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This little book is based on a series of ten articles written by me for the Lyttelton Times, Dunedin
The text as it now appears has been changed in no small degree—much has been rewritten and amplified, and several additional chapters have been added, parts of two being founded on a paper I published originally in the Young Man's Magazine; while Chapter IX, dealing with introduced plants, is altogether new.
As for the book itself, it is the first attempt to deal with the plant-life of the New Zealand biological region as a whole on ecological lines. The subject is purposely treated in the most elementary manner; technicalities are studiously avoided as far as possible, the scientific names of the plants excepted, as the use of these is obviously unavoidable.
In the chapter dealing with the cultivation of New Zealand plants special reference is made to school gardens, for the guidance of such teachers as may use this book.
The subject-matter is, in part, the outcome of my delightful wanderings for many years over the length and breadth of the Dominion, studying the while the plants as they grow naturally; but, on the other hand, I owe much to the writings of my predecessors and
Besides the photographs taken personally, a few were generously given by Messrs.
The book is published under the auspices of the
Page 7,line 19from top, for "puketea" read "pukatea."
Page 22, line 2 from top, for "well" read "will."
Page 30, line 4 from bottom, "rosy-crimson" refers to M. diffusa.
Page 83, line 10 from bottom, for Placostylis read Placostylus.
Page 89, line 15 from top, for "pink" read "purple."
Page 107, line 2 from bottom, after "green" insert the word "bodies."
Page 120, line 4 from bottom, and also page 170, line 9 from bottom, for chathamica read chathamicum.
Page 139, line 7 from bottom, after "egg" add the words "within the ovule."
The New Zealand biological region—Special botanical interest of New Zealand —Origin of the flora—Australian and South American connections—A bridge to South America—South American worms, spiders, and fishes—South American plants—The struggle for existence—Grass land versus forest—The kowhai of
Lying isolated from neighbouring land-masses far out in the broad Pacific, New Zealand offered conditions for plant-life different from those of most other regions. Its area, greater by far than that of any oceanic group of islands, is sufficient to have allowed the development of a rich vegetation made up of many species. The land of the "Maori and
But when it comes to the question of the plant-life there is a pause. To be sure, New Zealand is known as the land of ferns, and not without truth; yet this admired group is found nearly all the world over, and is really much less important than are plenty of the other in digenous plants. Many members of our flora, indeed, are specially noteworthy, and there is little doubt but that, as a whole, the plants Ranunculus Lyattii. Myosotidium nobile. Veronica gigantea. Species of Species of Polytrichum dendroides and Dawsonia superba.Macrocystis Dnbenii and D'Urvillea utilis.Haastia and Raoulia.
Leaving the above-mentioned remarkable plants to be dealt with in due course, the first question which seeks an answer is how such
Let us in imagination peer into that remote past when New Zealand had finally emerged from the ocean, and when its surface, destitute of all life, was ready to receive its plant and animal immigrants.
Now, it is quite impossible to estimate geological time from figures. When we try to think of millions of years, our minds become confused; and so those long periods during which the earth gradually assumed its present form are designated by certain names representing divisions of geological time. These have been classified according to the fossils contained in the rocks. The divisions are five in number, and are named respectively, beginning with the earliest—the Archaean, the Primary, the Secondary, the Tertiary, and the Quaternary or Recent. These, again, are divided into smaller subdivisions, each, however, still of an unthinkable age.
With the first two great divisions we have nothing to do here. The history of our plants commences at that subdivision of the secondary period known as the Jurassic, when there flourished on the earth in general cycads, ferns, horse-tails, and pine-trees. The ancestors of the present crayfish and molluscs then lived in the seas, and huge reptiles wandered through the moist forests. Those plants which are propagated by means of the minute bodies known as spores—ferns and mosses, for instance—are able to travel vast distances by means of the wind, and, if the conditions are favourable, they soon gain a footing on unoccupied ground. Thus it is quite easy to account for the presence of the same species of the lower groups of plants in many lands far distant from one another. But when one comes to deal with the more highly organized seed-plants, whose seeds could travel over a vast body of water only by the merest chance, and with animals in general, many of which are still less adapted for ocean transit, speculations as to great changes having taken place on the surface of the globe come into play, and former land-connections between regions now separated by the broad ocean have to be assumed.
Without going into details, zoological and botanical statistics and evidence show clearly enough that New Zealand has received its plants from two main sources—(1) the Malay Archipelago and
According to geologists, the land-surface of New Zealand underwent great changes during Tertiary times; at one period reduced to quite a small group of islands, and at another, the land having risen hundreds of feet, stretching north, east, and south, and uniting the scattered members of the archipelago to the main islands. How far "Greater New Zealand," as it may be called, extended is a matter of conjecture, but naturalists are generally agreed that it was joined to
Now, although the author has, in certain of his writings, favoured the idea of a New Zealand-South American union, there is a good deal to be said against the view, especially from the geological standpoint. Perhaps the strongest evidence that a "bridge" to Galaxias, a genus of fresh-water fishes, occurs chiefly in
Evidence derived from a study of plant-distribution can never by itself be regarded as conclusive, since there are various means—such as birds, ocean-currents, floating logs, icebergs, and the wind—by which seeds can be conveyed over the ocean. But the greater the distance to be traversed, the less likely are they to be carried in this manner. Heavy seeds, such as those of the kowhai, could not be blown by the wind for thousands of miles, and yet our plant of that name is identical with one growing in
Besides the kowhai, a number of other species are common to New Zealand and Veronica elliptica, a shrubby speedwell, confined to the coast of the South. Island, to one locality north, of Grassula moschata, a rather small succulent plant with, red stems, common on many parts of the South. Island coast, Colobanthus quitensis, a tiny plant of the pink family, occurring in some parts of the Coriaria ruscifolia, the tutu; Gcurm parviftorum, a pretty white-flowered plant of the subalpine and alpine region;' Luzuriaga marginata (fig. 3), a beautiful little plant, growing amongst moss in forests, and bearing a large white berry, found at sea-level in Southland, J uncus scheuzerioides and J. novae-zelandiae; one of the wood-rushes, Luzula racemosa; Carex Darwini var. urolepsis, which up to the present has only been recorded from C. trifida.
Oxalis magellanica, a pretty white wood-sorrel, occurs in New Zealand,
Quite recently, through the explorations of the Swedes in the first place and of Knightia allied to the rewarewa ( Knightia excelsa), a tree found only in New Zealand, though there are in
Putting on one side the question whether our plants came by land or were conveyed by winds, birds, or water, and granting that they finally got a foothold, it will be seen that soon a struggle would arise between these newcomers for the possession of the soil. Such a strife would be somewhat analogous to that which has taken place between our colonists themselves, and has resulted in riches for some and poverty for others.
Every one who cultivates a garden, however small, has to cope with what are called weeds— This matter is gone into again in Chapter IX.i.e., with the plants equipped in some special manner for occupying the soil at the expense of others. A species that can rapidly reproduce itself from seed, or by suckers, creeping stems, and the like, has a great advantage over one of slower propagating-power, and will soon smother it out by force of numbers alone. Some plants have large leaves, which they flatten against the ground, and so occupy at once more than their share of the soil. Others have a peculiar taste, making them objectionable to snails, slugs, or insects, and so triumph over plants liable to the attacks of such animals. But there is no need to multiply instances; any one interested can search for examples, and a most fascinating quest it is.
In nature this strife between plants is always in progress—a silent but nevertheless a deadly conflict. The calm aisles of a forest are a battlefield where the trees, shrubs, and more lowly plants strive for the mastery, while at the same time the forest itself wages incessant war with the adjoining grass-land—the one or the other aided by climatic changes, an abundant rainfall favouring the forest and drier conditions the meadow. Thus, when the plant immigrants arrived from the north and from the south, these two bands of invaders from quite different regions, and not attuned to each other, would engage in fierce battle; many would fall, and those escaping would be driven into inhospitable spots.
What may be accepted as traces of such warfare are still to be encountered. For instance, the beech (Nothojagus) forests may be taken as typical of southern South America—of stormy
A remarkable example of the restricted distribution of a tree is shown by the kowhai of
How many plants of which no trace has been found may have existed in New Zealand, and may have been destroyed through changes of conditions leading to some slight advantage for their competitors, none can tell; but that many ancient types of surpassing interest must have so perished is quite well known from such fossil plants as have been found, and amongst which, side by side with existing genera, are others not now to be found in any part of Australasia.
It has been shown above how a constant warfare goes on between the plant inhabitants of the most quiescent forest or meadow, and how some survive and others perish. This truth forms the corner stone of the doctrine of evolution. Just as there is no actual stability in the vegetation of a region, so is there none in the individual species. Constant change is the undeviating plan of nature.
The original plant-immigrants settling down in their new home would be exposed to novel conditions of soil and climate, and to con tact with other plants and animals. This new environment would possibly bring about slight changes in the organisms, and in time
Three principal, theories are in vogue. The first, of which Darwin and
Quite recently the eminent Dutch botanist, Phormium, Veronica, Epilobium, Celmisia, and Ranunculus are genera which might with profit be studied experimentally, and which will never be properly understood otherwise.
A third school believes that the direct action of the conditions to which a plant or animal is exposed evokes changes in accord with such conditions. This is called the New Lamarckian doctrine, or the doctrine of the inheritance of acquired characters. For instance, if a plant grows in a wind-swept locality (fig. 4), according to this view, in the course of time its descendants might have the form of wind-swept plants no matter where they grow. Or if a land plant could be grown successfully in water, it might develop special structures peculiar to
The plants having come to New Zealand, having fought many battles, and having in numerous cases given rise to new species, their final settling-down might, at the first glance, seem the work of blind chance. Yet it was nothing of the kind.
A seed falling upon any piece of ground would, if it germinated, depend for its subsistence upon its power to make the best of the circumstances. Were other better-equipped plants present, the species in question would be wiped out. Also, were its structure and organs not suitable for living under the conditions provided, it would soon vanish even were there no competition. In consequence, soil and climate exercise a selective power, and so permit various species of plants to live together under a definite set of conditions. Thus have come into being those collections of plants known as plant societies or associations, Also called by some "plant-formations," but there is no uniformity as yet in the use of this term.
The two most important groups of plant societies are forests and grass-land. There are numerous varieties of both in New Zealand, and some of them are described further on. Another large class consists of those societies which depend upon the presence of an excess of water in the soil, as in swamps and bogs; while some plants float upon the water of streams or lakes, or are quite submerged. Others owe their presence to the very opposite set of circumstances—scarcity of water; and even in humid, New Zealand something like a desert vegetation may be found in not a few places, but its presence depends rather on the nature of the soil than on an insufficient rainfall. Then there are the societies peculiar to the sea-coast, where salt in the soil and exposure to strong winds are important factors. In such places are sandhills, salt meadows and marshes, shingly or sandy beaches, and cliffs. Rocks have societies of their own, and
From what has been said, it can be seen how important a part the study of plant societies plays in the investigation of the botany of any region. Those of New Zealand, unlike those of Europe, temperate Asia, and even much of
Sir Joseph Banks—His love of natural history—Banks and
As was shown in the last chapter, if long descent counts for anything, the plants of New Zealand rank high among the aristocracy of the vegetable kingdom. On the other hand, their first historians became acquainted with them only one hundred and forty-one years ago.
Even from boyhood Banks had shown much taste for natural history. The story goes that, walking along an English lane gay with wild flowers, he exclaimed, "How beautiful! It is surely more natural that I should be taught to know all these productions of nature in preference to Latin and Greek!" From that time onwards natural science was his occupation, and during a long lifetime he devoted his wealth and energies to its advancement. Thus it was that, at his own expense, he presided over the natural-history investigations of
Banks and Senecio perdicioides), which they collected at
Banks caused about two hundred fine folio copperplate engravings to be prepared, and descriptions of more than three hundred plants were written by
This second voyage of
The remains of Lycopodium Billardieri).
The elder
In 1791,
And now the French come into our story, for science is cosmopolitan. In 1822, Rapanea Urvillei, Pseudopanax Lessonii, and Polystichum Richardi: while D'
He was botanist to
The two Cunninghams found many "new" plants—i.e., such as had not been described in any publication. These, together with a description of the other known New Zealand plants, were published by
The visit of the French to Raoulia, (fig. 5), bestowed on them in his honour by Pittosporum obcordatum) in the neighbourhood of
Six years before
As a missionary amongst the Natives in the very early days of the colony, Drapetes, Ourisia, Cyathodes, Abrotanella, and Raoulia."
Further on, sentiment exhausted, the naturalist sought the practical. "But how was I to carry off specimens of these precious prizes, and had I time to gather them? These mental pictures completely staggered me, for I realised my position well. We had left our encampment that morning, taking nothing with us, so we were all emptyhanded, and no New Zealand flax grew there. However, as I had no time to lose, I first pulled off my jacket, a small travelling-coat, and made a bag of that, and then, driven by necessity, I added thereto my shirt, and by tying the neck, &c., got an excellent bag; whilst some specimens I also stowed in the crown of my hat."
Colensoa.
Between the publication of the "Flora Novae-Zelandiae" and the Handbook many important botanical explorations were undertaken in New Zealand, and the alpine flora of the
Forstera Bidwillii and other plants bear his name.
The extremely interesting mountains of Traversia, which is now, however, merged in Senecio.
terra incognita, making every use of his opportunities as Provincial Geologist. According to Haastia, is a slight tribute to his exertions.
Farther south,
The earlier work of Euphrasia repens, is almost wanting in herbaria. The genus
The publication of
From this short sketch, which does but scant justice to the history of botanical research in New Zealand, it can be seen that our knowledge of the flora has been a thing of slow growth, and that it represents the labour of many men. Such arduous work has, for the most part, brought little, if any, pecuniary gain to its votaries, and in many cases still less recognition from their fellow-colonists, or even from
A priceless possession—Rain-forest climate—The two classes of forests—General characteristics of the mixed forest—Origin of special forest plants—Lianes and epiphytes—Flowers—Fertilisation—New Zealand timbers—The kauri forest—The kahikatea forest—The mixed forest and its distribution— Beech forests.
However little the average New-Zealander may know about the plants of his country, few there are who cannot raise some enthusiasm regarding the "bush," as the forest is everywhere called. To old and young it is a delight—the stately trees; the birds, fearless of man; and, above all, the wealth of ferns appeal to all. But that this forest is a unique production of nature, found in no other land, is not a matter of common knowledge, though truly it has many claims to be considered a priceless possession.
According to the famous plant-geographer, Schimper, New Zealand has a rain-forest climate. That is to say, if no inhibitory conditions existed, one green mantle of trees would cover the whole land. Although this is not the case at present, it was in great part so when the early settlers arrived.
But this great forest was not all of one kind. The need of timber for house-building soon proved that various kinds of trees were more abundant in one locality than in another, and that some were wanting in one forest while plentiful elsewhere. As the trees had in many cases Maori names, the settlers soon learnt—in a rough manner, it is true— something as to the composition of the forests and their distribution. But, as some Maori names are used very loosely, accuracy was quite impossible. In this little book, therefore, although it is written for the non-botanical, the scientific names, which are definite, are used, as well as their more popular equivalents when such exist.
There are two distinct classes of New Zealand forests—viz., those consisting of many different species of trees, and those that are formed of but one kind, or nearly so. To the first category belong, with one or two exceptions, most of the lowland forests,
Let us consider first the ordinary mixed forests, the "bush" par excellence. These differ so considerably in their composition as really to constitute different societies, but all have much in common.
With one or two exceptions the trees are evergreen, and consist of many species belonging to diverse families. Occasionally the bases of the trunks develop plank-like buttresses (fig. 7), and their uppermost roots frequently stretch over the forest-floor, half-buried, or at times raised high above the ground. Such roots and bases of the trees are closely covered with mosses and liverworts. In their interstices humus lodges, in which many ferns and seedling plants find a fitting home.
The forest is made up of different layers, if we consider the general level of the foliage. The tall trees form the uppermost layer; the
Tree-ferns, sometimes 20 ft. or 30 ft. in height, with enormous feathery leaves like giant umbrellas, frequently occur, often in groups
and groves. Close-growing, small-leaved, shrubs of dense habit form thickets. On tree-fern stems, on fallen trees, and even on the forest-floor are sheets of delicate filmy ferns. Lichens of great size, white or golden or dusky, abound (fig. 8). Perched high up in the forest-roof, in the forks of the branches are bird-nest-like masses, several feet in circumference, of a plant of the lily family (kahakaha, Astelia Solandri) (fig. 9). Long fronds of ferns and lycopods several feet in length hang drooping from the boughs, and certain orchids, with aerial roots, and Dysoxylum spectabile), and not, as usual, from amongst the leaves. Now, should a botanist knowing nothing of New Zealand read this description, he would at once conclude it was no account of the forest of a temperate climate, but of one in the tropics. And this is quite true: the common 'forest of New Zealand, owing partly to its origin but far more to the moist and equable climate, must be classed with the tropical, not with the temperate forests.
The forest also tells us a good deal about the evolution of the wonderful adaptations of certain plants to the conditions it provides. On walking through its interior one cannot fail to notice the subdued light, which is so much less than in the open. Above all things, most plants require sunlight. Without this they cannot manufacture in their leaf laboratories their necessary food from the carbonic acid of the air. In a forest, then, there must be a struggle for the sunlight. The tall trees meet the difficulty by raising their tops high into the heavens. But with the smaller plants it is another matter, and these must either become attuned to a minimum of light, or make some special effort to get their fair share. Consequently, we find a spindling habit of growth in many young forest-trees—long, straight, thin stems, and few lateral branches; "drawn up to the light" is the gardener's phrase.
Carry out this idea a little further, and you have certain plants putting out long shoots, which, too weak to stand alone, lean against other trees for support. Go a little further still, and such long shoots develop certain organs to assist them to cling to the supporting tree. So, by slow degrees, modification after modification arises for the end in view, until the wonderful family of lianes or climbing-plants is evolved, whose roots can enjoy the cool and rich soil of the forest-floor, but whose crowns dispute with the tree-tops for the light of heaven, and under its influence bring forth their flowers, ripen their fruits, and manufacture stores of food within their green leaves.
Lianes may be conveniently divided into scramblers, root climbers, twiners, and tendril climbers, names which speak for themselves. Fuchsia Colensoi, a much more slender plant than the tree-fuchsia
The various species of climbing-ratas cling most closely when young by means of numerous short roots to the tree-trunks, their leaves more or less flattened against the bark, but finally, as the stems become cord-like, or rope-like, the roots wither away. For the different species the Maoris had the general name "aka." so scientific names here are alone available. Metrosideros florida, the giant of the group, has cable-like stems, sometimes 6 in. or more in diameter, covered with loose bark. It bears splendid scarlet flowers. M. albiflora, M. scandens, M. Colensoi, and
The well-known supplejack (Rhipogonum scandens), a plant of the lily family, forms close entanglements in most lowland forests (fig. 11) Originally many of these stems have wound round young trees, which Muehlenbeckia, relatives of the common dock, are also twining-plants. They are easily recognised by their soft, green, abundant leaves, and when in fruit by the small black nuts seated on a fleshy and almost transparent cup. Very frequently, as bush boys and girls well know, their rope-like stems hang swaying from the forest-roof, the original support long vanished. Parsonsia heterophylla, a pretty plant producing abundance of small sweet-scented flowers, is another very common twining-liane. It occurs especially on the forest-outskirts, or where the bush has been partially cleared. It and its near relative,
The mange-mange ( Lygodium articulatum) is a beautiful climbingfern, whose masses of tough slender stems wound round one another make a substitute for a wire-wove mattress by no means to be despised. The leaf of an ordinary fern consists of a stalk and blade, the continuation of the former being called the midrib. The blade may be divided or undivided; in the former case the divisions may be little leaves, each with its own stalk. In nearly all cases the leaf continues to increase in length for a certain time, when its growth is concluded. There is usually no further increase year after year. But the remarkable fern we are considering (
A spore is any single cell that becomes free from the parent plant and is capable of developing into a new individual. The spores of ferns are contained in spore-cases, and groups of these make the dots or round patches on the under-surfaces of some of the leaves of ferns.
Those beautiful flowering-plants, the clematises, are tendril climbers, the tendrils being modified leaf-stalks. Clematis indivisa is the large white-flowered species; C. hexasepala has also white but smaller flowers; ColensoiC. afoliata is a curious form which looks rather like a mass of rushes. It has few or no true leaves; but they would be a harm rather than a benefit, for it grows in extremely dry places. All the New Zealand species of Clematis have male and female flowers on separate plants, the male being much the more showy.
The New Zealand passion-flower (Tetrapathaea australis) is another tendril climber. In autumn its orange or red fruits, containing numerous black seeds, are very showy. It is not found everywhere, and does not go farther south than
All the lianes are worthy of the closest study, and not the least interesting point is to observe the differences between the climbing and non-climbing shoots. Also, it is remarkable how certain species, such as some of the lawyers and Metrosideros scandens, are lianes under one set of conditions and virtually shrubs under another. It is interesting, too, to grow this class, of plants from seed, and to observe how the climbing habit is not shown at all, or very little, by the early seedling (fig. 12).
Another method by which plants seek the light is to boldly leave the ground and perch high on the trees. Most instructive transitions between this perching habit and the normal may be observed in any New Zealand forest. The perching-lilies (Astelia) (fig. 9) also grow on rocks or form huge clumps on the ground. Many ferns live indifferently either on trees or the forest-floor, as does also the lovely shrubby forest-groundsel (Senecio Kirkii). Certain plants are almost exclusively perchers (epiphytic). Thus
Seedling trees are very common as perching-plants, or epiphytes, to use the scientific term, and some of the forest giants begin their career in this manner. These finally send down to the ground Metrosideros robusta), the tree-heath of the Chathams( Dracophyllum arboreum), and in the south the broadleaf (
Though many plants are eager to get into the fresh air and sunlight, others are, the reverse, and have developed different adaptations in accord with other aspirations. The interior of a thick forest has an atmosphere charged with vapour not altogether unlike that of a glasshouse. Plants living under such conditions are subject to much the same environment as submerged water-plants, and have developed similar leaves, which are so thin as to be able to absorb any water which may fall upon their surfaces. Such, amongst others, are the filmy ferns (species of Hymenophyllum and Trichomanes), the beautiful crape-fern Todaea superba, and its relative Todaea hymeno phylloides. Plants like these can exist only in a moist atmosphere; the full rays of the sun or a dry atmosphere cause them to shrivel up, and they soon die when removed from their forest home. Many mosses and liverworts also belong to this category, and mimic in their forms the smaller ferns, to which, of course, they bear no relationship.
New Zealand forests are not distinguished for their brilliant flowers. On the contrary, most of our forest blossoms are inconspicuous and of a dull colour. But there are some notable exceptions. The northern and southern ratas (Metrosideros robusta and M. lucida) bear multitudes of crimson blossoms. The yellow kowhai (Sophora grandiflora and S. microphylla) has been fitly termed the New Zealand laburnum. The various species of trees known as lacebark (Hoheria, populnea, H. sexstylosa, and H. angustifolia) are, in their season, dense masses of snowy flowers. Pennantia corymbosa (the kaikomako) vies in its purity with any bridal flower. The putaputaweta (
The heketara ( Olearia Cunninghamii) produces multitudes of daisylike flowers in the spring. The wineberry (
The methods by which flowers are fertilised are of high interest, and for the past half-century have received much attention. Space permits only a brief mention here.
The majority of flowering-plants have two special organs for purposes of fertilisation, the stamen and the pistil. The former produces a yellow "dust," the pollen; the latter contains within a little chamber In the pines the ovules are not enclosed, in a chamber, and there is no stigma. The pollen is conveyed by the wind and deposited on the ovules directly.i.e., the little plant with seed-leaves and rudimentary root and stem—is fully developed, is termed the seed.
In some instances the stamens and pistil are close together on the same flower, and pollen and stigma are ready the one for the other at the same time, in which case the flower can fertilise itself. But in a considerable number of instances self-fertilisation is impossible, and the pollen of one flower must be applied to the stigma of another. Such cross-fertilisation, as it is called, has been proved to be beneficial for many plants. A large percentage of New Zealand trees and shrubs have the pollen-bearing flower on the one plant and the ovule-bearing on another. Others again are so constructed that the pollen is ripe before the stigma of the same flower is ready to receive it, or the stigma may in other species be developed before the pollen. In all these cases cross-fertilisation is alone possible. This may take place in two ways: either the wind may carry the pollen from one flower to another, as in the genus Coprosma and in many other cases, rôle. Birds also fertilise a few New Zealand plants, amongst others the puriri ( Vitex lucens) and the waiuatua (
This action of insects in fertilising plants has led to a widely spread error in New Zealand, and one is frequently gravely informed that bees change the colours of flowers—"inoculating" is the term used. That is to say, the opinion is held that a bee sucking honey from, say, a white flower can turn it red, or blue, or yellow, as the case may be. Of course, neither a bee nor any other insect can do anything of the kind. If, however, the pollen of one flower is transferred by means of an insect, the wind, or any other agency, to the stigma of a closely related individual, of a different colour, the seed which is eventually produced may give rise to a plant bearing a flower coloured differently to that of the parent plant; or, in other words, a hybrid has been produced. Here, then, is the source of the error in an imperfectly understood truth.
The forests are of great commercial importance to the Dominion. Some of the timbers are excellent for house-building, others are used as piles for bridges and sleepers on railways, and some are ornamental and can be used for furniture and general decorative work. The wood of the kauri ( Agathis australis) is celebrated the world over, but, alas, it is rapidly being exhausted. There seems, however, every probability, according to the late
At the same time, it must not be forgotten that forests, apart altogether from their timber value, are of the greatest importance to all countries because they help to conserve and regulate the water-supply—a quite different matter, however, to influencing the rainfall. Thus no forest-growth, whether primeval or secondary, should be destroyed without some strong economic reason. There are thousands of acres fit only for the natural growths now clothing them, and the destruction of these forests would be a fatal mistake.
An important by-product of the kauri is the resin, known as "gum." This is usually dug out of the ground, covered now by the northern heath, but originally occupied by kauri forest. Trees, also, have incisions made into their bark—a mischievous proceeding, the sap flowing out freely, and soon hardening into resin, which is removed finally by men who climb the trees (fig. 14).
The kahikatea (Podocarpus dacrydioides), the rimu ( Dacrydium cupressinum), and the miro (
Other valuable timbers are: The northern rata (Metrosideros robusta), which is extremely hard and useful for wheelwright's work and bridge-building, as well as being an excellent firewood; the various species of Nothofagus, especially N. fusca, yielding a durable and strong building-material, which warps more or less; the pahautea (Libocedrus Bidwillii), a very light wood, of a red colour, out of which canoes have been made; the towai or kamahi (
Further details, however, are unnecessary; they may be found by those interested in
As stated at the beginning of this chapter, New Zealand contains many varieties of forests. Here only some of the more distinct are mentioned.
The kauri forest extends from the north of Agathis australis) (fig. 15) is not a close relation of the Old World pines, but is nearer to the monkey-puzzle family (
A kauri forest by no means consists of that tree alone, for the taraire ( This is specially true of the northern forests. Those of the Beilschmiedia tarairi)—very handsome, with its rather large leaves, darkish - green above and bluish - white beneath—is often dominant. Beilschmiedia tawa).
High above the general forest-roof tower the great spreading branches, themselves equalling forest-trees in size. At the base of each tree is a pyramidal mound of humus caused by the shedding of the bark. Common in the kauri forest is the fantastic and irregular trunk of the rata (Metrosideros robusta) (fig. 17), its base covered with sheets of translucent kidney-ferns ( Trichomanes reniforme).
Seen from without, a kauri forest is equally remarkable. The spreading heads of the kauris rise so high above the general forest-roof that it looks as if one forest were superimposed upon another. Very frequently there is found in the undergrowth a miniature tree-fern (Blechnum Fraseri), which has a very slender trunk 1 in. or less in diameter—not thicker, indeed, than a stout walking-stick—and rarely more than 3 ft. tall, and which spreads into large colonies by means of long slender creeping stems. Dicksonia lanata, too, another small treefern, but with a stout trunk, is frequently plentiful in some places, and may then form much of the undergrowth.
The kahikatea forest consists almost exclusively of Podocarpus dacrydioides— multitudes of long, straight trunks, like masts of ships, rising from the swampy ground. High up some of the stems climb the New Zealand screw-pine, the kiekie (Freycinetia Banhsii), which also everywhere forms a rigid entanglement along the forest floor. Dead trees bridge the ever-present pools of water, and certain shrubs, of which in the north Coprosma tenuicaulis is one, form more or less dense thickets.
The mixed forest varies according to latitude and altitude, but a general groundwork of plants is always present. Many northern forms are wanting in the south, and, conversely, the more important southern species are less frequent in the north at a similar elevation. Latitude 38° forms a fairly definite boundary for quite a number of trees and shrubs, and latitude 42° a second boundary, though, the former, and to a greater extent the latter, is overstepped in several instances.
The pines (species of Podocarpus and Dacrydium), as they are popularly called, but more correctly designated taxads, since they are related to the yew (
Amongst the trees not spreading much beyond latitude 42° are some very common ones of the northern forests. Some of these are—the karaka (Corynocarpus laevigata), which reaches Beilschmiedia tawa); the kohekohe, or New Zealand cedar
The southern mixed taxad forest extending from latitude 42° to the south of
The beech forests (fig. 18), incorrectly called "birch" by the settlers, consisting of species of Sometimes a species of Nothofagus, are quite distinct from all those of which we have hitherto treated, although they have some species in common. The dense growth of the evergreen foliage shuts out a large percentage of light, and in consequence the undergrowth is scanty. Some N. cliffortioides) contain in many parts little but seedling beech-trees. Woody lianes, too, are wanting,Rubus is present (R. schmidelioides, var. coloratus). Polystichum vestitum, is frequently abundant (fig. 19). The tree-trunks are frequently covered completely with a black fungus (
There are six species of beech in New Zealand. Elsewhere the genus occurs in the south of N. fusca and N. Menziesii,
called respectively the red and silver beeches, have toothed leaves, those of the first named being thinner, larger, and of a more vivid green. It also has distinct plank-buttresses on the trunk, and is at times a tree of huge dimensions. The other species have entire leaves; but only two—the mountain-beech (
Some peculiarities of New Zealand shrubs—The southern heath—the northern heath—Parasitic plants—The central heath—New vegetation since eruption of Tarawera—Adaptations of the heath plants—The subalpine scrub—Shrubby veronicas and daisy-trees—Contrivances of scrub plants to resist drought — Prolonged juvenile forms of New Zealand plants — Some interesting experiments—Various forms of the yellow kowhai.
In all gardens where a, speciality is made of our native plants, it is not the trees which are there to be found, but rather the shrubs of the open country. Obviously, these latter are more easy to cultivate than forest plants. But this is not the sole reason: it is special beauty of form or flower that has marked them out as of peculiar merit. In any large garden in the world New Zealand shrubs would deservedly occupy a prominent place. Moreover, they belong, in many instances, to families which have no shrubby representatives in the Old World, whence all our ideas as to botanical form are derived.
The Germander speedwell is a pretty little creeping-plant of English lanes, with bright - blue flowers. It has many relatives in the Old Country, and in both hemispheres; but, with the exception of its New Zealand cousins, one other in
The New Zealand shrubs, too, show some excellent examples of a certain remarkable phenomenon common amongst our plants, but much less frequent in other regions of similar size. This is the passing-through a juvenile form, during the development of the individual,
There are distinctly two kinds of natural shrubberies in New Zealand —viz., those covering extensive areas with a monotonous, uniform garb, and those occurring mainly in belts composed of many different species of shrubs. The former may be designated "heaths," the latter "scrubs."
All over New Zealand the heaths owe their physiognomy to the dominance of the manuka ( Leptospermum scoparium), a plant belonging to the myrtle family, with slender stiff stems, small leaves, and numerous white flowers. These heaths may consist almost entirely of manuka, or other shrubs may be mixed through it. In whatever part of New Zealand it may occur, manuka heath is distinctly a sign of poor land. This shrub is of most catholic tastes. Dry ground or wet, it is all one. It may be found in swamps, knee-deep in water, in sour sphagnum bogs, on wind-swept sandhills, on the faces of dry cliffs, and even on ground impregnated with "chemicals" near boiling springs and mud-volcanoes. Besides the above species, there is also the tree-manuka,
In the Leptospermum scoparium. Sometimes other shrubs occur in varying quantities, of which
Where the ground is very wet, as on the pakihis of western Nekon, the heath approximates to bog, and would be so reckoned but for the small amount of peat on the surface. The plant-covering consists of various rush-like sedges (Cladium glomeratum, C. teretifolium, C. capillaceum), the bog umbrella-fern, a creeping club-moss, a beautiful gentian (Gentiana Townsoni), Epacris pauciflora, the very rare eyebright (Anagosperma dispermum), some orchids and sundews, and, of course, abundance of manuka.
In the northern part of the Olearia furfuracea), some plants of the heath family (
Beneath the shrubs, or in the open spaces, is a profusion of the graceful club-moss (Lycopodium densum).The climbing Gleichenia circinata and G. dicarpa) form considerable colonies. Everywhere are two rush-like plants ( Schoenus brevifolius and
C. paniculata belongs to that remarkable class of plants known as parasites. These are plants which live at the expense of others, to which they are attached. They are provided with special organs for draining the "life-blood" of their unfortunate host. Many, such as the plant in question, have little if any leaf-green, and so are quite incapable of manufacturing their food; but a number, amongst which must be numbered the New Zealand mistletoes (Tupeia, Elytranthe, &c.), are quite able to manufacture the requisite sugars, but nevertheless maintain entirely the parasitic habit. Parasites must not be confused with perching-plants (epiphytes), as is so often done. The latter are lodgers, or guests, who live on the surface of other plants, but do not draw on them for supplies.
On the pumice-covered tableland towards the centre of the Gaultheria oppositifolia, with a profusion of flowers like a glorified lily of the valley. Here also is a peculiar brownish-leaved shrub of the heath family,
In 1886 the eruption of Tarawera led, to the burying of large areas of this plant society by volcanic ash. So thickly did this fall that in some places an actual new land-surface was formed for repopulation. This was of great interest, since opportunities for observing the settlement of a large area of virgin soil under natural conditions are rarely afforded; and in this case there is a clue to what may have taken place long ago in the evolution of the plant-covering of the adjacent country.
Where the heath was but thinly covered, it has reappeared almost in its original form; but where the covering was many feet in depth there is quite a different story. Very shortly after the eruption heavy rain occurred, and the comparatively loose soil was cut into innumerable deep but narrow gullies, with many lateral ones opening into them. The sharp ridges between these gullies are bare, but on their sides wave masses of toetoe grass (Arundo conspicua), a plant not very abundant in the adjacent heath. The "seeds" of this grass would, of course, be brought by the wind. Another common member of the new society is the tutu (Coriaria ruscifolia), its "seeds," of course, having been brought from the plants of the adjacent heath by birds.
Without water, plants cannot exist. It may therefore be expected they have developed many special contrivances to insure the necessary supply. Especially important are those connected with water storage or saving, where there is danger of drought. The clay hills on which the northern heath flourishes, although soaked with water in the winter, become exceedingly dry in the summer, and had the plants no provision for husbanding; their water they would die for lack of moisture.
The leaves of plants serve various purposes. On their undersurfaces usually are many most minute openings, too small by far to be seen with the naked eye, which afford communication between the interior of the leaf and the atmosphere. Through these openings a constant stream of water-vapour issues, and through them, too, a perpetual current of air enters. From the air the plant gets its oxygen for breathing, and its carbonic acid for food purposes, while the water passing away makes room within the plant for a fresh supply charged with nutritive matter drawn from the soil by the roots. If,
Many contrivances have been evoked to hinder this, and the form of the leaves is in part an expression of the relation of a plant to its water-supply. The heath and the subalpine-scrub plants noted below show many interesting drought-resisting contrivances. Although a leaf loses water principally through its minute pores, some may pass away from the whole leaf-surface. To hinder this the surface is specially thickened, or covered with water-resisting substances, such as wax.
Variations of leaf-form play an important part. Do away with leaves altogether and the case is met. Carmichaelia australis, a northern plant of the pea family, is leafless, but has green, flattened stems, which can function as leaves. The almost leafless wild-irishman (
In many places on the high mountains in New Zealand, especially in a part where the rainfall is excessive, upon emerging from the upper forest one is confronted with a formidable natural fence, many chains in breadth, dividing the forest from the meadow land. On certain mountains this belt is absent, or represented by stunted beechtrees or isolated patches of shrubs. The above barrier, composed of a thick and varied growth of shrubs, is designated the "subalpine scrub," and if unprovided with a. track is virtually impenetrable (fig. 21). The shrubs, dense in themselves, have such wiry or rigid branches interlacing into one another that no passage can be made between them. In many places where it is impossible to crawl on one's hands and knees beneath the close mass, the only alternative is to walk upon the top.
At first sight it might seem that such plants would be worthless for garden purposes, and yet they are the very élite of the New Zealand flora. The scrubs of the montane and subalpine river-beds and terraces may also be included here.
These scrubs are the headquarters of the shrubby speedwells (Veronica).Here is Veronica cupressoides, named most fittingly, for no one seeing it for the first time and out of bloom could dream it was not a cypress. Other veronicas met with are — V. buxifolia var. odora, forming shining green bushes, round as a cricket-ball;
V. Traversii, which is of similar habit, but with much less glossy foliage;
Daisy-shrubs ( Olearia) are much in evidence. Common are—
Other plants of the daisy family are the cassinias, C. Vauvilliersii and
The heaths are represented by various species of Dracophyllum and by Archeria Traversii and
Dracophyllum Traversii is a magnificent small tree, with smooth, naked, brown stems, crowned at their extremities with rosettes of stiff, reddish leaves, having long-drawn-out points arching downwards. The subalpine flax (
Little can be said here regarding the adaptations of the members of this society. Like subalpine plants the world over, their surroundings, notwithstanding an abundant rainfall, demand protection against drought. A dense, felt-like mass of hairs is frequently present on the under-surfaces of the leaves. Very leathery leaves are common, and these have a special internal structure to account for their leatheriness, which is of advantage to its possessors. Other adaptations similar to those found in the before-described heath plants are frequently present.
If the seed of Veronica cupressoides, or of any one of the "whipcord veronicas," as they are aptly designated, be sown, it will quickly germinate and produce a young plant, altogether distinct from its parent. In the old plant the leaves are represented by green scales pressed closely against the stem; they are also thick, and have a peculiar anatomical structure. In the seedling, on the contrary, there are true leaves with, a stalk and blade, which are quite thin and of an anatomical structure absolutely different from that of the adult. In other words, the juvenile and the adult plants might be two different species, each adapted for a quite different mode of life, the adult for an arid climate and the juvenile for a moist forest region.
If we are in a position to carry on our investigations a little further, and to grow some of the seedlings in the open air and others in a glass case so constructed as to always contain air saturated with moisture, the plant in the open will by degrees assume the adult and dry-climate habit, while the other will remain in the juvenile and wet-climate form, not for a week or two merely, but for years; indeed, so long as it is kept in a "moist chamber" it will remain a juvenile plant.
And now for a third experiment. Take a rooted cutting of an adult piece of the veronica, and place it in the moist chamber. After a few weeks its new growth will be of the juvenile form, and juvenile and adult leaves will be on the plant at the same time (fig. 24). Similar experiments with certain of the New Zealand brooms (Carmichaelia) and with the wild-irishman ( Discaria toumatou) will lead to a similar result. To inquire into this matter at length would be out of place here, but any general account of New Zealand plant-life would be most incomplete without some reference to this extraordinary phenomenon. A few analogous examples may throw a little light on the subject. Many coprosmas and other shrubs belonging to diverse families
The following are some of these shrubs: The weeping-matipo (Suttonia divaricaia), Pittosporum rigidum, the mountain-currant {Aristotelia fruticosa), the wauwaupaku (Nothopanax anomalum), various species of Hymenanthera, and Melicytus micranthus.
If seed of the small-leaved kowhai ( Sophora microphylla) be sown, a small and erect plant soon appears. But after a time this puts forth
zigzag branches, and in a year or two a shrub of dense habit, similar to those mentioned in the last paragraph, results. But it does not remain always such a shrub, for in due course its upper part will grow into a tree, with erect branches and large leaves.
Sow the seed of Sophora grandiflora. Again comes the small, erect plant; but this is succeeded by no shrubby, dense form: the young plant continues its development without noticeable change until it is fully grown into a tree. Finally, sow seed of Sophora prostrata. Again the upright early seedling appears, then the juvenile shrubby stage, as in S. microphylla; but this time it never develops into a tree, but has this shrub stage as its adult form. Finally, without going into further details, there are about two hundred New Zealand plants which have adult forms differing considerably from the juvenile, many of which can, when fully grown, revert to the early form.
Now, it is held by certain biologists than an organism in its individual development passes, more or less completely, through the stages assumed by the species at various times during its past evolutionary history. If this is so, then juvenile stages represent ancestral stages, and such a plant as the seedling whipcord veronica, with leaves of the above-mentioned experiment, is the ancestor of the present river-terrace V. cupressoides, artificially brought back into the world, and kept so long as the moist-air treatment continues. This treatment, too, shows that the ancestral plant lived in a much moister climate than is New Zealand at the present time. The behaviour of Sophora, too, throws some light on the matter. The very earliest stage would be the ancestral form; but as this is the same in both S. grandiflora and S. microphylla, the former is ancestral from beginning to end of its development, whereas the latter, in its middle stage, exactly resembles S. prostrata.
All this points out that there came a period of drought in New Zealand, or of a climate requiring drought-resisting adaptations. Then certain adaptations against excessive dryness came into being, as in the cases of the shrubby form of Sophora and the adult of Veronica cupressoides. On a more recent change to a wetter climate some individuals of the former genus would grow out of this drought-resisting form, others would remain unchanged; but in the case of the veronica no reversion has taken place, but the "ancestral form" still remains latent.
General remarks—Adaptations of coastal plants—Physical and physiological dryness—Plants of sandy and rocky shores—Seaweeds—Sandhills—Reclamation of dunes—The wonderful mangrove—Coastal shrubberies—A natural post-card—The coastal veronica—Vegetation of rocks and cliffs—Salt meadows and salt marshes—
A coast-line between four and five thousand miles in length, extending from nearly the latitude of
Latitude being left out of the question, in all parts of the world coastal vegetation, both in its form and distribution, depends upon certain factors. Of these, salt in the soil and exposure to sea-spray and violent winds are of prime importance. Wherever they occur, genuine seaside plants have various features in common. The most important of these are contrivances to regulate the water-supply, the commonest of which is succulence of leaf and stem, one or both. This succulence is caused by the presence of special tissues which serve for water-storage. Many New Zealand coastal plants exhibit this feature. The ice-plant (Mesembryanthemum australe, pig's-face, horokaka), which so frequently drapes the coastal cliffs M. edule), a native of Salicornia australis (fig. 26), a stem-succulent common in salt meadows, and
Succulence has been shown experimentally to be brought about by excess of salt in the soil, and certain plants to which salt is not a deadly poison can be made artificially succulent. Some of the introduced plants of this country, as, e.g., the spotted catchfly (Silene anglica, var. quinquevulnera), acquire much fatter leaves when growing near the sea than inland.
That plants growing in wet stations, such as salt meadows and marshes, should be furnished with appliances to combat drought appears very remarkable. The truth seems to be that for some reason not yet sufficiently explained, although many theories are rife, the plant dare not, use too much brackish water, and so is actually in the same position as a plant of a desert region. When dealing with the bog vegetation it will be seen that it, too, is in a similar condition, and so is that in the neighbourhood of solfataias and the like.
Schimper has summed up these conditions in an excellent manner, pointing out that two kinds of dryness exist. These he has named "physical" and "physiological." Physical dryness arises from want of water in the soil, but a physiologically dry soil may contain any amount of water, but yet of such a quality that its plant inhabitants cannot use it. To quote a common example, the sea is physiologically dry, so far as man is concerned. Physiological dryness alone concerns plant-distribution.
Sandy shores are common enough on the New Zealand coast; and as these, when sufficiently firm, are patronised as playgrounds for our children and ourselves, something as to their plants may be of interest. Such, a shore may sometimes be quite without plants, except for the remains of seaweeds which mark the high-tide limit. Where the shore is sheltered, the shore convolvulus (Calystegia Soldanetta) (fig. 27), with its, lilac-striped flowers, is often present. Here, too, is the home of the tiny buttercup ( Ranunculus acaulis), its leaves of three small succulent leaflets flat on the sand, and its little yellow flower buried right up to its neck. The New Zealand spinach (
Gravelly and rocky shores are richer in plant-life than sandy ones, since they are much more stable. On them in some places a dock ( Rumex neglectus) is common. This has a rather stout creeping stem, which enables the plant to make considerable patches on the gravelly shore, where it grows far more luxuriantly than on the peaty ground which it also inhabits. On the stony shore of
Where rocks jut out into the sea, forming pools, there the beautiful red seaweeds have their home; but where the sea dashes with fury, the huge brown ones are found. As two of these are so frequently cast up on the shore, they, at any rate, must be known to most who are acquainted with the seaside. The one (Macrocystis Dubenii) grows to an immense size, and its leaves float upon the surface of the sea by means of their small bladders full of air, while, dozens of feet below, the cord-like stems are anchored firmly to the rocky floor of the ocean. The other (D'Urvillaea utilis) is found in rougher water, its stouter stem showing a honeycomb-like structure when cut into. D'Urvillaea gets its name from the
In the calm waters of the
On many parts of the coast, sand is continually being brought on to the shore by the advancing waves. In the neighbourhood of high-water mark the shore soon becomes dry, and the sand is then borne landwards by any wind coming from the sea. Where the sand accumulates faster than it is blown away, a hill, or dune as it is frequently called, is formed. Any obstacle in the path, of the blown sand will also arrest its progress and cause its heaping-up. The dunes of New Zealand are of great extent, and occupy an area of more than three hundred thousand acres. In some parts of the coast the belt of dunes is more than six miles in width, and in the north of the
Frequently the dunes are very unstable, and in some places so much so that great areas of moving sand exist. These "wandering
In order that a plant can live on drifting sand it must have the power of binding that unstable compound into a firm mass. Plants
with rapidly growing underground stems, which have the power of rooting near the tips of the branches and putting forth new shoots as fast as the old ones are buried, are sand-binding plants par excellence. With - few exceptions, wherever sandhills exist on the globe, such plants accompany them.
In New Zealand there is a most excellent example in the pingao (Scirpus frondosus) (fig. 29). Its thick, rope-like stems, commonly called roots, form a perfect entanglement inside the dune, and its
The spiny rolling-grass (Spinifex hirsutus), a native of S. hirsutus naturally builds up fairly stable dunes which in some places have a surface so even as to look like a railway-embankment (fig. 30), as in the case of the dune fronting the shore near
In Europe, America, and elsewhere plants and grazing animals assumed their present forms side by side. The marram-grass of Europe ( Ammophila arenaria) is a case in point. This, although naturally
little better as a sand-binder than our
Besides grasses, trees and shrubs are of great service for sand-fixing. Of the latter, the tree-lupin of Lupinus arboreus) is a.
Where the dunes are more stable, other special "sand-plants" are common. Of these, Coprosma acerosa (fig. 31), with wiry, reddish-coloured, interlacing twigs, is found everywhere; and so, too, is
Where the force of the wind is less felt, a heath may make its appearance, and the manuka ( Leptospermum scoparium), the cabbage-tree (
Hollows in the dune region are very frequent, the sand being blown away until the ground-water is almost reached. Where the water cannot get away there will be swamps and even shallow lakes.
In sandy hollows the pioneer plant is a creeping-sedge ( Carex pumila), which soon builds miniature dunes. The sand-gunnera (
Let us leave the dunes, and, in imagination, sail up one of those wide estuaries in the west of the Avicennia officinalis), and the sight is one almost unknown in any other land outside the tropics. It is, in fact, one of the natural wonders of New Zealand.
Now, quite undeservedly, the mangrove has got a bad reputation. A mangrove swamp is supposed to represent all that is most hideous on earth—alligators in crowds, a fearsome odour, crabs waiting to pick such of the victim's bones as are left by the alligators, malaria, and deadly microbes in vast abundance. Even in the tropics this picture has been shown to be absurd, and in New Zealand the mangrove belt is quite a pleasing feature of the northern rivers. It is also a most beneficial plant, as it materially assists in turning muddy useless shores into good dry land.
Moreover, the mangrove is one of the most noteworthy plants in nature. As our boat proceeds up the river the tide has turned, and the slimy flats, where the mangrove is rooted, come into view. There, projecting out of the mud, are thousands of upright bodies, 6 in. or so in length, looking much like stout asparagus-shoots. One might feel sure these were young mangroves. But they are nothing of the sort, strange as it may seem. They are roots, which, instead of passing downwards to anchor the trees, grow upwards into the air. On being examined, they are found to consist largely of a very porous tissue. Plants, like animals, cannot live without oxygen. They need to breathe just as much as we human beings do; without air they would die of suffocation. In the soft mud is little of the life-giving gas hence the necessity for the mangrove to obtain a supply for its ordinary roots. This it does with these erect organs, which are the veritable lungs of the tree. Of course, the aerial parts of the mangrove, like those of any other tree, procure oxygen by means of the small pores in the leaves and minute openings in their bark.
The mangrove, too, has another peculiarity of even greater interest than that just described. If a seed were to fall on the muddy floor of a tidal estuary, being washed hither and thither by the ebb and The seed leaves are green, and so they supply the growing plant with additional food-material of their own manufacture.
The beautiful inlets of Metrosideros lucida), its boughs almost dipping into the water, has burst into flaming crimson. In similar situations the inuka ( Dracophyllum longifolium) and the smaller New Zealand flax (
Where the coastal scrub of Senecio rotundifolius) (fig. 33), which makes an excellent garden plant even as far north as
In the Olearia operina,
Veronica elliptica, the coastal shrubby veronica, mentioned above, deserves a few words. In the first place, it is one of our South American connections. When fairly sheltered it is a fine upright-growing shrub, covered closely on its outer twigs with rather thick palish-green small leaves. Like all the other veronicas, its flowers have only two stamens. The corolla is at first bright purple, but soon fades to white. The scent of the flowers is delicious. It is abundant in the
Metrosideros tomentosa, the well-known pohutukawa, the Christmas-tree of which the Aucklanders are justly proud, was formerly much more abundant than at present. It grows frequently on the faces of cliffs, stretching outwards over the oyster-covered rocky shore. Some of its roots are fixed in the solid rock, and creep for long distances over the surface—a most remarkable sight—while others Pittosporum crassifolium), P. umbellatum, and the whau ( Entelea arborescens).On the trunks of the pohutukawa the perching-lily (
The coastal cliffs of east Marlborough in due season become scenes of great floral beauty. Here the rather straggling shrub Olearia insignis has its home. Its large, thick, and very leathery leaves, buff on the under-surface, and its fine flower-heads, render it a conspicuous object. How a plant in such a position, growing as it does
Some adventurous flower On savage crag-side grown Seems nourished hour by hour From its wild self alone.
Growing in company with O. insignis is Phormium Cookianum, its leaves drooping from the cliff; the delightful
The only member of the gourd family in New Zealand is at the present time quite rare on the mainland, and it may be best seen on some of the outlying islands of the north. On the Little Barrier, at the foot of the cliffs, it is abundant, scrambling over the kawa-kawa ( Macropiper excelsum), or ascending to the topmost branches of the pohutukawas.
Certain ferns are peculiar to the coast, and are frequent on the cliffs. The most widely spread is the sea-spleenwort (Asplenium obtusatum).The coastal hard-fern (Blechnum durum) occurs only in the southern part of the
Along the banks of tidal rivers and estuaries there is frequently low ground covered at flood tide with brackish water, or, where higher, subject merely to a periodical submerging. Of both such situations the covering is fairly uniform throughout New Zealand. Colonies of rush-like plants form the bulk of the vegetation. The most striking is the rush-like Leptocarpus simplex, whose stiff, reddish, jointed stems, a yard or more tall, render it very conspicuous. It belongs to a family (Restionaceae) confined almost entirely to Juncus maritimus, var. australiensis) is also very common, but it has not been found south of Plagianthus divaricalus), a shrub of a dense habit, and made up of slender, wiry, dark-coloured interlacing twigs covered
On the drier ground of the salt meadow are a number of creeping, turf-making plants, mostly with long roots and small thick leaves. The chief of these are Samolus repens, a white-flowered plant of the primrose family, but not a bit like a primrose;
Where the water cannot get away, and the ground is never dry, and uncovered only at low tide, will be found a salt marsh. In the wettest places colonies of the great bulrush (Scirpus lacustris) will be present, but only where the water is not too salt. More salt-enduring is the smaller Scirpus maritimus. Leptocarpus simplex will generally be the dominant plant, and will cover many acres to the exclusion of all else. A sedge, Car ex litorosa, is peculiar to the salt marsh. Many of the plants mentioned above also occur, specially Juncus maritimus. These salt-marsh plants are of considerable economic importance, as they help to build up solid ground in estuaries, and also to maintain the banks of tidal rivers.
The small islands near the coast are of extreme botanical interest, and sometimes of great beauty. Some are quite in their virgin condition, while others have been changed by man, especially where the lighthouse-keepers lead their solitary lives.
On ( Dysoxylum spectabile), Paratrophis opaca, Macropiper excelsum, and
(Freycinetia Banksii), almost the last survivor of a forest which must have clothed these islands long ago, when connected with the mainland of Meryta Sinclairii).
Only a brief reference can be made to the Poor Knights, recently visited for the first time by Placostylis Hongii, is still abundant, and where the arborescent vegetation consists largely of Suttonia divaricata, an unexpected plant. Nor can the coastal meadows of Southland, white with gentian and eyebright, be described, nor the cliff vegetation of the Nuggets, where an alpine celmisia clothes the barren rock; nor many other charming spots, lapped by the many-voiced ocean. Sufficient, however, has been said to show that we need not climb into the clouds to find our wild flowers, and that those who are wont to take their pleasure sadly by the seashore may find there a field of new interest.
European contrasted with New Zealand meadows—The meadows of the Dominion—How meadows are formed by nature—Valuable indigenous grasses—Flowers of the lowland pastures—The mountain meadows— Colours of the alpine flowers—Buttercups, ourisias, yellow forget-me-nots— An alpine desert—Drought-resisting contrivances—Peat-forming plants.
Plant-geographically our " meadows " really belong to different biological categories, such as steppe, fell-field, &c.; but, as these terms are by no means clearly defined, I still use the term " meadow," as in my writings in general.
When the early settlers reached their, antipodean home they must have been struck by the absence of green fields gay with buttercups, daisies, cuckoo-flowers, coltsfoot, and oxeyes, and would have laughed at the idea of New Zealand meadows. To many, even yet, it may seem absurd to compare the tussock slopes with the emerald hillsides of Britain. As for wild flowers, there are some who remember regretfully those of the Motherland, and lament that their adopted home has nothing to offer in exchange for the cowslips, primroses, anemones, bluebells, and heather of their youthful days.
Be all this as it may, New Zealand has plenty of natural meadows in a plant-geographical sense, if not in that of our boyhood. For those who will seek them, too, it has also wild flowers that can vie in beauty with those of any other region.
Natural meadows are a distinct expression of climate and soil, and, as stated in the first chapter, forest would cover the whole land were there no inhibitory circumstances. Such, however, exist, the most important being altitude, the nature of the soil, and climatic influences, especially constant wind. The tussock meadows of the
In the wet districts meadows are lacking, except on the high mountains In the drier parts, such as eastern Hawke's Bay, eastern and central Otago, and the
Besides the meadow lands just mentioned, there are in the Dominion many others where the fields are green enough, and where, at any rate, buttercups, daisies, and oxeyes are not absent, much to the regret of the farmer. But such fields are quite artificial, and afford
merely examples of the changes wrought by man—changes which he accomplished long ago in the
A very common feature of many parts of New Zealand, especially in the mountainous regions, is a broad, shingly river-bed, bounded on either side by high terraces, or sometimes filling up a narrow valley. The water of these rivers is not usually confined to one channel, but meanders in several narrow streams over the wide stony bed, which in consequence is in places quite dry, and ready for plant-colonists. These are not slow to avail themselves of the chance to "take up land," and engage the wind or the birds to convey them to their new holdings, while some even travel by water.
Amongst the earliest settlers are the willow-herbs (Epilobium), thanks to their light seeds furnished each with a tuft of hairs. Various species of Raoulia come in a similar manner, and large, round, mosslike cushions or patches of silver and green result ( Raoulia australis, R. tenuicaulis, R. Haastii). Lichens cover the stones with curious markings, and mosses spring up between them. As these earlier plants decay, humus is added to the silty, sandy soil, and various drought-resisting shrubs
This remark has no bearing on the question of very ancient totara forests, whose presence is suggested, as
The tussock meadows of the montane regions and, the plains are of great commercial importance. They are, in fact, the home of those vast flocks and herds on which the prosperity of the Dominion so largely depends. The study of their plants is therefore of high economic interest.
Foremost come the grasses, replaced, now in so many cases by those of Europe, and by the host of introduced weeds. Some of these indigenous grasses are most valuable for stock. The tussocks belong especially to two species—Poa caespitosa and Festuca rubra. As a food for stock the poa is not of much moment, but Festuca rubra is of considerable value. The blue-tussock (Poa Colensoi) forms much smaller tussocks than either of the above, and is a most valuable economic grass. Another grass of great importance is the blue-grass
On the lower meadows certain plants with more or less conspicuous flowers are to be met with. Here are some of the buttercups (), the slender bluebell
To see the really fine displays of flowers which New Zealand can offer, one must seek the high mountains in the summer-time. Here the meadows are true natural gardens. But to view such in full perfection, those places must be visited to which no grazing animals have had access.
The real subalpine and alpine meadow flora begins on the mountains near the Helichrysum coralloides (the stout stems with closely pressed woolly white leaves looking not unlike coral, hence the name) and a veronica growing on the face of solid rocks (V. rupicola) may be mentioned. Proceeding southwards, we find that the Alps of e.g., Ranunculus Godleyanus, Helichrysum pauciflorum, Myosotis decora.
The Veronica Hectori, Celmisia Pelriei, Aciphylla simplex, Ranunculus Matthewsii,&c. Finally,
These high mountain meadows are by no means closely growing associations of plants. On the contrary, these latter are generally in clumps, or dotted about, the ground between being quite bare, and the amount of bareness is governed by the rainfall. Thus, where the latter is great and the number of rainy days excessive, there is little bare ground except on the steepest slopes and near the mountain-tops, while on the mountains of (Danthonia pungens), with extremely rigid and sharp-pointed leaves (fig. 39).
If a foreign botanist, conversant with the alpine plants of other regions, were to visit a high mountain meadow in New Zealand, he would be amazed at the prevalence of white and yellow flowers, and the almost entire lack of reds and blues. His eye would encounter no blue gentians, no pink primulas. He would be much less surprised at seeing plant forms very similar to those of other alpine regions, yet bearing flowers quite different from his old acquaintances—i.e., belonging to other families. This latter fact he would find an admirable illustration of the phenomenon that similar conditions evoke or preserve similar life-forms even in regions widely remote. As for the prevalence of white and yellow flowers, he would possibly have no suggestion of any moment to offer beyond that the white might be adapted for fertilisation at night-time by moths, and that yellow is a most frequent colour amongst flowers everywhere.
But if there is some monotony as far as the colour of our alpine flowers goes, there is none in regard to their form. The herbaceous plants, of the European Alps in many instances die to the ground yearly, whereas those of New Zealand are mostly evergreen. The spear-grasses (Aciphylla) are of the Yucca form. Some are frequently cultivated in European gardens, but others still more handsome are unknown there. Aciphylla Colensoi, var.
The eyebrights (Euphrasia) are real alpine gems. Euphrasia Monroi has rather big flowers, considering the size of the plant, white with a yellow eye (fig. 40); E. Cockayniana is yellow. The mountain E. cuneata, its large flower white with a yellow throat and marked with purple lines, is a most beautiful feature of E. Cheesemanii and E. zealandica. The eyebrights are in part parasites, living attached to the roots of grasses. This habit renders them exceedingly difficult to cultivate.
To Ourisia, a genus belonging exclusively to Ourisia macrophylla of the 0. macrocarpa of the South, are the tallest of the New Zealand species, and exceedingly handsome plants. O. Cockayniana looks rather like a stunted form of the latter, and forms large patches on the wetter mountains of O. caespitosa, creeping over stony ground, is in early summer a sheet of lovely blossoms. Also very beautiful are O. sessiliflora, 0. glandulosa, and O. prorepens.
"Eyes blue as the blue forget-me-not," sings Myosotis australis, M. Traversii,
Of all the plants the buttercups most deserve mention. Of these there are quite a number, and they are far and away the finest Ranunculus Lyallii) is their queen. This world-famed plant raises great leaves from its very thick root-stock, each with a blade shaped like a saucer, sometimes more than 9 in. in diameter, and a stout stalk a foot or more in height, inserted in the middle of the blade, and lifting it high from the ground.
Excepting in the smaller
Generic names are frequently hideous, but in Celmisia we have one dainty enough to take a foremost place among those feminine floral appellations now so popular. And well does a race of plants so beautiful deserve a fitting title. On every mountain-side at all seasons it is the celmisias (figs. 43 and 44) that give the characteristic stamp to the meadows, filling the air with aromatic fragrance, and delighting the eye with their beauty of form or abundance of flowers. With one Celmisia sessiliflora and C. argentea (fig. 45). The most handsome of the celmisias is perhaps C. coriacea, a plant with large, stiff, silvery leaves, and flower-heads several inches in diameter.
Senecio scorzonerioides, notwithstanding its being burdened with its second name, is one of the most showy of New Zealand plants. The author will never forget the meadows near the source of the River
Frequently the meadow is dotted with veronicas and other shrubs. Large breadths of an alpine Astelia are often present, also tall tussock-grasses such as Danthonia Raoulii and D. flavescens.
The rocks of the alpine summits weathering away, and the rain not being sufficient to bear all the débris into the valleys, an enormous quantity of angular stones collects on the mountain-sides in many places, which may form steep slopes for thousands of feet. As the traveller wearily ascends these "shingle-slips," as they are called, the stones constantly slip beneath his tread, and slide down the slope. Numerous large grasshoppers, grey as the shingle, leap from beneath his feet, an occasional black butterfly flits through the air or rests upon a rock, while overhead may fly screaming that famous bird the kea. All is a scene of utter desolation: it is, in truth, an alpine desert. Yet many of the meadows must have begun their career as shingle-slips, and all transitions may be noted from the one to the other.
To the shingle-slip proper belongs a most peculiar series of plants. They have several characteristics in common. All have long roots and are low-growing. Many are succulent. Most are of a colour similar to the shingle. Some have leaves of rather an indiarubber like texture, and one, at any rate, is covered with an exceedingly woolly mass of hairs. These shingle-slips become burning hot in the sunshine, and yet in the evening of the same day may be icy cold. At some distance below the surface the stones are wet. Here are a few of the plants to be found in such situations: A. stiff-leaved grass (Poa sclerophylla); a buttercup (Ranunculus Haastii); a plant of the carrot family (
On the shingle-slips the wonderful vegetable-sheep are encountered. These grow not on the shingle, but on the rocks which the stones have nearly buried. Large examples form great hummocks, 6 ft. long by 3 ft. across, or even more. Really they are shrubs of the daisy family, and are provided with a thick, stout, woody main stem and strong roots, which pass far into the rock-crevices. Haastia pulvinaris and Raoulia eximia; but there are other smaller ones—e.g., R. bryoides and R. Goyeni, this latter of the
Closely related, to the shingle-slips, so far as the conditions for plant-life go, are the scoria-slopes of the volcanoes of the central plateau of the Claytonia australasica, which, strange to say, is also a plant found in shallow running water, all the Veronica spathulata. which possesses a root of enormous length, small succulent leaves close to the cinders, and in summer is altogether covered with multitudes of snow-white flowers, which quite hide the foliage (fig. 49).
Another veronica forms large mats, chiefly in the shelter of rocks ( V. HooKeriana).It also is very pretty with its lilac flowers raised on moderate-sized stalks above the foliage. But the plant
Finally, the New Zealand, edelweiss must be mentioned, of which there are two species, Helichrysum grandiceps and H. Leontopodium. Both are exquisite, and surpass their celebrated. Swiss namesake,
High mountain plants live under conditions considerably different from those of the lower country. The climate is much colder, many are buried beneath a great depth of snow for several months, and all are subjected to frost at any period of the year. The atmosphere is more rarified than, at lower levels, and this leads to stronger and more active sunlight, and to a more rapid loss of water from the leaves of the plants. Although the mountain climate is a wet one, yet when the sun is shining and the sky clear the plants are exposed to danger of damage from a too rapid loss of water. Nor are several Dacrydium, to which belong several lofty forest-trees, amongst others the rimu, is represented in the New Zealand mountains by a creeping-plant which grows at times so densely as to form an actual turf or a cushion (fig. 52). Many plants have the form of cushions, and very beautiful are the rounded green cushions of
Roots of an extraordinary length form an excellent provision for obtaining an abundant water-supply at all seasons, and these are very frequent amongst the alpine plants. But, above all things, the leaf, in structure and form, shows drought-resisting contrivances. The most common of all is a mat of hairs on the under-surface of the leaf, so characteristic of the celmisias (fig. 43). Some, again, such as the Aciphyllas (spear-grasses), have extremely rigid, vertical leaves, which both resist the wind and can never receive the direct rays of the sun.
In this book the plants generally referred to Ligusticum are included in Aciphylla. In this sentence only Aciphylla in the more restricted sense is intended.
Perhaps the most interesting feature of the New Zealand alpine plants, and one which is not so well marked in the alpine plants of Europe, but is seen in those of the Andes, is the capability of one portion of the living plant to turn into peat, while its remaining part grows vigorously, and even uses its own dead self as food material. This habit is not specially in harmony with an alpine climate, but rather with absence of sunlight and prevalence of rain and mist—just such a climate as exists in the subantarctic islands to-day. Most of the celmisias are surrounded at the bases of their leaves by quite a thickness of rotting leaves, and the same may be seen in a very large percentage of the New Zealand alpine plants. Such an adaptation perhaps indicates that our alpine flora originated not on the high mountains at all, but in the sunless and wet regions of the south.
Scarcity of aquatic plants in New Zealand—Water-ferns—The red Azolla—The pond-weeds — The water-milfoils—Fresh-water algae—Vegetation of hot springs—Effect of plants on changing the land-surface—Swamp vegetation —The niggerhead—Economic importance of swamps—New Zealand hemp —Bogs and; bog-plants—Sphagnum and its peculiarities—Flesh-eating plants —A vegetable trap.
It has already been shown that in her forests, meadows, shores, and shrubberies New Zealand possesses plants which do not yield in beauty or interest to those of any other land. With her seaweeds, too, she is well able to hold her own. But when it comes to the fresh-water plants she must take a lower place. Rivers and lakes there are in plenty which offer first-class inducements for occupation by aquatic plants, but none of the more beautiful kinds have accepted the offer; in vain we look for water-lilies like those of the sister continent. Still, for all that, our waters are not without plant-life, some of which, from the biological standpoint, is interesting enough.
Take the case of the floating water-fern, Azolla rubra. The red masses of this curious plant, covering still pools so thickly that one might think them dry land, must be known to all. The outer surface of the leaves is covered with minute excrescences, so that they cannot be wetted, and, in consequence, drops of water frequently begem them, glittering in the sunlight like diamonds. An individual plant is quite small, and consists of a thin, much-branched stem, putting down roots into the water from its under-surface, and bearing overlapping leaves. Each leaf consists of two lobes, which, except on close examination, look like separate leaves. Each lobe is adapted for a totally different condition of life, so there is a distinct division of labour in the one leaf. The upper lobes are comparatively thick, provided with leaf-green, and are therefore food-producers, and they are never submerged. Each contains a large cavity full of slime,
To see other aquatic ferns the town-dweller must go much farther afield, visiting those solitary lakelets far in the mountainous region of the Isoetes alpinus), looking more like a tiny rush than a fern; and here, too, but in the deeper water and on a more muddy bottom, is the home of Pillularia novae-zealandiae, which also might easily be mistaken for a small rush. Some of the lakes in the I. Kirkii).Indeed, it is highly probable these plants are commoner than is generally supposed.
In most parts of New Zealand one may see, floating on the surface of slow-flowing rivers or calm sheets of water, the oval brown leaves of some species or other of pond-weed ( Found frequently in slightly brackish water.Potamogeton), the commonest of which is P. Cheesemannii. Besides the above leaves there are others which live always submerged, and which differ considerably from the floating ones. These submerged leaves are very thin, erect, more or less ribbon-shaped, and are also extremely numerous. Since there can be no danger of want of water, such leaves are entirely without any protection on that score; on the contrary, they are so constructed as to be able to absorb water over their whole surface just like the filmy ferns of Chapter III, and thereby secure at the same time the oxygen which it contains. Their ribbon-like shape is well adapted to withstand damage from the currents of water, while sufficient extent of leaf-surface is provided by increase in number of leaves. It is also an interesting fact that these submerged leaves are similar to the early seedling ones of the pond-weed, and that this particular shape of leaf is common even amongst the land members of that great division of plants to which Potamogeton belongs. Some of the pond-weeds also never produce floating leaves—e.g., Potamogeton ochreatus and P. pectinatus.
The water-milfoils (Myriophyllum) differ from the pond-weeds in that they have no floating leaves, but boldly raise their upper portions above the water-surface. They agree, however, in the fact that the aerial leaves differ from the submerged ones. This is the more interesting because no line of demarcation on the erect stem separates the two except the water-surface—that is to say, the same tissue can change its leaf-form according to change of outer circumstances. The water-milfoils are graceful, feathery - looking plants, with the leaves frequently given off, four or more, from the same height round the stem. The submerged leaves are cut into fine segments, a very common occurrence in many water-plants, whereas the aerial leaves are broader and much less cut. Some of the water-milfoils are bog-plants rather than aquatics—e.g., M. Votschii.
M. pedunculatum (in part) of
It is highly probable that all seed-bearing aquatic plants are descended from land plants, which took to the water through competition with rivals better suited than they to their original stations. This is no place to discuss this question, but it may be pointed out that some plants can live equally well on land and in water, and even do not mind being submerged. The water-starworts (Callitriche) are examples.
In many streams the native aquatic vegetation has been ousted by the introduced watercress or the American water-weed (Elodea canadensis).It is interesting to note how much the former varies in both leaf and flower when growing on dry ground by the sides of ditches. Both plants are noxious weeds, and it costs the country much money annually to keep open the watercourses where they flourish.
Rivers, ponds, lakes, stagnant pools, moist soil, and many other stations are the homes of the fresh-water algae, or the pond-scums, as one section may be popularly called. They very frequently form green, slimy masses on the surface of the water. Common forms consist of what look like very fine, long, green hairs. Under a fairly strong power of the miscroscope these are seen to consist of long tubes, divided by thin walls into compartments, which contain plant-green, sometimes in the form of bands.
The fresh-water algae are a very large family, and, although Chara, Nitella), and many others. In the hot springs of the
These hot-water algae are sometimes cited to show how living organisms could exist in the early days of the earth when cold water would be unknown, and how such organisms may have persisted since those distant ages, and they or their congeners be the ancestors of our present plant-life.
Between lakes, swamps, bogs, and meadows there is. a close connection. Sedges, raupo, rushes, and rush-like plants growing in the shallow water near the margin, of a small lake may in time, through their decay, turn that part into dry ground, and advance farther and farther until a water-surface is no longer visible, the whole having become a raupo or phormium swamp. From this, the transition to meadow land is, in many cases, only a matter of time.
The blocking of watercourses with aquatic plants can soon convert a meadow into a swamp. Even on shingly river-beds, swamps at various stages of growth may be observed, and toetoe grass, palmlilies, and phormium break the monotony of the scene.
Sinking of the land may bring about great changes in the plant societies, and remains of plant-life in bogs can teach much as to recent changes in the land-surface.
In the swamps in the neighbourhood of
A journey on any of the New Zealand main lines shows the traveller that swamps are a very common feature of the landscape, for they can be recognised at a glance by the dense growth of phormium or raupo (Typha angustifolia) and by those most curious plants, the niggerheads (Carex secta). Formerly, too, the scene was enlivened by that fine bird, the pukeko (Porphyrio melanotus), gay with red legs and bill and blue breast. Before the days of settlement these swamps were much more extensive, but some of those reported as being undrainable by-the early surveyors now bear rich crops of grain or "roots."
Besides the New Zealand flax ( Phormium tenax) and the raupo (
Swamps are of considerable economic importance in New Zealand. The manufacture of fibre from phormium— "New Zealand hemp," as it is now called—has become one of the staple industries of the Dominion. At present P. tenax is not cultivated, except for ornamental purposes, the wild supply being sufficient. But this will not last for ever. As the swamps are drained, the supply of flax diminishes. The old Maoris were experts in its manufacture, and recognised varieties much more suitable for their mats, &c., than the rank and file of the flax-plants. To such they gave special names. Now what the uninstructed Maori did could be performed much more thoroughly by
According as water varies in regard to the chemicals it holds in solution, so does it offer different stations for plant-life. Certain waters are rich in lime; in others this is wanting to a great extent, and acids are present instead. Therefore the presence of lime-rich or acidrich water sharply separates water-soaked ground into the two classes, swamps and bogs. Of course, transitions exist between these. In addition, the water of a bog is coffee-coloured, and contains a large quantity of organic matter. Those small plants called bacteria, which play such an important rôle in adding the all-important nitrogen-compounds (nitrates) to the soil, are also scarce in bogs.
At a glance, bog-vegetation can be distinguished from that of swamps. The bog - moss (species of Sphagnum) is nearly always present in the former, and forms rounded cushions and hillocks of a whitish colour, on which many of the bog-plants make their home. For-some unexplained reason bogs are physiologically dry, and consequently many of their plants must be protected against drought. It is with these unfortunates, indeed, a case of "water everywhere and not a drop to drink." Many bog-plants, owing to these adaptations, can exist excellently well in dry places. Phyllachne Colensoi,
Bogs occur both in the lowlands and mountains. They are common on the narrow peninsula of the far North, and also occupy much ground in Hypolaena lateriflora) being common in both localities. Many identical species occur in both lowland and alpine bogs, and those of
Sphagnum possesses some characteristics which distinguish it from most other mosses. Its stems at their periphery are provided with thin-walled capillary cells, stiffened by fibrous thickenings, and communicating with one another and with the exterior by round openings. Thus water is rapidly sucked in by the plant and stored up, while by the capillaries formed by the cells it can be conducted downwards to all parts of the plant. Although the surface on which the sphagnum grows may be extremely wet, but little water comes from below, and then only for a very short distance. Thus a sphagnum bog is altogether dependent on the rainfall, and can only exist where this is abundant, an excessive precipitation allowing the plant to occupy even a rock-surface. As the upper portion of a sphagnum cushion grows, its lower part dies, and is converted into peat, great masses of which frequently accumulate. Such peat is used for fuel in many parts of the world, and at Waipahi, in Southland, is cut for that purpose to some extent, though such New Zealand peat is generally formed by many other plants in addition to sphagnum, or this latter may be altogether wanting. The upper surface of a sphagnum bog continues to rise in height, and any plants growing thereon must, like dune vegetation, be able to grow upwards faster than they are buried. The small pine, Dacrydium Bidwillii, common on subalpine bogs, is frequently buried by the too rapid growth of the moss, and may be observed in all stages of burial. On the sphagnum cushions themselves many plants will grow, owing to the absorption of pure water, which cannot live on sour peat itself.
Where a mountain-stream on flattish ground is unable to take away all the water, an excess accumulates, and a bog is formed. In such places shallow pools are frequent, between which are the sphagnum hummocks. Here is the home of another cushion-plant, much resembling Phyllachne, Donatia novae-zealandiæ, and a sedge of similar habit, with leaves arranged like a comb, Oreobolus pectinatus. Other plants occur in plenty—
Bogs occur even on the scoria of the central plateau of the Liparophyllum Gunnii), which has a very thick creeping stem and profusion of tiny white star-like blossoms. It may be pointed out that this plant is the sole species of the genus, which is found only in this country and
Very characteristic of bogs are the sundews (Drosera), and they deserve, at any rate, a passing word. As shown above, the bog-water lacks available nitrogen. The small, spoonlike leaves of the sundews are provided with glandular hairs, at the end of which a shining drop of fluid may usually be seen. This contains a substance which has the power of acting on animal matter in much the same manner as the gastric juice. Should a small insect alight on a drosera D. auriculata is a plant of the heath, and climbs over grass-stems, &c. D. pygmaea has a remarkable distribution, having so far been found only at the two extremes of New Zealand—viz., on the
Species of the genus Gunnera are frequent in lowland bogs. Those near G. prorepens. The New Zealand species are quite small—mere pygmies, indeed, in comparison with their huge-leaved Chilian relation (G. chilensis). But, notwith-standing this, both equally afford house-room to a species of Nostoc, a fresh-water alga, somewhat after the manner of Azolla before described. Perhaps the prettiest denizen of the bogs is the pale-blue liliaceous Herpolirion novae-zealandiae, which, when not in flower, may be mistaken for a grass. A companion plant is
The bog umbrella-fern ( Gleichenia dicarpa) frequently occupies large areas of boggy ground, its pale-green leaves and brown stems rendering it very conspicuous. A creeping club-moss (
Before leaving the bogs, another flesh-eater must be mentioned, the bladderwort (Utricularia monanthos), a plant with small, showy, purple flowers. The bladderworts are quite without true roots, metamorphosed leaves functioning as such. In some instances the leaves develop in another abnormal way: they construct themselves into small bladders, which are furnished with a lid, which can open only from without inwards. This leads to an arrangement like that of certain mouse-traps, so that a minute aquatic animal may easily enter the bladder, whence it cannot escape, and so is digested in due course by the plant.
A goblin forest—The ancient forest of Antarctica—A seashore cushion-plant—Finest floral display outside the tropics—Giant tussocks—Young albatroses —
Lands of mist and sleet and hail, of fierce squalls born in the icy south; cruel, rock-bound coasts, scenes of brave men's death, or of fierce struggles with the angry sea; lands of brown hills, enclosed by thick woods, weird and grotesque—in very truth goblin forests, patrolled and sentinelled by uncouth monsters of the deep: such impression may our far-off subantarctic islands give at first.
A closer view, and scenes more pleasing greet the traveller. Despite the ever-present gales, fields of magnificent flowers clothe the hills in summer-time. Within the forest, beneath the thick entanglement of gnarled and twisted branches of the trees, multitudes of ferns spread out their feathery fronds into the dim light. The knotted trunks, the fallen trees, the uneven ground, all are thickly covered with a mantle most delicate of translucent filmy ferns. Mounds of exquisite liverworts of many species adorn both forest-floor and boles of trees. Thickets of shrubs abound. All is one close mass of vegetation, save where long, bare paths of dark peat lead from the dim recesses of the forest, along which a startled sea-lion may glide, fearful of the intruder, or one at bay greet him with angry roar and open jaws.
It is in the
The forest of the Metrosideros lucida).The other associated trees and shrubs are the haumakoroa (Nothopanax simplex), the evilsmelling karamu ( Coprosma foetidissima), the inaka (
In some few parts of these subantarctic islands—namely, on Olearia Lyallii), found only in these islands, but closely related to
On the Snares, mixed with O. Lyallii, is the rare and beautiful small tree, one of the shrubby groundsels (
Some of the seashore plants are very wonderful. Here, almost to high-water mark, comes a splendid tussock-grass, Poa foliosa, with broad green leaves. On the rocks, almost where the sea washes, Coldbanthus muscoides, hard as those of the vegetable-sheep; and near by will be frequently seen the shining green rosettes of a species of plantain (Plantago carnosa?). Close by, where the kelp heaves on the restless waters, swims, quite fearless of man, as it has done for ages, the little flightless duck. From the cliffs droop green draperies of a most strange pale-green, soft-leaved grass (Poa ramosissima), while their summits are crowned with the sweet-scented Veronica elliptica. On the flat rocks beneath stands, sentinel-like, the
The herbaceous plants are the special glory of the islands. Pleurophyllum speciosum), the genus being purely subantarctic, though related to the asters of gardens. The leaves are of great size, and all are corrugated. In colour and general appearance they somewhat resemble pale-green velvet or plush, and they are so arranged at times as to look like shallow goblets. These are striking enough; but when the beautiful purple flower-heads are raised high above the leaves, dozens at a time, side by side, the spectacle is magnificent. There are perhaps three other species of the same family. One ( P. Hookeri), with silvery leaves just tinged with green, dotting the upland meadows as far as the eye can reach, is a charming-enough sight. But how intensified is the beauty when there are present in large numbers, and also in full bloom, a fine yellow buttercup (
The tussocks tank with the forest and the meadow as an astonishing feature of these islands. Their habit is that of the niggerhead described in Chapter VII. On
Although Azorella Sclago, the Fuegian rival of our vegetable-sheep.
The Snares, the nearest to Aciphylla and a species of Stilbocarpa not found elsewhere. They form, as might be expected, a connecting-link with
Disappointment Island, in the Acaena Sanguisorbae, var.
There yet remain for mention the The photo represents a penguin colony on the Snares, not on the Bounties; but the general effect is similar.
At a distance of about five hundred miles from the coast of New Zealand, and almost due east from Pseudopanax crassifolium nor P. ferox —it is P. chathamica; the koromiko is not Veronica salicifolia —it is V. gigantea; while the korokia is named Corokia macrocarpa, and in its larger fruit and broader leaves is distinct from C. buddleoides of the
The commonest of the forest-trees is the karaka, here called kopi (Corynocarpus laevigata), whose smooth bark was frequently adorned with a figure of a three-fingered man by the Suttonia chathamica), the mahoe (Hymenanthera chathamica), an indigenous daisy-tree ( Olearia. Traversii, akeake) the tree-karamu (
There is no shrubby undergrowth in the forest, but tree-ferns and ferns of all kinds are very abundant. The only lianes are the supple-jack, the climbing-convolvulus ( Calystegia tuguriorum), and
The despair of the settler and the delight of the flower-lover are the very numerous bogs of the Olearia semidentata), a truly lovely shrub in every respect (fig. 57). Covered in the summer-time with flower-heads of the most intense purple, these olearia shrubberies are an entrancing spectacle.
In the neighbourhood of these olearia bogs the margin of the forest often consists entirely of the rautini (Senecio Huntii), a
On the dry open ground a heath society occurs, in which the rounded bushes, of Styphelia robusta (fig. 58), covered in the autumn with white or red "berries," are conspicuous. Here, too, is the Australian Styphelia Richei, which has recently been discovered also in New Zealand proper.
The most famous of all the Myosotidium nobile) (fig. 1), frequently called by the absurd name of
Other interesting Cotula Featherstonii), which grows only near the holes of the petrels; the shrubby speedwells, Veronica Dieftenbachii,
Settlement has in many places quite changed the face of the country. In some places are fine grass paddocks, in others the bracken-fern and the piripiri ( Acaena novae-zealandiae) have become weeds.
Science is especially indebted to Recently, Mr.
From the subantarctic islands to the subtropical Kermadecs is a long step, and, yet the dominant tree in the latter is also a Metrosideros (M. villosa), a relation, however, of the pohutukawa and not of the southern rata. But with this the similarity between the two regions ends, except that both are of volcanic origin; and there is no more outward resemblance between the plant-forms than there is between the climates.
As seen from the sea, there is nothing in the appearance of the plant-covering of the Kermadecs to recall the tropics. No feathery cocoanut-palms fringe the shore. On the contrary, the rather dull hue of the New Zealand foliage, as seen from a distance, is everywhere manifest.
A certain number of tropical plants have reached the Kermadecs, but nothing like what might be expected. Amongst these are According to Oliver this is not indigenous.Ipomaea pes-caprae (which forms the well-known plant society on so many tropical shores), Canavalia obtusifolia (a climbing leguminous plant), Ageratum conyxioides (which bears the name of cherry-pie, or wild heliotrope), Aleurites moluccana
Certain plants are peculiar to the group. Amongst these are two coprosmas, C. petiolata and C. acutifolia, the former closely related to C. chathamica, of Suttonia kermadecensis, related to a Homalanthus polyandrus, a tree of the spurge family; and two fine tree-ferns, Cyathea Milnei and one discovered by Oliver and named by him C. kermadecensis.
But the rank and file of the plants are such as would be met with in the Melicope ternata), mahoe, tutu, ivy-tree (
According to Oliver there are 114 species, which belong to 88 genera and 42 families.
Plant colonists—Origin of the naturalised, plants—Method of arrival—Statistics —Distribution—Definition of term "weed" —Origin of weeds—Bracken, manuka, and piripiri as weeds—Weeds and human beings—The horned poppy and marram-grass—History of a pasture—Microscopic weeds—A
In the preceding chapters only the native plants, the true New Zealand, aborigines, have been considered. But, besides these, a host of foreigners—of colonists, if you will—have overrun the land. These have not merely settled down side by side with their antipodean relatives, but in not a few instances have driven them from the soil. That characteristic stamp which the native vegetation gives to the New Zealand landscape has frequently disappeared, and another— almost English in appearance—has come in its stead- Newcomers from the Motherland look in vain near most of the cities for any sign of a foreign land, and, judging from the plant-covering alone, might well believe themselves back in Britain. A full account of this plant colonisation and of the bitter struggle between the invaders and indigenous species would be an important contribution to science; but it can never be written, since records as to the arrival of most of the plants or their wanderings in their new home are wanting. Here only certain general principles can be touched upon and, a few illustrative details cited.
Already so widely spread and so abundant are many of the species that a beginner in the study of the New Zealand flora could not possibly tell amongst the specimens he might collect which were indigenous and which introduced. Even experts cannot agree as to the nativity of certain species, and discussions have taken place, as in the case of the wireweed ( Polygonum aviculare).
The naturalised plants have come from many lands, but by far the greater part are, as in the analogous case of the human colonists, Such species are not confined to the
Moreover, the species here under discussion, leaving out of consideration for the present the non-flowering plants, are a most varied assemblage, since they belong to no fewer than sixty-six families and 287 genera. Certain of these families are not represented in the indigenous flora—e.g., the poppy family (Papaveraceae), the mignonette family (Resedaceae), the valerian family (Valerianaceae), the teasel family (Dipsaceae), and some others. Most numerous of all, as might perhaps be expected, are the grasses (eighty-one species), which surpass in number even the great composite family (seventy species). Then come the pea family (Leguminosae, forty-nine species) and the cress family (Cruciferae, thirty-six species). Other fairly large families are those of the pink (Caryophyllaceae, twenty-six species), sage (Labiatae, twenty species), dock (Polygonaceae, fourteen species), buttercup (Ranunculaceae, thirteen species), rose (Rosaceae, fifteen species), potato (Solanaceae, thirteen species), carrot (Umbelliferae, twelve species), figwort (Scrophularinaceae, eighteen species), poppy (Papaveraceae, ten species), and borage (Boraginaceae, ten species). On the other hand, some families are represented by only one species—e.g., the gentian (Gentianaceae), primrose (Primulaceae), and periwinkle (Apocynaceae).
Proceeding through New Zealand from north to south, we find that the acclimatised plants slowly decrease in numbers. Some Phytolacca octandra), for instance—are absent farther south. Altitude also thins the ranks, and at 3,000 ft. elevation, or less, indigenous and foreign species meet on equal terms. On the sheep pastures of the Ulex europaeus) does not spread far and wide, as in the lowlands, nor does it assume any remarkable dimensions.
Amongst the introduced plants the most notorious are those known by the opprobious term of "weed." We all must know, though at the present time it is difficult to conceive such a state of affairs, that before the advent of the white man, and even for some considerable time afterwards, there were no weeds in New Zealand. Of course, there would, be plenty of introduced plants, but he meant those kinds which overrun the land, and so become a nuisance.
Such well-known weeds as the sorrels, docks, fat-hens, and thistles would in the original primeval world each have its proper place in the primitive plant association to which it might belong, and would be present in no abnormal numbers. It was the changes brought about by cultivation, fires, and the close grazing of domestic animals which upset the balance of nature. Then those plants whose structure and habits were most in harmony with the changed conditions would become more numerous at the expense of the less well-equipped, and as the conditions antagonistic to the plant association as a whole
It is only in a virgin vegetation that we can actually witness the evolution of a weed. Our own flora has furnished some rather striking examples. The common bracken-fern ( Pteridium esculentum) is a case in point. This plant can be transported over great distances by means of its tiny spores, which, light as the finest dust, are carried for many miles by the wind. It has a stout far-creeping underground stem full of nutritious starch. Consequently, when the farmer burns its leaves and the grasses and other plants in its neighbourhood, the stem remains unhurt beneath the ground, and from its store of food can soon construct fresh leaves. Owing to their form and internal structure, these are capable of enduring considerable drought, so that the plant need not be at all concerned about its water-supply; consequently, all things considered, the bracken is a fair example of a potential weed. Nor does it belie this expectation, for at the present time this fern, worthless from the farmers' point of view, is far more abundant than in primeval New Zealand.
So, too, with the manuka ( Leptospermum scoparium), thanks to its abundant and quickly germinating seeds, its hard seed-capsules that are not easily destroyed by fire, the early blooming of the seedlings, its leaf-form and structure, its toleration of most varieties of soil, and its extreme plasticity with regard to changes of environment. Miles of manuka now exist where originally forest or a mixed shrubbery flourished.
Several species of piripiri ( Acaena Sanguisorbae various varieties,
Really a dry fruit which contains one seed, and does not split open at maturity. The calyx, which is furnished with several barbed bristles, remains attached to and encloses the fruit proper.
Other native plants, though not actually aggressive, hold their own on grazed land owing to certain qualities they possess— This becomes aggressive in certain localities.e.g., species of Geranium (low growth, long roots); Oxalis corniculata (low growth, spreading habit, quick germination); species of Cotula (low, turf-forming habit and far creeping and rooting stems); Senecio bellidioides (rosettes close to ground, wind-borne "seed," deep roots); Coriaria ruscifolia
The term "weed" is evidently merely relative, and depends upon the plant in its relation to man. If we leave the human element out of the question, a weed is simply a living organism, like any other plant or animal, and its habits and structure are entirely for its own benefit, just as are the organs of all animate beings. In itself there is nothing noxious at all, nor in an undisturbed plant society would it react upon its neighbours more than any other plant.
The flourishing "weed" of civilisation, so far as the plants with which it comes into contact are concerned, is much the same as is civilised man in relation to the savage. In an environment of wild nature, as a hunter with rude weapons of stone, bone, or wood, and inured to cold and hunger, the latter is in a far better position than the European under like circumstances. But should the civilised man, armed with the arts and under the surroundings of civilisation, come in contact with the savage, the latter is rapidly displaced.
Nor is the colonisation by introduced plants very different from human colonisation. Some plants, through their special favourable qualities and adaptability—in other words, through their power to make the best possible use of their circumstances—outdistance their fellows, and establish themselves far and wide, living in great security, and growing with a luxuriance not attainable in their mother-land.
Others flourish, it is true, but, lacking adaptability, are narrowly restricted to a definite and well-defined station out of which they cannot go. On the shores of Glaucium flavum) is confined to gravelly and stony beaches. On the clayey hillside near
Nowhere can this last example be better seen than in pasture land. At first the-newly laid-down grass may consist of valuable rye-grasses ( Lolium perenne,
Before leaving the question of weeds, those minute organisms must be mentioned which, settling down upon other plants and living as parasites, damage and not infrequently kill the host. To this category belongs that vast assortment of non-flowering plants commonly termed "blights." Many of these are members of the great family of fungi. For the most part they are more or less invisible without the aid of the microscope, but their presence is often writ large on the unfortunate host-plant. The rusts and smuts, the so-called Irish potato-disease, the organism causing "damping off" in seedlings, and many and diverse causers of plant-diseases belong to the "blights."
Right at the north-east corner of
From the plant-geographical standpoint, of particular interest are any facts bearing on the struggle between the introduced and indigenous species. The primary point to insist on is that so long as the surface of the soil is left intact—that is, if the primitive plantcovering be quite undisturbed—it is very hard indeed for the world's selected weeds—even those best equipped for aggression—to gain a foothold, and it is almost impossible for them to spread. On the Snowcup Range, in
Ruapehu, the upper portions of
A plant may remain quite isolated, for years and be apparently incapable of spreading, but an unlooked-for change of conditions may give it just what it requires. Eucalyptus numerosa) more than fifty years of age. Originally the vegetation of the place was mixed forest, but this has been replaced by a close growth of manuka heath. Some ten years ago this was burned in the neighbourhood of the tree, and a young forest of gums several acres in extent has sprung up (fig. 59), the new ground and the potash from the fire being eminently suitable for the germination of the gumtree seeds. At the present time the gum-saplings grow extremely closely. Their height is from 40 ft. to 50 ft. Some are half a foot in diameter, while others are extremely slender. Thousands of manuka seedlings sprang up along with those of the gum; and it must not be forgotten that manuka, far more than most of the indigenous plants, can reproduce itself again and again after burning, and can exclude almost all other vegetation. But in this case the greater rapidity of growth gave the gums the victory, and now only a little manuka remains near the margin of this remarkable and quite natural forestgrowth. Nor is the above merely interesting biologically: it is equally important from the point of view of cheap afforestation of unproductive areas covered, with manuka heath.
The replacement of the native species by aliens has wrought a remarkable alteration in the appearance of New Zealand. Gone from vast areas is the magnificent tropical forest; vanishing in many places are even the alpine plants. Fortunately, some time ago the
From what has gone before it must not be inferred that the acclimatised vegetation has no esthetic value. Highly cultivated lands, with their green meadows, waving grain, and stately plantations of foreign trees, are delightful. The gorse, noxious weed though it may be proclaimed, is a glory when its sheets of gold dazzle the eye. The green lines of self-planted willows on many a river-bank; the yellow lupin of the dunes; blue periwinkles by the roadside; white arum lilies on wet ground in the north; stately mulleins on montane riverbeds —these and many more are well worthy of admiration.
A rather curious fact that seems to need explanation is the absence of those hedgerow plants that make delightful the lanes of England. It is not that the prettiest of the flowers of the Mother-land are absent, though many appear to think this is the case. Some perhaps are to be seen only in our gardens—e.g., the wood-anemone, the wild hyacinth, the lily of the valley, primroses, cowslips, the bluebell of Scotland or harebell, and the daffodil. But the germander speedwell, the herbrobert, deadnettles white and pink,. daisies, buttercups, the raggedrobin, the stonecrop, wild roses, blackberries, the, honeysuckle, the forget-me-not, the toadflax, the bird's-foot trefoil, the dog-daisy, the bugloss, and the foxglove, to mention only a few British plants, are now wild in various places. The fact is, our hedges are frequently of gorse, a plant which smothers out most herbs with which it comes in contact. Introduced grasses also grow with a vigour unknown in Europe, and will not permit such plants as the primrose to become established. Cattle, too, graze by the roadside. In short, the conditions are quite different from those afforded by the mixed hedges of the Old Land.
No further details can be given regarding individual acclimatised plants. A full list is given in
It may be asked whether there may not be introduced some day other plants which might become dangerous pests. So far as animals are concerned, the experience of New Zealand towards acclimatisation has not been encouraging, and it is wise to consider long and This plant is a native of the Agropyron repens), the sorrel (Rumex Acetosella), or the so-called "Californian thistle"Cnicus arvensis).At the same time, any farmer who sees a new plant on his farm should look at it askance, obtain what information he can get respecting it, and eradicate it at once if he has any reason to suspect it of having the weed-assuming characteristics.
Finally, there comes in the question whether any of the native plants are liable to extinction. Personally, I should answer this in the negative. There is nearly always some haven of refuge, and, though, many species will eventually become much more rare, it is most unlikely that any will be entirely eradicated.
Relationships of the cabbage-tree—How gravity affects direction of growth— Fertilisation and seed-dispersal—Distribution of the cabbage-tree—Use of the tree in Maori times—The species of Phormium—The diverse stations of Phormium—Fertilisation by birds—The leaves of New Zealand flax—Use of flax by the Maoris—Garden varieties of Phormium—Diseases.
In the previous chapters a general account of the vegetation has been given rather than details as to special plants. In this and the chapter following a few of the commonest plants are dealt with, and something is told of their story, which, however, as yet is far from being a complete one.
The cabbage-tree ( Cordyline australis) is a most familiar feature in almost any New Zealand landscape, while it is also a favourite adornment of gardens, supplying there a special beauty of form generally lacking in the temperate vegetation:
But, although the plant m question is known so well, it may yet be news to some that it is no relative of the wholesome vegetable whose name it bears. It, on the contrary, -belongs to the same family as the Madonna lily, the hyacinth, and the tulip; or, if we must seek its relations below stairs, then to the onion, the garlic, and the shalot, whilst amongst its first cousins it boasts such useful members of society as aloes, squills, and sarsaparilla. Now, it is the structure of the flowers which places it in this most distinguished company, the outer floral, leaves being united at the base, The coloured leaves of the flower in the lily family are in two series, and in certain of the genera are not united below into a tube.
The trunk plays a most important part in the domestic economy of the tree, sending down deep into the ground what is popularly supposed to be a root. This, however, is nothing of the kind, but a deeply descending underground stem, which has the curious property for a stem of growing downwards while the aerial portion of the same trunk grows upwards, as should that of any well-regulated tree (fig. 60). Such growing upwards and downwards of stems and roots is regulated by that force we call gravity, which sets in motion the intricate and powerful "machinery" of the plant, just as a pressure of the hand lets loose that power which causes the mighty locomotive to move backwards or forwards, as the case may be. The descending stem penetrates the soil for a distance of several feet, giving off on either side long cord - like roots, which, passing outwards
The dead leaves of the cabbage-tree are scrupulously removed every year by the tidy but too zealous gardener, and a long, naked stem results. Nature, however, loves not nakedness in any form— the bare rock she clothes with lichens, and the fallen giant of the forest with moss; so, too, she hides-the upper portion of our tree's trunk with a not inelegant covering of brown dead leaves. Nor is she mindful of beauty alone in so doing, for these leaves become saturated with moisture when the welcome rain falls, the trunk on its part putting forth many short but active roots, which must assist the leaves materially to the all-important water-supply hi dry weather. As for the leaves themselves, they are provided with a strong, fibrous skeleton, which enables them to defy the frequent gales; also, they are more or less erect, and thus escape the full force of the sun's rays—a decided benefit in the long, hot summer days; and, finally, their minute structure is such as to guard them against excessive loss of moisture in times of drought.
The cabbage-tree blooms during November and December; the flower-stems are much-branched, and crowded with small whitish flowers. These have a most powerful, though rather sickly, odour, which attracts crowds of insect visitors, who in return for the gift of sweet honey assist in bringing the dust-like pollen of the stamens to the stigma, and thus fertilising the egg, which in due course will then grow into a seed—that is, into a small body containing within it a tiny cabbage-tree. The seeds are black in colour, and angular, nine or less being enclosed in the succulent, three-chambered, milky-white berries. These latter are greedily eaten by birds, who thus assist in sowing the seeds far from the parent tree. Not only do the native birds engage in this work, but the introduced ones have learnt also to
The genus Cordyline is somewhat widespread, its species being found wild in southern Asia, the Malay Archipelago, the Pacific islands, C. australis, is confined to New Zealand; but, though it is extremely abundant in the two main Islands, and its fruits are readily spread by birds, it is found in only one locality in
There are four other species of Cordyline in New Zealand, one of which, the toi (C. indivisa) (fig. 61), is a magnificent object, with its broad, arching leaves furnished with a conspicuous orange-coloured midrib. It is common at rather high levels in the
The common cabbage-tree is easy of cultivation. It will grow in almost any kind of soil, and may be readily raised from seed, this being the best method to secure a stock of plants. When a tree is cut down level with the ground it does not die, but will usually put forth new shoots from the underground stem. Even at an early age it is very ornamental, and young specimens, whose trunks are not yet developed, are eminently suitable for small gardens. There is a purplish-leaved variety, and also one with variegated foliage. Moreover, the cabbage-tree is a variable species, and many forms distinct for garden purposes may be met with in the wild state.
In a land where the natural vegetable products were not of much economic value, the most unlikely plants were pressed into the service of the aborigines, and any possessing the slightest beneficial property were made use of. The cabbage-tree, or, as the Maoris designated it, C. pumilio was much more prized for food. Cordyline indivisa was still more esteemed for its fibre, which, according to
In Europe the cabbage-tree is much prized for horticultural purposes, though it is hardy only in the warmer parts. In the Scilly Isles it is used for hedges, making wind-screens to the fields of daffodils, there grown so extensively for the
Still more common than the tree just dealt with, and equally well known to all, is the New Zealand flax. This is another misnomer, as popular names usually are, since the species in question is no flax at all, but another member of the lily family, consequently a near relative of the cabbage-tree, the true native flax being a pretty white-flowered herb ( Linum monogynum) common along the sea-coast. Although still extremely abundant, the flax has much diminished in numbers since the advent of the European, for the simple reason that it occupied the very ground most suitable for agriculture. Where the golden grain waves in the breeze, and where the lamb, unconscious of its doom, crops the lush grass, were formerly vast swamps, closely filled with the gigantic sword-like leaves of the plant, beneath whose friendly shelter countless red-legged pukeko sought their food, safe from their dreaded enemy the hawk.
The genus Phormium, to which the New Zealand flax belongs, is found only in P. tenax and P. Cookianum, this latter formerly known as
New Zealand flax grows in most diverse stations, and the structure of its leaves probably varies much according to environment. Faces of dry cliffs, clayey hillsides, swamps, and sandhills are some distinct spots where P. tenax flourishes. Nor is it fastidious as to climate. The warm valleys of northern Auckland, the wind-swept shores of south
The flowers of the flax are not very showy, being of a Iurid red in P. tenax and yellow in P. Cookianum. The pollen is usually ripe before the stigma of the same flower is ready to receive it, a fact which points to cross-fertilisation as a possible cause of the great variation of the species. The abundance of honey contained in the flowers attracts the tui and other native birds, who assist in the work of fertilisation, playing the part performed in many plants by insects.
The leaves spring from a short but stout creeping stem, and this latter, spreading over the ground, helps to increase the spread of the plant. It grows readily from seed also; and from the seedlings, if raised in a sufficient quantity, new varieties might be expected.
The leaves are stout and thick, and stand erect, thus avoiding the direct rays of the sun—a contrivance against loss of water, as shown before. That a swamp plant should require protection against drought seems absurd, but this special drought-combating structure it is which permits the plant to inhabit rocks, dunes, and other excessively dry stations mentioned above. Nor does it seem unlikely that the flax has been driven into the swamps by its competitors, and lives there not from choice, but from necessity, though its drought-resisting structure is no longer an advantage, unless the water of the swamp be acid. See remarks on physiological dryness in Chapters V and VII.
The harakeke, as the Maoris call the flax, was their most important plant, for on it their supply of clothing almost entirely depended. Dress mats of great variety were made from its fibre at an infinite expenditure of patience and labour. Some of these were dyed various colours, and were provided with elaborate borders. It also played its part in the Maori pharmacopoeia, being prepared in various ways for external application chiefly. From the dry flower-stalks, the korari, the Morioris of the Chathams built their fragile canoes.
Like the cabbage-tree, the flax is an admirable garden plant, and there are a number of very distinct varieties. Of these the principal are various variegated forms belonging to both species. Some, if not absolutely "true" to seed, certainly yield a large percentage of variegated plants; others, again, will put forth green leaves, and finally revert to the type, as did an especially fine specimen the author collected a number of years ago on the flanks of
The Maoris, too, cultivated the plant to some extent, and gave names to the different varieties.
Botanically, Phormium tenax is a most variable plant. The colour of the leaf-margin and midrib, the length of leaf-butt, its interior colour and gum-content, the stiffness of leaf, the breadth of leaf, the form and colour of flower, and the shape, size, and direction of growth of the pod— all these and other characters differ in different individuals. Indeed, it needs a close examination of any specimen and a long experience with flax - variation before one is able to select different varieties from the heterogeneous mass of a phormium swamp.
Phormium tenax, although an indigenous plant, is not immune from "pests" of various kinds, some of which are vegetable and some animal. Circular black spots formed by a microscopic fungus (
Abundance of manuka—Tea-tree or ti-tree?—Various stations of manuka—The different species and forms of Leptospermum—Uses—The fuchsia as a deciduous tree—Object of leaf-fall—The species of Fuchsia—Construction of the flower—Contrivances for cross-fertilisation—The wood and its properties.
The manuka of the Maori, the tea-tree of the colonist, and Leptospermum scoparium of the scientist, should also be well known to every reader. Unlike the plants already dealt with, it has not suffered loss at the hands of the white man, but, on the contrary, has become aggressive, and at the present moment occupies more territory than in the pre-European days. This is owing to its power of thriving on any kind of soil, wet or dry, to the great fertility and number of its seeds, and to its habit of blooming at an abnormally early age for a shrub. The blossoms are distinctly showy—a manuka heath in due season being a sheet of snowy whiteness.
The flowers have a five-lobed calyx, the tube of which is attached to the ovary. There are five spreading petals and a great number of stamens. The fruit is a woody capsule containing many seeds, most of which are unfertile.
This structure of the flower shows the shrub to belong to the same family as the myrtle and rata in New Zealand, while abroad it has relatives in the gum-trees of
Its leaves are small and stiff, and, like those of the family in general, extremely aromatic. This property has led to their use as a substitute for tea by the enterprising pioneers, who would probably cloak the unpleasant taste by means of no small allowance of sugar. From this use the English name "tea-tree" has arisen, and through corrupt spelling the spurious Maori "ti-tree" has followed, a term beloved of journalists. Worse than this is the usage in
Like the flax and cabbage-tree, the manuka grows equally well on faces of rocks, in swamps, and on dunes, while in the Hot-lakes District it occupies a more inhospitable station still—the ground charged with chemicals near the boiling pools; in fact, few plants can so adapt themselves to varying circumstances—an important matter when one is concerned with the origin of species. As an example, it may be mentioned that on the central mountains of
Besides L. scoparium, there are at least two other species in New Zealand—one, the tree-manuka or kanuka, a common plant enough; and the other, L. Sinclairii, only recorded hitherto from the Three Kings and the
These crimson varieties make beautiful garden plants. One, called by gardeners L. Chapmani, has been in cultivation for many years. Another, also with a garden name (
None of these red varieties seem to come absolutely "true" from seed, so they must be grown from cuttings, which unfortunately do not root readily. The red colour is present not only in the flowers, but extends to the leaves, which in all these races of manuka are more or less of a purple hue.
There is also a form of manuka with double white flowers which was discovered a few years ago by
The common species of manuka are not nearly so much cultivated in gardens as they deserve. Not only are they extremely beautiful when in flower, but they will grow well in any kind of soil. Young plants may be procured from any heath in abundance, or raised from seed, which germinates readily.
One of the mistletoes is very frequently parasitic on Leptospermum scoparium. It is a very small shrub with curious jointed stems, but no leaves. It rejoices, or perhaps the contrary rather, in the name, much bigger than itself, of
The common manuka (L. scoparium) has not usually a trunk stout enough to be of much use commercially, but it affords excellent firewood. It is also frequently used for brush fences, for the walls of whares, and for brooms, while the long straight poles are valuable for various purposes in gardens.
The colour of the wood differs in the two species. This has led to L. scoparium being called "red" and L. ericoides"white" tea-tree. As the leaves of both species are distinctly aromatic, a fragrant oil, which might possess medicinal properties, could be distilled from them.
The timber of the white tea-tree (L. ericoides) is of greater value than is that of its smaller relative. It has been used for wheelwrights' work, house-blocks, piles for small jetties, and fencing purposes. It also is highly valued for firewood.
The genus Leptospermum is made up of about thirty species, extending from New Zealand in the south to the Malay Archipelago in the north, by way of
There is hardly a forest in New Zealand, either primeval or almost obliterated, where the native fuchsia, the kotukutuku of the Maoris, with its thick irregular trunk and hanging strips of brown and papery
The deciduous habit is very rare amongst New Zealand plants, being confined to two or three, for naked boughs in winter are in harmony with a cold and frozen soil, since roots cannot suck up water if it be too cold, and the presence of leaves under these circumstances would be worse than useless. But where the climate is mild and equable, as in this country, then there is no need for leaves to fall, since they can do their complex work more or less efficiently all the year round. The fall of the fuchsia's leaf was not unnoticed by those keen nature-students, the ancient Maoris. "Where wast thou at the fall of the kotukutuku?" would be demanded of the laggard who had been absent when his presence was urgently needed during that special season of labour, the planting of the kumara.
The genus Fuchsia derives its name from a German botanist, Anglice, Fox), who lived during the early half of the sixteenth century. It contains more than fifty species, which, with the exception of three New-Zealanders, are all South Americans. From certain of these latter have been raised by the gardener's skill the large-flowered and brilliantly coloured varieties so popular in gardens.
The New Zealand species consist of the tree mentioned above (F. excorticata); a shrub, or at times a scrambling-liane ( F. Colensoi); and a rather rare trailing or partly climbing sea-shore plant, found only in the north of
The flowers of Fuchsia excorticata are produced very early in the year, and some even before the tree is in leaf. The calyx, green and unattractive in most flowers, forms here the conspicuous part of the blossom. Below, it is attached to the ovary; then it is constricted, and finally expanded into a funnel-shaped tube, which is divided at its margin into four acute segments. The colour is green and purple, but it soon fades into a dull red. The petals, four in number, are inconspicuous: they are inserted at the throat of the calyx. There are eight stamens. The style is slender and elongated, and terminates in a little knob, the stigma. The pollen is of a blue colour, and adds
This variability in length of style and stamens leads to there being three forms of flowers, which may be distinguished as—(a) the long-styled, where the stigma projects far beyond the mouth of the funnel, within which the stamens lie hidden; (b) the short-styled, where the filaments are long, and almost equal the quite short and but slightly projecting style; and (c) the mid-styled, which is a form intermediate between the other two.
These different forms of flower are not without an object. Experimentally it has been found that in many cases it is advantageous for a flower to be fertilised with pollen other than its own, and ample provision is made in nature for such cross-fertilisation, See also Chapter III, re fertilisation of flowers.F. excorticata the pollen of the long-styled form is usually immature or wanting—in other words, the flower is a female one. On the contrary, the short-and mid-styled flowers produce an abundance of serviceable pollen. The transmission of the pollen from one flower to another, so frequently the work of insects or the wind, is here performed by birds, especially the bell-bird and tui, whose heads become dyed blue with the sticky pollen as they pass from blossom to blossom in their greedy eagerness for the honey therein contained. The birds' work in time becomes manifest, through the long-styled flowers producing berries; whereas the short-and mid-styled flowers appear to be incapable of fertilisation from their own pollen, and bear but few berries. The above are the general details as stated in the "Forest Flora"; but the whole matter requires fresh investigation, and especially experiments conducted regarding the powers of self-fertilisation of the short-and mid-styled flowers.
The fruits of the fuchsia are a favourite food of the pigeon and kaka, and the seeds are distributed far and wide by these birds. They are insipid, but not unpleasing, especially to a youthful palate. To the Maori they were a welcome change of diet in a country devoid of luscious fruits, and a special name, "konini," was applied to them.
The timber of the fuchsia is almost indestructible. It is extremely strong and tough, but the gnarled trunk is of little value commercially.
It is, however, an ornamental wood, and can be used for inlaying and turnery. As a firewood its badness is almost incredible, and truly none but the newest of chums would dream of using it when camped in the forest. "Bucket-of-water wood," it has been termed; and the rather tall story goes how a trunk, which had been used for a back log to a fire for a whole year, upon being finally cast into the open air as worthless, put forth green shoots, and grew again into a tree!
As a garden plant F. excorticata is not unpleasing; but for a small garden F. Colensoi is more to be recommended. Neither species will tolerate much frost, although
Popular plant-names and their defects—Advantage and meaning of scientific names—Explanation of terms "genus" and "species"—Principal divisions of the plant kingdom—Rapid glance at the families and genera of New Zealand flowering plants—Ferns, mosses, fungi, and algae—The slime fungi partly animal, partly plant.
Certain New Zealand plants possess two kinds of names—popular and scientific. The former are either English or Maori. The English names are for the most part those which have been given by the early settlers, partly from some likeness, real or fancied, to the plants of their native land, and partly from some peculiar characteristic of the species in question. To this latter category belong such names as lacebark, ribbonwood, spiderwood, milk-tree, pincushion-plant; and to the former, birch, ash, honeysuckle. Some names have been bestowed for jocular reasons—e.g., lawyer, wild-irishman, spaniard, and nigger-head. Finally, a few are the work of botanists who have sought, vainly for the most part, to bring into use a nomenclature that should have a more correct English equivalent for the scientific name—e.g., speedwell for Veronica, groundsel for Senecio, palm-lily instead of cabbage-tree, beech instead of birch, &c. Some English names are corruptions of Maori ones, as biddy-biddy for piripiri, cracker for karaka, maple for mapou. This origin of names is quite an interesting study in recent word-making, and is well worth investigating.
The Maoris, living as they did in constant touch with nature, possessed much more knowledge of the vegetable products of New Zealand than do most of their more enlightened, but in some respects degenerate, white brethren. For all the more common trees and shrubs the Maoris have names. But both Maori and English names are used loosely, some being applied to more than one species, or having a different signification in different districts. Akeake is applied to Dodonea viscosa, Olearia Traversii and
The scientific names are in Latin. The use of Latin among learned men dates, of course, from the time of the Romans; but its application to plants, as we now know them, began in the sixteenth century, when modern botany was born. Latin was then the universal written language of the learned, and the early botanical works were all written in that tongue. This usage of Latin has proved very convenient in practice, for it would lead to endless confusion did the plants bear the popular names of their respective countries alone. As it is, a definite scientific name is applied to one particular species, and to that only, and such names are recognised by scientists, no matter what their nationality.
Each scientific name consists of two words, the first denoting what the genus is, and the second the species to which the plant belongs.
To write down the word "species" is much easier than to define what a species really is. In fact, when it comes to fixing the limits of a species, scarcely two classifiers can agree. Elementary species, as defined by De Vries (see Chapter I), are the units of the plant kingdom. Such are those groups of plants which differ from all others in certain distinct characteristics, and reproduce themselves "true" from seed. But this experimental method of separating species is not yet in vogue, nor does it seem altogether practicable.
The species, then, of the classifiers are founded by the comparative study of large numbers of individuals, and if a group of such has some distinguishing characteristics which separate it from all other groups of individuals, it is classed as a species. Such a group of individuals may form a true species, which will reproduce its kind,
If a number of species agree in certain particulars so that we may conclude they have descended from some common ancestor, they are said to belong to the same genus, and we have the next wider group of plants. Suppose we find a number of plants which, although they differ much in stature, shape of leaves, habit of growth, size and colour of flowers, and in other particulars, yet have all four petals, eight stamens, the calyx-tube attached to the ovary, and produce after flowering a narrow, elongated, 4-angled capsule, which splits open from the apex downwards into four sections, revealing a large number of seeds, each provided with a tuft of hairs at the apex, then all those plants will belong to the genus Epilobium (fig. 63). These plants, again, will vary much amongst themselves; but groups having distinguishing marks for each group can be found, and such groups will each represent a species. There are in New Zealand between thirty and forty species of Epilobium, which are distinguished from one another by distinctive marks, and each bears a name—e.g., Epilobium glabellum,
Originally the second name had a meaning which was supposed to be appropriate to the plant, but the number of specific names has so increased during the past hundred years that it is no longer possible always to find an appropriate appellation. So modern botany has decreed that a specific name once given must stand for ever, even where the name is quite inappropriate. This means that a name is now considered merely as a name and nothing more, and need have no meaning whatsoever.
Another matter which must be remembered is that generic differences generally depend on the structure of the flowers, and not on the leaves. That a plant has leaves like a willow does not constitute it a willow; similar plant-form, as has been already shown in this book, occurs amongst plants quite unrelated. Leaves, however, amongst other characters, are made use of as marks of specific differences.
Finally, before leaving this matter of names, it must be pointed out that the naming of plants is merely a preliminary, though necessary, study of the flora of a country. A man might easily know the
Classification goes still further. A number of related genera make a family, and so on, until such fundamental divisions of the plant
The families are now most frequently arranged according to the manner in which they are supposed by some to have originated, the more simple coming first and the more complex last. Thus, amongst seed-plants the pine-tree family begins the list, and the daisy family completes it.
Considering the seed-plants alone, New Zealand has between fourteen and fifteen hundred species, about three-fourths of which are found nowhere else, the number varying according to the computer's conception of a species.
It would be out of place to go at any detail into the families and genera, so only a few of the more interesting are mentioned. Neither can any attempt be made to define the families, &c., in popular language—a task of extreme difficulty, and, when accomplished, harder for the beginner to understand than would be his learning the necessary technical terms, which have a definite meaning and can be used with precision.
The daisy family (Compositae) is the largest of our families. What is popularly called the flower is not so, but is really a collection of small flowers placed closely side by side upon the expanded summit of the flower-stalk, and forming a "head." The cotton-plants, or mountain-daisies (Celmisia), the groundsels (Senecio), the vegetable-sheep and its relatives (Raoulia), the cotulas and the helichrysums belong to this order. Many are amongst the most striking of our plants, both in form and flower.
The bluebell family (Campanulaceae) has not many representatives with us. It contains the New Zealand bluebell ( Wahlenbergia saxicola), whose white or bluish flowers are so conspicuous a feature of the upland meadow, and the pretty white pratias which are related to the well-known lobelia of gardens.
The madder family (Rubiaceae) contains the large genus Coprosma, which is closely related to the coffee-plant. Coprosmas can always be recognised by the male and female flowers being on different plants, and by the berry-like fruit containing two plano-convex stones.
C. grandifolia has very large leaves and reddish-orange drupes, and is common in C. Peiriei forms a close turf in the drier
The figwort family (Scrophularinaceae) contains the very large genus Veronica and other genera of showy plants (Ourisia, Mimulus. Euphrasia, &c.).
The convolvulus family (Convolvulaceae) contains the beautiful climbing-convolvulus ( Calystegia tuguriorum) and the lovely purple
The borage family (Boraginaceae) comprises the forget-me-nots.
A little lower down the scale come the gentians (Gentianaceae).Owing to the bitter principle in their roots, these plants are not relished by stock. Possibly the root could be used as a tonic, like that of the European Gentiana lutea.
There is only one plant of the primrose family (Primulaceae), Samolus repens, a prostrate, white-flowered plant forming broad patches in salt meadows.
The heath family (Ericaceae and Epacridaceae) is important, as it contains many common shrubby plants. Draeophyllum, with needle-like leaves, and Gaultheria, with lily-of-the-valley-like flowers, are the most important genera.
The carrot family (Umbelliferae) is well represented, and contains one of the most remarkable genera of the flora, Aciphylla.
The willowherb family (Onagraceae) is represented by the large genus Epilobium. The species are not yet well known, and they are difficult for a beginner to determine. Some are distinctly pretty— e.g., E. pallidiflorum, E. macropus, E. vernicosum. Others become terrible weeds in an alpine garden—e.g., E. nummularifolium, E. linnaeoides. The fuchsias belong to this same family. Other related plants, though belonging to a different family, are the myrtles and ratas, both of which include some beautiful species—e.g., Myrtus bullata and Metrosideros lucida (Myrtaceae).
The mallow is a very showy family (Malvaceae), and contains some small-trees most valuable for garden purposes, as the lacebarks and ribbonwoods.
To the Elaeocarpaceae belongs the native currant (Aristotelia racemosa), one of the "fire weeds" of New Zealand—i.e., a plant which comes up abundantly after a forest is burned. Here also comes that fine tree the hinau (Elaeocarpus dentatus) and the pokaka ( E. Hookerianus), with its distinct juvenile and adult forms.
The New Zealand geraniums belong to the family Geraniaceae. They are generally rather insignificant, though their first cousins the pelargoniums of gardens, incorrectly termed geraniums, are amongst the most showy of plants.
To the pea family (Leguminosae) belong the New Zealand brooms (Carmichaelia) (fig. 64), of which there are nineteen species, all of which have remarkable contrivances against drought. Here also comes the yellow kowhai ( Sophora microphylla and its allies), and a rare mountain - plant,
The rose family (Rosaceae) lacks in New Zealand the true roses, but is represented by the genera Rubus (five species or more), to which belongs the bush-lawyer; Geum (six species, all but one mountain-plants); Potentilla (one species); and Acaena, to which belong the species of piripiri—plants very unlike roses.
The pitchy-seed-family (Pittosporaceae) is common in all our forests. The genus can be recognised by the large capsules, which, when they open, contain black seeds imbedded in very sticky matter. P. tenuifolium, so largely used as a hedge plant, is wrongly called matipo by the gardeners, which is the name for various species of Suttonia.
Saxifrages (Saxifragaceae), plants so essentially alpine, are wanting in New Zealand; but we have some forest-trees belonging to the family—e.g., the putaputaweta ( Carpodetus serratus).
The sundews. (Drosera) belong to the family Droseraceae. There are six New Zealand species in the genus.
The magnificent magnolias of America and Asia (Magnoliaceae) are absent from our forests, their representatives being shrubs with rather insignificant flowers, the pepper-tree (Drimys axillaris, D. colorata, D. Traversii), a relation of the well-known Winter's bark of
The buttercup family (Ranunculaceae) contains, besides the butter-cups, of which there are about forty New Zealand species, the charming clematises (fig. 65), and an alpine genus (Caltha) containing two species, which have a most curiously lobed leaf.
The mustard or cabbage family (Cruciferae) are mostly plants with rather insignificant flowers. Lepidium is the most important
New Zealand genus, and L. oleraceum,
To Loranthaceae belong the mistletoes.
The nettle family (Urticaceae) is distinguished by the appropriately named shrubby nettle,
The beeches ( Fagaceae) have been noted when dealing with the beech forests in Chapter III.
To the pepper family (Piperaceae) belong the kawakawa ( Macropiper excelsum) and the succulent herb
Among the seed-plants which have only one seed-leaf in the seedling comes the important family of orchids (Orchidaceae), of which we have between fifty and sixty species, some few of which live upon trees and have aerial roots.
To the iris family (Iridaceae) belong the pretty and easily cultivated libertias.
The lily family contains the palm-lilies (Cordyline, cabbage-tree), and the New Zealand flax, of which there are two species, P. tenax and P. Cookianum, as already noted.
The palm family (Palmae) has two representatives—the nikau ( Rhopalostylis sapida), and one found only on the
The rush family ( Juncaceae) is an extensive one, consisting of the alpine or subantarctic
The sedge family (Cyperaceae) contains many genera, some of which are frequently mistaken for rushes and others for grasses. Rushes, however, have flowers with small but distinct outer leaves; grasses have hollow jointed stems and leaves with split sheaths; and sedges, &c., have solid stems, frequently angular, and the leaf-sheaths not split.
The grasses (Gramineae) are almost the most important natural order, for their economic value cannot be overestimated. Some of the species are of extraordinary size—e.g., Arundo conspicua, Danthonia Cunninghamii, and D. antarctica, this latter belonging to the subantarctic islands. Others are extremely minute, as Agrostis muscosa, which forms small cushions on bare, wet ground in the subalpine and montane regions, and even occurs at sea-level in some places.
The pine-trees, belonging to two families (Pinaceae and Taxaceae), conclude the seed-plants, and differ from all treated of above in that the ovules are naked and not enclosed in a closed chamber (ovary). The most curious of our taxads is Phyllocladus, whose "leaves" are really flattened stems, which in appearance exactly resemble leaves. True leaves, however, are to be seen on seedling plants.
The seed-plants do not by any means comprise the whole of the New Zealand flora. There are, for example, more than a hundred and fifty species of ferns and their allies, including one genus, Loxsoma, peculiar to New Zealand.
Ferns differ greatly in their form and the texture of their leaves. Some possess two different kinds of leaves—namely, those which bear spores and those which do not, the latter having generally a larger area of surface. The genus Blechnum is especially distinguished by its two forms of leaves. Generally the leaf-surface is more or less vertical; but in Gleichenia it is horizontal, whence the species of that genus get the name of "umbrella-ferns" (fig. 66). To the genera Hymenophyllum and Trichomanes belong the beautiful filmy ferns. The leaves of these ferns are generally much divided, but those of the kidney-fern ( Trichomanes reniforme) are entire. This fern, notwithstanding its thin leaves,
It has thicker leaves than the other filmy ferns.
The mosses and liverworts embrace hundreds of species living under all kinds of conditions, and varying in size from the giant Moss-cushions are frequent in the subalpine zone on the west of the Dawsonia superba, 2 ft. or more tall, to tiny species of liverworts (Frulania, &c.) clinging to the bark of trees. Very interesting is the way in which both mosses and liverworts build up great cushions in stations where the air is almost constantly saturated with moisture. In the forests of
Low down in the scale of plant-life come those most wonderful plants, the fungi, whose life-histories are as marvellous as any fairy tale, and of which little or nothing was known fifty years ago. Now Nothofagus forests the boles of the larger trees are covered in many instances with a thick coating of a coal-black hue, which gives the trunks the appearance of having been plastered thickly with soot, and tends to enhance the gloomy character of the interior of these forests. This coating consists of a fungus, Antennaria by name, which is especially interesting from the manner in which it gets its food-supply. Antennaria belongs to
the group of "honey-dew fungi," so named because they utilise as food the exudation excreted by certain insects. If a piece of the plant be examined carefully, there will be found imbedded in its interior numerous reddish insects somewhat resembling tiny wood-lice, surrounded with white fluffy material like cotton-wool. These are scale-insects related to the well-known Coccus cacti, from which the colouring-matter cochineal is made. This beech-coccus exudes considerable quantities of a sweet sticky fluid, on which the black fungus feeds; Antennaria can also exist without its animal lodger and the rent which it pays in kind, but in this case I have been informed that the fungus changes its habit of growth somewhat in accordance with its altered circumstances.
After the fungi come the algae, salt water and fresh. Macrocystis. a brown seaweed, attains an enormous size, and lengths of many hundreds of feet are not unknown; indeed, this plant may be the famous "sea-serpent."
Then we have the bacteria—the "microbes" of the newspapers—all infinitesimally minute plants; some the greatest of benefactors, and others the deadly enemies of mankind. And finally come the slime-fungi (Myxomycetes), which may be seen as masses of jelly on rotten wood, and which, moreover, are at one period of their existence animals, and at another plants!
Indigenous plants suitable for school-grounds—Difficulty of growing native plants much exaggerated—Methods of collecting and propagating—Plants suitable for growing from cuttings or from seeds—The school-garden—List of native plants suitable for schools—Cultivation of alpine plants—List of easily grown alpines.
That the plants of New Zealand afford rich material of a most varied kind for nature-study in our schools should be fairly manifest to readers of the previous chapters. Many facts, of course, can be best learnt in the field; but most of the centres of population are far from the virgin vegetation, while the plants of the neighbourhood will generally be interlopers from abroad. In order, therefore, to become really familiar with the indigenous plants, and to watch them at various stages of growth and at all seasons, they must be cultivated; and almost every school in the Dominion might have, at any rate, one bed, even if quite a small one, of the native plants. The gums, oaks, "macrocarpas," and other foreign trees now grown for shade or ornament in the school-grounds may be seen everywhere, and each school throughout the land might gradually replace or supplement them by those New Zealand trees best suited to the particular locality. Thus would the schools as a whole become sanctuaries where the native plants, one of the peculiar features and special glories of the land, would be safe for all time.
But it may be urged that such planting would not be feasible, since every one knows "the native plants are particularly difficult to grow, and when removed from their home in the forests or elsewhere will die." Such an opinion, although widespread, is quite erroneous. It is the rough treatment so frequently accorded to the specimens, first on their being collected, and afterwards when planted, that causes failure, and not any special difficulty in their cultivation; indeed, many are quite as easy to grow as the rank and file of garden plants.
There is no reason why, for instance, the kowhai, manuka, lace-bark, ribbonwood, lancewood, totara, large clematis, Goprosma robusta, i.e., trying to grow a plant in a climate quite unsuitable. It is unreasonable, for example, to expect that the majority of lowland
For the successful cultivation of many of our plants no particular soil or situation is required. Perhaps, on the whole, a slightly shady position is best. It is well, too, to have some shelter against high winds, especially at first. Such shelter can be supplied by certain indigenous trees—e.g., species of Pittosporum, Olearia Traversii,
Quite a number of New Zealand plants can now be procured cheaply at some of the nurseries, and from such many will obtain what they may require. However, there will always be some who prefer to collect what takes their fancy in the forest, on the hillsides, or elsewhere. This, as well as being a healthy and delightful occupation, will stock a garden with mementos of many a happy hour, and will recall scenes of beauty.
As to the digging-implement, something light, strong, and easily carried is required. For many years the writer has used a shingling-hammer with the head beaten out into a small pick-axe, a tool first designed by the late
These collected plants, upon being brought home, should be planted in boxes or potted, or put into nursery-beds in a shady part of the garden. Of course, if there is a greenhouse, frame, or, better still, a shade-house or plant-protector fitted with a blind, into one or other of these the boxes or pots should go. Some species, difficult to grow from seed or to strike from cuttings, are best collected in their habitats —e.g., many alpine herbaceous plants and subshrubs, various species of Dracophyllum, orchids of all kinds, Gunnera, Dacrydium laxifolium, the various beeches, and the species of
Most New Zealand plants suitable for gardens can be raised from seed. This should be as fresh as possible. Species of the following Sophora, Carmichaelia, Veronica, Epilobium, Pittosporum, Melicytus, Pennantia, Hoheria, Celmisia, Hymenanthera, Gaya, Plagianthus, Fuchsia, Muehlenbeckia, Calystegia, Notospartium, Acaena,
So far as a school-garden is concerned, it is quite out of the question to draw up any general scheme. Everything depends upon the situation of the school, the enthusiasm of the master, and, above all, on the interest of the scholars. Perhaps one rather narrow bed alongside a fence, and out of the way of damage during the play-hour, would in many instances meet the case. In other places certain corners here and there would possess special advantages. The ground should be dug deeply and the drainage be good. Every plant should be labelled distinctly but not obtrusively. As well as the name, the place where the plant was collected should be noted. Labels may be made of some durable wood (totara, for instance), zinc, Zinc labels can be easily written upon, using as ink a solution of sulphate of copper.
The following plants are easy of cultivation and not difficult to procure:—
Trees.—Sophora grandiflora, S. microphylla (kowhai); Plagianthus betulinus (ribbonwood); Gaya Lyallii, G. ribifolia (mountain-ribbon-wood); Hoheria (any of the species), (lacebark); Griselinia littoralis (broadleaf),
Shrubs.—A selection of distinct veronicas—e.g., V. Traversii, V. Dieffenbachii, V. buxifolia, V. elliptica, V. anomala, V. cupressoides, V. Lavaudiana, V. Hulkeana, V. pinguifolia, V. Hectori, V. salicifolia, V. macrocarpa, V. diosmaefolia, V. chathamica, V. decumbens. Any of the taller-growing veronicas, if they become too big, can be cut out altogether and replaced by young plants grown from cuttings. There should be a selection of olearias—
Lianes.—The various species of Rubus are interesting plants. R. australis, with its great mass of white blossoms, is handsome when in bloom; R. schmidelioides goes through a juvenile and adult form, the former having much thinner leaves, and occurring usually on the forest-floor; and R. cissoides var. pauperatus makes a pretty bush, partly owing to its yellow prickles, and has a very curious appearance, with its leaves reduced to midribs. Then there is Senecio sciadophilus (the climbing-groundsel), and the various species of clematis.
Ferns.—Here, again, it all depends upon the climate of the proposed garden. In many parts of the Cyathea medullaris), thrive splendidly in the open, and a grove of these may be made a striking feature. But in many districts the most shaded positions alone must be chosen, or even a special structure would need building for the ferns to thrive. The following are some of the most easily grown species:
Perhaps a formal rockery, or a special alpine garden, may seem altogether too ambitious for a school-garden. Still, the New Zealand mountain-plants yield such instructive material for study, and are so beautiful or curious, that a few, at any rate, should be grown; and there is usually some shady corner that might be spared for these plants. Also, a good deal can be done in the way of providing a suitable growing-place by the aid of a few bricks or stones, especially if there be an abundant water-supply.
Of all forms of flower-gardening, this growing of alpine plants is the most fascinating. During recent years the alpine garden has become firmly established in Europe as an indispensable part of any garden of note. In scientific establishments, too, the cultivation of alpine plants is pursued with vigour. The new Botanic Gardens of A garden of this kind is being established at the Cass, in the mountains of
As for growing New Zealand alpine plants, the method entirely depends upon the climate of the locality. At
With management, nearly all the New Zealand alpine plants can be grown; but some are difficult to manage, even in the most favourable gardens. The following are some of the easier-grown of the Ranunculus insignis,
Any of the taller subalpine scrub plants can be used, and can be replaced by smaller specimens when they get too big. In fact, the plants to be made use of will depend so much on the size and situation of the alpine garden that hints regarding what to grow are not of much use. Moreover, the enthusiastic collector will bring home all sorts of plants, regardless of their capabilities, and the success of the alpine garden will be due entirely to his own energy, and to the knowledge he will acquire in the school of experience.