I must not dwell upon the marvels here, in front, on either side, and above--a hint is enough. There are baskets of _Loelia anceps_ three feet across, lifted bodily from the tree in their native forest where they had grown perhaps for centuries. One of them--the white variety, too, which æsthetic infidels might adore, though they believed in nothing--opened a hundred spikes at Christmas time; we do not concern ourselves with minute reckonings here. But an enthusiastic novice counted the flowers blooming one day on that huge mass of _Loelia albida_ yonder, and they numbered two hundred and eleven--unless, as some say, this was the quantity of "spikes," in which case one must have to multiply by two or three. Such incidents maybe taken for granted at the farm.
[Illustration: LOELIANCEPS SCHROEDERIANA. Reduced to One Sixth]
But we must not pass a new orchid, quite distinct and supremely beautiful, for which Professor Reichenbach has not yet found a name sufficiently appreciative. Only eight pieces were discovered, whence we must suspect that it is very rare at home; I do not know where the home is, and I should not tell if I did. Such information is more valuable than the surest tip for the Derby, or most secrets of State. This new orchid is a Cyrrhopetalun, of very small size, but, like so many others, its flower is bigger than itself. The spike inclines almost at a right angle, and the pendent half is hung with golden bells, nearly two inches in length. Beneath it stands the very rare scarlet Utricularia, growing in the axils of its native Vriesia, as in a cup always full; but as yet the flower has been seen in Europe only by the eyes of faith. It may be news to some that Utricularias do not belong to the orchid family--have, in fact, not the slightest kinship, though associated with it by growers to the degree that Mr. Sander admits them to his farm. A little story hangs to the exquisite _U. Campbelli_. All importers are haunted by the spectral image of _Cattleya labiata_, which, in its true form, had been brought to Europe only once, seventy years ago, when this book was written. Some time since, Mr. Sander was looking through the drawings of Sir Robert Schomburgk, in the British Museum, among which is a most eccentric Cattleya named--for reasons beyond comprehension--a variety of _C. Mossiæ_. He jumped at the conclusion that this must be the long-lost _C. labiata_. So strong indeed was his confidence that he despatched a man post-haste over the Atlantic to explore the Roraima mountain; and, further, gave him strict injunctions to collect nothing but this precious species. For eight months the traveller wandered up and down among the Indians, searching forest and glade, the wooded banks of streams, the rocks and clefts, but he found neither _C. labiata_ nor that curious plant which Sir Robert Schomburgk described. Upon the other hand, he came across the lovely _Utricularia Campbelli_, and in defiance of instructions brought it down. But very few reached England alive. For six weeks they travelled on men's backs, from their mountain home to the River Essequibo; thence, six weeks in canoe to Georgetown, with twenty portages; and, so aboard ship. The single chance of success lies in bringing them down, undisturbed, in the great clumps of moss which are their habitat, as is the Vriesia of other species.