104 FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS 



Even then the work is terribly hard. How it must labour, 

 the poor little thing, how it must persevere with its throbbing 

 head and writhing loins, before it can clear a passage for itself ! 

 The wee mite's efforts show us plainly that the journey to the 

 light of day is an enormous undertaking, in which the greater 

 number would die but for the help of the exit-tunnel, the 

 mother's work. 



When the tiny insect reaches the surface at last, it rests for 

 a moment to recover from all that fatigue. Then suddenly 

 the blister swells and throbs, and the temporary jacket splits. 

 The rags are pushed back by the hind-legs, which are the last 

 to be stripped. The thing is done : the creature is free, pale 

 in colouring as yet, but possessing its final form as a larva. 



Immediately the hind-legs, hitherto stretched in a straight 

 line, fall into the correct position. The legs fold under the 

 great thighs, and the spring is ready to work. It works. 

 Little Locust makes his entrance into the world, and hops for 

 the first time. I offer him a bit of lettuce the size of my finger- 

 nail. He refuses it. Before taking nourishment he must 

 first mature and grow in the sun. 



IV 



THEIR FINAL CHANGE 



I have just beheld a stirring sight : the last change of a 

 Locust, the full-grown insect emerging from his larval skin. 

 It is magnificent. The object of my enthusiasm is the Grey 

 Locust, the giant who is so common on the vines at vintage- 

 time, in September. On account of his size he is as long as 

 my finger he is easier to observe than any other of his tribe. 

 The event took place in one of my cages. 



The fat, ungraceful larva, a rough sketch of the perfect 

 insect, is usually pale green ; but some are blue -green, dirty 

 yellow, red-brown, or even ashen-grey, like the grey of the 

 full-grown Locust. The hind-legs, which are as powerful as 



