that the wild ostrich is polygamous. Yet in the next paragraph but one he states that both cock and hen sit on the eggs, and that the cock sits on the nest from about four o'clock in the afternoon until about eight o'clock next morning, approximately sixteen hours.' This must mean that the cock broods all the eggs of all the hens at the same time; for, of course, if the cock has more than one hen, he cannot spend two thirds of each twenty-four hours on each hen's separate nest. I came across only six or eight cases of nesting ostriches and ostriches with broods while I was in Africa. In each case there was only a pair of birds, a cock and a hen; it was only a pair and always a pair that did the brooding of the eggs, and only a pair and always a pair that led the chicks when hatched. Of course, this does not mean that polygamy may not occur; but inasmuch as both the cock and the hen sit on the eggs, and as the sitting cock can hardly cover all the eggs of both or all the hens, polygamy must radically interfere with the normal habits in this respect and accurate and extended observations on wild birds ought to be a preliminary to generalizations on the subject.

Mr. Scully says that the nesting habits offer an undoubted instance of protective coloration. The cock, being jetblack, cannot be seen at night; the hen, which sits throughout the greater part of the day, is more or less the color of the desert sand. She thus attains a maximum of invisibility while on the nest.' This is certainly a misreading of the facts, even if the facts are observed correctly, and is probably a failure to observe them correctly. In Africa I came across wild-ostrich nests five times, always toward noon - that is, between nine in the morning and three in the afternoon. In three cases the hen was on the eggs, in two.cases,

the cock. The cock which I shot and which is in the National Museum at Washington was one of these birds which I, by accident, put up from sitting on its eggs toward midday. Of course, five instances are not sufficient to generalize from, but they do warrant further examination of the subject before making dogmatic assertions as to the cock always sitting at night and the hen always in the daytime. My own observations were that the two sexes sat alternately, and indifferently, during both night and day. Nor are my own observations the only ones to bear out this view. In Selous's Tratel and Adventure, page 463, he speaks of a hen ostrich being shot as she was returning to her nest just at sunset." In Stewart Edward White's Rediscor ered Country, page 123, he describes a return to camp after a morning's hunt. and says, 'Near camp caught sight of a queer-looking black hump, sticking out of the tall grass. When near, it suddenly unfolded into a cock ostrich and departed. We found twenty-eight eggs.'

Moreover, even if the rule laid down by Mr. Scully on this subject proves to apply generally, his interpretation of the rule is certainly erroneous. Protective coloration is a relative matter. Under the conditions which Mr. Scully describes, the cock ostrich is practically always revealingly colored, as compared to the hen, and his coloration is of a highly advertising type. Mr. Scully says that the hen is colored like the desert sand, and therefore attains the maximum of invisibility (compared to the cock) when on the nest. This is true; and it is almost as true at night as in the daytime. Under most conditions, and normally, the cock is more easily seen at night than the hen. Cloudy nights are very rare in the desert: half the time it is moonlight; and then the cock is almost as reveal

ingly colored as in daylight. The rest of the time it is brilliant starlight, and against the desert sand the cock is even then more visible than the hen.

Nor is this all. Mr. Scully says the cock sits on the nest during four hours of daylight, the two hours after sunrise and the two hours before sunset. These are precisely the four hours during which carnivores are most active if they are abroad during daylight at all. African carnivorous beasts are for the most part nocturnal; but they are often active for a couple of hours before sunset or after sunrise; whereas during the heat of the day, say from nine o'clock until four, it is exceptional for them to move round. Therefore, if Mr. Scully is correct, the cock ostrich sits on the nest during the very hours of daylight when its revealing coloration is most dangerous and disadvantageous, while the hen sits on the nest during the hours when her concealing coloration. is of little or no consequence.

Mr. Scully's theory- the accepted theory of many closet naturalists-has no warrant in fact. All the evidence goes to show that neither the revealing coloration of the cock ostrich, nor the concealing coloration of the hen, is a survival factor. The birds' habits and surroundings, their keen sight, wariness, speed, and fecundity, and the desert conditions, not their coloration patterns, are the survival factors.

Mr. Scully speaks of the curious waltzing or gyrating of the ostriches as. not occurring among wild birds. I saw it twice among parties of wild birds in the Sotik country, beyond the Guaro Nyero of the south. Mr. Scully says that, as ostriches live under 'constant menace' from carnivorous foes, 'the general practice of gyration or of

any exercise calculated to attract the attention of enemies is unthinkable.' The facts directly contradict this assertion. In the first place, by the time the young birds are old enough to gyrate or waltz, they are so conspicuous that any foe is sure to see them, whether they are walking about or gyrating; and after their early youth ostriches do not seek to escape observation - they live under such conditions that they trust exclusively to seeing their foes themselves, and not to eluding the sight of their foes. In the second place, 'exercises calculated to attract attention' not merely are not 'unthinkable,' but are actual in the cases of many birds with far more numerous foes than the ostrich has. In East Africa, in parts of the ostrich country, I found the whydah finches numerous. The very conspicuous males performed continuously in their dancing rings, and their exercise was 'calculated to attract the attention of' every beast or bird that possessed eyesight. Relatively to the size of the bird, it was far more conspicuous, far more advertising to all possible enemies, than the waltzing of the ostrich. Certain antelopes, especially when young, indulge in play almost as conspicuous.

Mr. Scully's explanation (of a condition which does not exist) is to the effect that 'probably' the ostrich had its origin in some 'vast Australian tract where carnivora were scarce.' This is mere wild guesswork; all the information that we have indicates that it is the reverse of the truth.

Mr. Scully writes with genuine charm about much of his subject. This would be in no way interfered with if he were more careful, both in his observations and in his generalizations.

COLONEL DRIANT was killed before Verdun, at the head of his superb battalion of chasseurs-à-pied, in February, 1916, on the first day of the terrible German offensive.

Driant was my friend and my colleague in the Chamber of Deputies. He represented Nancy- the same district for which I sat before I was chosen Deputy for Paris.

He wrote some excellent books. His work as an author was an extension of his military and national activity. During twenty-five years, in some thirty volumes, he strove to prepare our young men to face the new German invasion which some of us could see approaching.

When he fell, I went to Verdun. I talked much about him with his comrades in arms. Their words, like the numerous letters from his men, are stones in the monument of his glory. I began at once to collect this useful material; it was the fitting way to be of service to a hero. Thus in my narrative I shall include so far as possible the very words that have remained graven in my memory. In the glowing tales of his comrades, they were magnificent; and if, scattered through my text, they may sound awkward, what does it matter? they preserve something of the last impressions which he made upon his soldiers and his friends. We know that the two battalions

of chasseurs-à-pied which Driant commanded formed one of the links in the chain which covered Verdun to the north; one of the links in theCorps under General

For a long time Driant was free from anxiety. I have been rereading his letters. On November 2, 1914, he wrote me from Samogneux: 'We are holding them here, twenty kilometres from Verdun, so that they can't possi bly place their heavy batteries within range, and they will never take Verdun But for more than a year he witnessed the constant augmentation of the enemy's stock of munitions, and called constantly for works of consolidation on our side.

During the last weeks he was firmly convinced of the imminence of an assault. 'We have numerous and unquestionable indications,' he said; 'the statements of prisoners agree with our information, but there are those who still doubt.' On February 16, he wrote to Paul Sordoillet at Nancy, ‘The Boches are working like ants all about us. The hour of the assault cannot be far away. Never did the phrase, “By God's grace," seem to me less commonplace.'

One evening about this time, when Driant was returning from Verdun to Mormont farm, he said to one of his men, who was with him, —

'Thus far the fates have been kind

to us, but the time draws near when we are going to get a severe blow. My poor chasseurs! Most of all I grieve for the battalion that happens to be in the front line on the day they break loose.'

He expected the battalion to be destroyed on the spot, without even a sight of the enemy.

That same evening, he said again, For my part, I shall never be taken prisoner. I will not! At twenty-five metres I'll put a bullet between the eyes of the first German who comes near. As you know, when I was in the first battalion at Troyes, I was the champion revolver-shot of France.'

In the night of the 20th and 21st he wrote to a former commanding officer of his,

'The attack on Verdun is near at hand, and the Crown Prince has declared, so a deserter informs us, that he is going to take the city and so end the war. He is going to find out what it costs not to take it. If destiny should be adverse to me, I want to give you once more the assurance of an affection which you cannot doubt. From the bottom of my heart I send remembrances to all my friends at Nancy to whom I cannot write. Above all things, do not imagine that I am beset by gloomy thoughts. On the contrary, I am quite calm, and convinced that my usual luck will follow me.'

did not for an instant think of going back. If there is an attack,' he had always said, 'I shall not stay at Mormont, I shall go with the supporting battalion. battalion. What business should I have there when both my battalions were engaged?

He went to the dug-out of the commander of the advanced posts, Major Renouard. The tempest of bullets was frightful, so witnesses tell me, on Caures Wood and the positions near by. All the communications were cut, and the chasseurs were isolated by an incredibly intense barrage. The 210s, 305s, and 380s devastated the woods, overthrew great oaks at every instant, crushed and even fired the dug-outs.

About 11 o'clock, the second in command, Lieutenant Petitcollot, a mining engineer of Lorraine, who was always talking about la revanche,' was killed. The colonel was deeply affected. Shortly after, the post which had resisted most obstinately was blown up, burying fourteen men and an officer in the ruins. At two in the afternoon, not a single dug-out remained.

At four o'clock the Germans began to fire at longer range; then there was a very slight slackening, and at the same moment several men came running in from the outposts, crying, 'Here come the Boches!'

"To arms!' shouted the colonel, seizing a rifle. As he had not troops enough to face the unknown number of the enemy, he sent to Mormont farm for reinforcements, that is, for the 56th, while he himself, fully exposed to the bombardment, ran through the ruined trenches where the chasseurs were.

'Well, boys, how goes it? Your heart's in the work, eh? Here we are; this is our place, we won't budge!' And pointing to the bodies of those whom the bombardment had struck down, he added, What, is it so very hard to do as they did? All together

He at once ordered Lieutenant Rolin to recapture by counter-attack the outposts where the enemy had gained a foothold, in the northwest fringe of Caures Wood.

Lieutenant Rolin succeeded in bombing the enemy out of two trenches, and failed at the third; but about six o'clock reinforcements began to come up, in open order (to avoid heavy casualties), and dribbled into the ranks despite the barrage. Driant sent his men to support Lieutenant Rolin, and there was ground for hope that, notwithstanding the furious artillery assault, the whole wood would be ours at dawn.

The night came on. The colonel passed it walking about the forest. When ever he met one of his men, he spoke words of cheer to him. To some of the 56th he said, Ah! the 56th: the boys from the North- "grousers" all of you! but when there's a blow to be struck, you're on the spot! - You can be certain that I shan't forget you, my boys,' he added; and calling to Sublieutenant Debeugny of the 59th, he bade him take the names of the gallant fellows.

Several times he declared that they must wait and prepare for the great blow of the next day. Under cover of the darkness a wagonload of bombs and munitions arrived. He wrote to General a note, of which these are almost the exact words: 'We shall resist the Boches whether their bombardment is irresistible or not.'

In the morning Lieutenant Rolin and his chasseurs attacked the only one of the trenches lost the day before which the Germans still held; but the enemy had had time to install machineguns there. The rush of the chasseurs was checked, but at all events they held what they had recovered the day before. They were not dislodged, but

teen men, whom Lieutenant Rolin sent to Driant and the rear, were killed one after another on the way.

At one in the afternoon the Germans began a formidable artillery fire. There was a solid mass of shells which crushed everything. Behind that tornado came the infantry the infantry so close behind that many must have been struck by their own missiles. This manœuvre enabled them to debouch suddenly. They hurled themselves upon what remained of our trenches. Driant ordered Lieutenant Undenstock to lead a counter-attack with the bayonet. That officer, on receiving the order, put his bleeding hand behind his back; he had just had a finger shot off, and was fearful that his commander, seeing that he was wounded, would deprive him of that duty. Wrapping the stump in his handkerchief, he rushed to the attack amid the shouts of his men: Forward! down with the Boches!' A bullet brought him to earth. Lieutenant Belgny took his place and fell, shot through the throat.

All this heroism had its effect. The enemy was brought to a standstill. He was checked in front, but continued his turning movement. He got one claw behind Caures Wood, and even into the wood, by way of Haumont and Ville. The bullets whistled through the branches,' says a witness; ' the machine-guns crackled and squalls of shot swept the thickets. Our skirmishers had no cover except ball-proofs made of stones hastily piled up, and shell-holes.

At three o'clock the colonel discovered that his men were being shot in the back. Caures Wood was partially taken in flank. Furthermore, the ammunition was giving out.

He calls his officers together - those splendid men: Major Renouard, Captain Vincent, Captain Hamel. The gravity of his determined face im