The Cicada: the Eggs 



has a stalk to herself, without fear of any 

 competition that might disturb the delicate 

 process of inoculation. When the first occu- 

 pant is gone, another may come, followed by 

 others yet. There is ample room for all; 

 but each in succession wishes to be alone. 

 For the rest, there is no quarrelling among 

 them; things happen most peacefully. If 

 some mother appears and finds the place al- 

 ready taken, she flies away so soon as she 

 discovers her mistake and looks around else- 

 where. 



The Cicada, when laying, always carries 

 her head upwards, an attitude which, for that 

 matter, she adopts in other circumstances. 

 She lets you examine her quite closely, even 

 under the magnifying-glass, so greatly ab- 

 sorbed is she in her task. The ovipositor, 

 which is about two-fifths of an inch long, is 

 buried in the stalk, slantwise. So perfect is 

 the tool that the boring does not seem to call 

 for very laborious operations. I see the 

 mother give a jerk or two and dilate and 

 contract the tip of her abdomen with fre- 

 quent palpitations. That is all. The drill 

 with its double gimlets working alternately 

 digs and disappears into the wood, with a 

 gentle and almost imperceptible movement. 



