British Butterflies (Coleman)/CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER IV.


The mention of butterflies "in the cabinet" leads at once to the question, how to get them there; or, in other words,.

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.

Variously constructed nets are used, according to fancy, but the choice may lie between two chief forms: the Clap-net and the Ring-net.



The former certainly gives more power in a fair chase, but the latter has the advantage of being the 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.



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 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.

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 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.

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, never before observed in this country, was captured near 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 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 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.