And where the
nectar is, there will the sun-birds be gathered together--a sweeter
notion, truly, than carcases and eagles.
And this nectar, clear as dew-drops, sweet with an aftertaste of some
scented spice--a fragile pungency--was ever liqueur so purely compounded?
Drawn from untainted soil; filtered and purified; passed from one
delicate process to another, warmed during the day, cooled by night
airs, chastened by breezes which have all the virtue of whole Pacific
breadths; sublimated by the sun--all to what end, to be proffered to
birds and butterflies in ruddy goblets full to the brim.
THE GENUINE UPAS-TREE
Powerful as nutmeg pigeons are on the wing, some suffer lingering deaths
in consequence of a singular characteristic of one of the trees of the
jungle. Tall and graceful, with luxuriant glossy leaves, there is
nothing uncanny about the tree. In style and appearance it is the very
antithesis of "the upas-tree," upon which legendary lore cast unmerited
responsibility. Yet in certain respects it would be vain to enter upon
its defence. It is no myth. There is no exaggeration in the statement
that the character of the Queensland tree is actually murderous, and
that it counts its victims by the thousand every season.
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