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A NEW HTSTORY OF 



In a word, the vegetable productions of the 

 torrid zone, may truly be styled inexhaustible and 

 everlasting. No autumn to arrest their growing 

 vigor, — no winter to smite their beauties to the 

 ground, they perform the task assigned to them, 

 under the protecting influence of congenial spring 

 and summer. 



The year throughout, I could scarcely ever 

 detect a tree, denuded of its foliage by nature's 

 mandate. So imperceptible was the decay, and the 

 renewal of the leaf in general, that I never should 

 have observed it, had not my eye occasionally 

 wandered over its changing tints, from birth to 

 maturity. 



Although most of these tropical productions are 

 unpalatable to man, still they are both sweet and 

 nourishing to the birds and quadrupeds of the 

 woods. On one occasion, I found a tree covered 

 with ripe figs, on the bank of Camouni creek, a 

 tributary stream to the river Demerara. It was 

 literally crowded with birds and monkeys. These 

 last, scampered away along the trees, on my near 

 approach, but, most of the birds, saving the 

 toucans, remained on the boughs to finish their 

 repast. If I had fired amongst them, some dozens 

 must have fallen ; so, to save a cruel and a useless 

 slaughter, I contented myself with remaining a 



