Nocturnal Animals 137 
province have not even a tradition about them. In Europe 
and North America more is known about them, and more 
interest taken in gleaning what little vestiges of their history 
can be recovered from the dim past, than among their own 
degenerate descendants. 
Half way to Juigalpa was an Indian hut and a small clear- 
ing made for growing maize. The fallen trunks of trees were 
a likely place for beetles, and as I had brought a lantern with 
me, I stayed to examine them whilst Velasquez rode on to 
get some food ready. At night many species of beetles, 
especially longicorns, are to be found running over the trunks, 
that lie closely hidden in the day-time. The night-world is 
very different from that of the day. Things that blink and 
hide from the light are all awake and astir when the sun goes 
down. Great spiders and scorpions prowl about, or take up 
advantageous positions where they expect their prey to pass. 
Cockroaches of all sizes, from that of one’s finger to that of 
one’s finger-nail, stand with long quivering antenne, pictures 
of alert outlook, watching for their numerous foes, or scurry 
away as fast as their long legs can carry them; but if they 
come within reach of the great spider they are pounced upon 
in an instant, and with one convulsive kick give up the hope- 
less struggle. Centipedes, wood-lice, and all kinds of creep- 
ing things come out of cracks and crevices; even the pools are 
alive with water-beetles that have been hiding in the ooze all 
day, excepting when they come up with a dash to the surface 
for a bubble of fresh air. Owls and night-jars make strange 
unearthly cries. The timid deer comes out of its close covert 
to feed in the grassy clearings. Jaguars, ocelots, and opos- 
sums slink about in the gloom. The skunk goes leisurely 
along, holding up his white tail as a danger-flag for none to 
come within range of his nauseous artillery. Bats and large 
moths flitter around, whilst all the day-world is at rest and 
asleep. The night speeds on; the stars that rose in the east 
are sinking behind the western hills; a faint tinge of dawn 
lights the eastern sky; loud and shrill rings out the awaken- 
ing shout of chanticleer; the grey dawn comes on apace; a 
hundred birds salute the cheerful morn, and the night-world 
hurries to its gloomy dens and hiding-places, like the sprites 
and fairy elves of our nursery days. 
It was very dark when I started to return, excepting that 
