Read Dooryard Stories Page 18


  THE SAD STORY OF THE HOG CATERPILLAR

  THE grape-vines on the trellis were carefully pruned and tended, butthat did not prevent a few Hog Caterpillars of the Vine from makingtheir home upon them. There were a number of other Hog Caterpillars onthe place, and all expected to be Hawk Moths when they grew up.Sometimes they thought and talked too much about this, and planned toofar ahead. They might better have thought more about being the bestkind of Caterpillars. For sometimes, when they were telling what greatthings they would do by-and-by, they forgot to do exactly as theyshould just then.

  None of them knew when they got their name. Somebody who noticed theirsmall heads and very smooth, fat, and puffy-looking bodies must havebegun it. Perhaps, too, this person thought that the queer littlethings sticking upward and backward from the end of their bodieslooked like the tail of a Hog. Those who lived on grape-vines werecalled Hog Caterpillars of the Vine. Then, when their friends spoke ofthem, people knew at once to what family they belonged.

  If you were to look closely at a Hog Caterpillar of the Vine, youwould think him handsome. He has seven reddish spots along the middleof his back, every one set in a patch of pale yellow. On each side youwould see a long green stripe with white edges, and below this youwould find seven slanting white ones.

  When these Hog Caterpillars of the Vine were hatched, they were very,very tiny, and had to feed and rest and change their skins over andover, just as all Caterpillars must. Of course when they changed theirskins, they had nobody to help them, because their parents were HawkMoths and never bothered with the care of children. They believed thatCaterpillars should help themselves. "They will have plenty of time toplay when they are grown up," the Hawk Moths said, "and it is muchbetter for children to have to change their own skins. If they dothat, they will be more careful of their new ones, when they getthem."

  There is a great deal in the way a child is brought up, and noCaterpillar ever says, "I can't do this;" or, "Somebody must help meget off my old skin, so there!" No indeed! Caterpillars helpthemselves and make no fuss at all.

  This is not saying that they have no faults. It just means that thisfault was not one of theirs. Perhaps their worst fault was braggingabout what they were going to do. It was either that or carelessness,and every now and then some one of them would be dreadfully punished.With so many hungry birds around, Caterpillars should be very careful.One of those on the grape-vines laughed at a Robin for being afraid ofSilvertip. Of course he did not expect to be heard by any except hisrelatives. He was, though, and as soon as Silvertip had walked off,the Robin came back and hunted for him and ate him. He was very, verysorry for his rudeness, and tried to wriggle out of it, when the Robinspoke about it, but he should have remembered sooner. "I laughedbefore I thought," he said. "I'll never do it again. Never! Never!"

  "Say nothing more about it," answered the Robin, who was noted for hispolite ways; "I am very sure you won't." Then he swallowed him whilehe was talking. The Catbird said that the Robin took in all that theCaterpillar was saying, but the other birds didn't quite understandwhat he meant by that.

  The oldest Hog Caterpillar of the Vine was always reckless. He wouldfeed in plain sight in the sunshine if he wanted to, and he wasforever telling what a fine Hawk Moth he expected to be. "If a birdcomes after me," he would say, "I will just let go of the leaf andfall to the ground in a little round bunch. I can lie so quietly inthe grass that he will never see me." He looked so haughty when sayingthis that none of his relatives dared to say a word, although a prettyyoung one wept quietly under her grape-leaf. He had been veryattentive to her, and she wanted to marry him after they had changedinto Moths. Such plans, you know, might be sadly upset by a hungry andsharp-sighted bird.

  Yet birds were not the only people to fear. The Ichneumon Wasps andtheir cousins the Braconids were always flying around and looking forfat and juicy Caterpillars, and many a promising young fellow had beenpounced upon by them. They were so much smaller and more quiet thanthe birds that they were really much more to be feared. His friendsand relatives used to tell the oldest Hog Caterpillar to keep hiddenfrom them, but he paid no attention. "Do you suppose," said he, "thata fine fellow like me is going to sneak under leaves for a slenderIchneumon or a little Braconid? Not I!"

  So it is not surprising that when a mother Braconid came along oneday, looking for a good place to lay eggs, she saw him busily eatingin the sunshine. He had just taken the sixth mouthful from anespecially fine leaf when she alighted on him. "Don't move!" she said."Your position is exactly right. Keep perfectly still and I shall soonbe through."

  The Hog Caterpillar of the Vine understood every word she said, but hemoved as fast as he could. Unfortunately, you know, his legs were allon the under side of his body, and were so stubby that he could notreach up to push her away. He did rub up against a leaf and brush heroff for a minute, but she was right back and talking to him again.

  "You are very foolish to make such a fuss," she said. "You mightbetter keep still and get it over. I have decided on you, and youcan't help yourself. Now hold still!"

  There was only one other thing left for the poor Hog Caterpillar ofthe Vine to do. He let go of the grape leaf and fell to the ground. Hehad hardly struck it, however, when the Braconid was on his back. "Nomore nonsense," said she sternly. "You really make me quite out ofpatience, and I shall not wait any longer. I want to get my eggs laidand have some time for play."

  Then she ran her ovipositor, which is the tube through which insectslay their eggs, into his fat back and slipped an egg down through it.How it did hurt! The poor Hog Caterpillar of the Vine squirmed withpain, and all the Braconid said was: "It would be much easier for meif you would lie quietly. Still, I am used to working underdifficulties.... You won't mind it so after a while." Then she drewout her ovipositor, stuck it into another place, and laid another egg.

  Before she left him, the Braconid had laid thirty-five eggs in hisbody, and the Hog Caterpillar of the Vine was so tired with pain andanger that he could hardly move. Of the two, perhaps the anger tiredhim the more. He had time to do a great deal of thinking before heclimbed onto the vine again. "I will be more careful after this," hesaid, "but I guess there isn't any need of telling the other fellowswhat has happened. None of them were around when that dreadfulBraconid came."

  When he was up on the vine again, one of his relatives said: "You looksick. What is the matter?" And he answered: "Oh, I am rather tired.Guess this skin is getting too tight."

  The next day he felt quite well, but as time went on he grew worse andworse. He ate a great deal, yet he did not grow as he should, and theother Hog Caterpillars of the Vine began to talk about it. The truthwas, you know, that the Braconid's thirty-five eggs had all hatched,and her children were eating up the poor Hog Caterpillar of the Vine.They were fat little Worms then, and when they were old enough to spincocoons, they cut thirty-five tiny doors in his skin and spun theircocoons on the outside.

  Then all his relatives and friends knew what was the matter with him,for wherever he went he had to carry on his back and sides thirty-fivebeautiful little shining white cocoons. He did not think thembeautiful, yet they were, and the Braconid mother looked at them withgreat pride as she flew past.

  "I should like to see them cut off the tiny round lids of theircocoons," she said, "and fly away, but I suppose I shall not be aroundthen. It is very hard not to have the pleasure of bringing up one'sown children. Yet I suppose it is better for them, and one must not beselfish." She flew away with a very good, almost too good, look on herface.

  The Hog Caterpillar of the Vine was so tired that he died--what therewas left of him. Really the Braconid babies had eaten most of himbefore spinning their cocoons. The only truly happy people around werethe Braconid children, who came out strong and active the next day.

  This is all a very, very sad story. It is true, though, and it had tobe written, because there may still be some Hog Caterpillars of theVine, or perhaps some other people, who will not take advice aboutwhat they
should do, and so they come to trouble.