11/2/1925 62 make a drive from the face of the tunnel I saw Grandpa bats by the quivering thousands from the [illegible] overhanging wall. An occasional Whiskered bat large and brown was quite conspicuous among the others. No sooner was the net spread than the victims began to fill it. Like winged arrows they shot in; the leaders could not turn back because the others piled in on top and they were followed by more and more, until within a few minutes the net was filled with a biting, squeeking and flopping mass. Dumbfounded I looked at the catch and tried in vain to lift it. For an hour I sat there on the damp cold rocks by the dull glare of the mining lamp, looking at each bat and selecting a selected number by slipping them into an extra bag. At last I arose with hands bleeding from dozens of small punctures. I had looked over 1037 bats all of which were Grandpa bats but eleven Whiskered bats. Had I been alone I never could have found my way out of that mine for all the tunnels and shafts looked alike to me now, just a flare of bats. November 3, 1925 - Day spent working up skins collected yesterday.