Oversluys had seen and even admired this flower many a time on the upland savannahs in riding past. He was looking for orchids, however, and who could have expected to find an Oncidium buried among herbage in the open ground?

The ox demands a word. Such trained animals are not uncommon in Central America. The process of education is very cruel. By constant tapping, their horns are loosened when young, so that the tortured beast obeys the slightest pressure. Its movements in walking are thus directed, and when the horns grow firm again it continues to recognise a touch. But the degrees of intelligence in brutes are strikingly displayed here. Some forget the lesson in a twelvemonth. Most are uncertain. A very few, like Pablo's, understand so well what is required of them that direction is needless. In that case the hunter can walk backwards, keeping his body quite concealed. He is almost sure to kill, unless the fault be his own.

LAELIA JONGHEANA

The back wall carries a broad sloping ledge of tufa, where little chips of Odontoglossum and the rest are planted out to grow until they become large enough to be potted--no long time, for they gather strength fast in niches of the porous stone. Along the top, however, are ranged flowering plants of Odontoglossum grande which make a blaze in their season--three to six blooms upon a spike, the smallest of them four inches across. Overhead is a long row of Laelia Jongheana--some three hundred of them here and elsewhere. It is a species with a history, and I venture to transcribe the account which I published in the _Pall Mall Gazette_, July 18, 1899.

'A SENSATION FOR THE ELECT.--The general public will hear without emotion that Laelia Jongheana has been rediscovered. The name is vaguely suggestive of orchids--things delightful in a show, or indeed elsewhere, when in bloom, but not exhilarating to read about. Therefore I call the news a sensation for the elect. At the present moment, I believe, only one plant of L. Jongheana is established in this country, among Baron Schroder's wonders. Though its history is lost this must be a lonely survivor of those which reached Europe in 1855--a generation and a half ago. It is not to be alleged that no civilised mortal has beheld the precious weed in its native forests since that date; but no one has mentioned the spectacle, and a.s.suredly no one has troubled to gather plants. Registered long since among the "Lost Orchids," which should bring a little fortune to the discoverer, native botanists and dealers in all parts of South America have been looking out. And the collectors! For forty years past not one of the mult.i.tude has left the sh.o.r.es of Europe or the United States, bound for the Cattleya realm, without special instructions to watch and pray for L. Jongheana. More and more pressing grew the exhortations as years went by and prices mounted higher, until of late they subsided in despair. Yet the flower is almost conspicuous enough to be a landmark, and it does not hide in the tree-tops either, like so many.

'Every one who takes interest in orchids will be prepared already to hear that Messrs. Sander are the men of fate. How many of such spells have they broken! Without book I recall Oncidium splendidum, of which not a plant remained in Europe, nor a hint of the country where it grew; the "scarlet Phalaenopsis" of native legend, never beheld of white man, which, in fact, proved to be brick-red; Cattleya l.a.b.i.ata, the Lost Orchid _par excellence_, vainly sought from 1818 to 1889. The recovery of Dendrobium Schroderium was chronicled by every daily paper in London, or almost, with a leader, when a skull was shown in Protheroe's Rooms with a specimen clinging to it, and a select group of idols accompanying the shipment.

Less important, but not less interesting, was the reappearance of Cypripedium Marstersianum at a later date. Verily, we orchidists owe a debt to the St. Albans firm.

'In these cases success was merited by hard thought, patient inquiry, and long effort. Working out the problem in his study, Mr. Sander fixed upon a certain country where the prize would be found, and sent his collector to the spot. Oversluys searched for Oncidium splendidum during three years, until he wrote home that it might be in ---- or ----, but it certainly was not in Costa Rica; yet he found it at last. In this present case, however, the discovery is due to pure luck; but one may say that a slice of luck also was well deserved after those laborious triumphs. One of the St. Albans collectors, M. Forget, was roaming about Brazil lately. The Government invited him to join a scientific mission setting out to study the products and resources of Minas Gaeras. It is comparatively little known. M. Forget was unable to accept the invitation, but he heard enough about this secluded province to rouse his interest, especially when the savants reported that no collector had been there. Accordingly, he made an expedition as soon as possible, and at the very outset discovered an orchid--not in flower--resembling Laelia pumila in every detail but size.

It was at least twice as big as that small, familiar species, but the points of similarity were so striking that M. Forget p.r.o.nounced it a grand local form of L. pumila. And when the consignment reached St. Albans, even the wary and thoughtful authorities there endorsed his view! Not without hesitation. I believe that the name of L. Jongheana was whispered. But despair had grown to the pitch that no one ventured to speak out. Yet by drawings and descriptions, anxiously studied for years, all knew perfectly well that in growth the lost species must be like L. pumila, enlarged. It is, indeed, strong evidence of the absorbing interest of the search that when at length it ended, neither M. Forget nor his employers dared to believe their own eyes.

'So in November last year some hundreds or thousands of a remarkable orchid were offered at Protheroe's under the t.i.tle "L. pumila (?)." Nearly all the leading amateurs and growers bought, I think, but at a very cheap rate. Half a crown apiece would be a liberal average for plants over which millionaires would have battled had they known. But, after all, the luck of the purchasers was not unqualified. Many who read this will feel a dreary satisfaction in learning that if their plants have perished or dwindled, plenty of others are in like case. Further experience shows that they were gathered at the wrong time; of course they reached Europe at the wrong time. And nearly every one put them into heat, which was a final error. L. Jongheana is quite a cool species. Through these acc.u.mulated misfortunes only two out of the mult.i.tude have flowered up to this, so far as I can hear. The dullest of mortals can feel something of the delicious anxiety of those gentlemen who watched the great bloom swelling from day to day when it began to show its tints, and they proved to be quite unlike those of L. pumila. At length it opened, and L. Jongheana was recovered.

'What sort of a thing is it, after all? For an unlearned description, I should say that the flowers--two, three, or even five in number--are from four to five inches across--sepals, petals, and curl of lip bright amethyst, yellow throat, white centre; the crisped and frilled margin all round suffused with purple. It was discovered in 1855 by Libon, who died soon after, carrying his secret with him. He was sent out by M. de Jonghe, of Brussels--hence the name.'

Up to the present time only one of the plants here has flowered--and it opened pure white, saving a yellow stain on the lip. This was not altogether a surprise, for a close examination of the faded blooms convinced M. Forget that some of them must have been white, whatever the species might be. And he marked them accordingly. That a collector of such experience should prove to be right was not astonishing, as I say, but remarkably pleasant.

At the end of the house is a pretty verdant nook where Cypripedium insigne is planted out upon banks of tufa among Adiantums and overshadowing palms.

STORY OF BULBOPHYLLUM BARBIGERUM

This species is so rare in Europe that I must give a word of description.

The genus contains the largest and perhaps the smallest of orchids--B.

Beccarii, whose stem is six inches in diameter, carrying leaves two feet long, and B. pygmaeum of New Zealand. They are all fly-catchers, I think, equipped with apparatus to trap their prey, as droll commonly in the working as ingenious in the design. Barbigerum has pseudo-bulbs less than an inch high, and its flowers are proportionate. But charm and size are no way akin. Fascination dwells in the lip, which, hanging upon the slenderest possible connection, lengthens out to the semblance of a brush.

Thus exquisitely poised it rocks without ceasing, and its long, silky, purple-brown hairs wave softly but steadily all day long, as if on the back of a moving insect. Pretty though it be, all declare it uncanny.

The species was introduced from Sierra Leone by Messrs. Loddiges, so long ago as 1835. I have not come upon any reference to a public sensation.

a.s.suredly, however, the orchidists of the day were struck, and it is probable that Messrs. Loddiges sold the wonder at a high price if in bloom. Some people in Sierra Leone forwarded consignments. But an orchid so small and delicate needs careful handling. None of them reached Europe alive, I dare say.

It appears, however, that Bulbophyllum barbigerum is common throughout those regions. The example at Kew, which diverts so many good folks year by year, came from Lagos, near a thousand miles east and south of Sierra Leone. And the story I have to tell places it at Whydah, between the two.

A young man named Boville went thither as clerk in the English factory, soon after 1835. We have not to ask what was his line of commerce. I have no information, but it must be feared, though perhaps we do him wrong, that one branch of it at least was the slave trade. Boville had heard of Messrs. Loddiges' success. Residents at Whydah do not commonly explore the bush, but he was young and enterprising. On his first stroll he discovered the Bulbophyllum, and to his innocence it seemed the promise of a fortune.

Real good things must be kept quiet. The treasure was plentiful enough to cause 'a glut' forthwith if many speculators engaged. Luckily he had a Kroo boy in attendance, not a native. To him Boville a.s.sumed an air of mystery, said he was going to make fetich, and 'something happen' to any one who spoke of his proceedings--'make fetich' and 'something happen' are among the first local expressions which a man learns in West Africa. The Kroo boy grinned, because that is his way of acknowledging any communication whatsoever, and snapped his fingers in sign of willing obedience. So Boville gathered a dozen plants, and hoped to have a stock before 'the ship' arrived. There were no steamers then, and at Whydah, a very unimportant station for lawful trade, English vessels only called once in three months. Slavers did not ship orchids.

It was Boville's employment henceforth to collect the Bulbophyllum whenever he had a few hours to spare. He hung his spoils on the lattice work which surrounds a bedroom in those parts, between roof and wall, designed for ventilation--hiding them with clothes and things. It is proper to add that the 'English Fort' was already deserted, and the 'Factory' a mere name. The agent, his superior officer, was not at all likely to visit a clerk's quarters. This good man belonged to a cla.s.s very frequent then upon 'the coast.' He had not returned to England, nor wished to do so, since coming out. At a glance he recognised that this was his real native land, and without difficulty he made himself a fellow-countryman of the negroes, living like a caboceer, amidst an undeterminate number of wives, slaves, and children. Very shocking; but it may be pointed out that such men as this established our colonies or seats of trade in Africa. They had virtues, perhaps, but their vices were more useful. The moral system of the present day would not have answered then.

An agent secured his position by marrying a daughter of every chief who might be troublesome. He had no Maxim guns.

Mr. Blank knew every feeling and superst.i.tion of the negroes,--that is the point of my reference to his character. And one evening he entered the room just as Boville was hanging up his latest acquisitions, some of which were in flower. Whatever Mr. Blank's business, it fled from his mind on beholding the orchids.

'Good G.o.d!' he cried. 'What--what--you are no better than a dead man! I won't protect you--I can't! Good G.o.d! What possessed you?'

'I don't understand,' said Boville.

'No, you don't understand! They send me out the most infernal idiots'--and then Mr. Blank fell to swearing.

Boville saw the case was grave somehow. 'Are they poisonous?' he asked.

'Poisonous be--etc. etc. That's the Endua--the holiest of plants! You'll wish they were poisonous before long! What a lot! You didn't get 'em all to-day?'

'I can destroy them. Only Georgius Rex the Krooman has been into the bush with me.'

'You fool! D'you think you can hide this from the fetich? Put--put 'em in a sack, and tumble 'em into the river after dark! Oh Lord, here's an awful business!'

Moving about the room restlessly as he talked, whilst Boville thrust the orchids into a bag, the agent opened a door which gave upon a platform called the verandah--in fact, the roof of the store. It overlooked the street. In an instant he ran back.

'It's all up' he cried. 'Oh Lord! Here's the Vokhimen!'

Boville had heard this name, which belongs to an official of the Vo-dun, the fetich priesthood, whose duty it is to summon offenders. He went to see. The street was in an uproar. Two men clothed in black and white, with faces chalked, were beating Vo-drums furiously--but such din is too usual for notice. They stood at the door of a house--habitations in Whydah are not properly described as huts. All the neighbours surged round vociferous. Presently emerged a grotesque figure, rather clothed than adorned with strings of human teeth and bones, and little wooden idols painted red. His black and white cap had lappets with red snakes sewn thereon; the breast of his tunic bore a large red cross, the sacred symbol of Dahomey. He came forth with a leap, and danced along with ridiculous gestures to the next house, flourishing the iron bar which marks his office. The bones and images rattled like castanets. The drummers followed. Through the next doorway the Vokhimen sprang, and disappeared.

'He isn't after me, thank G.o.d!' cried Boville.

'He is, you fool! It's their way to hunt about like that when they well know where to find the victim. No, it's too late to hide the cursed things now. G.o.d help you, Boville! I can do nothing.' And Mr. Blank hurried out.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ODONTOGLOSSUM, CORONARIUM.]

'Go to the Hun-to at least, sir--and to Mr. Martinez! Don't leave me helpless to these devils!'

'I'll do all I can for you, but it's worse than useless my stopping here.'

Perhaps it is necessary to observe that the Europeans in Whydah had long been subject to the King of Dahomey, ruled by a Viceroy. Each nationality had its official chief, called Hun-to by the English, and the Portuguese representative enjoyed particular consideration. Nevertheless, the Viceroy was their absolute master, and he obeyed the fetich men.

It is so easy to conceive poor Boville's bewilderment and despair that I shall not dwell upon the situation. With feverish haste he concealed his orchids. Mr. Blank reappeared, with a rope fringed with strips of palm leaf, dry and crackling. This he threw round Boville's neck.

'They daren't hurt you with that on!' he cried. 'Only the head priest can remove it! Go down! I've set drink on the table! Good-bye!'

The poor fellow obeyed, taking a pistol. All the servants were cl.u.s.tered at the door, wide-eyed, humming with terror and excitement. Presently the drums sounded nearer and nearer--the throng opened--the Vokhimen danced through, jibbering, curveting, posturing. He started at sight of the palm-leaf cord, but pa.s.sed by, unheeding a gla.s.s of rum which Boville offered, and pranced upstairs. The agent was right. This devil knew where to look! He thumped about a while overhead, then capered down, with a bundle of orchids dangling on the iron stick. The gla.s.s was not refused this time. After drinking, the summoner touched Boville with his wand of office, saying, 'Come! The snake calls you!'

Boville did not understand the formula, but he guessed its meaning. There was no help. He set forth. The Vokhimen pocketed the rum bottle and followed, moving gravely enough now.

The mob shouted with astonishment at the appearance of a white criminal, but when the cause of his arrest was seen--that bundle of the holy Endua--astonishment changed to rage. Boville owed his life to the Azan, the fetich cord, at that instant. But the drummers beat furiously, and, as if in response, a dozen fetich men suddenly appeared, pushing through the crowd. One side of their heads was shaven bare. They wore garments of hideous fantasy, charms and horrid objects innumerable, and each a pair of silver horns upon the forehead. Under this escort Boville marched to the fetich place.

This was a bare piece of ground, encircled by the low dark dwellings of the priests, with the sacred wood behind it, and in the midst the Snake Temple. Often had Boville glanced into the small building, which has no door, and seen the reptiles swarming inside. He did not feel the loathing for snakes which is so common--happily, as it proved. But no man could watch that mult.i.tude of restless, twining creatures without horror.

Led to the dreadful doorway, Boville turned, thinking to resist; but they fell upon him, doubled him up--for the entrance was very low--and thrust him in bodily. The poor fellow screamed in tumbling full length upon a platform which occupied the middle. He had seen it alive with snakes, writhing one over the other.