the head.  The females could not have looked more terrible before a grey cricket or a Decticus.  Without any motives that I could see, two neighbours suddenly arose in the attitude of conflict.  They turned their heads to the right and the left, provoking one another, insulting one another.  The pouf! pouf! of the wings rubbed by the abdomen sounded the charge.  Although the duel was to terminate at the first scratch, without any more serious consequence, the murderous talons, at first folded, open like the leaves of a book, and are extended laterally to protect the long waist and abdomen.  The pose is superb, but less terrific than that assumed when the fight is to be to the death.

Then one of the grappling-hooks with a sudden spring flies out and strikes the rival; with the same suddenness it flies back and assumes a position of guard.  The adversary replies with a riposte.  The fencing reminds one not a little of two cats boxing one another’s ears.  At the first sign of blood on the soft abdomen, or even at the slightest wound, one admits herself to be conquered and retires.  The other refurls her battle standard and goes elsewhere to meditate the capture of a cricket, apparently calm, but in reality ready to recommence the quarrel.

Very often the matter turns out more tragically.  In duels to the death the pose of attack is assumed in all its beauty.  The murderous talons unfold and rise in the air.  Woe to the vanquished! for the victor seizes her in her vice-like grip and at once commences to eat her; beginning, needless to say, at the back of the neck.  The odious meal proceeds as calmly as if it were merely a matter of munching a grasshopper; and the survivor enjoys her sister quite as much as lawful game.  The spectators do not protest, being only too willing to do the like on the first occasion.

Ferocious creatures!  It is said that even wolves do not eat one another.  The Mantis is not so scrupulous; she will eat her fellows when her favourite quarry, the cricket, is attainable and abundant.

These observations reach a yet more revolting extreme.  Let us inquire into the habits of the insect at breeding time, and to avoid the confusion of a crowd let us isolate the couples under different covers.  Thus each pair will have their own dwelling, where nothing can trouble their honeymoon.  We will not forget to provide them with abundant food; there shall not be the excuse of hunger for what is to follow.

We are near the end of August.  The male Mantis, a slender and elegant lover, judges the time to be propitious.  He makes eyes at his powerful companion; he turns his head towards her; he bows his neck and raises his thorax.  His little pointed face almost seems to wear an expression.  For a long time he stands thus motionless, in contemplation of the desired one.  The latter, as though indifferent, does not stir.  Yet the lover has seized upon a sign of consent:  a sign of which I do not know the secret.  He approaches:  suddenly he erects his wings, which are shaken with a convulsive tremor.