Guatemala

by William Tufts Brigham

Tropical vegetation cannot well be described; but the fact that even when seen it is hard to understand, need not prevent an attempt to sketch the general features. The real trouble that meets the novice on the threshold of the tropics is the utter inadequacy of the English language to express the variety and luxuriance he sees in the vegetable world. Even in color his vocabulary fails him, and he must include in the name “green” so many distinct tints that at last he relinquishes the difficult task and falls back upon the commonplace epithets, or leaves his tale untold. In the abundance, in the confusion, of plant-life the observer sees that as he goes from shore to mountain the trees and plants are not the same, and he will readily divide the vegetation into four tolerably distinct regions; these are the Shore, the River-bottoms, the Upland, and the Arid plain.

On all the low Cayos that are almost awash with every wave, and on the low margin of the mainland, extending up the wide rivers for miles, are the mangroves (Rhizophora mangle), giving the landscape a dull look not at all attractive. They make indeed a hedge of interlaced branches and tangled roots inhospitably forbidding landing on the shores. In their branches are orchids, bromeliads, and other showy plants, while above all this comparatively low bush rises the graceful coco or the confra (Manicaria Plukenetii). The presence of mangroves is usually considered an indication of the haunt of malaria, but on insufficient grounds; for when these trees are cleared away, the shore is admirably suited for coconuts, which with equal unreason are popularly regarded as token of a salubrious climate.

IN THE CHOCON FOREST.

As we follow up the rivers from the shore, we see the mangroves breaking their dense wall, while reeds and bambus fill the gaps; until at last mangroves have disappeared, as the rich valleys are reached. And now no one, or two, or six species can claim supremacy. Two trees are, however, prominent, where man has not interfered,—the cohune and the mahogany; both trees of attractive form and size, and both by their presence indicating the richest soil. The unspoiled forest of the river region presents a wonderful variety above the ground; but among its roots the exceptionally rich soil is almost bare, dwarf palms, wild bananas, gingers, and ferns scantily covering its surface. From the trees hang long vines (vejucos), some of them of value for cordage, others, as the paullinia (P. sorbilis) and zarza (Smilax sp.), possessed of medicinal properties, while others are full of grateful sap. Endless variety reigns, and on every side the puzzled observer sees different trees. Often the stems are so covered with orchids, aroids, and other parasitic and climbing plants that they can hardly be recognized, and their leaves and flowers are but a part of the fresh canopy some sixty feet or more above the ground. From a mountain ridge this forest looks like a level plain, even as the top of a well-trimmed hedge; its surface is here and there broken by the giant mahogany, or seamed by the river and its affluents. Rosewood, cedar, palo de mulatto, cacao, figs,[48] are all here, and the palms, from the noble cohune to the insignificant chamaedoras, are plentifully scattered among the other trees. During the season of flowers the brilliant yellow of the wild tamarind (Schizolobium), the equally bright magenta of the Palo de Cortez, and the white of the plumosa, appear to the observer from above like a rich mosaic, while all this color is invisible to one who is beneath these trees. All vegetation here is not merely luxuriant, it is composite. There are no solitary trees, no hermits, in the vegetable world. Every trunk is but a trellis for vines, some of them, like the matapalo, strangling the fostering tree, or a nest for plants that do not seem able to get up in the forest on their own stems. If I find a branch in blossom, I must make sure that it is of the tree itself, and not part of some mistletoe-like hanger-on. I have seen single trees bearing on their trunk and branches enough orchids and other choice plants to stock a hothouse. The matapalo deserves more than a passing word, for it is the type of a numerous group of plants in the tropics. This vine may start from the ground, but quite as often it germinates in the hollow of a branch, or among the other parasites of the higher branches; in either case it is at first a slender, innocent-looking vine, clinging timidly to the tree for support and protection. Soon the vine grows until its proportions resemble those of a huge serpent, and it has reached the topmost branches and mingled its own foliage and flowers with those of its trellis. The standard tree is from that moment doomed, and wastes away in the murderous grasp of the vegetable anaconda. The matapalo may fall in the ruin of its decaying foster-parent, but not infrequently it has prepared for the emergency by sending out many a guy and splitting the main stem into numerous buttresses, so that it can stand alone—a very remarkable tree, and one often used as a boundary-mark.

Matapalo Tree.

In this region of the river-bottoms we could linger long; but it must be left, for a scientific description of its treasures would fill many volumes of the size of this, and the explorer has not yet collected[49] the material needed. Any botanist who would devote three months to the thorough exploration of the valley forests of Guatemala ought to add not less than a hundred new species to the flora of the region, and also determine the species of most of the beautiful cabinet woods now known only by their native names.[50]

Climbing the hills brings one to a very distinct vegetation, and here in the uplands are trees in masses; that is, there are whole forests of one or two species, and the representatives of the kinds most common in the cooler regions are found here. There are pine-trees as much as eight feet in diameter, and spruces of little less size. Oaks also of several species are abundant; but the palm family almost disappears in the dryer soil, only the cabbage-palm climbing out of the rich lowlands,—and that is not abundant enough to give character to the vegetation. While in the lowlands the ground is devoid of sod, here the grass carpets the soil, extending to the very tree-trunks, and is kept in fine order by the numerous sheep. Agaves are found on the hillsides, creepers like the clematis take the place of the vejucos, and stevias, bouvardias, and dahlias that of gingers and marantas.

The fourth region is quite as distinct as either of the others. It comprises the dry lava plains where the changes of diurnal temperature are considerable, and where the soil, though rich, is scant and insufficiently watered. Here are found the calabash-tree (Crescentia cujete), espina blanca, or gum arabic, and the cockspur (Acacia spadicifera); while a coarse grass covers the ground between the lava blocks.