to resemble the leaves among which they live, striped to simulate the pine needles on which they feed or the grass on which they dwell, or colored to match the ground on which they crawl, many of them being unbelievably hard to see in their accustomed surroundings.

There are all kinds of moth and butterfly foes-birds that take the adult on the wing or in repose or eat the caterpillars; parasites that attack both the eggs and the caterpillars, and scores of other creatures which consider them fair prey.

Camouflage is often practiced in a peculiar way. For example, our colorful friend, the Viceroy (see Color Plate II, figure 7), copies the Monarch (see Color Plate IX, figure 12) to perfection. Now, the Monarch happens to be a very distasteful creature to a bird because of its acrid blood; but a Viceroy makes a delightful titbit. The bird, because of wider experience with the Monarch, usually lets the similarly colored Viceroy severely alone.

This theory was tested on a monkey, who was given a Monarch to eat; he threw it aside in disgust. Next he was given a Viceroy, and as promptly he cast it aside. Then another Viceroy was offered, this time with the wings pulled off. It was eaten with evident relish.

Many other bird-relished species follow the practice of the Viceroy and imitate acrid varieties, thereby obtaining protection.

GAY COLORS DAZZLE THE PURSUER

Even the gay colorings of our gaudiest butterflies and moths are now thought by leading authorities to be protective, those who hold to this belief asserting that a woodpecker often loses a meal because disappearing brilliancy causes him to lose. track of his quarry. As he chases a showy butterfly, his eye is full of the bright color, but when the insect alights it folds its wings above its back and, presto, the bright color disappears! Instead, it shows the drab hue of the underwing, harmonizing with its surroundings.

With the folding of its wings the insect becomes a part of its background and the thwarted woodpecker flies away, doubtless wondering how that bit of bright color escaped his hungry eye. One of the

Orange Sulphurs of the Pikes Peak meadows, related to those shown on Color Plate IV, is green underneath. A brilliant flash of color while flying, it seems to vanish when it alights in the grass and closes its wings.

In the Kallima, or Dead-leaf Butterfly, this scheme is strikingly carried out. The underwing surface bears a remarkable resemblance to a leaf. It even has a hindwing projection which looks like the stem of a leaf, and a mark running across the wing appears to be a midrib. Perched on a twig, with closed wings, it perfectly simulates a dead leaf, but with outspread wings it is brilliant bait for a bird (see illustration, page 120).

In the case of the moths, which rest with folded wings instead of upright ones, as do the butterflies (see illustrations, page 85, and Color Plate XV), the brilliant color is on the rear wing, which is covered up by the somber forewing when the insect is at rest.

Studies of grasshoppers, locusts, and other winged insects show how this idea of disappearing brilliant colors runs through many families of the entire winged clan.

In collecting moths, one discovers that those which live among the birches usually have a coloration approximating the tones of birch bark, while those which are found usually on the trunks of maple. trees show color schemes that make their visibility low. Figures 1 and 2 on Color Plate XII show the contrast between the two species, which are closely related.

But the beelike moths carry the art of camouflage even further than mere passive color protection. If captured or disturbed, they act exactly like the bees they simulate, give off the familiar bee odor, and even pretend to sting, in spite of the fact that they have no stinging apparatus.

MAKING MONSTERS OF THEMSELVES TO WIN PROTECTION

The caterpillars employ many of the arts of camouflage used by the adult butterflies and moths. The measuring-worms, larvæ of the Geometrid moths, simulate in color and general appearance the twigs on which they rest. Disturbed, they stand on their hind legs and look for all the world like small projecting shoots.

Many species of caterpillars protect themselves from their enemies by assuming a terrifying aspect. For example, the caterpillar of the Tiger Swallow-tail simulates a serpent (see illustration, page 79). The rings of the body just back of the head are swollen, and on top of this protuberance are two large circular marks suggesting eyes. When at rest the creature withdraws its real head and throws up the front part of its body, so that it resembles a snake's head-an impression made doubly effective as it pushes out its curious scent organ, which looks like a forked tongue. Birds have been observed to retreat in alarm as they suddenly came upon one of these menacing-looking, though harmless, creatures.

The Puss Moth, Cerura, has a caterpillar with a similar fearsome aspect, and when disturbed it displays a kind of forked tail, within which are concealed long orange-colored extensile threads that can be thrust out and waved viciously. Many other harmless species wear ugly horns, and even intelligent people cannot be induced to touch them.

Most of the Swallow-tail butterflies' caterpillars exude foul odors when disturbed, and Professor Comstock has called them the polecats of the insect world.

Even in the cocoons of some moths and the chrysalis cases of some butterflies, protective devices are employed. The Southern Live-oak Moth has a cocoon that very closely resembles a live-oak terminal bud, especially as both twigs and cocoons are covered with small bits of lichen.

As a decoy to distract the attention of its enemy, the striking Banded Purple butterfly's caterpillar loosely fastens near its feeding place a small ball of leaf scraps closely resembling itself.

PARASITES CONVERT BUTTERFLY EGGS INTO FAMILY NURSERIES

The eggs of butterflies are laid usually upon leaves. In most species the architecture of the shells is beautiful when examined through a magnifying glass. "The extreme summit is always carved by a little rosette of the most exquisite delicacy, often requiring some of the higher powers of the microscope to discern, but arranged in such definite patterns that in looking

at them we seem to be peering through the circular rose window of a miniature Gothic cathedral" (see page 83).

The chances of a butterfly's egg producing a live caterpillar are surprisingly small. Ants and spiders regard these eggs as a great delicacy, and a whole group of tiny insects of the fly and bee orders, almost too small to breathe, one would think, insert their eggs into those of the butterflies. Parasites are always on the job to convert the butterfly's egg into a nursery for their own young.

In the case of the Viceroy and its cousins, the female butterfly lays her eggs one at a time and, unless in a hurry to be rid of the task, only one to a bush. She lays them on the tips of the leaves, as a rule. Her eggs are covered with little hairs to protect them.

But, with all the effort to conceal her eggs and to safeguard them, Madam Viceroy is not very successful, for a large majority are found to be parasitized.

Some butterflies and moths lay their eggs in rings around twigs and cover them up with a sort of varnish. The Brown-tail Moth covers hers with hairs from her own body, her tail having a bunch of these ready for application to the eggs as soon as laid.

When the caterpillars hatch out, most of them make it their first duty to eat the shells out of which they have just emerged. In the Viceroy the larva then begins to eat the leaf, leaving the midrib.

After having a hearty meal, it retires toward the end of the stripped midrib, digests its meal in the safety of its isolation, and then comes down for another feast. It makes a little packet from bits of midrib and other refuse and uses this as a sort of insect scarecrow, always keeping it at the point on the midrib where the edge of the uneaten portion of the leaf joins it.

Parasites are the bane of the caterpillars as well as of the eggs. All sorts of fly and bee order insects hover around watching for a chance to plant an egg on their bodies. A surprisingly large percentage of them must play unwilling host to the larvæ of these foes. When the parasites' eggs hatch, their little grubs bore into the bodies of their hosts and find a fine food supply in the tissues. A single caterpillar