Page:Amazing Stories Volume 02 Number 06.pdf/10

Rh John Bannister, frozen stiff with fright, saw his master lifted by his shoulders, up, higher and higher, saw him hanging for a couple of seconds in uncertain balance, and finally disappearing slowly into the calyx of the atrocious, malignant flower, whose petals once more drew themselves together with a start. In this way Sir George celebrated a symbolic marriage with nature, a festival more overcoming, but also more horrible than that for which he had prepared himself. Over the whole scene horror seemed to sweep on dark bat’s wings.

There was the fraction of a second only, and John Bannister had regained his senses. He hastened to the flower with giant paces, drew his knife and tried to destroy the tough tentacles of the plant, closely clinging to each other. The knife went to pieces like glass in his grip, then he seized the axe, and accurately and carefully delivered blow after blow, which swelled up to a sort of clangor, as if a bell were cracking. After ten minutes of strenuous work, he had freed his master from his dangerous position, literally peeled out of a sheath.

Pale as death he lay before him on the grass, a grim and frozen smile as if half of supernatural pleasure, half of the fear of death was on his rigid features. But he breathed, lived, appeared uninjured, and allowed himself to be dragged away as if lifeless.

The return journey was silent and oppressive, first going back to the waiting porters, then the whole party returned to civilization. Nothing could induce Sir Armstrong to open his lips. He stared before him as if his mind had completely left him.

Later when Harriet Richards came to his bed in the hospital, he at first failed to recognize her. Then, while foam appeared at the corners of his lips, he rose up in his bed and with a frightful, piercing yell, he pushed her away

And Sir George has not led Harriet Richards to the altar. Fourteen days after the catastrophe his hair became white as snow. A broken man for the rest of his life, he was taken to the City Insane Asylum, lingered there a year and a half until death set him free.

ETURNING from the burial, John Bannister suddenly saw Daulat Ras, the Yoghi, who seemed to have risen from the ground as by magic. "You had your warning," said he, and an undefinable expression played about his lips. "But how was it," cried out the other, "that Sir George rushed to his fate and to destruction, while I was spared?” On the features of the Asiatic lay the impenetrable mask of the Sphynx. With his forefinger he touched the parchment white face of the old servant. "Blood," said he, meaningly,



N the Island of Sumatra, in the Dutch East Indies, some of the most exotic and curious plants are to be found growing wild. It is here that we must look for the largest flower in the world. On the 19th of March, 1925, a scientist planted a large bud of the Giant Amorphophalle. Twenty-two days later it was 22 inches high. It continued to grow and in June 24th at midday, the point of the spathe begam to unroll itself, and four hours later the flower, which then had a height about 6 feet 6 inches, appeared in all its beauty. M. Dakkus, the scientist conducting the experiment, fortunately took the trouble to photograph the Amorphophalle in its whole expansive bloom, so as to preserve for us the fragile beauty of this rare and transient flower.



In March, 1926, the Amorphophalle presented the appearance of a small tree about 10 feet tall. The plant blooms but once in its life-time.



The Giant Amorphophalle blooming in a Java garden, June 24, 2915. The stick is 2 meters long and the flower 6 feet 6 inches in height.



Thirty-two days after planting, the Giant Amorphophalle presented the appearance of a spire 34 inches in height, as in the photograph above. 