forgotten our goodwill towards them on this occasion.

But other batteries have since been built upon these mountain tops,
and it was my business to investigate their positions, strength, and
armaments.

I went armed with most effective weapons for the purpose, which have
served me well in many a similar campaign. I took a sketch-book,
in which were numerous pictures--some finished, others only partly
done--of butterflies of every degree and rank, from a "Red Admiral" to
a "Painted Lady."

Carrying this book and a colour-box, and a butterfly net in my hand,
I was above all suspicion to anyone who met me on the lonely mountain
side, even in the neighbourhood of the forts.

I was hunting butterflies, and it was always a good introduction
with which to go to anyone who was watching me with suspicion. Quite
frankly, with my sketch-book in hand, I would ask innocently whether
he had seen such-and-such a butterfly in the neighbourhood, as I was
anxious to catch one. Ninety-nine out of a hundred did not know one
butterfly from another--any more than I do--so one was on fairly
safe ground in that way, and they thoroughly sympathised with the mad
Englishman who was hunting these insects.

They did not look sufficiently closely into the sketches of
butterflies to notice that the delicately drawn veins of the wings
were exact representations, in plan, of their own fort, and that the
spots on the wings denoted the number and position of guns and their
different calibres.