1 THE EQUATORIAL FORESTS 13 
so that it was impossible from below to say what 
the leaves were like. A young Indian offered to 
procure them for me, and I then witnessed for the 
first time the Indian mode of climbing any tree not 
of inordinate thickness. A handkerchief is tied by 
the two opposite corners, or a bit of rope about 
2 feet long by the two ends, or, better still, 
because everywhere obtainable in the forest, a ring 
of sipo is made of the same size. The climber, 
standing at the foot of the tree, puts the toes of 
each foot into the ring and stretches it to its full 
extent ; then, embracing the tree with his arms — 
or grasping it with his hands if it be very slender 
— he draws up his legs as far as he can, and hold- 
ing the ring tight to the tree with his feet, so as to 
form a sort of step, he straightens himself out and 
repeats the process ; so that by a series of snail- 
like movements (I mean as to the attitudes, not the 
pace), he soon reaches the top of the tree. Many 
Indians, without any apparatus at all, will walk up 
a slender smooth tree, monkey fashion, especially if 
it lean over a little, and in this way I have seen the 
Tapuyas climb Coco and Assai palms for the sake of 
their fruit. . . . 
The Indian brought down branches of the 
Caraipe, but they unfortunately possessed only 
leaves, no flowers or fruit. Defective as they 
were, my dried specimens were placed in the hands 
of Mr. Bentham, and his vast knowledge of what 
may be called comparative vegetable anatomy 
enabled him to assign them, nearly with certainty, 
to the order Chrysobalaneae, and even to indicate 
the genus (Licania) to which they probably be- 
longed. I afterwards fell in with several sorts of 
