242

POISON OF THE UPAS AND TSHITTIK.

indisposition. The poison of the antshar does by no means act so violently, when given internally, to quadrupeds, as that of the tshittik. Dr Horsfield gave it to a dog; it produced at first nearly the same symptoms as a puncture,-oppression of the head, twitchings, faintness, laborious respiration, violent contraction of the pectoral and abdominal muscles, an increased flow of saliva, vomiting, great restlessness and agony, &c. which continued nearly two hours; but after the complete evacuation of the stomach by vomiting, the animal recovered. Rumphius goes so far as to assert that a small quantity may be taken internally as a medicine. In speaking of the qualities of the Arbor toxicaria, he says, the crude and unmixed ipo is an antidote to the bite of venomous fishes and insects; also, that a person affected with an irruption of the skin, may take a small pill of the oopas, which will attract all impurities from the intestines, and carry them off.

The only credible information as to the operation of the antshar on the human system, is contained in the work of Rumphius, who had an opportunity of personally observing the effects of the poisoned darts or arrows as they were used by the natives of Macassar, in their attack on Amboyna in the year 1650. These were also employed by the inhabitants of Celebes, in their former wars with the Dutch. Speaking of this operation, he says, the poison touching the warm blood, is instantly carried through the whole body, so that it may be felt in all the veins, and causes an excessive burning, and violent turning in the head, which is followed by fainting and death. The poison, according to the same author, possesses different degrees of violence, according to its age and different degrees of preservation. The most powerful is called Oopas radja, and its effects are considered as incurable; the other kinds are distributed among the soldiers on going to war. After having proved mortal to many of the Dutch soldiers in Amboyna and Macassar, they finally discovered an almost infallible remedy in the root of the Crinum Asiaticum, (called by Rumphius, Radix toxicaria,) which, if timely applied, counteracted by its violent emetic effect the force of the oopas.

From the experiments on different animals above related, we may form an analogous estimate of its probable effects on man; but, so far as evidence goes, an intelligent Javanese at Banjoo-wangee informed Dr Horsfield, that an inhabitant of that district was wounded in the fore arm, near the arti

'culation of the elbow, in a clandestine manner, by an arrow thrown from a blow-pipe. In about fifteen minutes he became drowsy, after which he was seized with vomiting, became delirious, and in less than half an hour he died.

As a contrast to these deadly poisons, even to name which makes the heart sink, we may mention another tree of a very opposite description, the Sapota galactodendrum, or Cow Tree, which is found on the road from Ourmase to the north-west of Marsory, on the northern declivities of the Andes. This appears to be one of the most curious, as well as useful, vegetable productions of the equinoctial regions, - -a tree which gives a kind of milk entirely analogous to that of the cow. Mr Humboldt informs us that he has seen it used for every domestic purpose. "On the barren declivity of a rock," says he, "grows a tree whose leaves are dry and coriaceous. Its thick ligneous roots scarcely enter the rock; for several months of the year rain scarcely enters its fan-shaped leaves. The branches appear dry and dead. But when an incision is made in the trunk, a sweet and nutricious milk flows from it. It is at the rising of the sun that the vegetable liquid flows most abundantly. Then the natives and Negroes are seen to come from all parts, provided with vessels, to receive the milk, which becomes yellow, and thickens at the surface. Some empty their vessels under the same tree; others carry them to their children. It is like a shepherd distributing to his family the milk of his flock."

This vegetable milk possesses all the physical properties of the milk of animals; only it is a little thicker, and mixes easily with water. When boiled it does not coagulate, but a thick yellow pellicle is formed on the surface. Acids do not form with this milk any coagulum, as with that of the COW. When left to the contact of air, it is altered, and acquires an unpleasant smell similar to that of sour milk; and a pellicle is formed on the surface, which, triturated with caustic potash, exhales ammonia. If some drops of an acid are added to this milk, it may be exposed to the air for a long time without any alteration. Kept in a bottle it does not decompose, but becomes only thicker; and by adding a little water at any time, it regains all its properties. On the fire it presents the same phenomena as cow's milk; the pellicle formed on the surface prevents the expansion of aqueous vapours; and if the evaporation is carried on for a

long time, drops of oil are formed, which increase in proportion as the water evaporates, until they produce an oily liquid; in which swims a fibrous substance, which dries and contracts with the increase of the temperature of the oily liquor; then it exhales a smell very similar to that of meat fried in oil. It appears from the experiments of Rivero and Boussingault, that the milk of the cow tree contains wax, fibrin, a little sugar, the salt of magnesia— certainly not the acetate—and a colouring matter. It contains no albumen, nor curd, nor catechu.

That I may connect this little biographical history of trees with the principal subject of my book, I shall conclude it with an account of three celebrated trees from New Forest, in Hampshire.

The first I shall mention, is that famous tree, against which the arrow of Sir Walter Tyrrel glanced, which killed William Rufus.

Leland tells us, and Camden * from him, that the death of Rufus happened at a place in New Forest, called Througham, where a chapel was erected to his memory. But I meet with no place of the name of Througham in New Forest, and neither the remains nor the remembrance of any chapel. It is probable, that Througham might be what is now called Fritham, where the tradition of the country seems to have fixed the spot, with more credibility than the tree. The chapel might only have been some little temporary oratory, which, having never been endowed, might speedily have fallen to decay: but the tree, it is probable, would be noticed at the time by every body who lived near it, and by strangers who came to see it; and it is as probable, that it could never be forgotten afterwards. They who think a tree insufficient to record a fact of so ancient a date, may be reminded that seven hundred years (and it is not more since the death of Rufus) make no extraordinary period in the existence of an oak. About fifty years ago, however, this tree became so decayed and mutilated, that, in all probability, the spot would have been forgotten, if some

* See Camden's Account of New Forest.

other memorial had not been raised. Before the stump therefore was eradicated, a triangular stone was erected by the late Lord Delaware, who lived in one of the neighbour lodges; on the three sides of which stone the following inscriptions are engraven:

1.

Here stood the oak tree, on which an arrow, shot by Sir Walter Tyrrel at a stag, glanced, and struck King William II, surnamed Rufus, in the breast, of which stroke he instantly died, on the second of August, 1100.

II.

King William II. being thus slain, was laid on a cart belonging to one Purkess, and drawn from hence to Winchester, and buried in the Cathedral church of that city.

III.

That the spot, where an event so memorable happened, might not hereafter be unknown, this stone was set up by John Lord Delaware, who has seen the tree growing in this place.

Lord Delaware asserts plainly, that he had seen the oak tree; and as he lived much on the spot, he had probably other grounds for the assertion, besides the tradition of the country. That matter, however, rests on his authority.

The next tree I shall exhibit from New Forest, is the Groaning Tree of Badesley, a village about two miles from Lymington. The history of the groaning tree is this: About forty years ago, a cottager, who lived near the centre of the village, heard frequently a strange noise behind his house, like that of a person in extreme agony. Soon after, it caught the attention of his wife, who was then confined to her bed. She was a timorous woman, and being greatly alarmed, her husband endeavoured to persuade her that the noise she heard was only the bellowing of the stags in the forest. By

degrees, however, the neighbours on all sides heard it, and the thing began to be much talked of. It was by this time plainly discovered, that the groaning noise proceeded from an elm, which grew at the end of the garden. It was a young vigorous tree, and to all appearance perfectly sound.

In a few weeks the fame of the Groaning Tree was spread far and wide, and people from all parts flocked to hear it. Among others, it attracted the curiosity of the late Prince and Princess of Wales, who resided at that time, for the advantage of a sea-bath, at Pilewell, the seat of Sir James Worsley, which stood within a quarter of a mile of the Groaning Tree.

Though the country people assigned many superstitious causes for this strange phenomenon, the naturalist could assign no physical one that was in any degree satisfactory. Some thought it was owing to the twisting and friction of the roots; others thought it proceeded from water, which had collected in the body of the tree, or perhaps from pent air: but no cause that was alleged appeared equal to the effect. In the meantime, the tree did not always groan, sometimes disappointing its visitants: yet no cause could be assigned for its temporary cessations, either from seasons weather. If any difference was observed, it was thought to groan least when the weather was wet, and most when it was clear and frosty; but the sound at all times seemed to arise from the root.

or

Thus the Groaning Tree continued an object of astonishment, during the space of eighteen or twenty months, to all the country around; and for the information of distant parts a pamphlet was drawn up, containing a particular account of all the circumstances relating to it.

At length, the owner of it, a gentleman of the name of Forbes, making too rash an experiment to discover the cause, bored a hole in its trunk. After this it never groaned. It was then rooted up, with a farther view to make a discovery; but still nothing appeared which led to any investigation of the cause. It was universally, however, believed, that there was no trick