292 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



all, there is nothing like not being seen, and foliage, as well as 

 mere luck, may secure this advantage to the most resplendent. 

 One cannot see all ways at once. But I believe that your thorough- 

 going advocate of protective coloration would look at a red lion, 

 stepped off a public-house, and cry out, " How assimilative ! " 



There is one thing that my attention has been drawn to in 

 regard to the male Pheasant. It has upon the posterior portion 

 of the back a large patch of much less brilliant colouring than 

 the rest of it, or than the throat, neck, head, &c. When the 

 bird is in retreat— and it often retreats stealthily for some while 

 before crouching — this surface is turned towards one, and I have 

 thought, sometimes, that here was a sort of dull-coloured shield 

 to the bird's brightness — it does, I think, act as such to some 

 extent. I look upon it, however, as that part of the body which 

 is least exposed, during courtship, to the observation of the hen, 

 and which has therefore remained comparatively dull. 



A Robin is searching the newly flung-up mould of a Mole- 

 heap, and seems to find something, which he flies away with. 

 Looking closely at some similar mould afterwards, I can find 

 nothing whatever that a bird might eat. It is difficult to think 

 what birds do find on days like this. Squirrels have their 

 hoards, yet who would think to see them scampering over the 

 snow in the depth of winter ? What make they out of their 

 warm hibernacula, where — happy beings — they may sleep away 

 not nights only, but weeks, months, a whole season at a time ? 

 That is what they are supposed to do — at least, I understand so. 

 True they lay up stores, and on a warm sunny day one can 

 understand them coming out to go to them. But why on such 

 a day as this ? Has the weather really nothing to do with it, 

 but do they wake up, at certain intervals, hungry ? But why 

 then should they hybernate at all ? There must be food enough 

 for them surely. Fir-cones are quite a staple of their diet, and 

 these are on the trees through the winter. Then, again, they 

 eat bark, if all tales be true, though the bark made about it is 

 worse, I suspect, than their bite. Hybernation seems a splendid 

 remedy for a want of food, and that I have looked on as the 

 rationale of it. But surely, if a Hare or Rabbit can get through 

 the winter without hybernating, a Squirrel ought to be able to. 



(To be continued.) 



