LARVA OF THE ANT-LION. 213 



of putting it to flight. When sufficiently near, the forelegs are 

 darted out to their full length, and, suddenly closing on their 

 unfortunate victim, cut it into two, as if it had been mowed with 

 a scythe. 



The larva of the ant-lion, an insect which, in its perfect state, 

 bears no inconsiderable resemblance to a small dragonfly, has 

 long been famous for the manner in which it obtains its food. 

 Though totally unfit for the chase (as only the hinder pair of 

 its very feeble legs are employed for locomotion, and these 

 can only drag it slowly backwards), yet its industry in exca- 

 vating the pitfalls, which are without a parallel in the animal 

 kingdom, enables it fully to supply the want of speed, and 

 to triumph over the most active insects. Depressing the end 

 of its abdomen, and crawling backwards in a circular direction, 

 it traces a shallow trench in some sandy spot, where the soil is 

 as free as possible from stones, and continues this motion until 

 it reaches the centre, scooping up the sand all the time with 

 its head, and jerking it over the margin of the trench; nor 

 does it rest in its labours until it has at length completed a 

 smooth-sided conical pit, varying from one to three inches in 

 diameter at the top, and gradually tapering to the bottom. In 

 the course of its labours it frequently meets with small stenes ; 

 these it places upon its head, one by one, and jerks them 

 over the margin of the pit. If the weight happens to be too 

 considerable, a new plan is adopted; for, poising the stone upon 

 its back, it carefully walks up the ascent, with the inten- 

 tion of depositing its burden outside the margin. But it not 

 seldom happens that, before it reaches the top, an unfortunate 

 stumble or a jolt mocks the efforts of the little Sisyphus, and 

 sends the liliputian rock to the bottom of the precipice. 

 Any less patient workman would abandon the case as hopeless ; 

 but the ant-lion is not so easily disheartened, and has been seen 

 six times patiently to renew his attempts, until at last his 

 resolution was rewarded with success. It is only when the 

 task is utterly impracticable that the persevering engineer at 

 length gives in, and, leaving his half-finished pit, seeks a more 

 favourable spot for the formation of another. 



When all obstacles are overcome, and the work is completed, 

 the ant-lion, eager to reap the fruits of his labour, now takes 

 his station at the bottom of the pit, and, to avoid scaring his 



