THE cicada's last SONG 253 



country people to-day who would as quickly at- 

 tack a rattlesnake as this big sand -hornet, and 

 who "absolutely know" of men who have been 

 "knocked down" and even "killed " by one stab 

 of its sting. However this may be, it is well to 

 keep at a respectful distance. When we know 

 what the little yellow-jacket can do with its tiny 

 dagger, and then reflect that this sand -hornets 

 javelin is about a third of an inch long, we can 

 draw our own conclusions, and will readily under- 

 stand why it was that our cicada's song was cut 

 short. " But why didn't the hornet eat him on 

 the spot? Why should it fly away with him and 

 yank him about so unmercifully?" This is a 

 common question with those who have observed 

 the episode above described. A visit to the sand 

 bank would have explained the object of it all. 

 The exposed surface is seen to be perforated here 

 and there with holes as large as one's little finger, 

 while from one of them an occasional tiny stream 

 of sand pours out, and we catch a glimpse of the 

 horny, spiked legs of the digger- wasp within. 

 Even as we observe him closely a loud hum is 

 heard, and a filmy, buzzing object falls precipitate- 

 ly upon the bank, and in the jumble of wings and 

 black bodies we now distinguish our hornet and 

 cicada, which only a moment before had started 

 from the edge of the shed roof above. The cicada 

 is apparently dead, and is now an easy prey as the 



