The mother selects a suitable spot for her eggs on the side where the sun is hottest and always at the edge of the cage, whose wirework supplies her with a support in case of need. Slowly and laboriously she drives her clumsy drill perpendicularly into the sand, this drill being her abdomen, which disappears entirely. In the absence of proper boring-tools, the descent underground is painful and hesitating, but is at last accomplished thanks to perseverance, that powerful lever of the weak.
The mother is now installed, half-buried in the soil. She gives slight starts, which follow one another at regular intervals and seem to correspond with the efforts of the oviduct as it expels the eggs. The neck gives throbs that lift and lower the head with slight jerks. Apart from these pulsations of the head, the body, in its only visible half, the fore-part, is absolutely stationary, so intense is the creature’s absorption in her [[381]]laying. It is not unusual for a male, by comparison a dwarf, to come near and for a long time to gaze curiously at the travailing mother. Sometimes also a few females stand around, with their big faces turned towards their friend in labour. They seem to take an interest in what is happening, perhaps saying to themselves that it will be their turn soon.
After some forty minutes of immobility, the mother suddenly releases herself and bounds far away. She gives not a look at the eggs nor a touch of the broom to conceal the aperture of the well. The hole closes of its own accord, as best it can, by the natural falling-in of the sand. It is an extremely summary performance, marked by an utter absence of maternal solicitude. The Locust mother is not a model of affection.
Others do not forsake their eggs so recklessly. I can name the ordinary Locust with the blue wings striped with black (Œdipoda cœrulescens, Lin.); also Pachytylus nigrofasciatus, De Geer, whose cognomen lacks point, for it ought to suggest either the malachite-green patches of the costume or the white cross of the corselet.
Both, when laying their eggs, adopt the [[382]]same attitude as the Italian Locust. The abdomen is driven perpendicularly into the soil; the rest of the body partly disappears under the sliding sand. We again see a long period of immobility, exceeding half an hour, together with little jerks of the head, a sign of the underground efforts.
The two mothers at last release themselves. With their hind-legs, lifted on high, they sweep a little sand over the orifice of the pit and press it down by stamping rapidly. It is a pretty sight to watch the precipitous action of their slender legs, blue or pink, giving alternate kicks to the opening which is waiting to be plugged. In this manner, with a lively trampling, the entrance to the house is closed and hidden away. The hole in which the eggs were laid disappears from sight, so well obliterated that no evil-intentioned creature could hope to discover it by means of vision alone.
Nor is this all. The driving-power of the two rammers is the hinder thighs, which, in rising and falling, scrape lightly against the edge of the wing-cases. This bow-play produces a faint stridulation, similar to that with which the insect placidly lulls itself to sleep in the sun. [[383]]
The Hen salutes the egg which she has just laid with a song of gladness; she announces her maternal joys, to the whole neighbourhood. Even so does the Locust do in many cases. With her thin scraper, she celebrates the advent of her family. She says:
“Non omnis moriar; I have buried underground the treasure of the future; I have entrusted to the incubation of the great hatcher a keg of germs which will take my place.”
Everything on the site of the nest is put right in one brief spell of work. The mother then leaves the spot, refreshes herself after her exertions with a few mouthfuls of green stuff and prepares to begin again.