on the contrary, the typical tropical forest in full development. The
watershed, our skyline, was an almost absolute dividing-mark. At any
rate, there the pines stopped short.

At the divide we crossed from Pangasinán into Nueva Vizcaya. And with
the crossing began the forest just mentioned, and a long descent for
us. Our immediate destination was Amugan, our first rest halt. It
is of absolutely no use to try to describe this part of the trip. If
the confusion of trees, vines, orchids, tree ferns, foliage plants,
creepers, was bewildering, so was the impression produced. But we saw
many examples of the most beautiful begonia in existence, in full
blossom, gorgeous spheres of dark scarlet hanging above and around
us. According to Mr. Worcester, all attempts to transplant it have
failed. Its blossoms would be sometimes twenty and thirty feet in
the air. Nothing could exceed the glory of these masses of flowers,
sometimes a foot and more in diameter, as projected by the rays of
the early morning sun against the dark green background, the whole
glistening and dripping in the rain-like dew. Tree ferns abounded;
we passed one that must have been over sixty feet high. At one halt
the ground about was aflame with yellow orchids, growing out of the
ground. And there was one plant that I recognized myself, unaided,
the wild tomato, a little thing of eight or nine inches, but holding
up its head with all the rest of them. As always, on this trip,
however, it was the splendor of the country that held the attention,
the wild incoherent mountain masses thrown together apparently without
order or system, buttressed peaks, mighty flanks riven to the core
by deep valleys, radiating spurs, re-entrant gorges, the limit of
vision filled by crenellated ranges in all the serenity of their
distant majesty. And then, as our trail wound in and out, different
aspects of the same elements would present themselves, until really