clothe the feathers and scales and fur of its subjects. 

 Any color or shade, however brilliant or sombre, may 

 be protective or advertising within a few seconds of 

 time., Motion is the great arbiter of this, and a hop- 

 ping sparrow among dead leaves is more conspicuous 

 than a quiescent tanager against a neutral back- 

 ground. 



The meaning of color is a momentous question and 

 one which will take many life-times of intensive obser- 

 vation and study of wild creatures to solve. In many 

 instances color and pattern are more ancient and 

 stable than deeper seated characters, even those of 

 muscle and bone. I wish to offer one point of view 

 which seems to be new and which perhaps furnishes a 

 single step in the right direction. This is to dismiss all 

 man-made theories as to protective qualities, or con- 

 cealing backgrounds and let the wild creatures them- 

 selves provide the proof. Three instances will be 

 enough to point my thesis. 



The female wood-duck is, as admitted by all, quite 

 well protected by her sombre coat. But it has been 

 claimed that the brilliant dress of the drake is also 

 protective, obliterative in its ruptive patterns of sand, 

 ripple and water-skimmer markings. Ripple marks 

 imply motion, a condition under which no protective 

 color can operate successfully. But the most con- 

 vincing proof of error in this assumption lies in the 

 fact that, at the time of helplessness, when the flight 

 feathers are simultaneously shed, Nature, (to use a 

 convenient personal noun) mistrusts the dead-au- 

 tumn-leaf plus ripple-mark plumage and goes to a 



