late summer the Bats will be sought in vain at this place.[1] Their presence or absence is no doubt determined by the distribution of the insects upon which they feed.
From the beech, whence I had watched the Noctules fly early in May, I obtained nineteen on the 8th of that month. Their den was in a hollow limb about forty feet from the ground. The cavity, between two and three feet in length, was dry and warm in its upper part, and impervious to wind and rain, whilst near the lower end egress was possible by several crevices and an old Woodpecker's hole. At 7.15, some three-quarters of an hour before their time of flight, the jarring of a ladder against the tree caused some of the Bats to squeak. When I broke away the dead wood, however, and exposed them to the daylight, they made no attempt to escape, but remained huddled together in a comatose condition in the upper part of the cavity, their low temperature during sleep being apparent when I handled them. As I detached them from the sides of their den, to which they clung tenaciously with their feet, hanging head downwards, one wakened sufficiently to escape. The others, placed in a linen bag, were transformed in a minute or two from cold inert creatures to a hot struggling mass. Of the nineteen Bats secured, all but three were males. The majority were liberated at once, and took wing with ease from the flat surface on which they were placed, I retained a couple, as did my friends Messrs. T.A. Coward and F.S. Graves, and we were thus able to check one another's observations on the actions of the Bats in captivity. This species takes kindly to confinement; one of the Bats, an old female, and the principal subject of the following notes, was at the end of eleven weeks in perfect health and condition. Of the other captives, one was accidentally poisoned, and four were released after a few days.
The Noctule, like other Bats in captivity, shows little inclination for flight, especially in an artificially lighted room, and, when it does take wing, frequently collides with the walls and furniture. A confined space is indeed unsuited to its bold and dashing flight, although in a darkened room it will remain on the wing for some time and avoid accidents. In walking—a captive Bat's usual mode of progression—the body is carried clear of the
- ↑ Cf. 'Zoologist,' 1895, p. 167.
