The Zoologist — June, 1869. 1717 



fully exhibited, for, whilst their babyhood lasts, an exposure to the air 

 seems necessary for maturing the newly acquired organs of aerial 

 respiration, and a frequent dip in the water equally essential to prevent 

 the too rapid absorption of the old organs. The period of probation 

 lasts about fourteen days, and after it has expired the first soaking 

 shower is the signal for migration ; they then leave the scene of their 

 babyhood and scatter themselves in all directions. A perilous period 

 is this with every species of frog or toad. Birds, lizards, mice and 

 rats seem to regard these migrations as a provision for their welfare — 

 a kind of manna falling in the wilderness for their especial benefit, and 

 without waiting for invitation they hasten to the welcome feast. 



On the approach of winter the little Natterjacks secrete themselves 

 under stones or stacks of turf, and pass the colder months in abste- 

 mious sleep; but no sooner has the sun regained some power than 

 the little fellows again seek the water, and remain in its vicinity so 

 long as summer lasts, always seeming to regard water as a haven of 

 refuge and hastening into it on the apprehension of danger. 



Until the arrival of autumn, the Natterjacks, being then twelve 

 months old, continue to be strictly diurnal animals, delighting to bask 

 in the sun and indulging in constant diurnal ablutions, but on arriving 

 at their full growth they become nocturnal, remaining concealed in 

 subterranean galleries by day and venturing abroad only by night; 

 still their taste for bathing continues. M. Julian Deby tells us, in the 

 ' Zoologist,' that during their nocturnal rambles in search of the wan- 

 dering members of the invertebrate world, they habitually indulge in 

 a cold bath, and while enjoying this luxury they croak incessantly, 

 " making night horrible." I have often heard this nocturnal serenade, 

 but never detected the musicians: my friend Mr. Tate has been more 

 fortunate: he says, "After dark, or at least after the rising of the moon> 

 1 was returning home across Wisley Heath, and, when near a pond, 

 something ran quickly across the path. I took it up and saw by its 

 bright vertebral stripe, showing clearly in the moonlight, that it was a 

 Natterjack. I therefore commenced looking round the pond, and 

 caught no less than fifty-seven of them. The noise they were making 

 was very great ; their croak being hoarse and one continued note, 

 instead of, as in the common toad and frog, a succession of short notes. 

 The Natterjacks showed more sense than the toads, by leaving off 

 croaking and squatting close to the ground to escape observation 

 whenever I approached one of their haunts, while the toads kept 

 croaking and hopping. I found them always in shallow water in 



