The measurements made from the
dried specimen I have given already, so I need not repeat them. I may
say here, however, that the Pongo augured the fertility or otherwise
of each succeeding year from the number of the blooms on the Holy
Flower. If these were many the season would prove very fruitful; if
few, less so; while if, as sometimes happened, the plant failed to
flower, draught and famine were always said to follow. Truly those
were glorious blossoms, standing as high as a man, with their back
sheaths of vivid white barred with black, their great pouches of
burnished gold and their wide wings also of gold. Then in the centre
of each pouch appeared the ink-mark that did indeed exactly resemble
the head of a monkey. But if this orchid astonished me, its effect
upon Stephen, with whom this class of flower was a mania, may be
imagined. Really he went almost mad. For a long while he glared at the
plant, and finally flung himself upon his knees, causing Miss Hope to
exclaim:
"What, O Stephen Somers! do you also make sacrifice to the Holy
Flower?"
"Rather," he answered; "I'd--I'd--die for it!"
"You are likely to before all is done," I remarked with energy, for I
hate to see a grown man make a fool of himself.
Pages:
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476