ALONG THE STREAM 253 



raises itself high on stilted roots in order that it 

 may live above the water and breathe; an orchid 

 perfects a complicated device to compel honey- 

 loving insects to cross-fertilize its pollen. Animals 

 resort to all manner of tricks to conceal themselves 

 from their enemies. All these work not merely for 

 themselves but for the benefit of the race to which 

 they belong. If the work of man is the result of 

 thought that of animals and plants must be so 

 in some lesser degree. If man developed from a 

 lower animal, the superior from the inferior, where 

 may we draw the line between reason and instinct? 

 Gradually as we ascend the stream it finally 

 loses its character and becomes a mere, ill-defined, 

 shallow drain for the swamp from which it flows. 

 The Everglades lie just before us stretching away 

 in monotonous grandeur; saw grass and other low 

 vegetation cover the soft mud; the channel is 

 finally lost in a network of slight depressions 

 and the stream becomes merged into the mighty 

 prairie. 



