THE TRIBES ON MY FRONTIER. 



a gas lamp but has its guardian gecko, fat with moths and 

 mantises, dragon-flies, grasshoppers, crickets, and cock- 

 roaches, even hard-shelled beetles, but not blister-beetles. 

 These would irritate their little insides, for the sake of 

 which alone they live. 



The only genteel member of the family is the green lizard. 

 Its manners are graceful and unassuming, and its external 

 appearance is always in harmony with the best taste, while 

 it does not betray that ceaseless hankering for provisions 

 which stamps the rest of them. It is timid and retiring, but 

 as the sun grows hot in the forenoon you will hear it rust- 

 ling among the leaves (virides rubum dimovcre lacerta), 

 then it will come softly up the steps, behind the calladium 

 pots and along the wall of the verandah, and perhaps, if you 

 keep very quiet, into the drawing room. It does little good, 

 eats a few ants, perhaps, but it enjoys itself and does no 

 harm, and I have always had a leaning towards the green 

 lizard. 



I do not know whether I should class the chameleon 

 among my frontier tribes, for the only one about my terri- 

 tories was bom near Ahmednugger and is a state prisoner 

 with me like Yakoob Khan. His residence is a canary cage 

 with green muslin all round it to keep in the flies which I 



