With the advent of the young locusts about six weeks later the real troubles of the farmer have begun, and matters begin to wear a serious aspect. The little gaudy-coloured creatures, with their yellow, green and black bodies and red legs, are shaped very much like grasshoppers. They cannot yet fly, and for that reason remain as the guests of the landowner for several weeks while they are awaiting their final development. They pass slowly along, jumping in grasshopper fashion from stem to stem, or leaf to leaf. They cling in clusters to each leaf and stem like a devouring army, and stay there until it is absolutely bare. The extent of the damage which they are able to inflict can be seen by inspecting a corn field after their visit. The transformation is as marvellous as it is tragic. Every shred of the rich, luxuriant leaves and tassels has disappeared, and only the thin, bare stalks, shivering and desolate, remain. Even the houses will be invaded by these unpleasant creatures (beasts, the Englishman would say), and to say that they are unwelcome but mildly expresses the real feeling of the farmer who sees the fruit of his toil thus disappearing before the hordes with insatiable appetites. The only vegetable growth that will not be touched, except as a last resort, is the Paraiso tree. They will eat everything else first, and only fall back upon the leaves and bark of this tree when all other food has failed. In about six weeks the wings have developed and the “hoppers” become “fliers.” Their bodies have waxed fatter, but their colouring has become sobered. Then flights will again become noticeable. A swarm will sometimes resemble a vast smoke-cloud from a burning city or straw stack. They will oftentimes settle on the boughs of limbs in such quantities as to cause the limbs to bend and crack beneath their weight. Carriages, trucks and the fronts of locomotives will be thickly coated with the fragments of the bodies of the insects, which they have killed. In such armies, where numbers are countless, casualties go for nothing. A trifling loss of a few thousand or a few millions is only a drop in the ocean. You might as well try to stop a cloud passing across the sky by shooting at it as a swarm of these insects.