What would happen if, in exchange for her Praying Mantis, I were to give
the Tachytes a young Grasshopper? In rearing insects at home, I have
already noted that the larvae put up very well with this diet; and I am
surprised that the mother does not follow the example of the Tarsal
Tachytes and provide her family with a skewerful of Locusts instead of the
risky prey which she selects. The diet would be practically the same; and
the terrible shears would no longer be a danger. With such a patient would
her operating-method remain the same; should we again see a sudden recoil
after the first stab under the neck; or would the vivisector modify her art
in conformity with the unfamiliar nervous organization?

This second alternative is highly improbable. It would be nonsense to
expect to see the paralyser vary the number and the distribution of the
wounds according to the genus of the victim. Supremely skilled in the task
that has fallen to its lot, the insect knows nothing further.

The first alternative seems to offer a certain chance and deserves a test.
I offer the Tachytes, deprived of her Mantis, a small Grasshopper, whose
hind-legs I amputate to prevent his leaping. The disabled Acridian jogs
along the sand. The Wasp flies round him for a moment, casts a contemptuous
glance upon the cripple and withdraws without attempting action. Let the
prey offered be large or small, green or grey, short or long, rather like
the Mantis or quite different, all my efforts miscarry. The Tachytes
recognizes in an instant that this is no business of hers; this is not her
family game; she goes off without even honouring my Grasshoppers with a
peck of her mandibles.

This stubborn refusal is not due to gastronomical causes. I have stated
that the larvae reared by my own hands feed on young Grasshoppers as
readily as on young Mantes; they do not seem to perceive any difference