rection, occasionally, however,
varying its flight about the room. I looked up to see what it could
possibly be at, and instantly observed an ordinary-sized lizard on the
cloth of the upper ceiling. I had not even then the most distant idea of
what was really going on; but seeing the butterfly dart every now and
then at the lizard, I supposed it in play, till its motions became less
quick and animated. The lizard remained all this time immovable, but at
last suddenly shifted its ground to the sloping part of the ceiling. The
motions of the butterfly became still more languid, until at length, to
my utter surprise, I saw the lizard open its mouth, and the butterfly
flew directly into it. The lizard was about half a minute swallowing it,
wings and all. Until the last act of this curious scene, though I well
knew the lizard's object, I supposed it would probably make a leap at
the butterfly, yet had no idea of its succeeding, and expected to see
the butterfly fly away. Had I had an idea of the cause, I should have
broken the charm.

"From that moment I never had the least doubt of the power of
fascination: that power I conceive to be _terror_, which, if the object
was sufficiently terrible, I believe would act equally on man or any
other creature."[178]

Still more strange is it to hear of scorpions fascinating blue-bottle
flies! "On my arrival" says Mr Robert Hunter, "at Nagpur, in Central
India, in 1847, I requested that the first scorpion found in the house
might be allowed to live for a few minutes, that I might have an
opportunity of observing its form and movements. In that part of India
one has rarely to wait long for such a visitant, and on an early evening
my colleague, the Rev. Mr Hislop, announced that there was a scorpion on
the wall. A lamp was set down on the floor, and we took convenient
stations for noting what might pass. Just then a large fly, of the genus
Musca, made its appearance, and soon became aware of the presence of the
scorpion. A strong fury seemed to seize it, irresistibly impelling it to
an insane attack on the terrible occupant of the wall: it flew at it
with all the little force it could muster, the scorpion meanwhile
stretching out its lobster-like claw to catch it as it came. At the
first charge, the fly rebounded from the crustaceous integument of its
adversary, having done no more damage than if a child were to apply its
hand to the well-mailed body of a cuirassier. It seemed amazed at