Virgil's description, though scarcely accurate in all points, gives us a lively image of this insect combat. The kakerlac, however, is the Turnus, and the warrior wasp the Æneas of the fight. The wasp is the first to attack, and darts upon the other, seizing it by the muzzle with its strong jaws, then bending its body so as to bring its tail under the abdomen of the kakerlac, the lance with its charge of poison is deep-plunged into the body of the unhappy foe, imbuing a deadly venom into its system. Having made this thrust, the warrior looses the foe, and soars in triumph a little way into the air, satisfied of a successful issue.
The wretched kakerlac, after a few brief convulsions, lies paralysed on the ground unable to stir a step from the spot where it encountered its terrible adversary. Fully aware of this, the victorious wasp, after taking a few turns, as if to proclaim the downfall of the Giant Kakerlac to the surrounding neighbourhood, returns to the scene where the conflict was fought. The kakerlac, unable to resist the victor, and being naturally, though a great devourer, a very faint-hearted creature, lies immovable while the wasp seizes the prostrate foe by the head, and in a sort of triumphal march drags it along the road to its nest. But though the kakerlac was not a difficult enemy to overcome, the weight and size of its body are a sore burden to the victor wasp. The way to the nest is long, tedious, and rugged. After a hard pull over all sorts of obstacles the wasp becomes completely breathless, and is obliged to let go, and for a rest it generally rises into the air, probably with a view of reconnoitring future difficulties, and of ascertaining the best route to pursue. Thus, after alternately dragging along the body of its victim and rising up to spy out the path, at length the conqueror succeeds in bringing the carcase home.
Here, however, arises another difficulty. To attempt to get the body of the huge kakerlac in, is just as if one were to attempt to get an elephant through a small street-door. What is to be done? The wasp enters the hole backwards, and, seizing the head of the kakerlac, endeavours with all its might to drag it in, but all in vain. Many times it repeats these efforts with the same want of success; and now it appears that its labours in bringing hither the corpse, and its dangers in the battle, were all for nought, for the great body cannot be put in the place the wasp had designed for it. As if exasperated with the difficulties, out comes the wasp in fury, and falling upon the body of the kakerlac, hews off the large wing-cases, together with several of the limbs, and goes back into the hole again to repeat the attempt to get it in. Success at length crowns its efforts; by little and little the body becomes lost to sight, and finally disappears altogether from view, being carried down to the very bottom of the nest. Here the larva, as soon as hatched, feeds upon it, thrives, and grows, and falls asleep, awaiting the time when itself shall awake to follow in the steps of the glittering and formidable warrior who, with the boldness of an amazon and affection of the tenderest of mothers, supplied it with nourishment during its hours of infancy.
This may be thought a scene of sad carnage, but the following will, perhaps, appear even more so. What should we say, if deep in the forests of some wild uncultivated country was found a den, the bottom of which was strewed with skulls, with bones, and mangled limbs? What fearful scenes should we not suspect to have taken place in this dark and horrid place; and as we shuddered in looking round upon its walls, as the once witnesses of terrible deeds, we might even fancy we heard the cry of the poor traveller, whose last agonies were seen by no eye but that of the monster who had waylaid and murdered him? Such a den may be found in the forest, made horrible by the cut-off heads, limbs, and wings of insects—it is the habitation of the carnivorous larva of a wasp. Nay more, as is seen in the engraving, the insect monster actually works up the cut-off wings and limbs into a sort of covering for itself, and finally buries itself in a shroud partly made of the spoils of former victims.
The Larva of a Wasp in its coat of wings and limbs.
Perhaps the carnivorous larva of the tiger-beetle, or cicindela, is as ferocious a being as any in this state. In this respect, indeed, it resembles the perfect insect, whose title sufficiently indicates its swiftness, cunning, and blood-thirsty nature. "These larvæ," writes Mr. Westwood, "burrow cylindric retreats in the earth, to the depth of a foot or more, employing their legs and jaws in loosening the particles of sand and earth, which they carry to the surface upon their broad, saucer-like head, ascending by the assistance of the two hooks upon the back, somewhat after the fashion of a sweep going up a chimney! Having completed this burrow, they station themselves, by means of their legs and back hooks, at its mouth, their large flattened head and great segment filling the hole." Here they remain all day long, and many an insect might pass close by, little dreaming of the terrible foe who lay under that trap-door. Presently comes a spider scrambling over the ground in haste to mount up a branch on which to hang one of its web lines; the treacherous trap-door is in its direct path. Its feet rest on it; instantly the trap drops, and the poor insect falls into the dark den, and is caught in the powerful jaws of the artful larva. Truly, there is something even to man a little intimidating in the sight of such a monster as is represented here; how much more to the unfortunate insect who happens to be caught in its embrace, and having only time to just catch a glimpse of its fearful captor, is dragged down in a cloud of dust to be devoured in darkness at the bottom of the den. Yet this also, like other cruel creatures, is in reality a very timid larva, and instantly on the approach of danger, drops to the bottom of the cell, where, if we have courage to pursue it, we shall find it much in the attitude in which it is here represented. The singular pair of hooks on its back are used as the flukes of an anchor to sustain the insect in the position it assumes at the mouth of the cell.
Larva of the Tiger-Beetle.
Mention has already been made in the previous chapter of the insects called Ichneumons, which deposit their eggs in the bodies of the larvæ of other insects. These, when hatched, are also to be reckoned among the larvæ which prey upon flesh, since they devour the bodies of the larvæ in which they have been deposited. They are thus most useful to mankind in destroying the devourers of his vegetable food.