IN BORNEAN FORESTS [chap. 



Argus). It is a bird of nocturnal habits, and it is during the night 

 only that the cock utters its love cry. But even if its nocturnal 

 habits were not well known, I believe that they might have been 

 more than suspected by a look at the coloration of its feathers, 

 a character which is usually connected with the manner of life the 

 bearer leads. I may take this opportunity of mentioning the 

 singular analogy to be found between the coloration of birds and 

 that of Lepidoptera. In both cases tho general colour is in 

 numerous instances so similar to that of their usual surroundings 

 that the two are practically identical, and the bird or butterfly is 

 invisible to its enemies. In other instances it would seem as if 

 they had selected from their surroundings the most brilliant and 

 brightly coloured object as a pattern for their adornment. The 

 Argus suggests to me a case in point, its ocellated feathers resem- 

 bling in a remarkable manner the tints and distribution of colours 

 in our largest moth (Satumia fiyri). The ocelli on the wings of 

 this moth, as on those of the Argus, are so close an imitation of the 

 eyes of an animal that even the reflection of light is reproduced 

 in them. I take it that these ocelli represent false eyes, and were 

 originally the product of impressions received from real ones : 

 in short, that the pigment granules of the scales of the moth and 

 those of the bird's feathers have grouped and arranged themselves 

 in certain points so as to reproduce exactly the luminous impres- 

 sion received. There must, therefore, be some sort of correlation 

 between the nervous system and the blood-vessels to have re- 

 produced the image of the eyes ; and we can thus compare the 

 feathers of birds and the scales on the wings of Lepidoptera — or 

 rather the pigment which gives them colour — to sensitive photo- 

 graphic plates acted upon by the image formed on the retina of the 

 eye. 



The life I led in my retreat at " Vallombrosa " was in every 

 way agreeable to me. I found pleasant occupation for each hour 

 of the day, and was so thoroughly happy and contented that I 

 felt no wish for change. But it was not so with my men ; and one 

 day towards the end of September they came to me in a body, 

 complaining of the cold, and saying that they wished to return to 

 Kuching. I felt that I could hardly refuse them their request. 

 My Chinese boy, who acted as cook, alone did not express any 

 desire to leave me ; but then he was hardly sufficient for the work 

 at a time when a great number of new trees were successively coming 

 into blossom, and specimens of them had to be collected. I there- 

 fore sent him also to Kuching along with my Malays, with instruc- 

 tions to find and engage new men. But several days passed and 

 no one came, so that I was quite alone. 



The solitary life of a hermit in that grand forest was to me far 

 from unpleasant ; I may even confess to a certain satisfaction at 



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