It may be here observed that we have been lately in this country indebted to the minute observations and great tact of some of our best students of Micro-Lepidoptera (in which branch of entomology we are second to none in Europe) for some most interesting additions to our knowledge of habits, and for long series of beetles usually rare in collections.
Dismissing then the earlier stages of beetles, the following observations will apply only to the imago, or "beetle proper." And here I would repeat how evident it is that the knowledge of "the reason why" is especially indispensable to the beetle collector, judging from the extreme rarity of the occurrence of any new or valuable insect in the stores of a mere random collector or a beginner. For him, no old hand detects an equivalent to Daplidice or Lathonia in his duplicate boxes; whereas, among Lepidopterists, "school-boy's luck" is proverbial. I can give no reason for this statement, founded on my own (by no means trifling) experience in the way of examining specimens. And in this idea I think I am corroborated by the very great rarity in old collections and records of many species now universally common; the directions in older manuals, as to looking under stones, on walls, paths, &c., pretty clearly showing that the majority of captures in the olden time were what are now irreverently designed as "flukes." Still, it is astonishing to what good account a sharp observer may turn these casual meetings, often to him resulting in the discovery of "the reason why" as to the particular species accidentally found, and to the correlative increase of his collection. And, apart from captures during collecting expeditions, good things will at times occur to the alert entomologist: one, for instance, who will startle his friends in the streets by suddenly swooping with his hat after an atom flying in the sunshine, or who is not too proud to pick up another, racing on the hot pavement, during those days of early spring, when the insect myriads, revelling in warmth and light, after their long winters durance, may be seen madly dashing about, even in towns: on such a day, for instance, as that whereon a certain well-known doctor among the beetles found that living carabideous gem Anchomenus sexpunctatus, far from its native Sphagnum and heath, wandering on the flagstones of the W.C. district.
But, before referring to special modes of hunting, it may be as well to mention the instrumenta belli required for the equipment of the Coleopterist in this country. These are but few, and of the simplest kind; indeed, in entomology, as in the gentle art of angling, it is often the most roughly accoutred that secures the best basket. The umbrella net, figured at p. 47, used both for beating into and sweeping, cannot be dispensed with, and a beating stick can be cut out of the nearest hedge. The net itself should be of fine "cheese cloth," or some strong fabric that allows the passage of air, but not of beetles; otherwise, if of too close a fibre, it is apt to "bag" with the inclosed air, and reject its contents during the operation of sweeping. The net being of course used with the right hand, its left top edge especially bears the brunt of the attendant friction, and gets soon worn; it is consequently advisable to have an outer strip of stout "leather-cloth" sewn strongly over the rim there for some little distance, extending that protection also to the right top edge, though not for so long a space. The curved handle of the stick should be sawn off as soon as possible; it frequently catches in the pockets of the sweeper, causing a jerk to the net, and dispersal of its contents. For a similar reason, the ferruled apex may well be removed. Some collectors keep the sharp cutting edge of the spring sides of the net uncovered, sewing the net itself to holes drilled at intervals on the lower side of the springs: a net of this kind cuts very close, and where there is much herbage soon gets full of fragments, taking a long time to examine. It will be found handy if the bag of the net be cut to a point from the front towards the handle side: this causes the contents to gravitate to the bottom, as far as possible from the point where the rim meets the substance swept.
A common umbrella (easily slung by a stout string over the back when not in use) is an admirable (some think, superior) substitute for this net, as it can be held up higher by the ferrule, and tall bushes and trees (of which the branches nearer the top are usually most productive) can be beaten into it with more certainty of their beetle contents being caught. The steel frames will be found in the way when the beetles are being bottled; consequently, a good large gingham may be consecrated to collecting, and its inside (not merely the outer ribs) covered all over up to the middle (leaving no aperture there if possible) with thin white calico, stitched over the frame.
Another good form of net for sweeping or dragging in long grass or herbage, is of the common fishing landing-net description, made of very stout wrought-iron or steel wire, either in a simple hoop, if a moderate size only be required, or with a single hinge to fold into two, or with three such hinges, folding into four, as may be desired. I have used one of these four-folding nets for years, and never found it fail. One end is hammered out flat and perforated, the other forming a male screw (1-1/2 inch long), bent at right angles with the body of the frame, passes through the hole, and fits into a female screw in a strong and long ferrule, fixed in the usual way to the end of a stout oaken walking-stick. As the power exerted in sweeping with such a net is great, and the action continuous, the simple screw is not enough, and a small screw hole is drilled right through the ferrule and the screw end of the net; a small thumb-screw, in shape like an old-fashioned clock key, going transversely through both, and effectually hindering lateral displacement. The framework of the net and the ferrule are better made of the same metal, because, if made of two metals of different density, the stronger soon wears away the weaker; and the stick must be inserted deeply into the ferrule, and held on with two deep pins or small screws on opposite sides (not on the same level, however, as the wood is in that case weakened), one being insufficient to stand the strain. The net, of the same substance as that above mentioned, is made with a loose "hem" to slip on the frame before screwing it in the ferrule. A leather-cloth edging all round is advisable, and the bag should be cut long enough to prevent the possibility of the contents jerking out. Another very good plan for securing the frame to the ferrule is to have both ends of it soldered together into a deep square-sided plug, fitting into a corresponding square hole in the ferrule. The small cross-screw or pin is here also to be used; but the angles of the plug naturally keep a much tighter hold than the worm of a screw. Such a frame as this cannot, of course, be folded.
For water beetles, a similar net to that last mentioned is effective, but it should be stouter and with a flat front, for dredging closely against the sides and bottoms of ponds. The best substance for its bag is fine sampler canvas; and a very large, stout bamboo cane is at once light and strong for its stick. To avoid friction the bag may be affixed to small wire rings let into holes on the lower edge of the frame, or running on the frame itself.
A sieve is one of the most remunerative implements, and may be procured either simple or folding. It consists of a stout wire-framed circle, connected by a strong linen band, six inches deep, with the bottom of an ordinary wire sieve, the meshes of which are wide enough to allow any beetle to pass through. Leaves, grass, flood refuse, ants' nests materials, cut grass, seaweed, haystack and other débris, are roughly shaken in this over a sheet of brown paper, which should invariably form part of a Coleopterist's apparatus. A stout piece of double waterproof material may be substituted; and, in marsh collecting, must be used as a kneeling pad.
For ordinary bark collecting, a strong ripping chisel (of which the blade is well collared, so as not to slip) is as useful a tool as can be procured; but for real tree working, no ordinarily portable instrument is thoroughly effective. Light steel hammers with a lever spike may delude the collector; but a woodman's axe, a saw, a pickaxe or crowbar, will often be found not too strong. For cutting tufts, &c., a strong garden pruning-knife is good, and an old fixed-handled dinner-knife (carried in a sheath) better. For holding the results of the operation of these instruments, the collector needs but one or two collecting bottles—one rather small and circular, of as clear and strong glass (not cast) as can be got, with a wide mouth and flat bottom. Its neck should not slope, but be of even width, or the cork will often get out of itself. This cork should be a deep one, and be perforated longitudinally by a stout and large round quill, the bottom of which should be level with the bottom of the cork, the top projecting some inch and a half, with the upper orifice not cut off straight, but slightly sloped diagonally, so as more easily to scoop up beetles from the net or hand. It is closed with an accurately fitting, soft, wooden plug, rather longer than the quill, reaching exactly to the bottom of it, but with its top projecting above the top of the quill, and broader than it, so as to be easily pulled out by the teeth when the hands are occupied. The bottle should be secured by stout twine to the buttonhole, enough play being left for it to reach the net in any ordinary position. I usually secure the external junction of quill and cork with red sealing-wax, and have more than once found the bright red catch my eye when I have lost my bottle. [N.B. This loss will always happen to every collector; generally after a peculiarly lucky day's work: so use the string-preventive.] The body of the bottle may usefully be half covered with white paper gummed on. A few stout, plain glass tubes, papered in like way, and with plain corks, should be carried for special captures; and a cyanide bottle,[E] as mentioned at p. 57, or one containing bruised and shredded young laurel shoots, will be found useful for safely bringing home larger species, or such as would devour their fellow-captives. When put into these, beetles almost instantly die and become rigid, needing a stay of two days or so to become relaxed, in which condition they will then safely remain for a considerable period. In the first collecting bottle a piece of muslin should be put, to give the contents foothold: these are brought home alive, and killed by bodily immersion in boiling water, after which they are placed on blotting paper to drain off superfluous moisture.
[E] "Killing bottles," containing cyanide of potassium under a layer of gypsum, may be bought at most natural-history apparatus dealers, and are useful as relaxing dépôts.