January 1, 1835. ] 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
IB 
too strongly, and also that high culture shortens the duration of the dis¬ 
play, are worthy of repeating. 
At no time does he use strong liquid manure, nor does he online 
himself to one particular kind. Sometimes it is soot water, at others 
guano water, varied with drainings from the manure heap, and, as he 
says, “ always very weak, being of opinion that a deal of injury is caused 
by giving stimulants too strong.” A fortnight before the plants are 
housed, this usually taking place about October 10th, each plant receives 
a sprinkling of Standen’s manure, and “ after that nothing but clear 
water, and always as near the temperature of the house as possible.” 
Yet in spite of this moderation Mr. Edwards complains that his blooms 
are over long before those under the charge of a neighbouring gardener, 
and who uses nothing but clear water. Unless I am much mistaken 
others, too, have made the same discovery. At any rate, with us the 
conservatory plants, and especially the hybrid Pompons, notably Soour 
Melanie and several Anemone- flowered varieties, last much longer than do 
the disbudded and much-pampered larger-flowering varieties. However, 
the large blooms afford much pleasure while they last, and we must be 
thankful accordingly.—W. I. 
THE PERILS OF ORCHID COLLECTORS. 
The following letter from Dr. Alexander Wallace of Colchester recently 
appeared in the Standard, and it so well pourtrays the difficulties and 
dangers encountered by plant-collectors that it is worthy of reproduction. 
“I send you particulars of a trip to New Guinea which I received from 
my botanical collector, and which resemble so strongly an account given 
in the Australasian Times that I am tempted to believe they relate to the 
same expedition. If so, as the tale I now send was furnished me direct by 
the collector who was present throughout, the details of it are probably 
more correct than those of the extract in question. The following is the 
letter :— 
“ That was an awful failure—we had to escape for our lives. We were in 
great hopes when we got there, as we found several new rivers. We were 
six in all, and had a little schooner for exploring. We went up a very 
large river one to two miles wide; the Captain would not let us land, as he 
wished to explore the river first. This main river turned out to be an 
estuary, though not known before. From it we went up a new river, which 
was called the Syme, for many miles, passing several mouths of other 
rivers, all new to white men, and which were duly named. We were 
anxiously looking out for natives or their villages, but saw none. All the 
way up for miles this Syme was affected by the tides, but when receding we 
had to use all our strength to fight against the powerful current to get 
upwards. The naturalist and I were often anxious to get on shore, but 
no; our Captain wanted to get to the top of the river, or as far as we could, 
and then return and begin land exploration. We went up many miles 
until the current was so strong that we could not get any further. We 
could see the banks of the river were clothed with lofty trees, Palms, and in 
many instances Ferns of large dimensions. 
“ On our return down the river towards the mouth of the sea, where we 
intended to begin exploring inland, we met with, or rather saw, a sight that 
made us shudder—a large number of canoes crammed full of natives— 
cannibals. These wretches live further round the coast, and make periodical 
trips down the coast to the more harmless natives, and clear them out, 
killing all before them. They are called the Dugarra men. They have 
decimated the coast tribes almost to a man. In some instances they take 
them back and kill and eat them. Here was a dilemma, and the force of 
the current was fast taking us into their midst. We, however, managed to 
get our little schooner to the windward and set sail, at the same time 
assisting her with all our power with the dingy we had. Night was coming 
on, so that we managed to escape through the darkness. The next thing 
was, what to do. Our Captain was sick, he had been unwell for some days ; 
at last, as a ruse, we set all sails on the schooner for up the river and aban¬ 
doned her, getting into the dingy and rowing to the side of the river. 
Having done this we sank the dingy in the mangroves that grow fearfully 
thick. We hoped they would follow our schooner, and we should escape. 
We had to leave all behind except a few odds and ends we could hurriedly 
get—a little medicine, our guns, and some oatmeal and a few biscuits. We 
thus started off for the coast, to find it through swamps and mangroves, 
every moment expecting the cannibal wretches at our feet. On we went, 
and at last, weary, made a bed on the ground where best we could. In the 
morning we found ourselves on the edge of a large flat of cold grey soil 
covered with Pitcher Plants; but on we went. Then we came to a large 
creek or river; had to get through as best we could—the blazing tropical 
sun overhead, the miasmatic steam from the swamps enveloping us. Some 
of us began to feel a touch of the fever ; one got light-headed for a while. 
We continued for three or four days at this game, and nothing to eat but 
dry oatmeal. 
i: One morning we were crossing a native hunting ground, and presently, 
without warning, a spear came whizzing through the air and struck one of 
our men in the foot, going clean through boot and foot. We thought our 
end had come, and determined to die desperately, but the natives 
decamped as quickly as we made up our minds to fight it out, for we could 
not find one. On we went, and reached the coast at last. Mangrove swamps 
and Mangrove swamps, and low stunted Eucalyptus. Opposite to us there 
was an island at which we called on our way to New Guinea, called Sabai. 
This island two or three years before had been decimated by these can¬ 
nibals, and only about a hundred souls escaped. The next year they came 
the Sabai natives, with their teachers, went out in whaleboats and met 
them, and gave them an awful thrashing, killing most of them, leaving few 
to go home to tell the tale. Those wretches we met in the mouth of the 
river were the men that were going to Sabai to wreak their vengeance ; 
luckily for Sabai we met with them first. Well, we wanted to get to this 
island, some three miles across. At this time we were all in a queer state ; 
the Captain was very ill; Kelly, who had had his foot speared, was in great 
agony of pain. One of our party, Scott, wanted to swim over for help from 
Sabai, and at last, by great persuasion, we constructed a raft and let him 
go. We saw him go bravely on through the reefs, which are very dan¬ 
gerous all round this coast, and, in fact, Torres Straits are full of these 
dangerous coral reefs; we watched and watched him out of sight,hoping he 
would get safe. We waited a day, fully expecting someone coming to our 
succour, but no, not a Bign of life; we were in the most fearful dread, as 
we knew by that time that they, the cannibals, had overhauled our little 
craft, and would be terribly enraged at finding we were off. At last, as an 
expedient, I proposed a fire, though others were afraid it might attract the 
Dugarra men. However, our mates were so bad, it was, as I argued, better 
even do it to attract Sabai and the other wretches than die of fear, sickness, 
and hunger. Our fire had the desired effect—they were soon down for us 
from Sabai, and we got safely off at last. 
“ I had a few bits of Orchids and a beautiful Impatiens ; but, alas! they 
were all forgotten ; but, do you know, the craze for Orchids was so strong 
that I could almost have gone back for them. We, however, warned the 
teachers of the Dugarra men. Poor Scott never turned up and was lost— 
drowned. This cast a terrible gloom over us all. A pearl-fishing schooner 
was there. They bundled us off, as they were all up and making ready 
again to rmet those wretches out in the sea to do battle, and we were in 
their way. We were glad to get away. We were all prostrate ; the 
Captain was very ill; his legs, with going through the swamp, got diseased, 
and we had to leave Kelly and him at Cooktown. Stewart and myself were 
the best of the lot. I suppose I stood it well, being so used to steaming- 
houses. Thus ended the trip, such a one that I shall never undertake 
again. Whenever I go again I shall make for Port Moresby, and get the 
assistance of the missionaries. I may say that we had but small oppor¬ 
tunity to get anything. The naturalist, Stewart, got a few fine insects and 
a few birds on one or two stolen trips on the land. I got several things, a 
grand Croton or two, some Orchids, Dendrobes, a grand Pitcher Plant, and a 
few other things; but, alas ! they were left in the schooner for the can¬ 
nibals. We have since heard that they tore our vessel in pieces, and took 
away stores, &c. The naturalist wished they would eat his arsenical soap, 
and that would be a mild revenge.” 
ANTIRRHINUMS AGAIN. 
I AM never without a bed of those most hardy, useful, and very 
ornamental flowers. The dwarf varieties are specially suited for small 
gardens, the colours ranging from the richest velvet crimson to the 
most delicate flesh, the purest whites and the clearest palest yellows. 
They bloom in early summer most profusely. No seedpod is suffered to 
remain. Each one may calculate on a constant succession, not of course 
a blaze like the first bloom, but you will never be disappointed of spikes 
till severe frosts set in. A bed will last two or even three years. The 
taller varieties of Antirrhinums are striking and effective for decorative 
purposes. One or two spikes, with an Ox-eyed Daisy or two, and a few 
field grasses make a simple and graceful arrangement in a tall slender or 
trumpet-shaped glass.—A. M. B. 
TEA EOSES UNDER GLASS—PRUNING. 
1 wish you would in an early issue of the Journal give an article 
on Tea Roses planted out under glass. I have a house planted with 
them, but I do not exactly understand the pruning of them as de¬ 
scribed by most growers. Some of them have made shoots 2 or 3 feet 
long and branched at the top, almost like a standard. Again some 
vigorous growers, like Gloire de Dijon, &c., have made shoots from 
9 to 12 feet long, and then branched all the way up the stem, and 
then again these lateral branches in some instances have branched 
again.— James Peroival. 
Before these varieties can be pruned to yield the most satisfac¬ 
tory return to the grower they must be divided into two classes. The 
system of pruning that would suit the smaller-growing varieties, such 
as Niphetos, Rubens, Madame Lambard, Souvenir d’un Ami, and 
others, would not answer for Gloire de Dijon, Lamarque, Marechal 
Niel, and such varieties that produce long strong vigorous growths. 
With the former pruning must be regulated chiefly upon the system 
of training adopted, and whether large flowers of first-rate quality are 
required in preference to a larger number of smaller buds. I will 
detail the system of pruning necessary in each case as well as for the 
two classes into which I propose dividing the varieties alluded to 
above. 
The former or small-growing varieties, if planted against pillars 
to cover an arched trellis or the front of the roof in a partially 
upright condition, are easily pruned when large numbers of buds are 
desired. The small, weak, and puny shoots should be removed or 
shortened to one eye, while all unripe and soft wood should be cut 
back to firm wood. If the plants have been previously trained— 
especially to an arched or similar trellis — some of the wood previously 
laid in will be useless and should be removed. It will be seen at a 
glance which wood has been weakened by strong vigorous shoots 
starting from its base. This wood, if not already showing signs of 
going back, would not be long before it died if laid in again. Our 
practice is to remove at pruning time the whole of the wood that was 
laid in the previous year to the point where strong new shoots have 
started. When the trellis has once been filled with sufficient leading 
shoots pruuing is easy, because the whole of the old exhausted wood 
can be removed annually, and the best of the current year’s wood 
retained for refilling the trellis, or at the least the best and most 
