Cases where Fungi render very valuable services to larger plants are exemplified by the Monotropa or Indian Pipe. This pallid scavenger grows on the decaying vegetable matter of the woods. It toils not, neither does it make plant starch, but it is able to produce pretty, ghostly flowers and white scale-like leaves. On its roots thrive species of Fungi which perform the part of root hairs and in return receive nourishment from their host. Certain authorities claim that the Fungi get the better of the bargain, as the Monotropa has been known to maintain its health without them in laboratories. But the fact is the relation does exist with undisputed benefit to both parties.
Beech Drops germinate in contact with roots of the Beech tree, attach themselves there and raise yellow, seared stems covered with scales instead of leaves but bearing perfect flowers. The Broom-Rapes get their nourishment from the roots of Tobacco and Hemp in the same way.
Prominent among the larger parasitic plants is the Dodder or Devil’s Thread. This vine derives all its sustenance from other plants and, as far as can be determined, gives no material return. From this standpoint, the Dodder is a robber pure and simple, a degenerate outcast from the community of decent plants. From the viewpoint of this chapter, it is possible to believe that the host of the Dodder derives some spiritual or hidden material benefit from the union which makes it distinctly worth while. If such were not the case, it would seem that, through ages of evolutionary development, such plants as Flax would have devised means to escape the Dodder’s clutches.
The Dodder inhabits low ground and pokes an inquiring head above the surface each spring much like any self-sustaining plant. However, it is not long before it attaches itself to some lusty neighbour by root-like suckers, which pierce the stem and extract the nourishing juices. If the supply seems adequate, the Dodder winds its yellow, yarn-like tendrils about the host and allows the roots which connect it to the earth to wither. Its absorbing tubercles look like caterpillar feet; their cells form a perfect graft with the host and gradually disperse through its body. If other plants are near enough, the Devil’s Thread will reach out and tap their food supplies also. A single Dodder has been known to draw nourishment from five or six other plants of different families at the same time, thus indicating that it must have digestive machinery enough to appropriate these varying saps to its own uses. The Dodder has no chlorophyll and therefore no leaves but bears pretty little bell-like flowers which later produce seed.
In the tropical jungles are many parasites of brilliant aspect, which, having no leaves or root hairs, germinate directly on supporting plants and apply suckers to the tissues of their hosts. When seen from the ground, their short stems make them seem all flower, and often very handsome ones. The Rafflesia Arnoldi of Sumatra is a notable example.
Man cannot help condemning such plant practices. Yet all Nature is a struggle for existence. Does it not require some courage and hardihood to come out and do in a bold and open way what the rest of the universe is doing by indirect or underhand methods?
The beautiful Orchids belong to a botanic group of Epiphytes which may be classified as guests or lodgers. Being green, they are able to gather their own living from dust, rain and carbon dioxide in the air. All they ask from their tree-hosts is a branch on which to perch. There are probably few trees which are not delighted to have such delicate, fairy-like creatures add to their own beauty and charm. They wear them much as a woman wears a rose in her hair.
In America there are well-mannered parasites such as the decorative Spanish Moss so common throughout the South. This plant is normal in all respects; except that, perched on a kindly tree, it draws all its nourishment from the air instead of through soil-piercing roots.
The Mistletoe is a perfect example of a mutualist. Early in its aerial life, it sends a root through the bark of its tree companion and during the spring and summer, absorbs much food. When winter days come, and the tree has lost its leaves, the grateful messmate reverses the process and sends into the heart of its friend the larger part of the nourishment which it has been able to store up during the prosperous weeks of summer. The seeds of the Mistletoe are interesting because they are covered with a sticky fluid which enables them to travel from tree to tree on the feet of birds.
That some plants are parasites from necessity or laziness rather than choice is indicated by a Brazilian variety of the Cuckoo-Pint which sits far up on some tree branch and, like an immense spider, sends down to the earth long delicate tubes through which it sometimes sucks food and water.