_ 46 THE ORCHID REVIEW. [FEBRUARY, 1913- 
from their dismay, a rope was lowered and he was hauled back to safety, 
none the worse except for a few scratches. 
‘They arrived without further mishap at their destination, two weeks 
later, and were soon hard at work collecting the Orchids, which grew in 
great profusion. Thenswamp fever struck the camp, and one after another 
the guides fell ill, so that Barrault had to give up his beloved Orchids and 
turn nurse. Then he, too, caught the fever, and was prostrated for days. 
Some of the guides recovered before he did and, taking advantage of his 
helpless condition, stripped him of his possessions, including the Orchids, 
and left him alone in the forest. In his weakened state it took Barrault a 
week to work his way out of the dense gloom of the forest, guided to some 
extent by the almost overgrown path his expedition had hacked through 
the undergrowth. But at last he reached a cluster of huts and rested for a 
week. Then, with the determination of a man who never knows when 
he is beaten, he set to work organising another expedition. ‘It was during 
this trip,’ wrote Barrault, ‘ that with two guides I stumbled into an army 
of big black ants. Before we could escape they swarmed all over us from 
head to foot. It was half a mile to the nearest forest stream—a half mile 
covered with dense undergrowth. Frantically we crawled our way to the 
water, suffering agonies from the bites of the infuriated ants, and when, 
after what seemed years, we reached the stream’s brink, we barely had 
strength left to fling ourselves into the water. 
‘* Barrault’s heart was still set on the possession of that beautiful snow- 
white flower. He had the remnant of Mrs. Wilson’s gold in belts strapped to 
his body, and the party had not proceeded far when half-a-dozen of his 
redskin followers conspired to kill him in order to secure this or) which 
he had been forced to show them in order to obtain their services.’ 
(Of course there was another fight, in which those who were not cones 
were put to flight). 
Another writer in the New York Herald tells moving stories about Mr. 
Benson and his forty Indians, their journeyings, the desertion or death of his 
followers, the impossiblity of climbing the trees on which the Orchids grew 
because of poisonous green snakes hidden in the foliage, the overturning of 
his canoe by alligators, which made off with one of the Indian guides, when, 
of course, he got lost in the forest and wandered about for two days without 
‘* The writer does not believe that either one of the collectors mentioned 
told the stories as published. Some reporter let his mind wander and manu- 
factured tales that went into print. If they ever heard these stories and 
contradicted them is something that I do not know of. If the wonderful 
exploits would refer only to green or blue snakes, tremendous precipices, 
dense undergrowth, armies of black ants, swamp fevers, and pitched battles of 
ge 
LL we. a abe Mitapatne rian aie 
