MOTHS OF THE LIMBERLOST 



this plant. There was a chewink in the Stanley woods, 

 that brought off a brood of four, under the safe shelter 

 of a rank thistle leaf, in the midst of trampling herds of 

 cattle driven wild by flies. There was a ground sparrow 

 near the Hale sand pit, covered by a base leaf of another 

 thistle, and beneath a third on Bob's lease, I had made 

 a study of an exquisite nest. Protection from the rank 

 leaves was not all the birds sought of these plants, for 

 goldfinches were darting around inviting all creation to 

 "See me?" as they gathered the silken down for nest 

 lining. Over the sweetly perfumed purple heads, the 

 hummingbirds held high carnival on Sunshine Hillside 

 all the day. The honey and bumble bees fled at the 

 birds' approach, but what were these others, numerous 

 everywhere, that clung to the blooms, greedily thrusting 

 their red noses between the petals, and giving place to 

 nothing else? 



For days as I passed among them, I thought them huge 

 bees. The bright colouring of their golden olive-green, 

 and red-wine striped bodies had attracted me in passing. 

 Then one of them approached a thistle head opposite 

 me in such a way its antennae, and the long tongue it 

 thrust into the bloom could be seen. That proved it 

 was not a bee, and punishment did not await any one 

 who touched it. 



There were so many that with one sweep of the net 

 two were captured. They were examined to my satis- 



288 



