THE CIGALE 51 



is about four-tenths of an inch in length, is plunged 

 obliquely and up to the hilt into the twig. So perfect is 

 the tool that the operation is by no means troublesome. 

 We see the Cigale tremble slightly, dilating and con- 

 tracting the extremity of the abdomen in frequent pal- 

 pitations. This is all that can be seen. The boring 

 instrument, consisting of a double saw, alternately rises 

 and sinks in the rind of the twig with a gentle, almost 

 imperceptible movement. Nothing in particular occurs 

 during the process of laying the eggs. The insect is 

 motionless, and hardly ten minutes elapse between the 

 first cut of the ovipositor and the filling of the egg- 

 chamber with eggs. 



The ovipositor is then withdrawn with methodical 

 deliberation, in order that it may not be strained or bent. 

 The egg-chamber closes of its own accord as the woody 

 fibres which have been displaced return to their position, 

 and the Cigale climbs a little higher, moving upwards in a 

 straight line, by about the length of its ovipositor. It then 

 makes another puncture and a fresh chamber for another 

 ten or twelve eggs. In this way it scales the twig from 

 bottom to top. 



These facts being understood, we are able to explain 

 the remarkable arrangement of the eggs. The openings 

 in the rind of the twig are practically equidi.stant, since 

 each time the Cigale moves upward it is by a given length, 

 namely, that of the ovipositor. Very rapid in flight, she is 

 a very idle walker. At the most you may see her, on the 

 living twig from which she is drinking, moving at a slow, 

 almost solemn pace, to gain a more sunny point close at 

 hand. On the dry twig in which she deposits her eggs 

 she observes the same formal habits, and even exaggerates 



