26 THE WONDERS OF INSTINCT 



those sudden agonized notes which grate through the 

 woods at late, unseasonable hours, when the cymbals have 

 long been silent. The murderess in her suit of apple- 

 green has pounced on some sleeping Cicada. 



My boarders' menu is settled: I will feed them on 

 Cicadae. They take such a liking to this fare that, in two 

 or three weeks, the floor of the cage is a knacker's yard 

 strewn with heads and empty thoraces, with torn-off 

 wings and disjointed legs. The belly alone disappears 

 almost entirely. This is the tit-bit, not very substantial, 

 but extremely tasty, it would seem. Here, in fact, in the 

 insect's crop, the syrup is accumulated, the sugary sap 

 which the Cicada's gimlet taps from the tender bark. 

 Is it because of this dainty that the prey's abdomen is 

 preferred to any other morsel? It is quite possible. 



I do, in fact, with a view to varying the diet, decide to 

 serve up some very sweet fruits, slices of pear, grape- 

 pips, bits of melon. All this meets with delighted appre- 

 ciation. The Green Grasshopper resembles the English : 

 she dotes on underdone meat seasoned with jelly. This 

 perhaps is why, on catching the Cicada, she first rips up 

 his paunch, which supplies a mixture of flesh and pre- 

 serves. 



To eat Cicadse and sugar is not possible in every part 

 of the country. In the north, where she abounds, the 

 Green Grasshopper would not find the dish which at- 

 tracts her so strongly here. She must have other 

 resources. To convince myself of this, I give her 

 Anoxia? (A. pilosa, Fab.), the summer equivalent of the 

 spring Cockchafer. The Beetle is accepted without hesi- 



