The upward lines are of every possible thickness, and of almost every possible hue; what leaves they bear, being for the most part on the tips of the twigs, give a scattered, mist-like appearance to the under-foliage.

For the first moment, therefore, the forest seems more open than an English wood.

But try to walk through it, and ten steps undeceive you.

Around your knees are probably Mamures, {129a} with creeping stems and fan-shaped leaves, something like those of a young coconut palm.

You try to brush through them, and are caught up instantly by a string or wire belonging to some other plant.