CH. XIII.] THE ANT-LION. 225 



skin with a jerk far from its cave, lest the relics 

 should embarrass it in its future contests, or deprive 

 it of future visits, by bringing- its place of residence 

 into bad repute. Any damage which the den may 

 have sustained during these struggles is carefully 

 repaired ; when the ant-lion resumes its station at 

 the bottom, and patiently awaits the approach of 

 more prey. 



The ant-lion will not take a dead insect, however 

 recently killed. Reaumur tempted it with fine, fat 

 blue-bottles, but these it would not touch. Those 

 insects, too, whose instincts teach them to simulate 

 death when danger is near, escape the fangs of the 

 ant-lion. 



If it has long missed its necessary supply of 

 game, it concludes its place of ambuscade to have 

 been badly selected, and moves to another spot ; or, 

 if the hole has been so long occupied that the fre- 

 quent crumbling of the sides has rendered the de- 

 scent too easy, it is forsaken. Its progress on these 

 occasions may be seen in the following figure. 



To this species of life the ant-lion is destined for 

 about two years ; after this period it passes from its 

 state of larva into that of nymph. It then buries 

 itself entirely in the sand. With a kind of viscid 

 substance, which appears to exude from the pores 

 of its skin, it glues together a crust which encom- 

 passes its whole body ; this covering is round, and 

 about half an inch in diameter, which affords the 



