MOTHS OF THE LIMBERLOST 



Very few are satisfactory, for the instant you approach 

 these moths closely, they go battering against the logs, 

 or tearing through vines until, if a photograph of one 

 is taken, it frequently shows a broken antenna, hairless 

 shoulders, or a torn wing. The only way I know to 

 photograph them is to focus on some favourable spot, 

 mark the place your plate covers in length and width, 

 and then do your best to coax your subjects in range. If 

 they can be persuaded to walk, they will open their wings 

 to a greater or less degree. A reproduction would do 

 them no sort of justice unless the markings of the back 

 wings show. It is on account of the gorgeous colourings 

 of these that scientists call the species "after-wings." 

 Still, while writing, it appeals to me that a picture of 

 Catocala with folded wings, as they cling to the logs of 

 the Cabin in the "fly" position, would be worth while, 

 and the coming summer I intend to try for one. 



In that attitude I must look twice in order to distin- 

 guish them from the Cabin tree toad. He shares the logs 

 of the front veranda in common with the Sweetheart 

 and Bride, though on very hot, dry days, he abandons 

 wood and lies on the earth of one particular big pot of 

 palms that stands on a table close a window. In damp 

 weather he sings beautifully; and at night he is a never- 

 ending source of amusement. Dozens of visitors at the 

 Cabin have had the pleasure of watching him. His feeding 

 ground is a six-foot square plate glass window, the same 



