You look up and round: and then you find that the air is full of wires--that you are hung up in a network of fine branches belonging to half a dozen different sorts of young trees, and intertwined with as many different species of slender creepers.

You thought at your first glance among the tree-stems that you were looking through open air; you find that you are looking through a labyrinth of wire-rigging, and must use the cutlass right and left at every five steps.

You push on into a bed of strong sedge-like Sclerias, with cutting edges to their leaves.

It is well for you if they are only three, and not six feet high.

In the midst of them you run against a horizontal stick, triangular, rounded, smooth, green.