These two tiny cupolas, with bow and sounding-board, rather suggest, on a smaller scale, the musical instrument of the Ephippiger, whom the mountain insect resembles to some extent in general appearance.
I do not know what sort of tune cymbals so small as these can produce. I do not remember ever hearing them in their native [[233]]haunts; and three months’ home breeding gives me no further information in this respect. Though they lead a joyous life, my captives are always dumb.
The exiles do not seem greatly to regret their cold peaks, among the orange poppies and saxifrages of arctic climes. What used they to browse upon up there? The Alpine meadow-grass, Mont-Cenis violets, Allioni’s bell-flower? I do not know. In the absence of Alpine grasses, I give them the common endive from my garden. They accept it without hesitation.
They also accept such Locusts as can offer only a feeble resistance; and the diet alternates between animal and vegetable fare. They even practise cannibalism. If one of my Alpine visitors limps and drags a leg, the others eat him up. So far I have seen nothing striking: these are the usual Grasshopper manners.
The interesting sight is the pairing, which occurs suddenly, without any prelude. The meeting takes place sometimes on the ground, sometimes on the wirework of the cage. In the latter case, the sword-bearer, firmly hooked to the trellis, supports the whole weight of the couple. The other is back [[234]]downwards, his head pointing to his mate’s tail. With his long, fleshy-shanked hind-legs, he gets a grip of her sides; with his four front legs, often also with his mandibles, he grasps and squeezes the sabre, which projects slantwise. Thus hanging to this sort of greased pole, he operates in space.
When the meeting takes place on the ground, the couple occupy the same position, only the male is lying on his back in the sand. In both cases the result is an opal grain which, in the visible part of it, resembles in shape and size the swollen end of a grape-pip.
As soon as this object is in position, the male decamps at full speed. Can he be in danger? Possibly, to judge from what I have seen. I admit that I have seen it only once.
The bride in this case was grappling with two rivals. One of them, hanging to the sabre, was at work in due form behind; the other, in front, tightly clawed and with his belly ripped open, was waving his limbs in vain protest against the harpy crunching him impassively in small mouthfuls. I had before my eyes, under even more atrocious conditions, the horrors which the Praying Mantis had shown me in the old days: unbridled [[235]]rut; carnage and voluptuousness in one; a reminiscence perhaps of ancient savagery.
As a rule, the male, a dwarf by comparison with the female, hastens to run away as soon as his task is consummated. The deserted one makes no movement. Then, after waiting twenty minutes or so, she curves herself into a ring and proceeds to enjoy the final banquet. She pulls the sticky raisin-pip into shreds which are chewed with grave appreciation and then gulped down. It takes her more than an hour to swallow the thing. When not a crumb remains, she descends from the wire gauze and mingles with the herd. Her eggs will be laid in a day or two.
The proof is established. The matrimonial habits of the White-faced Decticus are not an exception due to the heat of the climate: the Grasshopper from the cold peaks shares them and surpasses them.