side of this river to the other: but if you are 

 not watching, nothing much will seem to occur. This is one of 

 those strange barriers that nature erects, apparently haphazardly, 

 which take considerable study, sometimes of very small details, 

 even to recognize. 



What happens here is that not a few animals and particularly 

 aquatic ones — for instance, the population of one species of 

 amphibians known as the Siren — suddenly stops on one bank of 

 the river, while other related but quite different species start 

 immediately on the opposite hank, only a few hundred yards 

 away. One would think that, whereas terrestrial animals might 

 sometimes not be able to overcome even a small water barrier, 

 flying animals like bats and birds and insects should be able to 

 do so, and that there would be no difference between the water- 

 inhabiting creatures of the two sides of such a divide. Yet, time 

 and again, all over the world, most especially in the tropics, a 

 modest river will form a complete barrier to both flying and 

 swimming creatures — though sometimes not to land-walking 

 ones — whereas a fairly wide gulf or even a sea will not do so. 

 This is not only odd but highly significant, since it demonstrates 

 that our ideas of why things are as they are, and the criteria by 

 which we prognosticate what they should be, are as yet by no 

 means fully established. Nature's particular forte is the exact 

 placement of her oikoi, or houses, for her children. If one kind 

 of salamander is adapted to one kind of vegetational zone, it 

 will thrive therein; but if it wanders out of it, it will be 

 eliminated. This goes for species as well as lone individuals. 

 For some reason still unclear to us, nature ordained that there 

 should be a faunal break from north to south about the Apa- 

 lachicola River; and there it is — a fine lesson in the principles 

 of ecology. 



Just to the west of the Apalachicola also there is the first of 

 many great swamps, now constituted a national forest and 

 bearing the name of that river. This is a very interesting place, 

 since it first introduces us to a number of new phenomena. All 

 the way from the northeast boundary of the province we have 

 been seeing the famous, gray, waving, Spanish Moss, draped 

 from trees of all kinds as well as from many human devices 

 such as telephone lines and even laundry cords. It becomes quite 

 excessive farther on in the delta and bayous, as we shall see, but 

 it is not till we get here that its real significance becomes ap- 

 parent. This place is low-lying and grown with a massive stand 

 of cypress, some oaks, and various pines which seem quite happy 

 growing in standing water. 



TREES WITH KNEES 



This is really a vast "river bottom," being sandwiched between 

 mile after mile of pine-covered flatlands to west, north, and east. 

 Its basis is a filigree of muddy and placid small waterways lined 

 by modest stands of Swamp Cypress (Taxodium distichumj, 

 which is a rather nondescript vegetable thing when without its 

 feathery, delicate leaves. It specializes in growing in water. 



Normally this tree has a tall, straight trunk that may reach 

 as high as 150 feet, a few rather straight side branches, and a 

 bulbous base where it enters the water. It also has the curious 



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