The White-faced Decticus: his Habits 



sional tick-tick. Then he becomes more 

 animated, hurries the pace of his tune and 

 ends by grinding out the finest piece in his 

 repertoire. 



Is he celebrating his wedding? Is his song 

 an epithalamium? I will make no such state- 

 ment, for his success is poor if he is really 

 making an appeal to his fair neighbours. 

 Not one of his group of hearers gives a sign 

 of attention. Not a female stirs, not one 

 moves from her comfortable place in the sun. 

 Sometimes the solo becomes a concerted piece 

 sung by two or three in chorus. The multiple 

 invitation succeeds no better. True, their 

 impassive ivory faces give no indication of 

 their real feelings. If the suitors' ditty 

 indeed exercises any sort of seduction, no 

 outward sign betrays the fact. 



According to all appearances, the clicking 

 is addressed to heedless ears. It rises in a 

 passionate crescendo until it becomes a con- 

 tinuous rattle. It ceases when the sun 

 vanishes behind a cloud and starts afresh 

 when the sun shows itself again; but it leaves 

 the ladies indifferent. 



She who was lying with her shanks out- 

 stretched on the blazing sand does not 

 change her position; her antennary threads 



219 



