NOTES. 67 



Each evening, within half an hour of the lights being lit, the 

 moths appeared in numbers and great variety, and by a quarter 

 past seven there were myriads whirling around the lamps. Pre- 

 dominant among them was Leocyma sericea, a pure white satin- 

 winged Noctuid, about 1| inch, across the wings. 



In walking from the various military quarters to dinner in the 

 mess house, quite short distances, every one was so covered with this 

 moth that we presented the appearance of having come through 

 a snowstorm. The strange thing about Leocyma sericea on this 

 occasion was that amongst those caught or examined I did not see 

 a single male, and as one of the soldiers was helping me we must 

 have seen thousands. 



Most of my work was in the morning from 5.30 to 7.30 search- 

 ing the ground, foliage, lamp-posts, and any buildings where the 

 moths had pitched and rested during the night well into the morning. 

 At one place near the hospital there must have been from five 

 thousand to ten thousand moths, large and small, visible within a 

 radius of twenty yards. The sentry walk was a sludge of wings and 

 bodies, some of the former indicating rare species. 



By 8 A.M. what with the crows, sparrows, swifts, frogs, and heat 

 of the sun scarcely a moth was to be seen, and yet each evening 

 while I was at the camp their numbers seemed as great as ever. 



Ordinarily Leocyma sericea is not a plentiful moth in Ceylon, and 

 at the period of emergence from the chrysalis in September to 

 November one is fortunate in getting three or four of a night at 

 ordinary light, and on these occasions I have not found the females 

 outnumbering the males more than two or three to one. 



F. M. MACKWOOD. 

 Colombo, September 17, 1907. 



6. Singing Fish of Batticaloa. — As one who has lately visited 

 Batticaloa and heard the so-called singing fish in the lagoon there, 

 I wish to give you my impressions of the phenomenon. 



The sound produced (from whatever cause) is not easy to describe, 

 but it may be said at one time to resemble, though may be remotely, 

 that given out by a loose banjo string when struck, and at another 

 to remind one of a distant (very distant) motor horn. I have tried 

 to reproduce it on the piano, and find — at least to my mind — that 

 it corresponds as nearly as possible to the discord produced by 

 striking the notes 6 and c (natural) together, with the soft pedal 

 down. I noticed that the pitch of the singing fish varied at times, 

 going up and down by intervals I could not determine. I will not 

 attempt to formulate a theory with regard to the origin of the 

 musical sound, but I might mention that it recalled to me the 

 high-pitched cry (not the exasperating guttural note) of the frog 



