From this point we again ascended to the higher level of the garden by a path paved with pebbles and cut into steps. Then "faring on our way," we reached the division marked Anonaceæ, and there my eye came upon a sight which rivalled in wonder the golden bough of the sixth Æneid which the doves of Venus showed to Æneas:
"Tollunt se celeres, liquidumque per aëra lapsæ,
Sedibus optatis geminæ super arbore sidunt,
Discolor unde auri per ramos aura refulsit."
In this case the "contrasting golden beam" shone not from the foliage, but, stranger still, from the black trunk of a tall tree. It was a stelecho-karpus, or stem-flowering tree. The trunk from which the deep saffron flowers sprang was about one foot and three inches in diameter, and the flowers themselves were much like bunches of primroses, only darker in colour and divested of their leaves. Unlike Æneas, we passed forward without any floral spoils—for, indeed, we had no such awkward personage as Charon to reckon with—among dark, cool, tree-arched avenues of figs and banyans to the northern limit. On our way we paused once to notice a fine "sacred fig" of India (urostigma), a tree with remarkably angular boughs; and again when Dr. Treub stopped, and, pointing to the frangipane blossom, said, "That is the flower of religion in India, being sacred to Buddha; the Malays here call it the 'flower of the dead.'" In this quarter the trees were larger and of more robust growth, and the appearance of the garden more natural to my Northern eyes. A sudden turn brought us to a projecting spur, on which was built a little summer-house commanding a view of the surrounding country. Far away the double mountain Pangerango and Gedé rose blue and shadowy, with just a wreath of smoke showing from the volcanic peak. In the middle ground stretched masses of tropical forests edging the bright green terraces of the savah land. At our feet the river ran bubbling and fretting over the brown stones.
In returning we skirted the central lake, and, having crossed the avenue, passed down a broad roadway lined with rich foliage. This was so arranged as to afford a view of Mount Salak to the southern windows of the Governor-General's residence. It was one of the many glimpses which appeared of a sheer height of dark azure contrasted with the bright green of palm or bamboo. Leaving this, we passed down an avenue of Brazilian palms, running parallel to the Canary Avenue. Each tree was almost too faultlessly perfect in its graceful foliage and smooth rounded stem, and of apparently equal height. Round the surfaces of these stems the green leaves and purple flowers of convolvuli clung. A few yards beyond the termination of this avenue we left the path and entered a wilderness of climbing plants. Carefully advancing (for there were arms stretched out on every side ready to pluck flesh or clothing), we took our stand opposite the coils of a huge climbing palm.
"There are branches," said Dr. Treub, "from this plant six hundred feet in length; it passes, as you see, from tree to tree."
On reaching the path, I found that we had completed the circuit of the gardens, and were once more in the neighbourhood of the nurseries and buildings. These latter are numerous and extensive, for the curator of the Buitenzorg gardens aims not only at obtaining a wide range of vegetable products, and thus serving the needs of colonial industries, but also at accomplishing researches in the pathology and physiology of plants. In this way Dr. Treub expects a useful development for the tropical gardens generally, which he considers have only lately become genuine centres of scientific research. At Buitenzorg, in addition to a museum containing an extensive herbarium and a botanical library of over five thousand volumes, there are numerous laboratories and offices accommodating the curator and his three assistants, and draughtsmen, who are competent to employ the methods of photography and lithography in reproducing the forms of plants. Under the direction of this staff there are employed a number of natives, including three Malays with special botanical knowledge, a head-gardener, and nine under-gardeners, and scarcely less than a hundred coolies. Altogether there are nine thousand distinct species of plants contained in the gardens. On our way to the strangers' laboratory we passed a number of trellis-work houses, with creepers trained over their sides and roofs. "You see," said Dr. Treub, with a smile, "we have cool houses here instead of hot houses. They are for forest plants accustomed to coolness and shelter."
I was especially asked to notice the completeness of the arrangements made for scientific visitors. The laboratory is seventy-five feet in length, and opposite each of the ten windows (five on either side) is placed a table fitted with optical instruments and other necessary means of botanical research. It is also provided with a small library and herbarium. In reference to the strangers' laboratory, Dr. Treub remarked that he specially desired to see Englishmen avail themselves of it. German and French savants had come to Buitenzorg to study, but no Englishmen as yet.
I visited these gardens on several occasions during my short stay at Buitenzorg, and often wandered among the dark tree-arched paths and avenues. On each occasion I found some new beauty. One day it was a lakelet covered with great water-plants; another day a gorgeous plot of orchids, or a fresh piece of landscape. These subsequent visits, however, lacked that which gave so great a charm to my first walk through the gardens—the spontaneous courtesy and graceful learning of the curator.
