foliage against the clear blue sky. Sometimes the leaves were
palmate, or of the shape of large outstretched hands; at others,
finely cut or feathery, like the leaves of Mimosae. Below, the
tree trunks were everywhere linked together by sipos; the woody,
flexible stems of climbing and creeping trees, whose foliage is
far away above, mingled with that of the taller independent
trees. Some were twisted in strands like cables, others had thick
stems contorted in every variety of shape, entwining snake-like
round the tree trunks, or forming gigantic loops and coils among
the larger branches; others, again, were of zigzag shape, or
indented like the steps of a staircase, sweeping from the ground
to a giddy height.

It interested me much afterwards to find that these climbing
trees do not form any particular family. There is no distinct
group of plants whose special habit is to climb, but species of
many and the most diverse families, the bulk of whose members are
not climbers, seem to have been driven by circumstances to adopt
this habit. There is even a climbing genus of palms (Desmoncus),
the species of which are called, in the Tupi language, Jacitara.
These have slender, thickly-spined, and flexuous stems, which
twine about the taller trees from one to the other, and grow to
an incredible length. The leaves, which have the ordinary pinnate
shape characteristic of the family, are emitted from the stems at
long intervals, instead of being collected into a dense crown,
and have at their tips a number of long recurved spines. These
structures are excellent contrivances to enable the trees to
secure themselves by in climbing, but they are a great nuisance
to the traveller, for they sometimes hang over the pathway and
catch the hat or clothes, dragging off the one or tearing the