122 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 



these curious creatures does not seem to be generally known 

 we watch it with interest. One of the big fellows flits here 

 and there, nipping first one fruit and then another. At last 

 when a sweet or fully ripe one is found, the bat swoops up 

 to it, alights head downward, and half enveloping it with 

 his wings, bites away frantically for two or three seconds 

 and then dashes off. This is repeated until darkness 

 settles down, but never does the wary bat linger over his 

 feast. 



In the north the sight of a single bat darting along on its 

 eccentric way is not uncommon, but here we were soon to 

 become accustomed to the sight of scores, some pursuing 

 insects, or feeding on fruits, or waiting and watching for a 

 chance to drink the blood of men and animals. More than 

 twenty-five species have been found here within a few miles 

 of the coast. Small Owls and nocturnal insectivorous 

 birds are somewhat rare, and thus the bats have few foes 

 and little competition in their aerial life. 



Late in the evening as we drive slowly homeward from the 

 sea-wall we discover another interesting microcosm of the 

 tropics. The road is well lighted with arc-lamps sources 

 of irresistible attraction to numberless insects, many of which 

 drop stunned to the earth beneath. Some genius among the 

 Georgetown toads has discovered this fact and passed the 

 word along, until now one finds a circle of expectant amphib- 

 ians squatted beneath each arc -light, with eyes and hopes 

 lifted to the shining globe overhead. Now and then an unfor- 

 tunate insect falls within the magic circle, when a toad leaps 

 lazily forward and devours the morsel with one lightning- 

 like flick of the tongue. Many of these toads (Bufo agua) are 

 enormous fellows, a good hatful, standing full eight inches 

 from their pudgy toes to their staring eyes, all comical, 

 dignified, fat and sluggish, barely hopping aside in time to 

 avoid the horse and carriage. 



