Moths of the Limberlost | Page 8

that a moth rubbed bare of down
would seem as if covered with thinly cut, highly polished horn,
fastened together in divisions. This is called `chitine' by scientists.
The thorax bears four wings, and six legs, each having five joints and
ending in tiny claws. The wings are many-veined membranous sacs,
covered with scales that are coloured according to species and arranged
to form characteristic family markings. They are a framework usually
of twelve hollow tubes or veins that are so connected with the
respiratory organs as to be pneumatic. These tubes support double
membranes covered above and below with down. At the bases of the
wings lie their nerves. The fore-wings each have a heavy rib running
from the base and gradually decreasing to the tip. This is called the
costa. Its purpose is to bear the brunt of air-pressure in flight. On
account of being compelled to fly so much more than the females, the
back wings of the males of many species have developed a secondary
rib that fits under and supports the front, also causing both to work
together with the same impulse to flight. A stiff bunch of bristles serves
the same purpose in most females, while some have a lobe extending
from the fore-wing. As long as the costa remains unbroken to preserve
balance, a moth that has become entangled in bushes or suffered rough
treatment from birds can fly with badly damaged wing surfaces.
In some species, notably the Attacine group and all non-feeding,
night-flying moths, the legs are short, closely covered with long down
of the most delicate colours of the moth, and sometimes decorated with
different shades. Luna has beautiful lavender legs, Imperialis yellow,
and Regalis red-brown. The day-flying, feeding group have longer,
slenderer legs, covered with shorter down, and carry more elaborate
markings. This provision is to enable them to cling firmly to flower or
twig while feeding, to help them to lift the body higher, and walk
dextrously in searching for food. It is also noticeable that these moths
have, for their size, comparatively much longer, slenderer wings than
the non-feeders, and they can turn them back and fold them together in

the fly position, thus enabling them to force their way into
nectar-bearing flowers of trumpet shape.
The abdomen is velvet soft to the touch, and divided into rings called
segments, these being so joined that this member can be turned and
twisted at will. In all cases the last ring contains the sex organs. The
large abdomen of the female carries several hundred embryo eggs, and
that of the male the seminal fluid.
Much has been written of moths being able to produce odours that
attract the sexes, and that are so objectionable as to protect them from
birds, mice, and bats. Some believe there are scent glands in a few
species under the wing scales. I have critically examined scores of
wings as to colour markings, but never noticed or smelled these. On
some, tufts of bristlelike hairs can be thrust out, that give a discernible
odour; but that this carries any distance or is a large factor in attracting
the sexes I do not believe so firmly, after years of practical experience,
as I did in the days when I had most of my moth history from books. I
have seen this theory confounded so often in practice.
In June of 1911, close six o'clock in the evening, I sat on the front
veranda of the Cabin, in company with my family, and watched three
moths sail past us and around the corner, before I remembered that on
the screen of the music-room window to the east there was a solitary
female Promethea moth, that day emerged from a cocoon sent me by
Professor Rowley. I hurried to the room and found five male moths
fluttering before the screen or clinging to the wild grape and sweet brier
vines covering it. I opened the adjoining window and picked up three
of the handsomest with my fingers, placing them inside the screen.
Then I returned to the veranda.
Moths kept coming. We began studying the conditions. The female had
emerged in the diningroom on the west side of the cabin. On account of
the intense heat of the afternoon sun, that side of the building had been
tightly closed all day. At four o'clock the moth was placed on the east
window, because it was sheltered with vines. How soon the first male
found her, I do not know. There was quite a stiff evening breeze
blowing from the west, so that any odour from her would have been

carried on east. We sat there and watched and counted six more moths,
every one of which came down wind from the west, flying high, above
the treetops in