GRASSHOPPERS, CRICKETS AND LOCUSTS
On the open downs, and when the sun is shining, the air is filled with the hum of chirping insect life from the many species of grasshoppers, crickets and small locusts which cover the ground. Every step among the long dry grass disturbs a score of these insects, which leap in all directions from one’s path as we proceed, sometimes dashing on one’s face with a smart blow. The majority of these are of various shades of brown and green, and some of the larger species of grasshopper are remarkable for their protective colouring. Here is one whose legs and wings are exactly like dry grass; the body is like a broad blade of some green plant, the antennæ are two little tufts, like yellow grass, and the eyes are just like two small brown seeds. But, curiously enough, when it flies, a pair of bright scarlet wings make its flight very conspicuous. You pursue it, to catch such a brightly coloured insect, when it settles, and lo! it has vanished, only something resembling green or dry grass remains, which it requires sharp eyes to distinguish from the surrounding herbage. Other grasshoppers are entirely like green grass blades and stalks, and others again resemble, equally closely, dried grass; and unless the insects move under one’s eyes it is almost impossible to detect them. One is puzzled to guess where the vital organs can be placed in such dry-looking little sticks. There is one species of mantis also, which, in the shape and colour of its wings, legs, antennæ and body, presents as close a resemblance to its environment as do the grasshoppers. Their curious heads, however, which turn round and look at one in quite an uncanny manner, and their formidably serrated fore legs or arms, put up in mock pious fashion, give them a distinctly different appearance from the other insects. In the dry and cooler season on almost every square foot of ground is a large brown caterpillar, often many of them close together, feeding on the young blades of grass.
PROTECTIVE RESEMBLANCE
But the most handsome insect one sees on the downs is the Valàlanambòa or dog-locust. This is large and is gorgeously coloured, the body being barred with stripes of yellow and black, while the head and thorax are green and blue and gold, with shades of crimson, and the wings are bright scarlet. It seems a most desirable insect for a cabinet, but it is impossible to keep one, for it has a most abominable smell, and this appears to be its protection, as well as its probable possession of a nauseous taste, so that no bird or other creature feeds upon it. This insect seems therefore a good example of “warning colours”; it has no need of “protective resemblance” lest it should be devoured by enemies; it can flaunt its gay livery without fear, indeed this seems exaggerated in order to say to outsiders, “Hands off!” “Nemo me impune lacessit.” The Malagasy have a proverb which runs thus: “Valàlanambòa: ny tompony aza tsy tia azy”—i.e. “The dog-locust, even its owner dislikes it.”
On the Imèrina downs, and on the outskirts of the forest, there are occasionally seen some enormous earthworms. These are about four times the size, both in length and thickness, of those we see in England; and when I first saw a small group of them they seemed more like small serpents than worms. Darwin’s researches on the part played by earthworms in the renewal of the soil have shown us what a valuable work these humble creatures do for our benefit; and on a morning after a little rain has fallen the grass here in Imèrina is sometimes almost covered by the innumerable little mounds of fresh earth brought up by worms, thus confirming what he has told us about them.
Transplanting Rice
The women always do this. The men, on the left, are digging up and working the clods into soft mud with long-handled spades
The aspect of vegetation, except in the rice-fields, can hardly be said to change much during the autumn months. A plant with pale yellow flowers may be noticed by thousands in marshy grounds, giving quite a mass of colour in many places. A significant name given to autumn is Ménàhitra—i.e. “the grass is red”—that is, turning brown.
Winter: May, June, July and August.—As already mentioned in the introductory sentences of the [previous chapter], winter in central Madagascar is very different from winter in England. We have no snow, nor is there any native word for it, for even the highest peaks of Ankàratra are too low for snow to fall on them; we never see ice (although adventurous foreigners have once or twice seen a thin film of it on pools on the highest hillsides); hoar-frost, however, is not uncommon, and occasionally the leaves of some species of vegetables, as well as those of the banana, turn black with the keen night air. And since there is no rain during our Imèrina winter, the paths are dry, and it is the best time for making long journeys, especially as there is little to be feared from fever when going about at this season of the year. Winter is therefore a pleasant time; the skies are generally clear, the air is fresh and invigorating, and to the cool and bracing temperature of the winter months is doubtless largely due the health and strength which many Europeans enjoy for years together in the central provinces of Madagascar.