14 THE ENTOMOLOGIST. 



amount of skill is necessary to overcome the difficulties. The 

 net becomes an awkward instrument in a tangled forest, and 

 the only available method is to watch for them in small open 

 spots, and seize upon those which pass, for pursuit is next to 

 impossible. Many of the species fly with amazing rapidity 

 and strength of wing, and in some cases pursue a straight 

 line through the maze of branches, eluding nearly every 

 attempt to capture them, except by stratagem. Others, often 

 the most handsome insects, fly habitually so high that they 

 are usually out of reach of the net. In all such cases the 

 sacrifice of a single specimen will often secure others, for 

 butterflies are gregarious ; and a dead specimen pinned upon 

 a conspicuous twig will often arrest an insect of the same 

 species in its headlong flight, and bring it down within easy 

 reach of the net, especially if it be of the opposite sex. 

 Sugaring the trees has not been tried by entomologists in 

 this part of the world, and the use of a lamp behind a sheet, 

 found so effectual for nocturnal captures by Mr. Wallace, 

 has not yet been seriously tried. 



The jungle-road, extending nearly across the island, and 

 the skirts of the jungle, always proved to me the most prolific 

 spots, the insects dashing out for a little distance, and pur- 

 suing their erratic flight through the open, in which case, if 

 near, there was a chance of a capture. But even here it was 

 often tantalizing to see a rare and beautiful species fly out of 

 one side of the jungle, cross the road with the speed of a 

 race-horse, and irrecoverably disappear in the thicket on the 

 opposite side, almost before one could draw breath. The 

 swift flight, now over the tops of the trees, now down near 

 the ground, was characteristic of the Pieridae, while the 

 Papilionidae distinguished themselves by their strength of 

 wing and straight headlong course. 



Another source of disappointment arose from the fact that 

 not unfrequently, when one thought oneself fortunate in 

 capturing a fine insect, after carefully disentangling him from 

 the net, his wings turn out to be so torn and rubbed as to 

 render him almost useless, except indeed as a decoy. This 

 circumstance is due, I imagine, partly to their frequent 

 battles with one another, in which they whirl round one 

 another with the greatest rapidity, and appear to be incited 

 by the greatest ferocity, and partly to their habit of flying 



