CHAPTER I 



BATS 



Go out any warm still evening into your 

 garden, whether it be a town or country one ; 

 wait and watch for a few minutes, and as the 

 light begins to fail you will see the shadowy 

 shapes of the bats wheeling and turning against 

 the sunset sky. There are big ones and little 

 ones, tiny things flittering up and down the 

 hedgerows, bigger ones flying round the trees, 

 and larger still dashing by high overhead with 

 strong purposeful flight. Strange shrill squeaks 

 fill the air as they turn and twist and chase one 

 another, tumbling sometimes through the air 

 as if romping and playing together. So high 

 is the note, so shrill the voices, that many people 

 cannot hear the bats calling to one another; 

 they stand and listen and do not hear a sound, 

 yet the evening air will be full of tiny voices, 

 of high-pitched squeaks, as the little ' flitter- 

 mice ' race and chase the moths and other 

 night-flying insects to and fro. 



A 1 



