NEAR AMBERLEY. 15 



though they were intended solely for their pleasure, little thinking 

 that honey, scent, colour, and even the delicate pencillings and 

 quaint irregularities of some flowers, have all some special refer- 

 ence to their insect visitors. Now, orchids are among the clever- 

 est; so to speak; in their strange contrivances for securing the safe 

 conveyance of their pollen. Space will not allow me to speak of 

 the many tropical orchids I have watched in hot-houses ; but over 

 and over again I have seen unwary insects taken in their cunning 

 traps. In his " Reign of Laws," the Duke of Argyll says of 

 them : — " ' Moth-traps and spring-guns set on these grounds ' 

 might be the motto of the orchids. There are baits to tempt the 

 nectar-loving lepidoptera, with rich odours exhaled by night and 

 colours to shine by day ; there are channels of approach along 

 which they are surely guided, so as to compel them to pass by 

 certain spots ; there are adhesive plasters nicely adjusted to fit 

 their proboscis, or to catch their brows ; and there are hair-triggers 

 carefully set in their necessary path, communicating with explosive 

 shells which project the pollen stalks with unerring aim upon their 

 bodies." The little Fly Ophrys not only attracts flies by its like- 

 ness to one of themselveSj but also by the shining patch on its 

 labellum, which it is supposed they take to be honey. Ophrys 

 apifei'a grows plentifully near Amberley ; and on any bright day in 

 July the bees may be seen bustling in and out of its handsome 

 brown and pink flowers. It is not, however, so like a bee as the 

 former is like a fly. Ophrys arajiifera is very like the large 

 garden-spiders found in the autumn. The mutual adaptations of 

 flowers and insects are most curious. The butterflies that flit 

 from flower to flower, only bent on sucking out honey 

 for themselves, are insuring the permanence of the species 

 they frequent. But while bees and butterflies have greatly 

 increased the scents and colours of flowers, there can be 

 no doubt that we owe the dingy hues and noxious smell of others 

 to flies. Not long since, I had a curious specimen of one of these 

 last in the Stapelia, a native of South Africa, with a smell exactly 

 like tainted beef. This plant has become dependent on flies for 

 the conveyance of its pollen. Now, flies do not appreciate colour 

 or scent, but seek out carrion in which to lay their eggs. The 

 Stapdia^ therefore, is just the thing to suit them. It is shaped 



