The road shimmers like a sheet of molten steel. From the dusty and
melancholy olive trees rises a mighty, throbbing hum, a great
andante whose executants have the whole sweep of woods for their
orchestra. 'Tis the concert of the Cicada, whose bellies sway and
rustle with increasing frenzy as the temperature rises. The
strident scrapings of the Cicada of the Ash, the Carcan of the
district, lend their rhythm to the one note symphony of the common
cicada. This is the moment: come along! And, for five or six
weeks, oftenest in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, I set
myself to explore the flinty plateau.

The Chalicodoma's nests abound, but I cannot see a single Anthrax
make a black speck upon their surface. Not one, busy with her
laying, settles in front of me. At most, from time to time, I can
just see one passing far away, with an impetuous rush. I lose her
in the distance; and that is all. It is impossible to be present
at the laying of the egg. I know the little that I learnt from the
cliffs in the Legue and nothing more.

As soon as I recognize the difficulty, I hasten to enlist
assistants. Shepherds--mere small boys--keep the sheep in these
stony meadows, where the flocks graze, to the greater glory of our
local mutton, on the camphor saturated badafo, that is to say,
spike lavender. I explain as well as I can the object of my
search; I talk to them of a big black Fly and the nests on which
she ought to settle, the clay nests so well known to those who have
learnt how to extract the honey with a straw in springtime and
spread it on a crust of bread. They are to watch that fly and take
good note of the nests on which they may see her alight; and, on
the same evening, when they bring their flocks back to the village,