12 THE ENTOMOLOGIST. 



did however yield an hour or two of warmth, and whenever the 

 sun broke through for a minute or two butterflies became 

 tantalisingly profuse. I was especially anxious to investigate the 

 Hesperiids of Drome, but though I worked hard at this point 

 and quartered every acre of the likely-looking ground, I only 

 succeeded in netting one of the elusive Black-and- White Skippers 

 which whizzed past me at long intervals, but seemed never to 

 rest upon the wing and to disappear like magic the moment the 

 light failed. This one example is of considerable interest all 

 the same. It is a splendid male Hesperia alveus — a true moun- 

 tain species as we now know, and entirely different from H. 

 armoricamis, the "^ alveus " of the plains as heretofore supposed. 

 The coloration of the under side is also quite different to that of 

 my Pyrenean and Swiss Alpine examples, the ground tint being 

 deep rich green and not yellow- or olive-green, in this respect 

 resembling a single example of the same species taken by me last 

 year at Herkulesbad. Another surprise was the first Colias 

 captured — C. phiconione — a male, the largest I have seen ; and 

 this at the lowest altitude I ever encountered the species — about 

 3000 ft. (Mr. Wheeler places the range in the Central Alps from 

 4000 ft. to 8000 ft., but mentions one even lower record, 2240 ft., 

 Oberstalden (Frey) ). Of the Lycaenids, Polyommatus hylas was 

 the most distinguished — a few males — and Alicia medon 

 (astrarche) the commonest ; and the latter, if not actually 

 abundant, at least fiyiug together in some quantity. Pleheius 

 argus males were also well to the fore, and there were plenty of 

 Lyccena avion males flitting with M. galatea over a little patch of 

 wheat at the foot of the slopes, the blades swaying in the wind 

 seeming also to have a peculiar fascination for P. apollo as 

 it made a regular up-and-down hill flight. C. hyale, very 

 swift on the wing, was common. But before noon the clouds 

 were up, and the night at La Chapelle-en-Vercors, in the cleanest 

 of little inns, so cold and grey, that I was again on the road south 

 at five in the morning, bound for the Col de Kousset in the 

 voiture puhlique which here, at all events, has not been snuffed 

 out by the motor. At this time of day, with a dour sky and 

 keen wind blowing, the road from La Chapelle to La Britiere 

 and Ptousset at the foot of the Col seemed uninviting. From the 

 latter village, however, the road becomes decidedly interesting, 

 and with sun and blue sky later in the day would no doubt be 

 productive, though it is still quite northern in character — 

 forest-trees and flora alike. 



Finally, plunging into a long tunnel, we emerged at the 

 Eefuge just below the actual summit of the Col de Eousset, and 

 at a step we had passed from the cool beech forests and 

 pallid verdure of the north to the true Midi of barren lavender- 

 haunted mountains, and aromatic wastes presently animated 

 with the myriad insect-life that moves and has its being under 



