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FOOD OF INSECTS. 



361 



epicure, never, however great may be its hunger, deigning to 

 taste of a carcass unless it has previously had the enjoyment 

 of killing it ; and then extracting only the finer juices. In 

 what possible way can it contrive to supply such a succession 

 of delicacies, when its ordinary habits seem to unfit it for ob- 

 taining even the coarsest provision ? You shall hear. It ac- 

 complishes by artifice what all its open efforts would have 

 been unequal to. It digs in loose sand a conical pit, in the 

 bottom of which it conceals itself, and there seizes upon the 

 insects which, chancing to stumble over the margin, are pre- 

 cipitated down the sides to the centre. " How wonderful ! " 

 you exclaim ; but you will be still more surprised when 

 I have described the whole process by which it excavates 

 its trap, and the ingenious contrivances to which it has re- 

 course. 



Its first concern is to find a soil of loose dry sand, in the 

 neighbourhood of which, indeed, its provident mother has 

 previously taken care to place it, and in a sheltered spot near 

 an old wall, or at the foot of a tree. This is necessary on 

 two accounts : the prey most acceptable to it abounds there, 

 and no other soil would suit for the construction of its snare. 

 Its next step is to trace in the sand a circle, which, like the 

 furrow with which Komulus marked out the limits of his new 

 city, is to determine the extent of its future abode. This 

 being done, it proceeds to excavate the cavity by throwing 

 out the sand in a mode not less singular than efiective. 

 Placing itself in the inside of the circle which it has traced, 

 it thrusts the hind part of its body under the sand, and with 

 one of its fore-legs, serving as a shovel, it charges its flat and 

 square head with a load, which it immediately throws over 

 the outside of the circle with a jerk strong enough to carry it 

 to the distance of several inches. This little manoevure is 

 executed with surprising promptitude and address. A gar- 

 dener does not operate so quickly or so well with his spade 

 and his foot, as the ant-lion with its head and leg. Walking 

 backwards, and constantly repeating the process, it soon ar- 

 rives at the part of the circle from which it set out. It then 

 traces a new one, excavates another furrow in a similar man- 

 ner, and, by a repetition of these operations, at length arrives 



