7323 Insects. 



To return, however, to Java, if not to Proguatba. We are watering 

 at Mew Bay, near the entrance to the Straits of Sunda. A beautiful 

 little cascade falls down a rock into the sea, under the cool shade of 

 dark-leaved trees, where the water-casks are filled without let or hin- 

 drance. There is a legend among the sailors of a rhinoceros having 

 charged a party watering here some time previously, which exciting 

 incid'eut, if ever it occurred, lends an additional charm to the spot in 

 the eyes of these danger-loving sons of the sea. In sober truth the 

 ground is literally ploughed up by the tracks of these huge unwieldy 



Pachyderms. 



Instead of landing at the watering-place we prefer making a little 

 detour through the forest, at no great distance from the shore. Dead, 

 hoary, lichen-covered, fern-tufted trunks lie prostrate in our path, and 

 great, green, orchid-hung branches overshadow the snow-white coral 

 strand which gleams below. Our progress at first is slow and difficult, 

 but as we go we hunt. The first fallen tree we turn over discovers a 

 slender green snake with a turned-up pointed nose, and which said 

 Ophidian, being active and vigilant, very naturally makes his escape. 

 The next fern-grown trunk exhibits two ugly black scorpions, of a for- 

 midable size, aflFectionately coiled round a numerous progeny. With 

 cautious care, for we suspect their venom to be potent, we pass a running 

 noose round their knotted tails, and secure the parents of this inte- 

 resting brood by suspending them to a convenient twig. As for the 

 little ones it is a second " Massacre of the Innocents ; " every tender 

 scorpion is mercilessly butchered. And talking of scorpions reminds 

 me that I have at times induced " parties " to believe 1 possessed the 

 power of taming these most antipathetical Arachnidans and their 

 equally respected Myriapodous relatives, the Centipedes. The black 

 art of the mystery-man, however, simply consists in surreptitiously 

 snipping off the tip of Scorpio's sting and the hooks of fell Scolopen- 

 dra's jaws with a pair of scissors. Deprived of the power to penetrate 

 the skin, these noxious insects are then permitted to enjoy undisturbed 

 a ramble over the face and hands of the exhibitor. At Pratas' Islajid, 

 however, the conjuror himself is actually stung by a small scorpion, 

 and he calculates the pain to be about equal to the sting of an irate 

 British wasp, with which of course he has been acquainted both as 

 man and boy. Next we come to a promising dead tree covered with 

 Boleti, eating which we find Mycetophagi of goodly size, and of a black 

 and red pattern. 



Stripping off a portion of the loose and partially detached bark, out 

 runs a little dusky, splay-footed, flat-bellied gecko, who is instantly 



