228 THE ENTOMOLOGIST. 
out of reach. This I surmise because Mr. Spiller does not make 
any mention of them in his notice. They are both very handsome 
and conspicuous insects. 
I will now follow Mr. Spiller’s remarks, amplifying them as 
far as I am able by my own personal observations. 
PAPILIONIDS. 
The Papilionide naturally claim our first attention. Of these 
the giant Papilio Menestheus (or Ophidocephalus) taking precedence, 
both from his beauty and size. I believe that the latter form 
(Ophidocephalus), like many other species, is only a derivative 
form of a West-African insect; and although I cannot assert it, 
I believe both the true Menestheus and the derived Ophidocephalus 
are present in the Colony. From Mr. Spiller’s experience he 
seems to have been unlucky in meeting with this prize. I have, 
however, taken it on the wing near Verulam, and also freely in 
the big “‘ Bush” he speaks of as producing leopards. I know the 
bush well, but never saw the leopards, and never carried a brace 
of revolvers. At the summit of a long ridge, in the middle of this 
bush and not very accessible, was a long open glade where the 
undergrowth of thorny climbers (asparagus, &c.) were not quite so 
abundant as in the lower glades. Here I made a collecting station, 
spending many days from noon to two o’clock in watching the 
denizens of the bush and taking what seemed worth the while. 
And here was the first attempt I made to capture Ophidocephalus. 
Like most Papilios, he is a great traveller, coursing along at twenty 
miles an hour, just below the highest boughs of the open trees, 
perhaps twenty feet high, and out of reach; but I noticed that 
there were two spots where he had to dip under lower branches 
in consequence of the glade narrowing, and here came within 
jumping distance of my seven-foot net. My first attempt led to 
ruthless destruction of my net, for, having taken up a position, I 
struck swiftly and with right good will at the next specimen which 
came past. He escaped with a dive, but my net and nearly 
myself were inextricably impaled on a thousand thorns of a 
festoon of liana. It cost me half-an-hour to clear away the 
wreck, and meanwhile, as if in spite, whilst thus helpless, specimen 
after specimen dived at me in an interrogative way and “passed 
on, on the other side.” By the time I was at last free I had learnt 
that, if I cleared the thorny plants away and got my net in order, 
