matus alsus), smallest of all British butterflies. We had found it in the deep valley of Meiringen; we found it all the way up to the Engstlen Alp, more than four thousand feet higher; it would collect in clusters on the path, in company with Skippers, and would pack so densely that a foot put down on the little crowd might have killed at least a score. And then again, when we had climbed above the alp to the highest region of all, from seven to eight thousand feet above sea-level, there it was still, flitting about among the patches of melting snow, and doubtless helping to fertilise the exquisite little alpine flowers.
Why, one may ask, should these alpine flowers be so intensely bright and fragrant, growing as they do in so cold a climate and in such wild and rugged spots? Mr. Wallace, in his Tropical Nature,[1] tells us that they need these bright colours in order to attract the butterflies that fertilise them. If it be true that butterflies are really the agents of this reproduction, the theory seems a natural one, and explains the facts. There are few butterflies as high up as eight thousand feet; we saw, if I recollect right, only two species, the Bedford Blue and a small Fritillary, and these, though common, were not exactly abundant. There is probably, then, great competition for the services of these, and natural selection has been long and hard at work. The
- ↑ Chapter vi.
