THE ORCHID REVIEW. 293 
gorgeous blossoms. Until spear or knife or flame ends the victim's life 
these flowers still hang or twine about him, their colours growing richer 
and deeper hued with his spurting blood. 
Another valuable species only reached civilisation less than a year ago. 
It grows somewhere in the Western part of Mexico, exactly where the 
Indians, from whom the specimens were obtained, will not tell, for they 
regard the floweras sacred. It took two years and a vast amount of money 
and diplomacy to bribe these Indians to part with seven bulbs of it. 
There are many other rare varieties which a score of rich collectors 
would give any price for. 
There died about a year ago a famous Orchid hunter named Fosterman. 
But before he died he told of a wonderful Orchid which he said existed in 
Brazil, and which it had been the ambition of his life to secure. 
Landing on the coast of Brazil, a few degrees south of the equator, he 
met a native chief, who told him of a “village of the demon flowers” to the 
westward. Further questioning convinced him that the “ demon flowers " 
were Orchids of the rarest and most wonderful kind, so he decided to find 
this “ village ” at any cost. The chief warned him, vowing that to approach 
the flowers was certain death, but it only served to make the Orchid hunter 
the more determined. He had travelled through forests about six weeks, 
and was calculating that in a fortnight more he should be in the neighbour- 
hood of the “ village of the demon flowers,” when, one afternoon, three of 
his forward guards threw up their arms, and with a cry fell senseless to the 
ground. He had noticed a peculiar sickening odour pervading the heavy, 
heated air, and quickly gave the order for the other men to advance with 
caution and drag back the three fallen ones from the spot where they lay. 
They did so, and returning, reported that they had seen through the forest, 
a little further on, the vast “ village of the demon flowers.” 
Accompanied only by his Portug int ter,the Orchid seeker started 
forward, their mouths and noses muffled as a safeguard against the awful 
odour. They managed to reach the spot where the three men had been 
stricken down, but could go no further. They could see a hundred —_ 
ahead of them a great mass of Orchids. Trees, undergrowth, and every- 
thing were loaded down with them. They were of hues more brilliant oe 
any Fosterman, experienced collector that he was, had everoren or dreame 
of seeing. But, like a barrier, the wall of awful, sickening, overpowering 
odour rose between. The two retired a little way, knowing that if they 
could reach those flowers their fortunes would be made. ; 
But it was of no avail. The mass of brilliant orchids might have been a 
mirage painted on the clouds, so far as reaching them was concerned. ae 
“village” was perhaps an acre in extent, and the two made a comp! ete 
circuit of it, but everywhere rose the awful odour. At last, almost crying 
