POPE: WEST INDIAN ANURA IN BERMUDA. 127 



until it is larger than the head. Then the air is taken back into the 

 lungs again, expanding the body in turn, while the throat pouch nearly 

 disappears. The flash-light picture (Plate 2, fig. 5) shows a male sit- 

 ting on a rusty tin box and singing. The call had just been given, the 

 throat pouch was collapsed and the body inflated when the flash went 

 off. 



The call is a thin, high-pitched whistle, somewhat like that of the 

 Spring peeper, Hyla pickcringii, though rather more bird-like than 

 that. Some notes are trilled a little, but the general effect is much 

 like the spring chorus that we hear in the swamps. Unlike that, 

 however, this chorus is not a temporary thing during the breeding 

 season, for it continues all summer, apparently as long as the animal 

 is active. Residents say that the chorus begins in April and ceases 

 late in October or early in November, when the animal becomes 

 dormant. 



This story of the hibernation of the frog may or may not be true. 

 The call ceases, but whether the frog is still active I do not know. It 

 may really be hibernating or merely silent during the winter. Since 

 most of the people have never seen one, they have no way of knowing 

 except by the call. 



Dr. Crozier tells me that his observations in 1915 agree with the 

 popular idea, but in the winter of 1916-1917 they continued calling 

 in small numbers most of the winter. His latest word on the subject 

 follows : 



"Mar. 1(3, 1917. I have not heard a 'whistling frog' now for about 

 three weeks, perhaps a little more." 



"April 15, 1917. Search for nests of E. johnstonei resulted in dis- 

 covering several quite 'sleepy' nests of them on April 10th, and on 

 April 14th I found under my front door step, buried in moist earth, 

 a closely packed batch of more than a dozen. They ' came to life ' 

 very quickly, and in two minutes w r ere jumping all over the place. 

 A number were secured. The woods are full of them, singing as I 

 write as least it sounds so." 



It is their abundance and their persistent singing that makes 

 Bermuda people consider the " whistling frogs" such a nuisance. The 

 call is not disagreeable in itself, but I can readily see how anyone 

 could get very tired of hearing it all summer long from the shrubbery 

 under his window. When I was collecting them beside the road the 

 usual comment of the passerby was: "I wish you'd catch them all." 



In spite of its long continuation, the call may be the mating song 

 of the male, for I have seen behavior that may have been equivalent 

 to a courtship. On July (3, 1916, 1 saw three pairs acting in the follow- 



