102 



ORmTHOLOGIST 



[Vol. 14-No. 7 



with them thin<js on their feet, don't they go 

 tine, though? Say, Mister, give us a ride?" 

 But although they miglit, no doubt, prove 

 fruitful fields to collect from, it is not that 

 kind of bug we are after, and we go on to 

 more congenial fields. 



The first dead pine is attacked, and our 

 hatchets soon start the bark from the trunk, 

 and eager eyes are watching for the little 

 creatures as they lie in their cosy nests, liol- 

 lowed out of the inner bark, the surface of 

 which is furrowed by the hundreds of little 

 beetles whicli infest these trees. 



Our first find is a fine specimen of the Ribbed 

 Bark-beetle {BlKUjium lineatum). It is from 

 one-half to tliree-quarters of an inch in length, 

 of a yellowish-gray color, variegated with 

 black. The head and thorax are much nar- 

 rower than the body, and the antennae barely 

 reach the base of the elytra. Tliey lie in cosy 

 little cells, between the inner bark and the 

 wood, in which they transform from the lar- 

 val state, and from which they bore out in 

 the spring to lay their eggs in the crevices of 

 the bark, again to commence the round of de- 

 struction. A large number are often found in 

 one tree, and an entry in my Field Notes reads, 

 "April 2, Maiden, Mass. Cold and stormy. 

 Over 100 B. lineatum were found in one dead 

 white pine, and twice that number of larvju." 



The next find is Pytho americanHf<, a beau- 

 tiful little beetle, blue above and red beneath, 

 which lives in a similar cell to the last men-, 

 tioned, excepting that the rim of the cell lacks 

 the chips which invariably characterize the 

 former. 



Well do I remember the first time I found 

 this beetle. It was in the woods near my old 

 home in Braiutree, Mass., and I was assidu- 

 ously working away at a dead tree, when a 

 strange beetle dropped from under a strip of 

 bark which I was peeling off, and its bright 

 colors caught my eye as it fell. Down I went 

 on my knees in the snow and dirt to find it 

 before it became buried in the debris. I be- 

 lieve I took fifteen out of that tree, and got 

 logs and piled them up to reach higher. 



Another tree discloses a specimen of the 

 rare Alaus myoi)s, a somewhat larger beetle, 

 gi*ay, with two eye-like black spots on the top 

 of the thorax. This insect belongs to the 

 family of Slaters, or spring beetles, and is 

 closely related to the Cucujo or fire-fiy of the 

 tropics. 



But by this time our toes have become 

 numbed by the straps of our snow-shoes, 

 which have borne too tightly over them, pro- 



tected only by a thin moccasin, and my friend 

 challenges me to a race to the next grove on a 

 hill about one-quarter of a mile distant, to 

 warm ourselves up, and decide who shall pay 

 for the supper when we get back. 



Away we go, skimming along, until a low 

 wall, on a steep side hill, unnoticed in the 

 excitement of the race, catches the toe of my 

 friend's shoe, and over he goes, head first, 

 into the drift beyond, all out of sight but his 

 short legs, looking like barbers' poles, with 

 their striped stockings and waving snow-slu)es, 

 decorated with gay ribbons from the last cos- 

 tume skating carnival. 



As soon as I can recover from my fit of 

 laughter at his mishap, I roll him over, like a 

 big mud-turtle, upon his back, and as he arises 

 and blows the snow from his bushy moustache, 

 he says, "No snow down there, croi)s coming 

 up finely, that field won't need ploi\ghing next 

 spring." But little mishaps like this do not 

 trouble us, and off we go again, until the rap- 

 idly falling snow and the cold winds fairly 

 drive us back to the city, full of renewed life 

 and spirits to once more tackle business affairs. 

 I paid for that supper. Canada won the lace. 



Although it may seem incredible to the 

 ordinary reader that much pleasure can be 

 derived from a tramp in the woods, when the 

 snow is deep, and tlie mercury fast on its way 

 towards zero, with, perhaps, the snow falling 

 fast around you as you tramp over the whit- 

 ened earth; still, the entomologist, as lie 

 glances over these lines, will lie back in his 

 chair, and live over the hours which he passed 

 in just such circumstances. How cold his 

 feet were, as he tramped over the snow, with 

 eyes and senses alert to catch some favorable 

 spot, and when he has stripped the bark from 

 some tree, and found a little insect, for which, 

 perhaps, he has been searching for a long 

 time to fill some vacant spot in his cabinet, 

 how soon are the cold feet and tlie other dis- 

 comforts of the body forgotten. And who 

 would not endure these trifling privations, to 

 look at this insect, properly classified and in 

 its place among others of its tribe, and on the 

 cold winter evenings to sit by the fire and, as 

 we examine its beautiful structure, to live 

 over those hours. 



Sneer at the "bug-hunter" or the "Natural- 

 ist crank," if you will, but he has pleasures 

 which you wot not of, and these little things 

 teach to him grander secrets than all the gar- 

 bled theories of jjast ages. Or perhaps, as he 

 roams the woods, maybe in a strange place, as 

 I once did, with his gun under his arm, for a 



