FLYING FOXES 135 



The best way to see the fun is to follow the fortunes 

 of one particular bat. The other day I fixed my atten- 

 tion on one stout fellow who had taken up a position at 

 the lower end of a bare branch at the top of a tree. 

 The bough was at least a couple of yards in length and 

 hence was obviously intended "to seat five." A few 

 seconds after this bat had comfortably settled himself 

 for the day, another came up and quietly hooked on 

 to the upper end of the branch. The first comer im- 

 mediately proceeded to abuse him roundly, and sidled 

 up to him with great speed, in precisely the same way 

 as a man, hanging by his arms from a horizontal bar, 

 moves himself along by sliding first one hand and then 

 the other along the bar. The intruder waited for him 

 to come quite close up and then flew off swearing, 

 leaving the prior occupant in sole possession. This 

 individual then edged back to the lower part of the 

 branch. He had scarcely arrived there before another 

 bat hooked itself on to the upper end of the bough. 

 Exactly the same comedy was acted, the original 

 possessor again asserting his prior claim. But he had 

 constantly to fight for it. Within three minutes I saw 

 him drive off five intruders. 



This is but a specimen of the kind of thing that 

 takes place simultaneously all over the tree. Since 

 bats appear to dislike each other's company so in- 

 tensely it is strange that they always roost in large 

 colonies, and invariably in the same tree. Possibly 

 they do so for the sake of safety. A sleeping flying 

 fox is a conspicuous object; and were he alone the 

 eagles, kites, and crows might give him a bad time. 



