Professor Jonkins Cannibal Plant | Page 4

pet you have! One

that tries to eat you alive! But I've got to do something if I want to save
you. Where's the ax?"
"No! No!" begged the professor, his voice becoming more and more
muffled. "Use chloroform."
"Use what?"
"Chloroform! You'll find some in the closet."
Then Adams saw what the professor's idea was. The plant could be
made insensible, and the imprisoned man released with no harm to the
blossom.
He raced down the ladder, ran to a closet where he had seen the
professor's stock of drugs and chemicals stowed away on the occasion
of former visits, and grabbed a big bottle of chloroform. He caught up a
towel and ran back up the ladder.
Not a sign of the professor could be seen. The plant had swallowed him
up, but by the motion and swaying of the flower Adams knew his
friend was yet alive.
He was in some doubt as to the success of this method, and would
rather have taken an ax and chopped a hole in the side of the blossom,
thus releasing the captive. But he decided to obey the professor.
Saturating the towel well with the chloroform, and holding his nose
away from it, he pressed the wet cloth over the top of the blossom
where the lid touched the edge of the bloom.
There was a slight opening at one point, and Adams poured some of the
chloroform down this. He feared lest the fumes of the anesthetic might
overpower the professor also, but he knew they would soon pass away
if this happened.
For several minutes he waited anxiously. Would the plan succeed?
Would the plant be overcome before it had killed the professor inside?

Adams was in a fever of terror. Again and again he saturated the towel
with the powerful drug. Then he had the satisfaction of seeing the lid of
the pitcher plant relax.
It slowly lifted and fell over to one side, making a good-sized opening.
The strong filaments, not unlike the arms of a devil fish, Adams
thought, were no longer in uneasy motion. They had released their grip
on the professor's legs and body.
The spines which had pointed downward, holding the plant's prey, now
became limber.
Adams leaned over. He reached down, grasped the professor by the feet,
and, being a strong man, while his friend was small and light, he pulled
him from the tube of the flower, a little dazed from the fumes of the
chloroform the plant bad breathed in, but otherwise not much the worse
for his adventure.
He had not reached the water at the bottom of the tube, which fact
saved him from drowning.
"Well, you certainly had a narrow squeak," observed Adams as he
helped the professor down the ladder.
"I did," admitted the botanist. "If you had not been on hand I don't
know what would have happened. I suppose I would have been eaten
alive."
"Unless you could have cut yourself out of the side of the flower with
your knife," observed Adams.
"What! And killed the plant I raised with such pains?" ejaculated the
professor. "Spoil the largest Sarracenia Nepenthis in the world? I guess
not. I would rather have let it eat me."
"I think you ought to call it the cannibal plant instead of the pitcher
plant," suggested Adams.

"Oh, no," responded the professor dreamily, examining the flower from
a distance to see if any harm had come to it. "But to punish it, I will not
give it any supper or breakfast. That's what it gets for being naughty,"
he added as if the plant were a child.
"And I suggest that when you feed it hereafter," said Adams, "you pass
the beefsteaks in on a pitch-fork. You won't run so much danger then."
"That's a good idea. I'll do it," answered the professor heartily. And he
has followed that plan ever since.

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