A very singular larva which, both for offence and defence, adopts a most extraordinary procedure, must be mentioned by itself. This larva is not unfrequently to be found in our houses, and is said to feed upon our disgusting and annoying invaders--the bugs; but it so completely contrives to conceal its real character, that not once in a hundred times would it, probably, be recognised as an insect at all. It collects together a number of particles of sand, or fragments of wool, or silk, or earth, and with singular skill, contrives to form a sort of coat out of these, in which it envelopes itself. Thus attired, as may be imagined, it is not easy to discover what the object really is, and it thus, undoubtedly, escapes the undesirable notice of any of its enemies. But more than this: like those North American Indians, who hunt by concealing themselves in the skins of wolves, and so attract less attention from the herd than they would do if they were to expose themselves in their natural aspect to view, this crafty larva steals upon its prey in much the same manner, although it can run with sufficient swiftness when necessary. It creeps forward with the greatest stealth, moving only one leg at a time, and thus quite insensibly approaches its victim, who is not at all alarmed at what merely appears to be a lump of dust. Soon, however, it is convinced of its fatal mistake, and discovers the terrible fact that it is in the embrace of an unsparing devourer.

Other larvæ escape notice in a singular manner, by their close resemblance to little pieces of stick. Thus, we are told by Messrs. Kirby and Spence, that "there is a certain tribe of caterpillars called surveyors (_Geometræ_), that will sometimes support themselves, for whole hours, by means of their posterior legs, solely upon their hinder extremity, forming an angle, of various degrees, with the branch on which they are standing, and looking like one of its twigs. The body is kept stiff and immovable, with the separations of the segments scarcely visible; it terminates in a knob, the legs being applied close, so as to resemble a bud at the end of a twig; besides which, it often exhibits intermediate tubercles, which increase the resemblance. Its colour, too, is usually obscure, and similar to that of the bark of a tree: so that, doubtless, the sparrows and other birds are frequently deceived by this manoeuvre, and thus balked of their prey. Rösel's gardener, mistaking one of these caterpillars for a dead twig, started back in great alarm, when, upon attempting to break it off, he found it was a living animal."

The Life of an Insect — Part 67