290 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS. 



NEUMON, as I shall venture to call this species, is very local, and 

 while abounding in one place, may never be seen in another spot 

 at the distance of a very few hundred yards. I give it the popu- 

 lar name of Burnet Ichneumon for the same reason — comparing 

 great things with small — that Caius Martins bore the title of Co- 

 riolanus, and Publius Cornelius Scipio was termed Africanus, 

 namely, that it destroys so many Burnet Moths. 



In its perfect state the Ichneumon looks like a rather small 

 gnat, and would probably be mistaken for that insect by a non- ■ 

 entomological observer. When examined through an ordinary 

 magnifying glass, it is seen to possess a wondrous beauty which 

 no one could ever suspect when looking at it with the unaided 

 eye. The body and head are of a pale yellow color, except the 

 prominent compound eyes, which are dark blackish-brown. The 

 head is round and rather small, but the thorax is of enormous 

 size, quite as proportionately large as the chest of a man would 

 be did it project some eighteen inches in front and reach to his 

 heels. 



In singular contrast to the huge thorax is the very tiny abdo- 

 men, which is of a retort shape, curved, and fixed in the upper 

 surface of the thorax by its smaller end. Indeed, the abdomen 

 bears the same relation to the thorax that the " tick" in the capi- 

 tal letter Q does to the whole of the letter. The limbs are long, 

 and, when the size of the insect is considered, are singularly pow- 

 erful, especially the last pair of legs. We think the legs of the 

 kangaroo are enormously large in proportion to the size of its 

 , body, but they must be doubled in length as well as in thickness 

 to equal those of the Burnet Ichneumon. The fore-limbs are not 

 so very large, but they are long and possessed of great clasping 

 power, aided by the hooked feet. 



What, then, is the use of such powerful limbs? The habits of 

 the insect supply the answer. 



As is the case with many ichneumon flies, this insect — which, 

 by the way, is not a fly, but a near relation to the bee and ant — 

 deposits its eggs upon caterpillars, boring holes in their skin with 

 its pointed ovipositor, which is the analogue of the bee's sting, 

 and inserting its eggs in the perforations. As may naturally be 

 imagined, the caterpillar has a very strong objection to this pro- 

 ceeding, and when the ichneumon settles upon it, and begins to 

 use her weapon, twists and wriggles about like a captured eel. 



Now the strong limbs of the ichneumon come into play. Mi- 



