dians.
In fact, I have nothing more to say about them.

It was here, however, that Roezl met with an adventure which he often
told. His hut, as has been mentioned, was the last of the row--a ruin
patched up to keep the baggage dry. He always carried a folding tressle
and a light board to fix upon it, which made a sort of desk, with a
camp-stool to match. One evening he set himself as usual to write labels
and memoranda for his herbarium. The description of a curious plant
secured that day proved difficult, and darkness had long set in. So
absorbed was the enthusiast in dissecting its anatomy that he gave no
attention to a loud purr, though conscious of the sound for some moments.
At length he raised his eyes. By the open doorway stood a creature whose
dusky fur glistened like silk in the lamplight, and great yellow eyes
stared into his. It was a black jaguar, rarest and most savage of all
felines.

So they remained, staring. Roezl felt his hour had come. He could not have
moved a limb; his hair rose and the sweat poured down. The jaguar also
kept still, purring louder and louder. Its velvet lips were slightly
raised, showing a gleam of the huge fangs. Presently it drew nearer, still
purring--came up to the tressle--arched his back like a cat, and pressed
against it. Crash fell desk, lamp, specimen box, camp-stool and
enthusiast--a clattering overthrow! The servants rushed in. No jaguar was
there.

Roezl used to attribute his escape to the practice of never carrying arms.
When the brute was approaching, he must have fired had a weapon been
handy--no man could resist the impulse. And then, whatever the issue of
the shot, he would certainly have died.

[Illustration: LAELIO-CATTLEYA, x ELEGANS VAR. MACFARLANEI.]

THE CATTLEYA HOUSE

With L. elegans are lodged fine examples of Cattleyas gigas and aurea,
with some of their varieties; generated, as we may assume, by natural
hybridisation. These rank among the supreme treasures of the orchidist,
unequalled for size and rarity--perhaps for beauty. To those who have not
seen the offspring it might seem impossible that the stately loveliness of
the parents could be excelled. But by a very simple process Nature
achieves the feat--she combines their charms.

Of Cattleya gigas we have some two hundred specimens. It is the largest of
the genus, saving its own hybrids, a native of New Granada, discovered by
Warcewicz in 1848. He sent no plants home, and though a few