BUTTERFLIES IN THE CABINET--HOW TO CATCH THEM--APPARATUS--GOING
OUT--WEATHER--LOCALITIES--LOCAL BUTTERFLIES--INCOGNITOS--FIELD
WORK--FAVOURITE STATIONS--BEWARE OF THE BRAMBLE.
The mention of butterflies "in the cabinet" leads at once to the question,
how to get them there; or, in other words, HOW TO CATCH A BUTTERFLY.
This is a question often less difficult to answer in words than in action,
for many of our butterflies are gifted not only with strong prejudices
against the inside of a net, but with very strong powers of escaping from
that unpleasant situation. Still, by aid of proper apparatus, a sure eye
and hand, and often, of a good pair of legs, there is no butterfly, however
fleet and wary, that we may not feel ourselves a tolerable match for.
Firstly, then, as to the out-door apparatus required.
This is simple enough, a _net_ and _pocket-boxes_, with a few _pins_, being
the only essentials.[6]
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Variously constructed nets are used, according to fancy, but the choice may
lie between two chief forms: the _Clap-net_ and the _Ring-net_.
[Illustration]
The former certainly gives more power in a fair chase, but the latter has
the advantage of being the {41} lighter, more portable, and less
conspicuous of the two. Both of these instruments are shown in the
accompanying figures.
The clap-net (fig. 1) usually has the sticks that compose the framework
made each in three separate pieces, joined by ferrules--a couple of light
fishing-rods will do excellently, a piece of bent cane being substituted
for the top joint. The manner in which the gauze is extended between, and
fitted on, these rods will be sufficiently obvious on looking at the cut,
which represents the net half open. In taking an insect, one handle is held
in each hand, the net opened wide, and thrown over, or made to intercept
the insect, when, by suddenly closing the handles together, a closed bag is
made, and the little prisoner is secured.
[Illustration]
The ring-net (fig. 2), which is the implement most generally in vogue, may
be constructed in several ways. The cheapest, and at the same time a highly
serviceable one, is made by getting from a tinman a tin "socket" of this
form, the larger end fitting on to the end of a straight stick, and the two
smaller tubes receiving the ends of a hoop of cane, which carries the net,
it being passed through a loose hem round the top of the latter. The cane,
taken out of the socket, can be rolled up closely with the net and carried
in the pocket to the scene of action, while the handle may be a strong
common walking-stick, a {42} most useful auxiliary in getting across
country, and thus this net becomes really no incumbrance to the tourist,
who may have other matters in hand besides butterfly hunting--perhaps
sketching and botanizing--when the larger clap-net becomes quite
embarrassing.
Another form of this net has the ring made of _metal_, and _jointed_ in
several places, so as to fold within a small pocketable compass, and
arranged to screw into a brass socket on the top of the stick. This is a
very commendable net--not so easily home-made as the last, certainly, but
it can be readily procured complete from the London dealers (or
"naturalists," as they style themselves).
A net that has been a good deal used of late opens and shuts on the
umbrella principle, and with the same celerity, forming a ring-net when
open--when shut going into a case like that of an umbrella.
Some entomologists, nervously sensitive to public opinion, are, however,
somewhat shy of sporting these umbrella nets, for should rain perchance
come down while he is on the road, the villagers may be astonished at the
insane spectacle of a man scuttling along through the torrent and getting
drenched through, while he carries a good-looking umbrella carefully under
his arm for fear it should get wet; and if, on the other hand, the weather
be fine, the carrying such a protective would seem an equally eccentric
whim. But only the _very_ thin-skinned would be driven from the use of a
good weapon by such a harmless contingency as I have here supposed. {43}
Other necessary equipments for the fly-catcher are two or three _light
wooden boxes_, as large as can conveniently be carried in the pockets, and
having either the bottom, or, if deep enough, both bottom and top lined
with a layer of _cork_, about one-eighth of an inch in thickness.
A pin-cushion, well furnished with _entomological pins_, should also be
carried, and will be found to be most accessible when suspended by a loop
and button (or otherwise) inside the breast of the coat.
The pins here mentioned, which are an important item among
butterfly-collecting requisites, are of a peculiar manufacture--very
small-headed, long and thin, but strong. Any good London dealer will supply
them on application, or send them by post into the country.
Armed with the above simple _paraphernalia_, viz. net to catch, boxes and
pins to contain and detain, the insect hunter may sally forth on any fine
summer's day, with a pretty sure prospect of sport, and the chance, at
least, of a prize. Much depends, however, on the choice of a day, and the
nature of the locality that is to form the hunting ground.
As to weather, it must be remembered that winged insects have a great
objection to face a north, or north-east wind, during the prevalence of
which you will probably find hardly one stirring, however prolific the
locality may at other times be.
Butterflies, as a rule, do not appear to be at all {44} influenced by an
eye for the picturesque and romantic in the choice of their favourite
haunts. Often have I been disappointed in this way, finding a delicious
spot, basking in sunshine, and bedight with all manner of flowers such as a
butterfly loves, yet with scarcely a stray butterfly to enliven it; while,
on the other hand, a piece of the most unpromising flat waste land will be
all alive with insect beauty. Those, for example, who would see those
splendid creatures, the Swallow-tail butterfly and the large Copper (if
this exists with us at all now), must go to the dreary fen districts that
form their almost exclusive haunts.
It is, in fact, very hard to say what influences bring a swarm of
butterflies together, to populate one particular spot, to the utter neglect
of others close at hand, and, to all appearance, just as eligible.
Some species are most remarkable for their excessive _localness_ (as it is
called), or, limiting their range to an exceedingly small circumscribed
space; so much so, that some rare species have been known to haunt just one
corner of one particular field, year after year, while not a single
specimen could be found in all the neighbouring fields, though precisely
similar, to all appearance. This phenomenon is quite inexplicable with
regard to insects endowed so pre-eminently with locomotive powers as
butterflies are.
The local nature of his game should, however, induce the collector to leave
no nook or corner unexplored when he is "working" a district; as the
passing over (or rather, neglecting to _pass over_) a single field may lose
him the very species it would joy him most to find.
[Illustration: VII.]
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I would also advise the beginner--and, indeed, all but the very experienced
hands--to catch, not necessarily for slaughter, but for inspection, every
attainable individual whose species he cannot positively declare to when on
the wing, lest he pass by some rarities unawares. Thus the valued Queen of
Spain, and the much-disputed _Dia_ Fritillaries, the _Melitæas_, the Brown
Hair-streak, and (on the mountains) the rare _Erebias_, perhaps some new to
this country,--any of these might be mistaken by a novice for some of the
commoner brown species. Among the "Whites," too, the Black-veined White,
that great prize, the Bath White, and the white varieties of the Clouded
Yellow and Clouded Sulphur, might share the same fate, or fortune rather,
of being reckoned as "Cabbage Whites."
Then, with the "Blues." Who is there that could at once distinguish with
certainty the very rare Mazarine Blue (_P. Acis_) from the common Blues
when on the wing? Perhaps it would turn out to be less rare than supposed,
if all the Blues in a fresh locality were netted as they came near, and set
at liberty after passing muster.
Why, only last season a very curious Blue,[7] never before observed in this
country, was captured near {46} Brighton by a collector, who, at the
moment, thought it was only a Common Blue, so precisely similar did it look
when flying.
As to the manipulation of the net, it will be better to leave the young
collector to find that out for himself, which, if he has the use of his
hands, he will quickly do when he gets into the field. He will soon
perceive that with most of the swifter butterflies, it is of no use to make
a rush at them. A surprise answers better than a charge; for they easily
take alarm at open violence, and then go off straight ahead at a pace that
renders pursuit, over bad ground especially, most trying, if not hopeless
work. So the "_suaviter in modo_" principle is best here as
elsewhere:--gently follow up and watch your butterfly till he pauses over
or settles upon a flower, or whatever it may be; then, with caution, you
can generally come within striking distance without giving alarm, and one
vigorous, well-aimed stroke usually settles the matter; if, after that, he
is outside of your net instead of in, you will find it a difficult matter
to get another chance, at least, with most of the larger and strong-flying
kinds. But there is much diversity of disposition among these creatures,
and some are unscared by repeated attacks. These points of character the
collector will soon learn when he has been among these lively little people
for a season.
The different species have also their own favourite positions, on which
they delight to perch.
Thus the Clouded Yellow loves the low flowers of {47} the railway-bank and
the down; often seen toying with a breeze-rocked flower as yellow-coated as
himself, as though he had mistaken it, in its fluttering, for one of his
mates.
Then the Peacock and Red Admiral are attached to several plants of the
composite order, such as the thistles, teazle, and above all (as far as I
have observed), to that fine, stalwart plant that frequently abounds in
thickets, &c., and known as Hemp Agrimony (_Eupatorium cannabinum_). I
seldom, at the proper season, visit a clump of this growing in a sunny
opening, without finding, besides a store of other insects, one or both of
these grand butterflies enthroned on the ample purplish flower-heads, and
_fanning_ their gorgeous wings, after the custom of their genus, then
launching into the air, and, after a few circling evolutions in that
element, returning to the self-same flower-heads, their chosen seats.
Both of these flies are easily captured when in this position, as they
allow a near approach, and can be without hindrance swept off by a rapid
side-stroke of the net.
The glorious Purple Emperor is celebrated for his predilection for a throne
on the oak, though some other lofty trees, such as the ash, are
occasionally honoured by the imperial presence; but his habits and _locale_
will be referred to more particularly hereafter.
That lovely butterfly, the Silver-washed Fritillary, has a _penchant_ for
settling on the bramble, which {48} justifies the preference by proving
itself the insect's best friend; but withal a most provoking opponent to
his would-be captor, who may get him safely within the net's mouth at the
first stroke, when, ten to one, the trusty bramble-hooks clutch into the
gauze, and effectually prevent the quick turn of the net that should close
it, while the prisoner, seeing his chance, darts out with a sharp rustle
that one's irritated feelings easily interpret into a derisive laugh.
But experience will in time teach the fly-catcher the required adroitness
to avoid this humiliating defeat.
* * * * *
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