THE GREAT PEACOCK MOTH
It was an evening long to be remembered, when the Great Peacock Moths
came to my house. This Moth is magnificent, the largest in Europe, clad
in maroon velvet, with a necktie of white fur. The wings are sprinkled
with gray and brown, crossed by a faint zigzag and edged with smoky
white, and they have in the center a round patch, a great eye with a
black pupil and a many-colored iris containing black, white, chestnut,
and purple arcs. The Moth is hatched from a Caterpillar also remarkable
in appearance, being yellow with beads of turquoise-blue. It feeds on
almond leaves.
Well, on the morning of the sixth of May, a female Great Peacock
Moth came out of her cocoon in my presence, on the table of my
insect-laboratory. I at once caged her under a wire-gauze bell-jar. I
did not think much about the matter. I kept her on general principles,
for I am always on the lookout for something to happen.
I was glad afterwards that I had done so. At nine o’clock in the
evening, just as the household is going to bed, there is a great stir
in the room next to mine. Little Paul, half-undressed, is rushing
about, jumping and stamping, knocking the chairs over like a mad thing.
I hear him call me:
“Come, quick!” he screams. “Come and see these Moths, big as birds! The
room is full of them!”
I hurry in. The child has not exaggerated very much. The room is full
of giant Moths. Four are already caught and lodged in a bird-cage. Many
others are fluttering on the ceiling.
At this sight, I remember my prisoner of the morning.
“Put on your things, laddie,” I say to my son. “Leave your cage and
come with me. We shall see something interesting.”
We run downstairs to go to my study, which is in the right wing of the
house. In the kitchen I find the servant, who is also bewildered by
what is happening and stands flicking her apron at great Moths whom
she took at first for Bats. It seems that the Great Peacock has taken
possession of pretty nearly every part of the house.
We enter my study, candle in hand. One of the windows had been left
open, and what we see is unforgetable. With a soft flick-flack the
great Moths fly around the bell-jar, alight, set off again, come back,
fly up to the ceiling and down. They rush at the candle, putting it out
with a stroke of their wings; they descend on our shoulders, clinging
to our clothes, grazing our faces. The scene suggests a wizard’s cave,
with its whirl of Bats. Little Paul holds my hand tighter than usual,
to keep up his courage.
How many are there? About twenty in this room. Add to these the number
who have strayed into the other parts of the house, and the total
cannot be much short of forty. Forty lovers, who have come to pay their
respects to the bride born that morning—the princess imprisoned in her
tower!
Every night that week the Moths come to court their princess. It is
stormy weather, so dark one can hardly see one’s hand before one’s
face. Our house is difficult for them to reach. It is hidden by tall
plane-trees, pines, and cypresses; clusters of bushy shrubs make a
rampart a few steps away from the door. It is through this tangle, in
complete darkness, that the Great Peacock has to tack about to reach
his lady.
Under such conditions the Brown Owl would not dare leave the hole in
his tree. Yet the Moth goes forward without hesitating and passes
through without knocking against things. He steers his way so
skillfully that he arrives in a state of perfect freshness, with his
big wings unharmed, with not a scratch upon him. The darkness is light
enough for him.
With a view to his wedding, the one and only object of his life, the
Great Peacock is gifted with a wonderful talent. He is able to discover
the object of his desire in spite of distance, obstacles, and darkness.
For two or three evenings he is allowed a few hours to find his mate.
If he cannot find her, all is over. He dies.
The Great Peacock knows nothing of eating. While so many other Moths,
jolly companions one and all, flit from flower to flower, dipping into
the honeyed cups, he never thinks of refreshment. No wonder he does not
live long. Two or three evenings, just time enough to allow the couple
to meet, and that is all; the big Moth has lived.
[Illustration]