IV. 



THE NATURALIST IN HIS BUNGALOW. 



'"PHE hot weather is upon us. The time is at hand when 

 the dweller in the plains will become a daily prisoner 

 in his bungalow. The season approaches when men will 

 cry aloud for the mild sunshine of the hills or the cold 

 mists of England. Not least among these complainers 

 will be the naturalist, whom the hot weather debars to a 

 great extent from his favourite pursuit. Right earnestly 

 will he long for the time when he will be able once again 

 to study Nature in comfort. But why cry out for the un- 

 attainable ? Rather let us make the best of what we have. 

 Even within the narrow confines of the darkened bunga- 

 low Nature may be studied. For I am not the only 

 occupier of my home. I am but one among many. Liv- 

 ing behind pictures during the day are two nimble lizards, 

 which come out at eventide and rove up and down the 

 walls in search of prey. One lizard has lost his tail, having 

 probably left it in the hands of a would-be captor. It is, 

 however, not a very serious loss, as it can be replaced. 

 The new tail is just beginning to show. The absence of 

 his tail does not appear to impede him, for he stalks his 

 prey with incomparable craft and agility ; darting now 

 here, now there, and never failing to secure the hapless 

 insect. There would seem to be a kind of etiquette in 

 lizard society, for never do both my lizards hunt together. 

 No sooner is the lamp lit and hung upon the wall than 

 one appears, but one only. The energies of one lizard 

 more than suffice for the scouring of the lit-up hunting 

 ground, so one stands down, while the other ruthlessly 

 3 



