The Zoologist — August, 1866. 315 



win perform a good work by doing so, and making the results 

 known. 



Bui, apart from the particular question of these small nival cavities, 

 let me add a word or two on the interest which attaches itself to 

 *' alpine collecting" generally. That nearly all the phenomena, and 

 the niajoriiy of species, which greet us in those lofty abodes are new 

 to the naturalist who has never before ascended to within even a short 

 distance of the eternal snow, is scarcely more than a truism ; and 

 some of the contingencies to which insects would seem to be liable in 

 that land of wonders have been well stated by Mr. Miiller. But, at 

 the same time, let us not forget that the " Hand which has wisely 

 provided that eggs, larvae or pupae will stand the severity of not only 

 one but often several winters, in those tracts, before progressing to the 

 next stage" is assuredly present no less to protect the denizens of the 

 plains — where it often happens that the external conditions, whether 

 of heat, cold or drought, are (apparently) as adverse to their con- 

 tinuance as could possibly be the case even on the upland heights. 

 Thus, for instance, during the past winter, while cruising with Mr. 

 Gray and the Rev. R. T. Lowe amongst the islands of the Cape Verde 

 Archipelago, we were assured both in Fogo and Brava that it was 

 three years since they had had rain ! and the intense dryness of the 

 entire group fully attested the truth of this statement. Our mission was 

 principally for Coleoptera ; and it became difficult to resist tlie inquiry 

 as to how insect-life could possibly be sustained in a country which 

 was thus reduced to the merest dust and scoriae, occasionally so for 

 several years together, consequent on the suppression of the autumnal 

 showers. With the exception of a favoured spot here and there, 

 usually at a high altitude and in the heart of the mountains, where a 

 trickling stream (narrowed into a thread) seemed to carry along its 

 course the remains of a scanty vegetation, or where an infinitesimal, 

 slimy pool in some exhausted river-bed, told of water in more pros- 

 perous times, there was, in some of the islands, scarcely a green herb 

 to be delected, at first sight, from the sea-level to the summits of the 

 peaks. And this slate of things, we were told, was apt to be prolonged 

 to such an extent as to end in a total famine both to man and beast. 

 Yet so surely as the "gates of heaven" are opened above the parched- 

 up soil, it matters not for how long they were previously shut — all life 

 bursts forth afresh, as if by magic, the hills become green, and insects 

 (of which we saw the remains in abundance) teem amongst the herbage 

 and under stones. Although dry to an excess everywhere, undoubtedly 



