A BUTTERFLY HUNT IN SOME PARTS OF UNEXPLORED FRANCE. 59 
fairly plentiful. Except a few shabby Cassioides and the 
ubiquitous C. phicomone, there was nothing to tempt me from 
the rock behind which, and sheltered from the keen wind, I dis- 
posed of my lunch. So I devoted the greater part of the time 
on each occasion to Alecto-Duponcheli. 
July 22nd, the hottest day of the month, I spent working 
down the Verdon river-bed, which, in the customary way of 
Alpine torrent streams, breaks up into many subsidiary chan- 
nels, leaving broad stony islets covered with dwarf willow, 
lavender, Epilobium angustiflorum, great clumps of Astragalus 
alpinus (?), and tangled vetches, with occasional tufts of wild 
thyme. The lavender was especially affected by A. escheri, 
P. argyrognomon, and females of C. alciphron var. gordius, the 
latter in poor condition, while Anthrocera fausta gleamed ver- 
million-winged in equal abundance with A. carniolica. The 
steep cliffs of the right bank, however, disclosed no LE. scipio, as 
I had hoped, after a long search for a ford waded knee-deep 
through spring-cold water. A rare pool for trout at all events; 
and trout is the picce de résistance of every meal in these delec- 
table mountains. Returning to the causeway at the end of the 
long poplar avenue, which extends for a mile or so, the valley 
once more opens out, and on the left bank, where the old road 
follows the course of the river, there is a sun-burnt stretch of 
waste land with sparse berberis bushes, mullein, and again some 
fine lavender in full bloom. IT’. acteon, A. thersites and Issoria 
lathonia were the principal visitors; on the dusty upper road 
Satyrus circe was flying with S. alcyone, but very little besides, 
and it was not until I was well in sight of Colmars itself that 
I could get a draught of drinking water at a hospitable farm- 
house, in the garden of which the ripe red currants hung in 
‘luscious clusters. 
The neighbouring lucerne fields were gay with Colias edusa 
and C. hyale, but so great was the heat of the afternoon that at 
two o'clock I boarded the P.L.M. motor and was quickly rushed 
back to Allog. Above the village and right up to the Col there 
is very little promising ground. The slopes on this side are 
mostly disafforested and grazed close. I tried not to think that 
the few Erebias I saw from the car, when on my journey of the 
24th to Barcelonnette, were H. scipio. I am now sure they 
were not—only stygne. 
I have been asked where, in my Continental wanderings, I 
have found butterflies in the greatest profusion. It is not an 
easy question to answer, for ‘‘ distance lends enchantment to 
the view ’’ of most entomologists when the time arrives to survey 
in retrospect the happy hunting grounds of the past. I am 
inclined to think that certain stages of the road to the Lac 
d’Allos I have attempted to describe come nearest to El Dorado. 
Then follow the Kaux Thermales valley at Digne, in June; 
