DRAGON-FLIES 



Today I saw the Dragon-fly 



Come from the wells where he did lie. 



An inner impulse rent the veil 



Of his old husk: from head to tail 



Came out clear plates of sapphire mail. 



He dried his wings: like gauze they grew: 

 Through crofts and pastures wet with dew 

 A living flash of light he flew. 



— Alfred Tennyson. 



In April the larvae of the Dragon- 

 flies begin to crawl forth from their 

 dark, muddy haunts on the bed of the 

 brook and the edges of the pond. Here 

 they have lived for a year, perhaps more, 

 creeping about in the slime at the roots 

 of the water weeds, seizing and devour- 

 ing the snails, tadpoles and minnows. 

 All the acquatic insects that come within 

 reach of their sharp-pointed claws fall 

 victims to the insatiable hunger of the 

 larvae. They are very slow-moving 

 creatures in this stage of their lives, and 

 often remain motionless for hours, or 

 scull themselves leisurely through the 

 water by bending their bodies from side 

 to side. 



During this dark, sluggish stage of 

 the Dragon's life he changes his skin 

 several times, but there is no hint in his 

 dull-colored garm.ents of the wonderful 

 shining robes he is finally to don. When 

 the time for the last change approaches, 

 the rudiments of wings appear on his 

 Dack. 



This larva is a strang'er to that long, 

 mysterious sleep in which so many mem- 

 bers of the insect world indulge. Pie 

 spins no cocoon ; he does not bury him- 

 self in the earth nor hang his chrysalis 

 above the stream. When an inner 

 impulse tells him that the time has come 

 for his old life to end, that a new, a 

 freer existence awaits him, he creeps 

 slowly upwards toward the sunlight and 

 the air — toward that bright world in 

 which he is to live hereafter. When he 

 emerges from the larval skin, his body is 

 limp, his wings wet and folded like a fan. 



The warm sunshine soon kisses them to 

 strength and they grow brilliant and 

 clear as they dry. A half day is often 

 required to prepare them for flying. 



One of the Dragon's early peculiari- 

 ties remains unchanged — his voracious 

 appetite. As soon as he finds himself 

 able to fly, he begins to chase mosquitoes, 

 the gnats and all manner of little winged 

 creatures. He fills his mouth tmtil it will 

 hold no more, then lights on a sunny 

 rock or a swaying water weed to masti- 

 cate at leisure. 



Each day from April to mid October 

 the Dragon larvae creep upwards, burst 

 their skins and fly forth, decked in every 

 color of the rainbow. Last summer T 

 watched them by the little trout brook 

 where I fished for ninety consecutive 

 days. First came the brown ones with 

 short, thick bodies and glistening wings, 

 next a beautiful red variety with bodies 

 that glowed like rubies. Next in the pro- 

 cession appeared the flies with clouded 

 wings and frost-dusted bodies, followed 

 by the largest and most powerful flyer 

 among them all^ with his mosaic of yel- 

 low, blue, white and black, and his enor- 

 mous compound eyes glistening like 

 jewels. 



One day in July a flock of the most 

 exquisite demoiselles appeared hovering 

 over the water. Their flight was very 

 different .from that of their strong- 

 Vv^inged brothers who had preceded 

 them. They flew in a timid, hesitating 

 way close to the water, touching it every 

 now and then. All had long, slender 

 bodies of a pale pink or blue, shining 



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