flies in the forest to the eastward, and to explore the road towards Laba. This road had been opened some time, and though in places rather swampy at this season, it is an easy road for ponies and the principal means of communication with the eastern parts of British Bhutan. It passes through dense virgin forest for many miles, and seems one of the most favour¬ able roads for collecting the butterflies which inhabit the zone from 6,000 to 8,000 feet, many of which are peculiar to the Eastern Himalayas. Half a mile beyond Rississum I crossed a narrow saddle and found on a rock a large patch of that lovely little plant, Kæmpferia linearis, a Scita- minous plant allied to Roscœa, with dwarf slender stems, and large white orchid-like flowers with purple base and wings. I collected a bunch of it to send alive to Mr. Gammie, and a dozen specimens to dry. It is apparently, as Hooker says, an annual,* and numerous seedlings were springing up. If this plant can be successfully introduced, I believe it should be grown like Utricularia in a basket of moss, or on a block like an orchid, and it should succeed in a damp shady greenhouse without artificial heat.
I then ascended gently for a mile or so, shooting one or two green pigeons as I went along, and then came to one or two little openings in the forest where buffaloes are brought to graze. It was too early now for many butterflies to be out, but as I returned I found in this spot Limenitis daraxa and other local species. I left my insect collector Bush here to try and catch Teinopalpus imperialis, which we had seen in the opening, and went on with Aten alone. As the sun got higher I took numerous butterflies of the genera Lethe, Neope and Rhapicera, which settle on the path and are not difficult to catch as they rise. Most of them were freshly out and in beautiful condition. A little further on at about 7,500 feet I saw a large dark insect sail down the path and by a lucky stroke I secured the beautiful Neorina hilda, a rich brown butterfly, four inches across, with a band of yellowish cream colour across the wings and large ocelli below. The female of this is seldom seen in the forest with the male, but I took one on the open top of Jellapahar hill close to the observatory, after a tough race with a soldier who had also had his eye on the prize.
Ascending the slopes of a hill called Khumpong which seems to be the culminating point of the ridge at about 7,800 feet, we heard the sharp bark of a muntjac, or barking deer, in the forest, and we approached with cautious steps. Just as we were coming round a corner where we expected to see the animal, the bark, which is repeated at intervals of a minute or so, suddenly stopped, and a Nepalese policeman on his pony came round the corner and disturbed the deer, much to the annoyance of Aten, who wanted to know what he was doing there. These small barking deer are almost the only large game that one ever sees in the thick forests or bikkim. The Serow, a larger goat-like antelope, is also found on many of the steeper rocky slopes, but it is so shy that it is hardly ever seen and seldom killed unless you have good dogs to bring it to bay. At the
In the Flora of British India, vol. vi., p. 223, I find that this plant has been described as K. sikkimensis, and is considered distinct from K. linearis Wall, which represents it in Assam.
