Does it really terrify its prey? Under the shining head of the Decticus,
behind the long face of the cricket, who is to say what is passing? No
sign of emotion can reveal itself upon these immovable masks. Yet it
seems certain that the threatened creature is aware of its danger. It
sees, springing up before it, a terrible spectral form with talons
outstretched, ready to fall upon it; it feels itself face to face with
death, and fails to flee while yet there is time. The creature that
excels in leaping, and might so easily escape from the threatening
claws, the wonderful jumper with the prodigious thighs, remains
crouching stupidly in its place, or even approaches the enemy with
deliberate steps.[2]

It is said that young birds, paralysed with terror by the gaping mouth
of a serpent, or fascinated by its gaze, will allow themselves to be
snatched from the nest, incapable of movement. The cricket will often
behave in almost the same way. Once within reach of the enchantress, the
grappling-hooks are thrown, the fangs strike, the double saws close
together and hold the victim in a vice. Vainly the captive struggles;
his mandibles chew the air, his desperate kicks meet with no resistance.
He has met with his fate. The Mantis refolds her wings, the standard of
battle; she resumes her normal pose, and the meal commences.

In attacking the Truxalis and the Ephippigera, less dangerous game than
the grey cricket and the Decticus, the spectral pose is less imposing
and of shorter duration. It is often enough to throw forward the talons;
this is so in the case of the Epeirus, which is seized by the middle of
the body, without a thought of its venomous claws. With the smaller
crickets, which are the customary diet in my cages as at liberty, the
Mantis rarely employs her means of intimidation; she merely seizes the