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136
My Studio Neighbors
·
W. Hamilton Gibson
36
But
this
uncouth
shape,
which
so
courts
obscurity,
is
not
always
thus
so
reasonably
retiring.
A
few
glass
tumblers
inverted
above
as
many
of
these
larger
holes
during
the
summer
will
intercept
the
winged
sprite
into
which
he
is
shortly
to
be
transfigured--a
brilliant
metallic-hued
beetle,
perhaps
flashing
with
bronzy
gold
or
glittering
like
an
emerald--the
beautiful
cicindela,
or
tiger-beetle,
known
to
the
entomologist
as
the
most
agile
winged
among
the
coleopterous
tribe;
known
to
the
populace,
perhaps,
simply
as
a
bright
glittering
fly
that
revels
in
the
hot
summer
sands
of
the
sea-shore
or
dusty
country
road,
making
its
short
spans
of
glittering
flight
from
the
very
feet
of
the
observer.
If
we
capture
one
of
them
with
our
butterfly-net
he
will
be
found
to
bear
a
general
resemblance
to
the
portrait
here
indicated--a
slender-legged,
proportionably
large-headed
beetle,
with
formidable
jaws
capable
of
wide
extension,
and
re-enforced
by
an
insatiate
carnivorous
hunger
inherited
from
his
former
estate.
It
will
thus
be
seen
that
all
the
holes
which
we
observe
in
the
ground
are
not
ant-holes;
nor,
indeed,
are
they
monopolized
by
the
tiger-beetles.
There
were
other
tunnels
which
I
saw
dug
in
my
square
yard
of
earth
on
that
morning,
which,
while
not
of
quite
such
depth,
represented
equally
deep-laid
plans.
While
observing
my
cicindelas
on
that
morning,
my
attention
was
at
length
diverted
by
an
old
friend
of
mine,
who
gave
promise
of
much
entertainment--a
tiny
black
wasp,
whose
restless,
rapid,
zigzag,
apparently
aimless
wanderings
over
the
ground
brought
him
into
continual
danger
of
contact
with
the
snatching
jaws
of
the
cave-dwelling
tiger,
from
which,
however,
he
somehow
escaped,
though
I
distinctly
heard
the
occasional
clicking
of
the
eager
jaws.
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