Part 5
It will be seen, from the nature of these movements, that the revolving stem is far more likely to come in contact with erect, rather than with horizontal supports, and observations made on twining stems will show that they seldom fix themselves round supports which are placed horizontally or only on a slight incline. In fact, some of these stems seem quite unable to twist themselves spirally except round an axis that is either erect or forms a very large angle with the horizontal plane.
Should the twining stem succeed in reaching a favourable prop, it immediately commences to bend itself round and round, forming a more or less compact spiral; and it is probable that the slight pressure, caused by the contact, acts as a stimulus which incites the peculiar mode of growth.
The direction which the spiral takes is not always the same. In the Hop, Honeysuckle, and the Climbing Buckwheat or Black Bindweed, the direction is always the same as that of the hands of a clock; while in the Bindweeds the spiral is invariably contra-clockwise. Further, it is not possible to compel any species to turn in a direction opposite to that which it naturally follows. Its stem may be forcibly twined in the wrong direction any number of times, but the free end will always follow its natural course as soon as it is left undisturbed.
Should the stem of a young twining plant fail to reach a suitable support, it bends over, not being sufficiently rigid to support itself, and at last the apex reaches the ground. Then, starting afresh from this second position of rest, it begins to ascend, and its upper end again commences to revolve as before. The chances are that it will, from this second position, find something round which it can twine; but failing this its summit may again and again bend to the ground, thus renewing its attempts from various positions more or less distant from one another, and in each effort so made the revolving upper end of the stem gradually lengthens, and describes a larger and larger circle in search for a favourable prop.
A twining stem sometimes has the advantage of additional support afforded by the stiff nature of the base of the stem, which is often rendered still more rigid by a twist or torsion resembling that of the strands of a rope. Such advantage is often still further increased by the presence of longitudinal ridges of the stem, frequently bearing rows of hooked prickles or hairs that hold on to any object touched. Again, the base of the stem, even though it reaches nothing round which it can twine, sometimes takes the form of a spiral, thus forming a good foundation for the upper portion as it seeks out a convenient prop. Yet another contrivance to secure the same end may be observed in the Greater Bindweed and some other plants. The stems, failing to secure a favourable hold, twine round one another, thus producing a kind of rigid cable for the support of the upper extremities as they revolve in order to find stems round which to form their spirals.
Should all the methods and contrivances of the twining plant fail it in its attempts to secure an uppermost place among the surrounding herbage or shrubs, it is compelled to trail along the ground. But such a position is most disadvantageous and unnatural to it, and usually results in a stunted and sickly plant that may produce no flowers.
Most of the twining plants of our country are of short duration. Many, like the Climbing Buckwheat, are annuals; while others, as the Hop and the Bindweeds, though they have perennial roots, produce fresh stems each season. The Honeysuckle and the Bittersweet, however, have perennial, woody stems which increase in thickness year by year, though the latter does not twine very much, and seems to take an intermediate place between the typical twiners and the plants which support themselves by merely interlacing their stems with the neighbouring plants or shrubs.
Some twining stems are unable to form their spirals round thick supports, and after making some attempt to do so grow off at a tangent to seek some less bulky prop. It has been observed, for instance, that the Hop cannot grasp a pole that is more than four inches in diameter.
In many cases, too, the spirals of the twining stem increase in diameter after they are first formed, and can thus adapt themselves to the increasing size of a living stem round which they have grown. The spirals of the Honeysuckle, however, do not increase in this way; and consequently, when they surround the trunk or branch of a young tree, the latter is constricted, often to such an extent that it is strangled and becomes stunted in its growth.
Another class of climbing plants cling to their surroundings by means of tendrils, which are modifications of leaves or shoots that grow spirally like the stems we have been considering.
Whatever be the origin of a tendril, it generally grows straight until it has reached some favourable support, and in order to obtain such support it performs circular movements similar to those of the tips of twining stems. Like these stems, too, the tendril is always sensitive, and forms a close spiral round the object it touches.
Some tendrils will grow spirally without ever touching a support, but these often become stunted and wither, while those which reach and embrace a stem or other structure are apparently incited to a luxuriant growth by the stimulating effect of the pressure produced.
When the tip of a tendril is successful in gripping a stem firmly, the portion behind it often takes part in the spiral movement, thus becoming shorter, and pulling the support towards its own plant in such a manner as to bring it within the reach of additional tendrils.
Of course the tendrilled plants have a much better chance of securing a suitable support than the twiners, for the latter have to depend on the searching and clinging powers of but one structure, while the tendrils are usually very numerous on the same plant, and throw themselves out in all directions in search of the required aid. The production of tendrils as a means of support is also much more economical than the method of clinging by a twining stem, for the former are usually very slender, while the latter must necessarily be sufficiently thick to convey the nutritive requirements of the whole plant; and thus the process of clinging by tendrils is more in accordance with the usual economy of Nature.
We have observed that twining stems can, as a rule, twine round only those supports which are erect or nearly so. This is not the case with tendrils, which are better adapted for twisting round horizontal stems and leafstalks. Often, too, they pass from one branch or leaf to another, and so secure the plant to which they belong by fastenings both above and below. Further, while the clasping part of a tendril often becomes hard and rigid, the portion between this and the plant may remain green and flexible. This latter portion also frequently forms a new spiral in the opposite direction, thus rendering the connexion between the plant and its support so supple and elastic that no damage is likely to accrue from the motions caused by the wind.
The tendrils which form long spirals are generally modified stems or leaves, or they may be elongated leaflets of a compound leaf. Those which are modified stems may be distinguished by their growth from the axils of the leaves, denoting that they had their origin in axillary buds after the manner of branches generally; and also, sometimes, by the fact that they bear imperfect leaves in the form of little scales. The tendrils of the Common or White Bryony (p. 96) are of this nature; while those of the Grape Vine are either modified floral stems or altered flower-stalks.
In some cases the entire leaf may be changed into a tendril, in which instance its true nature is revealed by the presence of a bud in its axil, as in many ordinary foliage leaves. More frequently, however, the 'leaf-tendril' is an altered leaflet of a compound leaf, such as we see in the Peas and Vetches; and it is interesting to note in such cases that the loss entailed by the conversion of leaflets into tendrils is often compensated for by the formation of leaf-like stipules which are capable of performing the function of leaves. In fact, we often find that the size of the stipules is proportional to the number of tendrils produced; and that when the leaflets are considerably reduced in number by their conversion into tendrils, not only are the stipules large and leafy, but the stem itself may be extended laterally into broad wing-like expansions which do the work of foliage leaves.
Interesting illustrations of this are to be found in the Yellow Vetch--a rather rare plant sometimes seen in sandy fields--in which all the leaves are converted entirely into tendrils, and their function performed by very large leafy stipules; also in the Narrow-leaved Everlasting Pea of bushy places, in which the leaflets of the compound leaves are all converted into tendrils with the exception of two, the work of which is aided by the stipules and by the 'wings' of the stem and petioles. In the Rough-podded Vetch, too, the stems and petioles are winged to serve the same end; and other British members of this genus have either large stipules or winged stems, or both, to compensate for the loss of leaflets that have been modified into tendrils.
In other climbers the blade of the leaf is not reduced in size, even though the leaf serves the purpose of a tendril, the function of clinging being assigned exclusively to the petiole or leaf-stalk. This may be observed in the Wild Clematis and the Bryony, in both of which the petiole forms a ring round any branch or stem with which it comes in contact. These petioles are apparently equally sensitive on all sides, and are therefore ready to cling to any available support, whether above or below. In the Clematis the leaves are at first at right angles to the stem of the plant, but they afterwards turn downwards, and thus transform themselves into so many anchors which give additional aid in supporting the climber among the other hedgerow plants and shrubs.
IV
EARLY SPRING
The work of the botanist is light during the early spring, especially if his attention is directed only to plants and trees in their flowering stages; but, to one whose ambition is to study Nature in all her varied phases, this season of the bursting of the bud, when all things are awakening into new life, is full of interest, and demands no small amount of time.
The first flowers observed in the spring are mainly those hardy weeds which may be seen in bloom almost through the year, such as the Shepherd's Purse, Chickweed, Groundsel, White Dead Nettle, Red Dead Nettle, and Henbit Dead Nettle. These are soon followed by the Furze, Strawberry-leaved Cinquefoil, Snowdrop, Hazel, Common Whitlow-grass, and other flowers that are truly blossoms of the spring. All these will be described in turn, according to their various habitats; the object of the present short chapter being to note those signs of early spring which demand the attention of the lover of Nature while flowers are as yet few and inconspicuous.
A ramble over bleak downs and moors during the cold days of early spring will probably reveal but little of interest in the way of vegetable life, but in sheltered vales and woods, copses, and protected waysides, there is much to be observed. Here it is that we find the hardy weeds which have continued to bloom throughout the winter months; the earliest of the spring flowers; the fresh green foliage of herbs and shrubs that, in more exposed situations, have been completely denuded; the first tender seedlings appearing above the ground long before the frosts are over; and the expanding 'leaf-buds' showing their green while elsewhere all life seems dormant.
This is the season when the young botanist requires his notebook more than the collecting-book or vasculum; for his records of early flowers, and of the times of the appearance of the leaf in our trees and shrubs, will prove of great interest when compared with the corresponding events and times of other years. Not only do our spring seasons vary considerably from year to year in such a manner as to alter the general times of appearance of leaf and flower, but the vicissitudes of our climate even change the order in which these events occur.
The general study of the buds of trees should commence before they begin to burst. We commonly speak of the buds as winter buds, but it should be known that they were formed in the preceding summer or autumn, and have remained dormant throughout the winter. There is usually a _terminal bud_ at the tip of each twig, and _lateral buds_ at the sides. If we examine a lateral bud we find immediately beneath it a more or less distinct scar, denoting the position of a leaf that fell in the autumn, thus showing that the bud in question was formed in the axil or angle of the leaf. These observations should be verified by examining the trees in autumn, while the leaves still exist.
It is not sufficient that we are able to recognise trees when in leaf; they should be known equally or almost as well during the winter and early spring while the branches are bare, and this is usually easily accomplished by making ourselves acquainted with the general form of each tree as viewed from a distance, and, on closer inspection, with the nature of the bark and the character of the buds.
All our forest trees are of the exogenous type; that is, their stems increase in thickness by the addition of new wood formed outside the older wood and underneath the bark. Thus the bark, which is composed of a layer or mass of dead, sapless cells, is gradually pushed outward as the stem thickens. The result is that the bark is either more or less fractured, as in the Elm and the Oak, or it flakes off and falls to the ground, as is the case with the Plane and the Birch. A new layer of bark is always formed during each summer, and this, in turn, either cracks or peels away; but while, in the former instance, the accumulated bark presents a very rugged appearance, and becomes very thick, in the latter case it remains smooth, and is always thin.
Then again, how are we to account for the great variety in the general forms of our different trees--the irregular, crooked nature of the Oak; the slender, but denser branching of the airy Birch; and the tall, pyramidal form of the Lombardy Poplar? All this is easily understood if we carefully observe the positions of the buds as seen during the winter months; and watch the development of these buds during early spring.
If the buds are irregularly scattered on the twigs, the lateral buds being as strongly developed as the terminal ones, while, in the spring, as is often the case, certain only of the buds develop into new twigs, the others remaining dormant, then the branches assume that irregular, crooked appearance so characteristic of the Oak. If, on the other hand, all the terminal buds are well developed, and the lateral buds are weaker and more regularly distributed, but farther apart, then the tree grows more rapidly in height than in breadth, and assumes more nearly the character of the Pyramidal Poplar. It will thus be seen that the study of trees in their winter condition is not altogether lacking in interest.
Referring once more, but briefly, to the matter of dormant buds, we recommend the reader not only to observe that some buds do not expand with the others during the spring, but to make them the subject of experiment. Thus, when the Horsechestnut is well in leaf, dormant buds will usually be seen on the sides of the twigs, sheltered by the spreading leaves produced at the tips. Now remove the whole cluster of leaves formed by the terminal bud, together with the bud itself, and the hitherto dormant laterals, under the influence of increased light and warmth, and supplied with sap that is now directed into new channels, will speedily show signs of growth. Similarly, the fruit-gardener will remove the tips of the branches of his fruit trees, which often bear buds that are destined to produce leafy twigs only, and thus encourage the growth of the fruiting buds that are situated lower on the twigs.
Let us now briefly consider the structure of buds and the manner in which they are protected. Most buds are surrounded by brownish scales which are impervious to water, and thus prevent a loss by evaporation at a season when the activity of the roots in absorbing moisture from the soil is suspended. Such loss is still further insured in some cases by a covering of natural varnish. On removing this protective coat we find a dense cluster of closely-packed leaves, variously folded or crumpled in different species, and often, in the centre, a cluster of flowers.
What, then, is the true definition of a bud? It is a young branch, and may give rise to a mature branch bearing foliage leaves only, floral leaves only, or a combination of both. A transverse section of a bud, examined, if necessary, with the aid of the microscope, will show the nature of the branch it was destined to produce; and, in the case of buds which represent, in embryo, branches bearing flowers, or both leaves and flowers, it is often an easy matter to see the whorls of the future flowers, and even the pollen cells in the anthers and the ovules in the ovary.
Interesting as it is to study the structure of buds in their dormant condition during winter and early spring, even more fascinating is the watching of the gradual expansion of the bud and the unfolding of the young leaves. And it is not always necessary to make frequent visits to the woods in order to carry out such observations, for a large number of buds will develop almost equally well, at any rate through their earlier stages, if the twigs bearing them be placed in vessels of water either in or out of doors; and in many cases all the stages from dormant bud to perfect leaves and fully-expanded flowers may be watched in this way.
We have spoken of the protection afforded to the dormant bud during the winter period, but it is interesting to note that protection is necessary for the young leaves even after they have forced themselves well out into the light and air. The reason for this is that the epidermis or outer skin of the young leaf is not properly developed. It is not yet water-tight, and, consequently, the sap of the tender leaves would rapidly evaporate, so that they would soon become dry and shrivelled.
The means by which the young leaves are protected will be readily seen if we watch the gradual development of the bud. In many cases these leaves remain folded long after they have left the shelter of the original bud-scales, the manner of folding being the same as that which obtained while within the bud. Sometimes they are folded like a fan, or like the leaves of a book; sometimes rolled one within the other, or irregularly crumpled in such a manner that nothing is exposed to the air except the edges of the leaves and the surfaces of the veins.
In addition to the protection from evaporation afforded by the folding of the young leaves, many are covered with a dense coat of "wool." Young leaves of the Horsechestnut are very thickly covered with such a coat, of which only the slightest traces are to be seen in the fully-grown leaf. The young leaves of the Beech are folded like a fan for some time after they have left the enclosure of the bud, and the folding is such that the only parts exposed are the margins, the midrib, and the strongly-marked parallel veins. But since all these parts are provided with hairs, the young leaf, as long as it is folded, is surrounded by a complete protective covering. As the epidermis develops, and the danger of loss by evaporation thus reduced, the leaf straightens itself out, and the hairs either fall or become shrivelled. The leaf of the Wayfaring Tree is protected, while young, by a complete covering of starlike hairs which form a fine felted coat over the whole surface; and when the epidermis is properly formed, the hairs are all shed.
Some young leaves are preserved by scaly stipules which surround them after they have emerged from the bud; and as soon as the epidermis is sufficiently impermeable the stipules, having done their work, fall to the ground. So great is the shower of these transient structures, in the case of the Oak, Elm, and Lime trees, that the ground is almost completely covered by them.
Young leaves have yet another way of preventing the evaporation of their sap, and that is by turning themselves into the erect position so that the warmth of the spring sun has but little effect on them. The young leaves of various grasses turn their apices upwards; while those of the Horsechestnut, after having lost the protection afforded by the woolly covering and the original folding, turn themselves with their points downwards. Later, when the epidermis is well formed, and the leaves are so far developed that they are capable of utilising the energy of the sun in the performance of their functions, they take up the horizontal position.
Another interesting matter for spring observation is the relative times of the bursting of the flowering buds and the leafing buds on the same species of tree or shrub. In many cases the former are fully developed before the latter show any signs of active growth, or while the foliage is as yet only passing through its earliest stages. The Hazel catkins shed their abundance of pollen before the foliage buds show the slightest signs of green. The Blackthorn is white with snowy blossoms before a leaf appears. The upper twigs of the Elm appear fluffy in the distance through the formation of its flowers while the foliage buds are still dormant; and the Alder, Willow, Poplar and Aspen likewise produce full-blown catkins while their branches are otherwise bare. Of the trees above named, the Hazel, Elm, Alder, Poplar, and Aspen are dependent on the spring winds for the transfer of the pollen, but the pollination of the Willow and the Blackthorn is brought about by the agency of early insects which visit the flowers for the nectar they provide.
The same spring sun which calls forth the new leaves and early flowers exerts its vivifying influence on the seeds that fell to the ground before the winter's frosts set in, and in sheltered places myriads of young seedlings of plants and trees may be found in their first stages of growth. The early history of a plant is as interesting a study as that of the mature specimen, and the young botanist will do well if he seeks out the germinating seeds and watches their development. This part of botanical study may, perhaps, be carried on more conveniently at home than in the field, for the seedlings may be grown in soil, wet sawdust, or in water alone, and the stages closely observed.