From this extract we see that the whole period from the bursting of the case to the full expansion of the wings was only twenty-six minutes; and it will be well to remind the reader that the process occupies even a much shorter time than this with many species, both of butterflies and moths. It will be observed, also, that the evening was chosen as the time for the observation. There was a reason for this. The Poplar Hawk Moth, as is the case with many others, almost invariably emerges from the chrysalis in the evening—usually after dark. But it may be mentioned in passing that a far larger number of the Lepidoptera as invariably emerge in the morning.
Again we will return to our newly emerged insect, for there are still one or two interesting points to observe. The wings have fully expanded, it is true, but how very limp they are! Take the creature on the tip of your finger and hold it so that its body is in a horizontal position. Immediately the wings bend downward with their own weight, so soft and flexible are they. The body, too, is still very soft, and apparently much too heavy for flight. Then, if you place it on a flat surface, it will immediately try to find some perpendicular or overhanging surface from which it can suspend itself by means of its legs, so that the pendant and straightened wings are in the best possible position for drying. As the insect walks away in search of such a resting place, the body still drags as it did before, and the wings bend over, either both on one side or one on each side of the body.
It is some time before the wings are sufficiently dry and rigid for flight, but the period varies greatly with different species.
Some of the small butterflies and moths take to flight long before an hour has passed, but in many cases several hours elapse before the creature starts from its first resting place. Butterflies that emerge in the morning spend their first day actively on the wing; but the nocturnal moths that emerge early in the day do not fly till evening twilight. When, however, the time arrives, the insect flutters its wings as if to test their power before committing itself to the air; and frequently, after only a few seconds spent in this preparatory exercise, off it darts with astonishing rapidity. But others seem far more cautious. They vibrate their wings, sometimes with such rapidity that they are lost in a kind of mist, and with such power that their bodies would be carried suddenly into the air were they not firmly anchored by three pairs of hooked claws. Then, continuing the rapid vibration, they move slowly along, always holding on firmly by one or more legs, as if to still further satisfy themselves concerning the efficiency of their wings. Then they venture on a few short trial trips from one neighbouring object to another, and at last gain sufficient confidence for a long voyage.
How strange must be the feelings of a winged insect during its first flight! After a long period during which it was a helpless, crawling grub, and this followed by a term of imprisonment during which it was almost or quite shut off from the world, it now suddenly acquires such great powers of locomotion that it is often a match for ourselves.
But, alas! this life is short. A few days spent in sporting with those it meets and in sucking the sweet juices of many flowers; then a day or two during which the female deposits its eggs; again a few days employed in pleasures that become less and less attractive, till, at last, the creature becomes weary of life and settles down to die.
We have now traced the complete life history of the Lepidoptera from the egg to the perfect insect, avoiding descriptions that apply only to certain species as far as possible, excepting where such are useful as illustrations.
Only one thing more remains to be done before we start in real earnest with our practical work. We shall shortly be giving hints on the modes of capture, the 'setting' and the preservation of butterflies and moths. And in so doing we shall often have to observe important points in which our dealings with these two great divisions of the order will differ very materially. Hence we
must not consider ourselves ready to proceed with the practical portion of the entomologist's labours till we are perfectly satisfied that we know the main features that enable us to distinguish between the butterflies and the moths, and also know just a little concerning the subdivisions on each side.
This, then, shall form the subject of the next short chapter.