Part 27

It was not a long walk, nor uncomfortable. A broad path had been cut to the top of the ridge, for hauling down the trunks, and the rollers had smoothed it like a highway; but not so broad that the great trees on either hand failed to overshadow it. Mr. Ponder questioned his guides laughingly. Was it a real good placer, with nuggets in it?--how much had they pouched, and was the game likely to last? They grinned and patted their waist-scarves, which, as he now remarked, were round and plump as monster sausages.

'Oh, I know that trick,' laughed Mr. Ponder. 'You've filled them with maize-flour for your journey.'

They whooped and roared with triumph. 'Say, Mis'r George, you tell nobody--honour bright?-not nobody?' One of them turned down the edge of his scarf, with no small effort--for it was twisted very tightly and secured. Presently the contents glimmered into sight--little golden figures, mostly flat, carved or moulded, one to three inches long. 'Our placer all nuggets, Mis'r George!'

Any child in those seas would have understood. The Caribs had discovered not a washing nor a mine, but a burial-ground of the old Indians, called in those parts a 'huaco.' There are men who make it their sole business to look for such treasure-heaps. Since they bear, in general, no outward indication whatsoever at the present time, one would think that the hunt must be desperate; but these men, like other gamblers, have their 'system.' Possibly they have noted some rules which guided the antique people in their choice of a cemetery. And if they find one in a lifetime--provided they can keep the secret--that suffices.

Mostly, perhaps, huacos are discovered by accident. So it was in the memorable instance on Chiriqui lagoon, where many thousand people dug for months and many brought away a fortune--for them. And so it was here. The Caribs told their story gleefully. From the crest of the ridge the land sloped gently down towards a stream. When they reached this place to secure the timber, now dry, the rains were very heavy. But Sam and another, heaven-directed, roamed down the slope. A big tree had fallen, and among its roots Sam's lynx eyes marked a number of the little figures, washed clean, sparkling in the sun-rays. These good fellows have no secrets of the sort among themselves. They dug around, assured themselves that it was indubitably a huaco; then returned, like honest Caribs, to float the trunks down to Belize, and fulfil their contract, before attending to personal interests.

They had cleared a space and built a hut of boughs, a 'ramada.' There Mr. Ponder found them assembled, smoking and sleeping after the mid-day meal. Warned by the guide's cheery shout they welcomed Mis'r George heartily--all but Sam; unanimously they asked, however, what on earth he wanted there, so far from home? Mr. Ponder told his complaint.

The gang resolved itself into a sort of court-martial forthwith, the eldest seating himself upon a stump and the others grouping round. There was a moment's silence for thought; then the president, gravely:

'You, Carib Sam, what you say?'

'Say d---- sorry, sah! Mis'r Brown an' all the Mis'rs make fool of me! Then Mis'r George come--I never see Mis'r George before! He says go to bush an' pick orchid--a month contract!--a month! But I found gold here, an' I want pick it up--have no more say! d---- sorry!'

Mr. Ponder relented. 'Why didn't you explain at the time, Sam?--I'm quite satisfied, Caribs! Sam and I will shake hands and there's an end of it!'

But the others were not quite satisfied. The president sat shaking his head. 'When rains come,' said Sam to him anxiously, 'I get Mis'r George two canoe-loads, six canoe-loads of orchid, an' no mistake!'

'There, men! That's final! Let's shake hands round, and wash away all unpleasantness--here's the wash!--drink it up! Now will you show me your huaco?'

First they showed him the plunder--hundreds of those little images, mostly human, in the rudest style of art, but pure gold; a large proportion alligators, some probably meant for birds, not a few mere lumps. Mr. Ponder calculated rapidly that the whole might represent three thousand pounds for division among ten men. But the Caribs began to fear that their huaco would prove to be a very small one. The yield had been failing in all directions lately. They had prospected round, but hitherto without success. No bones, nor weapons, nor anything but a few jars of pottery had been found. Such is the rule--without exception, I believe--in burial-grounds of this class, without cairn or statues; in fact, it is a mere assumption to declare them burial-grounds at all. Men who dug at Chiriqui told me that nothing whatever besides gold was found in that great area. The statement is not quite exact, but it shows how little turned up.

The forebodings of the Caribs were sadly verified. Mr. Ponder started back in the afternoon and they followed within a week--'made men' if they had wit enough to keep their booty, but not so rich as they had hoped.

Next rains Sam loyally performed his promise. And thus it happened that Messrs. Stevens were overwhelmed with Brassavola Digbyana once upon a time.

LYCASTES, SOBRALIAS, AND ANGOULOAS

occupy different compartments in one house. The first will not detain us. All the species which orchidists, in a lordly way, term common are represented here--of course, by their best varieties. I can fancy the wonder and delight of a stranger entering when the Lycastes Skinneri alba and virginalis are in bloom, remembering my own emotion at the spectacle elsewhere. Not many of the genus appeal to the aesthetic, and Skinneri in especial lacks grace. But unsymmetrical form and abrupt rigidity of growth are forgotten when those great flowers, so pure, so divinely white, burst upon the eye. Charming also are the pale varieties of Skinneri, such as Lady Roberts, a dainty rose, the petals only just dark enough to show up the labellum almost white; and Phyllis of somewhat deeper rose. Its velvety lip has a crimson margin well displayed by a small white patch upon the disc.

Leucantha, dainty green with white petals, is charming; a pan of aromatica with fifty or sixty delicate golden blooms makes a pretty show. But these things do not call for special notice.

There are varieties, however, of course, as the famous Lycaste plana Measuresiana, coppery, shining, with pure white petals, crimson spotted, and small white lip; plana lassioglossa, olive green of sepal and petal, with a bright rusty stain at the base; lip white, with conspicuous white spots.

Fulvescens.--Large and spreading. Sepals and petals reddish orange, lip clear brightest orange, so lightly poised that it quivers at a breath. It has as many as forty flowers from one bulb sometimes.

Denningiana.--Very large. Sepals and petals whitish green, lip brown.

Mooreana.--An extraordinary variety of L. Locusta, which itself is extraordinary enough. Reichenbach described Locusta in his lively way: 'Green sepals, green petals, green lip, green callus, green ovary, green bract, green sheath, green peduncle, green bulbs, green leaves--just as green as a green grasshopper or the dress of some Viennese ladies.' Mooreana is larger, and the heavy fringe of the lip has a faint yellow shade.

SOBRALIAS

It may be granted that all classes of orchid are not equally beautiful, but to compare one with another in this point of view is futile. Each has its own charm which individual taste may prefer, and to set Cattleyas, for instance, above Odontoglots is only to demonstrate that for some persons size and brilliancy of hue are more attractive than grace and purity. But in any competition of the sort Sobralias must rank high. They are all large, they have every fascination which colour can give, and the delicate crumpling of the lip, characteristic of this genus alone, is one of Nature's subtlest devices. Gardeners also approve them, for they need less attention perhaps than any others, and they grow fast. The sagacious reader will begin to ask by this time what are the disadvantages to set against all these merits? There is only one, but for too many amateurs it is fatal--the glorious flowers last scarcely two days. Certainly a spike will carry four or five, or even six, which open one after another. But then all is over till next year. And the plants are big, occupying much room. Therefore Sobralias are not favoured by the wise, when space is limited.

All are American, growing among the rocks and in the scanty soil of mountain districts. One reads of species so tall that a man on horseback must raise his arm to pick the flowers. This may be an exaggeration, but we have Sobralia macrantha gigas here six feet high, and Hookerae even topping it. Upon the other hand, that marvel, Kienastiana, has a very modest stature. Nearly all the species known are here--it is not a large genus: Lindeni, Hookerae, Lowii, macrantha and macrantha alba, xantholeuca, and Kienastiana, which has its story.

Measuresiana is uncommon; white, an immense flower. The vast lip, circular, daintily crumpled, is palest pink, with a deep yellow throat, round which the pink darkens to pale crimson. Sanderae also is white, faintly tinged with yellow.

In these days, however, it is the hybrids which interest us, and there are two of surpassing merit.

Amesiana (xantholeuca × Wilsonii).--Palest rosy lilac, somewhat more rosy in the centre--the crumpled pink lip is as round and as big as a crown piece. The cavity of the throat, orange, changes to gamboge as it widens; encircling this is a stain of tawny crimson. Lip rose, shaded with reddish brown.