The Cat-Tail

Teacher’s Story

In June and early July, if the cat-tail be closely observed, it will be seen to have the upper half of the cat’s tail much narrower and different in shape from the lower half—as if it were covered with a quite different fur. It seems to be clothed with a fine drooping fringe of olive-yellow. With the aid of a lens, we can see that this fringe is a mass of crowded anthers, two or three of them being attached to the same stalk by a short filament. These anthers are packed full of pollen, which is sifted down upon the pistillate flowers below by every breeze; and with every puff of stronger wind, the pollen is showered over all neighboring flowers to the leeward. There is not much use in trying to find the pistillate flowers in the plush of the cat-tail. They have no sepals nor petals, and are so imbedded in the thick pappus which forms the plush that the search is hardly worth while for nature-study, unless a microscope is used. The ovary is rather long, the style slender, and the stigma reaches out to the cut-plush surface of the cat-tail. The pupils can find what these flowers are by studying the seed; in fact, the seed does not differ very much from the flower, except that it is mature and is browner in color.

It is an interesting process to take apart a cat-tail plant; the lower, shorter leaves surround the base of the plant, giving it size and strength. All the leaves have the same general shape, but vary in length. Each leaf consists of the free portion, which is long and narrow and flat towards its tapering tip but is bent into a trough as it nears the plant, and the lower portion of the leaf, which clasps the plant entirely or partially, depending upon whether it is an outer or inner leaf, and thus adds to its strength. We almost feel as if these alternate leaves were consciously doing their best to protect the slender, flower stem. The free part of the leaves is strengthened by lengthwise veins, and they form edges that never tear nor break. They are very flexible, and therefore yield to the wind rather than defy it. If we look at a leaf in cross-section, we can see the two thick walls strengthened by the framework of stiff veins which divide the interior into long cells. If we cut the leaf lengthwise we can see that these long cells are supported by stiff, coarse partitions.

Where the leaf clasps the stem, it is very stiff and will break rather than bend. The texture of the leaf is soft and smooth, and its shade of green is attractive. The length of the leaves is often greater than that of the blossom stalk, and their graceful curves contrast pleasantly with its ramrod-like stiffness. It is no wonder that artists and the decorators have used the cat-tail lavishly as a model. It is interesting to note that the only portion of the leaves injured by the wind is the extreme tip.

The cat-tail is adapted for living in swamps where the soil is wet but not under water all the time. When the land is drained, or when it is flooded for a considerable time, the cat-tails die out and disappear. They usually occur in marshy zones along lakes or streams; and such a zone is always sharply defined by dry land on one side and water on the other. The cat-tail roots are fine and fibrous and are especially fitted, like the roots of the tamarack, to thread the mud of marshy ground and thus gain a foothold. The cat-tails form one of the cohorts in the phalanx of encroaching plants, like the reeds and rushes, which surround and, by a slow march of years, finally conquer and dry up ponds. But in this they overdo the matter, since after a time the soil becomes too dry for them and they disappear, giving place to other plants which find there a congenial environment. The place where I studied the cat-tails as a child is now a garden of joe pye weed and wild sunflowers.

Reference—Plant Life, Coulter.