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.

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.

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.

In Guatemala there are two families of plants,—Palm and Orchid,—presenting numerous species and of attractive and beautiful appearance, at the same time by no means devoid of commercial importance.

Chief among palms stands the cohune (Attalea cohune), known also as manàca and corozo. When young, the palm has no stem, its enormous leaves rising from the ground more than thirty feet. The rhachis, or midrib, of the pinnate fronds is of a rich red color, and larger round than a man’s wrist, the distinct, conduplicate divisions being long and broad. Mr. Morris estimates a leaf he saw in British Honduras at sixty feet in length and eight feet in breadth. I have never seen one more than forty feet long and five wide; but this is not an uncommon size of the manàca as it is cut for thatching, one leaf extending across the roof. After remaining some years in the manàca state, the stem begins to elongate, and as it rises, the leaves become smaller, as is the case with the coconut and other palms so far as known. The leaf-stems are persistent, giving the tree a rough, untidy look, but doubtless having a purpose to fulfil in the economy of Nature. This palm is now known as corozo, and begins to fruit. The male inflorescence is an immense mass of more than thirty thousand staminate flowers in a compound raceme between four and five feet long; these have a heavy, not disagreeable odor, and attract a great many bees and wasps, so that on one occasion the mozo who climbed the stem and cut for me a fine specimen was badly stung. These insects were so persistent after a great deal of shaking that the camera was used as quickly as possible, specimens were saved, and the spadix was, with the too-attractive flowers, thrown into the river. The pollen, which under the microscope shows a form exactly like a baker’s roll, is in such abundance from the four hundred and fifty thousand stamens that it would fill a pint measure. The spathe, or cover of the inflorescence, looks like leather, is deeply furrowed on the outside, and would make a commodious bath-tub for a child. The fertile spadix has shorter branches, with the rather large flowers succeeded by from five to ten nuts, the whole bunch, which is about five feet long and weighs more than a hundred pounds, bearing from eight hundred to a thousand nuts. These nuts are two and a half inches long, and covered with a fibrous husk and so thick a shell that the valuable kernel cannot be extracted in quantity without powerful and expensive machinery. Like the coconut, the fruit is normally three-celled. But as in that palm two of the cells give up the struggle for existence in early life, so in the cohune; and I have never, in the scores of nuts opened, found more than one cell. Professor Watson has noticed two cells in several specimens, but never three. In the illustration of this palm the bunch of nearly ripe nuts is clearly shown, and in the diagram of flowers and fruit the fibrous husks and the abortive cells may be seen. The natives crush the ripe nuts between stones, and after pounding the rather small kernel in a mahogany mortar, boil the resulting cake until the oil floats; this is skimmed off and boiled again, to drive out the water. The average yield is a quart of oil from a hundred nuts. The oil is said to be superior to coconut-oil, a pint of it giving as much light, or rather burning as long, as a quart of the latter.[51] It is not probable that the manufacture will pay in the presence of the more tractable coconut. As the cohune grows older, the hitherto persistent leaf-stems drop, the scars disappear, and the smooth stem rises thirty to fifty feet clear to the crown of leaves at the summit.

The pimento-palm has a small cinnamon-colored stem much used for house building, as is also the poknoboy (Bactris balanoidea). The warree cohune (Bactris cohune), armed with spines, bears an edible nut much easier to crack than the larger fruit of the attalea. The cabbage-palm (Oreodoxa oleracea) is common in the upper valleys, and the base of the leaf is a very poor cabbage, nor is it eaten to any extent. In the forests the pacaya (Euterpe edulis) is a slender tree, the unexpanded flower-buds being the edible part; and these are on sale in the market-places tied in neat and attractive bundles. In taste it is rather insipid. On the ridges the Acrocomia sclerocarpa flourishes; its stem is, like the warree cohune, armed with formidable spines, which serve as pins, needles, and awls. The Acrocomia vinifera also is common in the valley of the Motagua. Along the river-banks the Desmoncus, a climbing palm, is very common and very troublesome to the explorer; but it shows such a curious adaptation of parts to special ends that its bad qualities may be overlooked by the naturalist. It is generally understood that in the foliage of palms the palmate form is the earlier, and that the growth or development of the midrib results in a pinnate or feather form. This is seen to be the case in the coco-palm, where the first leaves are palmate or fan-shaped; but when the palm is a few months old it puts off these childish garments and dons the toga virilis in the pinnate form. In the desmoncus the development does not stop with the mere lengthening of the midrib, but transforms the leaflets at the end into claws to aid the limp stem to climb into sunlight. Here is a leaf-tip to show how this is done; the ribs of the leaflets, instead of expanding into thin blades, have thickened and bent backward to serve as the barbs of an arrow and allow motion in one direction only. The leaf can push the stiffly bent fingers through the thick foliage, where they stick fast and hold up the stem. The rattan-palm (Calamus rotang) of the East Indies climbs over the trees in a similar way. The Guatemalan climber bears a small cluster of spiny but edible nuts. The graceful little Chamaedoreas may be found in flower or fruit at almost any season of the year, and their slender stems make good walking-sticks. The confra (Manicaria Plukenetii), so useful for thatching, grows only near the sea, usually in clumps of five or more. The nut is globular when one-celled, and about two inches in diameter. The coco (Cocos nucifera) is too well known to need description, though we shall consider the commercial importance of the nuts presently. Of the other fifty or more species of palms few have been identified, and their local names have no meaning for us.

To the family of orchids the collector is sure to turn with eagerness; but I must confess that the brilliant colors and bizarre forms of these flowers are not attractive to me. They are parasites; and although possessing a commercial value far above many more beautiful and honest flowers, only the vanilla has any useful qualities, so far as known. The vanilla moreover is an article of luxury, not necessity; for doubtless the chemist will discover, if he has not already done so, a substitute in some of the thousand and one products of the decomposition of coal-tar.

All along the coast the Epidendrum bicornutum and the Schomburgkia tibicina are very common, affecting mangroves especially. On orange-trees in the Motagua valley grows a bright little yellow Oncidium, the flower being the largest part of the plant. In the mountains is an orchid which bears several long spikes of rich purple flowers, which with the pure white clusters of a ground orchid care much used in church decoration. So little is popularly known of the vanilla (V. planifolia) that I may be pardoned for quoting from Mr. Morris the directions lately issued from his Botanical Department of Jamaica, which are entirely applicable to the plant in Guatemala. In the Chocon forests it grows abundantly and fruits naturally, the insect needed to fertilize the flowers being present; and the pods are of excellent quality.

Vanilla.—“This is a vigorous, soft-stemmed vine, the cured fruits of which are the valuable vanilla-beans of commerce. If cuttings are taken, their upper ends, or portion to appear above ground, may readily be determined by examination of the base of the attached leaf, in the axil or upper face of which is a small growth-bud. Cut the stem with say three or four joints at one fourth of an inch below the basal node or joint, then place the base of each cutting shallowly in prepared soil against the bole or trunk of a rough-barked, low-branching tree, as, for instance, calabash, or on a low-trellised frame three or four feet high, the supports of which should be unbarked logwood, yoke, or calabash.

“If the insect which fertilizes the flowers of this orchid in its natural habitat is not present, in order to secure a crop of fruit it is necessary that the flowers should be artificially fertilized. This may be easily accomplished as follows. In the flower is a central white column, at the summit of which is a detachable cap or anther, which if touched on the lower front edge with a sharpened pencil or knife-blade will adhere to the implement. The pollen masses contained in the anther must then be made lightly to touch the sticky disk situated on the front of the column. Each flower must be so treated at or about noon of the day on which it opens.

“To cure vanilla-beans, gather when full, steep for about two minutes in boiling water, and place in flannel to dry in the sun. When perfectly dry, place them the next day on plates of iron or tin, anointing once or twice with sweet oil, to keep them soft and plump. Complete the curing process by exposing them carefully in the sun for several days [weeks]. When quite cured they should have a uniformly rich brown color, and the full fragrance of this valuable product.”

In my own experience I have found it very difficult properly to dry the pods in the damp atmosphere of the rainy season on the coast, and prefer to use the hot-air dryers now generally used for tea, coffee, cacao, etc.

Of the family of ferns little need be said. The gold-fern (Gymnogramma aurea) is a common weed at Livingston, and adiantums, lygodiums, and selaginellas are found everywhere in the forests. While the small ferns are abundant, tree-ferns are very scarce, only one specimen being seen (in the forests of El Mico), and that not a fine one.

Mahogany.—From the small extent of coast-line possessed by Guatemala, her mahogany exports are perhaps not so extensive as those of the two Hondurases on either side of her. In 1884 there was exported of all woods (mahogany being the chief) from the port of Izabal (Livingston) a measurement of 352,066 feet, valued at four cents a foot, or $14,082.64; while the shipments from Belize for the same time were about 3,000,000 feet, worth $150,000. This is not because the Guatemalan forests yield less of this valuable wood; on the contrary, mahogany-trees are very abundant in the Chocon forests, on the smaller tributaries of the Polochic, and in the Motagua valley. I have myself seen hundreds of immense trees deep in the forests, while along the larger watercourses the trees have generally been cut. In British Honduras the origin and existence of the colony is due to mahogany-cutting. The mahogany-lands are in the hands of a few proprietors who will not sell nor allow settlers, since the young trees grow rapidly; and it is said that in thirty years from a clearing, logs of large size may be cut from the shoots which spring from the stumps. The business of mahogany-cutting is thoroughly organized and made the most of. In the neighboring republic, much of the mahogany-land belongs to the Government, which allows any one to cut the timber on pretended payment of five dollars stumpage. A few private individuals cut here and there and in a desultory way. The work at a mahogany bank is generally done by Caribs, who are skilful woodmen. The hunter or montero strikes alone into the forest and searches for trees. If he finds enough of a suitable size (squaring not less than eighteen inches) within reasonable distance from the “bank,” a road is opened from the tree to the river. Often the buttresses are immense, and the platform, or “barbecue,” is raised a dozen feet from the ground. The log is roughly squared, hauled to the river, usually by night, by the light of pine-torches, and only when floated to port is it trimmed into its final shape for the market. The best mahogany comes from limestone regions.

With the mahogany is usually found the cedar (Cedrela odorata), from which cigar-boxes are made, and which is also used (as is mahogany) for single-log canoas, dories, and cayucos.

As an article of export, logwood ranks next to mahogany, of which the best is found in the region of the Usumacinta. It is not a large tree, fifteen to twenty feet high, and much easier to handle than the mahogany. The dark heartwood alone is used.

The Santa Maria (Calophyllum calaba) is much used in house-building. Rosewood (Dalbergia) grows to a large size and is most beautifully veined, as is also the exquisite Palo de mulatto (Spondias lutea); but both sink in water, and are difficult to transport. I have used rosewood logs twenty inches thick to support a cistern, as they are almost imperishable, and not attacked by insects. Sapodilla (Achras sapota) is nearly as heavy. When freshly hewn, its color is curiously red, beefy in tone; but it soon loses this on exposure, and shrinks considerably. It splits easily, but is so tough that splinters are used as nails in soft woods. Salmwood (Jacaranda, sp.) is light colored, and much used for door and window frames. Ziricote is beautifully veined.

Two species of pine are common, the Pinus cubensis, or ocote, whence is obtained the fat-pine which serves as candle for a great majority of the people of Central America, and the long-leaved pine (P. macrophylla) of the mountains. I have placed in the Appendix a list of other woods valuable in many ways, but never exported, and known only by their local names.

The two products that in former years ranked high among the Guatemalan exports, indigo and cochineal, have now been so completely superseded by other dyes, the product of the laboratory, that they no longer need be considered of importance, although enough indigo is still made to supply native dyers, the Indios especially prizing the true indigo blue. Both dye-stuffs were chiefly cultivated on the Pacific slopes, and I have seen half-neglected nopaleras in the vicinity of Antigua and Amatitlan, the nopal or opuntia generally yielding place to sugar-cane and retiring to the roadside and neglected corners, while the cochineal insect, unfed and uncared-for, is gradually disappearing. In 1883 there were exported 135.02 cwt. of indigo, valued at $16,881.25; while in 1884 only 62.67 cwt., of a value of $7,833.75. A more decided decrease is seen in the exportation of cochineal in those years, the amounts being 184.01 cwt., of a value of $9,200.50, in 1883, against 8.12 cwt., valued at $406, in 1884.

It has been my fortune to visit many of the tropical regions of the world, and I have visited them not from idle curiosity, but with a genuine interest in their inhabitants and productions. I have looked upon the human, animal, and vegetable population of these places as closely as my limited knowledge and the time allowed me would permit. It is an agreeable study to place the physical capabilities of a region, the richness of the soil, the climatic influences, the geographical and commercial situation, side by side with the people, their industry, strength, and intelligence, and from these premises draw the conclusion of the might-be.

Once in travelling alone on horseback over the desert lands which lie between the mountains of the Island of Maui, of the Hawaiian group, I was impressed with the desolate, arid land of that great plain. Stunted indigo, verbena, and malvaceous weeds thinly covered the parched soil, which was cracked in every direction. Ten thousand feet above me rose the vast dome of Haleakala, bare on this landward side, but which had sent down for centuries volcanic ash to make this plain, and which now was covering these earlier deposits with the decomposition of its rich lavas. I examined this soil and found it full of the elements best suited for the growth of cane. As is the case with many of our own Western plains comprised in what was known as the Great American Desert, which have often impressed me as the most inhospitable land, not even excepting the Sahara, I have ever seen, this Hawaiian plain needed only water to turn the desert into a fertile field. I laid before the then Government of Hawaii my plan for reclaiming this land, which in great part belonged to the School Fund. The Minister of Foreign Relations, the Hon. Robert C. Wyllie, a most remarkable man, saw the physical possibilities, but also the financial impossibilities, so far as the Government was concerned. Years went by, when on a second visit to Maui I had the pleasure of seeing that my plan had in part been carried out by private parties, and prospering sugar plantations, valued at many millions, occupied the once waste land.

In travelling through Guatemala I was convinced of the physical advantages the country possessed, though I was not blind to the indisputable fact that of all countries I have seen, Guatemala, in common with the other States of Central America, makes least use of her natural advantages, and does least to overcome those obstacles Nature has thrown in her way. My readers will pardon me, I trust, if, in briefly discussing the present outcome of the soil, I let my imagination, trained and curbed by an extended experience, suggest at the same time what the wonderfully fertile lands of Guatemala might yield, properly cultivated. While I will endeavor to guard myself from all exaggeration, I cannot conceal from myself the fact that those not familiar with tropical luxuriance of growth and fruitfulness will not fully acquit me of this fault so generally charged to travellers.

Sugar-cane.—Arranging the products to be described, not in a scientific order, but in that sequence which their commercial importance seems to suit, sugar-cane easily leads; and this in spite of the difficulties of the labor supply, which I deem of more importance than the artificial competition of the very inferior sugar-beet. It is a bold assertion that no country or climate is better suited to the culture of sugar-cane. I have watched the growth of four of the choicest varieties[52] of cane side by side with that usually cultivated on the Atlantic coast (Bourbon), compared this with the growth of cane in Louisiana, the West Indies, Guiana, the Hawaiian Islands, India, the East Indies, Egypt, and the Mauritius, and I have ascertained the cost of cultivation, expense of living, yield and freight of product to market, in all these various centres of sugar-production, in a much more elaborate way than would be in place to record in this book.

At present the sugar-plantations of any importance are on the Pacific side of Guatemala, although some, as that of San Geronimo, near Salamà, are in the high interior. The valley of the Michatoya is full of small plantations, or ingenios. From the Pacific ports was exported in 1883, 44,927.27 cwt. of sugar, valued at $223,136.35; in 1884. about 7,000 cwt. less. The home consumption of sugar is very great, and most of that raised in the Department of Chiquimula is not exported. Much of the manufacture is by the rudest wooden mills, and the sugar resembles the poorest quality of maple-sugar; it is cooled in wooden blocks in hemispherical form, and comes to market wrapped in corn husks, when it is called panela.

That the sugar production may be better understood, I give the statistics for 1883, as published by the Government. A finca is a plantation; a manzana equals an acre and three quarters, more or less; an arroba weighs twenty-five pounds, and a quintal one hundred pounds.

While this table is by no means exact, it shows fairly the amount of saccharine products and their distribution. It is curious to note how many very small plantations are reported from the Department of Huehuetenango yielding almost exclusively the coarse panela. In Chiquimula the large proportion of sugar is due to foreign enterprise. There the cane-fields are capable of irrigation from the Hondo or other streams, and the cane is chiefly a small red variety. Escuintla and Jalapa have nearly the same area of cane planted, but the former, by superior machinery, produces forty times the amount of sugar, and ten times as much panela. The cultivation at present is almost confined to burying the seed-cane and trashing, that is, stripping the lower leaves twice in a season. In the rich valleys of the Atlantic, cane will grow nine feet in as many months, will yield four tons of sugar to the acre, will rattoon freely for twenty years without replanting, and may be ground during nine months of the year. Much of the product of the cane is in Guatemala converted into aguardiente, or rum. With the exception of the experimental plantation to which I have referred, I know of no sugar fincas in northern Guatemala, although there are several in similar situations in British Honduras.

It is a well-known saying in this part of the world that “Wherever mahogany will grow, there every tropical product will flourish; and wherever logwood grows, there you can produce the finest rice.” Cane certainly is no exception to this rule.

Coffee.—Second on the list may be placed coffee, both from the importance of the present product, and from its very excellent quality. On the coast the Liberian coffee flourishes, and as the berries do not drop as soon as ripe, the trouble of harvesting is much lessened. Most of the crop exported from Livingston goes to England, and it has up to the present time been difficult to obtain the best quality, except through England. In 1883, 404,069.39 cwt. of a value (at twelve cents) of $4,848,832.68 were exported. On this the Government levies a tax, varying year by year, proportioned to the harvest.

The present importance of the coffee interest is shown by the following table of the coffee crop, commencing October, 1883, and ending June, 1884:—

If the figures of this table are correct, the average yield throughout the republic is 0.82 lb. per tree; in Escuintla .65 lb.; in Santa Rosa .60; in Guatemala 1.5; in Quezaltenango and Peten the same; in Alta Verapaz .75; and in San Marcos .40,—figures which show a very large number of non-bearing trees.

Coffee is planted in the shade, and the young plants require the protection of banana or other trees until well established. Plants are set ten feet apart each way, and topped when about six feet high. The Liberian variety is large beaned, and although of a lower price than the best Arabian, is more prolific, and in the lower lands, where the latter does not do well, is certainly more profitable.[53] It begins to bear the third year, produces three to four hundred pounds per acre in the fifth year, attains its maximum in the tenth, and is old in the thirtieth. Coffee exhausts the soil more than any crop except tobacco.

Cacao.—All through the forests of the Atlantic coast cacao grows wild, and even in this condition generally of choice quality. On the Pacific coast are the chief plantations, although the amount exported is insignificant (1,492 lbs. in 1884). Just over the Mexican boundary, in the province of Soconusco, grows the most celebrated cacao known; and probably careful selection of seed and cultivation would produce the same results in Guatemalan territory. Throughout the republic there is probably less cacao raised than before the Conquest, when the nib was current as money, and chocolate a royal drink. Like the coffee-tree, cacao requires protection,[54] which must be continuous, for the cacao never outgrows it; but a thin shade such as the India-rubber affords will answer very well, and in this case the madre cacao is profitable. A cacao-plantation should be in full bearing about the seventh year; and while the curing of the pods requires much care and experience, the cultivation of the trees is very simple. The many varieties and the interesting process by which the bean is prepared for market are well described in the pamphlet to which reference has been made. Plantations in the valleys of the Polochic, Chocon, and Motagua would yield a rich return. In Guatemala are several factories for preparing chocolate from the bean, and I have seen samples of very high quality. It is generally, if not always, flavored with cinnamon, and when used as a beverage is churned or beaten into froth.

India-rubber.—Like the cacao, the Castilloa elastica grows wild in all the coast valleys; but although the Government has placed a bounty on plantations of this very desirable tree, few have been formed. Now, as formerly, the Indios collect the gum in a very wasteful way, and soon the supply will be greatly lessened. I am tempted to quote from Juarros[55] what I believe is the earliest notice of the use of India-rubber for waterproof garments. “On pricking the trunk of this tree [ule] an abundant juice issues, which serves, as Fuentes assures us, to coat a boot, with which one can pass a stream or a swamp dryshod.”

The castilloa grows to a height of about forty to fifty feet, and its clean, smooth stem may be two feet in diameter at the base. The leaves are large, oblong in shape, and rather hairy. The foliage is light green in color, and not very dense. The small greenish flowers appear in February and March, and the seed ripens three months later. Mr. Morris[56] gives the following account of the rubber gathering:—

“The castilloa rubber-tree is fit to be tapped for caoutchoue, or the gummy substance produced by its milk, when about seven to ten years old. The milk is obtained at present, from trees growing wild, by men called rubber-gatherers, who are well acquainted with all the localities inhabited by the Toonu [ule]. The proper season for tapping the trees is after the autumn rains, which occur some months after the trees have ripened their fruit, and before they put forth buds for the next season. The flow of milk is most copious during the months of October, November, December, and January. The rubber-gatherers commence operations on an untapped tree by reaching with a ladder, or by means of lianes, the upper portions of its trunk, and scoring the bark the whole length with deep cuts, which extend all round. The cuts are sometimes made so as to form a series of spirals all round the tree; at other times they are shaped simply like the letter V, with a small piece of hoop-iron, the blade of a cutlass, or the leaf of a palm placed at the lower angle to form a spout to lead the milk into a receptacle below. A number of trees are treated in this manner, and left to bleed for several hours. At the close of the day the rubber-gatherer collects all the milk, washes it by means of water, and leaves it standing till the next morning. He now procures a quantity of the stem of the moon-plant (Calonyction speciosum), pounds it into a mass, and throws it into a bucket of water. After this decoction has been strained, it is added to the rubber milk in the proportion of one pint to a gallon, or until, after brisk stirring, the whole of the milk is coagulated. The masses of rubber floating on the surface are now strained from the liquid, kneaded into cakes, and placed under heavy weights to get rid of all watery particles.” It is true that either very heavy weights are not handy, or the honest Indian wishes to sell water at the price of rubber; for the masses, as I have examined them freshly brought in for sale, contain a large quantity of water held mechanically in the interstices. Alum is sometimes used to coagulate the milk, but is thought to render the gum hard and less elastic. A full-grown tree should yield about eight gallons of milk when first tapped,—which is equivalent to sixteen pounds of rubber, worth from ten to twelve dollars. Although the law of Guatemala forbids the tapping of young trees, and tries to regulate the frequency of the attack, it is ineffectual to prevent the gradual destruction of the wild trees through improvident bleeding, and only the establishment of private plantations will prevent the final extinction of this most valuable source of rubber. The Para rubber (Hevea brasiliensis) grows only in swamps unfit for cultivation; the true rubber (Ficus elastica), so popular a house-plant, does not seem to thrive and yield a supply of rubber away from its native East Indies; and the Ceara rubber of South America (Manihot Glaziovi) is not of easy cultivation, so that the Castilloa certainly promises to be the tree, of the many known to produce rubber, most likely to supply in cultivation that useful gum civilized nations cannot now do without, although the science of adulteration has progressed so far that an ordinary pair of so-called rubber boots contain hardly a spoonful of the pure gum, the rest being sulphur, coal-tar, and other matters.

The trees should be planted forty feet apart; and as the seed is very perishable, it should be planted, or at least packed in earth, as soon as gathered.

Sarsaparilla.—One of the most troublesome vejucos, or vines, common all through the forests of the Atlantic seaboard is the zarza, or sarsaparilla. Probably the American public is familiar with the popular remedies compounded in part with this valuable medicinal plant, which, belonging to the Smilax family, affects damp, warm forests, climbing to great heights over the trees. The portion used is the long, tough root; this the zarza-gatherer digs and pulls from the loose soil, replanting the stem, which in due time replaces its stolen roots, to be again robbed. The roots are washed, loosely bundled, and sold to the dealers, who have the fibres made up into tight rolls, a few hundred of which are then pressed together and sewed up in the thickest hide that can be found; for the “custom of trade” includes the wrapper in the tare of the more costly drug. Most of the sarsaparilla exported from Belize comes from Guatemala and Honduras; but from Livingston more than 60,000 pounds were exported in 1884, of an appraised value of ten cents per pound. The plant is easily propagated by cuttings or seeds, and of course needs no cultivation or clearing; the yield will average twenty pounds of dried root from each plant.

Bananas and Plantains.—No export from Guatemala has increased more rapidly in value than have the products under this head. The permanent establishment of lines of steamers between New Orleans and Livingston, and the bounty offered by the Government, stimulated the planting of many small fincas along the shores and on the river-banks. Under contract with the steamship companies, the producer sells his bananas at 50 cents a bunch (of not less than eight hands) during five months of the year, and for 37½ cents the rest of the year. The cost of production may be placed at 12½ cents per bunch. All these prices are in silver currency of the value of the sham dollar of the United States. Plantains are sold at 25 cents a bunch of twenty-five, sometimes commanding $1.25 per hundred. The profits of this business go, as usual, not to the producer, but to the middle-man or the steamer-companies. For example, a man raises a hundred bunches of good fruit; the cost to him is $12.50 delivered on board the steamer. He is paid in the best season $50 in silver, for which he can get $40 in American gold. The steamer people, after a voyage of four days, during which all their expenses are paid by the passenger-list and the Government mail-subsidies, sell the bananas on the wharf in New Orleans for $125 in gold, or its equivalent,—clearing $85; while the planter, for a year’s labor put into the bananas, gets $30. I have put the price paid the planter at the highest, and the sales in New Orleans at the lowest. The loss is insignificant at these figures, and it is not uncommon for the profits of a single round trip of two weeks to exceed $40,000. Half this shared with the planter would make him rich.

If the planting of bananas is to profit the grower, he must raise enough—say twenty thousand bunches a month—to freight his own steamer, and be independent of the present monopolies of the Italian fruiterers. The extent of this business is seen in the fact that from Livingston in 1883 were exported 29,699 bunches, and in 1884, 54,633, or nearly double the amount.