SCIENCE-GOSSIP. 



205 



A GARDEN IN SIAM. 

 By Mrs. K. Grindrod. 



T ESS a garden than a plantation, less a planta- 

 tion than a jungle, yet somethirg of all three, 

 and entirely delightful in each of its varied aspects. 

 The simple folk around call it a royal garden, 

 and although by royalty long since forsaken, it is 

 still truly royal in the old oriental sense — in the 

 barbaric profusion of disregarded wealth, in endless 

 possibilities undeveloped, in brilliance without 

 order, richness without taste. But what a garden 

 for the amateur botanist, fresh to the glories of the 

 tropics, and not yet recovered from the paralysing 

 effect of the Botanical Gardens of Peradeniya or 

 Buitenzorg, of Singapore or Hong Kong. This 

 simple garden has had but little art expended upon 

 it, and its treasures fairly represent the common 

 products of the lowlands of Siam, or such of those 

 treasures as can be induced to grow in the sun- 

 burnt, clayey soil of Bangkok. Fruit-trees, garden- 

 flowers and wild weeds grow here together amicably. 

 The period of neglect has as yet been too short for 

 the obliteration of the marks of ancient culture, but 

 a few years will doubtless change the face of things 

 completely. Before it entirely reverts to jungle let 

 me note down some of the treasures to be found 

 therein. 



Here in serried ranks, with rope-like roots clasp- 

 ing the shelving sides of irrigating creeks, rise in 

 emulating loftiness of feathery heads the stately 

 areca palms, bearing on high the yellowing betel- 

 nut, beloved of the Far East. Between them and 

 around, in all directions grows that most pleasing 

 of palms, the graceful cocoanut, with its character- 

 istic curving trunk, thick waving plumes and heavy 

 green nuts. Close to the fan-leaved palmyra palm 

 grows a plant which looks like one huge fan of 

 perfect proportions, the misnamed traveller's 

 palm, which is truely no palm at all, but aRavenala, 

 closely akin to the banana-bearing Musa. The 

 banana's great broad leaves wave over the path- 

 ways in every direction, young uncurling leaves of 

 vivid green, older leaves torn to ribbons by 

 autumnal storms, faded leaves, yellow and brown, 

 ready to fall with the next gale. The mango tree 

 is a frequent favourite here, with its long, drooping, 

 finger-like leaves and its cones of tiny clustered 

 flowers, spreading a faint acidity in the air, 

 precursor of the luscious sweetness of the matured 

 fruit. Conspicuous aloft on the mango branches 

 the parasitical Loranthus bicolor is often to be seen, 

 its scarlet and green flowers glittering like gay 

 insects in the sunlight. Oranges of all sizes grow 

 here, from the smallest mandarin to the largest 

 pommelo, and the air is odorous all the brilliant 

 summer with the fragrant white blossoms of a 



small ornamental Citrus shrub, whose lemon-shaped 

 fruits grow no larger than hazel-nuts. Here, as a 

 study in vivid contrasts, are to be seen. side by side 

 the brilliant scarlet flowers of the pomegranate, the 

 modest russet-brown of the sapodilla plum, and the 

 waxen reds and whites of the deceptively 

 beautiful roseapple. Under the shadow of a lofty 

 Melia nestles that most pleasing of small tropical 

 trees, the South American papaw, introduced into 

 Siam centuries ago by the Portuguese traders. 

 Towering above all its neighbours, save the areca 

 palm, rises the giant tamarind, a great tree indeed, 

 but with the smallest and most delicate of leaflets, 

 autumnal showers of which make an incomparably 

 beautiful carpet of scarlet and green. Close to the 

 tamarind grows the small compact jackfruit-tree, 

 one of the most comely of trees, whose glossy entire 

 leaves readily mark it off from its cousin the bread- 

 fruit-tree. The deeply-cut leaves of the breadfruit- 

 tree are rarely seen so far west of Polynesia as 

 Bangkok, although some fairly luxuriant specimens 

 of the tree flourish at the gate of the British Legation. 

 So too the famous teak-tree of Northern Siam is 

 represented in Bangkok by a single moribund 

 specimen, which drags on a miserable existence 

 among the bales and packages on a certain wharf, 

 while the allied chaste-tree is a frequent ornament 

 to the roadside and in gardens. The olive 

 and guava, custard-apple and jujube, carambole 

 and other fruits innumerable, are frequent in this 

 royal garden and doubtless in the days of 

 yore, when it was indeed a royal demesne, 

 the famous durian and mangosteen grew here like- 

 wise. Now they have withdrawn to quieter 

 retreats, for fruits of so rare a lusciousness ripen 

 not in the midst of trade's busy marts. The 

 gorgeous flowers of Poinciana regia, the " flame-of- 

 the-forest," and the yet more beautiful blossoms 

 of Lagerstrcemia regia help to bear out the assertion 

 that the most brilliant flowers of the tropics are on 

 high trees. The banyan and the bo-tree, here as 

 elsewhere, tokens of former priestly care for these 

 historic trees, are, in their quieter garb, even more 

 pleasing than their brilliant neighbours, for the 

 pleasure is not that of sight alone but of associa- 

 tion. Both trees are "sacred" to all races which 

 owe their religion and their traditions to India. 

 But to Buddhists the bo-tree, the Ficus religiosa, 

 is pre-eminently a holy tree, for under its shade 

 Gautama attained Buddhahood long ago, and where- 

 ever his disciples make their home there his tree 

 is planted. In many a ruinous garden in Siam 

 the long-stalked, long-pointed bo-leaves, shivering 

 aspen-like in every breeze, whisper of the days 



