THE LANGUEDOCIAN SCORPION: THE PAIRING

The Life of the Scorpion by Jean-Henri Fabre, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . THE LANGUEDOCIAN SCORPION: THE PAIRING CHAPTER VI. THE LANGUEDOCIAN SCORPION: THE PAIRING June sets in. For fear of a disturbance caused by too brilliant an illumination, I have hitherto kept the lantern hung outside, at some distance from the pane. The insufficient light does not allow me to observe certain details of the manner in which the couple are linked when strolling. Do they both play an active part in the scheme of the clasped hands? Are their fingers mutually interlinked? Or is only one of the pair active; and, if so, which? Let us ascertain exactly; the thing is not without importance. I place the lantern inside, in the centre of the cage. There is good light everywhere. Far from being scared, the Scorpions are gayer than ever. They come hurrying round the beacon; some even try to climb up, so as to be nearer the flame. They succeed in doing so by means of the framework containing the glass panes. They hang on to [ ]the edges of the tin strips and stubbornly, heedless of slipping, end by reaching the top. There, motionless, lying partly on the glass, partly on the support of the metal casing, they gaze the whole evening long, fascinated by the burning wick. They remind me of the Great Peacock Moths that used to hang in ecstasy under the reflector of my lamp. 135 1 At the foot of the beacon, in the full light, a couple lose no time in standing on their heads. The two fence prettily with their tails and then go a strolling. The male alone acts. With the two fingers of each claw, he has seized the two fingers of the corresponding claw of the Scorpioness bundled together. He alone exerts himself and squeezes; he alone is at liberty to break the team when he likes: he has but to open his pincers. The female cannot do this; she is a prisoner, handcuffed by her ravisher. In rather infrequent cases, one may see even more remarkable things. I have caught the Scorpion dragging his sweetheart along by the two fore-arms; I have seen him pull her by one leg and the tail. She had [ ]resisted the advances of the outstretched hand; and the bully, forgetful of all reserve, had thrown her on her side and clawed hold of her at random. The thing is quite clear: we have to do with a regular rape, abduction with violence. Even so did Romulus’ youths rape the Sabine women. 136 The brutal ravisher is singularly persistent in his feats of prowess, when we remember that things end tragically sooner or later. The ritual demands that he shall be eaten after the wedding. What a strange world, in which the victim drags the sacrificer by main force to the altar! From one evening to the next, I become aware that the more corpulent females in my menagerie hardly ever take part in the sport of the linked team; it is nearly always the young, slim-waisted ones to whom the ardent strollers pay their addresses. They must have sprightly flappers. True, there are moments when they have interviews with the others, accompanied by strokes of the tail and attempts at harnessing; but these are brief displays, devoid of any great fervour. No sooner is she seized by the fingers than the portly temptress, with a [ ]blow of her tail, rebukes the untimely familiarity. The rejected suitor retires from the contest without insisting further. They go their several ways. 137 The big-bellied ones are therefore elderly matrons, indifferent nowadays to the effusive manners of the pairing-season. This time last year and perhaps even before, they had their own good spell; and that is enough for them henceforth. The female Scorpion’s period of gestation is consequently extraordinarily long, longer than will be often found even among animals of a higher order. It takes her a year or more to mature her germs. Let us return to the couple whom we have just seen forming up beneath the lantern. I inspect them at six o’clock the next morning. They are under the tile linked precisely as though for a stroll, that is to say, face to face and with clasped fingers. While I watch them, a second pair forms and begins to wander to and fro. The early hour of the expedition surprises me: I had never seen such an incident in broad daylight and was seldom to see it again. As a rule it is at nightfall that the Scorpions [ ]go strolling in couples. Whence this hurry to-day? 138 I seem to catch a glimpse of the reason. It is stormy weather; in the afternoon, there is incessant, very mild thunder. St. Mèdard, whose feast fell yesterday, is opening his flood-gates wide; it pours all night. The great electric tension and the smell of ozone have stirred up the sleepy hermits, who, nervously irritated, for the most part come to the threshold of their cells, stretching their questioning claws outside and enquiring into the condition of things. Two, more violently excited than the others, have come out, influenced by the intoxication of the pairing which is enhanced by the intoxication of the storm; they suited each other; and here they are solemnly marching to the sound of the thunder-claps. They pass before open huts and try to go in. The owner objects. He appears in the doorway, shaking his fists, and his action seems to say: “Go somewhere else; this place is taken.” They go away. They meet with the same refusal at other doors, the same threats from the occupant. At last, for want of anything [ ]better, they make their way under the tile where the first couple have been lodging since the day before. 139 The cohabitation entails no quarrelling; the first settlers and the newcomers, side by side, keep very quiet, each couple absorbed in meditation, completely motionless, with fingers still clasped. And this goes on all day. At five o’clock in the evening, the couples separate. Anxious apparently to take part in the usual twilight rejoicings, the males leave the shelter; the females, on the other hand, remain under the tile. Nothing, so far as I know, has happened during the long interview, nothing despite the stimulating effects of the thunderstorm. This fourfold occupation of one dwelling is not an isolated instance: groups, regardless of sex, are not infrequent under the potsherds in the glass cage. I have already said that, in their original homes, I have never found two Scorpions under one stone. We must not infer from this that unsociable habits prohibit all intercourse among neighbours; we should be making a mistake: the glazed enclosure tells us so. There are cabins in more than sufficient numbers; each [ ]Scorpion would be able to choose himself a dwelling and thenceforth to occupy it as the jealous owner. Nothing of the kind takes place. Once the nocturnal excitement sets in, there is no such thing as a home respected by others. Everything is common property. Whoever wishes to slip under the first tile that offers does so without protest from the occupant. The Scorpions go abroad, walk about and enter any house they may chance upon. In this way, when the twilight diversions are over, groups of three, four, or sometimes more are formed without distinction of sex and, packed pretty closely in the narrow home, spend the rest of the night and the whole of the following day together. For that matter, theirs is only a temporary shanty, which is exchanged next evening for another, according to the strollers’ fancy. And these roving gipsies live quite peaceably. There is never any serious strife between them, even when they are five or six in the same messroom. 140 Now this tolerance prevails only in the adults, due, no doubt, to some degree, to the fear of reprisals. There is another and more imperative reason for peaceful relations: [ ]concord is a necessity in assemblies at which the future is being prepared. The Scorpions’ characters therefore become assuaged, but not entirely: there are always perverse appetites among the females who are about to enter upon the period of gestation. 141 I have always present in my mind the memory of the following odious spectacles. A heedless male, who has attained hardly a third or a fourth of his final size, is passing, unthinking, of evil, before the door of a dwelling. The fat matron comes out, accosts the poor wretch, picks him up in her claws, kills him with her sting and then quietly eats him. Scorpion lads and lasses, the one sooner, the other later, perish in the same manner in the glass cage. I scruple to replace the deceased: it would be providing fresh food for the slaughter. There were a dozen of them; and in a few days I have not one left. Without the excuse of hunger, for the regular victuals are plentiful, the females have devoured them all. Youth is certainly a beautiful thing, but it has terrible drawbacks in the society of these ogresses.[ ] 142 I would gladly ascribe these massacres to the peculiar cravings often provoked by pregnancy. The future mother is suspicious and intolerant; to her everything is an enemy, to be got rid of by eating it, when strength permits. And indeed, when the quickly emancipated family is born, in the middle of August, a profound peace reigns in the menagerie. My vigilance is unable to surprise a single case of these outbreaks of cannibalism which used to occur so often. On the other hand, the males, indifferent to the safety of the family, know nothing of these tragic frenzies. They are peaceful creatures, blunt in their manners, but in any event incapable of ripping up their fellows. We never see two rivals disputing in mortal combat, for the possession of the coveted bride. Things happen, if not mildly, at least without blows of the dagger. Two suitors come upon the same Scorpioness. Which of the two will propose to her and take her for a walk? The point will be decided by strength of wrist. Each takes the beauty by the hand nearest to him with the fingers of one claw. One standing on the right, the other on the left, [ ]they pull with all their might in opposite directions. The legs, braced backwards, exert a powerful leverage; the flanks quiver; the tails sway to and fro and suddenly dart forward. Now for it! They tug at the Scorpioness by fits and starts with sudden backward runs; it is as though they meant to pull her in two and each to carry off a piece. A declaration of love implies a threat to rend her asunder. 143 On the other hand, there is no direct exchange of fisticuffs between them, not even a back-hander with the tail. Only the victim is ill-treated and roughly at that. To see these lunatics struggling, you would think that their arms would be torn out. Nevertheless, there are no dislocations. Weary of an ineffectual contest, the two competitors at last take each other by the hands that remain at liberty: they form a chain of three and resume the process of jerking and tugging more violently than ever. Each of them bustles to and fro, advances, recoils and pulls his hardest till he is exhausted. Suddenly, the more fatigued of the two throws up the sponge and runs away, leaving his adversary in possession of the [ ]object of their passions so vehemently disputed. Then, with his free claw, the victor completes the team and the stroll begins. As for the vanquished, we will not trouble about him: he will soon have found something in the crowd to make amends for his confusion. 144 I will give you another instance of these meek encounters between rivals. A couple are walking along. The male is of medium size, but nevertheless very eager at the game. When his companion refuses to advance, he pulls at her with jerks which send shudders along his spine. A second male, larger than the first, appears upon the scene. The lady takes his fancy; he desires her. Will he abuse his strength, fling himself on the little chap, beat him, perhaps stab him? By no means. Among Scorpions these delicate matters are not decided by force of arms. The burly fellow leaves the dwarf alone. He goes straight to the coveted fair and seizes her by the tail. Then the two vie with each other in pulling, one in front, the other behind. A brief contest follows, leaving each of them the master of a claw. With frantic violence, one works on the [ ]right, the other on the left, as though they wished to pull the dame to pieces. At length the smaller realizes that he is beaten; he lets go and makes off. The big one lays hold of the abandoned prey; and the team takes the road without further incident. 145 Thus, evening after evening, for four months, from the end of April to the beginning of September, the preludes to the pairing are indefatigably repeated. The scorching dog-days do not calm these unruly lovers; on the contrary, they inflame them with new ardour. In the spring, I used to surprise the pilgrims’ tandems singly, at long intervals; in July I observe them by threes and fours at a time, on the same evening. I take the opportunity, with not much success, to enquire what goes on under the tiles where the strolling couples take refuge; my wish is to see the details of the tender interview from start to finish. It does me no good to turn over the potsherd, even during the quiet hours of the night. I have tried often and in vain. When deprived of their roof, the linked couples resume their ramble and make for another shelter, where the impossibility of prolonged observation [ ]obtains once more. Special circumstances, independent of any intervention on our part, are needed to make the delicate undertaking succeed. 146 To-day these circumstances are present. At seven o’clock in the morning, on the 3rd of July, a couple attracts my attention, a couple whom I saw forming, walking about and selecting a home on the previous evening. The male is under the tile, quite invisible save for the tips of his claws. The cabin was too small to shelter the two. He went in; she, with her mighty paunch, remained outside, clutched by the fingers by her companion. The tail, curved into a wide arc, is bent slackly to one side, with the point of the sting resting on the ground. The eight legs, firmly planted, are drawn backwards, marking a tendency to escape. The whole body is completely motionless. I inspect the fat Scorpioness twenty times in the course of the day, without perceiving the least movement of the hinder part, the least change in the attitude, the least flexion in the curve of the tail. The animal could be no more lifeless if turned to stone.[ ] 147 The male, on his side, is no more active. Though I cannot see him, I at least observe his fingers, which would tell me of any change of posture. And this petrified condition, which has lasted for the best part of the night, persists all day, until eight o’clock in the evening. What do they feel, facing each other thus? What are they doing, motionless with clasped fingers? If the expression were allowable, I should say that they are meditating profoundly. It is the only term that more or less represents what I see. But no human language could have words fit to convey the bliss, the ecstasy of the Scorpions thus coupled by the finger-tips. Let us remain silent upon that which we cannot possibly understand. A little before eight o’clock, when the animation outside the house is already approaching its height, the female suddenly moves; she struggles and, with an effort, contrives to release herself. She flees, with one of the pincers bent back towards her and the other stretched out. To break her seductive bonds, she pulled with such violence that she put one of her shoulders out of joint. She flees, feeling her way with the [ ]uninjured claw. The male runs off too. All is over for this evening. 148 These rambles in pairs, which are customary in the evening all through the summer, are evidently the preliminaries to more serious affairs. The strollers inspect each other, display their graces, show off their qualities before coming to conclusions. But when does the decisive moment arrive? My patience is exhausted in waiting for it; I vainly prolong my vigils and turn over potsherd after potsherd, in my anxiety at last to know the exact part played by the combs; my hopes remain unfulfilled. It is at a very late hour in the night that the marriage is consummated: of that I have no doubt whatever. If I had any chance of arriving at the right moment, I would struggle against sleep till break of day: my old eyelids are still capable of doing so when the acquisition of an idea is at stake. But how hazardous my perseverance would be! I am very well aware, having seen it over and over again, that, in the vast majority of cases, we find the couple next morning, under the tile, harnessed together just as [ ]they were on the evening before. To succeed, I should have to upset the habits of a lifetime and lie in wait every night for three or four months on end. The plan is beyond my strength: and I give it up. 149 Once only did I obtain an inkling of the solution of the problem. At the moment when I lift the stone, the male is turning over without releasing the clasp of his hands; with his belly upturned, he slowly slides backwards under his mate. Even so does the Cricket behave when his pleadings at last obtain a hearing. In this posture, the couple would only have to steady themselves, probably with the teeth of their combs, to achieve their ends. But, startled by the violation of their home, the superimposed twain separate then and there. From the little that I have seen, it seems likely, therefore, that the Scorpions end their mating in an attitude similar to that of the Crickets. In addition they have their hands clasped and their combs interlocked. 2 I am better informed of subsequent events within the cell. Let us mark the tiles under [ ]which the couples take refuge in the evening, after their stroll. What do we find next morning? As a rule, precisely the same linked couple as the day before, face to face, with fingers united. 150 Sometimes the female is alone. The male, having finished his business, has found means to release himself and go away. He had grave reasons for cutting short the transports of the alcove. Especially in May, the time of the most ardent enjoyment, I often indeed find the female nibbling and relishing her deceased mate. Who committed the murder? The Scorpioness, evidently. These are the atrocious customs of the Praying Mantis: the lover is stabbed and then eaten, if he does not retire in time. By the exercise of nimbleness and decision, he can do so sometimes, not always. He is able to release his hands, for it is his that squeeze; by lifting his thumbs, he unclasps them. But there remains the diabolical little mechanism of the combs, an apparatus of sensual pleasure, now a trap. On both sides the long teeth of this interlocking gear, closely fitting and perhaps [ ]spasmodically contracted, refuse to come apart as promptly as could be wished. The poor fellow is lost. 3 151 He has a poisoned dagger similar to that which threatens him: can he, does he know how to defend himself? It seems as though he cannot, for he is always the victim. It is possible that his reversed posture hinders him in wielding his tail, which he must curve over his back if he wishes to bring it into play. Perhaps also an insuperable instinct prevents him from putting the future mother to death. He allows himself to be pinked by the terrible bride; he perishes without defence. The widow forthwith begins to eat him. It is a part of the ritual, as with the Spiders, who, deprived of the Scorpion’s fatal engine, at least leave the males time to escape if they are prompt enough in forming a decision. The funeral repast, though frequent, is not indispensable; whether the male is devoured depends a little on the condition of the female’s stomach. I have seen some who, despising the nuptial morsel, frugally swallowed the head of the deceased and [ ]then flung the corpse outside, without touching it again. I have seen these furies carry their dead husband at arm’s length, dragging him about the whole morning, in sight of all, like a trophy, and then, without further ceremony, leaving him untouched and abandoning him to those eager dissectors, the Ants. 152 About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jean-Henri Fabre (2021). The Life of the Scorpion. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/66744/pg66744-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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