Fabre's book of insects

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FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

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THE SACRED BEETLE Sometimes the Scarab seems

to

a friend

enter into partnership zvith Poge 13

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FAB RE'S

?

BOOK OF INSECTS

RETOLD FROMALEXANDER TEIXEIRADE MATTOS' TRANSLATK)N of FABRES "SOUVENIRS ENTOMOLOGIQUES"

FT MRS.RODOLPH STAWELL Illustrated

hy

E-J-DETMOLD

NEW YORK DODD,

MEAD AND COMPANY 1921

COPTBIOHT, 1921.

Bt DODD. itEAD AND COICPANT. INQ

PRINTRD nr

U. B. A.

CONTENTS CHAPTER

I

MY WORK AND MY WORKSHOP CHAPTER THE SACRED BEETLE

CHAPTER

PAGE i

II

u

m

THE CICADA

2$

CHAPTER THE PRAYING MANTIS

IV 40

CHAPTER V

THE GLOW-WORM

54

CHAPTER

VI

A MASON-WASP

69

CHAPTER

THE PSYCHES

VII

89 vii

CONTENTS CHAPTER VIII THE SELF-DENIAL OF THE SPANISH COPRIS

CHAPTER IX TWO STRANGE GRASSHOPPERS

PACE .

.

109

121

CR\PTER X

COMMON WASPS

138

CHAPTER XI THE ADVENTURES OF A GRUB

157

CHAPTER

XII

THE CRICKET

175

CHAPTER

XIII

THE SISYPHUS

198

CHAPTER XIV

THE CAPRICORN

209

CHAPTER XV LOCUSTS

227

CHAPTER XVI THE ANTHRAX FLY viii

149

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

THE SACRED BEETLE

.

.

Frontispiece

.

Sometimes the Scarab seems to enter into partnership with a friend

THE CICADA

^,„„, PASB

In July, when most of the insects in my sunny country are parched with thirst, the Cicada remains perfectly cheerful

26

THE PRAYING MANTIS A

long time ago, in the days of ancient Greece, this insect was Mantis, or the Prophet

named 42

PELOPiEUS SPIRIFEX When

finished the work is amber-yellow, outer skin of an onion

and rather reminds one of the 80

THE PSYCHES It is a is the secret of the walking bundle of sticks. Caterpillar, belonging to the group known as the Psyches

This

Faggot

...

90

THE SPANISH COPRIS The burrow

is almost filled by three or four ovoid nests, standing one 116 against the other, with the pointed end upwards

THE WHITE-FACED DECTICUS The Greek word is

dectikos

well named.

It is

means biting, fond of biting. The Decticus eminently an insect given to biting .130 .

.

.

COMMON WASPS The

wasp's nest

formed of

is

made

of a thin, flexible material like brown paper,

particles of

wood

144

THE FIELD CRICKET one of the humblest of creatures able to lodge himself to He has a home; he has a peaceful retreat, the first 180 condition of comfort

Here

is

perfection.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

THE SISYPHUS PAfll

The mother

The

harnesses herself in the place of honour, in front.

father pushes behind in the reverse position, head

downwards

.

.

204

.

.

238

ITALIAN LOCUSTS "I have buried underground," she says, "the treasure of the future"

THE ANTHRAX FLY Her

delicate suit of

downy

merely breathing on tunnels

it,

velvet,

from which you

take the

bloom by

could not withstand the contact of rough

258

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

CHAPTER

I

MY WORK AND MY WORKSHOP

WE

have our own

all

Sometimes these

talents, our special gifts.

gifts

seem

to

come

from our forefathers, but more often

to us it is

difficult to trace their origin.

A goatherd,

perhaps, amuses himself by counting little

pebbles and doing sums with them.

He

becomes an

toundingly quick reckoner, and in the end of mathematics.

is

as-

a professor

Another boy, at an age when most of

us care only for play, leaves his schoolfellows at their

games and

listens to the

secret concert heard

music. his

A

third

—

imaginary sounds of an organ, a

by him alone.

He

has a genius for

so small, perhaps, that he cannot eat

bread and jam without smearing his face

keen delight in fashioning clay into

amazingly

lifelike.

—takes a

little figures

If he be fortunate he will

that are

some day

be a famous sculptor.

I

To talk about oneself is hateful, I know, but perhaps may be allowed to do so for a moment, in order to intro-

duce myself and my studies. [1]

FABRE'S From my

BOOK OF INSECTS

earliest childhood

the things of Nature.

It

I

have

felt

drawn towards

would be ridiculous

that this gift, this love of observing plants

my

soil

Of my

and sheep.

suppose

and

insects,

who were uneducated and observed little but their own cows

was inherited from people of the

to

ancestors,

four grandparents only one ever

opened a book, and even he was very uncertain about

Nor do

spelling.

I

owe anything

Without masters, without

to a scientific training.

guides, often without books, I

have gone forward with one aim always before

add a few pages

As

—

self as a tiny boy,

of

my

so

many

years back!

extremely proud of

attempts to learn the alphabet.

remember

the delight of finding

gathering

my

One day row of

From

I

first

trees that

window

the sky, tossing before the

wind

—ever

I

my

can see my-

I

first

And

first

braces and

very well

bird's nest

I

and

At the top of

it

was a

I

could see them against

or writhing

madly

in the

wished to have a closer view of them.

was a long climb short.

—

had long interested me very much.

home

I

my

a hill.

at

snow, and

to

:

mushroom.

was climbing

the little

me

to the history of insects.

look back

I

his

so long;

and

my

legs

It

were very

clambered up slowly and tediously, for the

grassy slope was as steep as a roof.

Suddenly, at

my

feet, a lovely bird flew

[2]

out from

its

MY WORK AND MY WORKSHOP hiding-place under a big stone.

found the

and had

nest,

In a

which was made of hair and

by

six eggs laid side

side in

nest I ever found, the

first

birds were to bring me.

of the

I

had

fine straw,

The eggs were

it.

a magnificent azure blue, very bright.

lay

moment

This was the

many

first

joys which the

Overpowered with

pleasure, I

down on the grass and stared at it.

Meanwhile the mother-bird was from stone

she was suffering.

of prey.

I

"Tack!

to stone, crying

the greatest anxiety.

Tack!"

was too small

I I

flying about uneasily

made

to

in a voice of

understand what

a plan worthy of a little beast

would carry away

just one of the pretty blue

eggs as a trophy, and then, in a fortnight,

I

would come

back and take the tiny birds before they could Fortunately, as

I

away.

walked carefully home, carrying my blue

egg on a bed of moss,

"Ah!" said

fly

he.

I

met

"A

the priest.

Saxicola's egg

I

Where did you

get it?" I told

him the whole

others," I said,

"when

story.

the

"I shall go back for the

young

birds have got their

quill-feathers."

"Oh, but you mustn't do that I" cried the

"You mustn't

priest.

be so cruel as to rob the poor mother of

all her little birds.

Be a good boy, now, and promise not

to touch the nest."

[3]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S From

conversation

this

that robbing birds' nests

and beasts have names

"What

are the

Saxicola

just like ourselves.

mean?"

all

asked

I

first,

cruel and, secondly, that birds

is

names of

and meadows?"

two things:

learnt

I

Years

my

"And what does

myself. later I

means an inhabitant of the

woods

friends in the

learnt that Saxicola

My

rocks.

bird with the

blue eggs was a Stone-chat.

Below our the brook

was a spinney of beeches with smooth, straight

The ground was padded with

trunks, like pillars. It

was

in this

spinney that

which looked, when

dropped on the were

many

colours.

and beyond

village there ran a little brook,

I

nrjoss

I

my

picked

first

moss.

mushroom,

like

an egg

by some wandering hen.

There

caught sight of

it,

others there, of different sizes, forms,

Some

extinguishers,

were

some

shaped

like cups:

like

bells,

some

and like

some were broken, and

were weeping tears of milk: some became blue when I trod

Others, the most curious of

on them.

like pears

—

with a round hole at the top

whence a whiff of smoke escaped when under-side with these,

my

finger.

I

and made them smoke at

filled

my

all,

a sort of I

my

were

chimney

prodded their pockets with

leisure, till at last

they were reduced to a kind of tinder.

Many

a time

I

returned to that delightful spinney,

[4]

MY WORK AND MY WORKSHOP and

my

learnt

company of

first

lessons

in

My

the Crows.

mushroom-lore in the

collections, I

need hardly

were not admitted to the house.

say,

—by observing Nature and making experi-

In this way^

ments

—nearly

all

except two, in fact.

my I

lessons

my

all

have received from others two

lessons of a scientific character,

whole course of

have been learnt:

and two only,

in the

one in anatomy and one in

life:

chemistry. I

owe

the

first

to the learned naturalist

who showed me how

don,

to explore the interior of a

Snail in a plate filled with water.

and

The

lesson

was short

fruitful.^

My first introduction to It

Moquin-Tan-

ended

chemistry was less fortunate.

in the bursting of a glass vessel, with the result

that most of

my

fellow-pupils were hurt, one of them

nearly lost his sight, the lecturer's clothes were burnt to pieces,

with

and the wall of the lecture-room was splashed

stains.

Later on, when

I

returned to that room, no

longer as a pupil but as a master, the splashes were

On

there.

Ever

after,

my pupils It has *

still

that occasion I learnt one thing at least.

when

I

made experiments

of that kind,

I

kept

at a distance.

always been

my great desire

to

have a laboratory

See Insect Adventures, retold for young people from the works of Henri Fabre.

[5]

FABRE'S

—not an easy thing

open

in the

BOOK OF INSECTS

fields

to obtain

about one's daily

lives in a state of constant anxiety

For forty years

bread.

it

when one

was

my dream

for

the

own

to

a little

sake of

privacy: a

desolate, barren, sun-scorched bit of land,

overgrown

bit

with

fenced

land,

of

in

and much beloved by Wasps and Bees.

thistles

Here, without fear of interruption,

Hunting-wasps and others of

my

I

might question the

friends in that difficult

language which consists of experiments and observaHere, without the long expeditions and rambles

tions.

that use

up

my

time and strength,

I

might watch

my

insects at every hour of the day.

And

then, at last,

my wish was

fulfilled.

I

obtained a

bit of land in the solitude of a little village.

harmas^ which

is

the

name we give

in

It

this

was a

part of

Provence to an untilled, pebbly expanse where hardly

any plant but thyme can grow.

It is too

poor to be worth

the trouble of ploughing, but the sheep pass there in spring,

when

it

has chanced to rain and a

little

grass

grows up.

My

own

particular harmas,

however, had a small

quantity of red earth mixed with the stones, and had

been roughly cultivated.

grew

here,

and

I

was

I

was

told that vines once

sorry, for the original vegetation

had been driven out by the three-pronged

[6]

fork.

There

!

MY WORK AND MY WORKSHOP was no thyme

left,

As thyme and lavender might be useful

the dwarf oak. to

me

nor lavender, nor a single clump of

as a hunting-ground for Bees

and Wasps,

I

was

obliged to plant them again.

There were plenty of weeds centauries,

and the

fierce

:

couch-grass,

and prickly

Spanish oyster-plant, with

spreading orange flowers and spikes strong as

Above

it

straight

and

its

nails.

towered the Illyrian cotton-thistle, whose solitary stalk

grows sometimes to the height

of six feet and ends in large pink tufts.

There were

smaller thistles too, so well armed that the plant-collector

can hardly

tell

weeds, and in

where

to grasp them,

among them,

and spiky knap-

in long lines provided with

hooks, the shoots of the blue dewberry creeping along the ground.

If

you had

visited this prickly thicket with-

out wearing high boots, you would have paid dearly for

your rashness

Such was the Eden that

I

won by

forty years of

desperate struggle.

This curious, barren Paradise of mine

is

the

Never

hunting-ground of countless Bees and Wasps.

have spot.

I

happy

seen so large a population of insects at a single

All the trades have

made

it

their centre.

come hunters of every kind of game, builders cotton-weavers, leaf-cutters,

[7]

architects

in

Here

in clay,

pasteboard,

;

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S plasterers

mixing mortar, carpenters boring wood, miners

digging underground galleries, workers in gold-beaters'

and many more.

skin,

—here

See

is

She scrapes the cobwebby

a Tailor-bee.

stalk of the yellow-flowered centaury,

and gathers a

of wadding which she carries off proudly

mandibles or jaws.

She will turn

it,

ball

with her

underground, into

cotton satchels to hold the store of honey and the eggs.

And

here are the Leaf-cutting Bees, carrying their black,

white, or blood-red reaping brushes under their bodies.

They

will visit the neighbouring shrubs,

from the leaves oval pieces

Here

in

and there cut

which to wrap

their harvest.

too are the black, velvet-clad Mason-bees,

work with cement and gravel.

We

who

could easily find

specimens of their masonry on the stones in the harmas.

Next comes a kind of Wild Bee who winding

who

staircase of

stacks her cells in the

an empty snail-shell; and another

lodges her grubs in the pith of a dry bramble-stalk

and a

third

fourth

who

Mason-bee.

who

uses the channel of a cut reed; and a

lives rent-free in the

vacant galleries of some

There are also Bees with horns, and Bees

with brushes on their hind-legs, to be used for reaping.

While

the walls of

great heaps of stones

my

harmas were being built some

and mounds of sand were scattered

here and there by the builders, and were soon occupied

by a variety of inhabitants. [8]

The Mason-bees

chose the

:

MY WORK AND MY WORKSHOP chinks between the stones for their sleeping-place.

The

powerful Eyed Lizard, who, when hard pressed, attacks both

man and

dog, selected a cave in which to

lie in

The Dominican monk

for the passing Scarab, or Sacred Beetle.

eared Chat,

who

looks like a

wait

Blackin his

white-and-black raiment, sat on the top stone singing his

His

brief song.

nest,

with the sky-blue eggs, must have

been somewhere in the heap.

moved

the little

When

Dominican moved

the stones were

too.

I regret

he would have been a charming neighbour.

Lizard

I

do not regret at

The sand-heaps by the

some who

sheltered a colony of Digger-wasps

But

builders.

flutter

The Eyed

all.

and Hunting-wasps, who were, at last

him:

to

still

my sorrow,

turned out

there are hunters left

about in search of Caterpillars, and

Wasp who actually has the courTarantula. Many of these mighty

one very large kind of age to hunt the

Spiders have their burrows in the harmas, and you can see their eyes gleaming at the bottom of the den like little

diamonds.

On

also see Amazon-ants,

battalions

Nor

and march

May

it

who

leave their barracks in long

The

hunt for

slaves.

shrubs about the house are

Warblers and Greenfinches, Sparrows and

Owls; while the pond in

summer afternoons you may

far afield to

are these all.

full of birds,

hot

is

so popular with the Frogs that

becomes a deafening orchestra. [9]

And

boldest

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S of

all,

the

Wasp

has taken possession of the house

On my doorway I

go indoors

I

window

must be careful not

work of mining.

to tread

upon her

wall.

To

as

Just within a closed

Mason-wasp has made her

a kind of

upon the freestone

nest

White-banded Sphex: when

lives the

she carries on her

itself.

earth-built

enter her

home

On

uses a little hole left by accident in the shutters. the mouldings of the Venetian blinds a

she

few stray Mason-

The Common Wasp and the me at dinner. The object of their

bees build their cells. Solitary visit,

Wasp

visit

apparently,

is

to see

if

my companions.

Such are

my

grapes are ripe.

My dear beasts, my friends

of former days and other more recent acquaintances, are all

here,

families.

and building,

hunting,

And

if

I

and feeding

their

wish for change the mountain

is

and

rock-roses,

and heather, where Wasps and Bees delight

to gather.

close to me, with its tangle of arbutus,

And came

that

is

why

I

deserted the town for the village, and

to Serignan to

weed my turnips and water

lettuces.

[10]

my

CHAPTER

II

THE SACRED BEETLE

THE BALL six or

is

IT

seven thousand years since the Sacred

Beetle was

first

talked about.

The peasant

of

ancient Egypt, as he watered his patch of onions in the spring,

would

see

from time to time a fat black

insect pass close by, hurriedly trundling a ball backwards.

He

would watch

as the peasant of

The

the queer rolling thing in

Provence watches

it

amazement,

to this day.

early Egyptians fancied that this ball

symbol of the earth, and that

was a

all the Scarab's actions

were prompted by the movements of the heavenly bodies.

seemed

So much knowledge of astronomy to

them almost divine, and

the Sacred Beetle. rolled on the

They

is

why he

is

called

also thought that the ball he

ground contained the egg, and that the

young Beetle came out of it is

that

in a Beetle

But

it.

as a matter of fact,

simply his store of food.

It is

not at

all nice food.

For the work of

[11]

this

Beetle

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS is

to scour the filth

he

from the surface of the

rolls so carefully

roads and

This

is

head

flat

is

made

The

soil.

ball

of his sweepings from the

fields.

how he

The edge

it.

of his broad,

notched with six teeth arranged in a semi-

is

circle, like

about

sets

a sort of curved rake; and this he uses for

digging and cutting up, for throwing aside the stuff he does not want, and scraping together the food he chooses.

His bow-shaped

fore-legs are also useful tools, for they

are very strong, and they too have five teeth on the outside.

So

if

a vigorous effort be needed to remove some

obstacle the Scarab

makes use of

his elbows, that

say he flings his toothed legs to right and

left,

Then he

a space with an energetic sweep.

the stuff against his it

The

and spinning

ball.

In a

it

body with

moment

till it

bowed

curving

forms a perfect

a tiny pellet grows to the size of

a walnut, and soon to that of an apple.

some gluttons manufacture a

The

I

have seen

ball as big as a man's

Wlien the ball of provisions to a suitable place.

it

Beetle then presses

his hind-legs,

round and round

arm-

These are

last pair, slightly

finished with a sharp claw.

clears

collects

beneath him, between the four hinder-legs.

and

to

and pushes

fuls of the stuff he has raked together,

long and slender, especially the

and

is

is

ready

it

must be moved

Beetle begins the journey.

clasps the ball with his long hind-legs

fist.

He

and walks with

THE SACRED BEETLE his fore-legs,

moving backwards with

He

his hind-quarters in the air.

him by

alternate thrusts to right

his

head down and

pushes his load behind

and

left.

One would

expect him to choose a level road, or at least a gentle incline.

Not

Let him find himself near some

at all!

steep slope, impossible to climb, and that is the very path the obstinate creature will attempt. The ball, that enormous burden, is painfully hoisted step by step, with in-

finite precautions, to a certain height,

Then by some

rash

movement

always backwards.

all this toil is

wasted:

the ball rolls down, dragging the Beetle with it. more the heights are climbed, and another fall result.

Again and again the

Once is

the

insect begins the ascent.

The merest trifle ruins everything; a grass-root may trip him up or a smooth bit of gravel make him slip, and down come ball and Beetle, all mixed up together. Ten or twenty times he will start afresh,

till

at last he

is

successful, or else sees the hopelessness of his efforts

and

resigns himself to taking the level road.

Sometimes the Scarab seems with a friend. pens.

When

to enter into partnership

way

in

the Beetle's ball

is

This

is

the

crowd of workers, pushing neighbour, whose

own

task

his is

which

it

usually hap-

ready he leaves the prize backwards.

A

hardly begun, suddenly

drops his work and runs to the moving ball, to lend a hand to the owner. His aid seems to be accepted

[13]

FABRE S BOOK OF INSECTS But the new-comer

willingly.

he

is

a robber.

and patience;

is

not really a partner;

To make one's own

ball needs hard

work

one ready-made, or to invite one-

to steal

self to a neighbour's dinner,

much

is

Some

easier.

thiev-

ing Beetles go to work craftily, others use violence.

Sometimes a thief comes flying up, knocks over the

owner of the

With

ball,

and perches himself on top of

his fore-legs crossed

out, he awaits events.

over his breast, ready to hit

If the

his back.

the ball off.

A

till it

Then

owner

raises himself to

him a blow that

seize his ball the robber gives

him on

begins rolling, and perhaps the thief falls

wrestling-match

follows.

The two

their legs lock

their joints intertwine, their

Beetles

and unlock,

horny armour clashes and

grates with the rasping sound of metal under a

after

stretches

oVner gets up and shakes

the

grapple with one another:

one who

The

file.

and

successful climbs to the top of the ball,

is

two or three attempts

Scarab goes

it.

off to

to dislodge

make himself

a

him

new

the defeated

pellet.

I

have

sometimes seen a third Beetle appear, and rob the robber.

But sometimes the cunning.

He

thief bides his time

and

pretends to help the victim to

trusts to roll

the

food along, over sandy plains thick with thyme, over cart-ruts

and steep

places, but he really does very little

of the work, preferring to

When

sit

a suitable place for a

on the ball and do nothing.

burrow

[14]

is

reached the right-

THE SACRED BEETLE ful

owner begins

and toothed

with his sharp-edged forehead

to dig

armfuls of sand behind him,

legs, flinging

while the thief clings to the ball, shamming dead.

The

cave grows deeper and deeper, and the working Scarab disappears from view.

Whenever he comes

to the sur-

face he glances at the ball, on which the other

mure and

But

motionless, inspiring confidence.

de-

lies,

as the

absences of the owner become longer the thief seizes his chance,

and hurriedly makes

off

with the

ball,

which he

pushes behind him with the speed of a pickpocket afraid of being caught.

If the

owner catches him,

as some-

times happens, he quickly changes his position, and seems

down

to plead as an excuse that the pellet rolled slope,

and he was only trying

And

to stop it!

the

two

the

bring the ball back as though nothing had happened. If the thief has

managed

to get safely

away, however,

the owner can only resign himself to his

He

does with admirable fortitude. sniffs the air, flies off,

and begins

his

loss,

which he

rubs his cheeks,

work

over again.

all

admire and envy his character.

I

At is

last his provisions are safely stored.

His burrow

a shallow hole about the size of a man's

fist,

dug

in

soft earth or sand, with a short passage to the surface,

just wide is

enough

to admit the ball.

rolled into this

As soon

as his

food

burrow the Scarab shuts himself

by stopping up the entrance with [15]

rubbish.

The

in

ball

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S fills

almost the whole room: the banquet

rises

from

Only a narrow passage runs between

to ceiling.

the walls, and here

often only one. night, for a

the banqueters,

sit

Here

week

two

and

at most, very

the Sacred Beetle feasts

or a fortnight at

it

floor

day and without

a time,

ceasing.

II

THE PEAR As

I

have already

said, the ancient

that the egg of the Sacred Beetle that is

I

not

have been describing. so.

One day

I

Egyptians thought

was within the

ball

have proved that

it

discovered the truth about the

I

Scarab's egg.

A came

young shepherd who helps me to

me one Sunday

his hand.

It

was exactly

all its fresh colour

was firm

it;

it

in

had

lost

in rotting.

It

like a tiny pear that

and very graceful

the materials of which

egg inside

June with a queer thing

and had turned brown

to the touch

nicely chosen.

in

in his spare time

in shape,

though

was formed seemed none too

The shepherd

assured

me

for a similar pear, crushed

there

was an

by accident

in

the digging, had contained a white egg the size of a grain

of wheat.

[16]

THE SACRED BEETLE At daybreak the next morning

the shepherd

and

I

went

We met among the brows-

out to investigate the matter.

ing sheep, on some slopes that had lately been cleared of trees.

A Sacred it

Beetle's

by the fresh

little

burrow

mound

is

soon found

of earth above

you can

:

trowel, while I lay

unearthed.

A

down, the better

shall not soon forget

wonderful work. I,

my

pocket

what was being

cave -opened out, and there

in the moist earth, a splendid pear

greater had

to see

My com-

it.

panion dug vigorously into the ground with

tell

I

saw, lying

upon the ground.

I

my first sight of the mother Beetle's

My

excitement could have been no

in digging

among

the relics of ancient

Egypt, found the sacred insect carved in emerald.

We went on with our search, and found a second hole. Here, by the side of the pear and fondly embracing

was

the mother Beetle, engaged no doubt in giving

it,

it

the finishing touches before leaving the burrow for good.

There was no possible doubt that the pear was the nest of the Scarab. least a

In the course of the

hundred such

summer

I

found at

nests.

The pear, like the ball, is formed of up in the fields, but the materials are less

refuse scraped coarse, because

they are intended for the food of the grub.

comes out of the egg

it is

When

incapable of searching for

[17]

it

its

FABRE'S own

BOOK OF INSECTS

meals, so the mother arranges that

surrounded by the food that suits

it

shall find itself

best.

it

can begin

It

eating at once, without further trouble.

The egg germ

of

is

life,

laid in the

whether of plant or animal, needs

the shell of a bird's egg

of pores.

narrow end of the pear.

even

air:

number

riddled with an endless

germ of the Scarab were

If the

part of the pear

is

Every

in the thick

would be smothered, because there the

it

materials are very closely packed, and are covered with

a hard rind.

room with its first

So the mother Beetle prepares a nice airy

thin walls for her little grub to live in, during

There

moments.

is

a certain

amount of

in the very centre of the pear, but not

By

cate baby-grub.

centre he

There

is is,

the time he has eaten his

strong enough to

manage with very

even

for a deli-

way

to the

little air.

of course, a good reason for the hardness of

the shell that covers the big

Scarab's burrow

is

end of the pear.

extremely hot:

perature reaches boiling point.

though they have to liable to

enough

air

last

sometimes the tem-

The

provisions, even

only three or four weeks, are

dry up and become uneatable.

of the soft food of

its first

The

When,

instead

meal, the unhappy grub finds

nothing to eat but horrible crusty stuff as hard as a pebble,

it is

bound

to die of hunger.

I

have found numbers

of these victims of the August sun. are baked in a sort of closed oven.

[18]

To

The poor

things

lessen this

danger

THE SACRED BEETLE the mother Beetle compresses the outer layer of the pear

—or nest—with arms, to turn

all the strength of her stout, flat fore-

into a protecting rind like the shell of

it

This helps to ward

a nut.

summer months

the housewife puts her bread into a

closed pan to keep its

own

fashion

In the hot

off the heat.

it

The

fresh.

insect does the

by dint of pressure

:

it

same

in

covers the family

bread with a pan.

I

have watched the Sacred Beetle at work in her den,

know how she makes her pear-shaped nest. With the building-materials she has collected

so I

shuts herself

up underground

so as to give her

The

tention to the business in hand.

As a

obtained in two ways. tions, she

rule,

As

it rolls

on the surface and gathers a tiny grains of sand, which

is

whole

at-

may

be

materials

under natural condi-

kneads a ball in the usual way and

a favourable spot.

she

along

it

rolls it to

hardens a

little

slight crust of earth

and

Now

and

useful later on.

then, however, the Beetle finds a suitable place for her

burrow quite

close to the spot

building-materials,

and

in that case she

armfuls of stuff into the hole. ing.

One day

burrow.

Next

I

where she

see a shapeless

The

collects her

simply bundles

result

is

most

lump disappear

strik-

into the

day, or the day after, I visit the Beetle's

workshop and find the

artist in front of her

[19]

work.

The

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS formless mass of scrapings has become a pear, perfect

and exquisitely

in outline

The

finished.

part that rests on the floor of the burrow

over with particles of sand, while the rest

is

crusted

polished

This shows that the Beetle has not rolled

like glass.

the pear round and round, but has shaped

She has modelled

lies.

is

feet, just as she

it

with

models her ball

little

it

where

it

taps of her broad

in the daylight.

By making an artificial burrow for the mother Beetle in my own workshop, with the help of a glass jar full of earth, and a peep-hole through which operations,

I

can observe

I

have been able to see the work

in its vari-

ous stages.

The

Beetle

makes a complete

and applying pressure,

In this

ball.

Then

she

neck of the pear by making a ring round the

starts the

ball

first

way

till

the ring becomes a groove.

a blunt projection

is

pushed out at one side

In the centre of this projection she employs

of the ball.

further pressure to form a sort of crater or hollow, with

a swollen rim; and gradually the hollow

is

and the swollen rim thinner and thinner, formed. side, the

In this sack, which

egg

end of the

is

laid.

pear,

is

is

made deeper till

a sack

is

polished and glazed in-

The opening of

the sack, or extreme

then closed with a plug of stringy

fibres.

There

is

a reason for this rough plug

[20]

—

a most curious

THE SACRED BEETLE exception,

when nothing else has escaped

of the insect's leg.

and,

The end

of the egg rests against

the stopper were pressed

if

the infant grub might suffer.

hole without

ramming down

heavy blows

the

down and driven

it,

in,

So the Beetle stops the

the stopper.

Ill

THE GROWING-UP OF THE SCARAB About a week the grub

house.

is

or ten days after the laying of the egg,

hatched, and without delay begins to eat a grub of remarkable wisdom, for

It is

starts its

meal with the

so avoids

making a hole through which

of the pear altogether. it

is

hold

it

its

up

back,

It

If the early

it

might

so transparent that if

you can

When Is

first

it

state, the sober

sheds

its

it

plump

to contain,

skin the insect that appears

features can be recognised.

the Scarab's

all

There are few

beautiful as this delicate creature with it like

this

beauty of the Scarab!

not a full-grown Scarab, though

Iving in front of

you

see its internal organs.

Egyptian had chanced upon

an undeveloped

out

an enormous

at best, with

white grub he would never have suspected in

fall

and

soon becomes fat; and indeed

and a skin

to the light

always

thickest part of the walls,

an ungainly creature

hump on

it

its

its

a wide pleated scarf

[21]

insects so

wing-cases

and

its

fore-

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

Half transparent and

legs folded under

its

yellow as honey,

looks as though

it

and then

it

colouring

Its

too casts

now

its

ebony

finally appears black as

grows harder,

and

is

till

it

is

remains

in

this

skin.

does the Sacred Beetle change

also

it

red-and-white,

is

as

were carved from

it

For four weeks

a block of amber. state,

head.

times

garments before

its

As

I

—so many

it

grows blacker

it

it

covered with horny armour

a full-grown Beetle.

All this time he

Great

nest.

and come

is

underground,

is

in the

pear-shaped

his longing to burst the shell of his prison

Whether he succeeds

into the sunshine.

in

doing so depends on circumstances. It

is

generally August

and August the year.

as a rule

is

If therefore

the cell to be burst

when he

the driest

no rain

hardness.

The

I

in the kiln of

it

broken defy the

helpless against all that

become an

summer.

have, of course,

made experiments on I

grating sound

insects that

lay the hard, dry shells in

a box where they remain dry; sharp,

to be

has turned into a sort of brick,

are ready to be released.

a

and hottest month of

soft material of the nest has

impassable rampart;

baked

is

ready for release,

falls to soften the earth,

and the wall

strength of the insect, which

is

and sooner

inside

each

or later

cell.

It

I is

hear the

prisoner scraping the wall with the rakes on his fore-

[22]

THE SACRED BEETLE head and

Two

his fore-feet.

no progress seems

to

my

and

have been made.

I try to help a couple of

with

or three days pass,

them by opening a loophole

knife; but these favoured ones

make no more

progress than the others.

In

than a fortnight silence reigns in

less

The prisoners, worn out with their Then I take some other shells, wrap them

When

wet

in a

rag,

efforts,

as

and put them

of the wrapper, but keep them in the

wet the

shells are burst

self boldly

scrapes

a complete

is

on

his legs,

first,

them

I rid

This time

flask.

prisoner,

them

Softened by the

who props him-

using his back as a lever, or else

away at one point till

In every case the Beetle

all died.

in a corked flask.

success.

by the

have

hard as the

the moisture has soaked through

the experiment

all the shells.

is

the walls crumble to pieces.

released.

In natural conditions, when the shells remain underground, the same thing occurs.

by the August sun

away

his prison,

it is

which

When

the soil

is

hard as a brick.

the insect struggles with his legs

:

his back,

At

and

first

above

burnt

impossible for the insect to wear

But when

a shower comes the shell recovers the softness of

days

is

its

early

and pushes with

so becomes free.

he shows no interest in food.

all is the

joy of the light.

He

What sets

he wants

himself in

the sun, and there, motionless, basks in the warmth.

[23]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

Presently, however, he wishes to eat.

With no one

to teach him, he sets to work, exactly like his elders, to

make himself

a ball of food.

with provisions.

He

digs his burrow

Without ever learning

stores

it

knows

his trade to perfection.

[24]

and

it,

he

CHAPTER

III

THE CICADA

THE CICADA AND THE ANT

TO

most of US the Cicada's song

is

unknown,

for he lives in the land of the olive-trees.

But every one who has read La Fontaine's "Fables" has heard of the snub the Cicada received from the Ant, though

La Fontaine was not

the

first

to tell

the tale.

The

Cicada, says the story, did nothing but sing all

through the summer, while the Ants were busy storing their provisions.

and hurried

When

winter came he was hungry,

to his neighbour to

borrow some food.

He

met with a poor welcome.

"Why

didn't you gather your food in the

summer?"

asked the prudent Ant. "I

was busy singing

all the

summer,'' said the Cicada.

"Singing, were you?" answered the

"Well, then,

now you may dance I"

back on the beggar. [25]

And

Ant unkindly. she turned her

FABRE'S

Now

BOOK OF INSECTS

the insect in this fable could not possibly be

La Fontaine,

a Cicada.

plain,

it is

was thinking of the

Grasshopper and as a matter of fact the English translations usually substitute a Grasshopper for the Cicada.

For

my

village does not contain a peasant so ignorant

as to imagine the Cicada ever exists in winter. tiller

of the soil

familiar with the grub of this insect,

is

which he turns over with

up

Every

spade whenever he banks

his

the olive-trees at the approach of cold weather.

A

thousand times he has seen the grub leave the ground through a round hole of a twig, split

own

its

own making,

its

back, take off

fasten itself to

and turn into

its skin,

a Cicada.

The though tion

fable

settles

true that he

it is

from in

a slander.

is

is

tall plane-trees;

my

too,

thut

no beggar,

good deal of atten-

my

door,

amid the

and

here,

from sun-

head with the rasping of

This deafening concert,

and drumming, makes true,

is

Every summer he comes and

he tortures

his harsh music.

It

a

hundreds outside

his

greenery of two

rattling

demands

his neighbours.

rise to sunset,

The Cicada

there

all

this incessant

thought impossible.

are

sometimes dealings

between the Cicada and the Ant; but they are exactly the opposite of those described in the fable. is

never dependent on others for his living.

The Cicada At no time

does he go crying famine at the doors of the Ant-hills.

[26]

THE CICADA In July when most of the insects in my sunnv country are parched mth thirst, the Cicada remain} perfectly cheerful

THE CICADA On

the contrary,

it is

the

Ant who, driven by hunger,

begs and entreats the singer. is

not the right word.

Entreats, did I say?

It

She brazenly robs him.

In July, when most of the insects in are parched with thirst,

my sunny

country

and vainly wander round the

withered flowers in search of refreshment, the Cicada remains perfectly cheerful. With his rostrum— the delicate sucker, sharp as a gimlet, that he carries

—he broaches a cask

'

on

in his inexhaustible cellar.

his chest

Sitting,

always singing, on the branch of a shrub, lie bores through the firm, smooth bark, which is swollen with sap. Driving his sucker through the bunghole, he drinks his

watch him for a

If I

him

little

unexpected trouble.

in

insects in the neighbourhood,

that oozes first

from the Cicada's

I see

above

all,

The

Wasps,

Flies,

well.

They hasten it

up, at

comes

Earwigs, Rose-chafers, and

Ants.

smallest, in order to reach the well, slip under

the body of the Cicada, self

may perhaps see There are many thirsty who soon discover the sap while I

quietly and discreetly, to lick the fluid as

out.

fill.

on

his legs to let

snatch a

sip,

who good-naturedly them

retreat, take a

pass.

The

raises

him-

larger insects

walk on a neighbouring

branch, and then return more eager and enterprising

They now become violent chase the Cicada away from his

than before.

brigands, deter-

mined

well.

to

[27]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S The worst

offenders are the Ants.

I

have seen them

nibbling at the ends of the Cicada's legs, tugging at the tips of his wings,

bold robber, before cada's sucker

At

and

and climbing on

my

tried to pull

she

dries

is

it is

there, she

a

out.

all patience,

the singer deserts

now

has

attained her

left in possession of the spring.

is

up very soon,

sap that

it

The Ant

the well he has made. object:

Once

very eyes, caught hold of a Ci-

worried beyond

last,

his back.

true; but, having

drunk

can wait for another drink

This all the till

she

has a chance of stealing another well.

So you see that the actual facts are just the reverse of those in the fable. the industrious worker

The Ant is

is

the hardened beggar:

the Cicada.

II

THE CICADA I

am

in

S

BURROW

an excellent position to study the habits of the

Cicada, for

I live in his

company.

When

takes possession of the enclosures right

of the house.

I

up

July comes he

to the threshold

remain master indoors, but out of doors

he reigns supreme, and his reign

is

by no means a peace-

ful one.

The

first

Cicada appear

trodden, sun-baked paths

at I

midsummer. see, level

[28]

In the much-

with the ground,

THE CICADA round holes about the

size of a

Through

come up from the under-

these holes the Cicada-grubs

ground

man's thumb.

to be transformed into full-grown Cicadse

on the

Their favourite places are the driest and

surface.

sunniest; for these grubs are provided with such powerful tools that they

can bore through baked earth or sandstone.

When I examine my pickaxe. The

first

their deserted

thing one notices

measure nearly an inch

round them. outside.

beetles

Most of for

burrows.

There

that the holes, which

have absolutely no rubbish

make

a

mole-hill

reason for this difference

mouth of the hole,

The Dorbeetle so he can

material he digs out:

from below.

The

have to use

the digging insects, such as the Dor-

manner of working. the

I

no mound of earth thrown up

is

instance,

The

across,

is

burrows

above lies

their

in their

begins his work at

heap up on the surface the

but the Cicada-grub comes up

last thing

he does

is

to

make

the door-

way, and he cannot heap rubbish on a threshold that does not yet

The

exist.

Cicada's tunnel runs to a depth of fifteen or six-

teen inches.

It is quite

open the whole way.

in a rather wider space, but

is

It

ends

completely closed at the

What has become of the earth removed to make tunnel? And why do not the walls crumble? One

bottom. this

would expect that

the grub, climbing

[29]

up and down with

FABRE'S clawed

his his

own

BOOK OF INSECTS

would make landslips and block up

legs,

house.

Well, he behaves

The miner

like a

up

holds

miner or a railway-engineer.

his galleries with pit-props; the

builder of railways strengthens his tunnel with a casing

of brickwork; the Cicada

is

and covers the walls of

his tunnel

as clever as either of them,

carries a store of sticky fluid

which to make

this plaster.

hidden within him, with

His burrow

is

always built

above some tiny rootlet containing sap, and from he renews his supply of It

is

down

this root

fluid.

very important for him to be able to run up and

his

him

for

He

with cement.

burrow at to find his

know what

his ease, because,

way

the weather

is

when

the time

into the sunshine, he like outside.

for weeks, perhaps for months, to

comes

wants to

So he works away

make

a funnel with

good strong plastered walls, on which he can clamber.

At

the top he leaves a layer as thick as one's finger, to

protect

him from

the outer air

till

the last

moment.

the least hint of fine weather he scrambles

through the thin

At

up, and,

lid at the top, inquires into the state of

the weather. If he suspects a

storm or rain on the surface

great importance to a delicate grub skin

!

— he

funnel.

slips

But

when he

—matter of

takes off his

prudently back to the bottom of

if

the weather seems

[30]

warm

his

snug

he smashes his

a

THE CICADA ceiling with a

few strokes of

and climbs

to

by the Cicada-grub

in

his claws,

the surface. It is the fluid substance carried

his swollen

body that enables him to get rid of the rubbish

As he digs he sprinkles

in his burrow.

and turns

it

is

walls then become soft and

The mud squeezes into

yielding. soil,

The

into paste.

and the grub compresses

it

the chinks of the rough

with his fat body.

why, when he appears at the top, he

with wet

the dusty earth

is

This

always covered

stains.

For some time after the Cicada-grub's

first

appearance

above-ground he wanders about the neighbourhood, looking for a suitable spot in which to cast

off his skin

—

tiny bush, a tuft of thyme, a blade of grass, or the twig of

a shrub. it

When

he finds

it

he climbs up, and clings to

firmly with the claws of his fore-feet.

stiffen into

Then

an immovable

fore-legs

grip.

his outer skin begins to split

of the back,

His

along the middle

showing the pale-green Cicada within.

Presently the head

is

free ; then the sucker

and front

legs

appear, and finally the hind-legs and the rumpled wings.

The whole

insect

is

free

now, except the extreme

tip of

his body.

He next performs a wonderful gymnastic feat. in the air as he

is,

High

fixed to his old skin at one point

[31]

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS is

hanging

His crumpled wings straighten

out, un-

only, he turns himself over

downwards. furl,

till

Then with an almost

and spread themselves.

visible

head

his

in-

movement he draws himself up again by

sheer

empty

skin.

strength,

and hooks

his fore-legs

on to

This movement has released the tip of

The whole

sheath.

his

his

body from

its

operation has taken about half an

hour.

For a time the freed Cicada does not

He

must bathe

in air

and sunshine before strength and

Hanging

colour come to his frail body.

by

his fore-claws only,

air, still

feeble

tinge appears,

and and

to his cast skin

he sways at the least breath of

still is

feel very strong.

green.

But

soon general.

at last the

Supposing him

have taken possession of the twig at nine o'clock morning, the Cicada

flies

away

ing his cast skin behind him.

brown to

in the

at half-past twelve, leav-

Sometimes

it

hangs from

the twigs for months.

Ill

THE The sake.

Cicada,

it

cicada's music

appears, loves singing for

Not content with

its

own

carrying an instrument called

the cymbal in a cavity behind his wings, he increases its

power by means of sounding-boards under [32]

his chest.

THE CICADA Indeed, there

is

one kind of Cicada who

sacrifices a great

deal in order to give full play to his musical tastes. carries such

He

an enormous sounding-board that there

is

hardly any room left for his vital organs, which are squeezed into a tiny corner. Assuredly one must be passionately devoted to music thus to clear away one's internal organs in order to

make room

for a musical

Unfortunately the song he loves so much unattractive to others. object.

Nor have

I yet

is

I

extremely

discovered

usually suggested that he

It is

is

box

its

calling his

mate; but the facts appear to contradict this idea. For fifteen years the Common Cicada has

thrust his

society

upon me.

Every summer

have these insects before ears.

I see

them ranged

my

eyes,

for

and

two months

their

song

in

I

my

in rows

on the smooth bark of the plane-trees, the maker of music and his mate sitting side by side. With their suckers driven into the tree

they drink, motionless.

As the sun turns they

round the branch with slow, sidelong hottest spot.

Whether drinking

or

also turn

steps, to find the

moving they never

cease singing.

seems unlikely, therefore, that they are calling their mates. You do not spend months on end calling It

to

some one who Indeed,

I

am

is

at your elbow.

inclined to think that the Cicada him-

[33]

FABRE'S self

cannot even hear the song he sings with so much

This might account for the relentless

apparent delight.

way

which he forces

in

He is

flies

music upon others.

his

His

has very clear sight.

happening

and

BOOK OF INSECTS

and

to right

him what

five eyes tell

to left

and above

his

head;

moment he sees any one coming he is silent and away. Yet no noise disturbs him. Place yourself

the

behind him, and then

and knock two stones

whistle, clap your hands,

talk,

would not

a bird, though he

For much

together.

see you,

The imperturbable Cicada

terrified.

less

would

than this fly

away

on rattling

gojies

as though nothing were there.

On is

one occasion

to say the

lage.

I

borrowed the

guns that are

fired

local artillery, that

on feast-days

in the vil-

There were two of them, and they were crammed

with powder as though for the most important rejoicings.

They were placed of

my

door.

We

at the foot of the plane-trees in front

were careful to leave the windows

open, to prevent the panes from breaking. in

the

branches

overhead could not see

The

Cicadae

what was

happening. Six of us waited below, eager to hear what would be the effect on the orchestra above.

Bang!

The gun went

off

with a noise

like a

thunder-

clap.

Quite unconcerned, the Cicadae continued to sing. [34]

THE CICADA Not one appeared

in the least disturbed.

no change whatever

in the quality or the quantity of

The second gun had no more

the sound.

There was

effect

than the

we must admit

that the

first.

experiment,

I think, after this

Cicada

is

hard of hearing, and like a very deaf man,

quite unconscious that he

is

making a

is

noise.

IV

THE

cicada's eggs

The Common Cicada

and a

which

may

is

sm'all

be of any size between that of a straw

The

lead-pencil.

ground,

on

She chooses, as far as possible, tiny

dry branches. stalks,

likes to lay her eggs

sprig

is

never lying on the

usually nearly upright in position, and

is al-

most always dead.

Having found

a twig to suit her, she makes a row of

—such

pricks with the sharp instrument on her chest

pricks as might be

downwards on a

made with

a pin

if it

slant, so as to tear the fibres

them

slightly upwards.

make

thirty or forty of these pricks on the

In the tiny eggs.

The

cells

If she

is

and

force

undisturbed she will

same twig.

formed by these pricks she lays her

cells are

down towards

were driven

narrow passages, each one slanting

the one below

it.

[35]

I

generally find about

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS ten eggs in each cell, so

it is

plain that the Cicada lays

between three and four hundred eggs altogether. This

The numbers

a fine family for one insect.

is

point to some special danger that threatens the Cicada,

and makes grubs

lest

vations

I

it

necessary to produce a great quantity of

some should be destroyed. have discovered what

After

this

many

danger

obserIt

is.

an extremely tiny Gnat, compared with which Cicada

is

the

a monster.

This Gnat, is

is

like the Cicada, carries a boring-tool.

It

planted beneath her body, near the middle, and sticks

out at right angles. the

Gnat

fast as the Cicada lays her eggs

destroy them.

tries to

the Cicada family.

brazen audacity

As

It is

in the

It is

amazing

to

watch her calm and

presence of the giant

crush her by simply stepping on her.

many

as three preparing to despoil

at the

same time, standing

The Cicada climbing a

a real scourge to

I

who could

have seen as

one unhappy Cicada

close behind one another.

has just stocked a cell with eggs, and

little

higher to

make another

One

cell.

the brigands runs to the spot she has just left;

and

is

of

here,

almost under the claws of the monster, as calmly and fearlessly as though she were at home, the

Gnat

a second hole above the Cicada's eggs, and places

them an egg of her own.

away most of

By

bores

among

the time the Cicada

flies

her cells have, in this way, received a

[36]

THE CICADA A

stranger's egg, which will be the ruin of hers.

quick-hatching grub, one only to each

cell,

small

handsomely-

fed on a dozen raw eggs, will take the place of the Cicada's family.

This deplorable mother has learnt nothing from

Her

centuries of experience.

cannot

and excellent eyes

large

fail to see the terrible felons fluttering

She must know they are at her

unmoved, and

lets herself

heels,

her.

and yet she remains

be victimised.

wicked atoms, but she

easily crush the

round

She could incapable of

is

altering her instincts, even to save her family

from

destruction.

Through

my

magnifying-glass

ing of the Cicada's eggs. it

I

When

have seen the hatch-

the grub

first

has a marked likeness to an extremely small

and a curious

large black eyes, its

sort of

appears

with

fish,

mock

fin

under

body, formed of the two fore-legs joined together.

This

fin

has some power of movement, and helps the

grub to work

more it is

difficult

its

way

matter

out of the

shell,

—out of the

and

also

—

a

fibrous stem in

much which

imprisoned.

As soon of the cell

as this fish-like object has it

sheds

itself into a thread,

its skin.

it

But the

its

way out

cast skin forms

by which the grub remains fastened

to the twig or stem.

ground,

made

Here, before dropping to the

treats itself to a sun-bath, kicking about

[37]

and

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S trying

its

strength, or swinging lazily at the

end of

its

rope.

antennae

Its

work

now

and wave about;

are free,

open and shut

their joints; those in front

claws.

I

know hardly any more

for

its

its

body, swinging at

and making ready

in the air

somersault into the world.

Sooner or

without losing much time,

later,

to the ground.

The

Flea, has saved

its

by swinging on air,

their

curious sight than this

tiny acrobat hanging by the tip of the least breath of wind,

legs

its

its

little creature,

it

drops

no bigger than a

tender body from the rough earth It has

cord.

that luxurious eiderdown.

hardened

It

itself in the

now plunges

into the

stern realities of life. I

see a thousand dangers

breath of wind could blow

it

ahead of

The merest

it.

on to the hard rock, or into

the stagnant w^ater in some deep cart-rut, or on the

sand where nothing grows, or else on a clay tough for

The

it

feeble creature needs shelter at once,

and delays are

fatal to

in search of soft soil,

they find

When

too

to dig in.

look for an underground refuge. cold,

soil,

it.

The days It

and must

are

growing

must wander about

and no doubt many die before

it.

at last

it

discovers the right spot

earth with the hooks on

its

fore-feet.

[38]

it

attacks the

Through

the

mag-

THE aCADA nifying-glass I watch

it

wielding

its

an atom of earth to the surface.

and raking

In a few minutes a

The

well has been scooped out.

pickaxes,

creature goes

little

down into it, buries itself, and is henceforth invisible. The underground life of the undeveloped Cicada remains a secret. But we know how long it remains in the earth before

comes to the surface and becomes

it

For four years

a full-grown Cicada. soil.

Then

for about five

weeks

Four years of hard work of delight in the sun

must not blame him

it

it

lives

sings in the sunshine.

in the darkness,

—such

is

is

I

life.

We

for the noisy triumph of his song. his feet,

and

dressed in exquisite raiment, pro-

vided with wings that rival the heat and light

and a month

the Cicada's

For four years he has dug the earth with then suddenly he

below the

What

bird's,

and bathed

in

cymbals can be loud enough

to celebrate his happiness, so hardly earned,

very, very short?

[39]

and so

CHAPTER

IV

THE PRAYING MANTIS

HER HUNTING

THERE

is

an insect of the south that

much

less

Had

it

interesting as the Cicada, but

because

it

makes no

vided with cymbals,

its

noise.

is

quite as

famous,

been pro-

renown would have been greater

than the celebrated musician's, for

it

is

most unusual

both in shape and habits.

A

long time ago, in the days of ancient Greece, this

insect

was named Mantis, or the Prophet.

saw her on the sun-scorched in a

grass,

standing half-erect

very imposing and majestic manner, with her broad

green gossamer wings trailing like long fore-legs, like arms, raised to the sky as

To

The peasant

veils,

though

and her

in prayer.

the peasant's ignorance the insect seemed like a

priestess or a nun,

and

so she

came

to be called the

Praying Mantis.

There was never a greater mistake! airs are a

fraud; those arms raised

in

Those pious

prayer are really

the most horrible weapons, which slay whatever passes

[40]

THE PRAYING MANTIS within reach.

an ogress.

There

is

The Mantis

is

fierce as a tigress, cruel as

She feeds only on living creatures. nothing in her appearance to inspire

dread. not without a certain beauty, with her slender, graceful figure, her pale-green colouring, and her long gauze wings. Having a flexible neck, she can

She

is

move

head freely in

all directions.

She

is

her

the only insect that

can direct her gaze wherever she will.

She almost has

a face.

Great

is

body and

the contrast between this peaceful-looking the murderous machinery of the fore-legs.

The haunch IS

is

very long and powerful, while the thigh

even longer, and

carries

on

its

lower surface two rows

of sharp spikes or teeth. spurs.

In short,

Behind these teeth are three the thigh is a saw with two blades,

between which the leg lies when folded back. This leg itself is also a double-edged saw,

provided with a greater number of teeth than the thigh. It ends in a strong hook with a point as sharp as a needle, and a double blade like a curved pruning-knife. I have many painful memories of this hook. Many a time, when Mantis-hunting, I have been clawed by the insect

and forced

to ask

somebody

sect in this part of the

world

The Mantis claws you with w^ith her spikes, seizes

else to release is

me.

No

in-

so troublesome to handle.

her pruning-hooks, pricks you

you in her [41]

vice,

and makes

self-

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S defence impossible

When

if

you wish

the trap

at rest,

to

is

folded back against the

and looks quite harmless.

chest

But

insect praying.

ance of prayer

keep your captive alive.

There you have the

a victim passes by, the appear-

if

The

quickly dropped.

is

three

divisions of the trap are suddenly unfolded,

prey

long

and the

caught with the sharp hook at the end of them,

is

and drawn back between the two saws. and

closes,

all

Locusts,

over.

is

Then

the vice

Grasshoppers, and

even stronger insects are helpless against the four rows of teeth. It is

impossible to

make

of the Mantis in the open

her indoors.

She can

a complete study of the habits fields, so I

live quite

am

obliged to take

happily in a pan

with sand and covered with a gauze dish-cover, she be supplied with plently of fresh food. find out

what can be done by

of the Mantis,

I

the strength

if

filled

only

In order to

and daring

provide her not only with Locusts and

Grasshoppers, but also with the largest Spiders of the

This

neighbourhood.

A

is

what

I see.

grey Locust, heedless of danger, walks towards the

The

Mantis.

latter gives a convulsive shiver,

and sud-

denly, in the most surprising way, strikes an attitude that

fills

the Locust with terror,

startle

any one.

sort of

bogy-man

You

and

is

quite enough to

see before you unexpectedly a

or Jack-in-the-box.

[42]

The wing-covers

THE PRAYING MANTIS A

long time ago, in the days of ancient Greece, this insect zvas named Mantis, or the Prophet

'.Xi'O

Vi^rKt

't\\\\

.'ni'

Ml ^0^,0 'jiHit vjwoi

^.

^

THE PRAYING MANTIS open; the wings spread to their full extent and stand erect like sails, towering over the insect's back; the tip

up

of the body curls short jerks,

like a crook, rising

and making a sound

like the puffing of a

Planted defiantly on

startled Adder.

the Mantis holds the front part of right.

The murderous

and falling with

its

its

four hind-legs,

body almost up-

open wide, and show a pat-

legs

tern of black-and-white spots beneath them.

In this strange attitude the Mantis stands motionless,

with eyes fixed on her prey.

Mantis turns her head. is

plain.

It is

The Mantis

The plan

whom

object of this performance

with fright before attacking

it

pretending to be a ghost

is

quite successful.

is

and gazes

spectre before him, to

The

intended to strike terror into the heart

of the victim, to paralyse it.

If the Locust moves, the

leaping

He stays stupidly

is

so easy

where he

at

I

The Locust

sees

without moving.

it

makes no attempt

a

He

at escape.

or even draws nearer with

is,

a leisurely step.

As soon

as he

is

within reach of the Mantis she strikes

with her claws; her double saws close and clutch; the poor wretch protests in vain

;

the cruel ogress begins her

meal.

The

pretty Crab Spider stabs her victim in the neck,

in order to poison

way

it

and make

it

helpless.

the Mantis attacks the Locust

[43]

first

In the same

at the

back of the

FABRE'S neck, to destroy

its

BOOK OF INSECTS

power of movement.

TWis enables

her to kill and eat an insect as big as herself, or even bigger.

It

tain so

much

The

is

amazing that the greedy creature can con-

food.

various Digger-wasps

the

For a long time she waits

and on her guard:

one

caught.

ment

With

terrifies the

in

Wasp

is

of the double saw

I

Wasp

still,

now and

is

sus-

then a rash

sudden rustle of wings the

a

Then, with the sharpness of a

fixed as in a trap

—

between the blades

the toothed fore-arm

The

upper-arm of the Mantis. in small

bringing home.

new-comer, who hesitates for a mo-

her fright.

spring, the

is

in vain; for the

picious

Mantis

from her

chance to bring near her a double prize,

Hunting-wasp and the prey she

is

visits

Posted near the burrows on a bram-

pretty frequently. ble, she waits for

receive

victim

is

and toothed then

gnawed

mouthfuls.

once saw a Bee-eating Wasp, while carrying a Bee

to her storehouse, attacked

The Wasp was found

and caught by a Mantis.

in the act of eating the

in the Bee's crop.

honey she had

The double saw

closed suddenly on the feasting

Wasp; but

of the Mantis neither terror

nor torture could persuade that greedy creature to leave off eating.

Even while

devoured she continued I regret to

she

was

herself being actually

to lick the

honey from her Bee

I

say that the meals of this savage ogress

[44]

THE PRAYING MANTIS For

are not confined to other kinds of insects.

sanctimonious airs she sister as

her

She will eat her

a cannibal.

calmly as though she were a Grasshopper; and

those around her will to do the

is

all

make no

protest, being quite ready

same on the first opportunity.

Indeed, she even

makes a habit of devouring her mate, whom she by the neck and then swallows by

little

seizes

mouthf uls,

leav-

ing only the wings.

She

is

worse than the Wolf; for

Wolves never eat each

it is

said that even

other.

II

HER NEST After like

all,

however, the Mantis has her good points,

She makes a most marvellous

most people.

This nest

is

sunny places: or dry grass,

to be

on

found more or stones,

wood,

everywhere in

less

vine-stocks,

and even on such things

twigs,

as bits of brick,

strips of linen, or the shrivelled leather of

Any

nest.

support will serve, as long as there

an old boot.

is

an uneven

surface to form a solid foundation.

In size the nest

and

less

is

between one and two inches long,

than an inch wide; and

as a grain of wheat.

It is

made

its

colour

as

golden

of a frothy substance,

which has become solid and hard, and [45]

is

it

smells like silk

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS when

it

is

Tlie shape of

burnt.

the support on which

surface

is

it is

based, but in all cases the upper

One can

convex.

distinguish three bands,

or zones, of which the middle one or scales, arranged in pairs

forming two rows of

is

made

of little plates

and over-lapping

The edges

of a roof.

tiles

varies according to

it

like the

of these plates are free,

slits or little

doorways, through

which the young Mantis escapes at the moment of hatchIn every other part the wall of the nest

ing.

is

impene-

trable.

The eggs

are arranged in layers, with the ends con-

Of

taining the heads pointed towards the doorways. these doorways, as I have just said, there are

One

half of the grubs will go out through the right door,

and the other half through the It is

this

left.

a remarkable fact that the mother Mantis builds

cleverly-made nest while she

From

eggs.

is

actually laying her

her body she produces a sticky substance,

rather like the Caterpillar's silk-fluid;

and

this material

she mixes with the air and whips into froth. it

foam with two

into

foam

is

it first

She beats

ladles that she has at the tip of her

beat white of egg with a fork.

The

greyish-white, almost like soapsuds, and

when

body, just as

it

two rows.

we

appears

it

is

sticky; but

two minutes afterwards

has solidified. In this sea of

foam the Mantis deposits her [46]

eggs.

As

THE PRAYING MANTIS each layer of eggs

is

laid, it is

covered with froth, which

quickly becomes solid.

In a

new

nest the belt of exit-doors

is

coated with

a material that seems different from the rest

—a

layer

of fine porous matter, of a pure, dull, almost chalky white, which contrasts with the dirty white of the remain-

der of the nest.

make

to

ornament

like the

mixture that confectioners

their cakes.

This snowy covering

very easily crumbled and removed.

the exit-belt plates.

is

clearly visible, with

The wind and

strips or flakes,

of

is

of whipped white of egg, sugar, and starch, with

which is

It

When its

nests

gone

two rows of

rain sooner or later

and therefore the old

it is

remove

show no

it

in

traces

it.

But

these

two materials, though they appear

are really only

different,

two forms of the same matter.

The

Mantis with her ladles sweeps the surface of the foam,

skimming the top of the

band along the back of like sugar-icing

is

froth,

the nest.

and

collecting

The

it

into a

ribbon that looks

merely the thinnest and lightest por-

tion of the sticky spray, which appears whiter than the

nest because

more

its

bubbles are more delicate, and reflect

light.

It is truly

a wonderful piece of machinery that can,

so methodically

and

swiftly, produce the horny central

substance on which the

first

eggs are laid, the eggs them-

[47]

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS selves, the protecting froth, the soft sugar-like covering

of the doorways, and at the same time can build over-

lapping plates, and the narrow passages leading

Yet

the Mantis, while she

tionless

on the foundation of the

a glance at the building that legs act

doing

is

no part

is

in the affair.

all this,

t?o

them

I

hangs mo-

She gives not

nest.

rising behind her.

Her

The machinery works by

itself.

As soon draws.

I

tender

as she has

done her work the mother with-

expected to see her return and show some

feeling for

the

but

cradle of her family,

it

evidently has no further interest for her.

The Mantis,

I fear,

has no heart.

She eats her hus-

band, and deserts her children.

Ill

THE HATCHING OF HER EGGS The eggs

of the Mantis usually hatch in bright sun-

shine, at about ten o'clock

As

I

have already told you, there

the nest

the

on a mid-June morning. is

only one part of

from which the grub can find an

band of

scales

round the middle.

outlet,

namely

From under each

of these scales one sees slowly appearing a blunt, trans-

parent lump, followed by two large black specks, which are the creature's eyes.

The baby grub [48]

slips

gently

THE PRAYING MANTIS under the thin plate and half releases

It

itself.

Under

reddish yellow, and has a thick, swollen head. its

outer skin

it is

is

quite easy to distinguish the large

black eyes, the mouth flattened against the chest, the legs plastered to the

body from front

With

to back.

the exception of these legs the whole thing reminds one

somewhat of the

first

state of the Cicada

on leaving the

egg.

Like the Cicada, the young Mantis finds to

wear an overall when

and

necessary

coming into the world,

it is

for the sake of convenience

it

It has to

safety.

emerge

from the depths of the nest through narrow, winding ways, in which full-spread slender limbs could not find

The

enough room.

tall stilts, the

the delicate antennae,

indeed make

it

murderous harpoons,

would hinder

impossible.

The

its

passage,

creature

and

therefore

appears in swaddling-clothes, and has the shape of a boat.

When nest

its

the grub peeps out under the thin scales of

head becomes bigger and bigger,

a throbbing blister.

The

little

pushes forward an-d draws back, in self,

and

at each

movement

till it

creature

its

looks like

alternately

its efforts

to free

the head grows larger.

it-

At

upper part of the

chest,

and the grub wriggles and tugs and bends about,

deter-

last the outer skin bursts at the

mined

to

throw

off its overall.

[49]

Finallv the legs and the

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS long antenna? are freed, and a few shakes complete the operation. It is a striking sight to see a

coming from the nest creature

show

its

at once.

hundred young Mantes

Hardly does one tiny

black eyes under a scale before a

of others appears.

It is as

swarm

though a signal passed from

one to the other, so swiftly does the hatching spread.

moment the middle zone of the nest is covered with grubs, who run about feverishly, stripping themselves of their torn garments. Then they drop off, Almost

a

in

or clamber into the nearest foliage.

swarm

a fresh

appears, and so on

A

till

few days

later

all the

eggs are

mto

a world

hatched.

But

the poor grubs are hatched

alas!

of dangers.

I

have seen them hatching many times, both

out of doors in

my

greenhouse, where protect them. the scene,

has

enclosure, I

hoped

Twenty

I

and

in the seclusion of

a

should be better able to

times at least

have watched

I

and every time the slaughter of the grubs

been

terrible.

The

Mantis

lays

many

eggs,

but she will never lay enough to cope with the hungry

murderers

The I

find

who

lie in

Ants, above

them

interfere;

visiting

wait until the grubs appear. all,

my

are their enemies. nests.

It is in

in entering the nest; its

[50]

me to me. They

vain for

they always get the better of

seldom succeed

Every day

hard walls form

THE PRAYING MANTIS But they wait outside

too strong a fortress.

for their

prey.

The moment

young grubs appear they

that the

are

grabed by the Ants, pulled out of their sheaths, and cut

You

in pieces.

creatures

see piteous struggles between the little

who can only

the ferocious brigands

a

moment

protest with wild wrigglings

who

the massacre

flourishing family

is

are carrying

them

over; all that

is

is

off.

and In

left of the

a few scattered survivors who have

escaped by accident. It is curious that the

race,

should be herself so often devoured at this early

stage of her

Ant.

But

Mantis, the scourge of the insect

The

by one of the

life,

least of that race, the

ogress sees her family eaten

does not continue long.

this

by the dwarf.

So soon as she has

become firm and strong from contact with the

Mantis can hold her own. the Ants,

who

tackle her

:

fall

She

trots

about briskly among

back as she passes, no longer daring to

with her fore-legs brought close to her chest,

like

arms ready for self-defence, she already

into

them by her proud bearing.

But the Mantis has another enemy who dismayed.

air the

The

little

Grey Lizard,

is

strikes

awe

less easily

the lover of

walls, pays small heed to threatening attitudes.

sunny

With

the tip of his slender tongue he picks up, one by one, the few

stra"*'

insects that

have escaped the Ant. [51]

They

:

FABRE'S make but

BOOK OF INSECTS

a small mouthful,

but to judge from the

Every time

Lizard's expression they taste very good.

down one

he gulps

of the

his eyelids, a sign of

creatures he half-closes

little

profound

satisfaction.

•Moreover, even before the hatching the eggs are in

who

danger.

There

carries a

probe sharp enough to penetrate the nest of

solidified

foam.

is

a tiny insect called the Chalcis,

So the brood of the Mantis shares the

fate of the Cicada's. in the nest,

and

The eggs

are hatched before those of the rightful

The owner's eggs The Mantis lays,

owner. vaders.

of a stranger are laid

are then eaten by the in-

perhaps, a thousand eggs.

Possibly only one couple of these escapes destruction.

The Mantis eats

the Locust

the

:

And

Ant

eats the

the

Wryneck

eats the Ant.

the

Wryneck

has grown fat from eating

eat the

in the

Mantis

autumn, when

many

.\nts, I

Wryneck.

may

well be that the Mantis, the Locust, the .\nt,

and even

lesser creatures contribute to the strength of the

It

human all

brain.

In strange and unseen ways they have

supplied a drop of

oil to

feed the lamp of thought.

Their energies, slowly developed, stored up, and handed

on to

us, pass into

our veins and sustain our weakness.

We live by their death. Everything

The world

is

an endless

finishes so that everything

may

may

live.

everything dies so that everything Is--]

circle.

begin again;

THE PRAYING MANTIS In

many

ages the Mantis has been regarded with super-

In Provence

stitious awe.

remedy it,

out of

it.

charm.

I

The peasants

Further, toothache.

it is

felt

declare that

any

As long

a cupboard, or sew

when

relief

you have

as

it

from

it

works

like

a

myself.

it

it

on you, you need

Our housewives gather

a favourable moon; they keep

it

held to be the best

highly praised as a wonderful cure for

never fear that trouble.

borrow

is

with the juice that streams

afflicted part

have never

nest

You cut the thing in two, squeeze

for chilblains.

and rub the

its

it

it

under

carefully in the corner of

The neighbours They call it a tigno.

into their pocket.

tortured by a tooth.

"Lend me your tigno

I

',

am in

agony," says the sufferer

with the swollen face.

The

other hastens to unstitch

and hand over the

precious thing.

"Don't

lose

to her friend,

it,

whatever you do," she says earnestly

"It's the

only one I have, and this

isn't

the right time of moon."

This simplicity of our peasants English physician and sixteenth century. child lost his

Mantis

to

way

He

man tells

is

of science

who

lived in the

us that, in those days,

in the country,

put him on

surpassed by an

his road.

right

way and seldome [53]

a

he would ask the

"The Mantis," adds

the author, "will stretch out one of her feet

him the

if

and shew

or never misse."

CHAPTER V THE GLOW-WORM

HIS SURGICAL

FEW

insects enjoy

worm, the curious

INSTRUMENT more fame than little

animal who celebrates

the joy of life by lighting a lantern at

We all know

end.

not seen

it

from the

it,

by name, even

at least

roaming through the

full

Bright-tailed,

and modern

if

its tail-

we have

grass, like a spark fallen

The Greeks

moon.

Glow-

the

of old called

science gives

it

the

the

name

worm

at all,

it

Lampyris.

As

a matter of fact the Lampyris

not even

in

general appearance.

which he well knows how to about.

The

male,

use,

when he

is

cases, like the true Beetle that he

unattractive creature of flying

and

all

complete form. is

out of place.

is

He

not a

has six short legs,

for he

is

a real gad-

full-grown has wingis.

The female

who knows nothing

is

an

of the delights

her life remains in the larva, or in-

Even

We

at this stage the

word "worm"

French use the phrase "naked as [54]

THE GLOW-WORM worm"

a

Now

to express the lack of

the Lampyris

is

any kind of protection.

clothed, that

is

to say

outer skin that serves as a defence; and he rather richly coloured.

He

is

he wears an

is,

moreover,

dark brown, with pale

pmk

on the chest; and each segment, or division, of his body is ornamented at the edge with two spots of fairly

A

bright red.

worm

costume like

this

was never worn by a

I

Nevertheless

worm, since

we

it is

will continue to call

bv that name that he

is

him the Glowbest

known

to

the world.

The two most interesting peculiarities about the Glow-worm are, first, the way he secures his food, and secondly, the lantern at his

A

tail.

famous Frenchman, a master of the science of food,

once said

:

"Show me what you

eat,

and

I will tell

you what you

are."

A similar

question should be addressed to every insect whose habits we propose to study; for the information

supplied by food

animal the

life.

is

the chief of all the documents of

Well,

in spite of his innocent appearance,

Glow-worm

and he

carries

regular prey

is

on is

an eater of his

is

a hunter of game;

hunting with rare villainy.

the Snail.

known; but what

flesh,

His

This fact has long been

not so well

[55]

known

is

his curious

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S method of

attack, of

which

I

have seen no other example

anywhere. it

an

unconscious, as a person

is

Before he begins to feed on his victim he gives anaesthetic

—he

makes

it

made unconscious with chloroform His food,

operation.

as a rule,

is

before

a surgical

a certain small Snail

hardly the size of a cherry, which collects in clusters

during the hot weather, on the

stubble and other

stiff

dry stalks by the roadside, and there remains motionless, in

profound meditation, throughout the scorching

summer seen the

days.

In some such place as this

Glow-worm

But he frequents other

damp

many

Snails are to be found;

Glow-worm can

its

shaky support.

places too.

cool,

the

have often

feasting on his unconscious prey,

which he had just paralysed on

ditches,

I

At the edge of

where the vegetation

kill his

and

in

varied,

is

such spots as these

victim on the ground.

I

can reproduce these conditions at home, and can there follow the operator's performance

down

to the smallest

detail. I will try to describe the little

strange sight.

grass in a wide glass jar.

In this

and

wait,

and above

all

place a

I install

Glow-worms and a supply of Snails of a neither too large nor too small.

I

a

few

suitable size,

One must

be patient

keep a careful watch, for the

events take place unexpectedly and do not last long.

[56]

THE GLOW-WORM For a moment the Glow-worm examines which, according to

except for

shell,

projects slightly. It

is

its habit, is

the

"mantle,"

it

cannot be seen without

two mandibles, bent

It consists of

back into a hook, very sharp and as thin as a

Through the microscope one can running down the hook.

The

And

It all

hair.

see a slender groove

that

is all.

mantle with

insect repeatedly taps the Snail's

instrument.

which

the hunter draws his weapon.

a very simple weapon, but

a magnifying-glass.

prey,

completely hidden in the

edge of the

Then

his

its

happens with such gentleness as to

As

suggest kisses rather than bites.

children, teasing

one another, we used to talk of "tweaks" to express a slight squeeze of the finger-tips,

tickling than a serious pinch.

something more like

Let us use that word.

In conversation with animals, language loses nothing by

remaining simple.

The Glow-worm

gives tweaks to

the Snail.

He

doles

them out methodically, without hurrying,

and takes a

brief rest after each of them, as though to

find out

what

effect has

been produced.

half a dozen at most, which are

of tweaks

is

enough

make the Snail motionless, and

feeling.

to

not great

:

The number

That other pinches

to rob

him of

all

are administered later, at

the time of eating, seems very likely, but I cannot say

anything for certain on that subject. [57]

The

first

few,

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS however

— there are never many— are enough

to

prevent

the Snail from feeling anything, thanks to the prompti-

tude of the Glow-worm, who, at lightning speed, darts

some kind of poison into

his victim

by means of

his

made

in-

grooved hooks.

There

no doubt at

is

sensible to pain.

If,

Snail

all that the

when

the

Glow-worm

has dealt

away

the victim

some four

or five of his twitches, I take

and prick

it

the

with a fine needle, there

wounded

Moreover,

flesh,

there

is

is

is

not a quiver in

not the smallest sign of

life.

occasionally chance to see Snails attacked

I

by the Lampyris while they are creeping along the ground, the foot slowly crawling, the tentacles swollen to

A

their full extent.

few disordered movements betray

a brief excitement on the part of the Snail, and then

everything ceases: part loses

the foot

graceful curve, the tentacles become limp

its

and give way under like a

no longer crawls, the front-

broken

stick.

own

their

The

weight, dangling feebly

Snail, to all appearance,

is

dead.

He

is

not,

life again.

however, really dead.

When

a condition that

shower-bath.

is

I

can bring him to

he has been for two or three days neither life nor death I give

In about a couple of days

so lately injured

my

He [58]

him a

prisoner,

by the Glow-worm's treachery,

stored to his usual state.

in

revives, he recovers

is

re-

move-

THE GLOW-WORM ment and

He

sensibility.

is

affected

by the touch of a

needle he shifts his place, crawls, puts out his tentacles, ;

as

though nothing unusual had occurred.

torpor, a sort of right.

The dead

Human

The

general

deep drunkenness, has vanished outreturns to

life.

science did not invent the art of

person insensible to pain, which

is

making a

one of the triumphs

Far back in the centuries the Glow-worm,

of surgery.

and apparently others

was practising

too,

The

it.

surgeon makes us breathe the fumes of ether or chloro-

form:

from

the insect darts forth

fangs very tiny

his

doses of a special poison.

When we of the Snail

consider the harmless it

and peaceful nature

seems curious that the Glow-worm should

require this remarkable talent.

But

I

think I

know

the

reason.

When

the Snail

shrunk into his difficulty.

The

is

on the ground, creeping, or even

shell,

the attack never presents any

shell possesses

no

lid

and leaves the

hermit's fore-part to a great extent exposed.

very often happens that he

is

But

it

in a raised position, cling-

ing to the tip of a grass-stalk, or perhaps to the smooth surface of a stone.

This support to which he fastens

himself serves very well as a protection;

supposing that the shell

But

if the least bit

fits

closely

it

acts as a lid,

on the stone or

stalk.

of the Snail be left uncovered the

[59]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S slender liooks of the

Glow-worm can

through the gap, and in a conscious,

Now, on

and can be eaten

the victim

his part,

is

is

very easily

would dislodge him; he would

necessary for the Snail to be

done with a touch so delicate that

worm

his stalk.

And

it

that, I think,

fall to the

left

without food.

made

instantly un-

conscious of pain, or he would escape; and

from

made un-

most feeble wriggle

slightest struggle, the

ground, and the Glow-worm would be It

is

in

in comfort.

a Snail perched on top of a stalk

The

upset.

moment

way

find their

must be

it

does not shake him is

why

the

Glow-

possesses his strange surgical instrument.

n HIS ROSETTE

The Glow-worm not only makes while he

is

he eats him

his victim insensible

poised on the side of a dry grass-stalk, but in the

Same dangerous

position.

And

his

preparations for his meal are by no means simple.

What

is

his

really eat, that

manner of consuming is

it?

to say, does he divide his food into

pieces, does he carve

it

into

minute

particles,

afterwards ground by a chewing-apparatus? not.

I

Does he

which are I

think

never see a trace of solid nourishment on [60]

my

THE GLOW-WORM captives' mouths.

The Glow-worm

strict sense of the

word; he merely drinks.

does not eat in the

on a thin gruel, into which he transforms

He

feeds

Like

his prey.

the flesh-eating grub of the Fly, he can digest his food before he swallows it; he turns his prey into liquid

before feeding on

This

how

is

insensible

it.

things happen.

by a Glow-worm, who

even when the prize

is

A

Snail has been

is

made

nearly always alone,

a large one like the

Common Snail.

Soon a number of guests hasten up^two, three, or more and, without any quarrel with the real owner, all alike

—

fall to.

A

couple of days

that the opening

is

later, if I

downwards, the contents flow out

soup from a saucepan.

By

the time the meal

only insignificant remains are

The matter is obvious. to the

turn the shell so

is

like

finished

left.

By repeated

tiny bites, similar

tweaks which we saw administered at the begin-

ning, the flesh of the Snail

is

converted into a gruel on

which the various guests nourish themselves each in his own way, each working at the broth by means of some special pepsine (or digestive fluid)

own m.outhfuls the

,

and each taking

his

The use of this method shows that Glow-worm's mouth must be very feebly armed, apart of

it.

from the two fangs which sting the patient and inject the poison. No doubt these fangs at the same time in[61]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S jcct

some other substance which turns the

liquid, in such a

solid flesh into

thorough way that every morsel

turned

is

to account.

And

this

is

done with exquisite delicacy, though some-

times in a position that

my

Snails imprisoned in to the top,

pane they

which fix

is

anything but steady.

is

The

apparatus sometimes crawl up

To

closed with a glass pane.

this

themseves with a speck of the sticky sub-

stance they carry with them; but, as they are miserly in their use of this substance, the merest shake

to loosen the shell

Now

it

is

and send

it

to the

not unusual for the

enough

is

bottom of the

Glow-worm

jar.

to hoist

himself to the top, with the help of a certain climbing-

organ that makes up for the weakness of his selects his prey,

a

slit,

nibbles

it

legs.

makes a careful inspection of a

little,

without delay, proceeds

to

makes

it

it

He

to find

and then,

insensible,

prepare the gruel which he will

go on eating for days on end.

When

he has finished his meal the shell

be absolutely empty. fixed to the glass only

And

yet this shell, which was

by the slight smear of

has not come loose, nor even shifted smallest degree.

who

Without any

its

protest from the hermit

drained dry on the very spot at which the

These small

details

stickiness,

position in the

has been gradually converted into broth,

made.

found to

is

first

it

has been

attack

was

show us how promptly the

[62]

THE GLOW-WORM anaesthetic bite takes effect,

Glow-worm

To do

and how very

skilfully the

treats his Snail.

all this,

poised high in air on a sheet of glass

Glow-worm must have some special keep him from slipping. It is plain

or a grass-stem, the

limb or organ to

that his short clumsy legs are not enough.

Through

we can

the magnifying-glass

indeed possess a special organ of

is

fleshy little tubes, or

this kind.

Beneath

a white spot.

The

composed of about a dozen

short,

his body, towards the tail, there

glass shows that this

see that he does

stumpy

is

fingers,

which are some-

times gathered into a cluster, sometimes spread into a rosette.

worm

This bunch of

little fingers

If he wishes to fix himself to a his rosette,

to which it clings

Glow-

smooth surface, and also to climb.

to stick to a

he opens

helps the

pane of glass or a stalk

and spreads

by

its

own

it

wide on the support,

natural stickiness.

by opening and shutting alternately

it

helps

him

And

to creep

along and to climb.

The

little fingers

that form this rosette are not jointed,

but are able to move in

more

all directions.

Indeed they are

like tubes than fingers, for they

cannot seize any-

thing, they can only hold

on by

their stickiness.

They

are very useful, however, for they have a third purpose, besides their powers of clinging are used as a sponge

and brush. [63]

and climbing.

At a moment of

They rest,

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS after a meal, the

Glow-worm

passes and repasses this

brush over his head and sides and his whole body, a per-

formance made possible by the This

is

flexibility of his spine.

done point by point, from one end of the body

to the other, with a scrupulous care that proves the great

interest he takes in the operation.

wonder why he should dust and fully.

At

first

one

may

polish himself so care-

But no doubt, by the time he has turned the Snail

into gruel inside the shell and has then spent several

days

in eating the result of his labours, a

up

not amiss.

is

wash and brush-

Ill

HIS If the

Glow-worm

LAMP

possessed no other talent than that

of chloroforming his prey by means of a few tweaks as gentle as kisses, he would be general.

a lantern.

But he

He

also

unknown

knows how

shines; which

is

to the

world

in

to light himself like

an excellent manner of

becoming famous.

Glow-worm

In the case of the female

apparatus occupies the

On

each of the

surface, of a

first

the lighting-

last three divisions of the

two

it

wide belt of

or segment the bright part

body.

takes the form, on the under light: is

on the third division

much

[64]

smaller,

and

consists

THE GLOW-WORM only of two spots, which shine through the back, and are visible both above and below the animal. From these belts

and spots there comes a glorious white

light, deli-

cately tinged with blue.

The male Glow-worm

carries

only the smaller of these

lamps, the two spots on the end segment, which are possessed by the entire tribe. These luminous spots

appear upon the young grub, and continue throughout life unchanged. And they are always visible both on the upper

and lower

surface, whereas the

two large

belts

peculiar to the female shine only below the body. I

have examined the shining belt under the micro-

scope.

On

the skin a sort of whitewash

is

spread, formed

of some very fine grain-like substance, which

of the light.

Close beside

it is

is

the source

a curious air-tube, with

a short wide stem leading to a kind of bushy tuft of delicate branches.

These branches spread over the sheet of shining matter, and sometimes dip into it. It is plain to

me

that the brightness

the breathing-organs of the certain substances which,

produced by

Glow-worm.

when mixed with

luminous or even burst into flame. called combustible,

is

and the

There are air,

become

Such substances are

act of their producing light

or flame by mingling with the air

is

called oxidisation.

The lamp of the Glow-worm is the result of oxidisation. The substance that looks like whitewash is the matter [65]

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS that

is

and the

oxidised,

air

is

supplied by the tube con-

But

nected with the Glow-worm's breathing-organs.

as to the nature of the shining substance, no one as yet

knows anything. \Vc are better informed as regards another question.

We

know

Glow-worm

that the

the light he carries.

He

has complete control of

can turn

it

up

or

down, or

out, as he pleases.

through the tube be increased, the

If the flow of air

light

becomes more intense:

the

if

same

air-tube, in-

fluenced by the will of the animal, stops the passage of air,

the light grows fainter or even goes out.

Excitement produces an

am

speaking

on the

last

now

effect

upon

the air-tube.

I

of the modest fairy-lamp, the spots

segment of the Glow-worm's body.

These

are suddenly and almost completely put out by any kind

When

of flurry. I

I

am

hunting for young Glow-worms

can plainly see them glimmering on the blades of grass;

but should the least false step disturb a neighbouring twig, the light goes out at once

and the

insect

becomes

invisible.

The gorgeous little,

prise.

if

at all, affected

I

fire

cage in which

worms

belts of the females, however, are very

in

by even the most violent

sur-

a gun, for instance, beside a wire-gauze I

am

rearing a menagerie of female

the open

air.

The [66]

Glow-

explosion produces no

THE GLOW-WORM result

the illumination continues, as bright

:

as before.

I take

a spray, and rain

of cold water upon the puts out

m

its

is

my

in

is

more marked.

tion

is

not

my thumb. make

tease

a brief pause I

send

This time

returns,

and the

the illumina-

do not press too hard with

if I

its

animals

cases.

Yet

little.

Nothing short of very

the insect put out

is

my

take some of the captives

I

serious reasons

would

signals altogether.

All things considered, there the

Calm

relit.

them a

much dimmed,

some

of

There are even some lamps

as bright as ever.

my fingers and

in

a slight shower

pipe into the cage.

put out, but they are soon light

most there

and then only

a puff of smoke from the pause

flock.

light; at the very

the radiance,

down Not one

and placid

is

Glow-worm himself manages

extinguishing and rekindling

it

not a doubt but that his lighting-apparatus,

at will; but there

is

circumstance over which the insect has no control. I cut off a strip of the skin, showing one of the

one If

luminous

belts,

and place

it in

a glass tube,

it

will shine

away

merrily, though not quite as brilliantly as on the living

body.

The presence

luminous skin

is

of life

is

unnecessary, because the

in direct contact with the air,

flow of oxygen through the air-tube

is

and the

therefore not re-

quired.

In aerated water the skin shines as brightly as in the free air, but the light is extinguished in water that has been deprived of

its air

by

[67]

boiling.

There could be

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS no better proof that the Glow-worm's

light

the effect

is

of oxidisation.

The

light

is

white, calm,

and

soft to the eyes,

suggests a spark dropped by the full moon.

splendour

its

it

is

very feeble.

worm

along a line of print,

easily

make out

when they this

If

A

a

in perfect darkness,

are not too long; but nothing

very narrow zone.

In spite of

we move

the letters one by one,

and

Glow-

we can

and even words visible

is

beyond

lantern of this kind soon

tires the reader's patience.

These

brilliant creatures

They

affection.

them

Then

at

know nothing

at all of family

lay their eggs anywhere, or rather strew

random, either on the earth or on a blade of grass.

they pay no further attention to them.

From

start to finish the

Glow-worm

Even

sihines.

the eggs are luminous, and so are the grubs.

At the

approach of cold weather the latter go down into the ground, but not very

with their

far.

If I dig

little stern-lights still

them up

shining.

I

them

Even below

the soil they keep their lanterns bravely alight.

[68]

find

CHAPTER

VI

A MASON-WASP I

HER CHOICE OF A

OF

BUILDING-SITE

home

in our houses, certainly the

esting, for her beautiful

manners, and her wonderful nest,

She

called the Pelopaeus.

to her quiet, peaceful

is

is

their

most

inter-

is

very

shape, her curious is

little

ways she ;

is

Wasp

a certain

known, even to

the people by whose fireside she lives.

her host

make

the various insects that like to

This

owing

is

so very retiring that

nearly always ignorant of her presence.

easy for noisy, tiresome, unpleasant persons to

themselves famous.

will try to rescue this

I

It

make

modest

creature from her obscurity.

The

PelopaBus

is

an extremely chilly mortal.

She

pitches her tent under the kindly sun that ripens the olive

and prompts the Cicada's song; and even then she

needs for her family the additional warmth to be found in our dwellings.

lonely cottage, with front of the door.

Her its

usual refuge

is

the peasant's

old fig-tree shading the well in

She chooses one exposed [69]

to all the

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S heat of summers, and place in which a

if

possible possessing a big

The

of sticks always burns.

fire

fire-

cheer-

ful blaze on winter evenings has a great influence

upon

her choice, for she knows by the blackness of the chimney that the spot

A

a likely one.

is

chimney that

well glazed by smoke gives her no confidence:

must shiver wth cold

in

people

July and August the

suddenly appears, seeking a place for her

nest.

visitor

She

is

movement

not in the least disturbed by the bustle and

they take no notice of her nor she

of the household:

now —now with her sharp corners of antennae — blackened

She examines

with her sensitive

not

in that house.

During the dog-days

of them.

is

eyes,

the

the

ceiling, the rafters, the chimney-piece, the sides of the

fireplace especially,

Having

and even the inside of the

finished her inspection

the site she

flies

aw^y, soon

mud which will form the The

and duly approved of

to return

with the pellet of

layer of the building.

spot she chooses varies greatly, and often

very curious one. to suit the is

first

The temperature

young Pelopjeus:

backs.

The smoke

so.

it is

a

of a furnace appears

at least the favourite site

the chimney, on either side of the flue,

of twenty inches or

flue.

up

to a height

This snug shelter has

gets to the nests,

its

draw-

and gives them a

glaze of brown or black like that which covers the stone-

work.

They might

easily be taken for inequalities in the

[70]

A MASON-WASP This

mortar.

is

not a serious matter, provided that the

flames do not lick against the nests. the

young Wasps

That would stew But

to death in their clay pots.

mother Wasps seems

to

understand

this:

the

only

she

places her family in chimneys that are too wide for any-

thing but smoke to reach their sides.

But It

in spite of all her caution

sometimes happens, while the

one danger remains.

Wasp

is

building, that

the approach to the half-built dwelling

is

for a time, or even for the whole day,

by a curtain of

steam or smoke.

morning

Washing-days are most

From

risky.

night the housewife keeps the huge cauldron

till

The smoke from

boiling.

barred to her

the hearth, the steam

from

the cauldron and the wash-tub, form a dense mist in front

of the fireplace. It

is

told of the

nest, he will fly

This

Wasp

is

Water-Ouzel

that, to get

through the cataract under a mill-weir.

even more daring: with her pellet of

in her teeth she crosses the cloud of

behind screen.

it,

where she becomes

An

back to his

mud

smoke and disappears

invisible, so thick is the

irregular chirring sound, the song she sings

The building The song ceases,

at her work, alone betrays her presence.

goes on mysteriously behind the cloud.

and the harmed.

Wasp

flies

back through the steam, quite un-

She will face

until the cell

is

this

built, stored

danger repeatedly

all

with food, and closed.

[71]

day,

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

Once and once only

my own fireside; and,

at

day.

I

was able

I

as

it

happened,

was

It

a few minutes the

Suddenly

I

upwn two

close

roll of the

to give a scientific lecture to

was a washing-

body was very

and

in

an audience of wool-gather-

saw a strange,

thin,

o'clock,

drum would summon me agile insect dart through

The

the steam that rose from the wash-tub. its

it

had not long been appointed to the Avignon

grammar-school.

ers.

to observe a Pelopaeus

front part of

and the back part was very plump,

and the two parts were joined together by a long thread. It

was the Pelopaus, the

had seen with observant

first I

eyes.

Being very anxious

my

dared hope.

become better acquainted with

fervently entreated the household not to

visitor, I

disturb her in

to

my absence. On my return

Things went better than she was

mason's work behind the steam. building of the

cells,

to decrease the I

Never fireplace

of

Wasp diving

raked the

I

for a

fire

honoured with such a I

so as

good two hours

through the cloud.

again, in the forty years that followed,

information

and

the nature of the provisions,

volume of smoke, and

watched the mother

carrying on her

still

Being eager to see the

young Wasps,

the evolution of the

I

visit.

was

my

All the further

have gathered was gleaned on the hearths

my neighbours. The Pelopsus,

it

appears,

is

[72]

of a solitary and vagrant

A MASON-WASP She nearly always builds a lonely

disposition.

unlike

many Wasps and

nest,

and

Bees, she seldom founds her

family at the spot where she was reared herself. She is often found in our southern towns, but on the whole she prefers the peasant's

white

my

smoky house

Nowhere have

villa.

village, with its

I

to the

townsman's

seen her so plentiful as in

tumble-down cottages burnt yellow

by the sun. It is

obvious that this Wasp, when she so often chooses

the chimney as her abode, the site

is

not seeking her

means work, and dangerous work.

welfare of her family.

own comfort: She seeks the

This family, then, must require

a high temperature, such as other

Wasps and Bees do not

need. I

have seen a Pelopaeus nest in the engine-room of

a silk-factory, fixed to the ceiling just above the huge boiler.

At

this

spot

the

thermometer marked

120

degrees all through the year, except at night and on holidays.

In a country distillery

I

have found many

nests, fixed

on anything that came to hand, even a pile of accountbooks.

the

The temperature

still,

was

113

of one of these, quite close to

degrees.

It

is

plain

that

Wasp cheerfully endures a degree of heat that makes

this

the

oily palm-tree sprout.

A boiler or a furnace she regards as [73]

the ideal home, but

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS she

is

quite willing to content herself in any snug corner:

a conservatory, a kitchen-ceiling, the recess of a closed

As

window, the wall of a cottage bedroom. foundation on which she

As

indifferent.

the

to

fixes her nest, she is entirely

a rule she builds her groups of cells

on stonework or timber; but

at various times

I

have seen

nests inside a gourd, in a fur cap, in the hollow of a brick,

on the side of a bag of

Once

I

oats,

and

in a piece of lead tubing.

saw something more remarkable

near Avignon.

still, in

a

farm

In a large room with a very wide

fire-

place the soup for the farm-hands and the food for

The

the cattle simmered in a row of pots. to

come

in

from the

meal with the

To

appetite.

would take pegs.

silent

enjoy

haste that comes from a keen

half-hour comfortably

this

off their hats

Wasps

rising

it

was long enough

to

to take possession of their garments.

inside of a straw hat

capital shelter;

they

and smocks, and hang them on

was recognised

building-site, the folds of a

On

room, and devour their

Short though this meal was,

allow the

The

fields to this

labourers used

as a most useful

smock were looked upon

and the work of building started

as a

at once.

from the table one of the men would shake

smock, and another his hat, to rid

it

his

of the Wasp's nest,

which was already the size of an acorn.

The cook no friendly

in that

eye.

farmhouse regarded the Wasps with

They

dirtied everything,

[74]

she said.

!

A MASON-WASP Dabs of mud on

the ceiling, on the walls, or on the

chimney-piece you could put up with; but different matter

the curtains.

when you found them on

was a very

it

the linen

and

She had to beat the curtains every day

And it was trouble thrown away. The next morning the Wasps began building as busily as ever. with a bamboo.

II

N

HER BUILDING I

sympathised with the sorrows of that farm-cook, but

greatly regretted that

gladly

I

would have

they had covered

longed to

I

left the

Wasps

all the furniture

know what

How

could not take her place.

undisturbed, even

if

How

I

with

mud

the fate of a nest

I

would

be, if

perched on the uncertain support of a coat or a curtain

The

nest of the Mason-bee

is

made

surrounds the twig on which firmly fixed to

it;

it

of hard mortar, which built,

is

and becomes

but the nest of the Pelopaeus

Wasp

is

a

mere blob of mud, without cement or foundations.

The

materials of which

earth or dirt, picked

enough.

but in ever,

my

The

it is

are nothing but

up wherever

the soil

thin clay of a river-bank

is

stony country streams are rare.

watch the builders at

when a

made

my

leisure in

damp

very suitable, I can,

my own

thin trickle of water runs all day, as

[75]

is

wet

it

how-

garden,

does some-

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS my

times, througli the little trenches that are cut in

vegetable plots.

The

Pelopitus

come aware of

Wasps

this

of the neighlxjurhood soon be-

glad event, and come hurrying up to

take advantage of the precious layer of mud, a rare dis-

They

covery in the dry season.

and skim the

scrape

gleaming, shiny surface with their mandibles

standing high on their

and

with their wings quivering

legs,

No

their black bodies upraised.

wife, with skirts carefully tucked

neat

little

house-

up out of the

could be more skilful in tackling a job likely to

upon them,

own

so careful are they to tuck

fashion, that

body out of the way,

all

is

up

dirt,

soil

These mud-gatherers have not an atom of

clothes.

their

while

her dirt

their skirts in

to say, to keep their

whole

but the tips of their legs and the

busy points of the mandibles with which they work. In this

way

a dab of

Taking

of a pea.

adds a layer to

its

another pellet.

mud

is

the load in

collected, almost the size

its

teeth the insect

flies off,

building, and soon returns to collect

The same method

is

pursued as long as

the earth remains sufficiently wet, during the hottest

hours of the day.

But village,

Here

the favourite spot

is

the great fountain in the

where the people come to water

there

is

a constant sheet of black

mud

the hottest sunshine nor the strongest

[76]

their mules.

which neither

wind can dry.

A MASON- WASP This bed of mire

is

very unpleasant for the passers-by,

but the Pelopaeus loves to gather her pellets here, amid the hoofs of the mules.

Unlike some builders in the

Wasp

clay, such as the

does not improve the

mortar, but uses

it

just as

mud

Mason-bees,

make

to

into

it

Consequently her nests

it is.

are flimsy work, absolutely unfitted to stand the changes

and chances of the open

air.

A

drop of water laid upon

their surface softens the spot touched

mud again, turns

it

is

to pap.

They

are nothing but dried slime,

rain.

ings,

to

plain, then, that even if the

which would go

That

is

and

as soon as they are wetted.

not so chilly by nature, a shelter nests,

it

while a sprinkling equal to an average shower

become slime again It

and reduces

young Pelopaeus were

is

indispensable for the

to pieces at the first

why this Wasp

shower of

human

dwell-

coating, which covers

up the

is

so fond of

and especially of the chimney.

Before receiving

its final

details of the building, the nest has a certain beauty of its

own.

It consists

of a cluster of

arranged side by side in a row rather like a mouth-organ

—which

many as

sometimes

makes

it

look

—but more often grouped

layers placed one above the other.

counted as

cells,

fifteen cells

;

I

in

have sometimes

some nests contain only

ten ; others are reduced to three or four, or even only one.

In shape the

cells are

not far from cylinders, slightly

[77]

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS larger at the

mouth than

more than an inch

at the base.

are a little

and about half an inch wide.

long,

Their delicate surface

They

carefully polished, and shows

is

a series of string-like projections, running cross-wise,

not unlike the twisted cords of some kinds of gold-lace.

Each of these

strings

from the clod of

many

mud

By

already built.

is

journeys the

a layer of the building;

For one

comes

used for the coping of the part

counting them you can

Wasp

has

made

There are usually between

work.

it

cell, therefore, the

how

tell

in the course of her

and twenty.

fifteen

industrious builder fetches

materials something like twenty times.

The mouth upwards.

down.

of the cells

A pot

And

the

cannot hold

Wasp's

of course, always turned

is,

its

cell is

contents

if it

be upside

nothing but a pot

in-

tended to hold the store of food, a pile of small Spiders.

The

cells

and closed

—

built one

by one, stuffed

as the eggs are laid

appearance until the cluster

Then,

is

full of Spiders,

—preserve

their pretty

considered large enough.

to strengthen her work, the

Wasp covers

with a casing, as a protection and defence.

on the plaster without

stint

and without

art,

the whole

She lays giving

it

none of the delicate finishing-touches which she lavishes on the

cells.

The mud

is

applied just as

and merely spread with a few

it is

brought,

careless strokes.

The

beauties of the building all disappear under this ugly

[78]

A MASON- WASP husk.

In this final state the nest

is

like a great splash

of mud, flung against the wall by accident.

Ill

HER

Now must

that

PROVISIONS

we know what

find out

what

The young

it

the pro vision-jar

is like,

we

contains.

Pelopaeus

is

fed on Spiders.

The food

does not lack variety, even in the same nest and the

same it is

any Spider may form a meal,

for

cell,

not too large for the

jar.

The

Cross Spider, with

three crosses of white dots on her back,

occurs oftenest. that the trips,

Wasp

the dish that

is

think the reason for this

I

does not go far from

and the Spider with the

as long as

home

crosses

is

simply

in her hunting-

is

the easiest to

find.

The

armed with poison-fangs,

Spider,

prey to tackle.

When

is

a dangerous

of fair size, she could only be

conquered by a greater amount of daring and the

Wasp

possesses.

Moreover, the

to hold a bulky object.

game of moderate Spider that

is

a young one.

size.

skill

cells are too

The Wasp,

than

small

therefore, hunts

If she meets with a kind of

apt to become plump, she always chooses But, though

all are small, the size of

her

victims varies enormously, and this variation in size

[79]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS One

leads also to variation in number.

cell will

con-

tain a dozen Spiders, while in another there are only five

or six.

Another reason for her choice of small Spiders she kills them before potting them in her

suddenly upon her prey, and

falls

without pausing in her practised by some insects that

when

the food

is

flight. is

stored

carries

The

unknown it

is

that

She

cells.

almost

it off

skilful

paralysis

This means

to her.

Fortunately

soon decays.

the Spiders are small enough to be finished at a single

meal.

were large and could only be nibbled

If they

here and there, they would decay, and poison the grubs in the nest.

always find the egg, not on the surface of the heap,

I

but on the

first

Spider that was stored.

The Wasp

exception to this rule.

the bottom of the cell, lays her egg piles the other Spiders

the grub Spiders,

on the top.

There

is

no

places a Spider at

upon

By

it,

and then

this clever

plan

obliged to begin on the oldest of the dead

is

and then go on

finds in front of

it

to the

more

recent.

It

always

food that has not had time to decom-

pose.

The egg

is

always laid on the same part of the Spider,

the end containing the head being placed on the plumpest spot. it is

This hatched

is it

very pleasant for the grub, for the

moment

can begin eating the tenderest and nicest [80]

PELOPAEUS SPIRIFEX When

work is amber-yellozu, and rather reminds one of the outer skin of an onion

finished the

t\w

\U

^

^, -r

-_iiy^(^'^i

A MASON-WASP food in the

When

these economical creatures. there

is

wasted, however, by

Not a mouthful is

store.

meal

the

finished

is

heap of

practically nothing left of the whole

This

Spiders.

life

of gluttony lasts for eight or ten

days.

The grub then

sets to

of pure, perfectly white thing more

is

work

silk,

required to

to spin its cocoon, a sack

make

this sack

to be a protection, so the grub produces

a sort of liquid varnish.

meshes of the

Some-

extremely delicate.

As soon

tough enough

from

its

body

as it trickles into the

silk this varnish hardens,

and becomes a

The grub then fixes cocoon to make all secure.

lacquer of exquisite daintiness. a hard plug at the base of the

When

finished, the

work

amber-yellow, and rather

is

reminds one of the outer skin of an onion.

same

and

fine texture,

like the

From

it,

the same colour

onion skin

and transparency;

when

rustles

it

It has the

it is

fingered.

sooner or later according to temperature, the

perfect insect

is

It is possible,

hatched.

while the

Wasp

play her a trick which will show her instincts are.

A

is

storing her cell, to

how purely mechanical

cell has just

been completed,

us suppose, an'd the huntress arrives with her

She stores

it

first

let

Spider.

away, and at once fastens her egg on the

plumpest part of

its

body.

She

[81]

sets

out on a second

FABRE'S trip.

my

BOOK OF INSECTS

take advantage of her absence to remove with

I

tweezers from the bottom of the cell both the dead

Spider and the egg.

The disappearance of the egg must be discovered by the Wasp, one would think, if she possesses the least gleam of intelligence. The egg is small, it is true, but it lies

What

on a comparatively large object, the Spider.

Wasp

will the

do when she finds the

cell

empty?

Will

she act sensibly, and repair her loss by laying a second

Not

egg?

What

at all; she behaves

she does

away with

stores

is

to bring a second Spider,

as

much

unfortunate had occurred. fourth,

and

most absurdly.

still others,

cheerful zeal as

which she if

nothing

She brings a third and a

each of

whom

I

remove during

her absence; so that every time she returns from the chase the storeroom

is

persist obstinately for

found empty.

two days

insatiable jar, while

my

equally unflagging.

With

sibly

owing

I

have seen her

in seeking to

fill

the

it

was

patience in emptying

— posjourneys — the

the twentieth victim

to the fatigue of so

many

huntress considered that the pot was sufficiently supplied,

and began most carefully

to close the cell that contained

absolutely nothing.

The this

intelligence of insects

way.

The

is

limited everywhere in

accidental difficulty which one insect

powerless to overcome, any other, no matter what

[82]

is

its

A MASON-WASP species, will

be equally unable to cope with.

I could

give a host of similar examples to show that insects are absolutely without reasoning power, notwithstanding the

wonderful perfection of their work.

me

experiments has forced

A

long series of

to conclude that they are

They build,

neither free nor conscious in their industry.

weave, hunt,

way

stab,

and paralyse

their prey, in the

same

as they digest their food, or secrete the poison of

their sting, without the least understanding of the

They

or the end.

are,

am

I

own wonderful

ignorant of their

completely

convinced, talents.

Their instinct cannot be changed. not teach

means

Experience does

time does not awaken a glimmer in

it;

Pure

unconsciousness.

instinct, if it stood alone,

its

would

leave the insect powerless in the face of circumstances.

Yet is

circumstances are always changing, the unexpected

In this confusion some power

always happening.

needed by the insect teach

it

what

—

to accept

as

by every other creature

and what

a guide of some kind, and sesses. it

Intelligence

is

too fine a

It requires

to refuse.

guide

it

word

for

to

certainly posit

:

I will call

discernment. Is the insect conscious of

No, is

this

—

is

if its

action

is

what

guided by

it

does'?

instinct.

Yes, and no.

Yes,

if its

action

the result of discernment.

The Pelopaeus,

for instance, builds her cells with earth

[83]

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS already softened into mud.

always built

in this

way.

This

is

She has

instinct.

Neither the passing ages nor

the struggle for life will induce her to imitate the

Mason-

bee and make her nest of dry dust and cement.

mud

This

A

hiding-place under a stone, perhaps, sufficed at

But when of is

nest of hers needs a shelter against the rain.

she found something better she took possession

She installed herself in the home of man.

it.

first.

This

discernment.

She supplies her young with food Spiders.

This

is

in

and nothing

instinct,

the

form of

will ever per-

suade her that young Crickets are just as good.

But

should there be a lack of her favourite Cross Spider she will not leave her grubs unfed; she will bring

This

Spiders.

is

them other

discernment.

In this quality of discerment

lies

the possibility of

future improvement for the insect.

IV

HER ORIGIN The the

Pelopaeus sets us another problem.

warmth of our

mud

which would be reduced

have a dry Is

fireplaces.

it

shelter.

Heat

possible that she

is

is

Her to

She seeks

nest, built of soft

pulp by damp, must

a necessity to her.

a foreigner?-

[84]

Did

she come,

A MASON-WASP perhaps, from the shores of Africa, from the land of dates to the land of olives? case, that she

for her,

It

would be

natural, in that

should find our sunshine not

and should seek the

artificial

warm enough

warmth of

the

fire-

This would explain her habits, so unlike those

side.

of the other Wasps, by all of

What was Where Where

her

whom mankind

is

avoided.

before she became our guest?

life

did she lodge before there were any houses? did she shelter her grubs before chimneys were

thought of? Perhaps,

when

the early inhabitants of the hills near

Serignan were making weapons out of

jflints,

goatskins for clothes, and building huts of

scraping

mud and

branches, those huts were already frequented by the Pelopaeus.

Perhaps she built her nest in some bulging

pot, shaped out of clay

by the thumbs of our ancestors;

or in the folds of the garments, the skins of the

and the Bear.

When

she

made

her

home on

Wolf

the rough

walls of branches and clay, did she choose the nearest spot, I

was

wonder, to the hole in the roof by which the smoke

let

out?

Though not equal

to our

chimnevs

it

may

have served at a pinch. If the Pelopseus really lived here with the earliest

human

inhabitants,

what improvements she has seen

She too must have profited greatly by has

civilisation:

I

she

turned man's increasing comfort into her own. [85]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

When

the

dwelling with a roof and a ceiling was

planned, and the chimney with a flue was invented,

we

can imagine the chilly creature saying to herself:

"How

pleasant this

is

I

Let us pitch our tent here."

But we will go back further

Before

still.

man

existed, before the niche in the rut, before

huts

himself

The

had appeared, where did the Pelopaeus build?

Where

question does not "stand alone.

did the Swallow

and the Sparrow build before there were windows and chimneys

to build in?

Since the Swallow, the Sparrow, and the

Wasp

existed

before man, their industry cannot be dependent on the

Each of them must have had an

works of man.

building in the time

when man was not

For thirty years and more

I

art of

here.

asked myself where the

Pelopa?us lived in those times.

Outside our houses

could find no trace of her nests.

At

favours the persevering, came to

The Serignan

last chance,

I

which

my help.

quarries are full of broken stones, of

refuse that has been piled there in the course of centuries.

and

Here

acorns, or

shells lie here

them

the Fieldmouse crunches his olive-stones

now and

then a Snail.

and there beneath a

different Bees

stone,

and Wasps build

searching for these treasures nest of a Pelopaeus

The empty

among

I

and within

their cells.

In

found, three times, the

the broken stones.

[86]

Snail-

A MASON-WASP These three nests were exactly the same found

The

in our houses.

the protective covering

those

as

material was mud, as always;

The dangers

was the same mud.

of the site had suggested no improvements to the builder.

We

see, then, that

sometimes, but very rarely, the Pe-

lopaeus builds in stoneheaps

and under

that do not touch the ground. as these that she

It

flat

was

blocks of stone in such places

must have made her nest before she

invaded our houses.

The three nests, however, were in a piteous state. The damp and exposure had ruined them, and the cocoons were in pieces.

Unprotected by

their earthen cover the

—eaten by a Fieldmouse

grubs had perished

The

sight of these ruins

made me wonder

or another.

if

my

neigh-

bourhood were really a suitable place for the Pelopaeus to build her nest out of doors.

Wasp dislikes

doing

so,

a desperate measure.

and

And

is

if

It

is

plain that the mother

hardly ever driven to such the climate makes

it

im-

possible for her to practise the industry of her forefathers successfully, I think

foreigner.

we may conclude

that she

is

a

Surely she comes from a hotter and drier

climate, where there

is little

the Pelopaus

rain

and no snow.

of African origin.

Far

back in the past she came to us through Spain and

Italy,

and she hardly ever goes further north than the

olive-

I believe

trees.

She

is

is

an African who has become a naturalised [87]

FABRE'S ProverKjal.

In Africa she

stones, but in the

woman

BOOK OF INSECTS

Malay Archipelago we

in houses.

From one end

other she has the same tastes shelter of a man's roof.

pelago

I

—

of the world to the

Spiders,

If I

hear of her kins-

mud cells, and

the

were in the Malay Archi-

should turn over the stone-heaps, and should

most likely discover a nest a

said often to nest under

is

in the original position,

flat stone.

[88]

under

CHAPTER

VII

THE PSYCHES

A WELL-DRESSED CATERPILLAR

IN

the springtime, those

who have

eyes to see

may

a surprise on old walls and dusty roads.

find

Certain tiny faggots, for no apparent reason, set

way along by

themselves in motion and make their

sudden

jerks.

moves.

This

The is

lifeless

comes to

indeed amazing.

life

:

If

the immovable

we

look closer,

is

a fair-sized

however, we shall solve the riddle.

Enclosed within the moving bundle Caterpillar, prettily striped with black is

and white.

He

seeking for food, and perhaps for some spot where

he can turn into a Moth.

He

hurries along timidly,

dressed in a queer garment of twigs, which completely covers the whole of him except his head and the front

part of his body, with

its six

short legs.

alarm he disappears entirely into

budge again. of sticks.

This

It is

is

his case,

At

the least

and does not

the secret of the walking bundle

a Faggot Caterpillar, belonging to the

group known as the Psyches. [89]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S To

protect himself from the weather the chilly, bare-

skinned Psyche builds himself a portable shelter, a

owner never leaves

travelling cottage which the

he becomes a Moth.

It

indeed, something better than

is,

a hut on wheels, with a thatched roof to like a hermit's frock,

made

it:

it

more

is

of an unusual kind of ma-

Danube

In the valley of the

terial.

until

the peasant wears

The

a goatskin cloak fastened with a belt of rushes.

Psyche wears even rougher raiment than

this:

he makes

himself a suit of clothes out of

And

since this

would be

a regular hair-shirt to a skin so delicate as his,

he puts in a thick lining of

silk.

my

In April, on the walls of

stony harmas with

He

is

soon become a Moth.

examining It is

his

bundle of

It

—

I

find the

detailed infor-

which shows he will

a good opportunity for

is

sticks, or case.

a fairly regular object, shaped like a spindle, and

The

about an inch and a half long. it

life

my most

in the torpid state

—my

workshop

chief

wealth of insect

its

Psyche who will supply me with mation.

sticks.

are fixed in front

and

pieces that compose

free at the back.

They

are

arranged anyhow, and would form rather a poor shelter against the sun and rain protection than

At the is

first

if

the hermit

had no other

this.

glance

it

appears like thatch: but thatch

not an exact description of

it.

[90]

for grain-stems are rarely

THE PSYCHES This

the secret of the zvalking bundle of sticks. It is a Faggot Caterpillar, belonging to the group knozvn as the Psyches is

"j-.X' i'->-;

'.r,\,nr>

yT

-.XWT

;|,"

\

»

THE PSYCHES found

in

The

it.

small stalks, light,

chief materials are remnants of verysoft,

and

rich in pith; next in order

come

bits of grass-leaves, scaly twigs

tree,

and

all

sorts of little sticks;

from the cypress-

and

lastly,

if

the

favourite pieces run short, fragments of dry leaves.

In short the Caterpillar, while preferring pithy pieces, will use anything he comes across, provided it be light,

very dry, softened by long exposure, and of the right size. All his materials are used just as they are, with-

out any alterations or sawings to make them the proper length. He does not cut the laths that form his roof;

he gathers them as he finds them. to fixing

them

His work

is

limited

at the fore-end.

In order to lend itself to the movements of the travelling Caterpillar, legs to

move

and particularly

freely while a

new

to enable the

piece

is

head and

being fixed in

position, the front part of this case or sheath

made

in a special way.

What

is

must be

Here a casing of sticks is no longer suitable, for their length and stiffness would hamper the workman and even make his work impossible. required here

all directions.

The

is

a flexible neck, able to

move

suddenly at some distance from the fore-part, and there replaced

by a

in

collection of stakes, therefore, ends

collar

where the

is

silk lining is

merely

hardened with very tiny particles of wood,

which

strengthen the material without making

[91]

it less flexible.

— FABRE'S This

BOOK OF INSECTS

which allows of free movement,

collar,

tant that all the Psyches use

may

of their work

differ.

it,

is

so impor-

however greatly the

rest

All carry, in front of the bundle

of sticks, a yielding neck, soft to the touch, formed inside

web of pure

of a

silk

and coated outside with a velvety

sawdust, which the Caterpillar obtains by crushing up

any

sort of

dry straw.

The same kind

of velvet, but

apparently through age in the

it

I

finishes the sheath at the back,

remove the outside of the straw casing, shred-

piece by piece,

or tiny sticks.

more.

I

I

Underneath

was formerly inner sheath

which

it I

find,

is

of laths,

same kind of inner sheath that

and back only.

This

composed everywhere of very strong without breaking when

It is a

smooth

it

silk,

pulled by the

tissue, beautifully

drab and wTinkled outside, where

woody

number

from one end of the Cater-

visible at the front

resists

fingers.

find a varying

have counted as many as eighty, and

pillar to the other, the

of

and faded

form of a rather long projection, open at the end.

When ding

—

dull

white inside,

bristles

with a crust

particles.

Later on

we

shall see

self this complicated

how

makes him-

garment, formed of three layers,

one placed upon the other

comes the extremely

the Caterpillar

in

fine satin

[92]

a definite order.

which

is

First

in direct contact

THE PSYCHES with the skin next, the mixed ;

stuff

dusted with woody

and gives strength

to the

work; and lastly the outer casing of overlapping

sticks.

matter, which saves the silk

Although

all the

Psyches wear this threefold garment,

make

the different species

There

case.

to

is

distinct variations in the outer

one kind, for instance,

whom

meet towards the end of June, hurrying

first species,

ment.

It

fragments of hollow

and perhaps

-blades of grass.

any flounce of dead which

is

some

many pieces,

in

which

stalks, bits of fine straw,

In front there

is

never

leaves, a troublesome piece of finery

pretty frequent, though not always used, in the

costume of the there

across

apt

both in size and in regularity of arrange-

forms a thick coverlet of

I recognise

am

His case surpasses that of

dusty path near the houses. the

I

first

species I described.

At the back

no long projection beyond the outer covering.

is

Save for the indispensable collar at the neck, the whole Caterpillar

is

about the thing, but, when

beauty in

There

who

is

very

is

not

much

all is said, there is

variety

a certain

stern faultlessness.

its is

There

cased in sticks.

a smaller

common

and more simply dressed Psyche at the

end of winter on the walls,

as well as in the bark of gnarled old trees, whether olivetrees or elms, or indeed almost

modest

little

bundle,

is

any

other.

His

case,

a

hardly more than two-fifths of [93]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S an inch at

in length.

random and

A

dozen rotten straws, picked up

fixed close to one another in a parallel

whole out-

direction, represent, with the silk sheath, his

lay on dress. It

would be

more economi-

difficult to clothe oneself

cally.

II

A DEVOTED If

I

gather a number of

MOTHER

little

place them in a wire bell-jar,

them.

Most of them

to be turned into

I

can find out more about

are in the chrysalis state, waiting

Moths, but a few are

clamber to the top of the wire themselves by means of a they and

I

Psyches in April and

must wait

for

still

There they

trellis.

little silk

and

active

cushion,

fix

and both

weeks before anything further

happens.

At case,

or

the

end of June the male Psyche comes out of

no longer a Caterpillar, but a Moth.

bundle of

sticks,

the

case,

you will remember, had two openings,

one in front and one at the back. is

The

his

The

front one, which

more regular and carefully made,

is

permanently

closed by being fastened to the support on which the chrysalis

is

fixed; so the

Moth, when he

is

hatched,

obliged to come out by the opening at the back.

[94]

is

The

THE PSYCHES Caterpillar turns round inside the case before he changes into a

Moth.

Though they wear but

a simple pearl-grey dress and

have insignificant wings, hardly larger than those of a

Common

Fly,

enough.

They have handsome

antennae,

and

these

their

little

male Moths are graceful feathery plumes

for

wings are edged with delicate fringes.

For the appearance of the female Psyche, however, little

can be said.

Some days

later than the others she

and shows herself

sheath,

that little fright a

comes out of the

in all her wretchedness.

One cannot

Moth!

Call

easily get used

to the idea of so miserable a sight: as a Caterpillar she

was no worse all

;

there

is

There are no wings, none at

to look at.

no silky fur

either.

At

the tip of her round,

tufty body she wears a crown of dirty-white velvet; on

each segment, in the middle of the back, tangular, dark patch

—her

the beauty which her

As she leaves her chrysalid sheath she it,

.When

lays her eggs

thus bequeathing the maternal cottage (or the

maternal garment, a great

a large, rec-

sole attempts at ornament.

The mother Psyche renounces all name of Moth seems to promise. within

is

many

if

you

As she

will) to her heirs.

lays

eggs the affair takes some thirty hours.

the laying

is

finished she closes the door

everything safe against invasion. [95]

For

and makes

this

purpose

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS some kind of wadding

The fond mother

required.

is

makes use of the only ornament which,

She wedges the door with the

poverty, she possesses. coro*net of velvet

which she carries at the

Finally she does even more than

rampart of her body

ment

extreme

in her

With

itself.

tip of her body.

She makes a

this.

a convulsive move-

she dies on the threshold of her recent home, her

cast chrysalid skin,

and there her remains dry up.

Even

after death she stays at her post. If the outer case be

now opened

will be

it

found

to

contain the chrysalid wrapper, uninjured except for the

opening

in front,

by which the Psyche came

male Moth, when obliged narrow

pass,

cumbersome

would

to

make

find his wings

For

articles.

for the door while he

comes half-way out.

way through

his

and

plumes very

his

in the chrysalis state,

Then,

as

the

he makes a start

this reason

is still

The

out.

and

he bursts his amber-

coloured tunic, he finds, right in front of him, an open space where flight

But

the mother

and plumes,

Her

tions. little

is

is

possible.

Moth, being unprovided with wings

not compelled to take any such precau-

cylinder-like

form

is

bare,

from that of the Caterpillar.

crawl, to slip into the narrow passage,

without

difficulty.

So she leaves her [96]

and It

and

differs

very

allows her to to

come forth

cast skin behind

THE PSYCHES back of the

her, right at the

case, well

covered by the

thatched roof.

And

this is

an act of prudence, showing her deep

They

concern for the fate of her eggs.

packed as though

formed by the

in fact,

bag

in a barrel, in the parchment-like

The Moth

cast skin.

gone on laying eggs in that receptacle satisfied

are,

has methodically

Not

till it is full.

with bequeathing her house and her velvet

coronet to her offspring, as the last act of her life she leaves

them her skin.

Wishing I

to observe the course of events at

my

ease

once took one of these chrysalid bags, stuffed with eggs,

from

its

outer casing of sticks, and placed

beside

its case,

July

suddenly found myself

I

family.

in a glass tube.

The hatching

In the

first

by

itself,

week of

in possession of a large

took place so quickly that the

new-born Caterpillars, about forty already clothed themselves in

They wore

it

in

number, had

my absence.

a garment like a sort of Persian head-dress,

in dazzling white plush.

Or, to be more commonplace,

a white cotton night-cap without a say, however, instead of

tassel.

Strange to

wearing their caps on their

heads, they wore them standing quarters, almost perpendicularly.

gaily inside the tube, which

up from

their hind-

They roamed about

was a spacious dwelling

[97]

for

FABRE'S such mites.

I

BOOK OF INSECTS

was quite determined

what materials and

to find out with

what manner the

in

outlines

first

of the cap were woven.

Fortunately the chrysalid bag was far from being

empty.

found within the rumpled wrapper a second

I

family as numerous as those already out of the case. Altogether there must have been five or six dozen eggs. I

transferred to another place the little Caterpillars

who

were already dressed, keeping only the naked new-comers in the tube.

They had

bright red heads

;

the rest of their

bodies was dirty-white; and they measured hardly a twenty-fifth of an inch in length. I

had not long to wait.

singly or in groups, the

The next little

day,

little

little,

laggards left the chrysa-

They came out without breaking

lid bag.

by

that frail

through the opening in front made by their

object,

Not one

mother.

though

it

of them used

it

as a dress-material,

had the delicacy and amber colouring of an

onion-skin ; nor did any of them

make

use of a certain fine

quilting that lines the inside of the bag and forms an exquisitely soft bed for the eggs. this

downy stuff would make an

One would have thought excellent blanket for the

chilly creatures, but not a single one used

would not be enough

They sticks,

all

which

went I

had

to

it.

There

go round.

straight to the coarse outer casing of left in contact

[98]

with the chrysalid skin

THE PSYCHES The matter was

containing the eggs.

evidently

they

urgent,

Before making your entrance into the

felt.

world and going a-hunting, you must

first

be clad.

All

therefore, with equal fury, attacked the old sheath

and

hastily dressed themselves in their mother's old clothes.

Some turned

their attention to bits that

opened lengthwise, scraping the

happened

to be

soft white inner layer;

others, greatly daring, penetrated into the tunnel of a

hollow stalk and collected their materials in the dark.

The courage

was rewarded; they secured

of these

rate materials

and wove garments of dazzling white.

There were others who

the

bit

deeply into the piece they

and made themselves a motley covering,

chose,

sndwy whiteness was marred by darker

The

in

which

particles.

tools the little Caterpillars use for this purpose are

their mandibles,

have

first-

which are shaped

five strong teeth apiece.

like

wide shears and

The two

blades

fit

into

each other, and form an instrument capable of seizing

and

slicing

scope

it is

precision

any

fibre,

however small.

Under

the micro-

seen to be a wonderful specimen of mechanical

and power.

proportion to her

size,

If the

Sheep had a similar tool in

she could browse on the stems of

trees instead of the grass. It is

ing to

very instructive to watch these Psyche-grubs

make themselves

numbers of things

a cotton night-cap.

There are

to remark, both in the finish of the

[99]

toil-

work

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS and the

skill

tiny that while glass

I

I

observe them through

must be careful not

moment its

ago,

it

knows how

mother's old clothes.

more presently, but regard to I

magnifying

Yet this speck

An

of blanket-making.

art

my

are so

to breathe, lest I should over-

turn them or puif them away. the

They

of the methods they employ.

its

expert in

orphan, born

to cut itself a

Of

is

methods

but a

garment out of I

will tell

you

must say another word with

first I

dead mother.

its

have spoken of the downy quilting that covers the

side of the chrysalid bag.

on which the

little

bed of eider-down,

Caterpillars rest for a while after leav-

Warmly

ing the egg.

It is like a

in-

nestling in this soft rug they pre-

pare themselves for their plunge into the outer world of

work.

The Eider

robs herself of her

down

to

make

a luxurious

bed for her brood; the mother Rabbit shears from her own

body the

softest part of her fur to provide a mattress for

her new-born family.

And

the

same thing

is

done by the

Psyche.

The mass for the

of soft

wadding

baby Caterpillar

delicacy.

Through

is

that

makes a warm coverlet

a material of incomparable

the microscope

the scaly dust, the intensely fine

it

can be recognised as

down

in

which every

Moth is clad. To give a snug shelter to the little grubs who will soon be swarming in the case, to provide them [lOO]

THE PSYCHES with a refuge in which they can play about and gather strength before entering the wide world, the Psyche strips herself of her fur like the

This

mother Rabbit.

may possibly be done mechanically;

it

may be

the

unintentional effect of rubbing repeatedly against the

low-roofed walls but there ;

is

nothing to

tell

the humblest mother has her foresight. that the hairy

Moth

twists about,

It

and goes

us

is

so.

Even

quite likely

to

and

fro in

the narrow passage, in order to get rid of her fleece

and

prepare bedding for her family.

have read in books that the young Psyches begin

I

by eating up and

sort,

I

their mother.

there

is

enough

my

have seen nothing of the

I

do not even understand how the idea

Indeed, she has given up so

nothing

left of her

to provide a

much so

for her family that

—not

numerous a brood.

No,

thin,

Psyches, you do not eat your mother.

little

arose.

dry strips

but some

meal for

life

In vain

I

watch you: never, either to clothe or to feed him-

self,

does any one of you lay a tooth upon the remains of

do

the deceased.

Ill

A CLEVER TAILOR I will

now

describe in greater detail the dressing of

the grubs.

[101]

FABRE'S The hatching

BOOK OF INSECTS

of the eggs takes place in the

The head and upper

night of July.

first fort-

part of the

little

grubs are of a glossy black, the next two segments are brownish, and the rest of the body

is

are sharp, lively little creatures,

They

a pale amber.

who run about with

short, quick steps.

For a time, after they are out of the bag where they are hatched, they remain in the heap of

from

their mother.

comfort

too,

some take a

Here

there

is

fluff

that

was stripped

more room, and more

than in the bag whence they came and while ;

rest,

others bustle about

selves in walking.

They

and

are all picking

exercise them-

up strength

be-

fore leaving the outer case.

They do not

amid

stay long

as they gain vigour, they

surface of the case.

work

— that

this luxury.

Gradually,

come out and spread over the

Work

begins at once, a very urgent

By and by

of dressing themselves.

will think of food: at present nothing

is

they

of any import-

ance but clothes.

Montaigne, when putting on a cloak which

had worn before him, used father."

to say, "I dress myself in

Well, the young Psyches

themselves in their mother.

his father

in the

(In the

my

same way dress

same way,

it

must

be remembered; not in her skin, but in her clothes.)

From

the outer case of sticks, which I have sometimes

described as a house and sometimes as a garment, they

[102]

THE PSYCHES make themselves a

scrape the material to stuff they use

frock.

The

the pith of the little stalks, especially of

is

the pieces that are split lengthwise, because the contents are more easily taken from these.

The manner of beginning the garment is worth noting. The tiny creature employs a method as ingenious as any that we could hope to discover. The wadding is

How

collected in pellets of infinitesimal size. little

pellets to be fixed

and joined together?

manufacturer needs a support, a base; and cannot be obtained on the Caterpillar's difficulty

overcome very cleverly.

is

are these

this

The

support

own body. The The pellets are

gathered together, and by degrees fastened to one another

—

with threads of

can spin web.

silk

silk

from

In this

way

his

own body

it

is

as the Spider spins her

a sort of garland

pellets or particles swinging in a

When

is

little creature, in

its six legs free.

Then

bit of silk, so that

it

formed, with the

row from the same

long enough this garland

the waist of the

you know,

for the Caterpillar, as

is

such a

rope.

passed round

way

as to leave

the ends together with a

it ties

forms a girdle round the grub's

body.

This girdle

whole work.

is

To

the starting-point

lengthen

it,

and support of the

and enlarge

plete garment, the grub has only to fix to

it

into a com-

it

the scraps

of pith which the mandibles never cease tearing from

[103]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

These scraps or

the case.

pellets are sometimes placed

at the top, sometimes at the bottom or side, but they are

No device could be better

always fixed at the fore-edge. contrived than this garland,

buckled

like a belt

Once

this start

first

laid out flat

round the body. is

made

the

weaving goes on

Gradually the girdle grows into a short jacket,

complete

and

and then

lastly a sack,

— a conical hood

well.

scarf, a waistcoat,

and

in a

few hours

a

it is

or cloak of magnificent white-

ness.

Thanks

to his mother's care the little

grub

is

spared

the perils of roaming about in a state of nakedness.

If

she did not place her family in her old case they might

have great

and

difficulty in clothing themselves, for straws

stalks rich in pith are not

found

yet, unless they died of exposure,

or later they

would

find

it

ever\"\vhere.

And

appears that sooner

some kind of garment, since

they seem ready to use any material that comes to hand. I

have made many experiments with new-born grubs

in a glass tube.

From

the stalks of a sort of dandelion they scraped,

without the least hesitation, a superb white pith, and

made

much

finer

than

any they would have obtained from the remains of

their

it

into a delicious white cloak,

mother's clothes.

An even

better garment

was woven

from some pith taken from the kitchen-broom. [104]

This

:

THE PSYCHES time the work glittered with of crystal or grains of sugar.

like specks

little sparks,

It

my

was

manufacturers'

masterpiece.

The next

material I offered them was a piece of

Here again my grubs did not

blotting-paper.

they lustily scraped the surface and

paper

when

this that it,

Indeed, they were so

coat.

I

gave them

hesitate

made themselves a much pleased with

their native case they scorned

preferring the blotting-paper.

To

others I gave nothing at

all.

Not

to

be

baffled,

however, they hastened to scrape the cork of the tube

and break

it

Out

into atoms.

of these they

made them-

selves a frock of cork-grains, as faultless as though they

and

The

their ancestors

had always made use of

novelty of the

this material.

which perhaps no Caterpillar

stuff,

had ever used before, made no

difference in the cut of the

garment.

Finding them ready to accept any vegetable matter that was dry and light,

and mineral substances.

I

next tried them with animal I

cut a strip from the wing of

a Great Peacock Moth, and placed two Caterpillars tated.

carpet.

upon

Then one

naked

For a long time they both

hesi-

of them resolved to use the strange

Before the day was over he had clothed himself

in grey velvet I

it.

little

made

next took some

of the Great Peacock's scales. soft, flaky stones,

[105]

such as will break

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

at the merest touch into

atoms nearly as

on a Butterfly's wing.

On

which glittered pillars in

was very

rich

stuff,

I

placed four Cater-

One, and one alone, decided

flashes of every colour of the rainbow,

and sumptuous, but mightily heavy and

cumbrous.

Walking became

of metal.

Even

walked

powdery

His metallic garment, from which

to dress himself.

drew

dust

a bed of this

like steel filings,

need of clothes.

the light

fine as the

so

laborious under that load

must a B}'^antine Emperor have

at ceremonies of State.

In cases of necessity, then, the young Caterpillar does

So urgent

not shrink from acts of sheer madness.

need

his

to clothe himself that he will

than clothes.

and on

If I

make him

then, having robbed

weave mineral

Food means

matter rather than go naked.

him of

make himself a new

less to

him

fast for a couple of days, his

garment, place him

his favourite foo'd, a leaf of very hairy

will

is

coat before

hawkweed, he satisfying his

hunger.

This devotion

to dress

is

tiveness to cold, but to the

due, not to any special sensi-

young

Caterpillar's foresight.

Other Caterpillars take shelter among the leaves,

underground

cells, or in the

cracked bark of

trees,

in

but

the Psyche spends his winter exposed to the weather.

He

therefore prepares himself, from his birth, for the

perils of the cold season.

[106]

THE PSYCHES As soon

as he

is

threatened with the rains of

he begins to work upon at

It is

very rough

bits of

dry leaves

his outer case.

Straws of uneven length and

first.

autumn

are fastened, with no attempt at order, behind the neck

of the sack or undergarment, which must remain flexible so as to allow the Caterpillar to

These untidy

direction.

first

bend freely

in

every

logs of the outer case will

not interfere with the final regularity of the building: they will be pushed back and driven out as the sack

grows longer

in front.

After a time the pieces are longer and more carefully chosen,

and are

of a straw

it

then, gripping

The placing speed and skill. The

on lengthwise.

done with surprising

is

Caterpillar turns

and

all laid

round and round between it

in his mandibles,

his legs,

removes a few

morsels from one end, and immediately fixes them to the end of the sack. the silk

may

touch of the

He probably does

this in order that

obtain a firmer hold, as a plumber gives a

file

to a point that

is

to be soldered.

Then, by sheer strength of jaw, he

lifts

and brandishes

At

his straw in the air before laying it

on

once the spinneret sets to work and

fixes it in place.

Without any groping about done. case

is

But

By

his back.

or correcting, the thing

the time the cold weather arrives the

is

warm

complete. the silky felt of the interior

[107]

is

never thick enough

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS When

to please the Caterpillar. all his spare

time in improving his quilt, in making

Even

ever thicker and softer.

he refuses to rebuild to the lining, even

The

sack

is

it

:

when

there

lamentably flabby;

—

and he upholsters

or lining a

garment

will perish miserably, cut

of

it

is

—

[108]

layers

and rumples.

No

matter.

He

The hour

has come for up-

obstinately,

no longer

up by the Ants,

his too-rigid instinct.

new

nothing to be lined.

sags

that

it

take off his outer case

The hour

for carpentry has passed.

house

if I

he persists in adding

has no protection nor shelter.

holstering;

spring comes he spends

padding a exists.

He

as the result

CHAPTER

VIII

THE SELF-DENIAL OF THE SPANISH

YOU

remember,

I

hope, the Sacred Beetle,

spends her time in making

serve as food

of her pear-shaped nest,

COPRIS

and I

balls,

who

both to

also to be the foundation

pointed out the advantages

of this shape for the young Beetles, since the globe

is

the best form that could be invented to keep their provisions

from becoming dry and hard.

After watching this Beetle at work for a long time I

began to wonder

if I

had not perhaps been mistaken in

admiring her instinct so greatly.

Was

it

really care

for her grubs, I asked myself, that taught her to provide

them with the tenderest and most the trade of the Sacred Beetle to

suitable food?

make

balls.

Is it

It is

won-

derful that she should continue her ball-making under-

ground?

A

creature built with long curved legs, very

useful for rolling balls across the fields, will go on with

her favourite occupation wherever she

regard to her grubs.

may

be,

without

Perhaps the shape of the pear

is

mere chance.

To I

settle this question satisfactorily in

my own mind

should need to be shown a Scavenger Beetle

[109]

who was

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

unfamiliar with the ball-making business in

utterly

everyday

and who

life,

when laying-time was

yet,

at

hand, made an abrupt change in her habits and stored

That would

her provisions in the form of a round lump.

show me that grubs, that

was not merely custom, but care

it

made

for her

her choose the globular shape for her

nest.

Now

in

very kind.

my

neighbourhood there

She

is

is

a Beetle of this

one of the handsomest and largest,

Her name

though not so imposing as the Sacred Beetle. is

the Spanish Copris,

and she

is

remarkable for the sharp

slope of her chest and the size of the horn surmounting

her head.

Being round and squat, the Spanish Copris

is

certainly

incapable of such gymnastics as are performed by the

Her

Sacred Beetle. length,

legs,

which are insignificant

and which she folds under her body

at

in

the

slightest alarm, are not in the least like the stilts of the pill-rollers.

bility are

Their stunted form and their lack of

enough

would not care

in

to

themselves to

tell

us that their

flexi-

owner

roam about burdened with a

rolling

not of an active nature.

Once

ball.

The

Copris, indeed,

is

she has found her provisions, at night or in the evening twilight, she begins to dig a

a rough cavern, large

burrow on the

enough

[no]

to hold

spot.

an apple.

It is

Here

is

SELF-DENIAL OF

THE SPANISH

introduced, bit by

the stuff that

or at

any

rate lying

bit,

is

COPRIS

just overhead,

enormous supply of food

is

stored in a shapless mass,

plain evidence of the insect's gluttony.

As long

is

empty

as

When

the hoard lasts the Copris remains underground.

the larder

An

on the threshold of the cave.

the insect searches out a fresh supply

of food, and scoops out another burrow.

For the time being the Copris She

a gatherer of manure.

is

evidently quite ignorant,

at present, of the art of kneading

and modelling a round

Besides, her short clumsy legs seem utterly un-

loaf.

suited for

any such

May

In insect

art.

becomes very particular about choosing the softest

pleases her, she buries

by armfuls,

bit

by

and better

it

on the

There

bit.

no preparation.

larger

The

or June, however, comes laying-time.

Having found what

materials for her family's food.

ing,

merely a scavenger,

is

I

is

spot, carrying

no

travelling,

it

down

no

cart-

observe, too, that the burrow

is

built than the temporary abodes in

which the Copris takes her own meals. Finding wild

it difficult

to observe the insect closely in its

state, I resolved to place it in

there watch

The poor captivity,

it

at

my

insect-house,

and

my ease.

creature was at

first

a

little

nervous in

and when she had made her burrow was very

cautious about entering

it.

By

[111]

degrees, however, she

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS was

reassured,

of the food

and

in a single night she stored a

had provided

I

Before a week was out

for her.

dug up

I

storing with provisions.

It

I

In a corner

level floor.

The

which ran

walls of this dwelling,

which was hollowed out of fresh earth, had been fully compressed,

and were strong enough

earthquake caused by see that the insect

my

with

hall,

to a slanting gallery,

to the surface of the soil.

insect-

had seen her

was a spacious

an irregular roof and an almost

up

my

the soil in

house, and brought to light the burrow

was a round hole leading

supply

experiments.

had put forth

all

It

her

care-

to resist the

was easy to skill,

her

all

digging-powers, in the making of this permanent home,

whereas her

own dining-room had been

a mere cave, with

walls that were none too safe. I

suspect she

is

helped, in the building of this archi-

tectural masterpiece,

by her mate:

at least I often see

him with her

in the burrows.

his partner a

hand with the collecting and storing of the

provisions.

It is

work.

elsewhere.

way back

His part

what do

also believe that he lends

a quicker job

But once the home

he makes his

Now

I

is

when

and

family mansion

I find in this

two

to

well stocked he retires:

to the surface

in the

there are

settles is

down

ended.

mansion, into which

I

have seen so many tiny loads of provisions lowered"?

A mass

of small pieces, heaped together anyhow*?

[112]

Not

SELF-DENIAL OF a bit of

which

I

it.

THE SPANISH

COPRIS

always find a simple lump, a huge mass

the dwelling except for a narrow passage.

fills

This lump has no fixed shape.

I

come

across

some

that are like a Turkey's egg in form and size; some the

common

shape of a

round, and remind

onion; I find some that are almost

me

Dutch

of a

cheese; I see

some

that are circular, with a slight swelling on the upper

In every case the surface

surface.

smooth and nicely

is

curved.

There

no mistaking what has happened.

is

The

mother has collected and kneaded into one lump the

numerous fragments brought down one after the

Out

of all those particles she has

by mashing them, working them on them.

Time

of the Sacred Beetle strolls

is

together,

much

so

a single lump,

and treading

have seen her on top of

after time I

the colossal loaf which

made

other.

—a mere

larger than the ball

pill in

comparison.

She

about on the convex surface, which sometimes

measures as much as four inches across; she pats the mass,

and makes

it

firm

and

curious scene, for the the curved slope

With

level.

I

moment

only catch a sight of the

she sees

me

she slips

down

and hides away.

the help of a

row of

opaque sheaths of cardboard, interesting things.

In the

the big loaf does not

owe

glass jars, all enclosed in

I

can find out a good

first its

[113]

many

place I have found that

curve

—which

is

always

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

no matter how much the slope may vary

regular,

any rolling

process.

Indeed

I

already

knew

—

to

that so

large a mess could not have been rolled into a hole that it

nearly

Besides, the strength of the insect

fills.

would

be unequal to moving so great a load.

Every time I

I

go to the jar the evidence

the same.

is

always see the mother Beetle twisted on top of the

lump, feeling here and feeling there, giving

and making the thing smooth. looking as

if

Never do

she wanted to turn the block.

little taps, I

catch her

It is clear as

daylight that rolling has nothing to do with the matter.

At

last it

is

The baker

ready.

divides his

dough

into smaller lumps, each of which will

loaf.

The Copris does

the

lump

of

become a

By making

same thing.

a circular cut with the sharp edge of her forehead, and at the

same time using the saw of her

fore-legs, she de-

taches from the mass a piece of the size she requires.

In giving this stroke she has no hesitation: there are

no

after-touches,

there.

adding a

bit here

and taking

off a bit

Straight away, with one sharp, decisive cut, she

obtains the proper-sized lump.

Next comes

the question of shaping

it.

Clasping

it

as best she can in her short arms, so little adapted, one

would her

think, for

work of

lump of food by

this kind, the

pressure,

[114]

Copris rounds

and pressure only.

Sol-

SELF-DENIAL OF

THE SPANISH

emnly she moves about on

the

still

COPRIS

shapeless mass,

climbs up, climbs down, turns to right and

left,

above

and below, touching and re-touching with unvarying patience.

Finally, after twenty-four hours of this work,

the piece that was all corners has become a perfect sphere,

the size of a plum. scarcely

room

to

There

in her

move, the podgy

her work without once shaking

it

cramped

studio, with

artist has

on

its

base

:

completed

by dint of

time and patience she has obtained the exact sphere which her clumsy tools and her confined space seemed to render impossible.

For a long time she continues with affectionate touches of her satisfied.

to polish foot,

up the globe

but at

last she

is

She climbs to the top, and by simple pressure

hollows out a shallow cavity.

In this basin she lays

an egg.

Then, with extreme caution and delicacy, she brings together the sides of the basin so as to cover the egg,

and

carefully scrapes the sides towards the top, which begins to taper a little

and lengthen

out.

In the end the ball

has become ovoid, or egg-shaped.

The

insect next helps herself to a second piece of the

cut loaf, which she treats in the same way.

The remain-

der serves for a third ovoid, or even a fourth.

The

Sacred Beetle, you remember, made a single pear-shaped

[115]

FABRE'S nest in a

way

BOOK OF INSECTS

was familiar

that

to her,

egg underground while she engaged

The

and then

left

her

in fresh enterprises.

Copris behaves very differently.

Her burrow

almost

is

filled

by three or four ovoid

standing one against the other, with the pointed

nests,

After her long fast one would expect her

end upwards.

to go away, like the Sacred Beetle, in search of food.

On

the contrary, however, she stays where she

And

is.

yet she has eaten nothing since she came underground,

good care not

for she has taken

She will go hungry rather than

for her family.

grubs

let

her

mount guard over

the

suffer.

Her cradles.

object in staying

The pear

mother's desertion. scaly

to touch the food prepared

and swollen.

is

to

of the Sacred Beetle suffers from the It

soon shows cracks, and becomes

After a time

it

But

loses its shape.

the nest of the Copris remains perfect,

owing

to the

She goes from one to the other, feels

mother's care.

them, listens to them, and touches them up at points

where foot

my eye can detect no flaw.

is

more

Her clumsy horn-shod

sensitive in the darkness than

my

sight in

broad daylight: she feels the least threatening of a crack

and attends

to

it

at once, lest the air should enter

dry up her eggs.

She

slips in

and

and out of the narrow

spaces between the cradles, inspecting them with the

utmost

care.

If

I

disturb her she sometimes rubs the

[116]

THE SPANISH COPRIS The hurrozv

almost filled by three or four ovoid nests, standing one against the other, ivith the pointed end iipzvards is

THE SPANISH

SELF-DENIAL OF

body against the edge of her wing-cases, making

tip of her

a soft rustling sound, like a this

COPRIS

murmur

of complaint.

In

way, caring industriously for her cradles, and some-

times snatching a brief sleep beside them

the mother

waits.

The Copris enjoys

privilege for an insect:

the pleasure of

knowing her

She hears her grubs scratching at the shell to

family.

obtain their liberty; she nest which she has little

underground home a rare

in her

is

made

present at the bursting of the

And when

so carefully.

captive, stiffening his legs

and humping

tries to split the ceiling that presses

down on

the

his back,

him,

it is

quite possible that the mother comes to his assistance

by making an assault on the nest from the Being

by

fitted

instinct for repairing

and building, why

should she not also be fitted for demolishing? ever, I will

make no

outside.

assertions, for I

How-

have been unable

to see.

Now

it

is

possible to say that the mother Copris,

being imprisoned in an enclosure from which she cannot escape, stays in the midst of her nest because she has

choice in the matter.

trouble about her

spection?

These

Yet,

if this

were

so,

no

would she

work of polishing and constant

in-

cares evidently are natural to her:

they form part of her habits.

If she

were anxious to

regain her liberty, she would surely roam restlessly round

[117]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

the enclosure, whereas I always see her very quiet

and

absorbed.

To make

certain,

I

have inspected

and hide anywhere she pleased,

if

sand

in the

were what she

rest

wanted; she could climb outside and if

glass jars at

She could go lower down

different times.

food,

my

sit

refreshment became necessary.

down

to fresh

Neither the

prospect of rest in a deeper cave nor the thought of the

sun and of food snakes her leave her family. last of I

them has burst

Until the

his shell she sticks to her post.

always find her beside her cradles.

For four months she

is

without food of any kind.

She was no better than a glutton at

no family

to consider, but

now

first,

when

there

was

she becomes self-denying

The Hen

to the point of prolonged fasting.

sitting

on

her eggs forgets to eat for some weeks; the watchful

Copris mother forgets food for a third part of the year.

The summer

is

The

over.

by man and beast have come to

some depth.

at last, soaking the

ground

After the torrid and dusty days of our

Proven(^al summer,

when

the coolness that revives first

rains so greatly desired

in suspense,

life

is

it.

The heath

pink bells; the autumnal squill

we have

puts out

lifts its little

its

spike

of lilac flowers; the strawberry-tree's coral bells begin to soften; the Sacred Beetle

and the Copris burst

[118]

their

THE SPANISH

SELF-DENIAL OF and come

shells,

fine

to the surface in time to

COFRIS

enjoy the last

weather of the year.

The newly mother,

their

by

released Copris family, accompanied

gradually

emerge

There are three or four of them,

from

underground.

The

five at most.

sons are easily recognised by the greater length of their

horns; but there

from the mother. exists

among

place.

able

is

family.

and to

his

is

nothing to distinguish the daughters

For that matter, the same confusion

An

themselves.

abrupt change has taken

The mother whose devotion was lately so remarknow utterly indifferent to the welfare of her Henceforward each looks

own

interests.

after his

own home

They no longer have anything

do with one another.

The present indifference of the mother not make us forget the wonderful care she for

four months on end.

has lavished

Except among the Bees,

Wasps, and Ants, who spoon-feed them up with every attention

Beetle must

their

young and bring

to their health, I

no other such case of maternal

self-denial.

know

of

Alone and

unaided she provides each of her children with a cake of food, whose crust she constantly repairs, so that

comes the safest of cradles. that she loses all desire

So intense

is

and need of food.

it

be-

her affection

In the dark-

ness of the burrow she watches over her brood for four

[119]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

months, attending to the wants of the egg, the grub, the

undeveloped Beetle, and the full-grown does not return to the glad outer are free.

Thus we

fields.

The Spirit

life till all

see one of the

ples of maternal instinct in a

most

She

her family

brilliant

exam-

humble scavenger of the

breatheth where

[120]

insect.

He

will.

CHAPTER IX TWO STRANGE

GRASSHOPPERS I

THE EMPUSA

THE in

sea,

where

life first

its

depths

many

which were the

But

mal kingdom.

appeared,

earliest

specimens of the ani-

the land has almost entirely lost

The few

One

of these

is

This

insect,

Another

in its

is

the

that remain

the Praying Mantis,

whose remarkable shape and habits described to you.

I

have already

Empusa.

undeveloped or larval

certainly the strangest creature in all Provence

swaying thing of

tomed

so fantastic

my neighbourhood are it

to be in

winter

up if

it.

The

much impressed by

call it "the

:

it,

to

is

a slim,

Devilkin."

children of its

startling

They imagine

some way connected with witchcraft.

comes across spring

so

state,

an appearance that unaccus-

fingers dare not lay hold of

shape that they

preserves

of those curious shapes

the strange forms of other days. are mostly insects.

still

One

though never in great numbers, in the

May;

in

autumn; and sometimes

the sun be strong.

The tough

[121]

in

grasses of the

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

waste-lands, the stunted bushes which catch the sun-

shine and are sheltered from the wind by a few heaps of

Empusa's favourite dwelling.

stones, are the chilly I

will tell you, as well as

The

body

tail-end of her

up over her back

surface of the crook)

is

is

legs, at the

and the lower

to say, of course, the

upper

covered with pointed, leaf-shaped

The

arranged in three rows.

on four long, thin

like.

always twisted and curved

so as to form a crook,

surface of her body (that

scales,

is

what she looks

can,

I

legs, like stilts;

crook

is

propped

and on each of these

point where the thigh joins the shin,

is

a

curved, projecting blade not unlike that of a cleaver.

In front of this crook on there rises suddenly lar

—

stilts, this

— very long and almost perpendicu-

the stiff corselet or bust.

as a straw,

and

four-legged stool,

at the

end of it

from that of the Mantis.

It is is

round and slender

the hunting-trap, copied

This consists of a harpoon

sharper than a needle, and a cruel vice with jaws toothed like a saw. is

The jaw,

or blade

formed by the upper arm,

hollowed into a groove and

on each

side,

with smaller indentations

The jaw formed by

the fore-arm

way, but the teeth are

When

at rest, the

saw of

of the upper arm.

would be

carries five long spikes

is

grooved

finer, closer,

the fore-arm

If the

in

in the

and more fits

between.

same

regular.

into the groove

machine were only larger

a fearful instrument of torture.

[122]

it

—a TWO STRANGE GRASSHOPPERS The head queer head

What

in keeping with this arsenal.

is

A

is!

it

pointed face, with curled mous-

taches; large, goggle eyes; between

them the blade of a

and on the forehead a mad, unheard-of thing

dirk;

sort of tall mitre,

a

—

an extravagant head-dress that juts

forward, spreading right and left into peaked wings.

What

does the Devilkin want with that monstrous

pointed cap, as magnificent as any ever worn by astrol-

The

oger of old?

The

use of

it

will appear presently.

creature's colouring at this time

As

chiefly grey.

develops

it

is

commonplace

becomes faintly striped

it

with pale green, white, and pink. If

you come across

bushes, at

it

sways upon

you knowingly,

over

But

pointed face. threatening corselet

mighty

it

shoulder.

its

is

its

twists

if

At

stilts,

it

wags

head

its

mitre round and peers

its

to see mischief

you try

in

its

to take hold of it this

disappears

once;

at

the

raised

lowered, and the creature makes off with

it

helping

along with

itself

clutches the twigs.

ticed eye, however, the

penned

four

You seem

attitude

strides,

with which

bramble-

this fantastic object in the

Empusa

If is

its

weapons,

you have a prac-

easily caught,

and

in a cage of wire-gauze.

first I

was uncertain how

kins were very

little,

a

them Locusts suited

month to

to feed them.

or

two old

their

[123]

size,

My Devil-

at most.

the

I

gave

smallest

I

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

They not only

could find.

refused

but were

them,

Any thoughtless Locust that meekly approached an Empusa met with a bad reception. The afraid of them.

pointed mitre was lowered, and an angry thrust sent the

The

Locust rolling.

As the

weapon.

Ram

Empusa butts with I

wizard's cap, then,

a defensive

is

charges with his forehead, so the

her mitre.

next offered her a live House-fly, and this time the

The moment

dinner was accepted at once.

the Fly

came

within reach the watchful Devilkin turned her head, bent her corselet slantwise, harpooned the Fly, and gripped

No

between her two saws.

it

Cat could pounce more

quickly on a Mouse.

To my enough

surprise I

found that the Fly was not only

for a meal, but

enough for the whole day, and

often for several days.

extremely abstemious.

These fierce-looking

insects are

was expecting them

to be ogres,

I

and found them with the After a time even a

through

the

winter

delicate appetites of invalids.

Midge

failed to tempt them,

months

they

fasted

and

altogether.

When

the spring came, however, they were ready to in-

dulge

in a

small piece of Cabbage Butterfly or Locust;

attacking their prey invariably in the neck,

like

the

Mantis.

The young Empusa captivity.

In

its

has one very curious habit

cage of wire-gauze

[124]

its

when

attitude

is

in

the

TWO STRANGE GRASSHOPPERS same from

first

to last,

and a most strange attitude

by the claws of

It grips the wire

its

it is.

four hind-legs, and

hangs motionless, back downwards, with the whole of

body suspended from those four move,

its

mesh of

points.

it

wishes to

harpoons open in front, stretch out, grasp a the wire,

and

This process naturally

pull.

draws the insect along the wire,

Then the jaws close back And this upside-down cages, for ten it is

position,

which seems to us so

her moments of

in

my

The Fly on

the

It continues,

months without a break.

true,

upside down.

still

against the chest.

no short while.

trying, lasts for

ceiling,

If

its

adopts the same position; but she has

She

rest.

way, she spreads herself

she walks in the usual

flies,

The Empusa,

the sun.

flat in

on the other hand, remains in her curious attitude for ten

Hanging from

months on end, without a pause.

wire netting, back downwards, she hunts,

eats, digests,

dozes, gets through all the experiences of an insect's

and

She clambers up while she

finally dies.

young; she

falls

This custom

down is

the

is still

life,

quite

in her old age, a corpse.

all the

more remarkable

practised only in captivity.

It

is

in that

it is

not an instinctive

habit of the rape; for out of doors the insect, except at rare intervals, stands

on the bushes back upwards.

Strange as the performance that

is

is,

I

know

of a similar case

even more peculiar: the attitude of certain [125]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

A

Wasps and Bees during the night's rest. Wasp, an Ammophila with red fore-legs,

my

is

plentiful in

enclosure towards the end of August, and likes to

sleep in one of the lavender borders. cially after a stifling

day when a storm

At dusk, espebrewing,

is

sure to find the strange sleeper settled there. a

particular

more eccentric attitude chosen

I

Never was

The

for a night's rest.

jaws bite right into the lavender-stem.

Its

supplies a firmer hold than a round stalk

With

this

stiflly

at full length, with legs folded.

am

square shape

would

give.

one and only prop the Wasp's body juts out It

forms a right

angle with the stalk, so that the whole weight of the insect rests

upon

the -mandibles.

The Ammophila in this

is

enabled by

way, extended

in space.

its

mighty jaws

It takes

think of a thing like that, which upsets

sway

her swinging for a

an animal to our previous

Should the threatening storm burst and

ideas of rest. the stalk

all

to sleep

in the

wind, the sleeper

hammock;

moment

Wasp's jaws,

is

not troubled by

at most, she presses her fore-legs

against the tossing stem.

Perhaps the

like the Bird's toes, possess the

power of

gripping more tightly in proportion to the violence of the

wind.

However

that

may

Wasps and Bees who adopt

be, there are several kinds of this

strange position,

—

grip-

ping a stalk with their mandibles, and sleeping with their bodies outstreched and their legs folded back.

[126]

This

TWO STRANGE GRASSHOPPERS state of things

makes us wonder what

it is

that really con-

stitutes rest.

May

About the middle of

the

into her full-grown condition.

markable

She

still

bust, the scales

in figure

attire

She

is

is

transformed

even more

re-

than the Praying Mantis.

keeps some of her youthful eccentricities

—

the

weapons on her knees, and the three rows of

But she

on the lower surface of her body.

no longer twisted upon.

and

Empusa

into a crook,

and

is

is

now

comelier to look

Large pale-green wings, pink at the shoulder and

swift in flight, cover the white and green stripes that orn-

ament

the

body below.

The male Empusa, who

is

a

dandy, adorns himself, like some of the Moths, with feathery antennae.

When,

in the spring, the peasant meets the

Empusa,

common Praying Mantis, who is a autumn. They are so much alike that

he thinks he sees the

daughter of the

one would expect them to have the same habits.

In fact,

any one might be tempted, led away by the extraordinary armour, to suspect the

Empusa

of a

mode

more atrocious than that of the Mantis. be a mistake

:

of life even

This would

for all their war-like aspect the

Empusae

are peaceful creatures.

Imprisoned in their wire-gauze

bell-jar,

either

in

groups of half a dozen or in separate couples, they at no time lose their placidity.

Even [127]

in their full-grown state

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

they arc very small eaters, and content themselves with a

fly

or

two

as their daily ration.

Big eaters are naturally quarrelsome.

The Mantis,

gorged with Locusts, soon becomes irritated and shows

The En>pusa, with

fight.

peace.

She indulges

in

her frugal meals,

is

a lover of

no quarrels with her neighbours,

nor does she pretend to be a ghost, with a view to frightening them, after the

manner of

never unfurls her wings suddenly nor pufFs startled Adder.

She has never the

She

the Mantis.

like

a

least inclination for

the cannibal banquets at which a sister, after being

worsted in a

fight, is

Nor does

eaten up.

Such

Mantis, devour her husband.

she, like the

atrocities are here

unknown.

The organs

of the two insects are the same.

profound moral

any arise

differences,

therefore, are not

difference in the bodily form.

from the difference

matter of

fact, softens character, in

over-feeding brutalises

meat and strong drink outbursts

hermit

in food.

The Mantis

lives is

due

Possibly they

to

may

Simple living, as a animals as in men;

The glutton, gorged with very common cause of savage

it.

—a

—could never be

who

These

as gentle as the self-denying

on bread dipped into a cup of milk.

a glutton:

the

Empusa

lives the simple

life.

And

yet,

even when

this

is

[128]

granted, one

is

forced to

TWO STRANGE GRASSHOPPERS Why, when

ask a further question.

the

two

insects are

almost exactly the same in form, and might be expected to

have the same needs, should the one have an enormous

appetite and the other such temperate tell us, in their

told us already

pend

entirely

:

own

what many

fashion,

that inclinations

govern matter

rise other

insects

have

and habits do not de-

High above

upon anatomy.

They

ways?

the laws that

laws that govern instincts.

II

THE WHITE-FACED DECTICUS The White-faced Decticus Grasshopper clan in

an

my

stands at the head of the

district,

both as a singer and as

He

insect of imposing presence.

has a grey body,

a pair of powerful mandibles, and a broad ivory face.

Without being some

plentiful, he

In the height of summer

to hunt.

hopping

neither difficult nor weari-

is

in the

we

find

long grass, especially at the foot of the

sunny rocks where the turpentine-tree takes root. The Greek word dectikos means biting, fond of

The Decticus

is

given to biting.

him

well named.

It is

Mind your

finger

hopper gets hold of

it

:

he will rip

His powerful jaw, of which

I

biting.

eminently an insect if this

it till

sturdy Grass-

the blood comes.

have to beware when

I

handle him, and the large muscles that swell out his [129]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS up leathery

cheeks, are evidently intended for cutting

prey. I

find,

when

the

Decticus

is

imprisoned

my

in

menagerie, that any fresh meat tasting of Locust or

Grasshopper suits is

The blue-winged Locust

his needs.

As soon

the most frequent victim.

introduced into the cage there if

the Dectici are hungry.

is

as the food

is

an uproar, especially

They stamp

about, and dart

forward clumsily, being hampered by their long shanks.

Some

of the Locusts are caught at once, but others with

desperate bounds rush to the top of the cage, and there

hang on out of

the reach of the Grasshopper,

stout to climb so high. their fate.

who

is

too

But they have only postponed

Either because they are tired, or because

they are tempted by the green stuff below, they will

come down, and the Dectici

will

be after them im-

mediately.

This Grasshopper, though

his intellect

sesses the art of scientific killing of

He

instances elsewhere.

neck, and, to

make

it

dull, pos-

which we have seen

always spears his prey

in the

helpless as quickly as possible,

begins by biting the nerves that enable is

is

a very wise method, for the Locust

to

is

hard to

Even when beheaded he goes on hopping. some who, though half-eaten, kicked out that they succeeded in escaping.

[130]

move.

it

I

It kill.

have seen

so desperately

THE WHITE-FACED DECTICUS The Greek zvord

dectikos

Decticiis is -well

means

named.

It is

The biting, fond of biting. eminently an insect given

to biting

•iAT

vui\\".'\

"^0

^^W0^

\

>. r^

^

TWO STRANGE GRASSHOPPERS With

his

weakness for Locusts, and also for certain

seeds that are harmful to unripe corn, these Grasshoppers

might be of some service

more of them.

to agriculture if only there

But nowadays

ing the fruits of the earth interest in our eyes

is

habits It

now

his assistance in preserv-

His chief

very feeble.

the fact that he

He

the remotest times.

is

were

is

a memorial of

gives us a vague glimpse of

out of use.

was thanks

to the Decticus that I first learnt one

or two things about

young Grasshoppers.

Instead of packing their eggs in casks of hardened

foam, like the Locust and the Mantis, or laying them in a twig like the Cicada, Grasshoppers plant

them

like

seeds in the earth.

The mother

Decticus has a tool at the end of her

body with which she In

scrapes out a little hole in the

number of

this hole she lays a certain

soil.

eggs, then

loosens the dust round the side of the hole and rams

down with

her tool, very

much

earth in a hole with a stick. the well,

as

we should pack

In this

way

and then sweeps and smooths

the

she covers

it

the

up

ground above

it.

She then goes for a

by way of

recreation.

where she has already

little

walk

in the

neighbourhood,

Soon she comes back

to the place

laid her eggs, and, very near the

original spot, which she recognises quite well, begins the

[131]

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS work

afresh.

watch her for an hour

If I

I

see her

go

through this whole performance, including the short neighbourhood, no

stroll in the

less

The

than five times.

points where she lays the eggs are always very close together.

When The

eggs

everything lie singly,

finished

I

without any

examine the cell or

little pits.

sheath to protect

There are about sixty of them altogether, pale

them.

lilac-grey in colour,

When I

is

I

I

like a shuttle.

began to observe the ways of the Decticus

was anxious

August

and shaped

to

watch the hatching, so at the end of

gathered plenty of eggs, and placed them in

a small glass jar with a layer of sand.

Without

suffer-

ing any apparent change they spent eight months there

under cover, sheltered from the

frosts, the

showers, and

the overpowering heat of the sun, which they

would be

obliged to endure out of doors.

When June

came, the eggs in

of being about to hatch.

my

jar

showed no sign

They were

just as

I

had

gathered them nine months before, neither wrinkled nor tarnished, but on the contrary wearing a most healthy look.

Yet

in the fields,

in

June young Dectici

are often to be

and sometimes even those of

larger growth.

What was the reason of this delay, I wondered. Then an idea came to me. The eggs of the hopper are planted

like seeds in the earth,

[132]

met

Grass-

were they are

TWO STRANGE GRASSHOPPERS exposed, without any protection, to snow and rain.

Those

in

my

had spent two-thirds of the year

jar

state of comparative dryness.

sown

Since they were

make them

like seeds, perhaps they needed, to

the moisture that seeds require to

make them

in a

hatch, sprout.

I resolved to try. I

placed at the bottom of some glass tubes a pinch

of backward eggs taken from top

I

heaped lightly a layer of

my

collection,

fine,

damp

and on the

sand.

I

closed

them

the tubes with plugs of wet cotton, to keep the air in

Any would have supposed me

one seeing

constantly moist.

my

preparations

to be a botanist experimenting

with seeds.

My

hopes were

fulfilled.

In the warmth and mois-

They

ture the eggs soon showed signs of hatching.

began

to swell,

and the bursting of the

dently close at hand. a tedious

shell

in order to

evi-

spent a fortnight in keeping

I

watch at every hour of the day, for

surprise the

was

had

I

to

young Decticus actually leaving the egg, solve a question that had long been in my

mind.

The

question was

as a rule, about

Now

this.

The Grasshopper

is

buried,

an inch below the surface of the

the new-born Decticus, hopping

awkwardly

soil.

in the

grass at the approach of summer, has, like the full-grown insect, a pair of

very long tentacles, as slender as hairs;

[133]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

while he carries behind him two extraordinary legs, two

enormous hinged jumping-poles that would be very convenient for ordinary walking.

how

I

wished

to find out

the feeble little creature set to work, with this

cumbrous luggage,

to

make

By what means rough soil? With

could

the

its

atom of sand can

break,

way

its

earth.

it

to the surface of the

clear a passage through

feathery antennae, which an

and

its

immense shanks, which

are disjointed by the least effort, this mite

incapable of freeing

As

I

is

plainly

itself.

have already told you, the Cicada and the

Praying Mantis, when issuing, the one from

and the other from like

in-

an overall.

It

his nest,

his twig,

wear a protective covering

seemed to me that the

little

Grass-

hopper, too, must come out through the sand in a simpler,

more compact form than he wears when he hops about the

lawn on the day

Nor was

I

after his birth.

mistaken.

The

Decticus, like the others,

wears an overall for the occasion. creature

is

The

tiny, flesh-white

cased in a scabbard which keeps the six legs

flattened against the body, stretching backwards, inert.

In order to slip more easily through the are tied

up beside him; while

soil his

shanks

the antennae, those other

inconvenient appendages, are pressed motionless against the parcel.

The head

is

very

much bent [134]

against the chest.

With

TWO STRANGE GRASSHOPPERS the big black specks that are going to be inexpressive, rather swollen mask,

The neck opens wide

helmet.

and

eyes,

its

suggests a diver's

it

at the back, and, with a

slow throbbing, by turns swells and

means of

its

sinks.

by

It is

throbbing protrusion through the opening at

this

the back of the head that the new-born insect moves.

When

the

sand a

little

lump

is flat,

way and

the head pushes back the

slips into it

Then

the swelling

which

sticks firmly in the hole.

is

by digging a tiny

Thus

pit.

blown out and becomes a knob This supplies the

sistance necessary for the grub to

push.

damp

a step forward

is

draw up

made.

re-

its

back and

Each

thrust of

upon

the up-

It is pitiful to see this tender creature, still

almost

the motor-blister helps the little Decticus

ward path. knocking with

colourless,

the rough is

soil.

With

its

swollen neck and ramming

flesh that is

not yet hardened

painfully fighting stone; and fighting

fully that in the space of a morning

it

In this

way

so success-

makes a

either straight or winding, an inch long

an average straw.

it

and

it

as

gallery,

wide as

the harassed

insect

reaches the surface.

Before

it is

halts for a

journey.

altogether freed from the soil the struggler

moment,

to recover

from the

Then, with renewed strength,

effort: it swells the protrusion at the

[135]

effects of the it

makes a

back of

its

last

head as

FABRE'S far as it

it

will go,

The

so far.

and bursts the sheath that has protected

creature throws off

Here, then, quite pale

BOOK OF INSECTS

is

still,

its

overall.

the Decticus in his youthful shape,

but darker the next day, and a regular

blackamoor compared with the full-grown

As a

insect.

prelude to the ivory face of his riper age he wears a

narrow white stripe under

his hinder thighs.

Little Decticus, hatched before for

Many

you very harshly!

my

eyes, life opens

of your relatives must die

of exhaustion before winning their freedom. tubes

up

the struggle half-way

with a sort of silky

poor

little

my

numbers who, being stopped by a grain of

I see

sand, give

In

remains.

and become furred

Mildew soon absorbs their And when carried out without my

fluff.

help, their journey to the surface

must be even more

dangerous, for the soil out of doors

is

and baked

coarse

by the sun.

The leaf I

I

little

white-striped nigger nibbles at the lettuce-

give him, and leaps about gaily in the cage where

have housed him.

I

could easily rear him, but he

would not teach me much more. liberty.

him

So

I restore

In return for what he has taught

the grass

and the Locusts

For he taught

me

in the

me

him I

to

give

garden.

that Grasshoppers,

in

order to

leave the ground where the eggs are laid, wear a tem-

porary form which keeps those too cumbrous parts, the

[136]

TWO STRANGE GRASSHOPPERS long legs and antennae, swathed together in a sheath. He taught me, too, that this mummy-like creature, fit only to lengthen and shorten

itself a little, has for its

means of travelling a hernia

in the neck, a throbbing

blister first

—an

original piece of

observed the Decticus,

I

mechanism which, when had never seen used

aid to progression.

[137]

as

I

an

CHAPTER X COMMON WASPS

THEIR CLEVERNESS AND STUPIDITY

WISHING little

his

day

one

out,

good sight and

to observe a in

son Paul,

Wasp's nest

September,

who

me

helps

We

undivided attention.

with

I

go

my

with his look with

interest at the edges of the footpaths.

Suddenly Paul

cries:

"A Wasp's

nest!

A

Wasp's

For, twenty yards away,

nest, as sure as anything!"

he has seen rising from the ground, shooting up and flying away, object, as

now one and

then another swiftly moving

though some tiny crater

in

the grass were

hurling them forth.

We approach

the spot with caution, fearing to attract

the attention of the fierce creatures.

At

the entrance-

door of their dwelling, a round opening large enough to

admit a man's thumb, the inmates come and go, busily passing one another as they

Burr!

A shudder runs

unpleasant time

fly in

through

we should

me

opposite directions. at the

have, did

[138]

thought of the

we

incite these

COMMON WASPS by inspecting them too

irritable warriors to attack us

Without further

closely.

cost us too dear,

we mark

the spot,

at nightfall.

By

nest will have

come home from the

The

and resolve

to return

that time all the inhabitants of the

conquest of a nest of

fields.

Common Wasps would

rather a serious undertaking certain

might

investigation, which

if

one did not act with a

Half a pint of

amount of prudence.

be

petrol,

a reed-stump nine inches long, and a good-sized

lump

—such

of clay or loam, kneaded to the right consistency are

my

weapons, which

I

have come

to consider the best

simplest, after various trials with less successful

and

means.

The suffocating method is measures

wanted view

which

I

necessary, unless I use costly

cannot

to place a live

afford.

Wasp's nest

in a glass case with

to observing the habits of the inmates, he

helpers

who were used

willing, for a

to the painful job,

handsome reward,

science at the cost of their skins.

have to pay with

my own

ging up the nest I desire. inhabitants.

use petrol because

in order to

make my

employed

and were

to serve the

But

I,

a

man

of

who should

skin, think twice before digI

begin by suffocating the

Dead Wasps do not

method, but perfectly I

When Reaumur

sting.

It is a brutal

safe. its effects

are not too violent,

and

observations I wish to leave a small

[139]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS The

nuniijer of survivors.

duce

question

into the cavity containing the

it

how

is

to intro-

Wasp's

nest.

A

vestibule, or entrance-passage, about nine inches long,

and very nearly horizontal, leads

To

cells.

pour the petrol straight into the mouths of

would be

this tunnel

a blunder that might have serious

consequences later on.

For so small a quantity of petrol

would be absorbed by the the nest;

underground

to the

soil

and would never reach

and next day, when we might think we were

digging safely, we should find an infuriated swarm

under the spade.

The

bit

serted into the passage

and

lump

and

forms a water-tight funnel,

as quickly as possible.

without the

loss of

Then we

fix

the

We have nothing to do now but wait.

When we I

in-

of kneaded clay into the entrance-hole, like a

stopper.

and

it

carries the petrol to the cavern

a drop,

WTien

of reed prevents this mishap.

Paul

are going to perform this operation

set out, carrying a lantern

and a basket with the

implements, at nine o'clock on some mild, moonlit evening.

While

the farm-house

Dogs

each other in the distance, and the Screech in the olive-trees, their

symphony

insects.

He

and the

are yelping at

Owl

is

hooting

Italian Crickets are performing

in the bushes,

Paul and

I

asks questions, eager to learn,

[140]

chat about

and

I

tell

COMMON WASPS him

the little that I know.

of Wasp-hunting that

we

So delightful are our nights think

or the chance of being stung

The pushing

come

there

of the loss of sleep

I

of the reed into the hole

delicate matter.

unknown

little

is

the most

Since the direction of the passage

is

some

and sometimes

sentries

Wasp's guard-house

to attack the

To prevent this one of us

keeps watch,

flying out of the

operator's hand.

hesitation,

and drives away the enemy with a handkerchief. after all, a swelling on one's hand, even is

not

much

As the

pay

to

if it

I

—

for an idea.

petrol streams into the cavern

the door

we

must be closed with the wet

the clod kicked once or twice with the heel to

There

istopper solid.

the present.

With dawn.

Off

is

hear the

we go

all night,

home while we will make them

clay,

and

make

the

to bed.

we

are back on the spot at

wise to be early, because

have been out

Then

nothing more to be done for

a spade and a trowel It is

And

does smart,

threatening buzz of the population underground.

quick

is

many Wasps

and will want

are digging.

The

will

to get into their

chill of the

morning

less fierce.

In front of the entrance-passage, in which the reed

we dig a trench wide enough to allow us movement. Then the side of this ditch is carefully

is still

free

sticking,

[141]

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS cut away, slice after slice, until, at a depth of about

twenty inches, the Wasp's nest

revealed, uninjured,

is

slung from the roof of a spacious cavity.

indeed a superb achievement, as large as a

It is

sized pumpkin.

It

fair-

hangs free on every side except at

the top, where various roots, mostly of couch-grass, penetrate the thickness of the wall Its

shape

is

and fasten the nest

round wherever the ground has been

and of the same consistency

all

through.

where the Wasps meet with obstacles the sphere becomes

A

firmly.

more

In stony

soft, soil,

in their digging,

or less misshapen.

space of a hand's-breadth

is

always

left

open be-

tween the paper nest and the sides of the underground This space

vault.

builders

the wide street along which the

is

move unhindered

at their continual task of

enlarging and strengthening the nest, and the passage that leads to the outer world opens into

neath the nest

is

much

a

larger

it.

Under-

unoccupied space,

rounded into a big basin, so that the wrapper of the nest can be enlarged as fresh

cells are

added.

This cavity

also serves as a dust-bin for refuse.

The

cavity was

that there

do not nest

is

dug by

no doubt

;

Wasps

themselves.

for holes so large

exist ready-made.

may have

the

The

Of

and so regular

original foundress of the

seized on some cavity

made by

a Mole,

to help her at the beginning; but the greater part of the

[142]

COMMON WASPS enormous vault was the work of the Wasps.

Yet

is

not a scrap of rubbish outside the entrance.

is

the mass of earth that has been It has

that

it

there

Where

removed?

been spread over such a large surface of ground

Thousands and thousands of

unnoticed.

is

Wasps work

at digging the cellar,

and enlarging

They fly up

that becomes necessary.

it

as

to the outer world,

each carrying a particle of earth, which they drop on the

ground

at

some distance from the

Being scattered in

nest, in all directions.

way

the earth leaves no visible

made

of a thin, flexible material

this

trace.

The Wasp's

nest

is

brown paper, formed of

like

particles of

wood.

It is

streaked with bands, of which the colour varies according

wood

to the

ous sheet

But

If

it

would give

were made in a single continu-

little

protection against the cold.

Common Wasp, like the ballon-maker, knows heat may be preserved by means of a cushion of

the

that air

it

used.

contained by several wrappers.

paper-pulp into broad are laid on in

numerous

coarse blanket, thick filled

with stagnant

shelter

The

must be truly fierce

on the same

scales,

which overlap loosely and

layers.

and spongy air.

So she makes her

The whole forms a in texture

and well

The temperature under

this

tropical in hot weather.

Hornet, chief of the Wasps, builds her nest principle.

In the hollow of a willow, or

[143]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

within some empty granary, she makes, out of fragments of wood, a very brittle kind of striped yellow cardboard.

Her

nest

is

wrapped round with many

layers of this

substance, laid on in the form of broad convex scales

which are welded

wide intervals

The Wasp,

in

to

Between them

one another.

which

air

is

are

held motionless.

then, often acts in accordance with the

She employs

laws of physics and geometry.

air,

a non-

conductor of heat, to keep her home warm; she made blankets before

man

thought of

it;

she builds the outer

walls of the nest in the shape that gives her the largest

amount

'of

form of her

And

room

in the smallest

cell, too,

difficulty.

wonderful architects

are,

they

their stupidity in the face of the smallest

On

to behave like

the one

men

hand

their instincts teach

of science; but on the other

that they are entirely without the I

the

in

she economises space and material.

yet, clever as these

amaze us by

wrapper; and

have convinced myself of

power

this fact

ot

it is

them plain

reflection.

by various experi-

ments.

The Common Wasp

has chanced to set up house be-

side one of the walks in

me I

to

my

enclosure, which enables

experiment with a bell-glass.

In the open fields

could not use this appliance, because the boys of the

country-side

would soon smash

it.

One

night,

was dark and the Wasps had gone home, [144]

I

when

all

placed the

COMMON WASPS The Wasp's

nest is made of a thin, flexible materia! like brozvn paper, formed of particles of wood

COMMON WASPS glass over the entrance of the burrow, after

tening the

soil.

When

the

first flat-

Wasps began work

again

next morning and found themselves checked in their flight,

would they succeed

making a passage under

Would

the rim of the glass?

who were

in

these sturdy creatures,

capable of digging a spacious cavern, realise

that a very short underground tunnel

free?

That was

bell-glass,

I

them

found the bright sunlight falling

and the workers ascending

from underground, eager

They butted

set

the question.

The next morning on the

would

crowds

go in search of provisions.

to

against the

in

transparent wall,

tumbled

down, picked themselves up again, and whirled round

and round

in a crazy

wandered peevishly dwelling. hotter.

swarm.

at

Some, weary of dancing,

random and then re-entered

their

Others took their places as the sun grew

But not one of them, not a

single one, scratched

with her feet at the base of the glass

circle.

This means

of escape was beyond them.

Meanwhile a few Wasps who had spent out of doors were coming

round the

in

from the

bell-glass they flew;

hesitation, one of

them decided

and

fields.

at last,

to dig

the night

Round and after much

under the edge.

Others followed her example, a passage was easily

Wasps went in. Then I closed the passage with some earth. The narrow opening, if seen opened, and the

[145]

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS from within, might help the Wasps

to escape,

and

I

wished to leave the prisoners the honour of winning their liberty.

However poor

Wasps' power of reasoning,

the

thought their escape was

now

Those who had

probable.

would surely show

just entered

I

way; they would

the

teach the others to dig below the wall of glass. I

was too

hasty.

Of

ample there was not a

learning by experience or exInside the glass not an

sign.

The

attempt was made to dig a tunnel.

round and round, but showed no enter-

tion whirled

They floundered

prise.

about, while every day numbers

died from famine and heat.

one was

insect popula-

left

alive.

A

At the end of a week not

heap of corpses covered the

ground.

The Wasps returning from way in, because the power through the

the field could find their

of scenting their house

and searching

soil,

for

it,

is

one of their

natural instincts, one of the means of defence given to

them.

There

no need for thought or reasoning here:

is

the earthy obstacle has been familiar to every since

Wasps

came

first

But those who

into the world.

are within the bell-glass have no such

instinct to help them.

and finding daylight think their aim

Wasp

is

Their aim

is

to get into the light,

in their transparent prison they

accomplished.

[146]

In spite of constant

COMMON WASPS collisions

with the glass they spend themselves in vainly

trying to fly farther in the direction of the sunshine.

There

is

nothing in the past to teach them what to do.

They keep

blindly to their familiar habits, and die.

II

SOME OF THEIR HABITS If

we open

inside, a

the thick envelope of the nest

number of combs,

of these layers varies.

may be

of the

on the lower surface.

ten, or

world the young grow,

the end of

The opening

even more.

sleep,

solid pillars.

Towards

the season there cells is

shall find,

or layers of cells, lying one

and fastened together by

belo-w the other

The number

we

In this strange

and receive

their food

head downwards.

The

various storeys, or layers of combs, are divided

by open

spaces;

and between the outer envelope and

the stack of combs there are doorways through which

every part can be easily reached.

There

a continual

is

coming and going of nurses, attending to the grubs the

cells.

On

one side of the outer wrapper

is

the gate

of the city, a modest unadorned opening, lost

the thin scales of the envelope.

Facing

it is

in

among

the entrance

to the tunnel that leads from the cavity to the world

at large.

[147]

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS In a

Wasp community

Wasps whose whole

a large

number of

spent in work.

It is their

there

life is

is

business to enlarge the nest as the population grows;

and though they have no grubs of

own, they nurse

their

the grubs in the cells with the greatest care

Wishing

and

to watch their operations,

would take place

and industry.

also to see

at the approach of winter,

under cover one October a few fragments of a

I

what

placed

nest, con-

taking a large number of eggs and grubs, with about a hundred workers to take care of them.

To make my

inspection easier

and placed them

turned upwards.

cells

of

the

usual

prisoners, set to

I

separated the combs

with the openings of the

side,

This arrangement, the reverse

who soon recovered from

work

as if nothing I

annoy

my

the disturbance

and

not seem

did

position,

should wish to build

and

by

side

I

to

had happened.

gave them a

fed them with honey.

In case they

slip of soft

wood;

The underground cave

in

which the nest hangs out of doors was represented by a large earthen pan under a wire-gauze cover.

movable cardboard dome provided darkness

Wasps, and

—when removed—

The Wasps' work went on

A for

re-

the

light for

me.

as

had never been

if

it

The worker-Wasps attended to the grubs building at the same time. They began to

interrupted.

and the

raise a wall

round the most thickly populated combs; [148]

COMMON WASPS and

it

new

envelope, to replace the one ruined by

seemed

though they might intend to build a

as

But they were not

third of the

of paper scales, which

envelope of the nest

made

they

spade.

repairing; they were simply carrying

on the work from the point at which

Over about a

my

I

interrupted

it.

comb they made an arched roof

would have been joined

if it

had been

to the

The

intact.

tent

sheltered only a small part of the disk of

cells.

As touch

for the it.

To

wood

I

provided for them, they did not

raw material, which would have been

this

troublesome to work, they preferred the old

were no longer

in use.

prepared; and, with a

In these the fibres were already saliva

little

in their mandibles, they turned

highest quality. into pieces, built.

and a

The uninhabited

cells

could be

little

grinding

them into pulp of the cells

and out of the ruins a

New

cells that

made

were nibbled

sort of

in the

canopy was

same way

if

necessary.

Even more

interesting than this roofing-work

feeding of the grubs.

One

is

the

could never weary of the

sight of the rough fighters turned into tender nurses.

The

barracks become a creche.

grubs are reared!

we

If

With what

we watch one

care those

of the busy

Wasps

shall see her, with her crop swollen with honey, halt

in front of a cell.

With

a thoughtful air she bends

[149]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

her head into the opening, and touches the grub with the

The grub wakes and gapes when the mother-bird returns

tip of her antenna. like a

fledgling

at her, to the

nest with food.

For a moment the awakened larva swings

and to

fro:

it is

blind,

and

trying to feel the food brought

is

The two mouths meet;

it.

from the nurse's mouth

enough

The

to

a drop of syrup passes

the

moment: now

for the

head to

its

That

nurseling's.

for the next

is

Wasp-baby.

nurse moves on, to continue her duties elsewhere.

Meanwhile neck.

the grub

For, while

rary swelling on

whatever

it is

which acts as a

down

trickles

own

its

being fed, there appears a tempo-

chest,

its

licking the base of

is

from

the

bib,

and catches

mouth.

After

swallowing the chief part of the meal the grub gathers up the crumbs that have fallen on

Then

its bib.

ing disappears; and the grub, withdrawing a into

its cell,

When

resumes

fed in

the swelllittle

way

sweet slumbers.

its

my cage

the

Wasp-grubs have

their heads

up, and what falls from their mouths collects naturally

on their

bibs.

heads down.

When But

I

fed in the nest they have their

have no doubt that even

position the bib serves

By

slightly

purpose.

its

bending

in this

its

head the grub can always de-

posit on the projecting bib a portion of the overflowing

mouthful,

which

is

sticky

enough

[150]

to

remain

there.

COMMON WASPS Moreover,

it

quite possible that the nurse herself

is

places a portion of her helping on this spot.

be above or below the mouth, right

it

down, the bib

fulfils its office

of the food.

It is a

much

because of the sticky nature

and enables the grub

rations,

less leisurely

gluttony.

when

cages everything

and nurselings seem

is

it

Polistes,

to thrive

on

this diet,

and

an insect who is

is

absolutely like a

at once recognised

approaches the honey the

Wasps

if

any

Even

Wasp

the

in shape

and mobbed

are sipping.

in-

doomed.

is

appears, are far from hospitable.

colour,

is

Both nurses

refused but honey.

truder ventures too near to the combs he

Wasps,

fruit

mostly fed upon minced Fly; but in

scarce, the grubs are

and

to

fashion and without too

In the open country, late in the year

my

or upside

temporary saucer which shortens the

work of serving out the feed in a more or

way up

Whether

if

she

Her

ap-

pearance takes nobody in for a moment, and unless she

meet with a violent death.

No,

not a good thing to enter a Wasps' nest, even

when

hastily retires she will it is

the stranger wears the same uniform, pursues the same industry,

and

is

almost a member of the same corpo-

ration.

Again and again to strangers.

he

is

I

have seen the savage reception given

If the stranger be of sufficient importance

stabbed, and his body

is

dragged from the nest and

[151]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS But

flung into the refuse-heap below.

the poisoned dag-

ger seems to be reserved for great occasions. the grub of a Saw-fly

among

the

Wasps

If

I

throw

they show great

surprise at the black-and-green dragon; they snap at

boldly,

and wound

to haul

it

it,

but without stinging

The dragon

away.

resists,

comb by

its

hooks, holding on

and now by

its

hind-legs.

the

weakened by

At

wounds,

its

dragged bleeding

the

to

couple of hours to dislodge

anchoring

now by

its

last the grub,

torn from the

is

They

it.

refuse-pit.

It

it

try

itself to

fore-legs

however,

comb and

has taken a

it.

Supposing, on the other hand,

I

throw on to the combs

a certain imposing grub that lives under the bark of cherry-trees, five or six

hugh dead body

is

much

heavy

too

it is

it

with

But the

dead.

to be carried out of

So the Wasps, finding they cannot move

the grub, eat till

will at once prick

In a couple of minutes

their stings.

the nest.

Wasps

it

where

it lies,

or at least reduce

its

weight

they can drag the remains outside the walls.

Ill

THEIR SAD END Protected in this truders,

fierce

way

against the invasion of in-

and fed with excellent honey, the grubs

cage prosper greatly.

But of course [152]

in

my

there are excep-

COMMON WASPS tions.

In the Wasps' nest, as everywhere, there are

who are cut down before their time. I see these puny sufferers refuse their food and slowly pine away. The nurses perceive it even more clearly. They bend their heads over the invalid, sound it with weaklings

their antennae,

and pronounce

creature at the point of death cell

and dragged outside the

monwealth of

the

Wasps

it

is

incurable.

Then

torn ruthlessly from

the its

In the brutal com-

nest.

the invalid

is

merely a piece

of rubbish, to be got rid of as soon as possible for fear of

Nor indeed is this the draws near the Wasps foresee their

contagion.

their

end

The

is

first

As winter

They know

fate.

at hand.

cold nights of

The building

the nest.

worst.

November bring

a change in

proceeds with diminished en-

thusiasm; the visits to the pool of honey are less constant.

Household duties are relaxed. hunger receive tardy

found uneasiness devotion

is

to dislike.

relief, or are

Grubs gaping with even neglected.

seizes ujpon the nurses.

Pro-

Their former

succeeded by indifference, which soon turns

What

is

the good of continuing attentions

which soon will be impossible?

A

time of famine

is

coming; the nurselings in any case must die a tragic death.

So the tender nurses become savage execu-

tioners.

"Let us leave no orphans," they say to themselves; [153]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

"no one would care for them after we are gone. kill

A

everything, eggs and grubs alike.

Let us

violent end

is

better than a slow death by starvation."

A

The grubs

massacre follows.

scruff of the neck, brutally torn

are seized by

from

their cells,

the

dragged

out of the nest, and thrown into the refuse-heap at the

bottom of the cave.

The

nurses, or workers, root

them

out of their cells as violently as though they were strangers or dead bodies.

and

Then

tear them.

They tug

them savagely

at

the eggs are ripped open

and de-

voured.

Before

much

longer the nurses themselves, the execu-

dragging what remains of their

tioners, are languidly lives.

Day by

emotion,

I

watch the end of

die suddenly.

on

their backs

by lightning.

by

with a curiosity mingled with

day,

They come and

my

insects.

to the surface, slip

no more, as

rise

They have had

age, that merciless poison.

are old

:

they were struck

if

Even

so does a piece of

its

mainspring has

but the mothers are the

be born into the nest, and have so,

fall

its last spiral.

The workers

And

down,

their day; they are slain

clockwork become motionless when

unwound

The workers

when winter

all the

vigour of youth.

sickness seizes

them, they are

capable of a certain resistance. are easily distinguished

last to

Those whose end

is

near

from the others by the disorder [154]

COMMON WASPS of their appearance.

Their backs are dusty.

While

they are well they dust themselves without ceasing, and their black-and-yellow coats are kept perfectly glossy.

Those who are ailing are

careless of cleanliness; they

stand motionless in the sun or wander languidly about.

They no

longer brush their clothes.

This indifference to dress

is

Two or

a bad sign.

three

days later the dusty female leaves the nest for the last

She goes

time.

outside, to enjoy yet a little of the sun-

light; presently she slides quietly to the

does not get up again.

She declines to die

loved paper home, where the code of the

Wasps

ordains

her

funeral rites by dropping herself into the pit at

the bottom of the cavern.

For reasons of health these

among

stoics refuse to die in the actual house,

The

in her be-

The dying Wasp performs

absolute cleanliness.

own

ground and

last survivors retain this

end.

It is

repugnance to the very

a law that never falls into disuse, however

greatly reduced the population

My

the combs.

may

be.

cage becomes emptier day by day, notwithstand-

ing the mildness of the room, and notwithstanding the saucer of honey at which the able-bodied come to sip.

At Christmas sixth of

I

January the

Whence whole of

last of

them

arises this mortality,

my

On

the

mows down

the

have only a dozen females

wasps?

perishes.

which

They have not [155]

left.

suffered from

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S famine

:

suffered

they have not suffered from cold

from home-sickness.

:

they have not

Then what have

they

The same

thing

died of?

We

must not blame

happens

in the

their captivity.

open country.

\^arious nests

spected at the end of December

The

tion.

vast majority of

not by accident, nor

all

have

in-

show the same condi-

Wasps must

illness,

I

apparently,

die,

nor the inclemency of the

season, but by an inevitable destiny, which destroys

them

And

it is

brings them into

as energetically as

it

well for us that

is so.

to

found a

it

life.

One female Wasp

city of thirty

is

enough

thousand inhabitants.

If all

were to survive, what a scourge they would be!

Wasps would

tyrannise over the countryside.

In the end the nest itself perishes. pillar

which

The

later

A

certain Cater-

on becomes a mean-looking Moth;

a tiny reddish Beetle; and a scaly grub clad in gold velvet, are the creatures that demolish

the floors of the various storeys,

paper are

Wasps'

all that

city

and

They gnaw

and crumble the whole

A few pinches of dust,

dwelling.

it.

a

few shreds of brown

remain, by the return of spring, of the

its

thirty thousand inhabitants.

[156]

CHAPTER XI THE AVENTURES OF A GRUB

THE YOUNG

THE

SITARIS

high banks of sandy clay in the country

round

about

Carpentras

are

the

favourite

haunts of a host of Bees and Wasps, those

sunny aspect and of

lovers of a in.

soil that is

Here, in the month of May, two Bees, both of them

Mason-bees, builders of subterranean cially

her

One

abundant.

dwelling

cylinder,

of

them builds

an advanced

wrought

in

many Bees one

cells,

are espe-

at the entrance of

fortification,

an

earthly

open work and curved, of the

width and length of a man's with

easy to dig

finger.

When

it is

peopled

stands amazed at the elaborate

ornamentation formed by

all these

hanging fingers of

clay.

The

other Bee,

seen and

is

called

who

very much more frequently

Anthophora

of her corridor bare. in old walls

is

The

pilipes, leaves the

opening

chinks between the stones

and abondoned hovels, or exposed surfaces

of sand stone or marl, are found suitable for her labours;

[157]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

but the favourite spots, those to which the greatest

number of swarms

resort, are straight stretches of

exposed to the south, such as occur deeply-sunken roads. width, the wall

is

ground

in the cuttings

Here, over areas

many

of

yards in

drilled with a multitude of holes,

which give to the earthy mass the look of some enormous

These round holes might have been made with

sponge.

Each

a gimlet, so regular are they.

a

winding

corridor,

The

is

the entrance to

which runs to the depth of four or

we wish to watch the labours of the industrious Bee we must visit her workshop during the latter half of May. Then but at a respectful distance we may see, in all its five inches.

cells are at the far end.

—

If

—

bewildering activity, the tumultuous, buzzing swarm, busied with the building and provisioning of the

But

it

cells.

has been most often during the months of

August and September, the happy months of the summer have visited the banks inhabited by the

holidays, that

I

Anthophora.

At

the

this

season all

is

silent near the nests:

work has long been completed: and numbers of

Spiders'

webs

line the crevices or

tubes into the Bees' corridors. ever, for hastily full of life

and

That

abandoning the bustle,

few inches below the imprisoned in their

plunge their silken is

no reason, how-

city that

was once so

and now appears deserted.

A

surface, thousands of grubs are

cells of clay, resting until the

[158]

coming

THE ADVENTURES OF A GRUB spring.

Surely these grubs, which are paralysed and

incapable of self-defence, must be a temptation little

—

morsels as they are

to

some kind of

parasite,

worth inquiring

Two

facts

fat

some

The matter

kind of insect stranger in search of prey. is

—

into.

are

Some

once noticeable.

at

dismal-

looking Flies, half black and half white, are flying indolently from gallery to gallery, evidently with the

Many

object of laying their eggs there.

hanging dry and

lifeless in the Spiders'

of them are

At other

webs.

hung with

the dried

corpses of a certain Beetle, called the Sitaris.

Among

places the entire surface of a bank

is

the corpses, however, are a few live Beetles, both male

The female

and female.

Beetle invariably disappears

Without a doubt

into the Bees' dwelling.

she, too, lays

her eggs there. If

the

we

bank we

things.

we

give a few blows of the pick to the surface of shall find out

something more about these

During the early days of August

what

forming the top layer are unlike

shall see: the cells

The

those at a greater depth. fact that the

this is

difference

same establishment

is

is

owing

to the

used by two kinds of

Bee, the Anthophora and the Osmia.

The Anthophorae

are the actual pioneers.

of boring the galleries are right at the end.

is

wholly

If they, for

[159]

theirs,

and

The work their cells

any reason, leave the

FABRE'S outer

cells, the

them.

BOOK OF INSECTS

Osmia comes

in

and takes possession of

She divides the corridors into unequal and

artistic cells

by means of rough earthen

in-

partitions, her

only idea of masonry.

The cells of

the Anthophora are faultlessly regular

They 'are works

perfectly finished.

and

of art, cut out of

the very substance of the earth, well out of reach of all

ordinary enemies; and for this reason the larva of this

Bee has no means of spinning a cocoon. in the cell,

whose inner surface

In the Osmia's

cells,

is

It lies

naked

polished like stucco.

however, means of defence are

required, because they are at the surface of the soil, are

roughly made, and are badly protected by their thin partitions.

So the Osmia's grubs enclose themselves

in a

very strong cocoon, which preserves them both from the

rough sides of their shapeless of various enemies is

to

easy, then, in a

recognise

the

and from the jaws

cells

who prowl about

the galleries.

bank inhabited by

cells

these

belonging to each.

thophora's cells contain a naked grub

:

those of

It

two Bees,

The Anthe Osmia

contain a grub enclosed in a cocoon.

Now

each of these two Bees has

parasite, or uninvited guest. is

the black-and-white Fly

The who

is

The

own

especial

parasite of the

on laying her eggs

parasite of the Anthophora

[160]

Osmia

to be seen so often

at the entrance to the galleries, intent

within them.

its

is

the

THE ADVENTURES OF A GRUB Sitaris, the tities

Beetle whose corpses appear in such quan-

on the surface of the bank.

If the layer of Osmia-cells be

we can

removed from the nest

Some

observe the cells of the Anthophora,

will

be occupied by larvae, some by the perfect insect, and

some

—indeed many—

shell,

will contain a singular egg-shaped

divided into segments with projecting breathing-

This shell

pores.

extremely thin and fragile;

is

it

is

amber-coloured, and so transparent that one can distinguish quite plainly through Sitaris,

its

sides a full-grown

struggling as though to set herself at liberty.

What

curious shell, which does not appear to

is this

And how

be a Beetle's shell at all?

can this parasite

reach a cell which seems to be inaccessible because of its

position,

and

in

which the most careful examination

under the magnifying-glass reveals no sign of violence?

Three years of these questions,

close observation enabled

and

to

add one of

chapters to the story of insect

of

life.

its

me

to

answer

most astonishing

Here

is

the result

my inquiries. The

Sitaris in the full-grown state lives

or two,

and

its

whole

life is

the Anthophora's galleries.

passed at the entrance to It

reproduction of the species.

usual digestive organs, but

whether

it

I

only for a day

has no concern but the

It is

provided with the

have grave reasons

to

doubt

actuallv takes any nourishment whatever.

[161]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S The

female's only thought

The male,

she dies.

is

This done,

to lay her eggs.

after cowering in a crevice for a

This

or two, also perishes.

is

day

the origin of all those

corpses swinging in the Spiders' web, with which the

neighbourhood of the Anthophora's dwelling

uphol-

is

stered.

At

sight one

first

would expect that

the Sitaris,

laying her eggs, would go from cell to

an egg

my observations,

I

I

confiding

But when,

to each of the Bee-grubs.

course of

cell,

when

in

the

searched the Bees' galleries,

invariably found the eggs of the Sitaris gathered in

a heap inside the entrance, at a distance of an inch or

They

two from the opening. small,

and they

number,

mate

it

I

at

and very

As

for their

stick together slightly.

do not believe

two thousand

Thus, contrary

are white, oval,

to

I

am

exaggerating when

I esti-

at least.

what one was

to

some extent en-

titled to suppose, the eggs are not laid in the cells of the

Bee; they are simply dumped

way of her dwelling. make any protective

Nay

in a

heap inside the door-

more, the mother does not

structure for them; she takes no

pains to shield them from the rigours of winter; she

does not even attempt to stop up the entrance-lobby in

which she has placed them, and so protect them from

the thousand enemies that threaten them.

[162]

For

as long

THE ADVENTURES OF A GRUB as the frosts of winter have not arrived these open galleries are

whom The

trodden by Spiders and other plunderers, for

the eggs

would make an agreeable meal.

number of

better to observe them, I placed a

the

eggs in boxes; and when they hatched out about the

end of September in

off

wrong.

I

imagined they would at once start

search of an Anthophora-cell.

The young grubs

—

little

I

was entirely

black creatures no

—did

more than the twenty-fifth of an inch long

move away, though provided with

not

They

vigorous legs.

remained higgledy-piggledy, mixed up with the skins of the eggs whence they came. their reach

In vain

lumps of earth containing open Bee-cells:

nothing would tempt them to move.

moved

placed within

I

a few from the

ried back to

it

common heap

If I forcibly re-

they at once hur-

in order to hide themselves

among

the

rest.

At

last, to

free state,

assure myself that the Sitaris-grubs, in the

do not disperse after they are hatched,

in the winter to Carpentras

found the grubs

all

piled

went

and inspected the banks

inhabited by the Anthophorse. I

I

up

There, as in

my

in heaps, all

mixed up

boxes,

with the skins of the eggs. I

was no nearer answering the question

Sitaris get into the Bees' cells,

not belong to it? [163]

and into a

:

how

does the

shell that does

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS II

THE The appearance once that

its

habits

saw, be called on to

FIRST

of the

ADVENTURE young

must be

showed me at

Sitaris

peculiar.

It

move on an ordinary

could not, I

The

surface.

spot where this larva has to live evidently exposes to the risk of

prevent them,

many dangerous it

is

it

order to

falls, since, in

equipped with a pair of powerful

mandibles, curved and sharp; robust legs which end in a long

and very mobile claw; a variety of

bristles

and

probes; and a couple of strong spikes with sharp, hard points

— an elaborate mechanism,

share, capable of biting into the

surface.

Nor

is

this all.

most highly polished

It is further

provided with

a sticky liquid, sufficiently adhesive to hold

without the help of other appliances.

my

brains to guess

what

shifting, so uncertain, Sitaris

is

destined to inhabit.

patience for the return of the

At

the

perilous, I

in position

racked

I

might

be,

which the young

weather.

end of April the young grubs imprisoned

to

in

my

in the

spongy

move.

They

and hidden

heap of egg-skins, suddenly began

and ran about

so

waited with eager im-

warm

cages, hitherto lying motionless

scattered,

it

In vain

the substance

and so

plough-

like a sort of

in all directions

through the

boxes and jars in which they have passed the winter.

[164]

THE ADVENTURES OF A GRUB Their hurried movements and untiring energy showed they were in search of something, and the thing for them to seek was food.

natural

For these grubs were

hatched at the end of September, and since then, that to say for seven long months, they

is

had taken no nourish-

ment, although they were by no means in a state of

From

torpor.

the

doomed, though

moment

of their hatching they are

full of life, to

for seven months;

and when

I

an absolute fast lasting

saw

their excitement I

naturally supposed that an imperious hunger had set

them bustling

The food

in that fashion.

they desired could only be the contents of

the Anthophora's cells, since at a later stage the Sitaris is

found

to

honey and Bee-grubs.

in those cells.

I offered

them some

Now cells

slipped the Sitares into the

these contents are limited

containing larvae: cells,

things to tempt their appetite. less.

Then

I tried

May.

I lost

surface of the honey.

down

so completely!

efforts

were

of

fruit-

cells pro-

a good part of the month of

Having found them

from some of them, and

My

even

all sorts

In hunting for

honey.

visioned with honey

and did

I

I

removed the Bee-grub

laid the Sitaris-grub

on the

Never did experiment break Far from eating the honey, the

grubs became entangled in the sticky mass and perished in

it,

suffocated.

"I have

offered

[165]

you

larvae,

cells,

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS honey I"

I

you fiendish Well,

"Then what do you want,

cried in despair.

creatures?"

little

the end

in

They wanted

I

found out what they wanted.

Anthophora herself

the

to carry

them

into

the cells!

When

April comes, as I said before, the heap of grubs

at the entrance to the Bees' cells begins to

A

activity.

Strange as

it

few days

may

later they are

show signs of

no longer

there.

appear, they are all careering about

the country, sometimes at a great distance, clinging like

grim death to the

When

fleece of a

the Anthophorte pass

cells,

on their way either

grub,

who

by the entrance

to their

young

Sitaris-

in or out, the

lying in wait there, attaches himself to

is

He

one of the Bees. it

Bee!

wriggles into the fur and clutches

so firmly that he need not fear a fall during the long

By

journeys of the insect that carries him.

thus attach-

ing himself to the Bee the Sitaris intends to get himself carried, at the right

moment,

into a cell supplied with

honey.

One might

at first sight believe that these adventur-

ous grubs derive food for a time from the Bee's body.

But not

at all.

fleece, at right

head inwards,

The young

Sitares,

embedded

in the

angles to the body of the Anthophora, tail

outwards, do not

stir

from the spot

they have selected, a point near the Bee's shoulders.

[166]

THE ADVENTURES OF A GRUB We

do not see them wandering from spot

to spot, ex-

ploring the Bee's body, seeking the part where the skin is

most

would

delicate, as they

certainly do if they were

really feeding on the insect.

On

are always fixed on the toughest

and hardest part of the

Bee's body, a

the contrary, they

below the insertion of the wings,

little

or sometimes on the head;

and they remain absolutely

motionless, clinging to a single hair.

It

seems to

me

undeniable that the young Sitares settle on the Bee

merely to make her carry them into the

cells that she will

soon be building.

But

in the

meantime the future

parasites

must hold

tight to the fleece of their hostess, in spite of her rapid flights

among

the flowers, in spite of her rubbing against

the walls of the galleries

and

in spite,

above

all,

when

she enters to take shelter,

of the brushing which she

must

often give herself with her feet, to dust herself and keep

We

spick

and span.

what

the dangerous, shifting thing could be on which

the grub

would have

the hair of a Bee

were wondering a

to establish itself.

who makes

little

That thing

is

a thousand rapid journeys,

now diving into her narrow galleries, now way down the tight throat of a flower. We can now quite understand the use spikes,

time ago

forcing her

of the two

which close together and are able to take hold

of hair more easily than the most delicate tweezers.

[167]

We

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

can see the full value of the sticky liquid that helps the tiny creature to hold fast; and elastic probes

the Bee's

and

down and anchor this

realise that the

on the legs serve

bristles

more one considers

we can

to penetrate

the grub in position.

The

arrangement, which seems so

useless as the grub drags itself laboriously over a smooth

surface, the

which

more does one marvel

this fragile creature carries

falling during

its

adventurous

at all the

machinery

about to save

it

from

rides.

m THE SECOND ADVENTURE One

2 1st of

May I

see, if possible, the

went

to Carpentras, determined to

entrance of the Sitaris into the Bee's

cells.

The works were in full swing. In front of a high expanse of earth a swarm of Bees, stimulated by the sun, was dancing a crazy ballet. From the tumultuous heart of the cloud rose a monotonous, threatening murmur,

while

my

bewildered eye tried to follow the movements

of the throng.

Quick as a lightning-flash thousands of

Anthophora' were flying hither and thither booty:

thousands of others,

also,

in search

of

were arriving, laden

with honey, or with mortar for their building.

At

that time

insects.

It

I

knew comparatively

seemed

to

me

that

[168]

little

about these

any one who ventured

THE ADVENTURES OF A GRUB into the swarm, or

—above —who all

hand

laid a rash

on the Bees' dwellings, would instantly be stabbed by

had once observed the combs of the

a thousand stings.

I

Hornet too

and a shiver of fear passed through

closely;

me. Yet, to find out what

I

wished to know,

penetrate that fearsome swarm;

I

must needs

must stand

I

for

whole

hours, perhaps all day, watching the works I intended to upset; lens in hand, I

must examine, unmoved amid

the whirl, the things that were happening in the cells.

Moreover, the use of a mask, of gloves, of a covering of any kind, was out of the question, for

No

eyes must be absolutely free. I

I

Having caught a few I satisfied

:

my

fingers

me

and

even though face swollen

was determined that day

the problem that had puzzled

I

matter

should leave the Bee's nest with

beyond recognition,

my

to solve

too long.

stray Anthophorse with

my

net,

myself that the Sitaris-larvae were perched, as

expected, on the Bees. I

buttoned

the swarm.

my

With

a few blows of the mattock

a lump of earth, and to uninjured.

A

had the same sting.

and entered the heart of

coat tightly

my

I

secured

great surprise found myself

second expedition, longer than the result:

After this

the nest, removing

I

not a Bee touched

me

first,

with her

remained permanently in front of

lumps of

earth, spilling the honey,

[169]

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS and crushing the Bees, without arousing anything worse than a louder hum.

When

creature.

and

hastily

I

it

its

to this

was able

leisure, seated

them

wounded,

venomous sting except when

unexpected lack of

spirit in the

it

is

though

I

on a stone

in the

to pass

my

midst of the murmuring single sting,

Country

took no precautions whatever.

happening

Mason-

for hours to investigate her cells at

and distracted swarm, without receiving a

amid

leaves

and handled.

Thanks bee,

disturbed in the cells

a pacific

is

escapes, sometimes even mortally

without using seized

For the Anthophora

folk,

and seeing me seated thus calmly

the Bees, stopped aghast to ask

me

if I

had be-

witched them. In this

way

I

examined the

cells.

open, and contained only a more or

I

The

less

still

complete store

Others were closely sealed with an earthen

of honey. lid.

Some were

contents of these varied greatly.

Sometimes

found the larva of a Bee; sometimes another, fatter

kind of larva; at other times honey with an egg floating

The egg was

on the surface.

was shaped

like a cylinder

of a beautiful white, and

with a slight curve, a

fifth

— the egg of the Anthophora.

or sixth of an inch in length

In a few cells

I

found

surface of the honey

:

this

egg floating

in others,

[170]

very

all

many

alone on the

others, I saw,

THE ADVENTURES OF A GRUB lying on the Bee's egg as though on a sort of raft, a young Sitaris-grub.

when

ture

Its

it

shape and size were those of the crea-

hatched.

is

Here, then, was the enemy

within the gates.

When was

and how did

I able to detect

get in?

it

In none of the

any chink by which

it

could have

entered: they were all sealed quite tightly. site

must have established

itself in the

before the warehouse was closed.

cells

The

para-

honey-warehouse

On

the other hand, the open cells, full of honey but as yet without an egg,

never contain a

The grub must

Sitaris.

admittance either while the Bee else afterwards, while she

My

is

is

therefore gain

laying the egg, or

busy plastering up the door.

experiments 'have convinced

enters the cell in the very second

me

that the Sitaris

when

the egg

is

laid

on the surface of the honey. If I take a cell full of honey, with an egg floating in it,

and place

it

in a glass tube

with some Sitaris-grubs,

they very rarely venture inside the raft in safety:

the

If one of

honey

to escape as soon as

of the stuff under

it

it

reach is

too

them by chance approaches the

its feet.

into the cell, where

They cannot

honey that surrounds

dangerous. it tries

it.

It

it

sees the sticky nature

often ends by falling back

dies of suffocation.

It is therefore

certain that the grub does not leave the fleece of the

[171]

Bee

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S when

the latter

is

in

her cell or near

a rush for the honey; for this

cause

its

We

death,

if it

so

much

it,

make

in order to

honey would inevitably

as touched the surface.

must remember that the young

Sitaris

which

is

always placed on the egg of the

found

in a closed cell

Bee.

This egg not only serves as a raft for the tiny

is

creature floating on a very treacherous lake, but also

provides

it

with

its first

To

meal.

get at this egg, in

the centre of the lake of honey, to reach this raft which is

also

its first

food, the

young grub must somehow con-

trive to avoid the fatal touch of the honey.

There

only one

is

way

clever grub, at the very

in

which

this

The

can be done.

moment when

the

Bee

is

laying

her egg, slips off the Bee and on to the egg, and with

The egg is too and that is why we

reaches the surface of the honey.

it

small to hold more than one grub,

never find more than one Sitaris in a

cell.

Such

a per-

formance on the part of a grub seems extraordinarily inspired

—but then the study of

insects constantly gives

us examples of such inspiration.

When

dropping her egg upon the honey, then, the

Anthophora at the same time drops into her mortal enemy of her race. lid

A

same

cell is built beside

fate;

and so on

the

She carefully plasters the

which closes the entrance to the second

cell

it,

cell,

and

all is

done.

probably to suffer the

until all the parasites sheltered

[172]

by

THE ADVENTURES OF A GRUB Let us leave the

her fleece are comfortably housed.

unhappy mother

to continue her fruitless task,

and turn

our attention to the young larva which has so cleverly secured for itself board and lodging.

Let us suppose that we remove the

which the egg, recently

The egg

intact

is

and

we

see

from a

cell in

supports a Sitaris-grub.

laid,

But now

in perfect condition.

The

the work of destruction begins.

speck which

lid

grub, a tiny black

running over the white surface of

and balances

the egg, at last stops

itself firmly

on

its

six legs; then, seizing the delicate skin of the

egg with

the sharp hooks of

violently

mandibles,

its

it

tugs at

These contents

breaks and spills the contents.

till it

the grub eagerly drinks up. parasite's mandibles

is

Thus

aimed

the

it

first

stroke of the

at the destruction of the

Bee's egg.

This

is

a very wise precaution on the part of the

Sitaris-grub

I

have

It will

the Bee's grub which

cell:

to feed

would come out of the egg

would

also require the honey:

two.

So

is

— quick —a I

on the honey in the

there

bite at the egg,

is

not enough for

and the

difficulty

removed.

Moreover, another reason for the destruction of the

egg

is

make

that special tastes compel the its first

meals of

it.

The

young

Sitaris to

tiny creature begins

by

greedily drinking the juices which the torn wrapper of

[173]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS For several days

the egg allows to escape.

to rip the envelope gradually open,

liquid that trickles from

and

Meanwhile

it.

the honey that surrounds

it.

The

it

continues

to feed it

on the

never touches

Bee's egg

is

abso-

lutely necessary to the Sitaris-grub, not merely as a boat, but also as nourishment.

At

the

end of a week the egg

is

nothing but a dry

The first meal is finished. The Sitaris-grub, which is now twice as large as before, splits open along

skin.

the back, and through this

slit

the second form of this

singular Beetle falls on the surface of the honey. cast skin remains

appear with

Here ends

it

on the

raft,

and

Its

will presently dis-

beneath the waves of honey.

the history of the

Sitaris.

[174]

first

form adopted by the

:

CHAPTER

XII

THE CRICKET

THE HOUSEHOLDER

THE

Field

meadows,

and

his

is

figures

number of the

the

Cricket,

inhabitant

of

the

almost as famous as the Cicada,

among

the limited but glorious

He

song and his house.

complete his renown.

owes

this

honour to

One thing alone is The master of the art

lacking to

classic insects.

of

animals talk. La Fontaine, gives him hardly two

making lines,

Florian, the other French writer of fables, gives us a

story of a Cricket, but

it

and the saving

humour.

salt of

lacks the simplicity of truth

Besides,

it

represents

the Cricket as discontented, bewailing his condition!

This

is

a preposterous idea, for all

him know, on the with his at the

own

talent

end of the

"My

snug

If you

contrary, that he

and

his

own

story, Florian

little

want to

home live

is

is

who have

studied

very well pleased

burrow.

And

indeed,

makes him admit

a place of delight;

happy, live hidden from sight!"

[175]

;

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S I find

more force and truth

some verses by a friend

in

of mine, of which these are a translation:

Among

the beasts a talc

How

to catch the sun's

And saw

tails

thrown proudly back

and bands of black.

stars

lordliest

Fly that ever flew.

away," the hermit

fly

"Daylong among your

Nor

gold

long gay rows of crescents blue,

Brave yellow

"Ah,

warm

a radiant Butterfly.

She passed with

The

told

a poor Cricket ventured nigh

His door

And

is

said,

flowers to roam;

daisies white nor roses red

Will compensate True,

all

And

too true

!

my

lowly home."

There came a storm

caught the Fly within

its flood,

Staining her broken velvet form

And The

covering her wings with mud.

Cricket, sheltered

from the

rain.

Chirped, and looked on with tranquil eye;

For him the thunder pealed

The gale and Then shun

Of any

A lowly At >

in vain.

torrent passed

him by.

the world, nor take your

of

its

fill

joys or flowers

fire-side,

calm and

least will grant

you

English transalation by

still,

tearless hours!

Mr

[176]

*

Stephen M'Kenna.

THE CRICKET There

I recognise

my

Cricket.

I see

him curling

his

antennae on the threshold of his burrow, keeping himself cool in front

and warm

He

at the back.

is

not

jealous of the Butterfly; on the contrary, he pities her,

with that

air of

mocking commiseration we often

see in

who have houses of their own when they are talking to those who have none. Far from complaining, he those

very well satisfied both with his house and his violin.

is

He

a true philosopher

is

and

feels the

he knows the vanity of things

:

charm of a modest retreat away from the

riot of pleasure-seekers.

Yes, the description

But

the Cricket

is still

is

about

right, as far as

goes.

it

waiting for the few lines needed

to bring his merits before the public;

and

since

La Fon-

taine neglected him, he will have to go on waiting a

long time.

To

me, as a naturalist, the important point in the two

fables

is

the burrow on which the moral

is

founded.

Florian speaks of the snug retreat; the other praises his

lowly home. all

It is the dwelling, therefore, that

above

compels attention, even that of the poet, who as a

rule cares little for realities.

In this matter, indeed, the Cricket

Of

all

our insects he

is

is

extraordinary.

the only one who,

when

grown, possesses a fixed home, the reward of industry.

During the bad season of [177]

his

full-

own

the year, most of

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

the others burrow or skulk in

some temporary refuge,

a refuge obtained free of cost and abandoned without

Several of them create marvels with a view to

regret.

settling their family:

Some

leaves, towers of cement.

ambush, lying

made

of

permanently

in

cotton satchels, baskets live

in wait for their prey.

The

Tiger-beetle,

for instance, digs himself a perpendicular hole, which

he stops up with his

on

insect steps tips up,

and

If

any other

immediately

it

unhappy wayfarer disappears

gulf.

The

sand.

Its victim,

is

bronze head.

deceptive trap-door

this

the

flat,

into the

Ant-lion makes a slanting funnel in the the Ant, slides

down

the slant

and

then stoned, from the bottom of the funnel, by the

hunter,

who

turns his neck into a catapult.

But these

are all temporary refuges or traps.

The settles

laboriously constructed home, in which the insect

down with no

happy spring

intention of moving, either in the

or in the woeful winter season; the real

manor-house, built for peace and comfort, and not as

—

a hunting-box or a nurseryalone.

On

this is

known

some sunny, grassy slope he

a hermitage.

While

all the others

is

to the Cricket

the

owner of

lead vagabond lives,

sleeping in the open air or under the casual shelter of a dead leaf or a stone, or the pealing bark of an old tree,

he

is

a privileged person with a

The making

of a

home

is

permanent address.

a serious problem.

[178]

It

has

THE CRICKET been solved by the Cricket, by the Rabbit, and lastly by

my

man.

In

have

holes,

neighbourhood the Fox and the Badger

which are largely formed by the

A

of the rock,

few

repairs,

and the dug-out

pleted.

The Rabbit

his house

by burrowing wherever he

is

is

irregularities

com-

is

cleverer than these, for he builds pleases,

no natural passage that allows him

when

to settle

there

down

free

of all trouble.

The

Cricket

is

cleverer than

any of them.

chance refuges, and always chooses the

site

He of his

carefully, in well-drained ground, with a pleasant

He

aspect.

refuses to

make

scorns

home sunny

use of ready-made caves

that are inconvenient and rough: he digs every bit of his villa, I see

from the entrance-hall

no one above him,

to the back-room.

in the art of house-building,

except man; and even man, before mixing mortar to

hold stones together, or kneading clay to coat his hut of branches, fought with wild beasts for a refuge in the rocks.

Why

is it

that a special instinct

Here

one particular creature?

is

is

bestowed on

one of the humblest

of creatures able to lodge himself to perfection. has a home, an advantage

unknown

beings; he has a peaceful retreat, the

comfort; and no one around him

down.

He

Whence

is

to

many

first

He

civilised

condition of

capable of settling

has no rivals but ourselves.

does he derive this gift?

[179]

Is

he favoured

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS with special

No, the Cricket

tools'?

in the art of digging; in fact,

the result

when one

home

Is a

one

is

not an expert

rather surprised at

is

considers the feebleness of his means.

a necessity to him, on account of an excep-

No,

tionally delicate skin? as sensitive as his, yet

his near

kinsmen have skins

do not dread the open

air at all.

Is the house-building talent the result of his

Has he any

anatomy?

No:

special organ that suggests it?

my

in

neighbourhood there are three other Crickets who are so

much

and

like the Field Cricket in appearance, colour,

structure, that at the

for him.

Of

first

glance one would take them

these faithful copies, not one

knows how

The Double-spotted

to dig himself a burrow.

Cricket

inhabits the heaps of grass that are left to rot in

damp

places; the Solitary Cricket roams about the dry clods

turned up by the gardener's spade; the Bordeaux Cricket is

not afraid to make his

way

into our houses,

sings discreetly, during August cool,

where he

and September,

in

some

dark spot.

There

is

no object

in continuing these questions:

Instinct never tells us its

answer would always be No. causes.

It

depends so

little

the

on an

insect's stock of tools

that no detail of anatomy, nothing in the creature's

formation, can explain

it

to us or

These four similar Crickets, of

[180]

make

whom

us foresee

it.

only one can

THE FIELD CRICKET Here

is

one of the humblest of creatures able to lodge himself He has a home; he has a peaceful retreat, the first condition of comfort

to perfection.

«H TV

U\\ ,

I

«i

J

1

1

J

^

THE CRICKET burrow, are enough to show us our ignorance of the origin of instinct.

Who

does not

know

Who

the Cricket's house?

has

not, as a child playing in the fields, stopped in front of

However

the hermit's cabin?

light your footfall, he

has heard you coming, and has abruptly withdrawn to the very bottom of his hiding-place. the threshold of the house

is

insert a straw

Surprised at what

and move is

you

arrive,

deserted.

Every one knows the way

You

When

to bring out the skulker. it

gently about the burrow.

happening above, the tickled and

teased Cricket ascends from his back room; he stops in the passage, hesitates,

He

ingly.

and waves

comes to the

his delicate antennae inquir-

light,

and, once outside, he

is

easy to catch, since these events have puzzled his poor

Should he be missed at the

head.

come suspicious and refuse

first

to appear.

attempt he

may be-

In that case he can

be flooded out with a glass of water.

Those were adorable times when we were children, and hunted Crickets along the grassy paths, and put them in cages,

and fed them on a

back to

me

to-day, those times, as

subjects to study.

companion, springs

leaf of lettuce.

little

They seem

I

They

all

come

search the burrows for

like yesterday

when my

Paul, an expert in the use of the straw,

up suddenly

after a

[181]

long

trial

of skill

and

FABRE'S patience,

and

BOOK OF INSECTS

cries excitedly:

him

"I've got

I've got

I

himi" Quick, here's a bag!

You shall be petted and something, and

first

my

In you go,

little

Cricket

I

pampered, but you must teach us

of all you must show us your house.

II

HIS HOUSE It is a slanting gallery in the grass,

bank which soon

dries after a shower.

long at most, hardly as thick as one's

on some sunny It is

finger,

nine inches

and

straight

or bent according to the nature of the ground. rule, a tuft of grass half conceals the

As a

home, serving as

a porch and throwing the entrance discreetly into shadow.

When

the Cricket goes out to browse

ing turf he

does not

touch this

upon tuft.

the surround-

The gently

sloping threshold, carefully raked and swept, extends for

some distance; and

everything

is

this

is

the terrace on which,

peaceful round about, the Cricket

when

sits

and

scrapes his fiddle.

The

inside of the house

is

devoid of luxury, with

The

bare and yet not coarse walls.

inhabitant has

plenty of leisure to do away with any unpleasant roughness.

At the end of the passage

is

the bedroom, a little

more carefully smoothed than the wider.

All said,

it is

rest,

and

slightly

a very simple abode, exceedingly

[182]

THE CRICKET from damp, and conforming to the rules of

clean, free

hygiene.

On

taking, a gigantic tunnel, tools with

The

an enormous under-

when we

consider the modest

which the Cricket has to

know how he go back

it is

the other hand,

does

to the time

it,

and when he

when

the egg

is

dig.

sets to

we wish to work, we must If

laid.

Cricket lays her eggs singly in the

soil, like

Decticus, at a depth of three-quarters of an inch.

the

She

arranges them in groups, and lays altogether about five

The egg

or six hundred. ism.

After the hatching

cylinder, with a round

To

the edge of this hole

stead of bursting open

larva within, line

—a

it

is

it

a

little

marvel of mechan-

appears as an opaque white

and very regular hole is

fastened a cap, like a

anyhow under

opens of

at the top.

its

own

the thrusts of the

accord along a circular

after the

egg

is

laid,

two

A

round, rusty-black dots darken the front end.

way above is

these

two

large, little

dots, right at the top of the cylinder,

see the outline of a thin circular swelling.

the line where the shell

is

This

preparing to break open.

Soon the transparency of the egg allows one

to see the

delicate markings of the tiny creature's segments. is

In-

specially prepared line of least resistance.

About a fortnight

you

lid.

Now

the time to be on the watch, especially in the morning.

Fortune loves the persevering, and visits to the

eggs

we

if

shall be rewarded.

we pay

constant

All round the

swelling, where the resistance of the shell has gradually

[183]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

been overcome, the end of the egg becomes detached.

Being pushed back by the forehead of the within,

scent-bottle.

creature

and

falls to

The

Cricket pops out like a Jack-in-the-

rises

it

little

one side

like the top of a tiny

box.

When

he

is

gone the

remains distended, smooth,

shell

pure white, with the cap or

intact,

A

opening.

bird's

lid

hanging from the

egg breaks clumsily under the blows

of a wart that grows for the purpose at the end of the Chick's beak; the Cricket's egg

and opens ture's I

an ivory

like

head

enough

is

work

when

said above that,

Cricket pops out; but this

appears

is

is

thrust of the crea-

the hinge.

the lid

is

is

lifted, a

not quite accurate.

young

What

the swaddled grub, as yet unrecognisable in

The

a tight-fitting sheath.

who

The

case.

to

more ingeniously made,

is

hatched

Decticus, you will remember,

same way under the

in the

soil,

wears a

protective covering during his journey to the surface.

The

Cricket

related to the Decticus,

is

wears the same livery, although not need

ground its

it.

The egg

shorter

and

grub has to fight

has grown hard, and

its

stouter,

he does

of the Decticus remains under-

soil that

needs a covering for is

in point of fact

for eight months, so the poor

way through

and therefore

long shanks.

and

ground for a few days

powdery layer of earth

since

it

to

its

But

egg

is

it

therefore

the Cricket

only in the

has nothing worse than a pass through.

[184]

For these

THE CRICKET reasons

it

no

requires

overall,

and leaves

it

behind in

the shell.

As soon

as he

rid of his swaddling-clothes the

is

young

Cricket, pale all over, almost white, begins to battle with

He

the soil overhead.

out with his mandibles; he

hits

sweeps aside and kicks behind him the powdery earth,

which face,

is,

By

Very soon he

resistance.

is

on the sur-

amidst the joys of the sunlight and the perils of with his fellow-creatures

conflict

he

no

offers

—poor

feeble mite that

hardly larger than a Flea. the end of twenty-four hours he has turned into

a magnificent blackamoor, whose ebon hue vies with that of the full-grown insect.

nal pallor

is

nimble and

alert,

he sounds the surrounding air with his

to death.

Ant.

They

why

the mother Cricket lays so

The

are massacred in

latter,

me

many

most of the young ones are doomed

and especially by the

hardly leaves

up

see

It is because

insects,

will be too fat to in-

such antics.

And now we eggs.

and runs and jumps about with

Some day he

great impetuosity. is

Very

a white sash that girds his chest.

long, quivering antennas,

dulge

All that remains of his origi-

little

loathsome a Cricket in

the poor little creatures

huge numbers by other

Grey Lizard and the

freebooter

my

garden.

that

she

is,

She snaps

and gobbles them down at

frantic speed.

Oh, the execrable wretch! [185]

And

to think that

we

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

place the Ant in the front rank of insects

I

Books are

written in her honour, and the stream of praise never

The

runs dry.

add daily

naturalists hold her in great esteem;

to her fame.

It

as with men, the surest

do harm

would seem that with animals,

way

to attract attention

is

to

to others.

Nobody work

and

asks about the Beetles

as scavengers, whereas

who do

such valuable

everybody knows the Gnat,

that drinker of men's blood the ;

Wasp,

that hot-tempered

swashbuckler, with her poisoned dagger; and the Ant, that notorious evil-doer who, in our southern villages,

saps and imperils the rafters of a dwelling as cheerfully as she eats a

fig.

The Ant massacres thoroughly that enclosure.

I

am

Crickets

the

my

in

garden so

driven to look for them outside the

In August,

among

the fallen leaves, where

the grass has not been wholly scorched by the sun, I find the all over,

At

this

young

with not a vestige of his white girdle remaining.

period of his

life

he

a dead leaf or a flat stone

Many of stores

is

is

a vagabond

enough

the shelter of

:

for him.

who survived the raids of the Ants now the Wasp, who hunts down the wanderers

those

fall victims to

and

and now black

Cricket, already rather big,

them underground.

their dwellings a

If they

would but dig

few weeks before the usual time they

would be saved; but they never think of faithful to their ancient customs.

[186]

it.

They

are

THE CRICKET It

threatens, that the is

very simple,

caged

when

at the close of October,

is

if I

burrow

first

cold weather

taken in hand.

is

may judge by my

The digging

insect.

the

is

The work

observation of the

never done at a bare point

in the pan, but always under the shelter of

some withered

a remnant of the food provided.

lettuce-leaf,

This

takes the place of the grass tuft that seems indispensable to the secrecy of the home.

The miner

and uses the

scrapes with his fore-legs,

pincers of his mandibles to pull out the larger bits of gravel. legs,

him stamping with

I see

powerful hind-

furnished with a double row of spikes; I see him

raking the rubbish, sweeping it

his

slantwise.

soil

backwards and spreading

There you have the whole

The work proceeds yielding

it

of

ground after a

my

process.

pretty quickly at

first.

In the

cages the digger disappears under-

spell that lasts a couple of hours.

He

returns to the entrance at intervals, always backwards

and always sweeping.

Should he be overcome with

fatigue he takes a rest on the threshold of his halffinished home, with his

waving

feebly.

He

head outside and

goes in again, and resumes work

Soon the periods of

with pinchers and rakes.

come

longer,

and wear out

The most urgent the hole

is

part of the work

The

rest be-

my patience.

a couple of inches deep,

of the moment.

his antennae

rest will

[187]

done.

is

it suffices

be a long

Once

for the needs

affair, carried

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S out

in a leisurely

way, a

little

one day and a

the

little

made deeper and wider as the and the insect larger. Even in

the hole will be

next:

weather grows colder winter,

if

the temperature be mild

on the entrance to the dwelling,

and the sun shining

it is

the Cricket shooting out rubbish.

spring the upkeep of the building

not unusual to see

Amid still

the joys of

continues.

It is

constantly undergoing improvements and repairs until the owner's death.

When in rare

April ends the Cricket's song begins; at

and shy

solos,

first

but soon in a general symphony in

which each clod of turf boasts

its

performer.

I

am more

than inclined to place the Cricket at the head of the spring choristers.

In our waste-lands,

when

the

thyme

Lark

rises

like a lyrical rocket, his throat swelling with notes,

and

and lavender

are gaily flowering, the Crested

from the sky sheds

Down song

his

sweet music upon the fallows.

below the Crickets chant the responses.

is

monotonous and

artless,

Their

but well suited in

very lack of art to the simple gladness of reviving It is the

duet

I

should award the palm to the Cricket.

numbers and Lark

his

unceasing note deserve

to fall silent, the fields blue-grey

swinging

life.

hosanna of the awakening, the sacred alleluia

understood by swelling seed and sprouting blade. this

its

its

it.

Were

His the

with lavender,

fragrant censors before the sun, would

[188]

In

still

:

THE CRICKET receive from this

humble

chorister a

solemn

hymn

of

praise.

Ill

HIS MUSICAL-BOX

In Steps Science, and says to the Cricket bluntly:

"Show Like

us your musical-box,"

all things

of real value,

it is

very simple.

It is

based on the same principle as that of the Grasshoppers

bow with a hook to it, and a vibrating membrane. The right wing-case overlaps the left and covers it almost a

completely, except where cases the insect's side.

that which cus,

and

we

it

folds back sharply

It is the

find in the

their kinsmen.

and en-

opposite arrangement to

Green Grasshopper, the Decti-

The

Cricket

is

right-handed,

the others left-handed.

The two wing-cases are made in exactly the same way. To know one is to know the other. They lie flat on the insect's back,

and slant suddenly

at the side in a right-

angled fold, encircling the body with a delicately veined pinion. If

you hold one of these wing-cases up

you will

see that

is it

to the light

a very pale red, save for two large

adjoining spaces; a larger, triangular one in front, and a smaller, oval one at the back.

[189]

They

are crossed

by

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S faint

These two spaces are the sounding-

wrinkles.

The

boards, or drums.

skin

is

than elsewhere,

finer here

and transparent, though of a somewhat smoky

At

the hinder edge of the front part are

parallel veins, with a cavity between them.

contains five or six

two curved, This cavity

black wrinkles that look like

little

They supply

the rungs of a tiny ladder.

friction

vibration by increasing the

intensify the

tint.

they

:

number of

points touched by the bow.

On

the lower surface one of the

two veins that

round the cavity of the rungs becomes a This

shape of a hook.

about a hundred and

is

the bow.

sur-

rib cut into the

It is

provided with

fifty triangular teeth

of exquisite

geometrical regularity. It

is

a fine instrument indeed.

fifty teeth of the

The hundred and

bow, biting into the rungs of the oppo-

site wing-case, set the four

drums

in

motion at one and

the same time, the lower pair by direct friction, the upper pair by the shaking of the friction-apparatus.

rush of sound his

I

The

What

a

Cricket with his four drums throws

music to a distance of some hundreds of yards.

He

vies with the Cicada' in shrillness, without having

the latter's disagreeable harshness. this

favoured creature knows

The

wing-cases, as

fold.

I said,

how

to

And; better modulate

extend over each side

These are the dumpers which,

still:

his song. in a

lowered

wide to

a

greater or less depth, alter the intensity of the sound.

[190]

— THE CRICKET According to the extent of their contact with the soft

body of the Cricket they allow him

to sing gently at

one

time and fortissimo at another.

The

exact similarity of the two wing-cases

of attention.

I

motion but what

is

;

left

Not

nothing to strike with toothed as the other.

its

resting on anything,

hook, which

is

below.

its

two

mechanism would be the same

useless.

it

has

as carefully

parts,

and place

fiddlestick

such that the

is

and the

as before,

play with the

The lower

bow

If that could be done, the

perfect symmetry of the instrument

to

is

in

it

It is absolutely useless, unless the

apparatus can invert the order of that above which

sets

the good of the lower one, the

wing?

would be able

worthy

can see clearly the function of the upper

bow, and the four sounding-spaces which

on the

is

bow

that

is

insect

at present

would become the upper,

and the tune would be the same. I

suspected at

first

that the Cricket could use both

bows, or at least that there were some

manently left-handed.

me

of the contrary.

and they are many

who were

per-

But observation has convinced

All the Crickets

—without a

I

have examined

single exception carried

the right wing-case above the left. I

even tried to bring about by

Nature refused

to

show me.

artificial

Using

my

means what forceps, very

gently of course, and without straining the wing-cases, I

made

these overlap the opposite way.

[191]

It is easily

done

FABRE'S with a

BOOK OF INSECTS Everything went well:

and patience.

little skill

was no dislocation of the shoulders, the membranes

there

were not creased. I

almost expected the Cricket to sing, but

undeceived.

He

vain

I

instrument to

his

was soon

submitted for a few moments; but

then, finding himself uncomfortable, he

and restored

I

its

made an

effort

usual position.

In

the Cricket's obstinacy

repeated the operation:

triumphed over mine.

Then

thought

I

would make

I

wing-cases were quite

when

the larva casts

new and

its skin.

At

of being transformed.

and wing-cases form four and

scantiness,

directions,

me

my

Then

the right

by

their shape

stick out in different

of the short jackets

The

wings

worn by the

larva cast off these gar-

eyes.

There was no sign

and

this stage the future

wing-cases developed bit by

other.

moment

secured one at the point

tiny flaps, which,

Auvergne cheesemakers.

The

plastic, at the

and by the way they

remind

ments before

I

the attempt while the

to tell

bit,

and opened

me which would

the edges touched

would be over the

:

a few

left.

out.

overlap the

moments longer

This was the time

to intervene.

With

a straw

I

gently changed the position, bringing

In spite of some protest

the left edge over the right.

from the

insect I

was quite

successful:

case pushed forward, though only very

[192]

the left winglittle.

Then

I

THE CRICKET and gradually the wing-cases matured

left it alone,

The

the inverted position. I

in

Cricket was left-handed.

expected soon to see him wield the fiddlestick which

the

members of his family never employ.

On

the third

day he made a

sounds were heard shifting

its

straw!

the noise of a machine out of gear

had been over-confident

I

thought

and

I

Then

the

accustomed tone and rhythm.

its

I

mentalist,

A few brief grating

parts back into their proper order.

tune began, with Alas,

—

start.

in

my

mischievous

had created a new type of

I

had obtained nothing at

instru-

all!

The

Cricket was scraping with his right fiddlestick, and

always would. his shoulders,

He

way.

on

which

I

a painful effort he had dislocated

had forced

to

harden in the wrong

had put back on top that which ought

and underneath that which ought

top,

neath.

With

My

sorry science tried to

player of him.

He

laughed at

my

make

to

be

to be under-

a left-handed

devices,

and

settled

down to be right-handed for the rest of his life. Enough of the instrument; let us listen to the music. The Cricket sings on the threshold of his house, in the cheerful sunshine, never indoors. The wing-cases utter their cri-cri in a soft tremolo.

It

is full,

sonorous, nicely

Thus

are the leisures

cadenced, and lasts indefinitely.

of solitude beguiled at

first

sings for his

all

through the spring.

own

pleasure.

Glad

The hermit

to be alive, he

chants the praises of the sun that shines upon him, the

[193]

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

grass that feeds him, the peaceful retreat that harbours

The

him.

of

first

object of his

bow

to

is

hymn

the pleasures

life.

Later on he plays to his mate. his attention

is

rewarded with

end she quarrels with him takes to flight she cripples

But indeed,

or less.

he escapes

We are

his

in

But, to

little

the truth,

gratitude; for in the

ferociously,

him

tell

—and even

any case he soon

and unless he eats

him more

Even

dies.

pugnacious mate, he perishes

in

June.

told that the music-loving Greeks used to keep

Cicadre in cages, the better to enjoy their singing.

venture to disbelieve the story.

close quarters,

is

first

a torture to ears that are at

place the at

all delicate.

Greeks' sense of hearing was too well trained to take

pleasure in such raucous sounds concert of the fields, which

In the second place

up

In the

I

when long continued

harsh clicking of the Cicadae,

The

if

it is

is

or

plane-tree.

the general

heard at a distance.

absolutely impossible to bring

Cicadae in captivity, unless

olive-tree

away from

A

we

cover over a whole

single

day spent

cramped enclosure would make the high-flying

a

in

insect die

of boredom. Is it

not possible that people have confused the Cricket

with the Cicada, as they also do the Green Grasshopper?

With the Cricket they would be who bears captivity gaily: his [194]

quite right.

He

is

one

stay-at-home ways pre-

THE CRICKET dispose him to

He

it.

and whirrs without

lives happily

ceasing in a cage no larger than a man's that he has his lettuce-leaf every day.

whom the small boys of Athens reared

fist,

Was

provided not he

it

in little wire cages

hanging on a window-frame?

The

small boys of Provence, and all the South, have

the same tastes. child's

In the towns a Cricket becomes the

treasured possession.

pampered, sings

to

The

petted and

insect,

him of the simple joys of

the country.

death throws the whole household into a sort of

Its

mourning.

The

three other Crickets of

my

neighbourhood

all

carry the same musical instrument as the Field Cricket,

with slight variation of detail.

Their song

is

alike in all cases, allowing for differences of size.

much The

smallest of the family, the Bordeaux Cricket, sometimes

ventures into the dark corners of

song

is

so faint that

it

my

kitchen, but his

takes a very attentive ear to hear

it.

The

Field Cricket sings during the sunniest hours of

the spring: during the Italian Cricket. pale,

You him

He

still

summer

nights

we have

the

a slender, feeble insect, quite

is

almost white, as beseems his nocturnal habits. are afraid of crushing him, if

in your fingers.

every kind, or on the

He

you so much

lives high in air,

taller grasses;

[195]

as take

on shrubs of

and he rarely de-

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

His song, the sweet music of

scends to earth.

the

still,

hot evenings from July to October,- begins at sunset and

continues for the best part of the night.

This song the smallest

slow

soft,

known

is

to

everybody here

clump of bushes has

gri-i-i gri-i-i

slight tremolo.

If

is

in

Provence, for

The

orchestra.

its

made more

expressive by a

nothing happens to disturb the insect

the sound remains unaltered; but at the least noise the

You

musician becomes a ventriloquist. close, in front of

him

you; and then,

fifteen yards

It is not there:

it

of a sudden, you hear

all

You move

away.

towards the sound.

comes from the original place.

No,

over there on the

does

it

doesn't after

it

come from behind?

Is it

all.

One

is

left, or

absolutely at a

unable to tind the spot where the music

This illusion of varying distance ways.

hear him quite

The sounds become loud

is

is

loss,

chirping.

produced

or soft,

quite

in

two

open or muffled,

according to the exact part of the lower wing-case that is

And

pressed by the bow.

they are also modified by

the position of the wing-cases.

For the loud sounds

these are raised to their full height: for the muffled

The

pale Cricket

him by pressing

the edges of

sounds they are lowered more or misleads those

who hunt

for

less.

his vibrating flaps against his soft body. I

his,

know no heard

How

prettier or

in the

often have

deep I

lain

more limpid insect-song than

stillness of

down on [196]

an August evening.

the ground

among

the

THE CRICKET rosemary bushes of concert

The

my

harmas, to listen to the delightful

I

Italian Cricket

swarms

in

my

tuft of red-flowering rock-rose has

chorister; so has

its

The bushy

every clump of lavender.

arbutus-shrubs,

And

the turpentine-trees, all become orchestras.

whole of

clear voice, so full of charm, the

Every

enclosure.

in its

this little

world, from every shrub and every branch, sings of the

gladness of

life.

High up above my head cross

along the Milky

insect's

symphony

telling its joys

Those

Way:

stretches all

great

its

round me, the

Infinitesimal

falls.

makes me forget the pageant of the

celestial eyes look

but do not

below,

and

rises

Swan

the

stir a fibre

down upon me,

—

that those suns

warm worlds

life.

said, this belief is

stars.

placid and cold,

Why? They

within me.

the great secret

life

Our reason

lack

tells us, it is true,

like ours;

but when

no more than a guess,

it

is

all is

not a

certainty.

In your company, on the contrary, feel the throbbing of life,

of clay; and that

is

which

is

why, under

O my

Cricket, I

the soul of our

my

lump

rosemary-hedge, I

give but an absent glance at the constellation of the

Swan and devote living

—

speck

all

attention to your serenade

merest

the

pleasure and pain,

my

is

far

dab

of

life

more interesting

the immensities of mere matter.

[197]

I

—capable

to

me

than

A of all

CHAPTER

XIII

THE SISYPHUS

YOU

are not tired,

hope, of hearing about the

I

Scavenger Beetles with a talent for making balls.

I

have told you of the Sacred Beetle

and of the Spanish Copris, and now

I

wish to say a few

words of yet another of these creatures.

In the insect

world we meet with a great many model mothers: only

fair, for

Now

a

it is

once to draw attention to a good father.

good father

higher animals.

The

is

rarely seen except

bird

among

the

is

excellent in this respect,

and the furred folk perform

their duties honourably.

Lower

in

the scale of living creatures the

generally indifferent to his family.

Very few

is

insects

This heartlessness, which

are exceptions to this rule.

would be detestable

father

in the higher ranks of the

animal

kingdom, where the weakness of the young demands prolonged care,

is

excusable

among

insect fathers.

robustness of the new-born insect enables its

food unaided, provided

When

all that the Pieris

race

to lay her eggs

is

it

it

For the to gather

be in a suitable place.

need do for the safety of the

on the leaves of a cabbage, of what

use would a father's care be"?

[198]

The

mother's botanical

THE SISYPHUS no

instinct needs

assistance.

At laying-time the other

parent would be in the way.

Most insects adopt this simple method of upbringing. They merely choose a dining-room which will be the home of the family once it is hatched, or else a place that will allow the

There

selves.

He

young ones is

to find suitable fare for them-

no need for the father

in such cases.

generally dies without lending the least assistance

in the

work of setting up

his offspring in life.

Things do not always happen, however, in quite such a primitive fashion.

dowry for

There are

in advance.

The Bees and Wasps

lar are masters in the industry of

and

and lodging

for their families, that prepare board

them

satchels, in

provide a

tribes that

making

in particu-

cellars, jars,

which the ration of honey

is

hoarded:

they are perfect in the art of creating burrows stocked

with the game that forms the food of their grubs.

Well,

this

enormous labour, which

and provisioning combined, whole

life is spent, is

wears her out;

it

is

this toil in

one of building

which the

insect's

done by the mother alone.

utterly exhausts her.

The

It

father drunk

with sunlight, stands idle at the edge of the workyard,

watching

is

his

plucky helpmate at her job.

Why does he not lend the mother a helping hand? It now or never. Why does he not follow the example

of the Swallow couple, both of

whom

bring their bit of

straw, their blob of mortar to the building

[199]

and

their

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S Midge

to the

He

young ones?

does nothing of the kind.

Possibly he puts forward his comparative weakness as an excuse.

It is

a poor argument; for to cut a disk out of

a leaf, to scrape

some cotton from a downy plant, to

collect a little bit of

cement

overtax his strength.

He

rate as a labourer; he

is

muddy

in

places

could very easily help, at any

quite

fit

to gather materials for

the mother, with her greater intelligence, to

The

real reason of his inactivity

It is

would not

is

in place.

fit

sheer incapability.

strange that the most gifted of the industrial

insects should

know nothing

would expect the highest

of a father's duties.

talents to be developed in

One him

by the needs of the young; but he remains as dull-witted as a Butterfly,

We

whose family

reared at so small a cost.

is

are baffled at every turn

Why

by the question:

a particular instinct given to one insect

and denied

is

to

another? It baffles us so

prised

when we

thoroughly that

we

are extremely sur-

find in the scavenger the noble qualities

that are denied to the honey-gatherer.

Various Scaven-

ger Beetles are accustomed to help in the burden of

housekeeping, and harness.

know

the value of working in double

The Geotrupes

couple, for mstance, prepare

their larva's food together: the father lends his

mate the

assistance of his powerful press in the manufacture of

the tightly packed sausage-shaped ration.

[200]

He

is

a splen-

THE SISYPHUS did example of domestic habits, and one extremely surprising amid the general egoism.

To

this

my

example

me

have enabled

constant studies of the subject

add three

to

others, all furnished

by

the Guild of Scavengers.

One

of them

is

the Sisyphus, the smallest

He

zealous of all our pill-rollers.

most agile of them

is

and most and

the liveliest

and recks nothing of awkward

all,

somersaults and headlong falls on the impossible roads to which his obstinacy brings It

was

him back again and

in reference to these wild gymnastics that La-

gave him the name of Sisyphus.

treille

As you know, that unhappy wretch of had a

again.

He

terrible task.

uphill;

was forced

and each time he succeeded

classical

to roll a

fame

huge stone

in toiling to the top

of the mountain the stone slipped from his grasp and rolled to the bottom.

tory of a good

many

for half a century

I like this

and more

steep ascent, spending

struggle to hoist

daily bread. off, slides

up

I

my

am

concerned,

have painfully climbed the strength recklessly in the

is

is

the loaf balanced

when

it

my

slips

lost in the abyss.

The Sisyphus with whom we none of these

far as I

It is the his-

to safety that crushing burden,

Hardly

down, and

So

of us.

myth.

bitter trials.

are

now concerned knows

Untroubled by the steep

slopes he gaily trundles his load, at one time bread for himself, at another bread for his children.

[201]

He

is

very

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S scarce in these parts;

should never have managed

I

number

to secure a suitable

had

and

of subjects for

whom

not been for an assistant

it

I

my

studies

have already

mentioned more than once. I

my

speak of

enthusiastic

knows

little

Cicada,

my

companion on

any one of

better than

Locust,

the

He

son Paul, aged seven.

the

is

my

hunting expeditions, and his

age the secrets of the

Cricket,

and especially the

Twenty paces away his sharp eyes the real mound that marks a burrow

Scavenger Beetle. will distinguish

from casual heaps of

His delicate

earth.

the Grasshopper's faint song, which

me.

He

change,

lends

me

present

ears catch

quite unheard by

is

and hearing; and

his sight

him with

ideas,

which

I,

he

in ex-

receives

attentively. Little

Paul has

his

own

insect-cages, in

Sacred Beetle makes pears for him; his

no

own

which the garden,

little

larger than a pocket-handkerchief, where he

beans, often digging them

any longer;

up

to see if the tiny roots are

his forest plantation, in

oaks a hand's-breadth high,

grows

still

with the acorn that feeds them.

which stand four

furnished on one side It all

makes a welcome

change from grammar, which gets on none the worse for it.

When

the

month

of

May

get up early one morning

our breakfast

—

is

near at hand Paul and

so early that

—and we explore, [202]

we

start

I

without

at the foot of the

moun-

— THE SISYPHUS meadows where

tain, the

we

Paul

find the Sisyphus.

that

we soon have

All that

number

of couples.

their well-being

which we too turn scavengers.

is

a wire-gauze their

A dumpy

end of which a Spider's

is

when

outspread.

The

I

And

so

body, the hinder

and very long

pointed,

food

These creatures

are so small, hardly the size of a cherry-stone

curious in shape withal!

Here

so zealous in his search

bed of sand and a supply of

cover, with a to obtain

is

a sufficient

needed for

is

the flocks have been.

legs,

resembling

hind-legs are of amaz-

ing length, and are curved, which

is

most useful for

clasping and squeezing the pellet.

Soon the time comes

With equal

zeal father

for

establishing

and mother

the

family.

alike take part in

kneading, carting, and stowing away the provisions for the

young

With

ones.

morsel of the right size

is

The two

their disposal.

gether, giving

the cleaver of the fore-legs a

it little

cut from the food placed at insects

work

pats, pressing

at the piece to-

it,

and shaping

it

into a ball as large as a big pea.

As

in the Sacred Beetle's workshop, the accurately

round shape

is

obtained without the mechanical trick

of rolling the ball.

sphere before its

support.

it is

The

material

moved, before

it is

is

modelled into a

even loosened from

Here, once more, we have an expert in

geometry familiar with the best form for preserving food.

[203]

FABRE'S The

ball

rolling, be

BOOK OF INSECTS

soon ready.

is

It

must now, by vigorous

given the crust which will protect the soft

The mother, who

from becoming too dry.

stuff within

can be recognised by her slightly larger

size,

herself in the place of honour, in front.

With

hind-legs on the ground

she hauls

behind

it

and her

fore-legs

The

towards her, backwards.

her long

on the

same method

when working

in twos,

ball,

father pushes

reverse position, head downwards.

in the

precisely the

harnesses

It is

as that of the Sacred Beetle

but

it

The

has another object.

Sisyphus team conveys a store of food for the grubs,

whereas the big

banquet which they

pill-rollers trundle a

themselves will eat up underground.

The couple no

start off

definite goal, but

along the ground.

walk

in a direct line,

Tliey have

without regard

In this backward

to the obstacles that lie in the way.

march the obstacles could not be avoided; but even

if

they were seen the Sisyphus would not try to go round

them.

For she even makes obstinate attempts

the wire-work of possible task.

my

This

cage.

to climb

an arduous and im-

is

Clawing the meshes of the gauze with

her hind-legs the mother pulls the load towards her; then, putting her fore-legs

pended

in air.

The

round

it,

she holds

it

sus-

father, finding nothing to stand

upon, clings to the ball

—

encrusts himself in

it,

so to

speak, thus adding his weight to that of the lump,

taking no further pains.

The

effort

is

and

too great to last.

THE SISYPHUS The mother harnesses I

herself in the place of honour, in front. he father pushes behind in the reverse position, head dozvmvards

THE SISYPHUS The ball and its rider, forming one mass, fall to the floor. The mother, from above, looks down for a moment in and then drops

surprise,

to recover the load

her impossible attempt to scale the side. falls the

climb

Even on without

and renew

After repeated

abandoned.

is

ground the carting

level

is

not carried on

At every moment the load swerves

difficulty.

on some mound made by a

bit of gravel;

and the team

topple over and kick about, upside down. the merest

trifle,

fling the Sisyphus

would even think he to be this

is

his back, cause

liked them.

him no concern one ;

After

all,

the ball has

And

hardened and made of the right consistency.

being the case, bumps

the programme.

This

a

These tumbles, which so often

trifle.

on

This

falls,

mad

and

of

jolts are all part

on

steeple-chasing goes

for

hours.

At

last the mother, regarding the

goes off a

little

way

work

as completed,

The

in search of a suitable spot.

father mounts guard, squatting on the treasure.

If his

companion's absence be unduly long, he relieves

boredom by spinning the lifted hind legs.

He

juggler treats his ball. his

curved

who

sees

legs, the

him

ball

nimbly between

his

his up-

treats his precious pellet as a

He

tests its perfect

shape with

branches of his compasses.

No

one

frisking in that jubilant attitude can doubt

his lively satisfaction

—

the satisfaction of a father as-

sured of his children's future.

[205]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S "It

who made

loaf, I

And

he

who kneaded

he seems to say, "I

I,"

is

lifts

my

bread for

this

on high, for

sons

this

round

I"

magnificent

all to see, this

testimony to his industry.

Meanwhile

A

row.

shallow pit

The

work.

the mother has chosen a site for the bur-

ball

is

made, a mere beginning of the

is

rolled near

The

it.

father, that vigi-

lant guardian, does not let go, while the mother digs

Soon the hollow

with her legs and forehead.

enough

She

to hold the pellet.

must

close to her; she

feel

insists

on having

is

it

big

quite

bobbing up and down be-

it

hind her, on her back, safe from parasites, before she

She

decides to go farther.

happen

to

until the

were

if it

it

left

afraid of

is

on the edge of the burrow

home were completed.

There are plenty of

insects to grab

Midges and other such

what might

it.

One cannot

be too careful.

The

ball therefore

inserted, half in

is

the partly-formed basin.

her legs round

down

gently,

and

falling earth.

and

it

and half out of

The mother, underneath,

gets

the father above, lets

pulls:

sees that the hole

is

not choked up with

The digging

All goes well.

it

resumed

is

and the descent continues, always with the same caution; one of the insects pulling the load, the other regulating the drop

and clearing away anything that might hinder

the operation.

appears

A

few more

underground

witli

efforts,

the

[206]

and the

ball dis-

two miners.

What

THE SISYPHUS follows for some time to come can only be a repetition of what has already been done. must wait half

We

a

day

or so. If

we keep

up again

careful watch

to the surface

sand near the burrow.

we

shall see the father

come

by himself, and crouch in the Detained below by duties in

which her companion can be of no assistance to her, the mother usually postpones her appearance till

the

morrow.

At

last she

the place where he

shows

herself.

The

was snoozing, and joins

father leaves her.

The

re-

united couple go back to the spot where their food-stuffs are to be found, and having refreshed themselves they gather up more materials.

The two then

Once more they model,

again.

cart,

and

set to

work

store the ball

together. I

am

delighted with this constancy.

the rule I dare not declare. flighty, fickle Beetles.

gives

me

That

it is

really

There must, no doubt, be

No matter

:

the little

I

have seen

a high opinion of the domestic habits of the

Sisyphus. It

IS

time to inspect the burrow.

find a tiny niche, just large to

move round

her work.

At no great depth we enough to allow the mother

The

smallness of the chamber

us that the father cannot remain there for long. When the studio is ready, he must go away to leave the tells

sculptress

The

room

to turn.

contents of the cellar consist of a single ball, a

[207]

FABRE'S masterpiece of

pear on a very

BOOK OF INSECTS It is a

art.

much reduced

the polish of the surface all

the

more

copy of the Sacred Beetle's

striking.

scale, its

smallness making

and the elegance of the curves Its

diameter, at the broadest

point, measures one-half to three-quarters of an inch.

One more

observation

about

Sisyphus.

the

couples under the wire-gauze cover gave pears containing one egg each

grubs to each couple.

this large

brood?

father works as that

I

when

there are

The Sacred

Beetle

cause are

two

we

is

far

from

to attribute

can see but one: the fact that the

well as the mother.

would exceed

fifty-seven

—an average of over nine

To what

reaching this figure.

me

Six

Family burdens

the strength of one are not too to bear them.

[208]

heavy

CHAPTER XIV THE CAPRICORN THE GRUB

AN

S

HOME

eighteenth-century philosopher,

Condillac,

describes an imaginary statue, organised like a

man, but with none of a man's then pictures the effect of endowing senses,

one by one, and the

of smell.

The

statue,

first

it

He

senses.

with the five

sense he gives

it is

that

having no sense but smell,

in-

hales the scent of a rose, and out of that single impression creates a whole world of ideas.

some happy moments

come

my

In

to that statue.

I

youth

seemed

I

owed

to see it

to life in that action of the nostrils, acquiring

memory, concentration, judgment, and other mental qualities,

even as

still

waters are aroused and rippled

by the impact of a grain of sand. illusion

I

recovered from

my

under the teaching of my abler master the animal.

The Capricorn taught me scure than the

that the problem

Abbe Condillac

When my winter

led

me

is

more ob-

to suppose.

supply of firewood

is

being prepared

woodman

for

me

my

express orders, the oldest and most ravaged trunks

with wedge and mallet, the

[209]

selects,

by

FABKE'S in his stack.

My

BOOK OF INSECTS

tastes bring a smile to his lips; he

wonders by what whimsy

I

prefer

wood

eaten to sound wood, which burns so

my

liave

that

much

is

worm-

better.

views on the subject, and the wortliy

I

man

submits to them.

A

fine oak-trunk,

seamed with

scars

wounds, contains many treasures for

and gashed with

my

studies.

mallet drives home, the wedges bite, the

and within,

in the

wood

The splits;

dry and hollow parts, are revealed

groups of various insects who are capable of living through the cold season, and have here taken up their winter quarters.

In the low-roofed galleries built by

some Beetle the Osmia Bee has piled her the other.

In the deserted chambers and

Megachiles have arranged their leafy

wood,

filled

cells

jars.

vestibules

In the live

with juicy sap, the larva of the Capricorn,

the chief author of the oak's undoing, has set

Truly they are strange

them of two

up

its

home.

creatures, these grubs: bits of

intestines crawling about! I find

one above

In the middle of

different ages.

The

Autumn

older are almost

as thick as one's finger; the others hardly attain the

diameter of a pencil.

nymph more

I find, in

or less fully coloured,

addition, the

pupa or

and the perfect

insect

ready to leave the trunk when the hot weather comes again.

Life inside the wood, therefore, lasts for three

years.

How

is

this

longperiod of solitude and captivity spent?

[210]

THE CAPRICORN In wandering lazily through the thickness of the oak, in

making roads whose rubbish

book of Job "swallows the ground"

in the

Capricorn's grub eats

speech: the

With short

carpenter's-gouge

its

—a

—

it

horse

in a figure of

way

its

literally.

strong black mandible,

and without notches, but scooped

edged spoon

The

serves as food.

digs the opening of

into a sharp-

tunnel.

its

From

the piece cut out the grub extracts the scanty juices, while

The path

the refuse accumulates behind him in heaps. is

devoured as

it is

made;

blocked behind as

it is

it

makes

way ahead. Since this harsh work

two curved

done with the two gouges, the

chisels of the mandibles, the Capricorn-grub

much

requires

is

strength in the front part of

which therefore swells into a

its

body,

The Bu-

sort of pestle.

prestis-grub, that other industrious carpenter, adopts a

similar form,

that toils

and even exaggerates

The

which has but to follow

essential thing

is

The part

pestle.

and carves hard wood requires

rest of the body,

slim.

its

to be robust

;

the

after, continues

that the implement of the

jaws should possess a solid support and powerful ma-

The Capricorn

chinery.

larva strengthens

its

chisels

with a stout, black, horny armour that surrounds the

mouth;

yet, apart

from

its

skull

and

its

equipment of

and

white

tools, this

grub has a skin as

fine as satin

as ivory.

This dead white

caused by a thick layer of

grease,

is

as

which one would not expect a diet of wood to [211]

FABRE'S produce

in the

BOOK OF INSECTS True,

animal.

has nothing to do, at

it

The quanits stomach makes up for the

every hour of the day and night, but gnaw. tity of

wood

that passes into

lack of nourishing qualities.

The are

grub's legs can hardly be called legs at all

mere suggestions of the

legs the full-grown insect

They

have by and by.

will

and of no use whatever

are infinitesimal in size,

They do not even

for walking.

touch the supporting surface, being kept

plumpness of the

off

it

The organs by means

chest.

they

;

by the

of which

the animal progresses are something altogether different.

The grub

of the Rose-chafer, with the aid of the hairs

and pad-like projections upon

its

and

its

The grub

back.

more ingenious

it

:

moves

To

stomach.

manages to

spine,

method of walking, and

reverse the usual

along on

its

to wriggle

of the Capricorn

at the

same time on

take the place of

is

even

its

back

useless legs

its

it

has a walking apparatus almost like feet, which appear, contrary to every rule, on the surface of

On there

the middle part of is

its

back.

its

body, both above and below,

a row of seven four-sided pads, which the grub

can either expand or contract, making them stick out or lie flat at will.

walks.

When

It is it

by means of these pads that

wishes to

move forwards

it

it

expands

the hinder pads, those on the back as well as those on the

stomach, and contracts

its

front pads.

the hind pads in the narrow gallery

[212]

fills

The up

swelling of

the space,

and

THE CAPRICORN gives the grub something to push against.

At the same

time the flattening of the front pads, by decreasing the size of the grub, allows

a step.

Then,

to

it

complete the step, the hind-quarters

must be brought up the same the front pads

fill

forward and take half

to slip

With

distance.

this object

out and provide support, while those

behind shrink and leave room for the grub to draw up its

hind-quarters.

With

the double support of

back and stomach, with

and shrinkings, the animal

alternate swellings

advances or retreats along

which the contents

its

fill

its

gallery, a sort of

But

without a gap.

grip only on one side progress becomes

When placed on

the smooth

wriggles slowly;

it

wood of my

gash made by the wedge, its

This

is

impossible.

table the animal

Laid on the surface of a

it

twists

all it

it

a

little,

can do.

remain inert and absolutely

to the

and writhes, moves

body very slowly from

right to left, lifts

again.

the pads

uneven surface due

piece of split oak, a rough,

and

mould

lengthens and shortens without pro-

gressing by a hair's breadth.

the front part of

if

easily

lowers

it,

left to right

and begins

The rudimentary

legs

useless.

II

THE grub's sensations Though legs, the

the Capricorn-grub possesses

-germs of future limbs, there

[213]

is

these

useless

no sign of the

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

eyes with which the fully-developed insect will be richly

The

gifted.

larva has not the least trace of any organs

What would

of sight.

do with

it

sight, in the

Hearing

thickness of a tree-trunk'?

is

murky

likewise absent.

In the untroubled silence of the oak's inmost heart the

would be superfluous.

sense of hearing

what use

are lacking, of

is

Where sounds

the faculty of discerning

them?

To make

the matter certain

If split lengthwise the grub's

periments.

a half-tunnel,

in

When

doings.

which

left

a while, gnawing at fixed

by

carried out

I

its

I

alone its

some ex-

abode becomes

can watch the occupant's alternately

it

and

gallery,

works

for

rests for awhile,

pads to the two sides of the tunnel.

I

took

advantage of these moments of

rest to inquire into its

The banging

of hard bodies, the ring

power of hearing.

of metallic objects, the grating of a

file

upon a saw, were

attention.

The animal remained impassive: not a a movement of the skin, no sign of awakened I succeeded no better when I scratched the

wood near

it

tried in vain.

wince, not

with a hard point, to imitate the sound of

some other grub at work difference to

my

lifeless object.

Can

it

The

in its neighbourhood.

in-

noisy tricks could be no greater in a

The animal

smeir?

is

Everything

deaf. tells

us that

it

cannot.

But

the

Capricorn-grub need not go in quest of eatables.

It

Scent

is

of assistance in the search for food.

THE CAPRICORN feeds on

home;

its

it

on the wood that gives

lives

ter.

Nevertheless I tested

wood

I

made

wood

teristic

shel-

In a log of fresh cypress

it.

a groove of the same width as that of the

natural galleries, and I placed the grub inside press

it

strongly scented;

Cy-

it.

it

has the smell charac-

of most of the pine family.

This resinous scent,

is

so strange to a grub that lives always in oak, ought to

vex

to trouble it;

it,

and

it

should show

its

by some kind of commotion, some attempt It

did nothing of the kind

position in the groove

could go, and before

it,

Again no line.

when I deny is

is

result.

I

to the end, as far as

Then

movement.

do not think

:

I

am

it

I set

going too far

But such

taste!

The food

oak, for three years at a stretch,

What

and

can the grub's palate find to enjoy

monotonous fare?

in this

had found the right

channel, a piece of camphor.

there no doubt.

else.

away.

the creature a sense of smell.

without variety

nothing

further

it

to get

Camphor was followed by naphtha-

effect.

no

once

went

it

in its usual

Still

Taste

made no

:

displeasure

The

agreeable sensation of

a fresh piece, oozing with sap the uninteresting flavour ;

of an over-dry piece.

These, probably, are the only

changes in the meal.

There remains the sense of touch, the universal pas-

common to all live flesh that quivers under the The Capricorn-grub, therefore, is limited pain.

sive sense

goad of to

two

senses, those of taste

and

[215]

touch,

and both of these

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S it

possesses only in a very small degree.

It is

very

little

The imaginary being

better oif than Condillac's statue.

created by the philosopher had one sense only, that of smell, equal in delicacy to our

own;

the real being, the

oak-eater has two, which are inferior even

The

gether to the one sense of the statue.

when put

to-

latter plainly

perceived the scent of a rose, and clearly distinguished it

from any

A

other.

vain wish has often come to

me

in

my

dreams

:

to

be able to think, for a few minutes, with the brain of

my

Dog, or to see the world with the eyes of a Gnat.

How

things

would change

would change much more

little;

its

It

when not

to the skin.

This

parison with

this, the

knows

\'ery

taste*?

that the best bits of

carefully smoothed, are painful

the limit of

is

Can

judged, and reasoned. it

its

wisdom.

reason'?

It

remembered, compared,

the Capricorn-grub

described

I

it

a

as a bit of intestine that crawls about.

tion gives an

answer

In com-

statue with the sensitive nostrils

was a marvel of knowledge.

Can

and

a special kind of flavour, and that the sides

of a passage,

ber'?

But they

has that incomplete crea-

senses of touch

almost nothing.

wood have

appearance!

understood only with the

if

What

intellect of the grub.

ture learnt through

in

to these questions.

the sensations of a bit of intestine, no

[216]

little

remem-

time ago

This descrip-

The grub

more and no

has

less.

THE CAPRICORN III

THE grub's foresight

And

this half-alive object, this nothing-at-all, is cap-

able of marvellous foresight.

of the present, but

it

It

knows hardly anything

sees very clearly into the future.

For three years on end the larva wanders about heart of the trunk. side

and

that;

it

It goes up, goes

down, turns

depths, where the temperature

when

and greater safety

the hermit

to this

leaves one vein for another of better

flavour, but without ever going too far

surface,

in the

is

reigns.

must leave

its

milder than near the

But a day

safe retreat

Eating

perils of the outer world.

from the inner

we have to get out of this. But how? For the grub, before

is

at

hand

and face the

not everything,

is

after all;

must turn

leaving the trunk,

And though

into a long-horned Beetle.

grub, being well equipped with tools

and muscular

strength, finds no difficulty in boring through the

and going where the

it

pleases,

coming Capricorn has

Beetle's short spell of life

Will

it

it

be able to clear

wood

by no means follows that the

same powers.

must be spent

itself a

the

way

in the

open

The air.

of escape?

It is quite plain, at all events, that the

Capricorn will

be absolutely unable to make use of the tunnel bored

by the grub.

This tunnel

is

a very long

[217]

and very

irregu-

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS maze, blocked with great heaps of wormed wood.

lar It

grows constantly smaller and smaller as

approaches

it

the starting-point, because the larva entered the trunk as slim as a tiny bit of straw, whereas to-day

thick as one's finger.

always dug

its

In

gallery to

its fit

is

it

three years* wanderings

the size of

its

as it

Evi-

body.

dently the road of the larva cannot be the Capricorn's

way

His overgrown antennae,

out.

inflexible armour-plates

corridor impassable.

cleared of larged.

its

It

would

I

winding to be

untouched

Is the insect

capable of

determined to find out.

made some

cavities of suitable size in

and

in

some oak logs

each of these cells

placed a Capricorn that had just been transformed

from the grub.

I

then joined the two sides of the logs,

When June came

fastening them together with wire. I

legs, his

greatly en-

easier to attack the

that had been chopped in two, I

find the narrow,

wormed wood, and, moreover,

would be

I

long

The passage would have

timber and dig straight ahead.

doing so?

his

heard a sound of scraping inside the

anxiously to see

if

the Capricorns

On

tives dead.

A

and waited

They Yet not

would appear.

had hardly three-quarters of an inch one came out.

logs,

opening the logs

to pierce. I

found

all

pinch of sawdust represented

my

cap-

all

they

had done. I

had expected more from

their sturdy mandibles.

In spite of their boring-tools the hermits died for lack of

[218]

THE CAPRICORN this

enclosing some in reed-stumps, but even

I tried

skill.

comparatively easy work was too much for them.

Some

freed themselves, but others failed.

Notwithstanding

his stalwart

appearance the Capri-

corn cannot leave the tree-trunk by his

The

efforts.

the grub

—

truth

is

way

that his

own unaided

prepared for him by

is

that bit of intestine.

Some presentiment

—

an unfathomable mystery

to us

—causes the Capricorn-grub

'

to leave its peaceful strong-

hold in the very heart of the oak and wriggle towards the outside, where to gobble

it

and gnaws

its

At

up.

foe the

the risk of

to the very bark.

film, the slenderest screen,

file

is

itself

way

the Capricorn's

The

out.

it

is

insect has

with his forehead, in order to bring

will even have nothing at all to do

way

and the world

the screen a little with his mandibles, to

against

He

only the thinnest

wide.

This to

between

quite likely

stubbornly digs

its life it

It leaves

is

Sometimes, even, the rash one opens the door-

at large.

way

Woodpecker

open, as often happens.

when

The

it

but

bump down.

the door-

unskilled car-

penter, burdened with his extravagant head-dress, will

come out from the darkness through the

summer heat

As soon business of

this

opening when

arrives.

as the

grub has attended to the important

making

to busy itself with

a

doorway into the world, its

it

begins

transformation into a Beetle.

[219]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S First,

it

requires space for the purpose.

some distance down passage digs

itself

and

gallery,

its

So

in the side of the

a trairsformation-chamber more sump-

tuously furnished and barricaded than any seen.

It is a

I

have ever

riximy hollow with curved walls, three to

four inches in length and wider than

width of the

retreats

it

it

is

high.

cell gives the insect a certain

The

degree of

freedom of movement when the time comes for forcing the barricade, which

would

The

more than a

is

do.

barricade

—

a door

—

protection from danger fold.

Outside,

which the larva builds as a is

twofold, and often three-

a stack of

it is

woody

of chopped timber; inside, a mineral all in

close-fitting case

refuse, of particles

piece, of a chalky white.

one

not always, there

added

is

to these

a concave cover,

lid,

Pretty often, but

two

layers an inner

casing of shavings.

Behind ments for

this threefold its

door the larva makes

transformation.

The

its

arrange-

sides of the

chamber

are scraped, thus providing a sort of

ravelled

woody

velvety stuff fast as

it is

is

fibres,

fixed

made.

down formed

This

broken into tiny shreds.

on the wall,

The chamber

of

in a thick coating, as

is

thus

padded through-

out with a fine swan's-down, a delicate precaution taken

by the rough grub out of kindness for the tender creature it

will

become when

Let us

it

has cast

now go back

to the

[220]

its

skin.

most curious part

ot

the

THE CAPRICORN furnishing, the cover or inner door of the entrance.

It

an oval skull-cap, white and hard as chalk, smooth within and rough without, with some resemblance to is

like

an acorn-cup.

The rough

knots show that the material

supplied in small, pasty mouthfuls, which become solid outside in little lumps. The animal does not remove them, because it is unable to get at them; but the inside is

surface

is

polished, being within the grub's reach.

singular lid It

IS,

is

as hard

and

This

brittle as a flake of limestone.

as a matter of fact,

of hme, and a sort

composed solely of carbonate of cement which gives consistency to

the chalky paste. I

am

convinced that

this

stony deposit comes from a

particular part of the grub's stomach, called the chylific ventricle.

and

The

chalk

is

kept separate from the food,

held in reserve until the right time comes to discharge it. This freestone factory causes me no astonishis

ment.

It serves for various chemical

works in different grubs when undergoing transformation. Certain Oilbeetles keep refuse in it, and several kinds of Wasps use it to

manufacture the shellac with which they varnish the

silk of their cocoons.

When

the exit

stered in velvet

way

is

prepared, and the cell uphol-

and closed with a threefold

the industrious grub has finished its tools,

sheds

its skin,

its task.

barricade,

It lays aside

and becomes a pupa

—weakness

personified, in the swaddling-clothes of a cocoon.

[221]

The

FABRE'S head

BOOK OF INSECTS

always turned towards the door.

is

This

triHing detail in appearance; but in reality

To

thing.

lie this

way or

that in the long cell

of great indifference to the grub, which

turning easily in ever position

it

it is is

is

a

every-

a matter

very supple,

is

narrow lodging and adopting what-

its

The coming Capricorn

pleases.

enjoy the same privileges.

Stiffly

will not

encased in his horny

armour, he will not be able to turn from end to end; he will not even be capable of bending,

curve should make the passage

without

will perish in

with

little

matter, and

head at the back of the

its

be infallibly

lost.

cell,

down

lie

must, or

he

If the grub

the transformation-room.

should forget this

He

difficult.

door in front of him,

the

find

fail,

some sudden

if

to sleep

the Capricorn

His cradle would become

would

a hopeless

dungeon.

But

there

is

no fear of

this danger.

knows too much about

testine"

formality of keeping

its

of spring the Capricorn,

The

the future to neglect the

head at the door.

now

"bit of in-

At

the

end

in possession of his full

strength, dreams of the joys of the sun, of the festivals

He

of light.

What

wants to get out.

does he find before him'?

filings easily dispersed

First,

a heap of

with his claws; next, a stone lid

which he need not even break into fragments, for

undone

in

one piece.

It is

removed from

its

it

comes

frame with

a few pushes of the forehead, a few tugs of the claws. r222"|

THE CAPRICORN In

fact, I find the lid intact

abandoned

Last comes a second mass of woody

cell.

remnants as easy free

:

on the threshold of the

to scatter as the

The road

first.

is

now

the Capricorn has but to follow the wide vestibule,

which will lead him, without any possibility of mistake, to the outer exit. Should the doorway not be open, all that he has to do

easy task.

is

to

gnaw through

Behold him outside,

a thin screen, an

his

long antennae quiver-

him?

Nothing from him,

ing with excitement.

What have we

learnt from

but much from his grub.

This grub, so poor in organs

of sensation, gives us much to think about.

knows

It

that the coming Beetle will not be able to cut himself

a road through the oak, and

him

at its

own

risk

and

therefore opens one for

it

peril.

knows that the Capri-

It

corn, in his stiif armour, will never be able to turn

and make

for the opening of the cell;

fall into its sleep of

the door.

and

it

It

transformation with

knows how

its

takes care to

head towards

soft the pupa's flesh will be,

enemy

is

against attack,

It

knows

likely to break in during the slow

of the transformation, and

it

it

upholsters the bedroom with velvet.

that the

knows

and

round

it

stores

so,

to

make a

lime inside

its

work

protection

stomach.

It

the future with a clear vision, or, to be accurate,

behaves as

if it

What makes

it

knew

the future.

act in this

taught by the experiences of

way? its

[223]

It is certainly

senses.

What

not

does

it

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS know

of the outside world?

astounds us

repeat

—

as

much

as a

this senseless creature

regret that the philosopher Cbndillac,

I

I

And

can know.

bit of intestine

I

instead of creating a statue that could smell a rose, did

not gift

How

with an instinct.

it

seen that the animals

— including

soon he would have

man

— have

powers

quite apart from the senses; inspirations that are born

with them, and are not the result of learning.

This curious

life

and

this

marvellous foresight are not

confined to one kind of grub. the

Oak

there

the Capricorn of the Cherry-tree.

is

appearance the latter a

much smaller

Besides the Capricorn of

an exact copy of the former, on

is

scale; but the little Capricorn has dif-

ferent tastes from

its

large kinsman's.

heart of the cherry-tree

formation

is

This habit

at hand.

If

we

search the

does not show us a single grub

it

anywhere: the entire population

and the wood.

In

Then

is

lives

between the bark

only varied when trans-

the grub of the cherry-tree

leaves the surface, and scoops out a cavity at a depth of

Here

about two inches.

the walls are bare:

they are

not lined with the velvety fibres dear to the Capricorn of the Oak.

The entrance

by sawdust, and a chalky

Need

in point of size.

and goes

to sleep with his

one forgets to take Tiicre

I

is

also a

is

blocked, however,

lid similar to the other

add that the grub

lies

head against the door'?

except

down Not

this precaution.

Saperda of the Poplar and a Saperda [224]

THE CAPRICORN They have

of the Cherry-tree.

and the same

tools

;

same organisation

the

but the former follows the methods

of the Capricorn of the Oak, while the latter imitates the

Capricorn of the Cherry-tree.

The

poplar-tree

to sleep.

It

makes no barricade, no heap of shavings.

in the apricot-tree the Nine-spotted Buprestis be-

haves in the same way.

by

by the Bronze Bu-

also inhabited

which takes no defensive measures before going

prestis,

And

is

its

intuitions to alter

coming Beetle. grub

In this case the grub

is

The

inspired

plan of work to suit the

its

perfect insect

The

a strap, a ribbon.

is

is

a cylinder; the

former, which wears

unyielding armour, needs a cylindrical passage; the latter needs a very

low tunnel, with a roof that

reach with the pads on

changes

its

its

back.

The grub

manner of boring: yesterday

it

can

therefore

the gallery,

suited to a wandering life in the thickness of the wood,

was a wide burrow with a very low to-day the passage bore

it

is

cylindrical.

more accurately.

ceiling,

A

almost a slot;

gimlet could not

This sudden change in the

system of roadmaking on behalf of the coming insect once more shows us the foresight of

this "bit of intes-

tme. I

could

tell

tools are the

you of many other wood-eaters.

Their

same; yet each species displays special

methods, tricks of the trade that have nothing to do with the tools.

These grubs, then,

like so

[225]

many

insects,

show

FABRE'S us

riiat

instinct

is

BOOK OF INSECTS

not

but that the same tools

To

made by

may

the tools, so to speak,

be used in various ways.

The

continue the subject would be monotonous.

general rule stands out very clearly from these facts: the wood-eating grubs prepare the path of deliverance for the perfect insect,

which will merely have to pass

a barricade of shavings or pierce a screen of bark.

By

a curious reversal of the usual state of things, infancy is

here the season of energy, of strong tools, of stubborn

work; mature age trial

is

the season of leisure, of indus-

ignorance, of idle diversions, without trade or pro-

fession.

The providence

mother; here the baby grub

With

its

human

of the is

infant

is

the

the mother's providence.

patient tooth, which neither the peril of the

outside world nor the difficult task of boring through

hard wood to the

is

able to discourage,

supreme delights of the sun.

it

[226]

clears

away

for her

CHAPTER Xy LOCUSTS

THEIR VALUE

MIND

you're ready, children, to-morrow morn-

ing before the sun gets too hot.

We're

going Locust-hunting."

This announcement throws the household into great excitement at bed-time. their

in

dreams?

What do my

little

helpers see

Blue wings, red wings, suddenly

flung out like fans; long saw-toothed legs, pale blue or pink, which kick out

when we hold

their

owners in our

fingers; great shanks that act like springs,

the insect leap forward as though shot If there be

and make

from a catapult.

one peaceful and safe form of hunting,

one in which both old age and childhood can share,

it

What delicious

Locust-hunting.

is I

How

delightful,

when

pick them from the bushes!

it

mornings we owe to

the mulberries are ripe, to

What

excursions

we have

had, on the slopes covered with thin, tough grass, burnt

yellow by the sun! mornings, and

my

I

have vivid memories of such

children will have them too.

[227]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S Little

Paul has nimble

piercing eye.

He

a ready hand, and a

legs,

clumps of everlastings,

inspects the

and peers closely into the bushes. Locust

flies

out like a

off at full speed,

mock Swallow

Suddenly a big Grey

The hunter

little bird.

first

makes

then stops and gazes in wonder at this

He

flying far away.

will have better

We shall not go home without a few

luck another time.

of those magnificent prizes.

Marie Pauline, who

younger than her brother,

is

watches patiently for the Italian Locust, with his pink

wings and carmine hind-legs; but she really prefers another, the

wears a is

Her

most ornamented of them' all.

St.

Andrew's

cross

on the small of

marked by four white, slanting

his back,

stripes.

too, patches of green, the colour of verdigris

With

her hand raised in the

air,

first

The

it!

treasure

into a paper funnel,

to the

bottom of

He

which wears,

on bronze.

ready to swoop down,

she approaches very softly, stooping low.

That's done

favourite

is

Whoosh!

quickly thrust head-

and plunges with one bound

it.

One by one our boxes are filled. Before the heat becomes too great to bear we are in possession of a number of specimens.

Imprisoned

will teach us something.

in

my

cages, perhaps they

In any case the Locusts have

given pleasure to three people at a small Locusts have a bad reputation,

books describe them as noxious.

[228]

I

I

cost.

know.

The

text-

take the liberty of

LOCUSTS doubting whether they deserve

this reproach, except, of

who

course, in the case of the terrible ravagers

scourge of Africa and the East.

been fastened on

all Locusts,

Their

though they

more useful than harmful.

As

far

are the

repute has

ill

are, I consider,

as

peasants have never complained of them.

know, our

I

What dam-

age do they do?

They

nibble the tops of the tough grasses which the

Sheep refuses to touch; they prefer the to the fat pastures; they browse

thin,

poor grass

on barren land that can

support none but them they live on food that no stomach ;

but theirs could use.

by the time they frequent the

Besides,

wheat

—the

only thing that might tempt them

long ago yielded

happen

its

grain and disappeared.

to get into the kitchen-gardens

bites, it is

fields the

not a crime.

A man

green

—has

If they

and take a few

can console himself for

a piece bitten out of a leaf or two of salad.

To

measure the importance of things by one's own

turnip-patch

man would sacrifice a it is

a horrible method.

The

short-sighted

upset the order of the universe rather than

dozen plums.

only to

And

is

kill

If he thinks of the insect at all,

it.

yet, think

what the consequences would be

the Locusts were killed.

if all

In September and October the

Turkeys are driven into the stubble, under charge of a child

armed with two long

reeds.

[229]

The expanse over

FABRE'S which the gobbling

flock slowly spreads

What do

They cram

do honour

Christmas table; they

flesh

themselves, that they

becomes firm and good to

cram themselves

they

wax

And

eat.

with?

snap them up, one here one

thistles

the birds do in this famine-

stricken desert? to the

and

bare, dry,

is

At the most, a few ragged

burnt by the sun. raise their heads.

BOOK OF INSECTS

With

may

fat; their

what do

pray,

They

Locusts.

greedy crops

there, till their

are filled with the delicious stuffing, which costs nothing,

though

its rich

flavour will greatly improve the Christ-

mas Turkey.

When

the Guinea-fowl roams about the farm, uttering

her rasping cry, what

is it

but above

which puff her out under the wings

all Locusts,

with a pad of

The Hen,

too,

fat,

she seeks?

Seeds, no doubt;

and give a better flavour

much

to our advantage,

is

to her flesh.

just as fond of

She well knows the virtues of that dainty

them.

dish,

which acts as a tonic and makes her lay more eggs.

When

left at liberty she rarely fails to lead her

to the stubble-fields, so that they

the nice mouthful skilfully.

may

family

learn to snap

up

In fact, every bird in the

poultry-yard finds the Locust a valuable addition to his bill

of fare.

It

is

still

Any who

is

more important outside

a sportsman,

the poultry-yard.

and knows the value of

the

legged Patridge, the glory of our southern

hills,

open the crop of the bird he has just

He

[230]

shot.

Red-

should

will find

:

LOCUSTS nine times out of ten, more or less crammed with

it,

The

Locusts.

Partridge dotes on them, preferring them

to seeds as long as he can catch them.

would almost make him forget

flavoured, nourishing fare

the existence of seeds, if

This highly-

it

were only there

year

all the

round.

The Wheat-ear,

too,

who

Locust to any other food. passage which,

is

so

good to

And

eat, prefers the

all the little birds

when autumn comes,

of

a halt in

call

Provence before their great pilgrimage, fatten themselves with Locusts as a preparation for the journey.

Nor tells

does

man

us

"Grasshoppers"

nourishment for

—

(he

means Locusts)

men and Camels.

dried, either roast or boiled,

".

author

— "are of good

Their claws, wings,

and head are taken away, and they and

An Arab

himself scorn them.

are eaten fresh or

and served with

flesh, flour,

herbs. .

.

Camels eat them greedily, and are given them

dried or roast, heaped in a hollow between two layers of

Thus also do the Nubians eat them. "Once, when the Caliph Omar was asked if lawful to eat Grasshoppers, he made answer:

charcoal.

"

'Would

.

that

I

had a basket of them

"Wherefore, from

to eat.'

this testimony, it is

[231]

it

.

were

"

very sure that,

by the Grace of God, Grasshoppers were given for his nourishment."

.

to

man

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS Without going that the Locust

as far as the

is

a gift of

Reptiles also hold him the stomach of the

I feel

prepared to say

to a multitude of birds. I

have found him

in

Lizard, and have often caught

Grey Lizard of the walls

the little

him

God

esteem.

in

Eyed

Arab

in the act of carrying

off.

Even him

the fish revel in him,

when good fortune

brings

The Locust leaps blindly, and without aim: he comes down wherever he is shot by the

to them.

definite

If the place

springs in his legs.

to be water, a fish gobbles

where he

him up

falls

happens Anglers

at once.

sometimes bait their hooks with a specially attractive Locust.

As

for his being

fit

nourishment for man, except

form of Partridge and young Turkey, doubtful.

Omar,

the

I

am

in the

a

little

mighty Caliph who destroyed the

library of Alexandria, wished for a basket of Locusts, is

true,

brains.

it

but his digestion was evidently better than his

Long

in the desert

before his day St. John the Baptist lived

on Locusts and wild honey; but

in his case

they were not eaten because they were good.

Wild honey from agreeable food, also

I

I

the pots of the Mason-bees

know.

Wishing

to taste the

is

very

Locust

once caught some, and had them cooked as the Arab

author advised.

We

all

queer dish at dinner.

It

praised by Aristotle.

I

of us, big and

little,

tried the

was much nicer than the Cicad;£

would go

to the length of saying

LOCUSTS it

—without,

good

is

however, feeling any desire for

more. II

THEIR MUSICAL TALENT

The Locust

possesses musical powers wherewith to

express his joys.

Consider him at

rest, blissfully digest-

With sharp

ing his meal and enjoying the sunshine.

strokes of the bow, three or four times repeated with a

He

pause between, he plays his tune. with

using

his great hind-legs,

and now both

The

one,

now

the other,

at a time.

result

obliged to

now

scrapes his sides

is

very poor, so slight indeed that

make use

sure that there

is

of

little

a sound at

Paul's sharp ear to

all.

Such as

I

am

make

it is, it is

like

the squeaking of a needle-point pushed across a sheet of

paper.

Their you have the whole song, which

is

very

nearly silence.

We

can expect no more than

very unfinished instrument. the Cricket's toothed

this

There

from the Locust's

is

nothing here like

bow and sounding-board.

lower edge of the wing-cases

is

The

rubbed by the thighs, but

though both wing-cases and thighs are powerful they have

no roughnesses to supply

friction,

and there

is

no sign of

teeth.

This artless attempt at a musical instrument can pro[233]

— FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

duce no more sound than a dry membrane will emit when

you rub

it

the insect lifts

for the sake of this small result

and lowers

appears perfectly as

And

yourself.

satisfied.

we rub our hands

thigh in sharp jerks,

its

It

rubs

its

way

together in sign of contentment,

of expressing

its

joy in

Observe the Locust when the sky

and the sun shines only

clouds,

is its

own

life.

partly covered with

There comes a

at times.

coming more and more active

The

is

That

At once the thighs begin

rift in the clouds.

much

sides very

with no intention of making a sound. particular

and

to scrape, be-

grows

as the sun

hotter.

strains are brief, but they are repeated as long as the

The sky becomes

sunshine continues.

and there the song

ceases; but

gleam of sunlight, always mistaking

it:

is

overcast.

renewed with the next There

in brief outburst.

here, in these

fond lovers of the

his crop

no

is

light,

we

The Locust has his

have a mere expression of happiness.

moments of gaiety when

Then

is

and the sun

full

is

kind.

Not The legs,

all the

Tryxalis,

who

has a pair of immensely long hind-

when even

keeps up a gloomy silence

brightest.

a

Locusts indulge in this joyous rubbing.

I

have never seen him move

bow he seems unable ;

to use

them

—

the sunshine his

is

shanks like

so long are they

for anything but hopping.

The

big

closure,

Grey Locust, who often

even

in the

visits

depth of winter, [234]

is

me also

in the en-

dumb

in

LOCUSTS consequence of the excessive length of his

way

of

the sun

is

has a peculiar weather,

when

mary bushes with

him

He

keeps up this per-

formance for a quarter of an hour at a time. is

in the rose-

wings unfurled and fluttering

his

rapidly, as though for flight.

ing

In calm

diverting himself. hot, I surprise

But he

legs.

His

so gentle, in spite of its extreme speed, that it

creates hardly

Others are

any rustling sound. worse

still

Pedestrian Locust,

who

One

off.

strolls

of these

white, and rosy.

The

flowers. it

His colouring

sunlight, which

below, has

is

and yellow below,

is

the

silvery,

as fresh as that of the

clearer

on those heights

a costume combining

His body

is

pale brown above

his big thighs are coral red, his hind-

legs a glorious azure-blue, with

But

is

made him

beauty with simplicity.

is

on foot on the ridges of

the Ventoux amid sheets of Alpine flowers,

than

flutter-

in spite of being such a

an ivory anklet

in front.

dandy he wears too

short a

coat.

His wing-cases

are merely wrinkled slips,

wings no more than stumps.

him

for a larva, but he

and he

will

With to him.

wear

this

first

time takes

indeed the full-grown insect,

incomplete garment to the end.

skimpy jacket of

The

wing-cases,

this

is

his

He is hardly covered as far

Any one seeing him for the

as the waist.

and

course, music

is

impossible

big thighs are there; but there are no

no grating edge

for the

[235]

bow

to rub upon.

FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS The one

other Locusts cannot be described as noisy, but this is

absolutely dumb.

In vain have the most delicate

This silent one must

ears listened with all their might.

have other means of expressing

What

his joys.

they

are I do not know.

know why the insect remains wthout wings, plodding wayfarer, when his near kinsmen on the same

Nor do

a

I

flying.

He

and wing-cases,

gifts

Alpine slopes have excellent means of possesses the beginnings of wings

inherited by the larva; but he does not develop these

He

beginnings and make use of them.

hopping, with no further ambition: he

on

foot, to

remain

-a

is

Pedestrian Locust,

one would think, acquire wings. crest to crest, over valleys

deep

in

To

persists

in

satisfied to

go

when he might,

flit

snow, to

rapidly from fly

from one

pasture to another, would certainly be great advantages to

him.

His fellow-dwellers on the mountain-tops

possess wings

and

are all the better for them.

It

would

be very profitable to extract from their sheaths the

sails

he keeps packed away in useless stumps; and he does not do

it.

Why?

No one knows why. surprises, these

sudden

Anatomy has leaps,

these puzzles, these

which defy our

curiosity.

In the presence of such profound problems the best thing is

to

bow

in all humility,

and pass [236]

on.

LOCUSTS III

THELR EARLY DAYS

The Locust mother Is not, in all cases, a model of affection. The Italian Locust, having laboriously halfburied herself in the sand, lays her eggs there and

immediately bounds away.

makes the

eggs, nor

they

It closes

lie.

least

of

its

She gives not a look at the

attempt to cover the hole where

own

accord, as best

natural falling-in of the sand.

It is

it

can,

by the

an extremely casual

performance, marked by an utter absence of maternal care.

The

Others do not forsake their eggs so recklessly.

ordinary Locust with the blue-and-black wings, for instance, after leaving her eggs in the sand, lifts her hindlegs high, sweeps

some sand into the

down by stamping

it

rapidly.

hole,

It is

watch the swift action of her slender

and presses

a pretty sight to legs,

giving alter-

nate kicks to the opening they are plugging. this lively

trampling the entrance to the home

and hidden away.

The

it

is

With closed

hole that contains the eggs

completely disappears, so that no ill-intentioned creature could find

Nor

is

rammers

it

by sight alone.

this

lies in

all.

The power

that works

the

the hinder thighs, which, as they rise

[237]

two

and

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS scrape lightly against the edge of the wing-cases.

fall,

This scraping produces a faint sound, similar with which the insect placidly

to that

lulls itself to sleep in the

sun.

The Hen

salutes with a song of gladness the egg she

just laid; she announces her performance to the

The Locust

neighbourhood.

celebrates the

whole

same event

"I have buried underground,"

with her thin scraper.

she says, "the treasure of the future."

Having made

she

nest safe

the

leaves

refreshes herself after her exertions with a fuls of green stuff,

and prepares

The Grey Locust mother

is

the

spot,

few mouth-

to begin again.

armed

at the tip of her

—and degrees — with

four short tools, arranged in pairs and

shaped

hooked

body

so

like a

are

other

female

fingernail.

Locusts

On

in

varying

the upper pair,

which are larger than the others, these hooks are turned

upwards; on the lower and smaller pair they are turned

downwards.

They form

a sort of claw,

out slightly, like a spoon. boring-tools with which the

and are scooped

These are the pick-axes, the

Grey Locust works.

With

these she bites into the soil, lifting the dry earth a

little,

mould.

She

as quietly as if she

might be working into

is

The at the

were digging

in butter;

in soft

and yet what the bore digs

hard, unyielding earth. best site for laying the eggs first

attempt.

I

is

not always found

have seen the mother make [238]

five

ITALIAN LOCUSTS 7

have buried underground," she says, "the treasure of the future"

LOCUSTS wells one after the other before finding a suitable place.

When

at last the business

to rise

from the hole

can see that she

is

in

is

over,

which she

and the is

insect begins

partly buried, one

covering her eggs with milk-white

foam, similar to that of the Mantis.

This foamy matter often forms a button at the entrance to the well, a knot which stands

by

the eye

the

soil.

When

its

attracts

whiteness against the grey background of

It is soft

this closing

away and

up and

and

sticky,

button

troubles no

is

but hardens pretty soon.

finished the mother

more about her

lays a fresh batch elsewhere after a

moves

eggs, of which she

few days.

Sometimes the foamy paste does not reach the face;

it

stops

some way down, and before long

with the sand that slips from the edge.

my

of

it is

Locusts in captivity

covered

in the case

always know, even when

concealed, exactly where the barrel of eggs

Its structure is

tions in detail.

Inside, there all

I

But

is

lie

in

lies.

always the same, though there are variaIt

is

sur-

is

always a sheath of solidified foam.

nothing but foam and eggs.

The eggs

the lower portion, packed one on top of

another; and the upper part consists only of soft, yield-

ing foam. the

young

This portion plays an important part when larvae are hatched.

I will call it the

ascend-

ing-shaft.

The wonderful result of

any

egg-casket of the Mantis

is

not the

special talent which the mother can ex-

[239]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S crcise at will.

of

It

due

is

In the same

itself.

mechanism.

to

way

happens

It

the Locusts have no in-

dustry of their own, especially devised for laying eggs in a

keg of

The foam

froth.

is

produced with the eggs,

and the arrangement of eggs

at the

and

and

on

froth

outside

the

bottom and centre,

the

top,

purely

is

mechanical.

There are many Locusts whose egg-cases have last

to

through the winter, since they do not open until

Though

the fine weather returns.

dusty at rains.

first, it

the soil

is

loose

and

becomes caked together by the winter

Supposing that the hatching takes place a couple

of inches below the surface, ceiling, to

be broken'?

from below? ranged for

The

how

How

is

is

this crust, this

the larva to

hard

come up

mother's unconscious art has ar-

that.

The young Locust

finds

above him, when he comes

out of the egg, not rough sand and hardened earth, but a straight tunnel, with solid walls that keep ties

away.

This ascending-shaft

the larva can easily penetrate,

him quite

close to the surface.

is

all difficul-

full of foam,

and which

which

will bring

Here only a

finger's-

breadth of serious work remains to be done.

The

greater part of the journey,

complished without ing

is

effort.

Though

therefore,

it is

least in-

certainly singularly well devised.

1^40 J

ac-

the Locust's build-

done quite mechanically, without the

telligence,

is

LOCUSTS The

little

erance.

On

creature has

movements; and,

sible,

he

is

to complete his deliv-

leaving his shell he

clouded with light red. like

now

His progress

so that

may

it

made by worm-

is

be as easy as pos-

hatched, like the young Grasshopper, in a

temporary jacket which keeps closely

of a whitish colour,

is

fixed

to

Like

body.

his

antennae and legs

his

White-faced

the

Here

Decticus he keeps his boring-tool at his neck. there

is

a kind of tumour that swells and subsides

alternately,

and

strikes the obstacle before it as regularly

When

as a piston.

I see this soft

overcome the hardness of the earth

happy

creature's aid,

Even then

the

work

is

how

itself!

it

soil.

loins, before it

The wee

it

must

must persevere with

mite's eiforts

plainly that the journey to the light of day

mous undertaking,

to the un-

How

terribly hard.

throbbing head and writhing

a passage for

come

I

and damp the layer of

labour, the poor little thing, its

bladder trying to

in which the greater

is

can clear

show us an enor-

number would

die but for the help of the exit-tunnel, the mother's

work.

When rests for

the tiny insect reaches the surface at last,

a

moment

Then suddenly

to recover

from

the blister swells

temporary jacket

splits.

The

by the hind-legs, which are the

[241]

all that fatigue.

and

rags

last to

it

throbs,

are

and the

pushed back

be stripped.

The

FABRE'S thing yet,

is

BOOK OF INSECTS

done: the creature

but possessing

its final

is

free, pale in colouring as

form as a larva.

Immediately the hind-legs, hitherto stretched

The

straight line, fall into the correct position.

fold under the great thighs, and the spring

work.

is

a

legs

ready to

works. Little Locust makes his entrance into

It

and hops

the world,

for the

first

my

time.

him a

I offer

fingernail.

He

refuses

Before taking nourishment he must

first

mature

bit of lettuce the size of it.

in

and grow

in the sun.

IV

THEIR FINAL CHANGE I

have just beheld a

stirring sight: the last

change

of a Locust, the full-grown insect emerging from his larval

skin.

enthusiasm

is

common on

On is

It

the

is

magnificent.

Grey Locust,

—he

easier to observe than

fect insect,

the giant

as long as

is

any other of

event took place in one of fat,

object

my

of

who

is

so

the vines at vintage-time, in September.

account of his size

The

The

my

my

finger

his tribe.

—he The

cages.

ungraceful larva, a rough sketch of the peris

usually pale green; but some are blue-

green, dirty yellow, red-brown, or even ashen-grey, like the

grey of the

full-grown

Locust.

The

hind-legs,

which are as powerful as those of mature age, have a [242]

LOCUSTS great haunch striped with red and a long shank shaped like a

two-edged saw.

The

wing-cases are at present two skimpy, trian-

gular pinions, of which the free ends stand up like

These two

pointed gables.

of which the

coat-tails,

material seems to have been clipped short with ridiculous

meanness, just cover the creature's nakedness at the small of the back, and shelter two lean of the wings.

strips, the

In brief, the sumptuous slender

germs sails

of the near future are at present sheer rags, of such

meagre

From

size as to be grotesque.

these miserable

envelopes there will come a marvel of stately elegance.

The

first

thing to be done

to burst the old tunic.

is

All along the corselet of the insect there is

weaker than the

is

a line that

Waves

rest of the skin.

of blood

can be seen throbbing within, rising and falling nately, distending the skin until at last line of least resistance,

and opens

as

little

way

fastenings of the wings:

to right

and

Through

split is

it

the head as far as

sends a short branch

left.

this

break the back

hardly tinged with grey.

and

up

goes

the base of the antennae, where

The

and runs between the

back,

it

splits at the

though the two

symmetrical halves had been soldered.

continued some

it

alter-

larger hunch.

At

seen, quite soft, pale,

is

Slowly

last it

head follows, pulled out of

is

its

[243]

it

swells into a larger

wholly released.

The

mask, which remains

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS In its place, intact in the smallest particular,

ing strange with

but look-

The

great eyes that do not see.

its

sheaths of the antennie, without a wrinkle, with nothing

out of order, and with their usual position unchanged,

hang over

this

dead

face,

which

is

now

half transparent.

This means that the antennre within, although into narrow sheaths that enclose

them

fitted

as precisely as

withdraw without disturbing the

gloves, are able to

covers in the smallest degree, or even wrinkling them.

The

contents

manage

to slip out as easily as a smooth,

straight object could slip

mechanism

is

from a loose sheath.

even more remarkable

This

in the case of the

hind-legs.

Now

it is

the turn of the fore-legs and intermediary

legs to shed their armlets

and gauntlets, always without

the least rent, however small, without a crease of rumpled material, or a trace of

The

insect

is

now

any change

in the natural position.

fixed to the top of the cage only

claws of the long hind-legs.

It

hangs perpendicularly

by four tiny hooks, head downwards, and

pendulum

if I

by the

it

swings like a

touch the wire-gauze.

The wing-cases and wings now emerge.

These are

four narrow strips, faintly grooved and looking like bits of paper ribbon.

At

of their final length.

this stage

They

they are scarcely a quarter

are so limp that they

own weight and sprawl along the

under

their

in the

wrong

insect's sides

direction, with their points towards the

[244]

bend head

LOCUSTS Imagine four blades of thick

of the Locust.

and battered by a rain-storm, and you

grass,

bent

will have a fair

picture of the pitiable bunch formed by the future wings.

The

The

hind-legs are next released.

great thighs

appear, tinted on their inner surface with pale pink,

which will soon turn into a streak of bright crimson.

They come out of the sheath quite easily, for the thick haunch makes way for the tapering knuckle. The shank is a different matter. The shank of the full-grown insect bristles throughout

double row of hard, pointed spikes.

length with a

Moreover, the lower

extremity ends in four large spurs.

but with two parallel

its

It is

a genuine saw,

sets of teeth.

Now this awkwardly shaped skin is enclosed in a sheath that

is

formed

in exactly the

Each spur

same way.

hollow of a

fitted into a similar spur, each tooth into the

And the

similar tooth.

sheath

is

as close

is

and

as thin as a

coat of varnish.

Nevertheless the saw-like skin slips out of

narrow case without catching If I

had not seen

this

never have believed

in it at

its

any point whatever.

happen over and over again

The saw

it.

dainty scabbard which a puff of

long

I

could

does no injury to the

my

breath

is

enough to

tear; the formidable rake slips through without leaving

the least scratch behind

One would

it.

expect that, because of the spiked armour,

the envelope of the leg

would [245]

strip off in scales

coming

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS loose of themselves, or

But the

skin.

From

the spurs

there are

would be rubbed

off like

dead

reality exceeds all possible expectation.

and spikes of the

drawn spurs and

can cut soft wood.

This

infinitely thin

envelope

spikes so strong that they

done without violence, the

is

discarded skin remains where

it

was, hanging by the

claws to the top of the cage, uncreased and untorn.

The

magnifying-glass shows not a trace of rough usage. If

were suggested that one should draw out a saw

it

from some

sort of gold-beater's skin sheath

been exactly moulded on the

and that one should

steel,

perform the operation without making the

The

one would simply laugh.

Yet

possible.

possibilities; she

The is

difficulty

view

saw are

The

And

A

in this

not rigid, as

flexible.

such

almost

While

way. it

im-

fluid.

the leg

will presently be.

Where

farther on, where

lie

is

it

it

is

it

is

exposed to

as supple as

hidden,

The

backwards when the leg

as

it

it

is

teeth of the

proper state of

is

about to be

emerges they stand up and become

few minutes

And now

of

light

im-

but have none of their future sharpness.

there,

drawn back: solid.

it is

still softer, it is

spikes

thing would be

bending and curving:

elastic cord.

certainly

overcome

is

and highly

I see it

least tear,

can realise the absurd, in case of need.

being liberated

It is soft

makes

Nature

which had

later the leg has attained the

stiffness.

the fine tunic

is

wrinkled and rumpled, and

[246]

LOCUSTS pushed back along the body towards the point the Locust

this

After a rest of twenty

bare.

is

minutes he makes a supreme

Except at

tip.

effort;

he raises himself as

he hangs, and grabs hold of his cast skin.

Then he

climbs higher, and fixes himself to the wire of the cage

with

He

his four front feet.

with one

last shake,

and

Locust's transformation

way as the Cicada's. The insect is now flexible

it

is

loosens the

falls to the

empty husk

ground.

The

conducted in much the same

standing erect, and therefore the

They

wings are in the right position.

are

no

longer curved backwards like the petals of a flower, they are

and

no longer upside down; but they insignificant.

All that

few winding furrows, which

we

see

tell

is

still

look shabby

a few wrinkles, a

us that the stumps are

bundles of cunningly folded material, arranged so as to take

up

as little space as possible.

Very gradually they expand,

so gradually that their

unfolding cannot be seen even under the microscope.

The

process continues for three hours.

and wing-cases stand up on

Then

the wings

the Locust's back like a huge

set of sails, sometimes colourless, sometimes pale-green, like the Cicada's

at their size

wings at the beginning.

when one

represented them at

One

is

amazed

thinks of the paltry bundles that

first.

How could so much stuff find

room there?

The

fairy tale tells us of a grain of

[247]

hempseed that

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

contained the under-linen of a princess. that

is

even more astonishing.

Here

The one

it

yielded the

hemp

required for the

the story

in

took years and years to sprout and multiply,

a grain

is

till

at last

trousseau: the

Locust's tiny bundle supplies a sumptuous set of sails in

three hours.

They

are

formed of exquisitely

fine

gauze, a network of innumerable tiny bars. In the wing of the larva

we can

see only a

few un-

There

certain outlines of the future lace-work.

is

no-

thing to suggest the marvellous fabric whose every mesh will

have

its

form and place arranged for

absolute exactness.

Yet

it is

there, as the

oak

it,

'with

is

inside

the acorn.

There must be something

wing shape of meshes.

to

itself into a sheet of

make

the matter of the

gauze, into a labyrinth

There must be an original plan, an ideal

pattern which gives each atom

its

proper place.

The

stones of our buildings are arranged in accordance with the architect's plan; they

form an imaginary building be-

fore they exist as a real one.

In the same

way

a Locust's

wing, that sumptuous piece of lace emerging from a miserable sheath, speaks to us of another Architect, the

Author of the plans which Nature must follow labours.

[248]

in her

—

CHAPTER XVI THE ANTHRAX FLY I

A STRANGE MEAL

MADE the acquaintance of the Anthrax in when

Carpentras,

I

which

1855 at

was searching the slopes of

I

have already told you, the slopes beloved

I

Her

of the Anthophora-bees.

curious pupa, so power-

fully equipped to force an outlet for the perfect insect,

which

is

incapable of the least

investigation.

For that pupa

share in front, a trident at

on

its

effort, is

seemed worthy of

armed with a plough-

its tail,

and rows of harpoons

back, with which to rip open the Osmia-bee's cocoon

and break through the hard Let

us,

some day

in July,

crust of the hill-side.

knock away the pebbles that

fasten the nests of the Mason-bees to the sloping ground

on which they are

dome comes and

built.

Loosened by the shock, the

off cleanly, all in

this is a great

advantage

one piece.

—

Moreover

the cells are all exposed

at the base of the nest, for at this point they have no other

wall than the surface of the pebble. ing,

Without any

scrap-

which would be wearisome work for us and danger-

ous to the Bees,

we have

all the cells

[249]

before our eyes, to-

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

gethcr with their contents as delicate

—a

and transparent

silky,

amber-yellow cocoon,

as the skin of an onion.

Let

us split the dainty wrappers with the scissors, cell by

one after another.

If fortune be at all kind, as

we

to the persevering,

is

harbouring two larvje together, one more or

find some, is

no

and plump.

less plentiful, in

accompanied by a family of

easily It

round

is

always

end by finding cocoons

shall

in appearance, the other fresh

it

cell,

less

faded

We shall also

which the withered larva little

grubs wriggling un-

it.

easy to see that a tragedy

is

happening under the

The flabby, faded larva is the Mason-bee's. A month ago, in June, having finished its ration of honey, it wove itself a silken sheath in which cover of the cocoon.

to take the long sleep that precedes It

was bulging with

fat,

and was a

its

rich

morsel for any enemy that could reach did reach

it.

transformation.

and a defenceless it.

And

enemies

In spite of obstacles that might well seem

insurmountable, the wall of mortar and dome-shaped cover, the

enemy grubs appeared

began to eat the sleeper.

in the secret retreat,

Three

and

different species take

part in this murderous work, often in the same nest, in

adjoining the

cells.

We

will concern ourselves only with

Anthrax Fly.

The

grub,

when

it

has eaten

in the Mason-bee's cocoon, less,

and

blind.

It

is

is

a

its

victim and

is

left alone

naked worm, smooth,

creamy-white, and each of

legits

THE ANTHRAX FLY segments or divisions forms a perfect curved when at

marked

I

much

can count thirteen segments, well-

middle of the body, but

in the

very

but almost straight when disturbed.

rest,

Including the head

ring,

The

difficult to distinguish.

sign of

any mouth, and

head.

The grub

in the fore-part

white, soft head shows no

no bigger than a tiny pin's

is

has four pale red stigmata, or openings

through which to breathe, two in front and two behind, as

the rule

is

whatever;

among

it

is

Flies.

absolutely

itself alternately, tossing it

But

incapable

of shifting

curves and straightens

it

about violently where

is

manner of

its

this larva leaves

feeding.

most unexpected

the curious ease with which

:

and returns

After

A

eating.

to the

watching

Bee-grub on which

I

I

at

is

entirely un-

ever saw before.

This, for instance,

vouring

it

suddenly find myself

confronted with a manner of eating that

anything

grubs

flesh-eating

hundreds and hundreds of meals,

side,

it lies;

the most interesting point about the grub of the

fact attracts our attention

like

its

does not manage to progress.

Anthrax

is

has no walking-apparatus

If I disturb its rest,

position.

but

It

is

its caterpillar.

the Amophila-grub's

A

hole

is

made

way

of de-

in the victim's

and the head and neck of the grub dives deep into

the wound.

It

to take breath.

never withdraws

The

its

head, never pauses

voracious animal always goes for-

ward, chewing, swallowing, digesting, until the cater-

[251]

FABRE'S pillar's skin

Once

empty.

is

budge

creature does not

moved by

BOOK OF INSECTS

force

exact spot where

it

and hunts about

it is

liable to

once

If I tease

retires,

victim,

its

it

and there

no wound

is

If I repeat the

retreat

Soon

skin.

pimple-head to

same sudden

is

none of

with the tip of a pointed brush

matter where, and keeps effort.

for the

this

this persistent clinging to the original

no sign of broken

applies

If

go bad.

In the case of the Anthrax-grub there

wound.

begun, the

left off eating; for if the caterpillar

be attacked at a fresh point

mangling, none of

is

as long as the food lasts.

hesitates,

it

the meal

its

to be seen

it

at

on the

more

the grub once

meal, at any point, no

itself fixed there

without any

touch with the brush

I

see the

and the same calm return

to the

meal.

The grips

ease with which this larva grips, leaves,

its

now

victim,

here,

now

there,

and

re-

and always with-

out a wound, shows that the mouth of the Anthrax

is

not

armed with fangs that can dig into the skin and tear it. If the flesh were gashed by pincers of any kind, one or two attempts would be necessary before they could leave go or take hold again; and besides, the skin would be broken.

There

glues

mouth

its

not chew

its

does not eat,

is

nothing of the kind: the grub simply

to its prey,

and withdraws

it.

It

does

food like the other flesh-eating grub: it

it

inhales.

This remarkable fact led

me

to

examine the mouth

THE ANTHRAX FLY under the microscope.

small conical crater, with

It is a

yellowish-red sides and very faint lines running round

At the bottom of this funnel throat. There is not the slightest it.

the opening of the

is

trace of mandibles or

jaws, or any object capable of seizing and grinding food.

There

is

know

of no

nothing at

but the bowl-shaped opening.

all

other example of a

mouth

like this,

I can only compare to a cupping-glass.

mere

kiss,

but what a cruel kiss

I

which

Its attack is

a

I

To

observe the working of this curious machine I placed a new-born Anthrax-grub, together with its prey,

Here

in a glass tube.

was able

I

to

watch the strange

re-

past from beginning to end.

—

The Anthrax-grub fixed by its mouth or the plump Bee-grub.

the

Bee's

when

it

—

is

sucker to any convenient part of It is

ready to break

suddenly, should anything disturb easily

uninvited guest

wishes.

it,

and

to

off its kiss

resume

it

as

After three or four days of this

curious contact the Bee-grub, formerly so fat, glossy, and healthy, begins to look withered.

Her

sides fall in, her

fresh colour fades, her skin becomes covered with little folds,

and she

is

evidently shrinking.

A

week

is

hardly

passed when these signs of exhaustion increase to a

The though borne down by startling degree.

victim her

from her place she

flops

indiarubber bottle.

But

is

own

flabby

and wrinkled,

weight.

and sprawls

If I

move

her

like a half-filled

the kiss of the Anthrax goes

[253]

as

on

FABRE'S BCXIK OF INSECTS emptying her

:

soon she

is

but a sort of shrivelled bladder,

growing smaller and smaller from hour length, between the twelfth

and

At

to hour.

fifteenth day, all that re-

mains of the Mason-bee's larva

a little white grain,

is

hardly as large as a pin's head. If I soften this small

into

it

through a very

remnant

This proves

There

larva.

for the compressed air.

where broken.

and then blow out

fine glass tube, the skin fills

and resumes the shape of the anywhere

in water,

It is intact

that,

no outlet

is :

no-

it is

under the cupping-

glass of the Anthrax, the skin has been drained through its

pores.

The devouring grub, in making its attack, moment very cunningly. It is but an atom. a feeble Fly, has done nothing to help

weapons; and she Mason-bee's

it.

chooses Its

mother,

She has no

quite incapable of penetrating the

is

fortress.

The

future meal of the Anthrax

The

has not been paralysed, nor injured in any way. parasite arrives

— we

scarcely visible, stalls itself

shall presently see

and having made

upon

its

its

way, and

resistance.

is

its

way

And

how;

it

arrives,

preparations

monstrous victim,

to drain to the very husk.

paralysed nor in any

its

whom

it is

it

in-

going

the victim, though not

lacking in vitality, lets

it

have

sucked dry without a tremor or a quiver of

No

corpse could show greater indiiference

to a bite.

Had

the

Anthrax-grub appeared [254]

upon the scene

THE ANTHRAX FLY earlier,

things

when the Bee-grub was eating her store would surely have gone badly with

victim, feeling herself bled to death kiss,

The

it.

by that ravenous

would have protested with much wriggling of body

and grinding of mandibles.

But

perished.

danger is

of honey,

intruder

would have

at the hour chosen so wisely

by

it all

Enclosed in her silken sheath, the larva

over.

is

The

in the torpid state that precedes her transformation

Her

into a Bee.

So there

life.

no sign of

when

a needle, nor

There

is

condition

is

not death, but neither

when

irritation

I stir

is it

her with

the Anthrax-grub attacks her.

another marvellous point about the meal of

is

The Bee-grub remains alive

the Anthrax-grub.

Were

very end.

she really dead

would, in

it

until the less

than

twenty-four hours, turn a dirty-brown colour and de-

But during

compose. lasts,

and til

the whole fortnight that the meal

the butter-colour of the victim continues unaltered,

there

the

is

body

no sign of putrefaction. is

reduced to nothing.

Life persists un-

And

yet, if I

myself

give her a wound, the whole body turns brown and soon begins to pose. its

rot.

The

prick of a needle makes her decom-

A mere nothing kills

it;

the atrocious draining of

strength does not.

The only explanation

I

more than a suggestion.

drawn by

can suggest

is this,

Nothing but

and

fluids

it is

no

can be

the sucker of the Anthrax through the unpierced

skin of the Bee-grub

:

no part of the breathing-apparatus [255]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

As these two

or the nervous system can pass.

remain uninjured,

life

goes on until the fluid contents of

On

the skin are entirely exhausted. I

myself injure the larva of the Bee, the air-conducting

or

essentials

I

the other hand, if

disturb the nervous

and the bruised part

system,

spreads a taint all over the body.

Liberty

is

a noble possession, even in an insignificant

grub; but

it

has

its

The Anthrax

dangers everj'where.

escapes these dangers only on the condition of being, so to speak, muzzled.

own way

It finds its

dwelling, quite independently of

most of the other flesh-eating

larvae

into the Bee's

mother.

its

it is

not fixed by

mother's care at the most suitable spot for is

perfectly free to attack

had a

its

prey where

set of carving-tools, of

would meet with

at random,

victim and bite

Its

freedom of action would

it

kill

it

It

It

If

chooses.

and

would

its

its

meal.

its

jaws and mandibles,

a speedy death.

its

Unlike

split

it it

open

food would

rot.

it.

n THE WAY OUT There are other grub-eaters which drain

their victims

without wounding them, but not one, among those I

know, reaches such perfection grub.

in this art as the

Nor can any be compared with

the

Anthrax-

Anthrax

as re-

gards the means brought into play in order to leave the

[256]

THE ANTHRAX FLY The others, when

cell.

they become perfect insects, have

implements for mining and demolishing.

They have

stout mandibles, capable of digging the ground, of

pulling

down

clay partition-walls, and even of grinding

The Anthrax, Her mouth is

the Mason-bee's tough cement to powder. in her final form, has nothing like this.

a short, soft proboscis,

good

at

most for soberly licking

Her

the sugary fluid from the flowers. feeble that to

move

slim legs are so

would be too heavy a

a grain of sand

Her

task for them, enough to strain every joint. stiff

wings, which must remain full-spread, do not allow

her to slip through a narrow passage. of

great

downy

velvet,

delicate suit

from which you take the bloom by

merely breathing on of rough tunnels.

it,

could not withstand the contact

She

is

unable to enter the Mason-

and equally unable

bee's cells to lay her egg,

when

Her

the time comes to free herself

to leave it

and appear

in broad

daylight.

And way

the grub, for

for the

owning no is

coming tools

its

part,

flight.

is

powerless to prepare the

That buttery

little cylinder,

but a sucker so flimsy and small that

barely visible through the magnifying-glass,

weaker than the full-grown

and walks.

insect,

The Mason-bee's

cell

is

which at least

seems to

it

even flies

this creature

like a granite cave.

How can it get out ? The problems

would be insoluble

to these

else

played

its

two incapables,

part.

[257]

if

nothing

Among

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

insects the

pupa

the creature insect

—

is

A

ness.

is

— the

transition stage,

no longer a grub but

when

not yet a perfect

is

generally a striking picture of complete weaksort of

mummy,

clothes, motionless

formation.

tightly

and unconscious,

tender flesh

Its

bound

is

it

swaddling-

in

awaits

hardly solid;

its

its

trans-

limbs are

transparent as crystals, and are held fixed in their place, lest a

movement should

disturb the

work of development.

In the same way, to secure his recovery, a patient whose

bones are broken

is

held bound

surgeon's bandages.

in the

Well, here, by a strange reversal of the usual state of things, a stupendous task

Anthrax.

It is the

pupa

is

laid

that has to

haust

itself in efforts to burst the

out.

To

grown

the

pupa

upon

pupa of the

the

toil,

to strive, to ex-

wall and open the

way

falls the desperate duty, to the full-

The

insect the joy of resting in the sun.

these unusual conditions

is

that the

pupa

strange and complicated set of tools that

is

result of

possesses a in

no way

suggested by the grub nor recalled by the perfect Fly.

This set of tools includes a collection of ploughshares, gimlets, hooks, spears,

found will

in

do

By

and other implements that

our trades nor

my best

named

in our dictionaries.

I

to describe the strange gear.

the time that July

is

nearly over the Anthrax has

From

finished eating the Bee-grub.

following

are not

May

it

lies

that time until the

motionless in the Mason-bee's

cocoon, beside the remains of

its

[258]

victim.

When

the fine

THE ANTHRAX FLY Her

delicate suit of cknvny velvet, from which you take the bloom by merely breathing on it, could not withstand the contact of rough tunnels

i.v

V

/.v .v\\\

V

/.I

.

aw

\

THE ANTHRAX FLY days of May arrive

it

shrivels,

and

casts its skin;

and

it is

then that the pupa appears, fully clad in a stout, reddish,

horny hide.

The head

is

round and large, and

in front with a sort of

diadem of

is

crowned on top and

six hard, sharp, black

This sixfold plough-

spikes, arranged in semi-circle.

share

is

Lower down

the chief digging-implement.

instrument

finished off with a separate group of

is

the

two

small black spikes, placed close together.

Four segments

in the

middle of the body are armed on

the back with a belt of little horny arches, set in the skin

They

upside down. other,

and

with

are finished at both ends with a hard, black

The

point.

a

are arranged parallel to one an-

belt forms a double

hollow

in

between.

row of

There are

self

is

obvious

it

:

helps the

on the wall of the gallery

Thus anchored on

two

use of this

to steady

it

more

its

it-

work proceeds.

a host of points the brave pioneer

is

crown of awls.

difficult for the

recoil, there are long, stiff bristles,

scattered here

pupa

as the

able to hit the obstacle harder with

Moreover, to make

about

The

hundred spikes on the four segments. rasp, or grater,

little thorns,

instrument to

pointing backwards,

and there among the rows of

spikes.

There are some also on other segments, and on the sides they are arranged in clusters. Two more belts of thorns, less

powerful than the others, and a sheaf of eight spikes

at the tip of the

body

—two of which [259]

are longer than the

FABRES BOOK OF INSECTS rest

—completes

the strange boring-machine that pre-

pares an outlet for the feeble Anthrax,

About

the

end of

May the colouring of the pupa alters,

and shows that the transformation

is

close at hand.

The

head and fore-part of the creature become a handsome, shiny black, prophetic of the black livery worn by the

coming

insect.

I

was anxious

to see the boring-tools in

action, and, since this could not be ditions, I confined the

Anthrax

done

in natural con-

in a glass tube,

between

two thick stoppers of sorghum-pith. The space between the stoppers was about the same size as the Bee's cell, and the

partitions,

though not so strong as the Bee's

masonry, were firm enough to withstand considerable

On

effort.

the other

hand the

side-walls, being of glass,

could not be gripped by the toothed belts, which matters

No

much harder

made

for the worker.

matter: in the space of a single day the pupa

pierced the front partition, three-quarters of an inch thick,

saw

I

it

fixing

its

back partition, arching

suddenly releasing of

it

with

its

itself

double ploughshare against the itself

and

into

a

bow, and then

striking the stopper in front

barbed forehead.

Under

the blows of the

spikes the pith slowly crumbled to pieces,

atom by atom.

method of work changed. The animal drove its crown of awls into the pith, and fidgeted and swayed about for a time then the blows began again.

At long

intervals the

;

[260]

THE ANTHRAX FLY Now

and then there were intervals of rest. At last the hole was made. The pupa slipped into it, but did not pass through entirely. The head and chest appeared beyond the hole, but the rest of the body remained held in the tunnel.

The

glass cell certainly puzzled

my

Anthrax.

hole through the pith was wide and irregular

:

it

The was a

clumsy breach and not a gallery. When made through the Mason-bee's walls it is fairly neat, and exactly of the animal's diameter.

For narrowness and evenness

exit-tunnel are necessary.

half-caught in graters

on

its

into the outer

without

it

in the

The pupa always remains

and even pretty securely fixed by the back. Only the head and chest emerge it,

A

air.

fixed support

is

indispensable, for

the Anthrax could not issue from her horny

sheath, unfurling her great wings

and drawing out her

slender legs.

She therefore remains steadily fixed by the graters on her back, in the narrow exit-gallery. All is now ready.

The transformation head

begins.

Two

slits

appear on the

one along the forehead, and a second, crossing it, dividing the skull in two and extending down the chest. :

Through

this

cross-shaped opening the Anthrax Fly

suddenly appears. bling legs,

She steadies herself upon her tremdries her wings and takes to flight, leaving her

cast skin at the

doorway of the [261]

gallery.

The

sad-

FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

coloured Fly has five or six weeks before her wherein to explore the clay nests amid the thyme and to take her

small share of the joys of

life.

Ill

THE WAY you have paid attention

IF

Fly, you

The Fox

IN

to this story of the

must have noticed that

it

is

incomplete.

saw how the Lion's

in the fable

Anthrax

visitors en-

how they went out. With us the case is reversed: we know the way out of the Mason-bee's fortress, but we do not know the way in. To tered his den, but did not see

leave the cell whose owner

When

comes a boring-tool. this tool splits like a

it

has eaten, the Anthrax bethe exit-tunnel

pod bursting

in the sun,

is

opened

and from

the strong framework there escapes a dainty Fly. bit of fluif that contrasts strangely

the prison whence

pretty well what there

is

to

with the roughness of

On

comes.

it

me

this point

But

know.

the grub into the cell puzzled

A soft

we know

the entrance of

for a quarter of a cen-

tury. It is plain that the

Bee's wall.

cell,

To

which pierce

tool once more, left at the

is it

mother cannot place her egg

closed

she

and get

in the

and barricaded with a cement

would have

to

become a boring-

into the cast-off rags which she

doorway of the

exit-tunnel.

[262]

She would have

THE ANTHRAX FLY to

become a pupa again.

For the full-grown Fly has no claws, nor mandibles, nor any implement capable of

working

Can

its

it

way through

grub that makes

be, then, the

the storeroom, that

the wall.

mind

up

a

:

position.

It

nothing but digest

even

it is

yet

its

its

its

food.

way

It is

mouth a

its

to crawl.

can do

It

less able

How

than the

does the Fly set

In the face of this puzzle

almost

impossible

Anthrax from the moment

it

task

I

resolved to

and watch the

left the egg.

Since these Flies are not really plentiful in

neighbourhood little

its

provisions are there: they must be reached:

attempt an

dear

curls

into the Mason-bee's dwelling.

a matter of life and death.

about it?

and

has no means whatever of moving; not it

And

call the creature

a smooth cylinder,

is

even a hair or a wrinkle to enable

mother to make

into

without being able to shift

lies,

body

Its

circular lip.

it

Let us

sausage, which stretches

little oily

just where

own way

same grub that we have seen sucking

the life out of the Bee's larva? to

its

I

made an

town where

old college where

was unchanged penitentiary.

I

I

expedition to Carpentras, the

my

spent

made my

my

wholesome for boys

twentieth year.

It still

early days

to be

The

attempts as a teacher

first

in appearance.

In

my own

gay and

it

looked like a

was considered un-

active, so our

system

of education applied the remedy of melancholy and

gloom.

Our houses

of instruction were above all houses

[263]

— FABRE'S

BOOK OF INSECTS

In a yard between four walls, a sort of

of correction.

make room

bear-pit, the boys fought to

All round

under a spreading plane-tree.

without light or

like horseboxes,

for their it

games

were

cells

those were the

air:

class-rooms. I saw, too, the

came out of the

now

shop where

college;

and

occupied by monks.

used to buy tobacco as

I

my

also

I

former dwelling,

There, in the embrasure of a

window, sheltered from profane hands, between the closed outer shutters

and the panes,

I

kept

my chemicals

bought for a few sous saved out of the housekeeping

money.

My

made on

a corner of the

How I

experiments, harmless or dangerous, were fire,

beside the simmering broth.

should love to see that room again, where

my

over mathematical problems; and blackboard, which

I

I

pored

familiar friend the

hired for five francs a year, and

could never buy outright for want of the necessary cash

But

I

must return

to

my

insects.

Carpentras, unfortunately, was year to be very profitable. Flies hovering

I

made

it

visit

to

too late in the

saw only a few Anthrax

round the face of the

despair, because

My

I

cliff.

Yet

I

did not

was plain that these few were not

there to take exercise, but to settle their families.

So

I

took

my

stand at the foot of the rock, under a

broiling sun, and for half a day

ments of slope,

my

Flies.

a few inches

They flitted away from ['264]

I

followed the move-

quietly in front of the the earthly covering.

THE ANTHRAX FLY They went from one

Bee's nest to another, but without

attempting to enter.

For that matter, the attempt would

be useless, for the galleries are too narrow to admit their

So they simply explore the cliff, going and up and down, with a flight that was now

spreading wings. to

and

fro,

sudden,

now smooth and

From time

slow.

to time I

saw one of them approach the wall and touch the earth suddenly with the

tip of her body.

The proceeding

When

took no longer than the twinkling of an eye.

was over the

insect rested a

it

moment, and then resumed

flight.

I

was certain

that, at the

moment when

the earth, she laid her eggs on the spot.

the Fly tapped

Yet, though

rushed forward and examined the place with could see no egg.

my

lens, I

In spite of the closest attention

could distinguish nothing.

The

truth

is

that

I

my

I

state

of exhaustion, together with the blinding light and

made it difficult for me to see anything. Afterwards, when I made the acquaintance of the tiny scorching heat,

my failure no longer surprised me for even in the leisure and peace of my study

thing that comes out of that egg, :

I

have the greatest

creature.

How

difficulty in finding the infinitesimal

then could

was under the sun-baked

None

the less I

I see

the egg,

as I

cliff?

was convinced that

Anthrax Flies strewing

worn out

their eggs,

spots frequented by the Bees

I

had seen the

one by one, on the

who suit their grubs.

[265]

They

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S

take no precaution to place the egg under cover, and in-

deed the structure of the mother makes any such pre-

The

caution impossible.

egg, that delicate object,

among

grains of sand,

It is the

business of the

laid roughly in the blazing sun, in

some wrinkle of the chalk.

young grub

The next

to

manage

year

as best

continued

I

it

my

is

can.

investigations, this time

on the Anthrax of the Chalicodoma, a Bee that abounds in

my own

nine o'clock,

field at

Every morning

neighbourhood.

when

the sun begins to be unendur-

I

was prepared

to c'ome back with

from the

glare, if only

I

able.

my puzzle.

The

of success.

What

delight;

my

gives

The road shimmers

head aching

could bring home the solution of

greater the heat, the better

what prostrates

took the

I

me torture fills the me braces the Fly.

like a sheet of

molten

my

chances

insect with

From

steel.

the dusty, melancholy olive-trees rises a mighty, throb-

bing hum, the concert of the Cicadae, rustle creases.

with increasing frenzy as the temperature

The Cicada

of the

Ash adds

ings to the single note of the

the ing,

who sway and

moment

I

For

sometimes

five or six

Common

its

in-

strident scrap-

This

Cicada.

is

weeks, of tenest in the morn-

in the afternoon, I set

myself to explore

the rocky waste.

There were plenty of the nests

I

wanted, but

not see a single Anthrax on their surface. settled in front of

me

to lay her egg.

[266]

I

could

Not one

At most, from time

THE ANTHRAX FLY to time, I could see one passing far away, with

petuous rush.

was

It

all.

I

to

lose her in the distance

was impossible

of the egg.

boys

would

In vain

who keep

I

;

an im-

and that

to be present at the laying

enlisted the services of the small

the sheep in our

meadows, and talked

them of a big black Fly and the nests on which

she ought to settle. illusions

By

were dispelled.

in seeing the big black

the

end of August

Not one

my

last

of us had succeeded

Fly perching on the dome of

the Mason-bee.

The

reason

is,

I believe, that she

never perches there.

She comes and goes in every direction across the stony plain.

earthen

Her practised eye can detect, as she flies, the dome which she is seeking, and having found it

she swoops down, leaves her egg on

it,

without setting foot on the ground.

Should she take a

rest

it

will be elsewhere, on the soil,

a tuft of lavender or thyme. neither

I

nor

Meanwhile

my young I

It is

and makes on a

no wonder that

shepherds could find her egg.

My

of the nests, enough to

shepherds procured fill

my

work-table.

the cocoons from the cells, and examined

my

heaps

I

took

them within

lens explored their innermost recesses,

the sleeping larva, I

me

baskets and baskets; and

these I inspected at leisure on

nothing

on

searched the Mason-bees' nests for grubs

just out of the egg.

and without:

stone,

off

and the

walls.

Nothing, nothing,

For a fortnight and more nests were searched [267]

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S and

rejected,

and heaped up

was crammed with them. cocoons; to

I

It

make me persevere. At last I saw, or seemed "Was

the Bee's larva.

of

down

it

was not a

grub

But

I

because

by

stirred

I

I

I

study

ripped up the

needed the sturdiest faith

to see,

something move on

Was

an illusion?

it

breath?

down;

bit of

at first

was

my

vain

In

found nothing.

My

in a corner.

It

was

it

was not an

it

a bit

illusion;

and truly a

really

thought the discovery unimportant,

so greatly puzzled

by the

little creature's

appearance. In a couple of days

I

was the owner of ten such worms

and had placed each of them

in a glass tube, together

with the Bee-grub on which

wriggled.

it

that the least fold of skin concealed

After watching failed to find it

was

lost:

then

from

one day through the lens

it

it

it

again on the morrow. it

was

It

I

I

so tiny

my

sight.

sometimes

would think

would move, and become

visible once

more.

For some time the belief had been growing the Anthrax had tivo larval forms, a the second being the

ready seen at

its

asked myself, the it

was.

For at

form

first

last I

me

that

and a second,

knew, the grub we have

Was

meals.

this

new

al-

discovery, I

Time showed me that saw my little worms transform form?

themselves into the grub

make

I

first

in

I

have already described, and

their first start at draining their victims

[268]

with

kisses.

THE ANTHRAX FLY A

few moments of

make up

satisfaction like those I then enjoyed

many

for

a weary hour.

This tiny worm, the the Anthrax,

first

form or "primary larva" of

very active.

is

sides of its victim,

walking

It

all

tramps over the fat

round

It covers the

it.

ground pretty quickly, buckling and unbuckling by turns, very much after the manner of the Looper-caterpillar.

When

Its

two ends are

walking

it

and then looks

like a bit

It has thirteen rings or

segments,

swells out,

of knotted string.

including

chief points of support.

its

tiny head, which bristles in front with

its

short, stiff hairs.

There are four other pairs of

on the lower surface, and with the help of these

bristles

it

For a fortnight the feeble grub remains

walks.

in

this

condition, without growing, and apparently without eating. is

Indeed, what could

it

eat?

In the cocoon there

worm

nothing but the larva of the Mason-bee, and the

cannot eat

this before it has the sucker or

comes with the second form. before, though

plores

its

it

does not eat

mouth

that

Nevertheless, as

I said

from

It ex-

it is

far

idle.

future dish, and runs all over the neighbor-

hood.

Now,

a very good reason for

this

long

In the natural state of the Anthrax-grub

it is

necessary.

The egg

there

is

is

laid

by the mother on the surface of the

at a distance from the Bee's larva, which

by a thick rampart.

is

It is the business of the

[269]

fast.

nest,

protected

new-born

BOOK OF INSECTS

FABRE'S grub

to

make

of which

its

but by patiently slipping

through a maze of cracks.

even for

this slender

very difficult task,

It is a

worm,

for the Bee's

building, no cracks due to the weather.

and that only

point,

masonry

There are no chinks due

exceedingly compact.

weak

by violence,

to its provisions, not

incapable,

is

it

way

in a

few

grub

is

bad

to

I see

but one

it is

the line

nests:

where the dome joins the surface of the stone. weakness so seldom occurs that

is

I believe the

This

Anthrax-

dome

able to find an entrance at any spot on the

of the Bee's nest.

The grub

extremely weak, and has nothing but

is

How long it

invincible patience.

through the masonry

I

cannot say.

laborious

and the worker

believe

may

it

first

so feeble

I

work

its

The work

form of the Anthrax, which

so

In some cases

very fortunate, you

it is

way

is

be months before the slow journey

So

complished.

takes to

is

I

ac-

see, that this

exists only in order to

pierce the walls of the Bees' nest, should be able to live

without food.

At

last I

saw

my young worms

I

knew and was

and

them-

rid

They then appeared

selves of their outer skin.

grub

shrink,

as the

so anxiously expecting, the grub

of the Anthrax, the cream-colored cylinder with the

button of a head. Bee-grub,

it

began

Fastening its

meal.

Before taking leave of

its

round sucker

You know

this tiny

[270]

little

to the

the rest.

animal

let us

dwell

THE ANTHRAX FLY for a

moment on

having just

its

marvellous instinct.

there

is

The

no one to welcome

mere thread of on

its

struggle with the

What

begins again.

know

Yet both

for the nourishing spot,

do not even try

We

it

it

starts

sounds

crawls on, retreats,

What

it?

does the root of a plant

Again, nothing.

Instantly

inspiration urges

lies in

above

enters the world, a

it

it slips in,

what compass guides

as

cradle;

is its

Obstinately

flint.

those depths, or of what

I

as

it

it

under

to life

bare stone

half-solid substance.

each pore of the stone;

food,

awakened

left the egg, just

the fierce rays of the sun.

Picture

them?

it

does

towards it

know

Nothing.

its

of

What

of the earth's fruitfulness?

the root

Why?

I

to understand.

and the worm make do not understand.

The

question

is

far

us.

have now followed the complete history of the

Anthrax.

Its life

which has

its

is

divided into four periods, each of

special

form and

primary larva enters the Bees'

its

nest,

special work.

The

which contains pro-

visions; the secondary larva eats those provisions; the

pupa brings

the insect to light

by boring through the

enclosing wall ; the perfect insect strews the story starts afresh.

[271]

its

eggs.

Then

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