to check its
growth, but presently small rootlets, not thicker than a pack-thread,
are seen shooting downwards from the wounded end; these swing in the
wind till, reaching the ground, they attach themselves in the soil, and
form new stems, which in turn, when sufficiently grown, are cut away and
replaced by a subsequent growth. Such is its tenacity of life, that when
the Singhalese wish to grow the _rasa-kindu_, they twist several yards
of the stem into a coil of six or eight inches in diameter, and simply
hang it on the branch of a tree, where it speedily puts forth its large
heart-shaped leaves, and sends down its rootlets to the earth.
The ground too has its creepers, and some of them very curious. The most
remarkable are the ratans, belonging to the Calamus genus of palms. Of
these I have seen a specimen 250 feet long and an inch in diameter,
without a single irregularity, and no appearance of foliage other than
the bunch of feathery leaves at the extremity.
The strength of these slender plants is so extreme, that the natives
employ them with striking success in the formation of bridges across the
water-courses and ravines. One which crossed the falls of the
Mahawelliganga, in the Kotmahe range of hills, was constructed with the
scientific precision of an engineer's work. It was entirely composed of
the plant, called by the natives the "Waywel," its extremities fastened
to living trees, on the opposite sides of the ravine through which a
furious and otherwise impassable mountain torrent thundered and fell
from rock to rock with a descent of nearly 100 feet. The flooring of
this aerial bridge consisted of short splints of wood, laid
transversely, and bound in their places by thin strips of the waywel
itself. The whole structure vibrated and swayed with fearful ease, but
the coolies traversed it though heavily laden; and the European, between
whose estate and the high road it lay, rode over it daily without
dismounting.
Another class of trees which excites the astonishment of an European,
are those whose stems are protected, as high as cattle can reach, by
thorns, which in the jungle attain a growth and size quite surprising.
One species of palm[1], the _Caryota horrida,_ often rises to a height
of fifty feet, and has a coating of thorns for about six or eight feet
from the ground, each about an inch in length, and so densely covering
the stem that the bark is barely visible.
[Footnote 1: This palm I have cal
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