CHAPTER IV
THE TROPICS AND THEIR DEVELOPMENT
THE growth of vegetation in tropical lands is a revelation of what rich soil aided by a hot sun and an abundance of water can do. There are localities in the world where is found the rich soil, but either warmth or water is wanting and they are comparatively barren. In this region where the soil is frequently eight to fourteen feet in depth, where the fall of water is from eighty to one hundred and twenty inches annually, and where the sun furnishes perpetual summer heat, nature reveals herself in her grandest moods, and the stranger coming here for the first time cries out in astonishment at her prodigality.
The first feeling of one on entering a tropical forest is that of helplessness, confusion, awe, and all but terror. Without a compass or a blazed path a man would be almost lost in a few minutes if he should venture into such a tangled growth by himself. The exuberance of vegetation is fairly astounding and the English language is utterly inadequate to express the variety and luxuriance of the vegetable world. It is equally as impossible to describe the colours for there are so many tints of green. The costliest amusements of our gayest cities can never equal the gratuitous diversions which nature provides for her favoured guests. Thus it is that one feels when traversing the tropical forests of Guatemala. Eastern Guatemala, that part bordering on the Gulf of Mexico, is an American Java, a botanical garden spot where climate and the black soil vie with that eastern isle. And no land can compare with it in the number and variety of its birds and flying insects, for it is a veritable natural museum of living birds and butterflies.
Every growth on these shores is straining upwards in perpendicular lines, and in fierce competition, towards the light above so necessary to its healthfulness. These upward shoots are of every possible thickness and almost every conceivable hue. The leaves are, for the most part, on the twigs. The number and variety of trees is almost infinite as compared with our northern woods. There are more varieties of palms alone, than all the arboreal species of the New England woods. Among these are the cohune palms with great clusters of hard, oily nuts; another kind with fearful spines but edible nuts; and even climbing, vine-like palms that will reach a length of several hundred feet. Bamboos are present everywhere with their graceful stems, and tall reeds with blossoms in striking contrast with the dark-green leaves of the trees.
Great mahogany trees rise straight and with uniform trunks in the forest like the great oaks in our own woods, only higher. Immense ceiba trees sometimes fifteen feet in diameter stand up like veritable monsters of the forests and occasionally throw out great buttresses, as it were, for additional strength. When these trees are cut a platform is built reaching above these buttresses and the cutters stand on this. Even the poor little villages are ennobled somewhat by the noble palms and ceiba trees which they contain. Decaying trees and branches are seldom seen, for the elements quickly destroy or the migratory ants devour them. If a dead trunk or log is found it is so covered with growths of parasites such as orchids, mosses, ferns and flowering plants, that the dead wood can scarcely be seen. One tree drops its nuts, about the size of a hen’s egg, into the water where they germinate and float about until they anchor themselves on a bank or shoal. The absence of sod is very noticeable, for the foliage is so dense that grass will not grow. Rosewood, ironwood, logwood, sapodilla, cedar, cacao and fig trees—all are found within these forests, and the mangrove on the coast lands, or the banks of streams.
There are no solitary tree trunks, such as we are accustomed to, in the lowlands. All are covered with vines and parasitic growths. Some of the trees have enough orchids and other plants growing upon them to stock a hot-house; others have so many vines stretching down from their branches to the ground that you would think some kind of a trap had been built. One vine may twine around another and another, until a great cable is formed several inches across and furbelowed all down the middle into regular knots. There is sometimes such a labyrinth of this wire rigging that it keeps an Indian with his _machete_ busy, for he must cut vines right and left every few feet. It must have been in such a forest that the story of Jack and the Beanstalk originated, for these vines bring it vividly to mind. One parasitic vine—the matapolo—starts as a slender vine, but gradually expands until it looks like a huge serpent; and if several cling to the tree they will kill it, but by that time they will support the dead trunk. The sarsaparilla, that health-giving plant, is one of these dependent vines, indigenous to these forests, and is a very common growth here. It belongs to the Smilax family and climbs to a great height. Only the long tough roots are used in medicinal preparations. These are cut off by the hunters and the stems planted in the ground, when the roots will be replaced in a short time by the alchemist, nature. The vanilla is a parasitic orchid and also flourishes in these damp, oozy forests.
When no vines are visible at the bottom, dangling vines may be seen sixty or eighty feet up in the green cloud above, growing out of what looks like a gigantic nest of parasitic growths, and frequently with arms as large as a fair-sized sapling. You can only tell what it is by felling the tree, and even then the trunk may refuse to fall, for it is so linked and intertwined with adjoining trees by the many vines. When thirsty the natives cut a rough looking vine, first above and then below, and from out of this section pour out a pint or more of pure cold water. This is the ascending rain water hurrying aloft to be transformed into sap, leaf, flower and fruit.
In contrast to the silence of the northern woods there is no stillness in these jungles so long as the sun is above the horizon. The music may vary from the screeching of the innumerable flocks of parrots—for they never go singly—to the feeble chirp of an insect, but it is there. During the day there are birds that incessantly chatter, whistle, croak, chirrup, coo, warble and utter discordant noises, thus making the air vocal with the varied sounds. At night the pitiful howling of the spider monkey breaks the silence that otherwise might obtain. No country, so naturalists say, offers a greater variety of bright-hued birds. The great macaw is a polychromatic wonder rivalling the proud peacock flaunting his plumage in the sunlight. There are many varieties of parrots and parroquets to be found. The quetzal, which figures in the national emblem, has tail feathers often reaching three feet in length. These feathers are of a peacock green to indigo in colour, the breast is scarlet and the wings dark. This bird will not survive captivity, and for this reason the founders of the republic gave it a place on the nation’s escutcheon. In ancient days, so highly was this bird regarded that none but the royal family dared to wear its plumes. There are some good specimens to be seen in the museum at the capital, but a live quetzal is rarely seen. Then there are pelicans, kingfishers, mot-mots, pavos, curassows, white cranes, doves, swallows, noisy yellow-tails and the curious toucan with its enormous bill and brilliant colour. Vampire bats about the size of an English sparrow are common. They will bite cattle, but are not so large, nor so fierce, as the South American species that will attack even human beings.
Two species of monkeys are found in these forests—the white-faced mono, whose face is nearly devoid of hair and beard, and the long-tailed, howling monkey. These animals are migratory and, as they build no nests, it is difficult to locate them. It is really wonderful—so hunters say—how fast these monkeys can travel through the trees by jumping from one limb to another sixty or eighty feet above ground. They live on fruits and insects, especially beetles and butterflies, and rob the nests of birds for the eggs. Many of them are kept as pets and they are quite intelligent and very mischievous. Some of the natives prize them as food. Among the other animals, more or less common, are peccaries, jaguars (called by the natives _tigres_), tapirs, ant-bears, wild hogs, and a species of small, red deer. The sloth, that peculiar tree-animal so different from most tree-animals, which are usually very agile, is found in some districts. Snakes are not so plentiful as one would expect, although the “chicken boa,” so called, sometimes reaching a length of a dozen feet, is occasionally encountered. Alligators are not very common, though not a rarity by any means. Turtles are very plentiful, and the edible hawksbill turtle, whose shell is so valuable, because it furnishes the tortoise-shell of commerce, is very abundant on these shores, sometimes weighing as much as one hundred and fifty pounds. The iguana is one of the numerous lizard family and is highly prized for food, its flesh tasting something like chicken, so epicures say. The natives prefer it to good beefsteak. This curious reptile has a mouth like a toad, green, glittering eyes, a ponderous under throat, and lancet shaped spines along the back, and sometimes reaches a length of four feet. It is easily tamed, and it is a very common sight to see them in the coast villages sunning themselves around the cottages and apparently as much at home as the dogs and chickens.[1]
Great butterflies, whose outstretched wings spread out eight inches, are a common sight. Collectors flock to these shores each year for butterfly specimens, for in no country is there a greater variety. The natives can seldom be hired to catch them as they think it is unlucky and will injure the eyes. Spiders with legs two inches across can be found. Scorpions and centipedes abound, but both are sluggish and are dreaded very little by the natives—not much more than hornets in our own country.
Footnote 1:
“These serpentes are lyke unto crocodiles, saving in bigness; they call them guanas. Unto that day none of owre men durste aduenture to taste of them, by reason of theyre horrible deformitie and lothsomnes. Yet the Adelantado being entysed by the pleasantnes of the king’s sister, Anacaona, determined to taste the serpentes. But when he felte the flesh thereof to be so delycate to his tongue, he fel to amayne without al feare. The which thyng his companions perceiuing, were not behynde hym in greedyness; insomuch that they had now none other talke than of the sweetnesse of these serpentes, which they affirm to be of more pleasant taste than eyther our phesantes or partriches.”—_An old writer._
Many kinds of ants have their habitat in the Guatemalan tropics. One species builds nests in the tree tops, which resemble those of hornets. Another kind, called the umbrella ant, is one of the most interesting species in the family of ants. They are so called because, when seen, the worker is always carrying a piece of leaf like a sail, which he holds tightly as if his life or happiness depended on getting that particular leaf to its destination. Several times I took away the piece of leaf and the worker would immediately attack another ant and endeavour to get his leaf, and sometimes a number of ants would become involved in the melee. The ant finally left without a leaf would start back on the trail, for it seemed to be an inviolable rule never to go back to the nest without a section of leaf. These leaves are stored away where they ferment and form one of the foods of these industrious little workers.
When Cortez made his memorable journey from Mexico to the present site of Puerto Cortez, in 1525, passing through Livingston, the coast country of the Kingdom of Quahtemala, as it was then called, was an almost unbroken forest, swampy, and oozy, and subject to heavy overflows in the rainy season. He sailed up the Rio Dulce with eyes wide open in wonder as the beauties of the stream unfolded. Almost two-thirds of the available agricultural land in Guatemala is still uncultivated for want of labourers and the necessary industry. With the advancement of modern science in remedying the fever-producing conditions, these regions can be made most desirable. One noted scientist has recently predicted that tropical lands will in the future be the favourite abode of mankind, as they were in the early history of the human race, because of the ease with which a livelihood can be obtained. In a land of perpetual summer, where fruits grow wild and a small piece of land will produce enough sustenance for a family, there is no need for a man to work hard. Earning one’s bread by the sweat of his brow becomes a jest. It is little wonder that the natives bask in the sun and dream their lives away.
Of all the rich soil so abundant in this republic, there is little systematic cultivation. There is no necessity to plow the land after it has been cleared of the timber and undergrowth. Even corn, of which three crops can be raised in a season, without the aid of fertilizers, is planted in holes made by a stick, and rice is scattered broadcast. Corn will often grow twelve feet in height and produce three generous ears on the stalk. The land laws are liberal in order to encourage settlers from other lands to locate here. The public lands are divided into lots of not more than fifteen _caballerias_, which are sold for a price ranging from $250 to $300 each by the government. A _caballeria_ comprises one hundred and thirteen and five-eighths acres. Premiums have been offered by the government for the cultivation of India rubber, cacao, sarsaparilla, cotton, and tobacco; and no tax will be levied for ten years on lands devoted to the cultivation of these products. The small farmer, however, cannot make a small farm pay as well as in northern lands, for he could not stand it to work so hard and so regularly. Plantations to be successful should be large enough to justify the establishment of a colony of peon labourers on the premises.
One plantation of three thousand acres, and employing from nine hundred to thirteen hundred labourers, produced in one year three hundred thousand pounds of sugar, twenty-two thousand gallons of milk, three million bottles of brandy, two thousand head of cattle and more than a million pounds of coffee. The labour laws require the owner of a plantation to preserve order on his estate; to keep a record of his employees, their wages, etc., in Spanish; to provide suitable dwellings or materials with which to build them (this, however, is simple enough); to furnish medicines and medical assistance in case of sickness; to keep a free school for the children where more than ten families are employed, if there is no public school in the neighbourhood; and to see that all persons are vaccinated.
Nature has done all that could be expected or could be hoped for on her part. The only thing necessary for success is the proper selection of ground and intelligent cultivation of the crops to which it is adapted. The diversity of altitudes and climates allows a great range of products. In no country in the world of equal size, in all probability, is there such a great variety of surface or such a diversity of natural products. There are more than four hundred species of wood of which one hundred and fifty are commercially valuable, and some three hundred and forty medicinal plants have already been discovered; and the end of discoveries in this line has not yet been reached.
Of the valuable woods, mahogany easily takes first place. These great and majestic trees are found in considerable number in the forests of northeastern Guatemala. Those situated near the larger streams have been cut down. Farther inland the difficulty of transportation makes the marketing of the logs an expensive undertaking, although the standing trees can be purchased from the government for a very small sum. The logwood tree, as well as other dyewoods, is found bordering on all the great lagoons and some portions of the Gulf coast. It is a tree of medium size and peculiar appearance, attaining a height of twenty or thirty feet. The trunk is gnarled and full of cavities, and separates a short distance above the ground. The heart, the only valuable portion, is a deep red. The logwood is found in the same localities as the mahogany, and they are districts that are generally flooded in the rainy season. The timbers are cut in the dry season and then floated down to the ports in the rainy season.
The palms are the most familiar of all tropical trees and a landscape hardly seems tropical without these graceful trees. It is doubtful if there is a single class of the tropical trees so essential to the native as the palms. Houses, timber, firewood, fodder, food and drink, needles and threads, wax and drugs are all obtained from palms of various species. The Royal palm is the most graceful and majestic of all, and there is no more imposing scene of arboreal beauty than the long avenues of these beautiful trees so common in the American tropics. Their smooth, tapering trunks, almost as hard as granite, tower upward for eighty or even a hundred feet above the earth, bearing at the top a mass of green, drooping plumes. These great white trunks, standing boldly out upon verdure-clad slopes, so conspicuous among the tangled sea of vines and jungle at their feet, and their plumes swaying gently in the breezes, are a beautiful and imposing sight.
The commonest and most useful of the palms is the cocoanut, which is a conspicuous sight in every village and rural scene in tropical lands. As this palm most commonly grows in spots exposed to the full sweep of the winds, the trunk is gradually bent away from the winds. It is seldom, indeed, that one will find the cocoanut in an absolutely perpendicular position. The stem is so strong and tough, being composed of closely-interwoven fibres, that the entire top may be torn off by the hurricanes and the trunk remain uninjured. The cocoanut commences to bear when from three to ten years old and will continue to produce fruit, year after year, for from seventy-five to one hundred years. The nut is used for both food and drink, and the shell is made into dippers, jars, spoons and other household utensils. The dried cocoa is a valuable article of commerce, but the real value of the oil prepared from the fresh meat is only beginning to be realized. It is useful not only in the manufacture of soaps, but a butter is prepared from it that is superior not only to cottonseed oil, but, so it is claimed, better than even animal butter for purposes of food. There is no reason why the tropics of Guatemala should not produce large quantities of the oil and cocoa meat for American and European trade.
India rubber grows wild in the forests and could be cultivated profitably, as it is now being done in Mexico and other countries. The government will give one _manzana_ (113.62 acres) of land as a bonus for every two thousand rubber plants set out for cultivation. Sugar cane can be raised profitably, as the stalks grow high, with many joints, and have a greater percentage of saccharine than in most countries where it is cultivated. Furthermore, it does not require replanting for years in this soil. The stalks will grow nine feet high in as many months. At present about the only use to which the cane is devoted here is in the manufacture of “white-eye,” the native brandy. Some of it is made into sugar by means of old-fashioned sugar mills, which are simply vertical iron-roll mills turned by oxen. There is only one kettle used and no clarifier, and the syrup is run into wooden moulds, where it is cooled into dark hemispherical blocks—a form much liked by the Indians.
The Guatemalan cacao is claimed to be the very best in the world. It is not cultivated to any great extent at present, although the propagation is on the increase, as Ecuador practically controls the trade. The best conditions are an altitude of from eight hundred to two thousand feet and a soil rich in moisture, or capable of irrigation. Virgin lands from which forests have been cut are the best. It requires six years for the trees to mature, although they will occasionally bear in less time. The cultivation does not require nearly so much labour as coffee, although care must be taken not to hurt the “bean” when it is removed from the pod. One day is given for “fermentation;” after which they are dried in the sun for several days. The cacao is then ready for the market to furnish our delicious chocolate preparations. The pods are from ten to twelve inches long and contain many beans; they resemble a musk melon in appearance, and grow from the branches and trunks of the trees.
Nutmegs have proved a success on the Island of Trinidad and would do just as well here. The trees require at least eighty inches of rain annually. They will produce nutmegs in eight to ten years and will then bear and improve for a century. Each tree will yield from one thousand to five thousand nuts in a season, in size varying from sixty-eight to one hundred and twenty in a pound. Tobacco grows well and of good quality at an elevation of from one thousand to two thousand feet. Common and sweet potatoes, yams, beans, breadfruit, squashes, melons, tomatoes, peppers, the _aguacate_, or alligator pear (weighing about a pound), the _granadilla_ (fruit of the passion flower), and many other fruits and vegetables can easily be cultivated at a fair profit.
Japan, India, or Ceylon can furnish nothing more fascinating or stranger in their vegetable kingdom than this favoured land. The fruits are simply wonderful in variety and perfection. The glowing sun and ardent breath of the tropics ask little aid from the hand of man in perfecting their products. One eats eggs, custard and butter off the trees.
The mango is nearly as abundant and prolific as the banana in some places. It grows on a very handsome tree, the leaves being long, lanceolate, polished, and hanging in dense masses of dark-green foliage. In size it is like a full-grown apple tree. The fruit is about the size of an egg plum, and when ripe is yellow in colour and very juicy. They grow in long, pendent branches, and the rich, juicy, golden-meated fruit is not only attractive to the eye, but delightful to the palate.
That great broad-leaved, useful plant so characteristic of the tropics, the banana, grows in great profusion in Guatemala, where there are fully two hundred varieties. Many of them are too delicate for transportation so they will never become a factor in commerce. All through the lowlands of Guatemala and even up to an elevation of two thousand and more feet, the banana is more common than the apple tree in New England; and few indeed are the native shacks in those sections that do not have their banana grove near. The uses of the banana in its natural habitat are so many, and its growth is so exuberant, that it might be classed, with equal propriety, as a weed, a vegetable, or a fruit.
Along the line of the Guatemala Northern Railway and the borders of Lake Izabal, with its connecting streams, are thousands of acres just as well suited to the cultivation of this delicious fruit as the neighbouring republic of Honduras, or more distant Costa Rica. Much of the land belongs to the public domain and can be secured for a small sum, although the first cost probably represents not more than one-third of the investment that will be found necessary. The land must be cleared, although this is a simple matter, for the trees and underbrush are simply left where they fall, as decay is very rapid in this climate; and the banana shoots, called _hijos_, are planted in the midst of the rubbish from twelve to fifteen feet apart. After about nine months the stalk will bear and the bunch of bananas is cut while still green. The parent stalk is cut down and one or more shoots will spring up from the roots which will bear fruit in the same time. Thus a marketable crop is produced each week, bringing in a steady and unceasing revenue.
The banana has a curious and prodigal method of propagation. Even before the fruit of the parent stalk has matured, new stalks begin to spring up from the roots. As this process is repeated indefinitely it follows that unless these surplus stalks are cut out, a banana field would soon become a miniature jungle. Some growers follow the plan of allowing four shoots to grow in one hill, and their gradations are so arranged that while the oldest is bearing fruit the second is in blossom, the third is half-grown, and the fourth is just coming forth from the ground. In the majority of cases a new shoot will spring up from the old stalk if cut near the ground and there is plenty of rain.
The rapidity of growth of this shoot is a marvel of tropical hustling. A prominent naturalist has made a record of the growth during the first few hours which seems almost incredible, but is true. Twenty minutes after the stalk was cut, the new shoot could be seen pushing up from the center of the cut. Eight hours after cutting, the shoot was nearly two feet in height with the leaves forming. Thirty-one hours after cutting there were four well-developed and perfect leaves and the new shoot constituted quite a respectable looking tree. This great rapidity of growth is due to the spirally-wrapped leaves that are contained within the banana stalk, and which are merely pushed upward and unroll. It is a fact that under those circumstances the growth is so rapid that it is almost discernible to the eye. Stalks grown in this way, it is said, seldom bloom or bear fruit.
The requirements for successful cultivation of this fruit are a deep, alluvial soil, and plenty of water either by rain or irrigation. The nature of the soil, however, seems to have less to do with the successful growing of the banana than the amount of rainfall, which should be at least one hundred inches annually, and the temperature, which must be very warm. The best results are obtained near streams, and an occasional overflow is not a disadvantage. About two hundred or two hundred and twenty-five hills to the acre is the usual allowance. The average yield will then be from two hundred and fifty to three hundred bunches of marketable fruit each year. It is practically immune from insect pests, and a worm-eaten banana, or banana stalk, is practically unknown. It is so vigorous that it will hold its own amid all sorts of weeds and climbing vines, although the successful cultivator will keep his fields free from such pests.
A careful writer has said that the same amount of land that will produce enough wheat to support two persons will raise enough bananas to sustain fifty persons. The food value of the banana and plantain, which is larger and perhaps more nutritious than the former, has never been fully exploited. They make an excellent meal which is very nutritious when dried and ground. At the present time most of the profit goes to the transportation company which holds a monopoly of the carrying trade. They are sold to the fruit company for less than half what they are worth in this country. A vessel will carry twenty thousand bunches in addition to a cargo of passengers, and the loss on the fruit does not exceed fifteen per cent. The fact that bananas can not be kept for any length of time, except in cold storage, requires their early marketing; and the further fact that they will not stand much handling requires their shipment in vessels especially constructed for their transportation. These vessels are all owned by one fruit-buying trust. It is no wonder that this monopoly has proved very profitable to its owners. Now that the new railroad is opened up and regular trains are running, this rich banana soil ought to be rapidly developed, since the market for this delicious fruit is constantly increasing and the supply has never yet exceeded the demand. Instead of a million bunches, Guatemala ought to export five or ten million bunches each year.
All over the world the fruits, as well as other articles of the tropics, are coming into greater demand each year. In 1908 the United States imported fruits and other food products of the tropics, not including coffee, to the value of more than two dollars for each man, woman and child in the country. Sugar was by far the largest item on the list, bananas second, and cacao a close rival for that distinction. More than 37,000,000 bunches of bananas were consumed in the United States during that year, an increase of fifty per cent in five years. The general use of the banana is of very recent growth, for it has come into use in Northern climates almost entirely within the last quarter of a century. The Pacific slope of Guatemala, although much less in extent, is far ahead of the Gulf side in cultivation and is far more thickly settled. The chief export from this district is coffee which is cultivated everywhere at an altitude of from one thousand to six thousand feet. The soil is about the same as that of Chiapas, the adjoining Mexican state, which also produces a fine quality of coffee. Thousands of bags of coffee are shipped from the ports of Ocos, Champerico and San Jose, in Guatemala, and San Benito, in Mexico, which is only a few miles from the border. Coffee is not a natural product of this soil, but was first introduced into the New World by a Spanish priest in Guatemala, who obtained the seed in Arabia. It was found adapted to the soil and climate, and coffee is to-day by far the most valuable export, the shipments having reached as high as eighty-five million pounds in one year, worth as much as all other exports together. Most of it is exported to Germany and England, as it is a common saying throughout Mexico and Central America, that only the poor grades of coffee are sent to the greatest coffee-drinking nation in the world—that of Uncle Sam—and the national eagle ought to trail his feathers in the dust at this reflection on his good taste.
A coffee field is a beautiful sight with its shrubs of dark green dotted here and there with the white, fragrant blossoms and the bright, crimson berries which look almost like cherries. It must be remembered that coffee grows on trees, which are set nine or ten feet apart, for the trees will grow twenty feet high if permitted, and ladders are necessary for the pickers. The trees are raised in nurseries and when a few months old are transplanted. It requires a deep soil, careful cultivation, plenty of rain, and shade for the young plants to reach their highest development. The best altitude is from 2,600 feet to 4,500 feet in this climate. On the lower elevations the plants must be shaded, and the banana is generally employed because it also produces a valuable crop and furnishes a revenue while the coffee trees are maturing. Corn may be planted among the trees if one is in a hurry to obtain returns from the land. The trees will produce a profitable crop in from four to six years after transplanting, although coffee two years from the seed is frequently seen. On the higher elevations the plants must be protected from the north winds of December to February, and a site is generally chosen with a range of hills to the north for shelter. The critical period is the blooming season, when a heavy rainfall, while the trees are in flower, washes away the pollen and will prevent fructification. The “cherry” ripens in October, and they are then gathered and “pulped,” after which they are spread out on the great paved yards, with which every finca is supplied, to dry, after which they are separated and hulled, and then stored. After the pulp has been removed coffee is called in _pergamino_; then after the parchment-like covering has been removed, it is in _oro_.
If one feels a decided call to till the soil old Mother Earth will be about as generous to him in coffee culture as in anything. Whatever cultivation one undertakes, he must wait some years to see his money come back. Even if he engages in the raising of cattle, he must wait for the calves to grow, and no calf will grow faster than he pleases, unless you stuff him with expensive grain. With corn, wheat or barley, you must prepare the soil carefully each season, and after the crop is cut and stacked, the land is there again, bare as before. With coffee, after the land is once planted, it does not need replanting for many years.