In mid-August, a Monarch butterfly laid an egg on one of its leaves. The egg was no larger than the head of a pin. It sparkled in the sun like a tiny jewel.

After a few days the egg hatched, and a tiny creature caterpillar crawled out of the thin shell.

The caterpillar immediately ate the eggshell; then it began to eat the milkweed leaf.

When two weeks had passed, the Monarch caterpillar was two inches long.

It was now 2,700 times as big as when it hatched from the egg.

Its body was circled with black and yellow bands, and it had two horns at each end.

It looked everywhere.

At last it found a good place in a field on the underside of a rail fence.

Here it spun a small patch of silk into which it hooked its hind legs.

Then it hung head-downward.

Its old skin split open and was slowly pushed off.

This case enclosed the future butterfly.

The chrysalis was very beautiful.

It was pale green, marked with golden spots that glistened in the summer sun.

One morning, two weeks later, the chrysalis split open.

Slowly the winged Monarch butterfly crawled out.

But little by little the new Monarch's wings expanded and dried out.

They were rust-red, marked with black, and covered with tiny scales. The scales were like little shingles.

When the Monarch's wings were completely dry, it sailed away across the field.

There were many other Monarch butterflies in the field. In daytime they flitted about with never a care.

When the fall nights became cooler, the Monarchs began to roost together at night. They looked like dead, brown leaves on the tree limbs.

One morning in September, a scientist, form the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto, visited the cluster of roosting Monarchs.

To each Monarch's right, front wing he glued a tiny tag. The tag on Monarch X said: "Send to Museum, Toronto, Canada." It also bore a number.

He hoped that anyone who found one of these tagged Monarchs would send it back to the Royal Ontario Museum, telling where he found it.

If any of the tagged Monarch butterflies were sent back, the scientist would know where they had gone.

By late September, many birds had already left for warmer climates.

As soon as the sun was high enough to warm the butterflies, they spread their wings and fluttered away.

Monarch X flew along with the others.

The large flock of migrating Monarchs soon came to the shore of Lake Ontario. Here they flew about, sipping nectar from various flowers.

A few of the Monarchs flew along the shore.

Soon they were out of sight of land.

Near the center of the lake, heavy rain began to fall.

This made it hard for the Monarchs to fly. Some of them fell into the water and were drowned.

Monarch X also fell into the water. But it managed to flutter up again and fly across the lake with the others that were left.

Within a few hours the Monarchs reached the southern shore of Lake Ontario.

Beyond the southern shore of the lake, the Monarchs came to a wooded area and beyond this was an open field, where many flowers grew.

Here they settled down to drink flower nectar; then they flew southward again.

Day after day they continued their travels, often flying a hundred feet above the ground.

Each morning, after the sun came up and warmed them, they flew on.

One day they stopped in a field to sip nectar in a flower garden.

A small boy with a butterfly net saw Monarch X on a zinnia. He swung his net over the flower and the butterfly fluttered about inside.

The boy intended to add the pretty Monarch to his butterfly collection.

Monarch X was very excited. Suddenly it flapped its wings, slipped out of the boy's fingers, and flew away.

The small boy was sad. He stood watching the butterfly as it flew rapidly away across the garden.

Soon Monarch X found the rest of the flock and together they sailed away over the fields.

At the top of the mountain it was very cool.

High overhead there were many birds. They, too, were flying south for the winter.

The flock of Monarchs settled down in a pine grove for the night.

They crossed over deep canyons where streams tumbled over rocky beds. Then they came to level forests near cities, and towns, and highways.

They were now in the state of Virginia. They paused now and then to drink nectar from red butterfly-weeds that bloomed in the fields.

A few others were eaten by catbirds and cuckoos.

Most other kinds of birds do not like to eat Monarchs.

Monarch X and the others that were left flew on southward.

The flock was not traveling very fast. Usually, they flew along at about 11 miles per hour.

It was late in October when they reached to Carolinas.

The forests were now tinted by autumn's gold and red.

In the meadows goldenrod was blooming.

Sometimes the Monarchs settled down to drink nectar.

The Monarch flock continued on southward as if guided by some built-in compass. They crossed the state of Georgia and came to the great Okefenokee Swamp. Here they flew through a great forest, whose cypress trees were draped with streamers of Spanish moss that swayed in the breeze.

Below them were dark waters, where alligators and turtles lay sleeping upon fallen logs.

Late in the night, a mouselike shrew found the sleeping Monarchs and ate many of them. Only their wings were left.

When dawn came, there were many Monarch wings scattered like dead leaves upon the ground beneath the oak.

The sun rose over the brown waters of the swamp and, one by one, the rest of the Monarchs flew away.

The Okefenokee Swamp was very large. It took many days for the flock of Monarchs to fly through it.

Each night, while the butterflies slept in trees, the autumn moon hung over the watery forest.

Sometimes the call of the great horned owl could be heard.

Deep in the swamp, beneath a spreading live oak, there was a dark pool where a very old bass lived.

One day in early November the Monarch flock glided across the pool.

Monarch X flew just above the water's surface.

The bass saw the butterfly and lunged out of the water with its jaws wide open.

But the Monarch saw the great fish and darted away just in time.

There was a loud splash as the bass fell back into the water.

They crossed the lazy, brown Suwannee River as it meandered southward toward the Gulf of Mexico.

The weather was warmer now and, at night, damp fog drifted out of the lowlands.

Some mornings the roosting Monarchs were wet with dew.

But each morning, after the sun had warmed and dried them, they flew on toward the west.

The islands were covered with fanlike palmettos that rustled in the breeze.

The Monarchs flew across the swamp and over the wide river.

There were other butterflies flying across the swamp, too.

These were cloudless sulphur butterflies. They were flying eastward while the Monarchs traveled westward. Different kinds of butterflies often migrate in different directions.

Suddenly, dark storm clouds filled the sky and great winds began to blow.

A hurricane had struck the Gulf Coast and was slowly blowing inland.

The Monarchs settled in the bushes and clung to twigs and leaves. Their wings were wet and limp.

For several days the winds lashed the forest, and some of the Monarchs were killed.

What was left of the flock flew on, still westward.

They crossed over the great marsh-grass prairies of Louisiana.

Beneath them the tall grass swayed in the breeze.

White egrets waded about in the water looking for minnows.

In early December, the butterfly flock left the Louisiana marshes and came to Texas.

Sometimes the Monarchs settled down to drink nectar.

In Texas, there were fewer trees, so at night the flock formed roosting clusters in low mesquite bushes.

While flying along in the daytime, some of the Monarchs were captured by hungry birds.

Gradually the Monarchs began to change their direction of flight.

Soon they were traveling southward again.

One day in December the flock crossed the Rio Grande at Eagle Pass, Texas, and flew into Mexico.

The size of the flock was slowly decreasing.

In Mexico, the country was dry and desert-like. The ground was sandy and covered with low trees and cactus.

There were few flowers from which the butterflies could drink nectar.

But the Monarchs flew through a pass or gap in the mountains.

High overhead, buzzards circled in the sky. They were not interested in the Monarchs; they were looking for larger game.

Beyond the high mountains there were low mountains and then hills.

Sometimes the Monarchs passed tiny Mexican villages.

Always they flew toward the south.

In early January the flock of migrating Monarchs came to a river called the Sabinas.

They followed the river down to a large lake, where there were many people fishing along the shore.

Some of the people looked up and watched the long string of butterflies.

Then they went on fishing again.

One day the flock came to a railroad track that stretched away toward the south.

Along the railroad track there was a village, where many flowers grew around a church.

Monarch X dropped down to sip nectar from the bright blooms.

The rest of the flock flew on toward the south.

Monarch X was left behind.

Monarch X soon drank its fill of nectar and flew away across the low hills.

One boy ran after the lone Monarch and captured it under his sombrero.

Curiously, the little Mexican boy looked at the pretty butterfly and saw the tag that had been placed on its right wing in far-off Canada.

The tag had English words on it, and he could read only Spanish.

Then he tossed the butterfly out of the window and it sailed rapidly away across the cactus-covered hills.

Later, he showed his teacher the paper with the numbers and words he had written. She wrote to the Museum at Toronto, Canada, telling them about the capture of the tagged Monarch.

The scientist at the museum was very pleased when he received the letter.

As far as it is known, it had flown farther than any of the thousands of other Monarchs that had been tagged.

Its paper-thin wings had carried it southward across a vast continent. It had survived storms and escaped many enemies along the way.

That is the amazing story of Monarch X, a frail butterfly that established a world's record for long-distance travel.