68 Bog-Trotting for Orchids 



the Showy Queen of the genus might dwell not far 

 distant. 



Knowing the favorite haunts which this orchid 

 seeks, I searched through all the dark corners of the 

 swamp. At the extreme northwestern portion of the 

 region, I entered a dense shaded corner about fifty feet 

 square, w^here were many springs soaking through the 

 sphagnum to the deeper fields of the interior which 

 I had so lately left. Here were numerous decaying 

 pine and tamarack logs, low sapling willows tangled 

 amid the small scrubby spruces and tender pines, which 

 were striving against the greater natives of the forest 

 to lift their spires as high as possible; but however 

 eager they were, they had not attained a height above 

 ten or fifteen feet at most. Many w^ere already dis- 

 couraged or had died in the competition, and their 

 wasting forms were still standing wdth broken and 

 weather-worn trunks and limbs. 



Tall brakes and Indian Poke ran riot among the 

 deeper mounds of moss, which covered the decaying 

 roots of the long wasted primeval pitch pines. The 

 dark, sluggish pools reflected weirdly the ferns and 

 trees above them. 



Shooting up from these piles of sphagnum, I found 

 at least fifty plants of the Showy Moccasin-Flower 

 (^Cypripediujn regijKB). They were pregnant with 

 slumbering buds, and w^ould surely be in full blossom 

 by June 20th. Happ\^ over my good fortune at locat- 

 ing another station for this species, I prepared to bend 

 my footsteps toward my horse and buggy, — glad in- 



