respects; they returned his call on board, and Tamawan invited him to a
feast. Next day another potentate entertained him and then another. Drink
of all sorts, including 'best French brandy,' flowed without
intermission. Williams began to be ill. But there was no talk of
business. His goods had been landed at the Council Hall, as is usual, but
not unpacked. The Nakodah assured him all was right. He himself had a
quantity of merchandise waiting under the same conditions.
So a week passed; 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 L300 to L1000 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 nobles 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 Kum 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 lustrous 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 shell, 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 Kum 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 Kum 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. Kum 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 passed--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 passed 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 bloody
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 passionately; 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 passed 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 nobles. 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.
[Illustration: CATTLEYA LABIATA. VAR. MEASURESIANA.]
CATTLEYA LABIATA HOUSE
This is the oldest of Cattleyas, for the plant now recognised as Catt.
Loddigesii, which was introduced to Europe a few years earlier, passed
under the name of Epidendrum. One might call labiata 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 labiata 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 assured himself that they had explored
every district which Swainson could possibly have visited; but of Cattleya
labiata 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 Schroeder, 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 labiata 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 labiata 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 quantities 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 labiatas. 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.
_Nobilis._--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 Schroeder._--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.
_Archduchess._--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.
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 x 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. Secard, 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. Secard 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.