Part 35

Smidt gasped. It was a lump of gold as big as his two fists.

'Is this--is this mine?'

The chief sat down to laugh and rolled about, spluttering Chinese interjections.

'Is this mine? He-he-he-he! Mine? This gold, sir! Kunsi take gold--all gold here! You says, mine, sir? Ha! ha! ha!'

Smidt did not feel assured of his legal rights.

'You took it from Ahtan?' he asked. 'Did you arrest him?'

The chief had another fit. Recovering, he answered, 'Ahtan down this way,' and stamped upon the ground.

'In the cellar? Oh, that's a comfort! I'll carry him to Kuching to-morrow.'

This caused another outburst of merriment. 'I tell, sir, I Tuan magistrate at Bau. Ahtan he under order for kingdom come to-night.'

This was rather shocking. 'Oh, I don't ask that. He must be tried.'

'What your matter, sir?' the chief snapped out. 'I try him, and I say die! Ahtan is Kunsi man. He play trick before--I let him go. We catch him on river with gold. He die this time.'

Doubtless he did--not for attempted murder, but for breaking his oath to the Kunsi. Smidt ought to have denounced this monstrous illegality to the Rajah. But his firm did a great business with Chinamen, and their secret societies have a very long arm. I imagine that he held his tongue.

STORY OF CYPRIPEDIUM SPICERIANUM

The annals of Cypripedium Spicerianum open in 1878, when Mrs. Spicer, a lady residing at Wimbledon, asked Messrs. Veitch to come and see a curious flower, very lovely, as she thought, which had made its appearance in her green-house. Messrs. Veitch came; with no extravagant hopes perhaps, for experience might well make them distrustful of feminine enthusiasm. But in this instance it was more than justified, and, in short, they carried off the marvel, leaving a cheque for seventy guineas behind. I may remark that Cypripeds are easy to cultivate. They are also quick to increase. Messrs. Veitch hurried their specimen along, and divided it as fast as was safe. To say that the morsels fetched their weight in gold would be the reverse of exaggeration--mere bathos.

Importers sat up. They were not without a hint to direct their search in this case. The treasure had arrived amongst a quantity of Cyp. insigne. Therefore it must be a native of the Himalayan region--Assam, Darjeeling, or Sikkim, no doubt. There are plenty of persons along that frontier able and willing to hunt up a new plant. A good many of them probably received commissions to find Cypripedium Spicerianum.

At St. Albans they were more deliberate. It is not exactly usual for ladies residing at Wimbledon to receive consignments of orchids. When such an event happens, one may conclude that they have relatives or intimate friends in the district where those orchids grow; it will hardly be waste of time anyhow to inquire. A discreet investigation proved that this lady's son was a tea-planter, with large estates on the confines of Bhutan. With the address in his pocket Mr. Forstermann, a collector of renown, started by next mail.

Orchids must be classed with ferae naturae in which a landowner has no property. But it is not to be supposed that a man of business will tell the casual inquirer where to pick up, on his own estate, weeds worth seventy guineas each. Forstermann did not expect it. Leaving his baggage at the dak bungalow, he strolled afoot to the large and handsome mansion indicated. Mr. Spicer was sitting in the verandah, and in the pleasant, easy way usual with men who very rarely see a white stranger of respectable appearance, he shouted:

'Are you looking for me, sir? Come up!'

Forstermann went up, took an arm-chair and a cheroot, accepted a comforting glass, and sketched his experiences of the road before declaring even his name. Then he announced himself as an aspirant tea-planter, desirous to gain some practical knowledge of the business before risking his very small capital. In short, could Mr. Spicer give him a 'job'?

'I'm afraid not,' said Mr. Spicer. 'We have quite as many men in your position as we can find work for. But anyhow you can look round and talk to our people and see whether the life is likely to suit you. Meantime, you're very welcome to stay here as my guest. If you've brought a gun, my manager will show you some sport; but he's away just now. Oh, you needn't thank me. In my opinion it's the duty of men who have succeeded to help beginners along, and I'm sorry I can't do more for you.'

Forstermann remembers a twinge of conscience here. It may be indubitable that orchids are ferae naturae. But they have a distinct money value for all that, and to remove them from the estate of a man who gives you a reception like this! Anyhow, he felt uncomfortable. But to find the thing was his first duty. Possibly some arrangement might be made, though he could not imagine how.

The invitation was accepted, of course, and a week passed very pleasantly. But Forstermann could not bring his host to the point desired. Several times they observed Cypripedium insigne whilst riding or driving about the neighbourhood. Mr. Spicer even remarked, when his attention was called to it, that he had sent a number of plants home; but nothing followed. Then the manager returned, and the same night an appointment was made to go after duck on the morrow.

Forstermann turned out at dawn, but his companion was not ready. He gave the explanation as they rode along.

'We had another chelan last night--you have learnt the meaning of that word, I daresay!--a faction fight among our people. The coolies on this estate come mostly from Chota Nagpore, and thereabouts. They're good workers, and not so troublesome as regular Hindus when once they've settled down. But there's generally a bother when a new gang arrives. We tell our agents to be very careful in recruiting none but friendly clans. Young Mice and Fig Leaves we find best among the Oraons, Stars and Wild Geese among the Sonthals.' Forstermann was puzzled, but he did not interrupt. 'It's no use, however. They take any fellow that comes along--and between ourselves, you know, considering how many of those scamps bolt with the contract-money and never enlist a soul, we haven't so very much to complain of. It's a bad system, sir!

'Well, when they get here, a mixed lot, they find half a dozen mixed lots established. We have, to my knowledge,' reckoning on his fingers, 'Tortoises, Tigers, Crows, Eels, Grass-spiders, Fishing-nets--ay, and a lot more, besides Stars and Wild-geese. Of course, they quarrel at sight, and we don't interfere unless the chelan gets serious. What's the good? But, besides that, there is a standing provocation, as you may say. Some of our coolies have been with us many years. They don't care to go home--for reasons good, no doubt, but it's not our business. Well, two of these fellows have married--one, a Potato, has married the Stomach of a pig----'

'Eh?' Forstermann could not contain himself.

'Those are their families, you know.' The manager, quite grave hitherto, laughed out suddenly. 'Of course, it seems mighty droll to you, but we're accustomed to it. Each clan claims to be descended from the thing after which it is named. You mustn't ask me how the Stomach of a pig can have children. That's beyond our understanding. The point is that certain of these stocks may not intermarry under pain of death--that's their law. So you may fancy the rumpus when strange Potatoes arriving here find one of their breed----' he laughed again. 'It does sound funny, when you think of it! Last night, however, when the usual disturbance broke out--a new gang arrived yesterday, you know--Minjar, the Eel, who is the other fellow that has married some girl he ought not to, declared he had made blood-brotherhood with the chief of the Bhutias across the river, who would come to avenge him if he were hurt. And I fancy that's not quite such nonsense as you would think. I saw Minjar there that time I got the orchid----'

Forstermann heard no more of the tale. The orchid! They reached the pool, and he shot ducks conscientiously, but his thoughts were busy in devising means to lead the conversation back to that point.