a sudden sound like a cry of anguish, short and strident. It is
the despairing lamentation of the Cigale surprised in the silence by the
grasshopper, that ardent hunter of the night, which leaps upon the
Cigale, seizes it by the flank, tears it open, and devours the contents
of the stomach. After the orgy of music comes night and assassination.

I obtained an insight into this tragedy in the following manner: I was
walking up and down before my door at daybreak when something fell from
the neighbouring plane-tree uttering shrill squeaks. I ran to see what
it was. I found a green grasshopper eviscerating a struggling Cigale. In
vain did the latter squeak and gesticulate; the other never loosed its
hold, but plunged its head into the entrails of the victim and removed
them by little mouthfuls.

[Illustration: 1. THE CIGALE LAYING HER EGGS.

2. THE GREEN GRASSHOPPER, THE FALSE CIGALE OF THE NORTH, DEVOURING THE
TRUE CIGALE, A DWELLER IN THE SOUTH.]

This was instructive. The attack was delivered high up above my head, in
the early morning, while the Cigale was resting; and the struggles of
the unfortunate creature as it was dissected alive had resulted in the
fall of assailant and assailed together. Since then I have often been
the witness of similar assassinations.

I have even seen the grasshopper, full of audacity, launch itself in
pursuit of the Cigale, who fled in terror. So the sparrow-hawk pursues
the skylark in the open sky. But the bird of prey is less ferocious than
the insect; it pursues a creature smaller than itself. The locust, on
the contrary, assails a colossus, far larger and far more vigorous than
its enemy; yet the result is a foregone conclusion, in spite of this
disproportion. With its powerful mandibles, like pincers of steel, the
grasshopper rarely fails to eviscerate its captive, which, being
weaponless, can only shriek and struggle.

The Cigale is an easy prey during its hours of somnolence. Every Cigale
encountered by the ferocious grasshopper on its nocturnal round must
miserably perish. Thus are explained those sudden squeaks of anguish
which are sometimes heard in the boughs during the hours of the night
and early morning, although the cymbals have long been silent. The
sea-green bandit has fallen upon some slumbering Cigale. When I wished
to rear some green grasshoppers I had not far to seek for the diet of my
pensioners; I fed them on Cigales, of which enormous numbers were
consumed in