GENERAL OBSERVATIONS AND SKETCHES AFIELD 289 



ing about on the old reddish wood. These slugs were very 

 sensitive to the finger touch, and, when disturbed, secreted a 

 milky mucus over their bodies which was probably in self- 

 defence. Not far away other worm-like slugs were taking 

 excursions about; these also thrust out two tentacles on the 

 front of the body, showing at once that they were not real 

 worms, which they quite closely resembled. Furthermore, a 

 little study reveals the presence of a very small rudimentary 

 shell on their backs, identifying them as the slug-like snail, 

 Agriolimax campestris. During wet weather these little snails 

 pass up the trunk and branches many yards from the earth. 

 The land snails are everywhere in evidence, from tiny specks 

 to those with circular shells of half an inch in diameter. 



The ungainly harvestmen, or daddy-long-legs, are seen 

 travelling about and now and then entering into seeming 

 play. In the wood interior on rainy days I have always found 

 them in great abundance. 



In the wind and rain the hickory nuts are falling prematurely 

 and here at my feet I gather some only to find, after sectioning 

 wuth my pocket knife, that they are infested by the nut weevil, 

 Balajiinus tiasicus. These are so numerous in some years 

 that the crops of sound hickory nuts are appreciably reduced. 

 Here and there on the trunks of the trees, usually only a few 

 feet from the ground, are found the singular empty cases of 

 the cicada that have become a familiar sight. The wet weather 

 has favored the exit of the pupae from the ground. One before 

 me is just about ready to emerge from the pupa case, while 

 another is in the act of escaping; but I have already treated 

 this subject at some length in another chapter entitled, "The 

 Hunted Cicada." In hollow scars on the beech trunks the 

 tree-toad appears, colored like the surrounding bark. He is 

 especially favored by the wet weather. 



Now, turning my footsteps towards the open country, I 

 have come upon an unexpected view. A wire fence behind 

 the farmyard supports an assemblage of barn and eave swal- 

 lows. About two hundred are lined up on the wire, covering a 

 distance of fifty or more feet. Now and again one leaves his 

 perch to brave the rain, flying into the open meadow, skimming 

 along just over the weed tops. It is needless to say that this 



