FLYING FOXES 135 
The best way to see the fun is to follow the fortunes 
of one particular bat. The other day I fixed my atten- 
tion on one stout fellow who had taken up a position at 
the lower end of a bare branch at the top of a tree. 
The bough was at least a couple of yards in length and 
hence was obviously intended “to seat five.” A few 
seconds after this bat had comfortably settled himself 
for the day, another came up and quietly hooked on 
to the upper end of the branch. The first comer im- 
mediately proceeded to abuse him roundly, and sidled 
up to him with great speed, in precisely the same way 
as a man, hanging by his arms from a horizontal bar, 
moves himself along by sliding first one hand and then 
the other along the bar. The intruder waited for him 
to come quite close up and then flew off swearing, 
leaving the prior occupant in sole possession. This 
individual then edged back to the lower part of the 
branch. He had scarcely arrived there before another 
bat hooked itself on to the upper end of the bough, 
Exactly the same comedy was acted, the original 
possessor again asserting his prior claim. But he had 
constantly to fight for it. Within three minutes I saw 
him drive off five intruders, 
This is but a specimen of the kind of thing that 
takes place simultaneously all over the tree. Since 
bats appear to dislike each other’s company so in- 
tensely it is strange that they always roost in large 
colonies, and invariably in the same tree. Possibly 
they do so for the sake of safety. A sleeping flying 
fox is a conspicuous object; and were he alone the 
eagles, kites, and crows might give him a bad time. 
