[Illustration: _The apparatus in the act of seizing._]

Thus provided, the larva is a formidable creature to the inhabitants of the pond or brook; few, indeed, more so. It preys with incessant activity on all aquatic insects that happen to come in its way, and sometimes, as we have said, even upon tadpoles. They do not even spare one another, and woe to the unhappy relative of the family who happens to wander near the abode of another of the same family, anxious to begin his feasting for the day! So ferocious are they, that they even attack small fish, and make little work of swallowing them up. Not only are these creatures fierce, but they also possess all the cunning of a tiger or a cat. To watch them seize their prey is an interesting occupation, and as the larvæ are common enough, and may be easily recognised by comparing them with the accompanying cut, we may venture to recommend the amusement of observing their proceedings to the reader. A little way off lies an unsuspecting insect delighting in the warm sunshine, and securely floating upon the waters on the corner of a leaf. Such an idea as danger at hand is probably the very last from its conceptions, and pluming its bright and glossy wings, it beguiles away the sunny hour unmolested by a passing enemy, or a breath of air. The larva has marked it already for its own.[E] See it rouse itself up, and noiselessly make ready to pounce upon the unsuspecting lounger. It creeps stealthily along, concealing itself from view as far as possible, and not even the tell-tale glassy surface of the water feels its movements. Measuring its distance well, the larva prepares to seize its prey; in a moment, swifter than the eye can follow, the victim is caught by the apparatus we have described, and in another instant, is in all the agonies of a violent death in the mouth of the larva. So exceedingly cautious are these larvæ in their movements, and so expert and active in darting upon their prey, that it scarcely ever escapes their power.

The Life of an Insect — Part 46