Part 26

Adelina resembles this, but the crimson of the triangle has a deeper tone and the margin is distinctly mauve.

Princess of Wales.--An enormous flower, of remarkable colouring. Sepals and petals purplish. The usual crimson of the lip deepens almost to plum-colour. The margin, paler, is finely frilled.

Juno.--Somewhat pale. Notable for the breadth of crimson in the lip, which mounts far up the throat, running across it from side to side in a line perfectly straight.

Princess May.--A grand variety; the petals spread like birds' wings, and the lip opens very wide. On its folds are broad whitish discolorations, against which the deep crimson of the disc seems even richer than usual.

Her Majesty.--A pink giant, as notable for shape as for size. On the broad lip a crimson cloud stands out against a pale margin, finely frilled.

The edging of the central stand in this house should be noticed. It is formed by a single plant of Pothos aurea, which, starting from the end wall, has already encircled the structure twice. Now it is hurrying to make a third turn. Pothos is the neatest of climbers, pushing no side-shoots, growing very fast, and thrusting forth its large leaves at equal intervals. The variety aurea is touched with gold here and there, and to my mind it makes the ideal edging of a stand.

To right in this house is Cattleya Lawrenceana, of which we have probably 150 plants. This again is a species threatened with extinction--indeed the threat is very near fulfilment. It was never common in its native woods. I may quote a few lines from the report of Mr. Seyler who went to collect this, and two other orchids which dwell on the Roraima Mountain, for Mr. Sander; the date is January 19, 1893:--

'... I collected everything at Roraima except Catt. Lawrenceana, which was utterly rooted out already by other collectors.... We hunted all about for Catt. Lawrenceana and got only 1500 or so, it growing only here and there.... What I want to point out to you is that Catt. Lawrenceana is very rare in the interior now.... If you want to get any Lawrenceana you will have to send yourself, and, as I said to you, the results will be very doubtful.'

The variety Macfarlanei has rosy pink sepals; petals of club shape, bowed, crimson, deepening towards the tips. Labellum long, narrow, all crimson of the darkest shade.

Noteworthy is a plant which we may suppose a natural hybrid of L. purpurata with L. elegans, resembling the latter in size, comparatively small, as in its narrow sepals and petals flushed with rose. The lip is very bright and pretty, with large clear yellow throat, ringed with white; the disc, of lively crimson, has a purple margin finely frilled, and a whitish purple patch in front.

Among miscellaneous examples here is a handsome specimen of Cymbidium Devonianum, and a very remarkable hybrid of Catt. Gaskelliana × Catt. Harrisoniae--Mary Measures; rather ghostly but pleasant to look upon. Its colour of sepal and petal is palest mauve, the tube prettily lined and mottled with pale yellow; labellum, gamboge-yellow in the throat, fading towards the edge, and a pale crimson tip.

A STORY OF BRASSAVOLA DIGBYANA

Brassavola Digbyana is a flower for all tastes--large, stately, beautiful, and supremely curious; I use the familiar name, though it should be Laelia Digbyana. Charming are the great sepals and petals, greenish white, around the snowy lip; but why, the thoughtful ask in vain, does that lip ravel out into a massive fringe, branched and interlacing, near an inch wide? The effect is lovely, but the purpose inscrutable. In Dendrobium Brymerianum we find a puzzle exactly similar. But it does not help us to understand. Countless are the species of Dendrobium, many those of Laelia; but in each case no other shows this peculiarity.

Brassavola Digbyana was first sent to Europe in 1845 by the Governor of British Honduras, who named it in honour of his kinsman, Lord Digby. Once only had the plant been received since that time, so far as I can learn, until last year. But the second cargo, in 1879, 'went a very long way.' Messrs. Stevens have rarely been so embarrassed with treasures. The history of that prodigious consignment is worth recording.

It was despatched by Messrs. Brown, Ponder, and Co., of Belize, who dealt in mahogany and logwood--do still, I hope. That trade appears to be rather interesting. The merchant keeps a gang of Caribs, who have been in the employment of the firm all their lives perhaps. They go out at the proper season to find and mark the trees; fell them presently and return whilst the timber is drying; or amuse themselves in the bush, hunting and gathering miscellaneous produce. Then they float the raft down to Belize.

These Caribs are more or less descended from the Indians of Jamaica. Early in the last century the British Government collected the survivors of that hapless race, and planted them out of harm's way in the Island of St. Vincent, uninhabited at the time. They did not thrive, however, and in 1796 the Government transported them once more to the Island of Roatan, in the Bay of Honduras.

But an extraordinary change had come over the poor creatures. We are to suppose that when landed at St. Vincent their type was mostly if not wholly Indian; when taken away it was to all appearance negro. Probably a slave ship had been wrecked there, and the blacks, escaping, killed all the male Indians, taking the women to wife; such is the theory, but there is no record. A transformation so sudden and complete in such brief time is striking evidence of the African vigour, for in hair, features, complexion, and build the Carib is a negro.

But not in character. He has virtues to which neither red man nor black lay claim--industry, honesty, truthfulness, staunch fidelity to his engagements and readiness to combine. The mahogany cutters have a Guild, which holds itself responsible for the failure of any member to execute work for which he has been paid; it cannot be called a Trade Union, because, so far as I learn, it has no other purpose--except jollification. In brief, the Carib of Honduras is one of the best fellows on earth in his way. He looks down on all about him, negro and Indian and 'poor white.' If a stranger suspect him of trickery, he thinks it defence enough to exclaim--'Um Carib man, sah!' And so it is, as a rule.

Messrs. Brown Ponder had lately taken on a new hand--let us call him Sam. This young fellow had been wandering up and down the coast some years, doing any honest work that turned up. Thus he had served in the boat's crew of M. Sécard, when that gentleman was collecting orchids in Guiana. The experience had taught him that flowers have value, and he returned from his first visit to the bush, after entering the firm's service, with the announcement of a marvel. We may fancy the report which negro imagination would draw of Brassavola Digbyana. The mysterious fringe did not puzzle Sam at all. It was long enough to serve the purpose of chevaux de frise, to keep off monkeys and birds! M. Sécard used to give him a dollar apiece for things not to be compared with it! In short, here was a fortune for the gathering--and what terms would Mr. Brown offer him?

Mr. Brown offered nothing at all. Residents in Honduras are curiously apathetic about orchids even now. I think it may be said that no collector has visited their country, which is the explanation perhaps. Moreover, Mr. Brown well knew the liveliness of the Carib imagination. Sam had met with only one or two belated flowers, which he displayed. But the shapeless little cluster of withered petals was no evidence of beauty--quite the reverse. Everybody cut his jokes upon it.

It might be supposed that a man would carry his wares to another market under such circumstances. But that is not the Carib way; it would be a breach of loyalty. Good-naturedly Sam told Mr. Brown that he was a fool, with an adjective for emphasis. They were all adjective fools, he assured them daily. But to treat with a rival could not enter his mind.

The gang had returned to the bush when young Mr. Ponder came back from Bluefields. His partner mentioned Sam's idea as a jest in conversation when several friends were present. One of them recalled how Governor Digby had sent some orchids to Europe ages ago, which sold for a mint of money. Others had heard something of the legend. Ponder, young and enterprising, inclined to think the matter worth notice. He inquired among the oldest inhabitants, Carib and negro. Many recollected the Governor's speculation, and the orchid also, when pressed. It was as big as a bunch of bananas, blue--no, red--no, yellow; shaped just like a boat, or a bird, or a star, or a monkey climbing a tree, and so forth. But all agreed about the fringe, 'now you come to mention it.' Ponder saw they knew nothing beyond the mere fact. But he made up his mind to get some specimens next rainy season, and judge for himself whether a consignment would be likely to pay.

In due time the cutters appeared with their rafts of timber. It was not the moment to broach an unfamiliar subject. Calculations awfully intricate for those honest fellows had to be made intelligible to them once more, and then to be discussed, approved, explained again, and finally accepted or compromised. The Caribs passed all day in argument and in measuring the logs over and over; all night in working sums of arithmetic on fingers and toes. At length the amount due was computed amicably, as usual, and paid. But then, not without embarrassment, the whole gang, 'gave notice.'

When such an event occurs, under such circumstances, an employer knows the reason. His Caribs have found gold. There is nothing to be said beyond wishing them luck. But Mr. Ponder asked Sam to get him a few of his orchids next rains. Sam declined, somewhat roughly. Mr. Ponder laid the dispute before the Guild, so to call it, which pronounced that Sam must carry out his proposal before leaving the firm's service.

The dry season was well advanced by this time, and all flowers had withered. Nevertheless Sam jumped into a canoe, swearing, and started up the river with a couple of Indians. In three or four days he returned with a boat-load of orchids, sent them to the warehouse, and vanished. They proved to be a miscellaneous collection, all sorts and sizes; evidently the men had just gathered anything they came across.

Mr. Ponder grew angry. It was an impudent trick, a defiance of himself and the Guild, such as no true Carib would be guilty of. Foreign travel had demoralised Sam. Those honest fellows, his partners, would be not less indignant, if the shameful proceeding could be laid before them. But all had gone up the river--to their gold-field, of course--and no one knew where that might be. Mr. Ponder got more and more warm as he revolved the insult. Business was slack. He decided to follow, and sent out forthwith to engage a crew of Indians; gold-diggers do not mind the intrusion of Indians so much, for when these savages have obtained a very little dust, they withdraw to turn it into drink. And they never chatter. Moreover he had to find the Caribs' camp, and they are sleuth-hounds.

The search was not so hopeless as it might seem. Carefully reviewing the circumstances, Mr. Ponder felt sure that his Caribs had discovered their placer whilst collecting the felled trees--not before; that is, in the rainy season. Men would not wander far into the bush at that time. Probably, therefore, the scene lay pretty close to one or other of the spots where they had found mahogany. Of those spots he had a minute description.

The reasoning proved to be quite correct, but luck interposed before it had been severely tested. On arrival at one of the stations to be explored--after a week or ten days' voyaging, as I imagine--he saw a canoe just pushing out from beneath the wooded bank with two of the missing Caribs therein, going to Belize on some errand. Their astonishment was loud, but not angry; they had no quarrel with Mr. Ponder. After a very little hesitation they consented to lead him to the camp, the Indians remaining in their boat.