218 THE entomologist's KECORD. 



gave one a glimpse of its white forewings and brilliant orange hind- 

 wingS as it crossed and recrossed the sunnier spaces, and once I saw 

 the Hash of the metallic green spots on the hindwings of the gorgeous 

 Papilio arjioio var. teni/nereiisis. Here, too, I caught Hi/psi'lis vera and 

 both sexes of Si/)iibrent/iia (■(injliu'im var. Jara)iu>i. Both sexes of the 

 former and the male of the latter closely resemble a brown Xc/itis as 

 they rest on the extremity of a branch, but their flight is much swifter; 

 the female Si/iiibicnthia, in Java, resembles the common blaclv and 

 white Xcptis Inicotlm'e, though elseAvhere it is brown and black like the 

 male. 



Mounting higher and higher we left the coft'ee plantations 

 behind and reached the steep bare slopes and deeply cut ravines of the 

 Tengger Mountains. Their forests have all been cut down long ago 

 and no trees have been left, except here and there a fine old tjemara 

 (Casiiarina) tree with graceful tamarisk-like foliage. Many young ones 

 have been planted recently by the Dutch, but have not yet had time to 

 alter the somewhat barren aspect of the hills. Every available piece 

 of ground is cultivated, chieflj^ with Indian corn, the staple food of the 

 natives, replacing rice, which, it is said, they vowed never to eat again 

 after they were driven from the plains by the victorious Mohammedans. 

 Cabbage and other homely vegetables are also grown in great quantities 

 to supply the cities of the plain. In the late afternoon I arrived at 

 the Sanatorium Tosari, a comfortable hotel, built on a small plateau 

 in the style usual in this country, and lying nearly 6,000 feet above sea 

 level. It consists of low pavilions, one containing the public rooms, the 

 others the bedrooms, each opening independently on to a broad 

 verandah. The drawing-room was upholstered in red velvet and made 

 a quaint contrast with the bedrooms, which were furnished in a style 

 suited to the tropics, but its brilliant lights were most attractive to 

 moths at night, though, but for the rules of the hotel by which the 

 lights were all turned out at 10.80, the number of interesting species 

 taken Avould have been much larger. 



On the morning after my arrival I left the hotel at 4 a.m. to see 

 the active volcano. My journey up the steep slippery path, so steep in 

 parts that it is cut in steps, mounted on a small pony and guided by a 

 native torchbearer, was by no means lacking in excitement. We 

 reached the edge of the crater at 6 a.m. and had breakfast. To the 

 geologist this is a most interesting region. The summit of the mountain 

 is formed by an enormous, almost perfect crater four or five miles in 

 diameter. It is no longer active, and its floor is formed by sand and 

 volcanic debris, the " sand sea." In the centre of this four small 

 volcanic cones have been erupted at different times and form a complex 

 group. The nearest, the Batok, is an almost perfect cone, and looks so 

 bare and uniform that it appears lo be artificial. The active volcano, 

 the Bromo, lies behind, and is half hidden. It is always pouring oat 

 smoke, and the dull roar from its crater was clearly heard. All the 

 trees on the steep sides of the main crater, here called the tjemara- 

 lawang (gate of the spirits), are scorched, though they lie nearly two 

 miles from the Bromo. When I reached this, the "sand sea" was full 

 of white mist, above which peeped the Batok and the other craters. 

 Beyond the far side was the sharp cone of the Semeroe volcano 

 (12,000 feet high), which is also in constant eruption. As the sun 

 rose, the mist gradually melted away, and huge clouds of white smoke 



