COCOON OF THE EMPEROR MOTH.

I found that few caterpillars are so liable to the attack of ichneumon flies as those of the drinker moth. A cocoon now before me is pierced with thirteen holes from which ichneumon flies have issued, having eaten up the caterpillar. The eggs are shown in fig. 1 e.

If the reader will now refer to [plate C], the central figure will be found to represent a strikingly handsome moth, called, from its gorgeous plumage, the “Emperor Moth”.

Its body is covered with a thick downy raiment, and the wings are clothed with plumage of a peculiarly soft character, which is well represented in the figure. The antennæ, too, are elaborately feathered.

Although the beauty of this insect would entitle it to notice in its perfect state, and the peculiar shape of its larva—(see [plate C], fig. 4 a)—would draw attention, yet its chief title to admiration lies in the cocoon which it constructs for its pupal existence.

Externally, there is nothing remarkable in the cocoon; and, as may be seen in the same plate, fig. 4 b, it is a very ordinary, rough, flask-shaped piece of workmanship. But if the outer covering be carefully removed, or if the cocoon be divided lengthways, a very wonderful structure is exhibited.

The inventor of lobster-pots is not known, and history has failed to record the name of the man who first made wire mouse-traps with conical entrances, into which the mice can squeeze themselves, but exit from which is impossible.

But, though the principle had not been applied to lobsters or mice, it was in existence ages upon ages ago. Before human emperors had been invented, and very probably long before mankind had been placed on our earth, the caterpillar of the emperor moth wove its wondrous cell, and thereby became a silent teacher to the cunning race of mankind how to make mouse-traps and lobster-pots.

For inside the rough outer case, which is composed of silken threads, woven almost at random, and very delicate, is a lesser case, corresponding in shape with its covering, but made of stiff threads laid nearly parallel to each other, their points converging at the small end of the case. See the cut on [p. 125].