348 TEE ZOOLOGIST. 



to run under a haycock about twenty yards away, but there we 

 finally lost it. — Alfred H. Cocks (Poynetts, Skirmett, near Henley- 

 on-Thames). 



Notes on Bats. — A Whiskered Bat flew into one of the rooms 

 here just before 8.30 p.m. on August 3rd — a bright fine night after a 

 showery day, the moon being nearly full. It was very fierce when 

 handled, bolding its mouth wide open in a threatening way, and it bit 

 savagely when I took it up once, but with little strength. By candle- 

 light it was impossible to see its eyes, as the fur was in some way 

 brought over or round them to shelter them ; but in daylight next day 

 the small black eyes, like small bright beads stuck on the outside of 

 the face, were very remarkable. It seemed glad of drops of water. 

 When handled, it uttered a shrill squeak, rapidly repeated, like a 

 quick chatter or rattle ; but it was a very small sound, with very little 

 volume. I let it go the next day. On the 11th another (it was not 

 the same individual) flew into another room on the same side of the 

 house about 8 p.m. These are the third and fourth Whiskered Bats 

 which have flown in at our windows, three of them into the same 

 room. The first two both occurred in the latter half of July, and 

 rather late at night, with a bright lamp burning in the room (cf. 

 ' Zoologist,' 1904, 311) ; but in the two latter cases there was no light 

 in the rooms and it was getting dusk. It would appear from these 

 occurrences that the Whiskered Bat is far from uncommon here. 

 Almost any evening Bats of some kind can be seen flying about the 

 trees and shrubs just outside the window. Two days after the second 

 Whiskered Bat came in, a Pipistrelle flew into the first-named room. 

 I found it was a much harder biter than the former species. Its bites 

 might sometimes be described as painful, but those of the Whiskered 

 Bat could not. This Pipistrelle flew away instantly upon being 

 liberated during the next forenoon ; whereas I could not get a 

 Whiskered Bat to fly away in the daytime. Befusing to leave the 

 window sill of its own accord, and merely retreating when touched, it 

 gladly accepted a place of refuge in the Virginia creeper, whence, after 

 dark, I found it had departed. One night at the end of July — moon- 

 light about 9 p.m. — two large Bats, which I think were Long-eared 

 Bats, seemed to be catching moths (many of which could be seen 

 against the light about the tops of the roses, shrubs, &c.) at the 

 back of the house. One or both several times uttered a loud and 

 remarkable cry — a single note sounding something like " squick," and 

 reminding one curiously, though perhaps to some extent fancifully, of 

 the short note of the Swift, but not so loud as that. — 0. V. Aplin. 



