GROWTH
Strange as it may seem, these fierce Cholla, called also Cane Cacti, belong to the same genus, Opuntia, with the Prickly Pears. These two groups form the two sections of the genus Opuntia, the Cylindropuntia representing the Cholla, the Platopuntia the Prickly Pears. One sees at a glance that the latter name applies to our platelike “flapjacks” of the desert, while the former name Cylindropuntia applies to the Cholla section because the joints are cylindrical and not flattened as in their cousin Platopuntia. “Opuntia” is derived from the Greek town of Opus, where some plant like the cactus is said to have existed; “cholla” (pronounced chōlya, commonly choya) is of Spanish derivation and means literally “head.” The name was given because a large number of these fierce species form their branches into broad rounded heads. The designation “Cane Cacti” is also applied to the Cholla in allusion to their stems, from which cactus canes are manufactured.
The two cousins in the same genus, so to speak, will be found upon examination to differ greatly in several respects. While the Prickly Pear is built up of thick or flattened platelike joints which sometimes look like pancakes, with the spicules and spikes growing from little clusters over the surface (which by the way are most treacherous), the structure of the Cholla is found to be cylindrical, with very prominent tubercles. Since the Cholla is a very fascinating, mysterious, and unique member of the great cactus clan it will be well to be a little graphic in his description, for he is all that we may say about him, and more. He has as a rule a short main stem or trunk, from which branch many grotesque, weird-looking arms and legs that cause the whole plant to resemble a dwarf tree though it is typically shrubby in habit. A few of these fantastic forms have the joints club-shaped, sometimes quite slender, and these types are intermediate between the Prickly Pears and the Cholla, growing mostly as prostrate shrubs rather than as dwarfed trees. Prickly Pears and Cane Cacti alike have only one kind of spines in the areolas, though these are usually of several lengths, and both bear spicules along with their thorns. In the Cholla the tubercles are arranged spirally on the cylindrical joints, each bearing an areola which in turn has the spines and spicules and also the small, greatly reduced fleshy leaves half an inch long or longer; these always wither and fall off in a few days, showing no doubt that they are but remnants from an earlier age, when possibly the prehistoric cactus bore much larger leaves. Cholla thorns have very thin and transparent sheaths, which persist unless destroyed or rubbed off, thus differing from Prickly Pear thorns. Cholla spines are not messengers of harmony, nor do they welcome the tenderfoot tourist in his journey across the desert, for sheathed Cholla thorns constitute the most treacherous and dangerous of the cactus spines, a formidable fortress of strong, sharp, dangerously recurved spikes; and woe to the careless stranger who is inadvertently stabbed by one of these terrible Cholla swords!
We have noted that the Prickly Pear blooms open in the early morning, closing in late afternoon with one or two exceptions. Among the very unusual Cane Cacti the opening of the flowers seems to be on a sort of schedule, for we observe that they unfold at different times, as at eight o’clock in the morning, at nine, at ten, at one o’clock, at three, and at four, then all close in the evening usually never to open again. So if you are to see this phenomenon you will have to be on time, for Cholla never wait. The flowers open wide very quickly, in the course of fifteen or twenty minutes, especially on bright sunshiny days. An occasional Cholla may bloom for the second day, but this is a very uncommon occurrence.
In speaking of the fruit of Cane Cacti we must tell you that they, too, are very irregular and mysterious and fascinating in their manner of growth; for the Cholla fruit are different, and if you will but follow the fruit cycle you will see that it is grotesque, irregular, and a phenomenon in itself. Can you imagine fruit remaining on a tree for one year or for several years, and for that matter as long as ten years at a time, all hard, green, or ripe or juicy? This is what happens on the Cholla dwarf trees. Most of the fruit stay on the plants for a year or longer without spoiling or softening, and will continue to remain for several seasons, ripe and juicy and unchanged for long periods of time. The chain-store idea did not originate in modern times by any means, for ages ago Nature introduced this plan into her scheme of things by implanting a very interesting peculiarity in some varieties of the Cane Cacti, wherein new fruit and flowers grow out from the ends of old ones or from the tips of old fruit, and in such manner start a chain of some ten or twelve fruit, all fresh, hard, green, or ripe, the first nine or ten years older than the last, while the oldest will become larger, firmer, and perhaps more woody but scarcely less succulent than the later fruit.
Still another interesting phenomenon in the growth cycle of the Cholla is the manner in which he grows on and on in the process of evolution. In some varieties the fruit, falling to the ground, develop roots and grow into new plants immediately, while the seeds within remain unchanged and do not germinate, though viable and capable of growth at some later time. When the Cholla grows to maturity, he sometimes reaches the height of fifteen or twenty feet, with a large defiant trunk on which appear the fantastic arms full of spicules and thorns that defy the intrusion of man, beast, or bird. He is one of the first of the desert greeters to meet the traveler coming to his habitat to get acquainted, and if one arrives in fruit and flower time he will dress up in his best array of color and will be found most interesting and fascinating—if, of course, you keep your distance; for Cholla will not tolerate any intimacy. When he is maturing and getting along in years and the wind is gently blowing, he will nod with little jumps of the lateral branches as if saying “Buenas noches” or “Adiós, señor,” or more characteristically “Fuera!” Begone! This seems to be his usual greeting, and, the natives claim, has given him his unofficial title of the “Jumping Cholla.”