N. GYLDENSTOLPE, MAMMALS COLLECTED IN SIAM. 3 



tation even wben close to it, and it seems rather incredible, 

 that they can slip off as quietly as they do when disturbed 

 among tbe tangle which seems almost impenetrable and where 

 one often bas to cut one's way among the rich undergrowth 

 of low trees and plants wbich are closely interlaced by masses 

 of Hånas and creepers. 



The best time for observing the jungle denizens are the 

 early mornings and the dusk; the best time of the year for 

 big-game shooting is without doubt the end of the dry season 

 when all animals assemble near the few known waterplaces. 

 As a rule the dry grass and leaves are then burnt, which is 

 of a great importance for a silent stalking. 



Several times I passed through forests where game such 

 as elephants, tigers, leopards, buffaloes and deer were plenti- 

 ful according to the number of fresh tracks, but although I 

 marched as silently as possible and kept a good lookout I very 

 seldom caught a glimpse of a wild animal when it pushed 

 its way through the dense jungles. 



The only mammals which are to be seen more frequently 

 are squirrels, and now and then some monkeys, but even 

 these animals are more often heard than seen. 



During the night-time it is, however, quite different and 

 then the jungles are full of life. 



1. Fithecus fascicularis Raffles. — Small parties of 

 the Crab-eating monkeys were observed several times during 

 my travels along the coast of the Gulf of Siarn and along the 

 Menam Chao Phaya river south of Bangkok. They were not 

 shy and were often seen running about on the muddy shores 

 at low tide in search of food. They frequent most often the 

 mangrove swamps, and their food consists chiefly of the man- 

 grove fruits, crabs and shellfish. 



The Crab-eating monkeys like water much more than 

 other members of the same family, and I once observed some 

 specimens happily tumbling in the river. All the Crab-eating 

 monkeys 1 observed along the Menam Chao Phaya river south 

 of Bangkok seemed to be very accustomed to the sight of 

 boats, and they never fled into the mangrove forests 

 even when a big steamer or a motorboat passed at a close 

 distance. At such occasions they only left off feeding 

 for a few minutes curiously gazing at the passing vessels. 



