capture which it has no powers of pursuit, for its motions are slow in the extreme. To this slowness there is indeed one exception, without which the creature would starve. Its habit is to lie in ambush, as it were, among the leaves, and watch for flies and other insects that may by chance alight or crawl within reach of its tongue. This organ, as we have said, is capable of being projected to a great length with great rapidity and precision; its tip, which is dilated, is somewhat tubular, and secretes a glutinous fluid, to which, when suddenly launched, the prey adheres, and is in an instant retracted into the mouth.
Some interesting details of the action of this organ, as observed in a state of captivity, are given in a paper by Mr. Houlston, published in the “Transactions of the Irish Society:” “When a fly, so maimed as not to be able to escape, but still sufficiently vigorous to move its legs and wings, was so placed that its fluttering might attract the Chameleon's attention, the animal advanced slowly until within tongue's reach of it; then, steadying itself like a pointer, sometimes stretching out its tail, sometimes fixing it against an adjacent body, and directing both eyes steadfastly on the prey, it slowly opened its mouth and suddenly darted forth its tongue, which advancing in a straight line, seldom failed of striking, with its glutinous cupped extremity, the object aimed at. Near the point of the tongue there is a small gland, which secretes a glutinous fluid, but even when the point happened to err, the prey did not always escape, sometimes adhering to the sides of the tongue. The tongue thus laden, then retired into the mouth, but somewhat more
