the sun's rays. In parts of the forest still more dense than this, it
assumes the form of a climber only, and at once avails itself of the
assistance of a tall neighbor by winding vigorously round it, without
attempting to form a lower head. It does not succeed so well as
parasites proper, but where forced to contend for space it may be
mistaken for one which is invariably a climber. The paths here were very
narrow and very much encumbered with gigantic creepers, often as thick
as a man's leg. There must be some reason why they prefer, in some
districts, to go up trees in the common form of the thread of a screw
rather than in any other. On the one bank of the Chihune they appeared
to a person standing opposite them to wind up from left to right, on
the other bank from right to left. I imagined this was owing to the sun
being at one season of the year on their north and at another on their
south. But on the Leeambye I observed creepers winding up on opposite
sides of the same reed, and making a figure like the lacings of a
sandal.

In passing through these narrow paths I had an opportunity of observing
the peculiarities of my ox "Sinbad". He had a softer back than the
others, but a much more intractable temper. His horns were bent downward
and hung loosely, so he could do no harm with them; but as we wended our
way slowly along the narrow path, he would suddenly dart aside. A string
tied to a stick put through the cartilage of the nose serves instead of
a bridle: if you jerk this back, it makes him run faster on; if you
pull it to one side, he allows the nose and head to go, but keeps the
opposite eye directed to the forbidden spot, and goes in spite of you.
The only way he can be brought to a stand is by a stroke with a wand
across the nose. When Sinbad ran in below a climber stretched over the
path so low that I could not stoop under it, I was dragged off and came
down on the crown of my head; and he never allowed an opportunity of the
kind to pass without trying to inflict a kick, as if I neither had nor
deserved his love.

A remarkable peculiarity in the forests of this country is the absence
of thorns: there are but two exceptions; one a tree bearing a species of
'nux vomica', and a small shrub very like the plant of the sarsaparilla,
bearing, in addition to its hooked thorns, bunches of yellow berries.
The thornlessness of the vegetation is especially noticeable to those
who have been in the south, where there is