So a week pa.s.sed; etiquette was satisfied, and Tamawan invited him to open his bales. The chiefs squatted in a semi-circle, all the population behind, in delicious expectancy. The jars were brought forth--first a Gusi, the costliest species, worth 300 to 1000 in 'produce,' among the Dyaks, had it only been genuine. This Williams presented, with an air, to Tamawan. The chief glanced at it, observed with Kayan frankness that for his own part he liked brighter colours, and, so to speak, called for the next article. Williams grasped the fatal truth when he saw how carelessly his precious Gusi was regarded, not by Tamawan alone but by all. Hoping against hope, however, he brought forth a Naga--a Rusa. The chiefs became impatient. 'Show your good trade, Tuan,' they said. Perhaps it was lucky that he had some miscellaneous 'notions'; but there was only enough to make the needful presents.

Utter collapse! The foolish fellow had not thought of asking whether Kayans valued these unlovely jars. Perhaps the Brunei n.o.bles could not have told him, but Nakodah Rahim must have been perfectly well aware. By keeping silence he had transported a cargo of his own goods to Langusan at Williams' expense--without freight or charges! The victim could not quite restrain his anger, but it would have been madness to quarrel. He had indeed several Malays, perhaps trusty. But the crew outnumbered them, and the Kayans doubtless would back the Nakodah. There was nothing to be done but wait, with as much good temper as he could summon, until that worthy had sold out. During this time Williams hunted, explored the woods, and collected a variety of plants, some of which we do not recognise from the description. But among those he brought to Singapore was Coelogyne speciosa.

Meantime sickness attacked the crew, whilst Williams' servants escaped it.

The Nakodah hurried his sales, but when he was ready to start, it became necessary to engage some of the latter, with their master's consent, for navigating the vessel; but for this mischance there would have been no need to ask the white man's co-operation in a little stroke of business.

At each of the festivities Williams had remarked a very pretty girl always in attendance on the chief k.u.m Palan. Charming faces are common among those people, and graceful figures a matter of course. Kayan maidens do not pull out their eyebrows, nor blacken their teeth, nor shave the top of the head, nor, in fact, practise any of the disfigurements which spoil Dyak beauty; for their tattooing, though elaborate, is all below the waist. Most of them even do not chew betel before marriage, and you hardly find one of these whose teeth are not a faultless row of pearls. Cool scrutiny reveals that their noses are too flat and their mouths unsymmetrical. But the girl would have a mane of l.u.s.trous hair decked with flowers, restrained by a snowy fillet over the brow, streaming loose down her back. Her skin would be pale golden bronze and her eyes worthy of the tenderest epithets. Even a chief's daughter wears little clothing beyond armlets and waist-belt of gold, white sh.e.l.l, and antique beads, as mysterious and as costly in proportion as the Dyak jars. Only a silken kerchief, clasping one thigh in studied folds, gathered and tucked in over the other, would represent what we call dress; but the tattooing from waist to knee is so close that feminine limbs seem to be enveloped in black tights.

Williams learned that this beauty was daughter to k.u.m Palan. Parent and child must be warmly attached, he thought, for she was always near him.

Other chiefs had pretty daughters, but they received no such attention.

The girl looked sad, but that is frequent with Kayan and Dyak maidens, when, in truth, their souls are dancing with fun and devilment--a mere expression of the features.

Nakodah Rahim's secret concerned this damsel--Kilian by name. She was in love with a youth, Nikput, popular and distinguished--he had taken heads already--but not yet in the position which k.u.m Palan's son-in-law ought to occupy. Other suitors did not come forward, however, for the eldest son of Tamawan, the Great Chief, entertained for the youth one of those romantic friendships common among warriors in Borneo. Tamawan could not interfere, but there was a general impression that he would not feel kindly towards the man who robbed Nikput of his bride. k.u.m Palan resented this state of things. He feared an elopement, and with good reason, for that was the little stroke of business which the Nakodah proposed. Nikput offered fair terms. All was arranged. On the morrow early the prau was to start, dropping down stream. It would anchor for the night, as usual, at a certain spot, and there the lovers would come on board, having taken such steps as should lead the pursuing parent in another direction. Nikput had a friend among the Milanaus lower down. When the disaster was beyond remedy, Tamawan would compel his subordinate to be reconciled. Would the Tuan object to this little speculation?

That the villain intended from the first to murder Nikput and kidnap his bride is certain. He declared at his trial that Williams had been his accomplice, and on this account Sir Spencer St. John held an inquiry.

There was no shadow of evidence; the charge is grotesque. But it may possibly be that Williams exacted a share of the gold which Nikput agreed to pay.

All went well. At the time and place appointed, in pitch darkness, a canoe grated softly against the vessel's side--a few whispers pa.s.sed--and Kilian climbed aboard. But, as it turned out, she was not wearing only a few ornaments and a kerchief. All the family jewels, so to speak, hung about her pretty figure. She was swathed in silk, garment over garment. And Nikput handed up several baskets that must have been a very heavy load even for his stalwart frame. They had looted the paternal treasure at the Nakodah's suggestion.

Next day pa.s.sed without alarm; there are only farmhouses and villages, where a trader need not stop, between Langusan and the Brunei frontier.

The fugitives remained below in the tiny cabin, amidst such heat and such surroundings that those who know may shudder to think of their situation.

After dark, however, they came up, and, until he fell asleep, doubtless, Williams heard their murmuring and low happy laughter. On the morrow they would be safe.

A terrible cry awoke him--screams and trampling on the palm-leaf deck; then a great splash. Dawn was breaking, but the mists are so dense at that hour that the Malays call it white darkness. The sounds of struggle and the girl's wild shrieks directed him; but at the first movement he was borne backwards and overthrown by a press of men stumbling through the fog, with Kilian writhing and screaming in their midst. They tossed her down into the hold and threw themselves upon him, his own servants foremost. Perhaps these saved him from the fate of poor Nikput. What could he do?--he had no arms. They swore him to silence. But in that b.l.o.o.d.y realm of Brunei to whom should a wise man complain?

All that day and the next Kilian's shrieks never ceased. 'She will go mad,' Williams cried pa.s.sionately; the Nakodah smiled. When her raving clamour was interrupted--died down to silence--they brought her on deck, a piteous spectacle. I have not to pain myself and my readers by imagining the contrast with the bright and lovely girl we saw a week ago.

They reached the capital, and Williams fled; of his after life I know only that he sold some orchids in Singapore. Happily the tale does not end here.

The crime would have pa.s.sed unknown or unnoticed, like others innumerable of its sort in Brunei, had not Kilian avenged her own wrongs. She was raving mad for a while, but such a prize was worth nursing. Gradually she recovered her beauty and so much of her wits that the Nakodah sold her for a great sum to one of the richest n.o.bles. A few days after, perhaps the same day, she stabbed this man and threw him from a window into the river--possibly with some distracted recollection of her lover's fate. The Nakodah was seized and others. All the horrid story came out. They were executed, and the Sultan restored their victim--quite mad now--to her father. But on the way she leapt overboard.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CATTLEYA l.a.b.i.aTA. VAR. MEASURESIANA.]

CATTLEYA l.a.b.i.aTA HOUSE

This is the oldest of Cattleyas, for the plant now recognised as Catt.

Loddigesii, which was introduced to Europe a few years earlier, pa.s.sed under the name of Epidendrum. One might call l.a.b.i.ata the 'eponymous hero'

of its tribe, for Lindley christened it in honour of his friend Mr.

Cattley, an enthusiastic amateur of Barnet. This was in 1818; from that year until 1889 Cattleya l.a.b.i.ata was lost. It seemed easy enough to follow the journeyings of Swainson, who discovered it, and so reach the country where it dwelt; collectors innumerable made the attempt, but never succeeded. Mr. Sander, for instance, sent three at different times, expressly to trace Swainson's footsteps so far as they are recorded--Oversluys, Smith, and Bestwood; beside four others who skirmished along the track. He a.s.sured himself that they had explored every district which Swainson could possibly have visited; but of Cattleya l.a.b.i.ata they found no sign. Meanwhile the plants of the first importation died off gradually, and the richest of mortals competed for the few surviving. Ten years ago, when the long search came to an end, very few were the persons in England who owned a specimen. I think I can name most of them--Baron Schroder, Sir Trevor Lawrence, Lord Rothschild, Duke of Marlborough, Lord Home, Lord Howe, Messrs. J. Chamberlain, Statter, R. H.

Measures, R. I. Measures, Blandy, Hardy, Coleman, and Smith of the Isle of Wight. One of the examples possessed by Mr. R. H. Measures belonged to the variety Pescatorei, named after General Pescatore, the same leading amateur of early days whose memory is kept green by the sweetest of Odontoglossums, saving crispum. Cattleya l.a.b.i.ata Pescatorei was a precious treasure then; 'none so poor as do it reverence' in this generation. The plant is still here, pretty enough so far as it goes, slightly distinguished by a silver edging to the petals.

The puzzle of that first consignment has not been explained--we have only eluded it, like Alexander at Gordium. Certainly Swainson did not find his plants in the neighbourhood where they exist at this time. It is conjectured that there were woods close to Rio, now cultivated ground, where it flourished at the beginning of the century. However, in 1889, Cattleya l.a.b.i.ata reappeared; oddly enough a collector of insects found it originally, and a collector of insects rediscovered it. The 'professionals' were beaten to the last.

And now it has become almost the commonest of orchids; but for the same reason we may be sure that it will grow scarce again in no long time. Not to England only but to France, Belgium, Germany, the United States, such vast quant.i.ties have been consigned that to one who knows something of the facts it seems amazing that the limited area could furnish so many. And for one that reaches the market three, perhaps six, die.

I have alluded to the extermination of orchids already. It is a sadly fascinating subject for those who think, and 'out of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh.' The time is very close when Odontoglossum crispum, most heavenly of created things, will arrive by tens and units instead of myriads--and then will arrive not at all. Already a gentleman who boasts that he has leased the whole district where the 'Pacho' form still survives, reckons the number of plants remaining at 60,000 only.

Some months ago he issued quaint proposals for a Company (limited) to secure the utmost profit on the collection of these. Business men 'smiled and put the question by,' however enthusiastic they might be as orchidists; but I believe that the statement of facts was not altogether inaccurate. It is no longer worth while to send out collectors of Odontoglossum crispum; natives of the country gather such as they find and store them until the opportunity occurs to sell a dozen or so.

I could give other instances; some have been already mentioned. But what is the use? Unless governments interfere, there is no remedy. Some indeed have taken steps. Several years ago the Rajah of Sarawak decreed that no one should collect orchids in his territory, for sale, without a license.

The exportation of Dendrobium Macarthiae from Ceylon is forbidden, and the authorities of Capetown have made stringent rules about gathering Disa grandiflora. But I have heard of no other restrictions, and these, commendable as they are, scarcely touch the mischief. But that is enough upon a melancholy subject, with which I have no need to meddle here.

In this house and elsewhere we have some eleven hundred l.a.b.i.atas. No Cattleya is more variable. From white to deep crimson every shade of colour may be found, with endless diversities of combination. Here are a few of the most important.

_Imperatrix._--Rosy mauve. Distinguished by a broad fringe of the same colour round the lip, which, inside, shows a fine crimson. Next to it is one, unnamed, which makes a good contrast. Very big and broad; pale. The tube, opening wide, is superbly striped with crimson over a gold ground.

The great lip all crimson.

_n.o.bilis._--Big and evenly rosy. The gold in the throat is faint, and the lip, grandly frilled, has no lines.

_Measuresiana._--Somewhat pale; at base of the petals the midrib is white.

The gamboge stain does not spread beyond the throat, and it fades to white as the crimson lip spreads. Another has a deep golden throat, but the crimson of the lip is only a triangle, dispersing in broad lines upon the margin of mauve.

But here is one, on the contrary, in which the lip is all deepest crimson except a very narrow edging of white. Scarcely a trace of gold is seen; the crimson stretches back all up the throat in heavy lines.

And here again is one of palest rose, in which the lip carries only a single slender touch of crimson.

_Sanderae._--A supreme beauty. Sepals almost white, petals somewhat more deeply tinged with mauve. Lip snow-white, saving the ochreous-orange throat and a lovely stain of crimson lake in the midst; with a purple blotch above and mottled lines of the same hue descending from it.

_Mrs. R. H. Measures._--Purest white. The broad lower sepals curl downwards, almost encircling the lip, which has a faintly-yellow throat and a tender cloud of purplish crimson on the front, scored with three strong lines of purple.

_Macfarlanei._--Crimson purple sepals and petals of the brightest tint; lip crimson-maroon and orange throat striped with brilliant crimson--a superb flower.

_Baroness Schroder._--A famous variety. The petals are remarkably wide and graceful in shape, pale mauve of colour. The lip, somewhat paler, tinged with rose, shows in front a bundle of purple lines, as it were, the ends of which diverge from a purplish cloud over the rosy margin.

_Princesse de Croix._--All pink except the white edges of the lip unrolling from the tube, and a small purple blur, scored with short heavy lines, which runs far up the throat, leaving a broad pink disc below.

_Alba._--Perfectly beautiful. All ivory white, as it seems at a glance, save a faint stain of yellow in the throat; but close scrutiny detects a purple tinge also on the lip.

_Archd.u.c.h.ess._--The shape is even more graceful than usual. Sepals and very broad leaf-like petals rosy mauve, the yellow of the throat subdued, a fine patch of crimson lake on the labellum, with darker lines, leaving a wide margin of rosy mauve.

_Robin Measures._--Rosy. The lip spreads so broad that its disc forms a perfect circle. The yellow of the throat is only a slight stain, and the fine crimson patch on the lip leaves a handsome margin of rose.

_Bella._--Distinguished especially by the fine purple frilling of the lip which, like the sepals and petals, is nearly white of ground. A triangle of brightest crimson, sharply defined, issues from the handsome orange throat.

_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.