Its form was that of a truncated cone, and its sides densely covered with trees of some size.
The voice of Helen called him from his perch, and he descended quickly, leaping into a mass of brushwood growing at the foot of his tree.

Helen stood a few yards from him, in admiration, before a large shrub.
"Look, Mr.Hazel, what a singular production," said the girl, as she stooped to examine the plant.

It bore a number of red flowers, each growing out of a fruit like a prickly pear.

These flowers were in various stages; some were just opening like tulips, others, more advanced, had expanded like umbrellas, and quite overlapped the fruit, keeping it from sun and dew; others had served their turn in that way, and been withered by the sun's rays.

But, wherever this was the case, the fruit had also burst open and displayed or discharged its contents, and those contents looked like seeds; but on narrower inspection proved to be little insects with pink transparent wings, and bodies of incredibly vivid crimson.
Hazel examined the fruit and flowers very carefully, and stood rapt, transfixed.
"It must be!--and it is!" said he, at last.