Amazing trees yield coloring matter of yellow, red, and blue. Trees cure bites of snakes, the malignant _manzanillo_ infects any one who sleeps beneath it. Then there is the cow-tree of milky sap, the red-wooded blood tree, and those furnishing food for curious animals, which transform it into curious shapes. Beneath the iron-wood, whose sharp edges are hard as steel, crawls the sensitive plant. There are whole forests of _cinchona_, whose beautiful flowers are forgotten because of the value of the bark. The dead man’s tree grows here, whose stems are sucked by witch-doctors to produce a trance; also the wonderful tree of rain, which Boussingault referred to when he said: “By the light of the moon we could distinctly see drops of water dripping from the branches.” The drier the night the more water it condenses, letting it fall upon the ground beneath. Ponderous leafage overarches great trunks, columns of a giant’s castle, each with its peculiar color. While some are smooth, others are deeply fissured or armed with long spikes. Most of the tree-trunks are indistinguishable for the mass of vines “sculptured” upon them. They cleave to the smooth bark, darting out roots as they ascend. “The green eaves of foliage seem supported by pillars of leaves.” Tapering ribbons sway to and fro, tangling themselves in the long moss-beards. “Green, fleshy chains” festoon themselves upon the branches, and hang heavily on slender stems. They stretch taut from one tree to another, or rigid, fasten tree-tops to the ground. The whole jungle is knit together. If a supporting tree falls, the confused masses of _lianas_ adhering to it snatch at whatever is nearest for a fresh start. They twist about each other tighter and tighter, gaining always a firmer and firmer hold as they ascend. Far up above, they will weave back and forth a close fabric, spreading out wide roofs of flowers. Indistinguishable tree from creeper, parasite from supporter, all are clamoring for space and light and air. Those which have struggled through to the top reach toward the scalding sun or alternate cooling deluge, riotous, irrepressible in vigor, radiant with color, distilling intense perfume, drooping with the succulence of their own leaves and stems, breaking with the weight of their over-developed fruit. Vegetation invades everything. It even shoots out over the water, covering it with lovely forms. Hardly a growing thing can get its impulse directly from the soil. That was long ago preëmpted. There must be other things to grow upon or in. Wherever there is a suspicion of foothold, a new form of life springs up spontaneously, gleaning nourishment from whatever it touches, exuberantly prolific from the start, parasites one and all, living at the expense of some earlier comer.