A NATURALIST ON THE PROWL. 
i;8 
with the ever-changing, sweet, harsh, loud, low, tinkling, 
rasping notes of the Racket-tailed Drongo, the mellow 
call of the Oriole, the harsh cries of the jungle Parrot 
and the angry objurgations of the Black-faced Monkey. 
On the granite-tipped peak which just pierces its green 
mantle, a few large boulders are balanced in grotesque 
positions, proving that Hanooman, the monkey god, 
rested here on his expedition to Ceylon. Wedged in 
among the rocks is a tall staff, said to have been planted 
there to commemorate a pedestrian feat by a certain 
renowned Colonel, who bids fair to take rank in the 
traditions of the district with the monkey god. Where 
Hanooman sat in his day and the Colonel in his, there 
sit I ; for it is my day now and this peak is the great 
basking place of butterflies. 
On a blazing October day, at the fashionable hour of 
noon, you will find representatives here of almost every 
noble family in the country. The Four-tailed Pashas take 
the first place of course — Charaxes athamas and fabins and 
imna, perhaps even schreiberi. Each claims an outstanding 
branch of some tree with shining leaves as his station, 
from which he will dart out from time to time to chase 
away a rival, or display his power of wing, returning again 
