To trace the yearly cycle of this butterfly's life, let us begin with one of the mother insects flitting along a stream in early summer. She stops now and then to lay an egg on the tip of a leaf on a willow or poplar. She then continues on her way occasionally sipping nectar from any early flowers she may chance to find, and continuing her leisurely life perhaps for several weeks.

The egg thus laid upon the poplar leaf remains in position for a week or more, unless it should be devoured by some wandering ant or discovered by some tiny parasite. If it escapes these dangers, it hatches into a minute caterpillar that escapes from the egg shell through a hole in its side. After it has come out it turns around and eats the remainder of the shell. It then begins feeding upon the tender tissue of the leaf it is resting upon, nibbling at the sides until its appetite is satisfied. Then it retires to the midrib on the lower surface where it remains quietly through the day and thereafter feeds chiefly at night. After about a week it becomes too large for the skin with which it was born, so it moults and immediately devours its cast skin. It continues these operations of feeding and moulting at occasional intervals for several weeks, finally becoming a rather large and curious looking caterpillar, mottled in greenish olive and light gray, with two large horn-like projections from the front of the body.

It finally becomes full grown in this larval state. Then it spins a web of silk upon the bark of the twig and entangles the hooked claws of its hind legs in the silken web. It thus hangs downward until the larval skin is shuffled off and the curious pupa with the conspicuous hump upon the middle of its back remains in its place. This chrysalis is of a mottled coloring, very similar to that of the caterpillar. A week or so later the chrysalis skin breaks open, and the butterfly comes out, catching hold of the twig with its legs and hanging quietly in position while its wings expand.

The butterflies of this brood are likely to appear late in summer. It is the second brood of adult butterflies for the season. These insects have the same leisurely habits as those that were on the wing earlier in the season. In a similar way the mother butterflies lay their eggs on the leaves of willows and poplars, and these eggs soon hatch into young caterpillars that look like those that hatched in early summer. The caterpillars, however, of this autumnal brood have a most interesting habit which was entirely lacking in those of early summer. Soon after hatching they begin to make for themselves little houses in which to pass the winter. This is very cleverly done by utilizing part of the leaf upon which they are feeding. Each side of the leaf toward its tip is eaten off with the midrib remaining untouched; then the lower half of the leaf which has not been eaten is rolled into a tube and securely sewed together with silken threads. The stem of the leaf is also covered with a similar silken web and securely fastened to the twig in such a way that it is impossible for the leaf to fall off when the other leaves do. The little caterpillar thus cleverly provides itself with a safe winter home into which it retreats on the approach of cold weather to remain until spring. They enter these little cases head first, and apparently seldom emerge again until the warm spring sun brings them forth to feed upon the developing willow catkins or the unfolding leaves.

The caterpillars that thus pass the winter in these pitcher-like cases are perhaps a third grown. They develop rapidly in spring and are likely to use the cases for resting purposes when they are not feeding. After a few weeks they become full-grown caterpillars and change to chrysalids, to change again a little later into the butterflies that appear in early summer. There are thus two broods of each stage of the insect during the year.

Curious Caterpillar Habits

This brief summary of the yearly history of the Viceroy is by no means adequate as a story of the many interesting things to be told about this insect, which has been carefully studied by several eminent naturalists. One of these is the strange habit the very young caterpillars have of fastening a few bits of leaf together by means of silken threads and then tying the bunch to the denuded rib of the leaf. To explain this, allow me to quote from an admirable essay of the late Samuel H. Scudder, whose studies of butterflies have added so much to our knowledge of these beautiful creatures:

"Soon after birth," wrote Mr. Scudder, "when it has eaten but a very few swaths down the leaf, the little fellow constructs a small and loose packet from minute bits of leaf and other rejectamenta, loosely fastened to one another and to the midrib, close to but scarcely touching the eaten edge of the leaf; and as fast as the leaf is eaten, it removes this packet (continually added to until it becomes almost as big as a small pea) farther and farther down the midrib away from its perch, always keeping it near the eaten edge. It should be noted that it is so loosely attached (the bits of leaf at all possible angles) that it is moved by the least breath. Meanwhile, the caterpillar has been growing larger and more conspicuous, and thus in greater peril from its enemies. There are two possible services that this odd packet may render. A spider wandering over a leaf and observing its motion may seize it, and thinking it has a prize, hurry away with it and leave its architect unharmed. This seems to me rather a strained suggestion, for a wandering spider would probably proceed to investigate it on the spot. Another explanation seems more probable. It should be remembered that the leaves preferred by these creatures as food are mostly such as are easily shaken by the wind, and as the caterpillar moves with the leaf and with all the surrounding leaves (in a continual fluttering in the case of the trembling aspen, and to a less degree in the other food plants), this of itself is a protection to it, as it would more readily escape observation as an object distinct from the leaves, all being in motion together; but on the more stable leaves, like the willow, the motion in a feeble wind would not be sufficient to be serviceable, and here, at least, the packet comes into play. An object in motion among others at rest is a noticeable thing; a fact well recognized among animals, as a host of them show when they fear being seen. This packet attached by loose silken threads moves, as stated, with a breath of wind, and so would distract attention from its architect near by, who has taken pains to place it at the farthest remove from his perch while still (to avoid undesirable steps) on his daily track. If this be really its object, it is surely one of the oddest devices in nature."

The curious winter cases of the Viceroy were first carefully described by the late Dr. C. V. Riley, in one of his classic reports on the insects of Missouri. It is one of the best accounts which has ever been written and is well worth quoting at some length:

"The larvae of the autumnal brood," wrote Doctor Riley, "when about one fourth or one third grown, build for themselves curious little houses in which they pass the winter. First and foremost—with wise forethought and being well aware through its natural instincts that the leaf which it has collected for its house will fall to the ground when the cold weather sets in unless it takes measures to prevent this—the larva fastens the stem of the leaf with silken cables securely to the twig from which it grows. It then gnaws off the blade of the leaf at its tip end, leaving little else but the midrib. Finally it rolls the remaining part of the blade of the leaf into a cylinder, sewing the edges together with silk. The basal portion of the cylinder is of course tapered to a point as the edges of the leaf are nearly drawn together, not overlapped; and invariably the lower side of the leaf forms the outside of the house so as to have the projecting midrib out of the way of the larva as it reposes snugly on the inside. The whole, when finished, has somewhat the appearance of the leaf of a miniature pitcher-plant (Sarracenia), its length being .50-.65 inch, and its diameter .11-.14 inch.