LETTERS FROM ALABAMA. 
39 
that no colour can convey an idea of it. This 
green hue becomes a deep blue, if held so as to 
reflect the rays of light falling on it, at a very 
obtuse angle, — a property common to the green hue 
of many insects, and some birds. The eyes are 
glossy, round and prominent ; the wings broad, 
filmy, and minutely netted, of an uniform purplish 
black. The female might easily be supposed to be 
of a different species : it is much duller in colour, 
the body being nearly black, having little of the 
bright green reflection ; the wings are browner, 
and they are all marked with ' a rhomboidal white 
stigma, near the tip, which is wholly wanting in 
the male. Their mode of flight is graceful, but 
rather slow, so that they are easily captured ; and 
they will not leave these their favourite haunts, 
even though pursued. I have no doubt they are 
born and die within the limited space of a few yards. 
The refreshing coolness of these wild woodland- 
bowers was so tempting that I could not resist 
taking refuge in them from the burning heat with- 
out ; and thus I contracted an acquaintance with 
these “ demoiselles.” I encountered a stream, how- 
ever, of higher pretensions — Mush-creek— which I 
crossed by means of a very primitive bridge, the 
trunk of a tall forest-tree, which had been cut 
down so as to fall across. On this tree, basking in 
the sun, lay a large snake, of a dusky brown hue, 
about four feet in length, which, on my disturbing 
it, instantly plunged into the middle of the stream, 
and dived to the bottom. As the water was turbid,’ 
I saw no more of it. It was, no doubt, the species 
commonly called the Copper-belly {Coluber por- 
catusj Bose.), which is numerous, but harmless. 
I afterwards observed a snake, probably of the 
