A NEW ZEALAND GEM

Otago Daily Times, Issue 23330, 23 October 1937, Page 27

A NEW ZEALAND GEM

By G. L. T.

RED KOWHAI

When the Baroness Orczy wrote her classic story of the French Revolution, under the title "The Scarlet Pimpernel," she immortalised the pretty little weed-flower of that name. The dainty flower itself has little real significance in the story, and the idea of using a representation of it as a signature was nothing new, but the choice of such a title was a happy and picturesque thought. There are ether examples of a flower figuring in the title of a book, and we may assert here that if a New Zealand writer were to adopt the same principle, with the proviso that our own flora should be so honoured, then the choice would probably be confined to some half dozen outstanding representatives. If our imaginary author had a flair for colour he might consider red kowhai as a possible title for a New Zealand novel, a title, after all, being very little indication of what lies inside the jacket of a book. This, of course, does not imply that a book should not justify its title, but from many points of view the name of a popular flower might impart a national flavour to the story. Most of us are familiar with the phrase "kowhai gold," and a few may question the existence of a kowhai by any other name, but let us hasten to add that there is good botanical authority for the use of the name " red kowhai," which provides another example of the confusing practice of bestowing several popular names to certain species of flowers. Although there is a similarity in name, the so-called red kowhai belongs to a different genus from that of the yellow kowhai. but both are members of the same order of plants, namelv, the papilonaceae. One of the difficulties of the New Zealand botanist has been that of the standardisation of popular names to our flora, as the average individual has an insuperable aversion to using long botanical names in the Latin tongue. All this, then, means that the subject of our description may be variously called red kowhai, kaka's beak, parrot's bill, or parrot-beaked kowhai. If we insist on its botanical name we must refer to clianthus puniceus, the scarlet cllanthus, a genus of which there are only two species in New Zealand. Though our indigenous flora maylack the brilliant colouring of that of other lands, there are some notable exceptions by way of compensation. The glory of the yellow kowhai has already been referred to. and all New Zealanders have been stirred by the flaming scarlet of the pohutukawa and the rata that had insdred not a few of our native-born poets and painters. In the brilliance and fullness of the high-tide of spring, however, the red kowhai shares the honours among cultivated native plants with its golden namesake, the'contrast of crimson and gold being as vivid and satisfying as the most ardent colourist would desire.

As is the case with the yellow kowhai, the flower of the kaka's beak is the main attraction, for in the one the leaves are generally not fully developed at flowering time, and in the other the somewhat straggling nature of the shrub and the colouring of the leaves do not set off the brilliant scarlet flowers to the best advantage. When we examine the flower we readily recognise that it conforms to the general structural plan of the order leguminosse, which is one of those that few people experience any difficulty in identifying. Many of us may recall our first excursions in the subject of structural botany, and we may remember that the first specimen we dissected was possibly the sweet pea, an introduced relative of our featured flower. The members of this order of plants present none of those puzzling borderline cases in classification that require the genius and patience of a Linnaeus or a Cockayne to solve. Continuing our analysis, we notice with admiration the beauti-fully-curved keel, the "boat" of our school days, actually the two united petals that form the characteristic feature of the order, and make it so easy to identify. Tapering gracefully to the narrow tip, the keel, and the proportions of its dimensions and the perfection of curvature suggest that the old-time Maori may have taken Nature as his guide in the fashioning of his canoes. Certainly the keel of the kaka's beak is an almost perfect miniature of a Maori canoe, and it is not too fantastic to assume that its design may have influenced that of the real canoe. It is the curving keel, with its sharp tip, that suggested the resemblance to the kaka, and hence the popular name bestowed by Maori and European alike. Two small petals close to the calyx are the wings of our fairy boat, and the large petal, the standard, that curves back may be imagined as the sail. Along the ridge of the keel and following the curve inside, like the keelson of a boat, lies the long slender pistil, together with thei 10 stamens which constitute another means of identification in respect of plants belonging to this order. Naturally we should expect that such an attractive flower with its brilliant scarlet petals and picturesque form is widely cultivated, and such is the case, for- the plant is seen in private gardens in all parts of New Zealand, but botanists tell us that it is becoming extinct in the native state, especially on the mainland. That the flower was highly prized even a century ago is evident when we learn that single plants were sold in England in 1831 for £5 each. In view of the approaching centenary the time is perhaps opportune to enter a plea for the increased recognition in our schools of the native flora, for such orientation would undoubtedly assist in developing that subtle emotional factor that we call national consciousness. Every child should, before the end of his school course, be familiar with, and be able to recognise when opportunity offers, such magnificent representatives of our flora as have been mentioned. When we reflect that in many countries the national flower is regarded with something approaching veneration, we have to admit that we in New Zealand have some distance to travel in this direction. Yet we shall never develop a really national spirit in art. literature, or music until as a people we capture that evasive quality which a country possesses in its climate, its configuration, and its flora and fauna. All of which takes time, but there are not lacking indications that these very desirable aims are being slowly but surely realised in this highly-favoured land under the Southern Cross.