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now what pleasure the sight of this—as it appeared to me then— 
extraordinary creature, afforded me as it moved slowly across the 
surface of a dock-leaf by the riverside. Banjnotus has on this account 
always been a favourite of mine, and I have met with it several times 
since, although in the valley it is a scarce insect. It is dun in colour 
(a feature which probably protects it excellently, slow moving as it is, 
from any possible enemies), rather broadly oval in outline, with short, 
thick snout and short antennre, and the elytra, especially towards the 
apex, clothed with stiffish bristles. In June of last year I had the 
pleasure of watching Bari/nntn s—two of them—feeding on thistle 
plants in a ditch, and I noticed that one had already devoured quite 
an appreciable section of a leaf. That it feeds also on other plants 
seems fairly certain, as in the following August I grubbed up two 
individuals from roots of Vobjijonum in another part of the valley. For 
some time I supposed Jiarynotns to be exclusively a palustral insect, 
but this belief was rudely disturbed last spring, when I found a 
living specimen and the remains of other dead ones—of all places in 
world—on the top of a high chalk hill ! 
The group of coleoptera of which I have just been speaking, although 
so interesting, is not as a whole remarkable for brilliancy of colouring. 
But it must not be supposed that colour, and vivid colour, is lacking 
in the beetle life of the marshes. Onwards from the middle of May, 
the naturalist, wandering by the riverside, will begin to notice here 
and there some brightly tinted insects seated with closely clinging 
limbs on the wind-swept reeds. Not of one colour alone are they, 
some are deep blue, others rich crimson red, while others again are 
shining golden. True creatures of the summer and the sunlight are 
the Donaciae, and true denizens are they of the fens and marshes. 
Many of the species are common, and their beauty appeals especially 
to the budding coleopterist, who in the dark and dreary days of winter, 
opens his boxes to gaze at the varied tints of these beetle treasures 
and recalls once more the sunny scenes amongst which he found them. 
]>. ericca and its close ally 1>. comari are the species which vary most in 
colouring, and of each of these forms hardly two specimens can be 
found of exactly the same tint. Unlike the little coppery-red D. semi- 
cuprea, which in the Lea valley I find restricted with few exceptions 
to the reeds along the river’s edge, or the duller narrow-bodied 
]>. lincai is, which confines itself to the waving sedges in a single ditch, 
]). sericea, though seldom straying far from the damper spots, wanders 
indifferently amongst the crowded vegetation of the ditch sides. A 
group of many-hued / >. serieea, seen in the hot stillness of a summer noon 
sucking the sweetness from a bunch of the creamy blossoms of the 
meadow-sweet, is a beautiful sight, and one I have often witnessed. 
Seven of the sixteen British Donaciae are found in the Lea Valley, 
and of these I have already alluded to three. Jointly, their time of 
appearance extends from May to nearly the end of August, but most 
of those which appear in the first named month have vanished by the 
close of June. These at the beginning of July are succeeded by species 
of somewhat different habit from those which frequent the reed stems. 
Let us pay a visit to one of these later species in its natural 
habitat. For this purpose we must seek the ancient bed of the river 
Lea, which, from its sinuous nature unsuitable for navigation, has 
here been left to gladden the heart of the naturalist and the admirer 
