FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS 



The other Locusts cannot be described as noisy, but this 

 one is absolutely dumb. In vain have the most delicate 

 ears listened with all their might. This silent one must 

 have other means of expressing his joys. What they 

 are I do not know. 



Nor do I know why the insect remains wthout wings, 

 a plodding wayfarer, when his near kinsmen on the same 

 Alpine slopes have excellent means of flying. He 

 possesses the beginnings of wings and wing-cases, gifts 

 inherited by the larva; but he does not develop these 

 beginnings and make use of them. He persists in 

 hopping, with no further ambition: he is satisfied to go 

 on foot, to remain -a Pedestrian Locust, when he might, 

 one would think, acquire wings. To flit rapidly from 

 crest to crest, over valleys deep in snow, to 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. Anatomy has these puzzles, these 

 surprises, these sudden leaps, which defy our curiosity. 

 In the presence of such profound problems the best thing 

 is to bow in all humility, and pass on. 



[236] 



