Nevertheless the sawlike tibia slips out of its long, narrow case without catching in it at any point whatever. If I had not seen this happen over and over again, I could never have believed it: the discarded legging is quite intact all the way down. Neither the terminal spurs nor the two rows of spikes have caught in the delicate mould. The saw has respected the dainty scabbard which a puff of my breath is enough to tear; the formidable rake has slipped through without leaving the least scratch behind it. I was far from expecting such a result as this. Because of the spiked armour, I imagined that the leg would strip in scales which came loose of themselves or yielded to rubbing, like dead cuticle. How greatly did the reality exceed my expectations! From the spurs and spikes of the infinitely thin matrix there emerge spurs and spikes that make the leg capable of cutting soft wood. This is done without violence or the least inconvenience; and the discarded garment remains where it is, hanging by the claws to the top of the cage, uncreased and untorn. The magnifying-glass shows not a trace of rough usage. As the thing was before the excoriation, so it remains afterwards. The legging of dead skin continues, down to the pettiest details, an exact replica of the live leg. If any one suggested that we should extract a saw from some sort of goldbeater’s-skin sheath which had been exactly moulded on the steel and that we should perform the operation without producing the least tear, we should burst out laughing: the thing is so flagrantly impossible. Life makes light of these impossibilities; it has methods of realizing the absurd, in case of need. And the Locust’s leg tells us so. If the saw of the shin were as hard as it is once it leaves its sheath, it would absolutely refuse to come out without tearing to pieces the tight-fitting scabbard. The difficulty therefore is evaded, for it is essential that the leggings, which form the only suspension-cords, should remain intact in order to furnish a firm support until the deliverance is completed. The leg in process of liberation is not a limb fit for walking; it has not the rigidity which it will presently possess. It is soft and highly flexible. In the portion which the progress of the moult exposes to view, I see it bending and curving as I wish, under the mere influence of its own weight, when I lift the cage. It is as supple as elastic cord. And yet consolidation follows very rapidly, for the proper stiffness will be acquired in a few minutes. Farther on, in the part hidden from me by the sheath, the leg is certainly softer and in a state of exquisite plasticity—I was almost saying fluidity—which allows it to overcome difficult passages almost as a liquid would flow.