Towards the middle of June a female attacks a male before my eyes. The male is recognisable by his slightly smaller size. The operation commences. Raising the ends of the wing-covers, the assailant seizes her victim by the extremity of the abdomen, from the dorsal side. She pulls at him furiously, eagerly munching with her mandibles. The victim, who is in the prime of life, does not defend himself, nor turn upon his assailant. He pulls his hardest in the opposite direction to free himself from those terrible fangs; he advances and recoils as he is overpowered by or overpowers the assassin; and there his resistance ends. The struggle lasts a quarter of an hour. Other beetles, passing by, call a halt, and seem to say "My turn next!" Finally, redoubling his efforts, the male frees himself and flies. If he had not succeeded in escaping the ferocious female would undoubtedly have eviscerated him.
THE GOLDEN GARDENER: THE MATING SEASON OVER, THE MALES
ARE EVISCERATED BY THE FEMALES.
A few days later I witness a similar scene, but this time the tragedy is played to the end. Once more it is a female who seizes a male from behind. With no other protest except his futile efforts to escape, the victim is forced to submit. The skin finally yields; the wound enlarges, and the viscera are removed and devoured by the matron, who empties the carapace, her head buried in the body of her late companion. The legs of the miserable victim tremble, announcing the end. The murderess takes no notice; she continues to rummage as far as she can reach for the narrowing of the thorax. Nothing is left but the closed boat-shaped wing-covers and the fore parts of the body. The empty shell is left lying on the scene of the tragedy.
In this way must have perished the beetles—always males—whose remains I find in the cage from time to time; thus the survivors also will perish. Between the middle of June and the 1st of August the inhabitants of the cage, twenty-five in number at the outset, are reduced to five, all of whom are females. All the males, to the number of twenty, have disappeared, eviscerated and completely emptied. And by whom? Apparently by the females.
That this is the case is attested in the first place by the two assaults of which I was perchance the witness; on two occasions, in broad daylight, I saw the female devouring the male, having opened the abdomen under the wing-covers, or having at least attempted to do so. As for the rest of the massacres, although direct observation was lacking, I had one very valuable piece of evidence. As we have seen, the victim does not retaliate, does not defend himself, but simply tries to escape by pulling himself away.
If it were a matter of an ordinary fight, a conflict such as might arise in the struggle for life, the creature attacked would obviously retaliate, since he is perfectly well able to do so; in an ordinary conflict he would meet force by force, and return bite for bite. His strength would enable him to come well out of a struggle, but the foolish creature allows himself to be devoured without retaliating. It seems as though an invincible repugnance prevents him from offering resistance and in turn devouring the devourer. This tolerance reminds one of the scorpion of Languedoc, which on the termination of the hymeneal rites allows the female to devour him without attempting to employ his weapon, the venomous dagger which would form a formidable defence; it reminds us also of the male of the Praying Mantis, which still embraces the female though reduced to a headless trunk, while the latter devours him by small mouthfuls, with no rebellion or defence on his part. There are other examples of hymeneal rites to which the male offers no resistance.
The males of my menagerie of Gardeners, one and all eviscerated, speak of similar customs. They are the victims of the females when the latter have no further use for them. For four months, from April to August, the insects pair off continually; sometimes tentatively, but usually the mating is effective. The business of mating is all but endless for these fiery spirits.
The Gardener is prompt and businesslike in his affairs of the heart. In the midst of the crowd, with no preliminary courtship, the male throws himself upon the female. The female thus embraced raises her head a trifle as a sign of acquiescence, while the cavalier beats the back of her neck with his antennæ. The embrace is brief, and they abruptly separate; after a little refreshment the two parties are ready for other adventures, and yet others, so long as there are males available. After the feast, a brief and primitive wooing; after the wooing, the feast; in such delights the life of the Gardener passes.