THE VICTORIAN NATURALIST. 



67 



generally along the burrow made by the larva in its descent. We 

 have now to consider those species in which the chrysalis is 

 enveloped by a cocoon of silk, silk and leaves united, or of chips 

 of wood intermixed and cemented together by the spinnings and 

 gummy secretions of the caterpillar. Some of these silken 

 cocoons are so flimsy and frail that it must be an easy task to 

 escape from them ; others, however, are denser, and at first sight 

 it would seem a somewhat hard task for the moth 

 to escape, but on investigation we find they are 

 constructed in such a manner as to readily allow 

 the escape of anything from the inside, though the 

 admission of an enemy from the outside is almost 

 impossible. This result is arrived at by the cater- 

 pillar constructing an inner pear-shaped cocoon 

 having a series of threads all converging to a point 

 in a manner similar to the baskets used for catching 

 lobsters, &c. Familiar examples of this description 

 of cocoon may be seen in our grass feeders, Darala 

 ocellata and D. denticulata. 



Cocoon of 

 D. denticulata. 



Cocoons of 

 L. loitpcrans. 



In another type, some species, such as our 

 Limacodes longer -ans, construct a perfectly oval 

 or circular retreat, which, however, has a sort 

 of lid at one end ; the lid is but slightly joined 

 to the body of the cocoon, and easily gives to 

 pressure. 



This brings us to those species in which the caterpillar 

 apparently has no thought for the morrow, but concentrates all 

 its energies in entirely enveloping itself by a mass of silky or hard 

 material ; so hard, indeed, are the cocoons of some species that 

 it takes a strong and very sharp knife to make any impression 

 upon them. I remember when first some cocoons of the Puss 

 Moth came into my possession many years ago, that I could not 

 rest in my mind about them — they were so hard that it seemed 

 impossible for such a downy, soft-looking object as the Puss 

 Moth ever to get through. After anxious thought I struck what 

 seemed the brilliant idea that the storms of winter and general 

 influence of exposure to the elements in a state of nature gradu- 

 ally softened the cocoons, so that when spring once more arrived 

 the moth found its task an easy one. Acting upon these con- 

 clusions I treated mine to an artificial winter, frequently drenched 

 them with water, and generally made things as wintry as possible 

 for them, short of putting them outside. However, I found they 

 were still as hard as ever, and finally, distrusting Nature, I cut an 

 opening in each cocoon, feeling sure that unless I did so I should 

 lose all my moths. 



Before proceeding further it will perhaps be as well to quote 



