1 62 The Irish Naturalist. 



representatives which we took in these sandhills of Rush 

 were Hypera variabilis, the Cneorlmius, Heliopatlics, and 

 Microzouni, and of these only two or three individuals. The 

 two Otiorrhynchi, sulcatus, and atroapterus, which seemed to be 

 the most plentiful beetles there, are almost unknown on the 

 Cheshire dunes, while the only geodephagous beetles we took 

 were Dyschirius thoracicus and Harpalus tardus, which latter 

 we take in Cheshire on heaths, and not on the sandhills at all. 



On the whole, the coleopterous fauna evident on these Rush 

 sandhills was disappointingly small. This we attribute prin- 

 cipally to the weather which then prevailed, but also, to some 

 extent, to the fact that there appeared to be no herbiverous 

 animals grazing among them, and consequently no Aphodii, 

 Staphyli?iidce, etc., and more especially to the low elevation of 

 these hills compared with those on the Cheshire coast. These 

 high summits are a great protection from the wind, and their 

 enclosed hollows and deep rifts act as traps, and are the means 

 whereby those beetles which inhabit them are retained in their 

 recesses, instead of being blown out to sea or across to the un- 

 suitable cultivated land on the other side. I believe that this 

 is the true explanation of the vast number of individuals of 

 such species as people these localities, and which are seen 

 crawling all over the bare slopes on every sunny spring da}^ 



The only other beetle we took here was a specimen of Bros- 

 cus cephalotes, hidden, as usual, under a loose piece of drift- 

 wood. Just at this point, a narrow arm of sea cuts us off from 

 a vast extent of desolate-looking sands, which appear to stretch 

 almost to opposite Malahide. Turning round to the left, be- 

 fore striking up into the countr}^, a low grassy bank claimed 

 our attention, and here we took that fine Chrysomela banksii, 

 and also a specimen of Xa?itholinus tricolor. That was our 

 last capture. A tedious and uninteresting road lay between 

 that point and Swords, whose ruined castle and ivy-clad tower 

 we were anxious to reach that afternoon. The bag amounts 

 to something like thirty-five species, none of them specially 

 valuable, and none new to the Irish list. But we have had a 

 pleasant morning's walk in a district to us quite new, and as 

 we catch the outlines of the great Wicklow mountains, dim 

 against the southern sky, we promise to ourselves some further 

 exploration into their recesses, and console ourselves with the 

 possibility of fine upland species to be discovered there. 



