Beside them palm-trees
raised their heads, heavy with clusters of nuts resembling dates
in size and form, but fit only for wild pigs. Clumps of bamboo
were scattered about, their shoots springing from a common centre
like the streams from a fountain, and sweeping through graceful
curves to a spray of shimmering green. He had never seen such
varieties of growth. There were thick trees with bulbous
swellings; tall trees with buttressed roots that ran high up the
trunks; slender trees propped up head-high above the earth on
tripod-like roots or clusters of legs; trees with bark that shone
like a mirror; trees guarded with an impregnable armor of six-inch
bony spikes--Kirk did not know the names of half of them, nor did
he care to learn.
Vines and creepers abounded, from the tiny honeysuckle that reared
itself with feeble filaments, to the giant liana creeping through
the forest like a python, throttling full-grown trees in its
embrace. On every side was the never-ceasing battle for light and
the struggle of the weak against the strong. The air was heavy
with the breath of triumphant blooms and the odor of defeated,
decaying life. A thousand voiceless tragedies were being enacted;
the wood was peopled by distorted shapes that spoke of forgotten
encounters; rich, riotous, parasitic growths flourished upon
starved limbs or rotting trunks.
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