230 
THE GARDENING WORLD. 
December 12, 1885. 
gloriously harmonious picture, soothing alike to the 
eye and through this medium to the senses. How the 
mass of foliage glows again, for a great fleecy cloud has 
passed across old Sol’s face, who, smiling genially once 
more, sends forth a flood of light, bringing with it fresh 
touches, and splendid and ever-changing effects of light 
and shade. And see upon the hill forming the back¬ 
ground how rich is the foliage of the Scotch pine. Their 
warm red stems call for special admiration, and here 
produce a pleasing contrast to the surrounding clumps 
of birch in their soft russet brown suit, which so 
strangely corresponds to the garment they wear in early 
spring before the enveloping sheaths drop away from the 
bursting buds. Following the slope of the hill a few fine 
beeches attract attention. They actually seem possessed of 
a power of giving forth light, for even now rays of gold 
and copper flash from the upper sprays swaying in the 
freshening breeze, as if to enliven the still sombre green 
of the middle and lower branches. These in their turn 
are succeeded by the almost geometrical columns of a 
clump of spruce fir, which give place farther down to a 
round-headed sycamore with its pure delicate yellow 
foliage, while a great Spanish Chestnut, only now ac¬ 
quiring its first touches of golden brown, overhangs 
the stream where it bends away to the left and is lost 
to view. 
But what about the animal and insect life, without 
which the most favoured locality becomes a dreary soli¬ 
tude ? For life and piotion we have not far to seek ; for 
in and out among the curved roots of the alder which 
springs from the opposite alluvial bank, a weasel—the 
very emblem of stealth and activity—has been twining 
his lithe body and hurrying to and fro as if imbued 
with a demon of perpetual motion. 
Doubtless he is fully aware of the presence of that 
fat, round, and innocent rabbit, whose ears have been 
visible above yon tuft of coarse grass for the last few 
minutes, and whose four brothers presently make their 
appearance from some invisible burrow and join in an 
exciting game. See how one springs high into the air 
with a ridiculous affectation of mingled surprise and 
fear as his fellow charges at him, and see too how a 
little later they all circle in merry chase round that 
sheep-trimmed furze-bush—evidently the last figure of 
the game, for now two or three have settled down in a 
business-like fashion to their evening meal, while the 
remainder, throwing themselves at full length upon 
their sides, seem to revel in the full warmth of the 
declining sun. 
FTor is bird life wanting, for two plump blackbirds 
are deeply engaged amid the boughs of the mountain 
ash to the right, now decked out in the full pride of its 
crimson fruit, of all berries the choicest and most 
eagerly sought after by most of our British birds. A 
solitary crow appears to take a serious view of things in 
general, as he solemnly stalks about in the shade ; a 
sprightly water-ousel has been darting to and fro across 
the stream, now alighting and taking a plunge from 
one half-submerged stone, now from another ; a solemn 
heron, still as death itself, stands knee-deep where the 
glistening gravel forms a shelving strand near the bend 
to the left, and here and there through the surrounding 
foliage a short note or two, or a gentle rustle, denotes 
the presence of other inhabitants—invisible no doubt, 
but the knowledge of whose presence seems to dispel 
any sense of loneliness, and even to produce a feeling of 
gratification and contentment. 
But what comes dropping down through the leafy 
beechen canopy overhead, and pattering upon the hard 
surface at the base of the great grey stem, or falling 
noiselessly among the tangled grasses and tall bracken ? 
A squirrel, or probably two, are busy up aloft, severing 
the stalks of the husks containing the oily beech-nuts. 
By and by they will no doubt descend, and ranging 
round will collect the valuable spoil (for they have al¬ 
ready been careful while above to pass over each blank 
or “ blind ” husk that may have come in their way), 
and will then carry it away to some place of security as 
a reserve for the coming winter. 
An old-fashioned writer has said: “The first medita¬ 
tion of a solitary is the behaviour of men in active life.” 
But rather, in the depths of this seclusion, the be¬ 
haviour of the varied forms of animal life may well be 
considered an instructive, if not a more diverting sub¬ 
ject of meditation ; for here, not only in the immediate 
neighbourhood, but among the surrounding trees and 
upon the undulating sward, much may be seen to give 
food for interesting speculation, not only as regards the 
passions, sensations, and desires, but also upon the in¬ 
scrutable instinct possessed by that section of creation 
which we—the lords of it, no less—designate as the 
lower animals. 
But the time has come when this ‘ ‘ Lord of Creation, ’ ’ 
lying prone amid the tangled underwood, must un¬ 
willingly draw his wandering fancies to an abrupt con¬ 
clusion, for an insiduous draught which comes creeping 
over the surface of the ground calls his attention to the 
fact that the sun has set in a crimson glow, and reminds 
him that this October day with all its glorious beauty 
cannot last for ever. — R. E. H ., in Forestry. 
-- 
Scottish Gardening. 
Orchids Abroad. —The following is the first portion 
of the paper on “Orchids Abroad and at Home,” by Mr. 
F. W.Burbidge, Curator, Trinity College Botanic Garden, 
Dublin, which was read at the last meeting of the 
Scottish Horticultural Association, and taken by us from 
The Garden :—The remarks made by the ordinary rank 
and file visitors to the public gardens or floral exhibitions 
are sometimes very amusing. When I was employed in 
the Royal Gardens at Kew, years ago, a lady and little 
boy entered the large Fern house, and stopped to 
admire a group of Gymnogrammas on one of the side 
stages. The Gold Ferns of course took the little one’s 
fancy. “Oh! mamma,” cried he, “look! Look at 
the gold dust on the leaves.” “Yes, my child,” 
answered his mamma, ‘ ‘ that is sulphur. The gardeners 
shake it over the plants to kill the insects that eat the 
foliage ! ” But if one remark is heard oftener than another 
when cultured beauty stands before the most beautiful 
of cultivated flowers, it is this : “Yes! they are indeed 
most lovely ; but what a sight it must be to see them 
in the Tropics! ” This desire to see tropical lands is 
the most seductive, and it has overpowered some of the 
most distinguished men of our age. As an example, 
one need only mention Livingstone. We all know 
how earnestly the Rev. Charles Kingsley yearned for 
the sight of a winterless land ; and in a book which all 
gardeners should read, called ‘ 1 At Last ; or, a Christ¬ 
mas in the West Indies” Kingsley tells us how his 
lifelong wish was gratified. Then we have Banks, 
Darwin, and Hooker, who laid the foundation of their 
great knowledge by travel—men who were urged on 
through difficulties and dangers alike by the spirit 
of discovery, and an earnest desire to see under what 
conditions vegetation existed abroad. Let me there¬ 
fore, as briefly as I can, state the condition under 
which Orchids luxuriate iu warmer lands than ours. 
Orchids may first be broadly divided into earth-loving 
or terrestrial, and tree-loving or epiphytal kinds. 
Again, speaking broadly, one may say that all the 
most beantiful of epiphytal Orchids inhabit the region 
which lies between the two parallels of 30° on either 
side of the equator, this region being practically 
bounded by the isothermal lines of 70 5 Fahrenheit. 
In a word, the epiphytal Orchids form a narrow belt or 
zone around the world ; the most beautiful of the 
truly terrestrial Orchids lie outside this zone. By the 
truly terrestrial kinds I mean Disa grandiflora from the 
Cape of Good Hope, Cypripedium spectabile and its 
allies from N. America, and Orchis foliosa from Madeira. 
Nature, however, is not fond of hard lines, and so she 
fills in her vacuum of extremes by species of a semi- 
epiphytal, or, if you like to put the same facts another 
way, we can say semi-terrestrial kinds, such as the 
Sobralias and Cypripedia of the west, and the Spatho- 
glotti or Arundinas of the east. An Orchid map is 
simply a chart of the world’s greatest heat and rainfall 
under another name, or in other words, Orchids are 
focussed as it were, near the equator, from which they 
radiate in a decreasing ratio to temperate and colder 
regions. One curious fact comes out when we follow 
up this radiating idea of Orchid distribution, which is 
this—when Orchids radiate from the line at or near 
the sea level in a horizontal direction, they, broadly 
speakingd, ecrease in beauty as they recede from the 
equator. But some secure a cooler temperature on the 
mountains by vertical rather than by lateral distri¬ 
bution, and these mountain Orchids of the Tropics, as 
you know, are often quite as beautiful as those of the 
plains. Thus, the eastern lowland Orchids, such as 
Phalsnopsis, Vanda, Aerides, and Dendrobium, are 
but little more beautiful than the higher growing 
Pleiones, Ccelogynes, or than the Yandas and Dendrohes 
of the mountains. So also in the west, the Cattleyas 
and Lielias, and Odontoglots of the lowlands of South 
America, are not much, if anything, more beautiful 
than the Odontoglots, Masdevallias, Cattleyas, &c. of 
the mountain chains. Even in Europe, we find the 
alpine flowers often gain rather than lose in beauty by 
elevation, a fact which I have never seen clearly 
accounted for or explained. 
It is by no means easy to give a clear idea of how 
Orchids exist naturally in the tropics ; but I will clear 
the way by pointing out the facts that all things are 
very much the same as here at home, if we except, first, 
the climate ; and secondly, the vegetation. The climate 
is as hot as that of our warmest glasshouses ; hut there 
is, in addition, an airy freshness not easy of attainment 
in hothouses. The sun heats the earth far more than 
with us ; hence, after rain, the whole country absolutely 
reeks like one large hotbed. In the forest, leaf-mould 
and other debris decay so rapidly that plant food, in 
the shape of aerial gases^is liberated in large quantities ; 
hence vegetation is rampant on all sides. Even in what 
is called the dry season, though rain may be, and often 
is, absent for weeks together, the nightly dews are so 
heavy, that in the early morning every leaf is drenched 
with dew. By the diy road-ways the Cocoa-nut Palm, 
or the Betel Nut-yielding Areca rear their slender stems. 
There are Pitcher Plants and Gleiclienias in the wet 
ditches, and around every little Palm-thatched hut 
grows fruits and vegetables and what we call hot-house 
flowers apparently wild. Here, at home, we cultivate 
some of these, such as Bananas and Pine Apples, by a 
large expenditure in labour and artificial appliances ; 
but in the Tropics, both east and west alike, these 
things are grown by the humblest natives around their 
houses in the open air, with far less trouble and care 
than we must often expend on half a dozen Apple trees, 
or a plot of Potatos or Onions. The magic tropical 
growth is simply great sun-heat and excessive rainfall. 
What we do here at home under a few thousand square 
feet of glass roofing, Nature does over a hundred lands 
larger than our own, and iu a much more complete 
manner. 
A Tropical Forest is rather puzzling to au explorer 
who sees it for the first time. Familiar as he may be 
with hot-house botany, he will scarcely recognise the 
few old friends he meets in their native wilds. Tree 
trunks tower around one like the pillars of a cathedral. 
Some of these trees will be 200 ft. in height, or even 
more, some perhaps less, but their tops meet far over¬ 
head, and their branches interlace and form a sort of a 
leafy roof screen high above. In many places not even 
the light penetrates through the thickly woven tree 
tops, and in these virgin forests you may walk for miles 
without once seeing the sun overhead, so that in 
travelling a compass is used, just as if one were in a 
boat at sea. The rocks and earth at one’s feet are car¬ 
peted with steel-blue Ferns and mossy growths, with 
leafy Begonias, and in Wet places there will be colonies 
of Alocasia or other Aroids in profusion. These woods 
are filled with life of all kinds, bird and beast, gaudy 
insects, and gliding snakes, and, what to the explorer 
is still more annoying, with blood-sucking jungle 
leeches, and with those greatest of all pests in hot cli¬ 
mates, mosquitoes. A native guide will tell you that 
such a locality in these forests is full of Orchids, and 
yet, until you know their habits and their peculiar con¬ 
ditions of growth, you might walk past them and not 
know they were there. I was surprised when I first got 
to Borneo because I saw no snakes; indeed, it was only 
with some difficulty that 1 could at first see them when 
quick-eyed guides pointed the creatures out to me. The 
fact is, one s eyes seem useless among so much of teeming 
variety until one has become accustomed to the colours 
and forms of things as seen under altered conditions 
and under sunshine, which possesses even under partial 
shade somewhat of the brilliancy of limelight. Noth¬ 
ing surprises one more than the bright colours of some 
leaves and the general dullness or lack of floral effect as 
seen in a tropical forest. Of course, when your guides 
and carriers have brought you the Orchids down from 
the tree-tops, to which they must scramble like monkeys 
to get them, then, of course, if they chance to he in 
bloom, many are strikingly lovely. But what I wish 
to convey to you is that, speaking generally, epiphytal 
Orchids make no effect, so to speak, in a tropical land¬ 
scape. That they often bloom far more profusely 
abroad than at home is shown by the quantity of 
flowers produced by even small newly-introduced plants. 
But abroad the wind, the rain, and the fertilising 
insects soon make short work of their beauty. Of 
