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1653 Za%{ Main SIreel

Rochester, Ne» York 14609 USA

(716) 482 -0300 -Phone

(716) 288 - 5989 - Fox

'^S^i^^i^'i^.

THE LIFE OF THE
CATERPILLAR

BOOKS BY J. HENRI FABRR

THE LIFE OF THE SPIDER

THE LIFE OF THE FLY

THE ?IASON-BEES

BRAMBLE-BEES AND OTHERS

THE HUNTING WASPS

THE LIFE OF THE CATERPILLAR

i

Lt; i\

rtyT'wl ?i

mmifmsti^r

e ii ;

THE LIFF OF THE
CATERPILLAR

A

>

HY

J. HENRI FABRE

^2

■■-^

„i il

^;^:S^

translated 3y
Alexander Thixeira de Mattos

flLLO* OF THE ZOOtOCICAl lOClBTt OF lONDOH

Ci

k

TORONTO

McClelland, goodchild & stewart

LIMITED

kA

h

i

// /XT; S

^J^W

w ^ ^S?WS^1PWqPSE

C^. L i H H

eemtoHT, 191'

•V DODD, MIAO AND COMPAHV, IMC.

MADE IN U. S. A.

CONTENTS

translator's notk

CHAFTK*

I T|! FINK PROCKSSIONARY:
ING TFII- KGGS

II THE PINK PROCKSSIONARY:
NKST; THK COMMUNITY

III THK PINK PROCKSSIONARY:

PROCKSSION

IV THK iMNK PROCKSSIONARY:

TKOROLOGY

PAoa

V THK PINK PROCKSSIONARY:
MOTH .

VI THK PINK PROCE SIONARY:
STINGING POW

' • •

Vn THK ARBUTUS CA iKRPILLAR
VHI AN INSKCT VIRUS
IX THE PSYCHES: THK LAYING
X THE PSYCHES: THK (ASKS
XI THE GREAT PEACOCK

5

LAV
THE

• •

THE

• •

ME-
THE
THE

9

27

56

90

III

128
150
161
186
217
246

Contents

CHAFTEH

XII THE BANDED MONK .

XIII THE SENSE OF SMELL .

XIV THE CABBAGE-CATERPILLAR
INDEX

PAOK
300

373

■■'J . ,l»'.«'iV""Taj*e--*'*L».aHMlf .

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE

nnHIS the sixth volume of the Collected

Wnrtc P r u .^•'^'■^'^ Entomological
Works m Engl.sh, is the first that I am pre-
parmg for publication since the author's
death on the nth of October, 1915 at an
exceedmgly advanced age. It c;ntains all the
essays, fourteen in number, which he wrote
on^Butterfl.es and Moths, or their catTrpIl!

Three of these, the chapters entitled The
Great Peacock, The Banded Monk and The
W 0/5..// are included under the title
of The Great Peacock, The Oak Eggar and

a volume of miscellaneous extracts from the
Souvemrsentomologiques translated by Mr.
Bernard Mia^l and published by the Cen ury

foetal Life m the Insect JForld; and I
strongly recommend it to the readei if only
because of the excellent photographs from
nature with which it is illustrated

Chapter III. of the present volume, The
Pine Processtonary: the Procession, has ap-

\ TT ',?•/ -v ..«;.. ■ « .i».- ■ mr- -z

Translator's Note

peared in the Fortnightly Review; and Chap-
ter XIV., The Cabbage Caterpillar, the last
essay but one from the author's pen, written,
I believe, within two or three years of his
death, was first printed in the Century Maga-
zine, some time before its publication in the
original. It does not form part of the Sou-
venirs entomologiques. The remaining es-
savs are new in their English guise.

"Once more I wish to record my gratitude
to Miss Frances Rodwell for the faithful as-
sistance which she has lent me in the prepara-
tion of this volume, as in that of all the earlier
volumes of the series.

Alexander Teixeira de Mattos.

Chelsea, 1916.

8

CHAPTER I

THE PINE PROCESSIONARY: THE EGGS
AND THE HATCHING

q^HIS caterpillar has already had his story
^ told by Reaumur/ but it was a story
marked by gaps. These were inevitable in
the conditions under which the great man
worked, for he had to receive all his mate-
rials by barge from the distant Bordeaux
l^andes. The transplanted insect could not be
expected to furnish its biographer with other
than fragmentary evidence, very weak in those
biological details which form the principal
charm of entomology. To study the habits
of insects one must observe them long and
closely on their native heath, so to speak, in
the place where their instincts have full and
natural play.

With caterpillars foreign to the Paris cli-
mate and brought from the other end of
1^ ranee, Reaumur therefore ran the risk of

sam.

The Life of the Caterpillar

missing many most interesting facts. This Is
what actually happened, just as It did on a
later occasion in the case of another alien, the
Cinda.* Nevertheless, the information which
he was able to extract from a few nests sent
to him from the Landes is of the highest
value.

Better served than he by circumstances, I
will take up afresh the story of the Proces-
sionary Caterpillar of the Pine. If the subject
does not come up to my hopes, it will certainly
not be for lack of materials. In my harmas^
laboratory, now stocked with a few trees in
addition to its bushes, stand some vigorous
fir-trees, the Aleppo pine and the black Aus-
trian pine, a substitute for that of the Landes.
Every year the caterpillar takes possession of
them and spins his great purses in their
branches. In the interest of the leaves, which
are horribly ravaged, as though there had
been a fire, I am obliged each winter to make

*For the Cicada or Cigalc, an insect remotely akin
to the Grasshopper and found more particularly in the
south of France, cf. Social Life in the Insect World, by
J. H. Fabre, translated by Bernard Miall : chaps, i to iv.
— Translator's Note.

-The harmas was the enclosed piece of waste ground
in which the author used to study his insects in their
natural state. — Translator's Note.

10

^fsivi;-^'^'.-

The Processionary: the Eggs

a strict survey and to extirpate the nests with
a long forked batten.

You voracious little creatures, if I let you
have your way, I should soon be robbed of
the murmur of my once so leafy pines I To-
day I will seek compensation for all the
trouble I have taken. Let us make a com-
pact You have a story to tell. Tell it me;
and for a year, for two years or longer, until
1 know more or less all about it, I shall leave
you undisturbed, even at the cost of lament-
able suffenng to the pines.

Having concluded the treaty and left the
caterp.l ars m peace, I soon have abundant
material for my observations. In return for
my indulgence I get some thirty nests within
a few steps of my door. If the collection
were not arge enough, the pine-trees in the
neighbourhood would supply me with any
necessary additions. But I have a preference
and a decided preference for the population
of my own enclosure, whose nocturnal habits
are much easier to observe by lantem-light.
With such treasures daily before my eyes, at
any time that I wish and under natural ron-
ditions, I cannot fail to see the Processir v's
story unfolded at full length. Let us . y.

II

■ !^K^'' -"JW^Ji^ffi

The Life of the Caterpillar

And first of all the egg, which Reaumur
did not see. In the first fortnight of August,
let us inspect the lower branches of the pines,
on a level with our eyes. If we pay the least
attention, we soon discover, here and there,
on the foliage, certain little whitish cylinders
spotting the dark green. Thesp are the
Bombyx' eggs : each cylinder is the cluster laid
by one mother.

The pine-needles are grouped in twos.
Each pair is wrapped at its base in a cylindri-
cal muff which measures about an inch long
by a fifth or sixth of an inch wide. This
muff, which has a silky appearance and is
white slightly tinted with ruSset, is covered
with scales that overlap after the manner of
the tiles on a roof; and yet their arrange-
ment, though fairly regular, is by no means
geometrical. The general aspect is more or
less that of an immature walnut-catkin.

The scales are almost oval in form, semi-
transparent and white, with a touch of brown
at the base and of russet at the tip. They
are free at the lower end, which tapers
slightly, but firmly fixed at the upper end,
which is wide, and bUmter. You cannot de-
tach them either by blowing on them or by

12

K" mm^k.^u

The Processionary: the E'

?gs

rubbmg them repeatedly with a hair-pencil.
They stand up, hke a fleece stroked the wrong
way. .f the sheath is rubbed gently upwards
and retam th.s bristling posidon indefinitely !

tetTn' -' f «'"^^ "rangement whJn

he fnction is .n the opposite direction. At

the same time, they are as soft as velvet to

eggs. It IS impossible for a drop of rain

tiles '''"""'' ""^'^ '*^'' '*^^^^^^ °^ so^t

c.l7^'/"^'".°^ ^**''' defensive covering i,
self-evident: the mother has stripped a pan

F der'/l"^^ i° r°*^^^ ^^'' «gg^ Like the
Eider-duck, she has made a warm overcoat

for them out of her own down. Reaumur

had already suspected as much from a very

curious peculiarity cf the Moth. Let J

quote the passage:

DatJ^n Ir'^"'" '^^ '^y^ "^»^= » shiny
patch on the upper part of their body, near

the hind-quarters. The shape nd .fcss of

this disk attracted my attention :he fim" me

touched •; / ""'' '^^^^'"S ' P'"' -'^h which
1 touched It, to examine its structure. The

«3

■i^m^ '-w''-"

The Life of the Caterpillar

contact of the pin produced a little spectacle
that surprised me: I saw a cloud of tiny
spangles at once detach themselves. These
spangles scattered in every direction: some
seemed to be shot into the air, others to the
sides; but the greater part of the cloud fell
softly to the ground.

"Each o. those bodies which I am calling
spangles is an extremely slender lamina, bear-
ing some resemblance to the atoms of dust
on the Moths' wings, bu^ of course much big-
ger. ... The disk that is so no iceable on
the hind-quarters of these Moths is there-

fore a heap — and an enormous heap of

these scales. . . . The females seem to use
them to wrap their eggs in; but the Moths of
the Pine Caterpillar refused to lay while in my
charge and consequently did not enlighten me
as to whether they use the scales to cover
their eggs or as to what they are doing with
all those scales gathered round their hinder
part, which were not given them and placed
in that position to serve no purpose."

You were right, my learned master: that
dense and regular crop of spangles did not
grow on the Moth's tail for nothing. Is

14

^^':vi

i'^vtSBOJ

The Processionary; the Eggs

there anything that has no object? You did
not th.nk so,. I do not think so either. Every
thing has .ts reason for existing. Yes you
were we.Hnspircd when you foresaw that the
cloud of scales which flew out under the po n
of your p.n must serve to protect the e Js
remove the scaly fleece with my pincers

like' little "r-f^' '^\'''^' appear Poking
1 ke httle white-enamel heads. Clusterin-r

losely together, they make nine longitudin 1
''ve .ggs. As the nine rows are very near y

all to ± TTV^^' ^^'''-'- ^--n n

famUv for ' '''"^'?^ '^^'> ^ respectable

ramuy tor one motiier'

exactly w,th those in the two adioinine files
so as to leave no empty spaces. They 1^
gest a p.ece of bead-work produced wi^h ex
qu,s,te dexterity by patient fingers. iTwo^^J
a cob nf T T" "'" '° "'"P"'^ 'hem with
seed, h / '" ?■■"' "■'"' ''^ ""' ■•'>»■=' of
of who "h' ^"■''^^ '■"^r'' "'^' "-^ 'i"i"«s

pre sion JT""' "'"''" '"' -""hematical
precision all the more remarkable Th,

grains of the iVIoth's spike have a slight tend!

ency to be hexagonal, because of theh- mu-

IS

-Rifv:.:

Ill

k»-:"i

n

The Life of the Caterpillar

tual pressure; they are stuck close together,
so much so that they cannot be separated. If
force is used, the layer comes off the leaf
in fragments, in small cakes always consisting
of several eggs apiece. The beads laid are
therefore fastened together by a glutinous
varnish; and it is on this varnish that the
broad base of the defensive scales is fixed.

It would be interesting, if a favourable
opportunity occurred, to see how the mother
achieves that beautifully regular arrangeme.it
of the eggs and also how, as soon as she has
laid one, all sticky with varnish, she makes a
roof for it with a few scales removed one
by on^ from her hind-quarters. For the
moment, the very structure of the finirhed
work tells us the course of the procedure. It
is evident that the eggs are not laid in longi-
tudinal files, but in circular rows, in rings,
which lie one above the other, alternating
their grains. The laying begins at the bot-
tom, near the lower «;nd of the double pine-
leaf; it finishes at the top. The first eggs in
order of date are those of the bottom ring;
the last are those of the top ring. The ar-
rangement of the scales, all in a longitudinal
direction and attached by the end facing the

i6

11

The Proccssionaryj the Eggs

top of the leaf makes any other method of
progression madmissible.

Let us consider in the hght of reflection
the el^qant edifice now before our eyes,
loung or old, cultured or ignorant, we shall
a J, on seemg the Bombyx' pretty little spike,
exclaim: ^

"How handsome!"

And what will strike us most will be not
the beautiful enamel pearls, but the way i
which they are put together with such geome-
trical regularity. Whence wc can draw a great
rnoral, to wit, that an exquisite order governs
the work of a creature without consciousness,
one of the humblest of the hu-ible. A paltry
Moth follows the harmonious laws of order
If Micromegas' took it into his head to
leave Sinus once more and visit our planet,
would he find anything to admire among us?
Voltaire shows him to us using one of the
diamonds of his necklace as a magnifying-
glass in order to obtain some sort of view of

17

1

The Life of the Caterpillar

with the crew. A nail-paring, curved like a
horn, encompasses the ship and serves as a
spcalcing-trumpet; a looth-pick, which touches
the vessel with its tapering end and the lips
of the giant, some thousand fathoms above,
with the other, serves as a telephone. The
outcome of the famous dialogue is that, if wc
would form a sound judgment of thingj and
see them under fresh aspects, there is nothing
like changing one's planet.

The probability then is that the Sirian
would have had a rather poor notion of our
artistic beauties. To hi;u our masterp-eces
of statuary, even though sprur from the
chistl of a Phidias, would be mere dolls of
marble or bronze, hardly more worthy of in-
terest than the children's rubber dolls are to
us; our landscape-paintings would be re-
garded as dishes of spinach smelling unpleas-
antly of oil; our opera-scores would be de-
scribed as very expensive noises.

These things, belonging to the domain of
the senses, possess a relative aesthetic value,
subordinated to the organism that judges
them. Certainly the Venus of Melos and the
Apollo Belvedere are superb works; but even
so it takes a special eye to appreciate them.

i8

mL''Miisrii^mmmEg^m^^mmim^\';MW'i<mi;^^

The Processionary: the Eggs

angled triangle. ShrmM fh? . • '''''''"•
trary to our exn^.?, l *''"'"' 8'"'' ™n-

abou, it, exniafn M h"' """IP'" "°' '" '<"<'«'
mean,. bnceX l-T "''" ""^ "^"'1'""'
h« will find" ust a, w d^!.";^^'' ••'» """J.
there, real beautv 1. ' "''','''"= '» beauty

'|hie'hiep;;;:^rcrt>5!''"-

three'sidesVh';: ■ dlvTaf J^i?"-' "' t
geome,^, he eternal bTa^er of 1=7' ''°

^arT^un^Berr-"™ "" -^^
red, blue or yellow Th ! °''"'"^.' »'■"= "
order. Every wl ■ j' ""T'"' ^""'V "
measure, a Trea? L"^""' ''>' "■^■'S'" »"J
breaks ^pon Ta , ,t '"' ^'""' "•""'

probe more deeolv n n ,1,"""'' ""'">" '' "^
ore aeeply ,nto the mystery of things

19

The Life of the Caterpillar

Is this order, upon which the equilibrium of
the universe is based, the predestined result
of a blind mechanism? Does it enter into
the plans of an Eternal Geometer, as Plato
had it? Is it the ideal of a supreme lover of
beauty, which would explain everything?

Why all this regularity in the curve of the
petals of a flower, why all this elegance in
the chasings on a Beetle's wing-cases? Is that
infinite grace, even in the tiniest details, com-
patible with the brutality of uncontrolled
forces? One might as well attribute the
artist's exquisite medallion to the steam-
hammer which makes the slag sweat in the
melting.

These are very lofty thoughts concerning a
miserable cylinder which will bear a crop of
caterpillars. It cannot be helped. The mo-
ment one tries to dig out the least detail of
things, up starts a why which scientific inves-
tigation is unable to answer. The riddle of
the world has certainly its explanation other-
where than in the little truths of our labora-
tories. But let us leave Micromegas to phi-
losophize and return to the commonplaces of
observation.

The Pine Bombyx has rivals in the art of

20

The Proccssionary; the Eggs

gracefully grouping her egg-beads. Among

he,r number ,s the Neustrian Bombyx, whose

caterpillar ,s known by the name of "Liverv "

sembTed in f 7'""" "^^ '^^' "^ -
sembled m bracelets around little branches

varymg greatly in nature, apple- and pear-

branches chiefly. Any one seeing this elegant

work for the first time would he ready "o

nf K i' '\'? '^' ^"^^" °^ ^ skilled stringer
of beads. My small son Paul opens eyes wide
with surprise and utters an astonished "Oh!"

unnn ?' 7 • ^'""'y °^ °'^^^ ^o^'^es itself
upon his dawning attention.

Though not so long and marked above all

the Neustrian Bombyx reminds one of the
other s cylinder, stripped of its scaly covering
It woMld be easy to multiply these instances
ot elegant grouping, contrived now in one
way, now m another, but always with consum-
mate art. It would take up too much tim^.

rhe hatching takes place in September, a

anothe? rr r '^''^ ' ^'"^^ J^ter in
born . ; u^"'-^ ^y '''^y ^^^^h the new-
born caterpillars m their first labours. I have

31

The Life of the Caterpillar

placed a few egg-laden branches in the wind-
ow of my study. They are standing in a
glass of water which will keep them proper-
ly fresh for some time.

The little caterpillars leave the egg in the
morning, at about eight o'clock. If I just
lift the scales of the cylinder in process of
hatching, I see black heads appear, which
nibble and burst and push back the torn cei*
mgs. The tiny creatures emerge slowly, some
here and some there, all over t! surface.

After the hatching, the scaly cylinder is as
regular and as fresh in appearance as if it
were still inhabited. We do not perceive that
It is deserted until we raise the spangles.
The eggs, still arranged in regular rows, are
now so many yawning goblets of a slightly
translucent white; they lack the cap-shaped
lid, which has been rent and destroyed by the
new-born grubs.

The puny creatures measure a millimetre^
at most in length. Devoid as yet of the bright
red that will soon be their adornment, they
are pale-yellow, bristling with hairs, some
shortish and black, others rather longer and
white. The head, of a glossy black, is big
^.039 iach.— Translator's Note.

22

The Processionary ; the Hatching

WdT^TK ^'^ *'^"'"" '» '"'« ">" of

mplt 'a I;;e3'"'''' ''" Z' "'^ ''"''
r^oi^ ki r ^^'^^esponding strength of iaw
cap ble of ,„ ,i ,„„g, J^ ^of J w

start. A huge head, stoutly clad in horn U
the predo..„a„t feature of L budding cate^:

These macrocephalous ones are, as we «e
welUrmed against the hardness of hip ne
needles, so well-armed in fact that the mea

scaled '7 """nents at random among the
scales of the common cradle most n? Ih.
young caterpillars make for the dolle I a

ana spread themselves over it at len«h

From time to time thrc^ r.- <r., , , •
eaten fh^.V fill t • ' ,^ °^ ^ "** ^^o have
eaten their fill fall ,nto line and walk in sten

but soon separate earh rr^.-^ u- -P'

This is practice for .h. ^ ^ ^'' '''^" ^^y-
If I disturb hern' eve; sHZ^

the front half of thrb^die^a'dt^tS

23

^'

The Life of the Caterpillar

heads with a jerky movement similar to the
action of an intermittent spring.

But the sun reaches the corner of the wind-
ow where the careful rearing is in progress.
Then, sufficiently refreshed, the little family
retreats to its native soil, the base of the
double leaf, gathers into an irregular group
and begins to spin. Its work is a gauze
globule of extreme delicacy, supported on
some of the neighbouring leaves. Under this
tent, a very wide-meshed net, a siesta is taken
during the hottest and brightest part of the
day. In the afternoon, when the sun has gone
from the window, the flock leaves its shelter,
disperses around, sometimes forming a little
procession within a radius of an inch, and
starts browsing again.

Thus the very moment of hatching pro-
claims talents which age will develop without
adding to their number. In less than an hour
from the bursting of the egg, the caterpillar
is both a processionary and a spinner. He
also flees the light when taking refreshment.
We shall soon find him visiting his grazing-
grounds only at night.

The spinner is very feeble, but so active
that m ^wenty-four hours the silken globe at-

The Processionary; the Hatching

tains the bulk of a hazel-nut and In a couple

.s notfhV^?^ 'Vf'- Nevertheless
n wh; hM^"'''"' "^'^^ great establishm nt
in which he winter is to be spent. It is J
provisional shelter, very light and inexpen ve
•n materials. The mildness of the season
makes th,ng else unnecessary. The young
caterpnlars freely gnaw the logs, the poles be
ween h ,he threads are st'r;tch:d t , J

en Vh.- r' '"^"'"'"^^ ^^'^h'" the silken
tent. 7 heir house supplies them at the same
time with board and lodging. This excelL^ Tr
rangement saves the. from hLi ^to go o"'
a dangerous proceeding at their age^ For the";

^ N-UU^l l^' ^^'""^^^ '^ ^J«° the Ta der

Nibbled down to their veins, the supporting

eaves wither and easily come unfastened fom

hotelTht^'" '1/'^ ^^''"' g'«^^ becom n
wInH t\ '.'"'"m^'' ^'th the first gust of
w nd. The family then moves on and goe
eJsewhere to erect a ne^ tent, lasting no longe
than the first. Even so does the Arab mo've
on. as the pastures around his camel-hide
dwening become exhausted. These tempor ry
establishn..nts are renewed several times over
always at greater heights than the ast so
much so that the tribe, which was hatched on

25

i

The Life of the Caterpillar

the lower branches trailing on the ground,

gradually reaches the higher boughs and

sometimes the very summit of the pine-tree.

In a few weeks' time, a first moult replaces

the humble fleece of the start, which is pale-

coloured, shaggy and ugly, by another which

lacks neither richness nor elegance. On the

dorsal surface, the various segments, ex-

cepting the first three, are adorned with a

mosaic of six little bare patches, of a bright

red, which stand out a little above the dark

background of the skin. Two, the largest,

are in front, two behind and one, almost dot-

shaped, on either side of the quadrilateral.

The whole is surrounded by a palisade of

scarlet bristles, divergent and lying alm.ost

flat. The other hairs, those of the belly and

sides, are longer and whitish.

In the centre of this crimson marquetry

stand two clusters of very short bristles,

gathered into flattened tufts which gleam in

the sun like specks of gold. The length of

the caterpillar is now about two centimetres^

and his width three or four millimetres.^

Such is the costume of middle age, which, like

the earlier one, was unknown to Reaumur.

'About three-quarters of an inch.— Translator's Note
-.117 to .156 inch.— Translator's Note

26

CHAPTER ri

THE PINE PROCESSIONARV: THE NEST; THE
CO.XfMUNITY

N^Jm^^^u^ -nves, however, bringing
J; ^ cold weather; the time has con e to bulM
the stout winter tabernacle. HiXunl th^
P.ne the t,p of a bough is chosen I'thsulJaSy
close-packed and convergent eaves The
sp.nners surround it with a spreading network
wh,ch bends the adjacent leaves a liftrenlat;
faLr 1 I '"^^'•Pr^t'ng them into the

ha? silk ha f l"'^ '^'' .°.'^"" ^" -^'-"'e
najt siJk, half leaves, capable of withstanding

the mclemences of the weather ^

to fh'e sizTo"??"'" ^'^ ^7^ ^- ■■"— d
to cne size of a man's two fists or more In

nearly half a gallon by the end of winter
JknlT^! ^8«-^haped, tapering to a c'rt-
am Ienfc.n below and extended into a sheath
which envelops the supporting branch Th-
ong,n of this silky extension^•s as follols
every even.ng between seven and nine o'clock,'

27

The Life of the Caterpillar

weather permitting, the caterpillars leave the
nest and go down the hare part of the
bough which forms the pole of the tent. The
road is broad, for this axis is sometimes
as wide as the neck of a claret-bottle. The
descent is accomplished without any attempt
at order and always slowly, so much so that
the first caterpillars to come out have not yet
dispersed before they are caught up by the
others. The branch is thus covered by a con-
tinuous bark of caterpillars, made up of the
whole community, which gradually divides
into squads and disperses to this side and that
on the nearest branches to crop their leaves.
Now not one of the caterpillars moves a step
without workl.ig his spinneret. Therefore the
broad downward path, which on the way
back will be the ascending path, is covered,
as the result of constant traffic, with a multi-
tude of threads forming an unbroken sheath.
It is obvious that this sheath. In which each
caterpillar, passing backwards and forwards
on his nocturnal rambles, leaves a double
thread, is not an indicator laid down with the
sole object of simplifying the journey back to
the nest : a mere ribbon would be enough for
that. Its use might well be to strengthen the

28

The Proccssionary : the Nest

ioh i^'° ^'*'";'^ ^?P'' foundations and co

branch ' ' "'"'"'"^^ '^ "^'" '^ '^^ steady

The whole thing thus consists, above of

nnrf o /r ^ '''"^^'^ surrounding the sud

port and adding its resistance to that oVthe
numerous other fastenings

nf «4,- u ^ ' '^^ ^^"f''^' mass, formed

thiol oult'TnT" '^T''^ ^'^^ ^- ^ - "a
tn.ck quilt into which are absorbed, as sup-
ports, numbers of eaves rrrp^n o li • ^
The thickness of this lail mf K "^ '"u"'''
up to three-quarte. oft^ i^h' '' ^"^^^^^
At the top of the dome are round openings
vary'ng greatly in number and distribS^. J
w.de across as an ordinary lead-S^Th;

ca" p ,,tr!o In'' 'r""' ^''■""^^ -^-f^ ^h"

^:-^;^-o;c;-;t::-.^;u^te:^

teeth have respected. From the tip of e,ch

29

ill

Hi

! '1^

The Life of the Caterpillar

a light tent, a spacious verandah of careful
workmanship, especially in the upper part.
Here we find a broad terrace on which, in the
daytime, the caterpillars come and doze in
the sun, heaped one upon the other, with
rounded backs. The network stretching
overhead does duty as an awning: it mode-
rates the heat of the sun's rays; It also saves
the sleepers from a fall when the bough rocks
in the wind.

Let us take our scissors and rip open the
nest from end to end longitudinally. A wide
wmdow opens and allows us to see the ar-
rangement of the inside. The first thing to
strike us is that the leaves contained in the
enclosure are intact and quite sound. The
young caterpillars in their ten^porary esta-
blishments gnaw the leaves within the silken
wrapper to death; they thus have their larder
stocked for a few days without having to quit
their shelter in bad weather, a condition made
necessary by their weakness. When they
grow stronger and start working on their win-
ter home, they are very careful not to touch
the leaves. Why these new scruples ?

The reason is evident. If bruised, those
leaves, the framework of the house, would

30

The Proccssionary : the Nest

torn from its base u n n' ""'"" P""^.
other hanV r the I. "'^ '""'''P^^- ^n the

-main vi.<;r:C:t!;^.^r;z:;f '''^

aga.nst the assaults of untcr ?"S^"PP '"^
cn«ng is superfluous f r h .' ' ^'''
which lasts but a d v r '"""''' ''''"''

thepermanentshclter^;. c\;mr""''r^
the burden of h^.,, " "^^'^ to Lear

of icy wtr' f2 r:;,"?.' "" '"'.?"'•"«

spinner of the n L , ^"^ P"''*' "•=

bound, ho,v:t:/;:;7L-- - b-e.f
Lie!" ^^-^ '"^^^ '^' "^-s tr^,^

more or less cIo^pIv „,; j • ^'^^^" ^^''•^es,

whence darjell^dlX^ 'slinl'j ^^^'
o^ dried droppings. In sho t ^b '"^'

•s an extremely unpleasant nT.' ' '"'''■'°'*
and a sewage- farm In ^ 'f' ^ "^'^^op

Jn no way with Z °"': '"^ corresponds

-ound fs'a'^'id';;7"r^ ?-^^^'"^- '-^^

closely-woven Ses ''"7-he,e': e"^^ ^'t "'
bers, no co.^partments marked o/b '"?'
tJon-walls. It is a sin«I. ^^ P''*''^'-

« IS a single room, turned into a

31

I

'4.

The Life of the Caterpillar

labyrinth by the colonnade of green leaves
placed in rows one above the other through-
out the ova! hall. Here the caterpillars
stay when resting, gathered on the columns,
heaped in confused masses.

When we remove the hopeless tangle at the
top, we see the light filtering in at certain
points of the roof. These luminous points cor-
respond with the openings that communicate
with the outer air. 'Ihe network that forms
a wrapper to the nest has no special exits.
To pass through it in either direction, the
caterpillars have only to push the sparse
threads aside slightly. The inner wall, a com-
pact rampart, has its doors; the flimsy outer
veil has none.

It is in the morn-'--, at abovt ten o'clock,
that the caterpillars leave their night-apart-
ment and come to take the sun on their ter-
race, uniler the awning which the points of
the leaves hold up at a distance. They spend
the whole day there dozing. Motionless,
heaped together, they steep themselves de-
liciously in warmth and from time to time be-
tray their bliss by nodding and wagging their
heads. At six or seven o'clock, when it grows
dark, the sleepers awake, bestir themselves,

32

The Processionary .- the Nest

d'rection over the wh '"^•^"^'^•'- 'n every

aslant; others form a slT ' ^'"'^ """''^
as they solemnly walk 1 .^'^ '''"""• ^^"^'.
order/each ^es to h '? ' '^''^'"^'''' J'^-

'hus is the th,Vl.n ^ r ^. '^'■""^ '^s ''P-

-"»ed by ffo'e r nd i'^- ^'■^■"," '"
above the nrevm,,. „ ' "nmcil.atdy

dwelling «re'g,hee J bv^'h'' """ '» "•'

""■•It and absorbed mZl?,' '^^ """
tiniest bit of them r.J"- . "'''''"8- 'f 'I"-
fr.™ thit noln? '"' ''""• '^'"■^■•' "diate

veil and fastening |7'?'"« '•"= ^'« "f 'he

Every evenir;bT„:fVTnr'''""'-^-
great animation rei,-ns ^,„ I, ?" ""■ "v°.

"est, if the weathnr,, " ""'^•'« "f "le

of consolidatnrt t'^T"'^ ''"l' "•^- ""rk
■'^ -ie., on wiVitti^:br.!^,S ~^-

wh?:ai';L';h~ti::"'^^'^''-:->™"

of winter? Ei;"' r '" .tiT,-

33

m^M^^^^^^^^^^^^^t^^^-

-■•Ai

m

The Life of the Caterpillar

months' experience — if indeed experience can
be mentioned in connection with a caterpillar
— tells them of savoury bellyfuls of green
stuff, of gentle slumbers in the sun on the ter-
race of the nest; but nothing hitherto has
made them acquainted with cold, steady rain,
with frost, snow and furious blasts of wind.
And these creatures, knowing naught of win-
ter's woes, take the same precautions as if they
were thoroughly aware of all that the incle-
ment season holds in store for them. They
work away at their house with an ardour that
seems to say:

"Oh, how nice and warm we shall be in
our beds here, nestling one against the other,
when the pine-tree swings aloft its frosted
candelabra ! Let us work with a will ! Lahore-
mus!"

Yes, caterpillars, my friends, let us work
with a will, great and small, men and grubs
alike, so that we may fall asleep peacefully;
you with the torpor that makes way for your
transformation into Moths, we with that last
sleep which breaks off life only to renew it.
Laboremiis!

Anxious to watch my caterpillars' habits in
detail, without havin'^ to sally forth by lan-

34

v.*:;

The Processionary : ,he Nest

.'■'«"^>--. : have huSjuu "f "' '^' ^n-

*ft'cn, t!.ough harHlv , ' S'"^''' shelter

°"'»ide, at feast fftds'n"'r""'^"">e air
"'■nd and rain. F\Zt T'""T ^'°"' 'he
of about eighteen inche" bv'tl,"'''K'' ' ''?«'"
hough that serves as both, ^ ■ ^ ^ase of the
"-ork. each nest receives f' ""'•"'"^ = '"">=-
of li'fle pine-braX whth""°"' '' ''""'^'^
»oon as they are conlLmed 7 T^"^'' "^
tern every evening j ' 'ake my an-

"»it. TWs i^Te* '"''. P'>; ."y boarders a
'»cts are obui^ed '' '" "'■'^'' "">« of my

™^/' TheLSlaTrd' "Tr '"^ --ng
adding a few Ze ,,?""''<' f™-" the nest^

sheath of the suDoort I^' '° 'he silver^
fre^h green stuffXh rstir^' "'' ^^^ "^
- a magnificent sight to te^'h'"'' "i"- "
hand hned up in L' f fhe red-coated

"eedle and in fa, fc '™c „lf r""'^" °" '=ach
Breen sprigs of the buncth *'/°''T'='' 'hat the
, The diners, all mo^^tlesaN."'' '"'''■
heads forward, nibb e ' «■? ''°^'"« 'heir

rhe,r broad biackforel^^adsT' "''"^'y-

ureneads gleam in the

35

••K^:.iJ?efflii^at(»

The Life of the Caterpillar

rays of the lantern. A shower of granules
drops on the sand below. These are the
residues of easy-going stomachs, only too
ready to digest their foe/. By to-morrow
morning the soil will have disappeared under
a greenish layer of this intestinal hail. Yes,
indeed, it is a sight to see, one far more stimu-
lating than that of the Silk-worms' mess-room.
Young and old, we are all so much interested
in it that our evenings almost invariably end in
a visit to the greenhouse caterpillars.

The meal is prolonged far into the night.
Saiisfied at last, some sooner, some later, they
go back to the nest, where for a little longer,
feeling their silk-glands filled, they continue
spinning on the surface. These hard workers
would scruple to cross the white carpet with-
out contributing a few threads. It is getting
on for one or even two o'clock in the morn-
ing when the last of the band goes indoors.

My duty as a foster-father i? daily to re-
new the bunch of sprigs, which are shorn to
the last leaf; on the other hand, my duty as
an historian is to enquire to what extent the
diet can be varied. The district supplies me
with Processionaries on the Scotch pine, the
maritime pine and the Aleppo pine indif-

36

r.4ir^^%.

The Processionary: the Nest

ferently, but never on the other Conifers

leaf ZJr'' '''''' f ^'^^ '^y resin-scen ed'
leaf ought to suit. So says chemical analysis

We must m.strus. tl ' ^hemist's retort when

It pokes ,ts nose into kitchen. It may sue"

and bran7''"f '.""" °"^ '' tallow-cand es
us2t "hlr «"7^ potatoes; but, when it tells
us that the products are identical, we shall do
well to refuse these abominations. Science
aston.shmgly rich as it is in poison, will neve;
provde us with anything fit to eit b caus/
hough the raw substancf falls to a large ex'

scapIsItT ''\tT'''u ^^^^ --^ -bS-
escapes ,ts methods the moment that it is

defi"n>ei:Tv"'th''' ''''''' ^"^ -divided i!

bv the J^ ^ t' T'''' °^ ^•^^' «s needed

N. be m T''^' ^^"f requirements are not

o be met by measured doses of our reagents

aDs h? "".T-'f •^^.^^" ^"^ fibre may pet'
:fau ^[^'fieially obtained, some day cell
and fibre themselves, never. There's th^ rub
with your chemical feeding "^

mlnt.lfy^^'? ^""J^^y P'-^'^'^'"^ the insur.
mountable difficulty of the problem. Relying

on my chemical data, I offer them the X?
ferent substitutes for the pine growing In mv
enclosure: the spruce, the yew, the thujl" t^

37

a 8 "A

m

■'*«»«..

m:^

j I

I

The Life of the Caterpillar

juni' sr, the cypress. What! Am T asking
them, Pine Caterpillars, to bite into that?
They will take good care not to, despite the
tempting resinous smell ! They would die of
hunger rather than touch it! One conifer
and one only is excepted: the cedar. My
charges browse upon its leaves with no appre-
ciable repugnance. Why the cedar and not
the others? I do not know. The caterpil-
la.- s stomach, fastidious as our own, has its
secrets.

Let us pass to other tests. I have just slit

open longitudinally a nest whose internal

structure I want to explore. Owing to the

natural shrinkage of the split swan's-down, the

cleft reaches two fingers' breadth in the centre

and tapers at the top and bottom. What will

the spinners do in the presence of such a

disaster? The operation is performed by day,

while the caterpillars are slumbering in heaps

upon the dome. As the living-room is de-

sorted at this time, I can cut boldly with the

scissors without risk of damaging any part

of the population.

My ravages do not wake the sleepers: all
S?y \°"| "Of o"e appears upon the breach.
Ihis mdifference looks as though it were due

38

^ ji

A -v^-* y

The Processionary : the Nest
that Hugh ,vin,)m„ k u I «"^'nly notice

.deadly dt:g;t:f;tt'T„'^"''™•^'•'^

=ny amount of paddit U "' P"'"='''"«

fa.rt7„i!LtroV:Hf:LC.r'«^'

K'uvoKes not a sitn of eve (-emt f -ru
'^ove to and fro on the si-rfaceTf h ^'^
they work, they spin as u ua Th ""''*
change, absolutely none in LuT '•' ""
When the road ml T'l ^'^"" hehaviour.

of the. to tt "b^'k'o^^h:" ^^-'^'"^ ^°"^^
no alacrity on thei; par/ no si^n'of' "'• "^
no atteniDt tn rl^o L ^n of anxiety,

'lit- They slnlv Z ""' ''™ '^''e" of 'h
difficult crossr/a„,r' '"."""■P^i'h the

?«^i41hftLrdiliraTt^,°^V"

their body permits. ^^' ^'"^^^ °^

39

V

y

1;

.m

h

■;*"

'^ i-

:!i; '^f^ ^^mib^.ci'^jrim'M^^-^hi^^-;^^;tJu

1

The Life of the Caterpillar

Having once crossed the gulf, they pursue
their way imperturbably, without stopping any
more at the breach. Others come upon the
scene and, using the threads already laid as
foot-bridges, pass over the rent and walk on,
leaving their own thread as they go. Thus
the first night's work results in the laying over
the cleft of a filmy gauze, hardly perceptible,
but just sufficient for the traffic of the colony.
The same thing Is repeated on the nights that
follow; and the crevice ends by being closed
with a scanty sort of Spider's web. And that
is all.

There is no improvement by the end of the
winter. The window made by my scissors
IS still wide open, though thinly veiled; its
black spindle shape shows from the top of
the nest to the bottom. There is no dam
in the split texture, no piece of swan's-down
let in between the two edges to restore the
roof to its original state. If the accident had
happened in the open air and not under glass,
the foolish spinners would probably have died
of cold in their cracked house.

Twice renewed with the same results, this
test proves that the Pine Caterpillars are not
alive to the danger of their split dwelling.

40

.--■^.nr^^^j

The Processionary : the Nest

Expert spinners though thev he tU.,

as unconscious of the ruin ?f .f' • ^ f '""

solid ^sZ\7stJ\L'""ir^i' "•'''' '"''

as they spun yesterday and as they wilf spn
o-morrow, strengthening the parts Tha' are
already strong, thickening wha' s aire- Hv
th,ck enough; and not one thinks'o stoppln'
the disastrous gap. To ]pt -> r.\. ."oppmfe

I have often called attention to this feature
n an,ma] psychology; notably I have d/
scribed the ineptitude of the caterplllarof th."
Great Peacock Moth.^ When^hl ?
menter lops the ton off thl , ^""P^""'-

fro« u- y , ^°P On the comphcated eel
trap wh.ch forms the pointed end of the co

coon th,s caterpillar spends the silk It in;-

English—rranj/a/o?/^;;;;^'' " ""* ^^' translated info

41

3

The Life of the Caterpillar

to him in work of secondary impc-tance, in-
stead of making good the scries of cones, each
httmg mto the other, which are so essential to
the hermit's protection. He continues his
normal task imperturbably, as though nothing
out of the way had taken place. Even so does
the spmner m the pine-tree act with his burst
tent.

Your foster-parent must perpetrate yet
another piece of mischief, O my Proces-
sionary; but this time it shall be to your
advantage ! It does not take me long to per-
ceive that the nests intended to last through
the winter often contain a population much
greater than that of the temporary shelters
woven by the very young caterpillars. I also
notice that, when they have attained their ulti-
mate dimensions, these nests differ very con-
siderably in size. The largest of them are
equal co five or six of the smallest. What is
the cause of these variations?

Certainly, if all the eggs turned out well,
the scaly cylinder containing the laying of a
single mother would be enough to fill a splen-
did purse: there are three hundred enamelled
beads here for hatching. But in families
which swarm unduly an enormous waste al-

42

The Processionary: the Community

a well thinncd-out troon t ' '^?''" "^
^■f organic matter nf.'?' """"'" ""^i"'

vivors around XlUt J2 , ''"'"' "< ^'"-
which the fam ly nat ^^th. """'"'' '"
days. Soon thev uH' h? ^'"""y ^"'""i"

rhe stoutiy-bui,,; ;;;,'; % "'v'-i"'""? °f

't would be a boon if thev con 1 K ''' ' "?^'
from union springs strenU ' "''"^' '"

in their pe Irina^ont"? """1 " » ^uidf

caterpillar^ haveX." ilk °KK ""^ T"' ""=
follow on their refn I ,'''"'"' «'"ch they
They may abo 2 I "^'7 ''"""""g a bend

Jifferingfn no rToec T^ "f ? ^"''"'"' ""'

new nbbo„"°mrrS" h ^^af^: T ' ^""^

Situated in the ne\^uu u ^, ° ^°'^e ""t

'A ored "^'g^bourhood. The strayed

of prayer. Cf. Sodal LifTinn}'''^^ resembling that

43

fi«

W,

'>-

'W-mil^^aAiiJm^i ^^L.fcV^-v^'

I

Ihe Lite of the Caterpillar

caterpillars, failing to distinguish it from their
own ribbon, follow it conscientiously and in
this manner end by reaching a strange dwell-
ing. Suppose them to be peacefully received :
what will happen?

Once fused, the several groups assembled
by the accident of the path will form a power-
ful city, fitted to produce great works; the
concerted weaklings will give rise to a strong,
united body. This would explain the thickly-
populated, bulky nests situated so near to
others that have remained puny. The former
would be the work of a syndicate incorporat-
ing the interests of spinners collected from
different parts; the latter would belong to
families left in isolation hj the luck of the
road.

h remains to be seen whether the chance-
comers, guided by a strange ribbon, meet with
a good reception in the new abode. TI ->
periment is easily made upon the nests in lue
greenhouse. In the evening, at the hours
devoted to grazing, I remove with a pruning-
shears the different little branches covered
with the population of one nest and lay them
on the provisions of the neighbouring nest,
which provisions are also overrun with cater-

44

>-.l^r-^

Thr Proccssionary: the Community
pillars. Or f can make shorter work of It

irefhrr- oil I '>"i' n.uc always lived to-

feetner, a 1 do some spinnin.^ before reflrln

renenM-nrr fk *^^ "'' <J"rmitory. Bv

repeating the same operation nevf ,uJ i Z

necessary, the dav nft.t ' , ^^ ^"'^' '^

<.k I , ^y arter, m order tn r ''«,.«.

I venture to do somethinir better ^rlll ru

^Jciin/to it he ' ^^oVtC"'""?-"!'" ""^
tablishments. And if I r • ",""'" ^''-

■"--.^c..t^^.:U.'z^;lri^J„'

45

L

'■^ifti^..:^''^.^

The Life of the Caterpillar
manifests Itself in this shifting of quarters,

so I /n'' r u"""^^' '° "^y experiment,
so cheerfully do the caterpillars accept anJ
addition to the.r number. 'I'he more spin-
ners, the more spinning: a very- judicious rule
of conduct.

Let us add that the caterpillars which have
been transported cherish no regrets for their
o d house, f hey are quite at home with the
others and make no attempt to regain the
nest whence fhcy were banished by my arti-
ices, ft ,s not the distance that discourages
fhem, for the empty dwelling is only half a
yard away at most. If, for the purpose of
my studies, I wish to restock the deserted
nest, I am obliged once more to resort to
transportation, which invariably proves sue
cessful.

Later, in February, when an occasional fine
day allows of long processions on the walls
and the sand-covered shelf <,f the green-
house, I am able to watch the fusing of two
^/■""P^^^'ifhout personally intervening. All
that I have to do is patiently to follow the
evolutions ot a file on the march. I see it
sometimes, after leaving one nest, enter a
different one, guided by some fortuitous

46

The Proccssionarv the f\,.««, •

:•' "i«hf. ,i,e scant, Krot:: T.'"" Z''^' '™
"'"ease and catlier -h J """" ""■«

always peacefully rcceL!l ''T V** ""•■'"«

precisely as he wouTd hi '^o7n"'"w;^ ^"'""
member „f the frll„ „ Whether a

room in the refecttv f """«"' ^^ finds
tory. The other '• *^ ""^ '"T '" ">e dormi-
others' gra,inltoun"r ' V ""'^ ""'' The

in.which\:'ins;;tr;r™''"'''

neither greater nor .r», ii f ^"^'■^' ""^

Po.u / "'^.f'lsuaJ companions.
I^ach for all and all for each S
the Processiomrv .,.», ^" s»ys

his little cap ta of s |k° "'"^ """"« ^''^''^
'hat is often' ne^to^ „ " ^{itt'T 'I /t^","
«.th his puny skein, if alone' I? n ' ''°
'h'ng- But there ar hundreds aii h 'VT
of them in the spin„ing.m[^f rd'tHrrtut

47

The Life of the Caterpillar

of their infinitesimal contributions, woven into
a common stuff, is a thick blanket capable
of resisting the winter. In working for
himself, each works for the others; and
these on their side work as zealously for
each. O lucky animals that know nothing
of property, the mother of strife! O en-
viable ccnobites, who practise the strictest
communism !

These habits of the caterpillars invite a
few reflections. Generous minds, richer in
illusions than in logic, set communism before
us as the sovran cure for human ills. Is it
practicable among mankind? At all times
there have been, there still are and there
always will be, fortunately, associations in
which it is possible to forget in common some
small part of the hardships of life; but is it
possible to generalize?

The caterpillars of the pine can give us
much valuable information in this respect.
Let us have no false shame: our material
needs are shared by the animals; they strug-
gle as we do to take part in the general ban-
quet of the living; and the manner in which
they solve the problem of existence is r o
be despised. Let us then ask ourselves .at

48

The Processionary: the Community

existent Peace retL^"''' " ^"' """-

A P'ne-needle ;,"^ ':'C'tffi " "Z'-^^^-
caterpflJar's mp-,!. J^ [ ^""^^^^^ ^^r the

there' waWngTo'breaEl" ""^ V'"^^'
haustible numbers aLn , ' "u"'"'^ '" '"«"
the home. When 'T """"^ ""'"'''•''i <>'
caterpillars go oufwe tar;r ""'"' ''^
3 little in procession fh ^t """' "'^ "'"<
seeking, w.^hout lu^rTv'aw!'™' '=''°"°"»
fives at the banquet Tb! ,1,""' '"' O"^"
fully spread and will nevl b. h " P'^"''"
and generous is tT pi„e , tt' '" '"^^
do is, from one evening ,!,' ,k ^' "^ "^'^d

our dining roomTmH*- Tart"™' V°"
quently, there arp nr ""^'"^i^ on. Conse-

cares on the sub ect „r"'"''"'' "° f"ture
pillar finds food to ea/a'ir'"""'^ "■= "'^'-
finds air to breathe " "' "^"^ ''» he

witl": ru°:?'':'-b^,./rft' ■"" ^^"'"- ^ -

crave AJl .L " ""^ necessary to

^" ""^"°^" t« '>self, without the
49

The Life of the Caterpillar

agency of any effort or labour, the animal re-
ceives its share of the most vital of elements.
The niggardly earth, on the contrary, sur-
renders its gifts only when laboriously forced.
Not fruitful enough to satisfy every need, it
leaves the division of the food to the fierce
eagerness of competition.

The mouthful to be procured engenders
war between consumers. Look at two
Ground-beetles coming at the same time upon
a bit of Earth-worm. Which of the two
shall have the morsel? The matter shall
be decided by battle, desperate, ferocious
battle. With these famished ones, who eat
at long intervals and do not always eat
their fill, communal life is out of the
question.

The Pine Caterpillar Is free from these
woes. He finds the earth as generous as the
atmosphere; he finds eating as easy as breath-
ing. Other instances of perfect communism
might be named. All occur among species
living on a vegetable diet, provided however
that victuals are plentiful and obtainable with-
out a hard search. An animal diet, on the
contrary, a prey, always more or less difficult
to secure, banishes cenobitism. Where the

50

t!rr\«t^jK

m^'^.

The Processionary: the Community

portion is too small f^

would there be fT^Jl', ""^^ W-" excuse

pnvatL''"tetn.fr^^^^

Totrre,;:: :X?^^ '^^^

,=! half of the sZsshZoV^' '"" " ■""
I'fe: we must also as f7 "P™ "» '>y

P"e a place for „,',. "^ ^^ Possible, pre-

preservaWon of th° pecr-°"j ='"<'• "">'
Ponance than that of h "."'s.'-^"-'- -m-
^--uggle for the future s el„ «*'"'?'• *«
"■•uggle for the preser P "'"'■ "'^" ""e
gards the welfare of her' ^ff""^ ""'"'" «-
mary law. Perish all .1 °'''P''"'g »s her pri-
brood flourish I Evervt'- "/""l'^'^ '^" 'he
maxim, imposed by th^ T H""'^^ '•' her
conflict; every one for hir",7-°l"'^ 8™"="!
safeguard of'ihe future ' " ""^ "•"'■=• 'he

^ith maternity anrf ,Vo •
communism ceases to hi '"^P^'-'ous duties,
^'•ght, certain Hvmnon?^"^^^^^- ^t firs
the contrary, 'we fi'nd"' '"-"^ ^° ^-^^-
Mason-bees of the Shed.=5 ^o^^^.f^nce, the
, ^The order of ,•,;. ""'^'"S '" Myriads

Ants S. «,;;/, --^^^^^^^^^ the Bees. LspT

-Cf. The Mason-bees I,v f]^' ^■~^'''""'''*<^r'sNote

51

tr^^Ji^

I' ■f,

■I

i<

The Life of the Caterpillar

on the same tiles and building a monumental
edifice at which all the mothers work. Is this
really a community? Not at all. It is a city
in which the inhabitants have neighbours, not
collaborators. Each mother kneads her pots
of honey; each amasses a dowry for her off-
spring and nothing but a dowry for her off-
spring; each wears herself out for her family
and only for her family. Oh, it would be a
serious business if some one merely came and
alighted on the brim of a cell that did not
belong to her; the mistress of the house would
give her to understand, by means of a sound
drubbing, that manners such as those are not
to be endured ! She would have to skedaddle
very quickly, unless she wanted a fight. The
rights of property are sacred here.

Even the much more social Hive-bee is no
exception to the rule of maternal egoism. To
each hive one mother. If there be two, civil
war breaks out and one of them perishes by
the other's dagger or else quits the country,
followed by a part of the swarm. Although
virtually fit to lay eggs, the other Bees, to
the number of some twenty thousand, re-
nounce maternity and vow themselves to celi-
bacy in order to bring up the prodigious

52

■Wmihmnh'w:.

'MmSiSmt

.^^^m

The Processionary: the Community

ct^Lt't;:: 2L' ™'^ -'-"■ Here,
forthwith Shed ^ '"'• "■""■"hood i^

Te™"es"a„d 'i^'e ™i„'J"' ' ,""= ^«». '^^
in common costs he™ dear'Tr^'"^' ^'<'
thousands remain in^m^ et'e ami°b""* "l'
humble auxiliaries of , T 'f . ' '''™™« 'he
endowed. But wh-n. "''° "" ^""'""y
genera, portio^ M::,^'^' '" "''
Tw- &-- — Sn-het;

Pt but must onel ^rVth h'\^' '^ "ot

ng of matcrnitv thaf fl„ , ^ Wossom-

■ndividual property wlulTf" '''''" "«'■

attendc. :^s riv i;i^ "tu/".'' '° =PPear,

peaceable wii, l.tp .I '• ' "« 'nsect now so

P'^y^ of selfish'' n^tjfcrarce^V'T^ '■\*'^-
wll isolate themselv^lr i ,''^ mothers

pine-needle in whi h i,' r"'.°' ""' ''""We

'o be fixed., thetats 'fluSbt th:' '^?' '''
■Wh,-,c Ams.-r™,„,„„;, ",7'"S 'heir wmgs,

53

if' ?

.- '11,
1 . It

WSS^^^

■A "'H .1 jiy;-:,Mf >

The Life of the Caterpillar

will challenge one another for the possession
of the coveted bride. It is not a serious strug-
gle among these easy-going ones, but still it
presents a faint picture of those mortal affrays
which the mating so often produces. Love
rules the world by battle; it too is a hotbed of
competition.

The caterpillar, being almost sexless, is in-
different to amorous instincts. This is the
first condition for living pacifically in com-
mon. But it is not enough. The perfect
concord of the community demands among all
its members an equal division of strength and
talent, of taste and capacity for work. This
condition, which perhaps is the most import-
ant of all, is fulfilled preeminently. If there
were hundreds, if there were thousands of
them in the same nest, there would be no dif-
ference between any of them.

They are all the same size and equally
strong; all wear the same dress; all possess
the same gift for spinning; and all with equal
zeal expend the contents of their silk-glands
for the general welfare. No one idles, no
one lounges along when there is work to be
done. With no other stimulus than the sat-
isfaction of doing their duty, every evening,

S4

The Processionary: the Community

'» no question of skiLrl L ,^^f"' ^"^<= '^ere
°- weak, of ab tetiol ^""f '"=* "^"^""g
»^' "either hard-Zkers „„® ""r""'' "-"^
"vers nor spendthrift. wT ."""'' "'''"'"

Equality is a mLTficenTn 7"'f ^ ^^^°'-'"
but little more. Whe e is'it ^^ '''^'^^°^d'
°""? In our sociaf 1 ' ^^" ^^"^''^7 of
^« "'any as two pts^^^^P^' ^'f^ we Ld
^t'-ength. health inteS '''^^ ^^"^^ '"
work, foresight and al f !L ''P^^'^y ^^^
are the grea? factors of n' °'^'' ^'^'' which

should we find an;ThLg anaTo'f"'^ ' .^^^^^
parity prev,i]in/3^"^^„^"^j°gous to the exact

-^orSpiL7t^'''--e.ho..
Puea, does not constitute a

55

The Life of the Caterpillar

harmony. We need dissimilarities, sounds
loud and soft, deep and shrill; we need even
discords which, by their harshness, throw into
relief the sweetness of the chords. In the
same way, human societies are harmonious
only with the aid of contraries. If the dreams
of our levellers could be realized, we should
sink to the monotony of the caterpillar so-
cieties; art, science, progress and the lofty
flights of the unagination would sJumber in-
definitely in the dead calm of mediocrity.

Besides, if this general levelling were ef-
fected, we should still be very far from com-
munism. To achieve that, we should have
to do away with the family, as the caterpil-
lars and Plato teach us; we should need
abundance of food obtained without any ef-
fort. So long as a mouthful of bread is diffi-
cult to acquire, demanding an industry and
labour of which we are not all equally capable,
so long as the family remains the sacred rea-
son for our foresight, so long will the
generous theory of all for each and each for
all be absolutely impracticable.

And then should we gain by abolishing the
struggle for the daily bread of ourselves and
those dependent on us? It is very doubtful.

S6

W^^^mM

The Processionary: the Community

ness. And the resnl^ .f .u- u^" °"'" ^''^at-
would be a ommun V o/h" ^"''^' ^^^"'^^^
Thus does th^ Ph VL """'" "^"P''"ars.
by his example. ^'°""'onary teach us

£1^

CHAPTER III

THE PINE PROCESSIONARY : THE PROCESSION

•p\ ROVER Dingdong's Sheep followed
-*-' the Ram which Panurge had maliciously
thrown overboard and leapt nimbly into the
sea, one after the other, "for you know," says
Rabelais, "it is the nature of the sheep al-
ways to follow the first, wheresoever it goes;
which makes Aristotle mark them for the
most silly and foolish animals in the world."^
The Pine Caterpillar is even more sheep-
like, not from foolishness, but from necessity:
where the first goes all the others go, in a
regular string, with not an empty space be-
tween them.

Th / proceed in single file, in a continuous
row, each touching with ' head the rear of
the one in front of it. ne complex twists
and turns described in iis vagaries by the
caterpillar leading the van are scrupulously
described by all the others. No Greek theoria
winding its way to the Eleusinian festivals ,vas

^Book IV., chap. \m— Translator's Note.

58

The Processionary: the Procession
ever more orderly. Hence th.
pt"-"""^«^--Xnterr.Hr

he^rro^^rc'/rTKlr^rV" -.'<'<'''■«

?nly on the tiRhtro ' a 1'°"^ ' ^ 7"''''
■n position as he advances Th "' "'',?''
who chances to he TZl' , f "'"P'"ar
sion dribhies his thr„ i 'i"^ °' '''' P™«»-
fi"s it on the d;^ h K "i r-"'j"'" ""'"8 »nd
cause him to tak rh\t" "'i''.'^ Preferences

";-^e,th"o:;!;%,^rw[;htr,'"r''"

g'a«, suspects it rather than sees "'"'''""«•
footaX°n"d'Si:^1t"Sr'\'^'-''-

spinnerets, so mtht h^t >:i"^ l"" "'"

«on has marched by, there t' ''™'""
record of its nassin^ , «mams, as a

whose da.ziin"" :hf;;„,;"™- -•"'' nbbon
sun. Very much "''""ess shimmers in the

their systZm^rrtTrntS"'""" "l'" °""'
stering with silk insTead L""'"";" "P*""'"

™"- '"ey C-Xr ^Lhs^rrrS

59

The Life of the Caterpillar

rail, a work of jreneral interest to which each
contributes his thread.

What is the use of all this kixury? Could
they not, like other caterpillars, walk about
without these costly preparation-^^ I sec two
reasons for their mode of progression, it
■s nip'it when the Processionaries sally forth
:r h i'' upon the pine-K aves. 'I'hey leave
"iv nest, situateii at the top of a bough, in
. • ti J darkness ; they go down the denuded
'' ■ .» they come to the nearest branch that
lias not yet been gnawed, a branch which be-
comes lower and lower by degrees as the con-
sumers rinish stripping the upper storeys; they
climb up this untouched branch and spread
over the green needles.

When they have had their suppers and be-
gin to feel the keen night air, the next thing
is to return to the shelter of the house.
Measured in a straight line, the distance is
not great, hardly an arm's length: but it can-
not be covered in this way on foot. The
caterpillars ha\c to climb down from one
crossing to the next, from the needle to the
twig, from the twig to the branch, from the
branch to the bough and from the bough, by
a no les« angular path, to go back home. It

60

mmMf^m^^^^m^

.-n*

The Proccssionary: the Proces.sion

'f is true, has /iv • „c /r 3,/.^ ■""^'.'''f' ^>"ary.
«f his head, but the arc r-'''''^''''''"^^

difficult to .ake:uti;:,;Htt::^^^^^^^^^

glass, that ne cannot attrihu e ^n T ^'*"^'
great pouer of vision Zl i ^^"^ ^"y

-uM those sho^^si",hte.te
'Absence of hy,, in bltck jark^^^^^^

it IS equally useless to think of .h«
or srne I Itc ^k,. 0 . ^ °^ the sense

b'viii^ a positive answer fr. t-u,.

I can at least dcclnre ,ha his"e„se Tf"""';;

's cxceedinirlv dull an.l L °' *""'"

help hin, fi-nd h"s w,v tI° "">' '"'""^ '"

my experiment, hv ! '^' ■.'"', " f"°^<^<i- '<"

'o -y ?upon°.hZ:t:,:^i'^~^ -^^ "- ^-^--^

settles (here th„ uth h f ' "°"="'' "^ "-em

donothaste^^:^;'S, i^Cr- fhey
from afar; they stoi) .r 1 h u i'' "'^"'ed
encounter on their way ""''" "■"■^'' "'^J'

6l

i^

i( .,

The Life of the Caterpillar

Apart from sight and smell, what remains
to guide them in returning to the nest ? The
ribbon spun on the road. In the Cretan laby-
rinth, Theseus would have been lost but for
the clue of thread with which Ariadne sup-
plied him. The spreading maze of the pine-
needles is, especially at night, as inextricable
a labyrinth as that constructed for Minos.
The Processionary finds his way through it,
without the possibility of a mistake, hy the
aid of his bit of silk. At the time for going
home, each easily recovers either his own
thread or one or other of the neighbouring
threads, spread fanwise by the diverging herd;
one by one the scattered tribe line up on the
common ribbon, which started from the nest ;
and the sated caravan finds its way back to
the manor with absolute certainty.

Longer expeditions are made in the day-
time, even in winter, if the weather be fine.
Our caterpillars then come down from the
tree, venture on the ground, march in proces-
sion for a distance of thirty yards or so. The
object of these sallies is not to look for food,
for the native pine-tree is far from being ex-
hausted : the shorn branches hardly count amid
the vast leafage. Moreover, the caterpillars

62

The Processionary: the Procession

of the local y whe e 1^'""^ I" '"'P""""

bury themselv'es in hetnd™/ "".^ """" '"
morphosis. ""^ '<"" 'heir meta-

It goes without sayinsthaf ;„ .i.
evolutions, the euidir . . '• " '''"' ^'■"ter
It is now ;nore L e "L" h " "" "'^'""d.
tribute to it from tht '^ t'" '""• ^H con-
n-ets, as is thenar tKrwh' "'" f"'
" a progression. Not one ,,? "" "'"'
ward without fixing M?k ^l' " "^p for-
hangin, from h^ "i^p '° "" P""' "-e thread

a" lon^TeltrKersT''" ^ "
make t easv tn <;„ " sufficiently to

homewardTournev it i "««^f 'ess, on the
■>« some heSton FoT' ^''"^ "P *'"'-
caterpillars whelon ^^"^T' "■" '^e
eompletely; to wheelrounj on h • "'T "'^"
IS a method utterlv n„t ^'"' "ght-rope
order therefore to rega^rr '" t'"' '"

covered, they have to describe' •""'^ '''^"<'>'
windings and eiten, T j " ^'8-'-»8 whose

ieaderl fancy Hne'^ot:™'"'' ''' "'^
' "encc come gropmgs and

63

The Life of the Caterpillar

roamings which are sometimes prolonged to
the point of causing the herd to spend the
night out of doors. It is not a serious mat-
ter. They collect into a motionless cluster.
To-morrow the search will start afresh and
will sooner or later be successful. Oftener
still the winding curve meets the guide-thread
at the first attempt. As soon as the first
caterpillar has the rail between his legs, all
hesitation ceases; and the band makes for the
nest with hurried steps.

The use of this silk-tapestried roadway is
evident from a second point of view. To pro-
tect himself against the severity of the win-
ter which he has to face when working, the
Pine Caterpillar weaves himself a shelter in
which he spends his bad hours, his days of
enforced idleness. Alone, with none but the
meagre resources of his silk-glands, he would
find difficulty in protecting himself on the top
of a branch buffeted by the winds. A sub-
stantial dwelling, proof against snow, gales
and icy fogs, requires the cooperation of a
large number. Out of the individual's piled-
up atoms, the community obtains a spacious
and durable establishment.

The enterprise takes a long time to com-

•?"f>\''<»V%:\^f'^ii&-^S.ife- ' 1liSi'S9\f^^^ii.~J-h r^'.

The Processionary: the Procession

-Cthf rjK ^he weather per-

enlarged. It il fn r ^! ^fengthened and

^^e ^oradU^^ t^;-^^^^^^ ^hat

solved while the stormv "''^ "°' ^^ ^'s-

the insects are sdr^^^h'"'"" '°"''""" ^"d
But, vvithout spec a r ^''^^^'•P'^ar stage.

^-nal expedite fgT^Tnfr"'^' ^^^^ "-*
C'-'use of separation. Th^ "' """"'^ '^^ ^
P.^f'te for food there s '"°'"'"' °^ ^P"
v'dualism. ThecTtem.n /''"''" ^" '"'^'■
Jess scattered, set h-l7J'';' ''^^°"^^ '^"''e or
-ound; each brotfs ht ' '" '^' '"'"^"^^es
'•fely. How are they to Tr""^'^ ^^P'^'
afterwards and bemrr,? "^ ""^^ another

The several thSleTo'^r''^ ^^^'" ?
th's easy. With that J ^ ^' '^"^ "^^^^

however far^e mavl. ' '"''"^^ ^^^^rpillar,
companions witho'rev:; Ts" '"!: ^° ^'^
They come hurrying fromJt"^ ''!" ''^y-
rom here, from thefe fr^ u°'' °^ ^^'g^'
ovv; and soon the sc;tr^ '.^°"'' ^'""^ b^'
'nto a group. The s k th f^'*'" '•^'■«'-"^»
"lore than a roid mnL '"'^ '^ something

65

iSSKIa*'-: '<"

4, ...
i

The Life of the Caterpillar

short, goes a first caterpillar whom I will call
the leader of the march or file, though the
word leader, which I use for want of a bet-
ter, is a little out of place here. Nothing, in
fact, distinguishes this caterpillar from the
others; it just depends upon the order In
which they happen to line up ; and mere chance
brings him to the front. Among the Proces-
sionaries, every captain is an oflicer of for-
tune. The actual leader leads; presently he
will he a subaltern, if the file should break up
in consequence of some accident and be
formed anew in a different order.

His temporary functions give him an atti-
tude of his own. While the others follow
passively in a close file, he, the captain, tosses
himself about and with an abrupt movement
flings the front o{ his body hither and thither.
As he marches ahead he seems to be seeking
his way Does he in point of fact explore the
country ? Does he choose the most practicable
places? Or are his hesitations merely the re-
sult of the absence of a guiding thread on
ground that has not yet been covered? His
subordinates follow very placidly, reassured
by the cord which they hold between their
legs; he, deprived of that support, is uneasy.

66

The Processiona,y: .he Procession

J"> by auction , the e A "" °' '"' ^o
"f discernment ;hich « ,m''' '/"■"" ''»«

no resistance and, above 'T '^iV^'l """
by other excursiomstV Tb- • ^'''^' '^'^
all that my Ion,. Tr„ ■ ' " a" O"- "early
cessionar™' hasU^ht'"''"'' "'■"• ">' P^*
'''"y- Poor bran ,td«d"oo° ""'" ™-

utn:rerdr^'>^^''-s;r,Sg'
ThltrsTUHeerr^ '•" !-«"■•

'he ground measured twelve o^b?"'"^ °"
^nd numbered about three hu„^T" >■"*
'ars, drawn ud wifh lu , """dred caterpil-

lengths fn the g'rcenhouse wZTl "' =
P'aj upon them ? I seennl ! '"*' "" J

'^TVe^^u';;^^^^^^^^

P™-ces S— L:!^, '-r 0. the^^e

I .

1^- - fj

:-.t-:?4¥(-

•zi^ ii/m

. r-:-*^"

The Life of the Caterpillar

done without creating a disturbance, the pro-
cession does not alter its ways at all. The
second caterpillar, promoted to captain,
knows the duties of his rank off-hand: he se-
lects and leads, or rather he hesitates and
gropes.

The breaking of the silk ribbon is not very
important either. I remove a caterpillar
from the middle of the file. With my scis-
sors, so as not to cause a commotion in the
ranks, I cut the piece of ribbon on which he
stood and clear away every thread of it. As
a result of this breach, the procession ac-
quires two marching leaders, each independent
of the other. It may be that the one in the
rear joins the file ahead of him. fro.ii which
he is separated by but a slender interval; in
that case, things return to their original con-
dition. More frequently, the two parts do not
become reunited. In that case, we have two
distinct processions, each of which wanders
where it pleases and diverges from the other.
Nevertheless, both will be able to return to
the nest by discovering sooner or later, in the
course of their peregrinations, the ribbon on
the other side of the break.

These two experiments are only moderately

68

The Processionary: the Processior,

™ '» a branch line 7f Th "p' "•" f''""'^''
«nJ (he silken raN .I , ' "•"""ionaries

'hem, ,vieh no wLl '"^' ''l" '" '"'"' "f
c--lnue on Z :::' ^e^:. ij^i, '^'" '".^^
•n /olIowiriLr a road fW ^"'^ P^^^'^^

'^n^I? What ue h'vctV'"'' '""'" ^" «"
C'-rcuit, which s unknc, v^ " 1 '" ^?'^"'' ^^'^

of the train, to^nj It ! Vh^'^'^^^u '' ^"^ '^^'^'^
to bring th; end of L °f ^>'^'^'"ff 'f ^"d
the caterpillar nnrchinVf.^ "'^ '^'-' ^^'- ^^
'•^ the thing is done fh" ^' "'''^ ^'^P^ "P°n
him faithfully The oue't '" "'" ^«"«^^
-n theory bul very dXuIt Tn " ^'"^- ^'"P'^
produces no useful results Tb ?k?'"'' ^"^
's extremely siiL^ht br. ?' , ^ "^''""' ^^hich

fhe Rrains'o t.nd ht sr t" '^^^ "^'^^^ °^
hfted with it Ifk ,t '"'^ '" 'f •''"d are
^^ 't does not break, the cater-
69

ill

.<r^sl^.

♦ ^- ,f'.«r;.'^'

w t

The Life of the Caterpillar

pillars at the back, however delicately we
may go to work, feel a disturbance which
makes them curl up or even let go.

There is a yet greater difficulty: the leader
refuses the ribbon laid before him; the cut
end makes him distrustful. Failing to see the
regular, uninterrupted road, he slants off to
the right or left, he escapes at a tangent. If
I try to interfere and to bring him back to
the path of my choosing, he persists in his re-
fusal, shrivels up, does not budge; and soon
the whole procession is in confusion. We
will not insist: the method is a poor one, very
wasteful of effort for at best a problematical
success.

We ought to interfere as little as possible
and obtain a natural closed circuit. Can it
be done ? Yes. It lies in our power, without
the least meddling, to see a procession march
along a perfect circular track. I owe this re-
sult, which is eminently deserving of our at-
tention, to pure chance.

On the shelf with the layer of sand in which
the nests are planted stand some big palm-
vases measuring nearly a yard and a hulf in
circumference at the top. The caterpillars
often seal; the sides and climb up to the

70

-*u.

The Processionary: the Procession

of landslUes /, o^r 7' """ '' "" ''"

'ow,- and a?:;; .rh/pt ru'se^ot^h^'i ''^-
zontal Dosifinn «,u- if • 7^^"se or the hori-

™e with a c'r^ar tract T'- .'' P^^'-^"
have nothing S do but „! ""dynade. I
propitious to my 1„T tL' °' '"■ °«"'°"
long in comin7 °""'°" '' ""'

^or?"t;i^t,:cVrt^d'ari2""'^^'-

iy, in single file^/■,'';P?"'^'•/<'■■"i«. Slow.

great vase''^" ^'^ t el?'"? f ""> "!'
reguar procession „vr r ** "dvance in

-iving';nd";::rt;:;uTntth" "ier'jr -r;'^

the string to close ,m ,1. ! • * ^'^ 'or

leader, who keeps ^fon"!' '° l'^' '°^ ''«=
moulding, to return /T"""? 'he circular
he started Mvohlr?-^\^°'V'°"' ""hich
of nn hour^^Scored'c'""^ '?'''"""'
magnihcently, in omethL "" " "'''"''
proaching a circle '""'""8 "'T «arly ap-

71

iJtl

The Life of the Caterpillar

The next ffiin|^ is to get rid of the rest
of the asceruliriK cohimn, which would disturb
the fine order of the procession hy an excess
of newcomers; it is also important that we
should do away with all the silken paths, both
new and old, that can put the cornice into
communication with the grouml. With a
thick hair-pencil I sweep away the surplus
climbers; with a bi^ brush, one that leaves
no smell behind it — for this mijrht after-
wards prove confusinjr — I carefully rub
down the vase and get rid of every
thread which the caterpillars have laid
on the march. When these prepara-
tions are finished, a curious sij^ht awaits
us.

In the uninterrupted circular procession
there is no longer a leader. Each caterpillar
is preceded by another on whose heels he fol-
lows, guided by the silk track, the work of
the whole party; he again has a companion
close behind him. following him m the same
orderly way. And this is repeated without
variation throughout the length of the chain,
None commands, or rather none modifies the
trail according to his fancy; all obey, trusting
in the guide who ought normally to lead the

72

The Proc.s,,io„„y: .he Procession
"••i-ch an,l nhn in rcihfv 1. i
I'y my frickcry * '"'" '"""' •''■olish,.,!

''^ ,"'-■••.1 as i, ' „ ""." '■^■"- <lnbl,lu,K

P^"-.' Will fh ,.,'.""', '"fP"'-"--. closed
■•"-n.! until thcir^straih '""^■■"'>' '''"""I .--n,!
„ rhc oW schooln'r w rff" ',"",™"-l>'?

-hen pr.cc<l bet/™'"; "n"'^^ "'"■•
starved fo dcaeh bJe" u he ":'"^' "(,''")■•
'Iccde in favour of d h' k l" ""^''''^ '"
equ.libriun, between two 7, '', ^■•■''"■"« ""■
»«raetions. They sla'T, fl *"" "W™'"
-"»'■ The Ass who ,-s „ " ""••""'•"»■ ^ni-
=ny one else, >vou d rc^l "to'tr /"' "t "'^"
l-y f-sting off both buS, : "W'i'r "' "'"^^

'J«n B„ri,la„ („„. " '" '"> Cater-

works.- /'raMjA^^^^.^y A^o/,., *° ^^ ^ound in any of his

73

i: -r =i»=

i,v-.?

I

The Life of the Caterpillar

pillars show a little of his mother wit? Will
they, after many attempts, be able to break
the equilibrium of their closed circuit, which
keeps them on a road without a turning?
Will they make up their minds to swerve to
this side or that, which is the only method of
reaching their bundle of hay, the green branch
yonder, quite near, not two feet off?

I thought that they would and I was
wrong. I said to myself:

"The procession will go on turning for
some time, for an hour, two hours perhaps;
then the caterpillars will perceive their mis-
take. They will abandon the deceptive road
and make their descent somewhere or other."
That they should remain up there, hard
pressed by hunger and the lack of cover,
when nothing prevented them from going
away, seemed to me inconceivable imbecility.
Facts, however, forced me to accept the in*
credible. Let us describe them in detail.

The circular procession begins, as I have
said, on the 30th of January, about midday,
in splendid weather. The caterpillars march
at an even pace, each touching the stern of the
one in front of him. The unbroken chain
eliminates the leader with his changes of direc-

74

?s®n:^'wr^fjr''^*ir^.

The Processionary th*. P,

^onl'nues for hours an Ih'''- ^"^^ ^^-'s
f "/ar beyon<? ' '"^•,'^,"""- My success

Meanwhile, rhe mult n ^ '•'"^. ^^"P^«^d-
t^e original rafi ntoT,..' r Lr'"'^' change
°^an inch hroad I ' '"P'^'-'; '*'f^^'^'" ^ twelffh

drawing .> I do,, and no 7' ^^^' ^^V '«
faken phce In th. •■ ^^'''^^^'on has yet

«^^g proof :-on:.;::^f;:;" ^' ^'^^ ^-''- ^

r^'-^ri^;^;'t^--.utone
down a Ifttle „„ " P^'" • ''"'ates and goes

"mice, remr„;;^'o^ttirr '"^f--- " 'he
f""!". I marked tiesVfl'"- "«'" '"'^''c.
t on ,„ pencil on the v/,, T, ^"'"'^ "' ''".n -
»" 'ha. ''fternoon and ml '""'«'• We.
"n 'he followinedav, l- I, ' ""'^'"sive sti''
m»d dance, I ^"^ Jf^ 18^' to the end of this

under the ledge aT th ??«"' "'"P"'^" dip
to the top again ^,,h ''"'.PO'nt and come
'hread is lail' h;„;''J ^'^ond. Once the fo
"ently established *" P""«d is per,„a.

?5

■ff^KW

I if "•*'

The Life of the Caterpillar

If the road does not vary, the speed does.
I measure nine centimetres' a minute as the
average distance covered. But there arc more
or less lengthy halts; the pace shickcns at
times, especially when the temperature falls.
At ten o'clock in the evening the walk is little
more than a lazy swaying of the l.ody. I
foresee an early halt, in consequence of the
cold, of fatigue and doubtless also of
hunger.

(irazing-time has arrived. The caterpil-
jars have come crowding from all the nests
in the greenhouse to browse upon the pine-
branches planted by myself beside the silken
purses. Those in the garden do the same,
for the temperature is mild. The others,
lined up along the earthenware cornice, would
gladly take part in the feast; they are bound
to have an appetite after a ten hours' walk.
The branch stands green and tempting not a
hand's breadth away. To reach it they need
but go down ; and the poor w .-etches, foolish
slaves of their ribbon that they are, car.not
make up their minds to do so. I leave the
famished ones at half-past ten, persuaded that
they will take counsel with their pillow and
^S'/i inches.— Translator's iWotc.

76

The Processionary: the Procession

^ was wronir. I wnc
"f them uhcn I [^n^^'TT"^ ^°« "^"ch

« ciistrcssful s ,^, nc I u '^' ^^-'^^''^^tJ^ns of

t" have arouse" I i:;;t'""%^^""'^^hink,

less. When the i.V ^ '*''• ''"^ "^"f'on-

^'-■y shake of he t!;:::"'^ '-^ '':^^'^ — e,-,

^valkinu- a,rai„. i'L '"^r; '•^•-^^ -uJ start

Kins aneu-, like tnt "T ''\^"'"'''''^'''' ^^-

secn. The;e s MO ''' ' ^''''' ^'''"^•ady

This tnt s"V>r''''"V''^^" ohstinaV
has supervend ^aJl'ri^^- ^'^ -'^^ snap
evening by the\r r "^"'^^ ^"''^"^"'d '■" the
^-ed t'o cLe'ouf S^r^P'''-^' -ho re-
to my duller senses se.rl.^^'"""'^^^ ^^h'<^h

the rosemary-walks arr.II /Y daybreak

and for the s'cond tm^'^' '"'''' ''''^ '"'''
sharp frost. The 1^ ^'' /'''' '^''<'' ''« a
'•s frozen ov.M^^vfc

^hc conservatory be I-:"/' V^^^f''''^'" -
see. ■ '""^- i^t-t us go and

'"' =■" "■""-"' ■■" "■- nests, except the

77

41

*1

'^«i

€3

The Life of the Caterpillar

stubborn processionists on the edge of the
vase, who, deprived of shelter as they are,
seem to have spent a very bad night. I find
them clustered in two heaps, without any at-
tempt at order. They have suffered less from
the cold, thus huddled together.

Tis an ill wind that blows nobody any
good. The severity of the night has caused
the ring to break into two segments which
will, perhaps, afford a chance of safety. Each
group, as it revives and resumes its walk, will
presently be headed by a leader who, not being
obliged to follow a caterpillar in front of him,
will possess some liberty of movement and
perhaps be able to make the procession swerve
to one side. Remember that, in the ordinary'
processions, the caterpillar walking ahead acts
as a scout. While the others, if nothing oc-
curs to create excitement, keep to their ranks,
he attends to his duties as a leader and is con-
tinually turning his head to this side and that,
investigating, seeking, groping, making his
choice. And things happen as he decides : the
band follows him faithfully. Remember also
that, even on a road which has already been
travelled and beribboned, the guiding cater-
pillar continues to explore.

78

•;^'-;:;'^^v^'

The Processionary: the Procession

-^i" find a chance of ^71'' °" ""? ''''«'
"atchthem. On reco. ..■ r "'■ ^M us
Por, the two eroum T ^^ /'''"" '^"'- '"r-
two distinct fifer'^Th'"' "P by degrees ,„,o
leaders, free to go It/e th' "T'"^' "^''
pendent of each other VVinTh/''"'' '•"/'-
"ymg the enchanted circ I tlh^'^t^ "'
their large Mack hp,T 4' ™ sight of
from side to side la™' 7^'!!^ ^""'""''v
for a moment But In ""• '° '^'"'^ '°
A/ the ranlcs (ill out th°°". "'"'eceived.
"f the chain me" and th ■ '7° '«'™^
"ituted. The moLntl I T''' '" 'econ-
become simple suZTZ '"'^"' °"ee more
«ten,i||ars ma ch ^"f?^' ""'' -8='" the
day. " """d and round all

whS'i^v^rcalm"'; I" '"««»'■''"• 'he night,
brings a har3^f"tr t^?'=8"'«eently stafry

cessionaries on the t„h ,1 ""'"i'"^ ">= P™-
bave camped "ou'unshdterL""'' """u^""
■nto a heap which large! ovel''-*''^
°f the fatal ribbon I ""^""""^ both sides

=^'''"-8 °f the numb d ols'^^The T "'^
•'•^e the road is, as luck wil? have'it.^tid:

■if*

/^

fiMs^i'-^'^^i^'^'ri-^

Il'^t!

The Life of the Caterpillar

the track. Hesitatingly he ventures into un-
known ground. He reaches the top of the
rim and descends upon the other side on the
earth in the vase. He is followed by six
others, no more. Perhaps the rest of the
troop, who hav^e not fully recovered from
their nocturnal torpor, are to la/.y to bestir
themselves.

The result of this brief delay is a return
to the old track. The caterpillars embark on
the silken trail and the circular march is re-
sumed, this time in the form of a ring with
a gap in it. There is no attempt, however, to
strike a new course on the part of the guide
whom this gap has placed at the head. A
chance of stepping outside the magic circle has
presented itself at last; and he does not know
how to avail himself of it.

As for the caterpillars who have made their
way to the inside of the vase, their lot is hard-
ly improved. They climb to the top of the
palm, starving and seeking for food. Finding
nothing to eat that suits them, they retrace
their steps by following the thread which the\
have left on the way, climb the ledge of the
pot, strike the procession again and, without
further anxiety, slip back into the ranks.

80

The Proc«.io„ary: the Procession

dragged along in an /nHP °^ P"'"' '""'s
hellish cham,^- "broke„ ['" "'T'' """' 'h'
»"«er. What drop will »„!. r ''''''P "^ ''°h

and bring them bacT „ °h ""'? "•^''- "^''■•de
'r means of con iur^n^ ,.""'' ' ^« ""Ix
'-'"ing a release from h! .• •'""•l ""> °^-

'■"k'ng of cause and X" frt„ '^ ''™"8^
"retchedness good is to come '"™" """^

And, first, shrivellins a, ,L
f he caterpillars cather^, ■" '""'' "^ "W-
"rder, heap theS " T*" "''''""^ •■'ny

Among the latter there ml I '"^"'^ '*■
'^J some revolution;;"! '':• '°°"" "^
beaten track, will trace?^, T ' "'"•"'"g the
l'»d the troop back bn ' »'" ™^d and
\«n =n instance of it c'- ^"^ <>"- i"«
'he interior of the v,.,' , if" '"^""rated to
T.™e, it ,vas an attemnt ''l'"'"''' "'^ P^l-".
t" »n attempt. 1^7 ""? "" '•«"lt, but

'ha' need be done would h°vTb"' '"""'' »"

" nave been to take the

8l

t ■ .

* ' ''

■.».». .'J

I

The Life of the Caterpillar

opposite slope. An even chance Is a great
thing. Another time we shall be more suc-
cessful.

In the second place, the exhaustion due to
fatigue and hunger. A lame one stops,
unable to go farther. In front of the de-
faulter the procession still continues to wend
its way for a short time. The ranks close
up and an empty space appears. On coming
to himself and resuming the march, the cater-
pillar who has caused the breach becomes a
leader, having nothing before him. The least
desire for emancipation is all that he wants
to make him launch the band into a new path
which perhaps will be the saving path.

In short, when the Processionaries' train
is in difficulties, what it needs, unlike ours, is
to run off the rails. The side-tracking Is left
to the caprice of a leader who alone is capable
of turning to the right or left; and this leader
is absolutely non-existent so long as the ring
remains unbroken. Lastly, the breaking of the
circle, the one stroke of luck, is the result of
a chaotic halt, caused principally by excess of
fatigue or cold.

The liberating accident, especially that of
fatigue, occurs fairly often. In the course of

82

The Processionary: the Procession

the same dav fh*. «, •
^.'■' up severj times Tt'"^, ^'^cumference is
''<"'».• but continue; soon ™ "■■ ""•" »«•
■change takes place TV ""''"' '"^ "o
»?'"«• The bo d ,-n„ovat„7l^" °" '"" ">^
»'t""ion has not ZtlTtu-^- " '° »"= ""e

There is noth „f net'on'th"'?''""'?"-
\ft" an icy night like Th ^ °""^ ''^X-
"•ing to tell excVp, the foil '"'"""'' ""'■• »"-
J"day I did no "Remove h?;"^ ''?='''• '^"-
/r caterpillars whoTade th'-" '''' ''^ "■'
■ns.de of the vase Tt^A "'^"' «■">■ '<> the
? /unction connecting it vi,';7^ '°6«her with
IS discovered in th? 1 , "^"''^ular road

Half the tro„; take, ad "' "' '^' ""''"'"S-
'he earth in the pot and?l"T.°^ '' '" "^^
other half remain"^ on ?he'T ""' P"'™' "-=
to walk along ,he dd rail t' l"'^ ™""'""es
the band of tmiL^t"-' ■ " ""^ afternoon
circuit is con,pTeted "nVt?'"' ""^ '"^"'' "-e
original condition ^^' ''""'■'' to their

f-herr:„:^,,itt[th ^^.' "■*

?» yet reaching the IrTl ^""^ however
l">ved by brighf s n hfnc ""l™?- ^' '^ M-
l^y- As soon as eh u"^. "rls h^ """^ '™P'''
'"^ P-« a little, the c t ,t:,;^7^„^

'If

ill

'I 9

'^ ■"»■-.

The Life of the Caterpillar

heaps, wake up and resume their evolutions
on the ledge of the vase. This time the fine
order of the beginning is disturbed and a cert-
ain disorder becomes manifest, apparently an
omen of deliverance near at hand. The
scouting-path inside the vase, which was up-
holstered in silk yesterday and the day before,
is to-day followed to its origin on the rim
by a part of the band and is then abandoned
after a short loop. The other caterpillars
follow the usual ribbon. The result of this
bifurcation is two almost equal files, walking
along the ledge in the same direction, at a
short distance from each other, sometimes
meeting, separating farther on, in every case
with some lack of order.

Weariness increases the confusion. The
crippled, who refuse to go on, are many.
Breaches increase; files are split up into sec-
tions each of which has its leader, who pokes
the front of h-s body this way and that to
explore the giound. Everything seems to
point to the disintegration which will bring
safety. My hopes are once more dis^^ -
pointed. Before the night the single file is
reconstituted and the invincible gyration re-
sumed.

84

n

The Processionary: the Procession

did" T^daT'thi"!':, pt''"'^ " "'= "'-1
ful, mild day Th °' ^'''™">'' '.' » beauti-
life M.. ; greenhouse s /ull of

the ring on the^ ledl f .'u ""'' '""'"'"f.

and col,"Che.fga "'^"1''^'" "''
I see darinir |p.,H,„ u , "" ""t hme

standing only on th!ir\°'.""'' "'"■ •"«■
extreme edge of ItJl" P™''^'' " "-e
themselves forw,M-."''™"'"' "■"■ «ing
'oundin^ he dep hs tT"'' ^ '"'"« "^"^
quently„p=ated whileS,/ Tl"™" " '""

perfidious silken nlth d, " """*"« '" "-e
-pe to g^X'tt'ol-drS^ ''--''

chal'g^tsaloufa'Sirr t 'T''
on the side of the vase 7, L u if""" '°"8

^He .ttempth- fateX, , .^Xro;

8S

1
« ■

pi

fci^'

111

i

^;>

j

The Life of the Caterpillar

the vase, not nine inches away, there lay a
bunch of pine-needles which I had placed
there with the object of enticing the hungry
ones. Smell and sight told them nothing.
Near as they were to the goal, they went up
again.

No matter, the endeavour has its uses.
Threads were laid on the way and will serve
as a lure to further v'nterprisc. The road of
deliverance has its first landmarks. And two
days later, on the eighth day of the experi-
ment, the caterpillars — now singly, anon in
small groups, then again in strings of some
length — cone down from the ledge by
following the staked-out path. At sun-
set the last of the laggards is back in the
nest.

Now for a little arithmetic. For seven
times twenty-four hours the caterpillars have
remained on the ledge of the vase To make
an ample allowance for stops due to the weari-
ness of this one or that and above all for the
rest taken during trie colder hours of the night,
we will deduct one-half of the time. This
leaves eighty-four hours' walking. The
average pace is nine ceptimcrres* a minute.

*3/4 inches. — Translator's \'ote.

86

The Proce«ionary: th. Proce«io„

°'' mile, which hllZT '^? " 1""'"

^f perimeter of the ,17 *■'"" °' "" "»«■
Therefore the circ e cotr^ ""J''^ ' "■■ '''

- ^i-crihed th.^ti^/;„'5-, -^,

»f insects as a claTs wh *■?"' ""Pidity

dent occurs, it,! TneT "T "" '"« ""^
whether the Process.onart? '" "»'' ™>'^'f
'here so long by thTdM i'""' "°' ''^P' »P
°f the descent rather ,fu.' "'"' ''"gers
gleam ofintJCtlinX"-^'''^ ''''' "f W
The facts. hoXerreptThrf '"5'^ """<'«
«|,J_sy as the asclm. '^^ "" '''^""t i,

'•daptTfStt'ro'undr"-'''''' ''«''• -"
P-ng underneath. He can ^ u'"-?"' °' '''?■
"« vertically or horiZ, n^ "'^^ '^' "me
down or up.*^ Beside h'"''' """> ^'" hack
""d until he has fi"'ed ."'''I'' '"°'" f""-
ground. ^Vith ,h s sun„n 1' "'?»'' '° the

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gas (716) 288 - 5989 - Fox

The Life of the Caterpillar

has no falls to fear, no matter what his

position. ,

I had a proof of this before my eyes du-
ring a whole week. As I have already said,
the track, instead of keeping on one level,
bends twice, dips at a certain point under the
ledge of the vase and reappears at the top a
little farther on. At one part of the cir-
cuit, therefore, the procession walks on the
lower surface of the rim; and this inverted
position implies so little discomfort or dan-
ger that it is renewed at each turn for all
the caterpillars from first to last.

It is out of the question then to suggest
the dread of a false step on the edge of the
rim which is so nimbly turned at each point of
inflexion. The caterpillars in distress, starved,
shelterless, chilled with cold at night, ding
obstinately to the silk ribbon covered hun-
dreds of times, because they lack the rudi-
mentary glimmers of reason which would
advice them to abandon it. . . •

Experience and reflection are not in their
province. The ordeal of a five hundred yards'
march and three to four hundred turns teach
them nothing; and it takes casual circum-
stances to bring them back to the nest. They

88

Whl^^^^m*^

The Process} on ary : the Procession

would perish on their insidious ribbon if the
disorder of the nocturnal encampments and
the halts due to fatigue did not cast a few
threads outside the circular pa-h. Some three
or four move along these tra,k, laid without
an object stray a ,:rtle way and, thanks to
their wanden: =, prepare the descent, which
IS at ast accomplished in short strings fa-
voured by chance.

The school most highly honoured to-day is
very anxious to find the origin of reason in
the dregs of the animal kingdom. Let me
call Its attention to the Pine Processionary.

'4- 1

Bg

m.

CHAPTER IV

THE PINE PROCESSIONARY: METEOROLOGY

TN JANUARY a second moult occurs,
A leaving the caterpillar less fair to the eye,
while at the same time endowing him with
some very peculiar organs. When the mo-
ment has come to shed their skins, the Pro-
cessionaries cluster higgledy-piggledy on the
dome of the nest and there, if the weather
be mild, remain motionless day and night. It
would seem as though the fact of their con-
tact, of their mutual discomfort, while thus
heaped together, furnishes a resistance, a ful-
crum, which favours the process of excoriation.
After this second moult, the hairs on the
middle of the back are of a dull reddish
colour, which is made paler still by the inter-
position of numerous long white hairs. But
this faded costume is accompanied by the
singular organs which attracted the attention
of Reaumur, who was greatly perplexed as
to their function. In the place originally oc-
cupied by the scarlet mosaic, eight segments
of the caterpillar are now cleft by a broad

QO

7>:mk'

The Processionary: Meteorology

a tumour w'thf(in''e"r„l^''?'''"? "<""''» "»«
'he creature war" ;™ •'■'""'""• ""-ough
and inflating T/or tr'"^ '" ""'f" '"^'de
that wl,icl, would be preseTdT".'' ''.''"°"
protruding throuffh «k:„ • " j .^ ''" "««"
Two largf da °k"&j"'"'<' '"' 'he scalpel.

foce of fhe pttubr„ce ^'ir^r l!"/™'"
two short. Hat f.,ffc ? ^ ^"^ ^ack are

!nthe.u;,i^hVshte"t™hTrtr'b"^,^'''^''
All around i, a radiating border of 1^^ 2^-
haira spread almost flat "^ '^'"'«

AtThe's&S> '"""■"y -"-tive.
disappearfund Th d™ i^" '" '^''" '"^
place opens an Zltter T"'"'''. {" ''''
"oma, which swiftly brfng 'it's C,°' ''."«'
doses and entirely dislptars '^T^^'f"'
white ha rs that fL™ PP^'"- The long

Perial around'^L-s'routh'^fXftr"'' ™

Stin°g^trcr"^? ^'- «-

i.ai.risfli.e^:err-^y;;|«^«;;t;hese

ail

^?

't t

i vm

■U'2«|^.

The Life of the Caterpillar

has caught from beneath and meet to form a
transversal crest, perpendicular to the crea-
ture's back.

This hairy erection produces a sudden
modification in the caterpillar's aspect. The
red shiny bristles have disappeared, buried
under the dark skin; the white hairs, now
standing on end, form a hirsute mane; an
ashy tinge has crept into the general colour
of the costume.

When calm is restored, as soon happens,
the slits open and yawn afresh; the sensitVe
protuberances emerge, quick to disappear
once more should any cause for alarm occur.
These alternate expansions and contractions
are rapidly repeated. I provoke them at will
m various ways. A slight puff of tobacco-
smoke immediately causes the stomata to
yawn and the protuberances to emerge. One
would think that the insect was putting itself
on its guard and displaying some special ap-
paratus of information. Before long the pro-
tuberances go in again. A second puff of
smoke brings them out once more. But, if
the smoke is too abundant, too acrid, the
caterpillar wriggles and writhes without open-
ing his apparatus.

9a

-iKi5t'.r-.*';'

i'^'i»&?l'

The Processionary: Meteorology

a bit of straT The n- "l ^'"''>'' """■

horns of the s"ail a„7 ■'"'° T'"' '"'' "-e
ping mouth, wh?ch •„!'' 'f 'f '•^''' l-y " g»-
but not alwavrthe ''°'''- ^'"''"y.

contact of my «rat u ^v'"' ."'"^<' l-^ "•'

both front a^nd back 7hT^^ '^' '"''««•
Paratus one by one ^' ^^"^ ^'"'^ 'heir ap-

PilKeneSiivha'/t^"? '" ^P"-' 'he cater-
■n moving hesometim'. ™' ''''' ^^P"'''=d;
closes thfm ?n " the T"' '"'^ '°"'"™«
contraction are freoueLl '"P""'''™ ""^
«antly coming togetKn 'T'''^' ^°'-
'he skin, the lins ^f !fc '"'' Wreatrng under

therefor; end fy tjt ,T""^''^ "P^'-e
t«hes of russet hairsTh^ I ,, "■ ,'"■'«'' """-s-

way a sort of dust coT£ atlh t' '" ""■'
the c ater a H.,.. , '^"f at the bottom of

which, thanks toXjirTt °' '"•"''=" hairs,
little tLfts Whe^*".!"^ '^Y''^' »°°n collect into

t"'x. the cS pr'oi«tirt""'"^">'-
.olden atoms higST^-ere ^o^ ob!

93

.5 j

■:*.>-^;-;^f. Tii2'^'i«-:-^'*!j»:*i^

The Life of the Caterpillar

server. I shall have something to say
presently of the itch to which he is at such
times exposed.

Are these peculiar stomata designed merely
to collect the adjoining bristles and to grind
them to powder? Are these fine-skinned
papilla, which inflate and ascend from the
depths of their hiding-place, intended to get
rid of the accumulation of broken hairs? Or
is it the sole function of this peculiar ap-
paratus to prepare, at the expense of the cater-
pillar's fleece, an irritant dust which shall act
as a means of defence? Nothing tells us so.
Certainly the caterpillar is not armed
against the enquirer who from time to time
takes it into his head to come and examine
him through a magnifying-glass. It is even
very doubtful whether he troubles at all about
those passionate caterpillar-lovers, Calosoma
sycophanta^ among insects and the Cuckoo
among birds. Those who consume such fare
have a stomach expressly fashioned for the
purpose, a stomach that laughs at blistering
hairs and possibly finds an appetizing stimu-
lant in their sting. No, I do not see the mo-
tives that prompted the Processionary to
*A large carnivorous Beti\t.— Translator's Note.

94

^

IW^W

The Prccessionary : Meteorology

be something else ir<iJf„r "■"«""-'/
Keaumur mention.! tu

which he made TSs.u , He"'n^\ °'
stigmata and is inrlinli . '■, "^ ""« 'h^m

"Ptional brea;hi gt e, rt 't"" '"' «•
O my master- no l„l . ■ ' ''"^>' ""« "ot,

its back! Mo'reov r Th ""'^"'.".''•'-'■oles on
veals no channe" of'.n '""8."">""S-8'"s re-

'•n;".w. Ctti ;X™:rpr h-"> '<;»

-^olut,on of the enigma mu't I,e e sewt?; '^'

pan^e^c^^erarr:!;^' t%'™ "^^^^^^

hairless membrane lh°r"' °^ " '"''• P^'e,

of a visceraThern ; t tb^'T '^ ™P^«''°n
were wounded a 'd II """"Sh the caterpillar

trails to the at Th.*^"""^ "^ *''"'^ ^n-
is great The'i; I, ''"^'''veness just here

of 'a hair-penci tr" '^^^ "'•"■ '> P"'"'
drawing of the proa .. ., .' ,'Tf *«' .'"•
of the containing li, ' ' ""^ '""^ <^'osing

The touch of a «

'":vi^of^tt"L-£^-;'^--^
p-nt this d^; t^thrst -[i^tvt^i-^.

9S

i

( .,

A'-. *''.««>;■ ^

■••**„

The Life of the Caterpillar

At the moment when contact occurs the ap-
paratus contracts and closes up. The recoil
of the Snail's horns, withdrawing the visual
and olfactory organs into their sheaths, is no
prompter.

Everything seems to prove that these op-
tional tumours, appearing anu disappearing
at the caterpillar's will, are instruments of
sensorial perception. The caterpillar exposes
them to obtain information; he shelters them
under his skin to preserve their delicate func-
tions. Nov/ what is it that they perceive?
This is a difficult question, in which the habits
of the Processionary alone can afford us a
little guidance.

During the whole winter, the Pine Cater-
pillars are active only at night. In the day-
time, when the weather is fine, they readily
repair to the dome of the nesl and there re-
main motionless, gathered into heaps. It is
the hour of the open-air siesta, under the pale
December and January sun. As yet none
leaves the home. It is quite late in the even-
ing, towards nine o'clock, when they set out,
marching in an irregular procession, to browse
on the leaves of the branches hard by. Their
grazing is a protracted affair. The flock re-

96

^ The Proc«.io„„^, Meteorology

■Ing the roughest' moth''"'L "^ *'-""• d-
"°nar,- display" hLr»'- "■" "■= '''■ ce.-
Wy « this ti^o yi'r""'^- '"defatfg,.

'■me, whenever the wea t^ ■'."'■ " thf,

'-■es abroad on the n tl '"r"""- >" ven.

By a very remarkahu ^". "'''"■ "' S'fk-
'"son marked by „ac Lr^P'r,"' "■' '■»«'•
PO", in other inJ.c"Tf'/h-"'^l"^"^'' ^'-
bustle and labour o„ 1 j™ ""= «^s™ of

">« the inclemen ies of th """' u"' """=•
"ceed certain lin,i n't' """•" do „o
•oo vi„,e„„y, ^ ^^- /,!f^ north wind blow

floek away; if the cold be ton „ '""'P ''«

'h"e ,s a riak of free"' to7T"f- '" ">"

Of ram, or if the m... .■?•."'• ''^" snow,

drizzle, the cat.rn'^ "'"'"" '"'o an ,cv

•■o-e, si.'".„?f P^'^:" Pn-dently ,tay 7t

tent. ^ """" 'neir weatherproof

dreads them. A droD of • ^ ^^t^rpilJar

""""•• » --"^^A^rtrhit;- %i

97

l«-

<• 7

R 1

'i

ii

.l^jj

a:^'- >

The Life of the Caterpillar

start for the grazing-grounds at dark of night,
in uncertain weather, would be dangerous, for
the procession goes some distance and travels
slowly. The flock would fare ill before re-
gaining shelter did any sudden atmospheric
trouble supervene, an event of some frequency
in the bad season of the year. So that he
may be informed in this particular during his
nocturnal winter rambles, can the Pine Cater-
pillar be endowed with some sort of meteoro-
logical aptitudes? I.'': us describe how the
suspicion occurred to me.

Divulged I know not how, my rearing of
caterpillars under glass acquired a certain re-
nown. It was tailed about in the village.
The forest-ranger, a sworn enemy to de-
structive insects, wanted to see the grazing of
the famous caterpillars, of whom he had re-
tained a too poignant memory ever since the
day when he gathered and destroyed their
nests in a pine-wood under his charge. It
was arranged that he should call the same
evening.

He arrives at the appointed hour, accom-
panied by a friend. For a moment we sit
and chat in front of the fire; then, when the
clock strikes nine, the lantern is lit and we

98

y.M

^'le Processiona - )\/r.»
'■"rd such »on,lcr ,,!,•■ "' "1"''' ''''y h" c

"'■«'!'« 'hey cai;r „ t' \"'' "" "-c prcvfou^
'p-"'gl>t not „„e reveal »>•'" ""■"••»«;
'h" they are mere y Tat t""-'- ^'" '' te
C»n (heir habitual p„„'',rrL"'^ '" <"""«'■?

"">e appetite ha, n^f ".*' ""^ « f"' be.

he patient. '"'" ""J" »7 ved? We ,„„«

J^'"^"- Still nothing Mi?, '!"[''■ Nothing.

."-hen we abandoned tur„^f I,*'" "" '' •'""'I

" '-""Id be vain to pr„ ont'th """""'' "■«
"n imagine whnf ,„ l"^ ""^ '"""g- Vou

" havinf thus tc end n'"' '""' ' '""^"^
,N"t day I though? ,ha.!T,^"'^-
'h? explanation of ,hi j ,! ™'>' P""''"'''
ramed in the nieht anH ''"''PP°'""nent. It

Snow not the trfet '„*?'".'" ''" "T'^K"
I'" the most abundant whV /I"' ''« »°

'he Ventoux.. Had 'the atr tnt' ''™" "'
o 'Th. higiie,, „„ . . "'erpillars, more

99

' V- '^^^*c^8B^'.fs.f3a'T*'^2aiifi«K.->::af. ^

;"■ *«'•»%

The Life of the Caterpillar

sensitive than any of us to atmospheric
changes, refused to venture forth because they
anticipated what was about to happen? Had
they foreseen the rain and the snow, which
nothing seemed to announce, at all events to
us? After all, why not? Let us continue to
observe them and we shall see whether the
coincidence is fortuitous or not.

On this memorable day, therefore, the 13th
of December, 1895, I institute the caterpil-
lars' meteorological observatory. I have at
my disposal absolutely none of the apparatus
dear to science, not even a modest ther-
mometer, for my unlucky star continues in the
ascendant, proving as unkind to-day as when
I learnt chemistry with pipe-bowls for cruci-
bles and bottles that once contained sweets for
retorts. I confine myself to visiting nightly
the Processionaries in the greenhouse and
those in the garden. It is a hard task, espe-
cially as I have to go to the far end of the
enclosure, often in weather when one would
not turn a Dog out of doors. I set down
the acts of the caterpillars, whether they come
out or stay at home; I note the state of the
sky during the day and at the moment of my
evening examination.

100

^ssx

The Processionary : Meteorology

Normal School at a!^ ' ' ''^''''"' '^e

trical records of ,"t i""'''"'^". 'he barome-
•''-., docur:;:;f~;^ These are

n>e':tzrT;ratir'"°'''^'-^''«

meteorological insS has two' ""^P'"""'
■" the greenhouse and one r,h '™' '^ ™'
on the pines i„ ,he enclosure T^' T" "'•
tected against the wind and rl- ^!" t''' ^'°-
I prefer: it provide 1' "'"•," ">" "-hich

continuous St 0""^ tr th"' "■°"
»"■ caterpillars often enouth t ' "P^""
°"t, even though th,^ .'''^''"^ '" come
favourable K t„f k""' .""ditions be
home if there be tn""^**" '° ''"P 'hem at
the boughs, or even a ,:r^ '■ ^'"^ '^'^'^«
on the web of the „ J f ?'°'?7 ''"PP'"g
two perils fl,, L ^^''ed from these

only to on^der^?"'"'r "terpillars have

higher^ord ''"Th TS™ ''^"'^'^'^ "^ »
them; the great aloL u ""I'-t'ons escape

then,., a m^ lst7 p'ot^oVXT " °"
-d «o,„g a long wa? towa'^ds'^:,"';,",;-

lOI

''I

"IS

The Life of the Caterpillar

problem for him. The colonies under glass,
therefore, provide most of the material for my
notes; the colonies in the open air add their
testimony, which is not always quite clear.

Now what did they tell me, those green-
house caterpillars who, on the 13th of Decem-
ber, refused to show themselves to my guest,
the forest-ranger? The rain that was to fall
that night could hardly have alarmed them :
they were so well sheltered. The snow about
to whiten Mont Ventoux was nothing to
them : it was so far away. Moreover, it was
neither snowing yet nor raining. Some ex-
traordinary atmospheric event, profound and
of vast extent, must have been occurring.
The charts in the Temps and the bulletin of
the Normal School told me as much.

A cyclonic disturbance, coming from the
British Isles, was passing over our district ; an
atmospheric depression the like of which the
season had not as yet known, had spread in
our direction, reaching us on the 13th and
persisting, in a more or less accentuated form,
until the 22nd. At Avignon the barometer
suddenly fell half an inch, to 29.1 in., on
the 13th and lower still, to 29 in., on the
19th.

IQ2

*.w.J

The Processionary: Meteorology

violent gusts of T. ? "'" ""'' some

«ky was superb and .r ? "'^'"" "'''^" '^e
«te. The nruln, l '^P^^ure moder-

low the^Xstl^tgh't" T1 "- ='■

:";pefeiT^"--"-^--^^^^^^^^

unexpected tS L"' "'"™^'' =" «-' f-V 'he
reassured th mseTves?n^7"^ '•""''"* ^ad

ing nothing, TnZ;? t-'™'? "'"*' '"'•
would have^ uffered out n'f 7' °' '"^'' ""ey
»nd furious mis ral u ts ,17^^' '""^
P'nded their wort »„?■ ~I "'' ^'' '""^n sus-
bad weather i'crted "^'" "" "'"'"' "^

melt''betj«j"he'^„'ji/'"'^ "«"""= 'Sree-

103

i. its

:[ W

/!^

■•'#»

,*:ii-*

The Life of the Caterpillar

on the 19th, the night of the lowest press-
ure, 29 m., not a caterpillar ventures out-
side.

As the wind and rain can have no effect
on my colonies under glass, one is led to sup-
pose that atmospheric pressure, with its
physiological results, so difficult to define, is
here the principal factor. As for the tem-
perature, within moderate limits there is no
need to discuss it. The Processionaries have
a robust constitution, as behoves spinners who
work in the open air in midwinter. However
piercing the cold, so long as it does not freeze,
when the hour comes for working or feeding
they spin on the surface of the nest or browse
on the neighbouring branches.

Another example. According to the me-
teorological chart in the Temps, a depression
whose centre is near the lies Sanguinaires, at
the entrance of the Gulf of Ajaccio, reaches
my neighbourhood, with a minimum of 29 2
in., on the 9th of January. A tempestuous
vvind gets up. For the first time this year
there is a respectable frost. The ice on th-
large pond in the garden is two or three inches
thick. This wild weather lasts for five days
Of course, the garden caterpillars do not

!04

The Procession..,r>.: Meteorology

°« of their ne«s e?,her A h" ""'venture
fliere are „o bough In„ /'* ^'"" "-em
cold piercing bevonrf , l^erously shaken, no
.free^ing unferX i," "'^r'/,!'^ '■' " "«
'" can be only the fa/,L ?",.''"P' 'hem
depression. On the , rT u^ """ «■»« of
and the barometer remf- f' "°"" «ases;
30 in. for the r« 0^7 "T"" ^9« ""d
P« of February 0^177^ .'"'^ ' K<>od
'here are maeniLnf I .? ^" '""« Pe"od
especiaily in Z'tZZT "'^ '-"«■

,^e^;'tet?:,Utt:p^';t-'^' -'^-

for no aoDarmf . P "' home aeain

■.„j "Pparent reason. f)f ,1,. • »■""'
under cover, only two have » f "" ""'*
P'llars out on the nin, k I ^"' '"^ "ter-
0"sly. in the ca e oF I ^1^^"'"'' P^'""
o «e the leaves bendlg u'nderfh '^"-^ [!'«•"
^n mnumerable multitude w*' T^^ht of
forecast, I enter in my notes ""' ""^ ">'»
."'"'"' ''"P -^^P-ion ifabout to reach
A"d I have guessed right. Two days later

^f

US

■^*

!'''«N..^,

The Life of the Caterpillar

sure enough, the meteorological record of the
Temps gives me the folio ving information:
a minimum of 29.2 in., coming from the Bay
of Biscay on the 22nd, reaches Algeria on
the 23rd and spreads over the Provence
coast on the 24th. There is a heavy snow-
fall at Marseilles on the 25th.

'The ships," I read in my paper, "present
a curious spectacle, with their yards and rig-
ging white. That is how the people of Mar-
seilles, little used to such sights, picture Spitz-
bergen and the North Pole."

Here certainly is the gale which my cater-
pillars foresaw when they refused to go out
last night and the night before; here is the
centre of disturbance which revealed itself at
Serignan Ly a violent and icy north wind on
the 25th and the following days. Again I
perceive that the greenhouse caterpillars are
alarmed only at the approach of the wave
of atmospheric disturbance. Once the first
uneasiness caused by the depression had
abated, they came out again, on the 25th and
the following days, In the r.idst of the gale,
as though nothing extraordinary were hap-
pening.

106

The Proeessionary: Meteorology

excursioL. ™ "''"^'' '^""'^ ™P"il his

soo^'Von 'tt" ^" "="""8 bad weather very
Whin we had J"^"^'"-"' "" '""■"'"'Id
provision,^ tbeeamX^T^' '° ™™ "-

the night before Tndt,"' "■"""" ^'""
H;,.t «f '=""^^' and, according to his ver

n:verVel"e7:;"7n\h?"'"^' "''""^
^^>k..h.t wete?e, IZtTr^^^-^
to interrogate the Dor-beetle ',„ ^i!'^
doughty nocturnal worker. Bu 'a |i h! d"
morahzed by imprisonment in a caL anH
parently devoid of any specll ITJ '^'

fn'r ';^d^'°™'"« ''' '-°'-^"~e:vr

piua' who' ;?c^rd7ri":lf^ ""•": ^«"-

son of the year and .^d^ a """^^'"^ »"■
■G„, . endowed, as everything

107

i;.'

***#»

..ll

The Life of the Caterpillar

would seem to affirm, with organs quick to
perceive the great atmospheric fluctuations.

Rural lore abounds in meteorological fore-
casts derived from animals. The Cat, sit-
ting in front of the fire and washing behind
her ears with a saliva-smeared paw, fore-
tells another cold snap; the Cock, crowing at
unusual hours, announces the return of fine
weather; the Guinea-fowl, with her screech-
ing, as of a scythe on the grindstone, points to
rain; the Hen, Dtanding on one leg, her plu-
mage ruffled, her head sunk on her neck, feels
a hard frost coming; the pretty green Tree-
frog inflates his throat like a bladder at
the approach of a storm and, according to
the Provencal peasant, says:

"Ploura.ploura; it will rain, it will rain!"
This rustic meteorology, the heritage of the
centuries, does not show up so badly beside
our scientific meteorology.

Are not we ourselves living barometers?
Eve;y veteran complains of his glorious
scars when the weather is about to break.
One man, though unwounded, suffers from
msomnia or from bad dreams , another,
though a brain-worker, cannot drag an idea
out of his impotent head. Each of us, in

io8

T^m^'^M.

The Proccssionary: Meteorology

his own way, is tried by the passai.*. n( fk

press on? It l« .mk r l, '^'"^ °' '"'-
r i> "II . It IS unbelievab e Th,. .'^c- *

more than any ocher ceature shouM K '

animated meteoroIoLncal Inc/ ' "^ ^^^ ^"

ful in its forecasf V '"'^''""1^"^ as truth-

them a thri fe e ; T' ^"'^' ^°^ ^° '"^^d
vator.r with thl- '"'''^"^^"^^ o^ our obser-

Ail. i^diff" en d LTefr "' ^'^^'^ ^^^«"^-
pressionability analolu.r"''' ' ^'"^'•^' '"^'
cised without the a d^nf °^"'" °^" '"^ ^^^^-
better-gifted ecause n^'vl' ' °'"^'"'- S^"'^'
might Ll be furnfh ^ '" ""^^^ ^^ ^'^^'
logical apparatus. '^ ^' ™«eoro.

The Pine Processionarv seems r„ k.i
th.s numter. I„ his ^JJ.7 ° '""? '"
the segments bear n„ X-"'' ««"n-^. when

eleganfred mosaic h. Iff'"' ''°""' ''"' ""
other caterpHlar ' 'k I '" =PP»«ntly from

eral impresTn W i, ' untr thif ""''• ^l""

109

*?'

:j"

The Life of the Caterpillar

dition is nearly always clement. The really
formidable nights hardly set in before Janu-
ary. But then, as a safeguard in his pere-
grinations, the Pine Processionary cleaves his
back with a ser* s of mouths which yawn open
to sample the air from time to time and to
give a warning of the sudden storm.

Until further evidence is forthcoming,
therefore, the dorsal slits are, to my mind,
meteorological instruments, barometeiS in-
fluenced by the main fluctuations of the atmo-
sphere. To go beyond suspicions, though
these are well based, is for me impossible. I
lack the equipment necessary to delve more
deeply into the subject. But I have given a
hint. It is for those who are better favoured
in the matter of resources to find the final solu-
tion of this interesting problem.

1X0

"*■«•

CHAPTER V

THE PINF. PRO(i:ssIONARY: TFir MOTFI

TI^ HEN March comes, the catcroillars
▼ ^ reared m domesticity never cease pro-
cess.onmg. Many leave the greenhouse,
which remams open; they go in search of a
suitable spot for the approaching metamor-
phosis. This IS the final exodus, the definite
abandonment of the nest and the pine-tree.
Ihe pilgrims are much faded, whitish, wi^h
a few russet hairs on their backs.

On the 7.oth of March I spend a whole
morning watching the evolutions of a file
some three yards h length, containing about
a hundred emigrants. The procession toils
grimly along, undulating over the dusty
ground, where it leaves a furrow. Then it
breaks info a small number of groups, which
crowd together and remain quiescent save for
sudden oscillations of the hlnd-quarters.
After a halt of varying duration, these groups
resume their march, henceforward forming
independent processions.
They take no settled direction. This one
III

I

«• . , '*«' . -'v

<%, '^

!.|''W«x.

i . ^ •' .-

The Life of the Caterpillar

goes forward, that one goes back; one turns
to the left and another to the rlijhi:. There
is no rule about their marching, no positive
goal. One procession, after describing a loop,
retraces its steps. Yet there is a general tend-
ency towards tl at wall of the greenhouse
which faces the south and reflects the sun's
rays w'th added fervour. The sole guide, it
would m, is the amount of sun which a
place obtai"s; the directions whence the great-
est heat comes are preferred.

After a couple of hours of marching and
countern- arching, the fragmentary proces-
sions, comprising each a score of caterpillars,
reach the foot of the wall. Here the soil
is powdery, very dry, easy to burrow in, al-
though made somewhat firmer by tufts of
grass. The caterpillar at the head of the row
explores with his mandibles, digs a little, in-
vestigates the nature of the ground. The
others, trusting their leader, follow him with
docility, making no attempts of their own.
Whatever the foremost decides will be
adopted by all. Here, in the choice of a mat-
ter so important as the spot whereat the trans-
formation shall take place, there is no in-
dividual initiative. There is only one will,

iia

The Proccssionary : the Moth

stak 'th;'" '^'^"^ '■' ""'y ""^' hea^l, so to
IhTchJ f""^"'"" "'ay he compared >vith

tlous \TT" r^"' '■' '•^^«K"'-^d as propi-
w^h hi, h ''r'"^ caterpillar halts, pushes
with h.s head, digs w.th his manolMes The

Zhrl""'"' '°'"' ^" '-^ '^«'^- Then the
e ch o th"/ '?° ^r^^rming heap, in which
All th^f Jhe caterpillars resumes his liberty.

neads are plunged into the dust; all their feet
are rakmg all their mandibles excavati:; the

gang of ...dependent workers.

little, the caterpillars bury themselves. For
some t.me to come, the undermined soil cracks
and nses and covers itself with little mole
h.ns; then all Is still. The caverplflars h^ ^
descended to a depth of three Inches. This

Jhe^r^tro-^Totrift^^^'^^^

would atfain a JXyelrXTTh^
greenhouse shelf, supplied with fine sand, has
prov.ded me with cocoons pl.ced at a depth
of from eight to twelve inches. I would not

"3

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1

!?# '

- ■ jy

The Life of the Caterpillar

assert that the interment might not be made
still lower down. For the most part, the
burial is effected in common, by more or less
numerous clusters and at depths which vary
greatly, according to the nature of the soil.
A fortnight later, let us dig at the point
where the descent underground was made.
Here we shall find the cocoons assembled in
bunches, cocoons of sorry appearance, soiled
as they are with earthy particles held by silken
threads. When stripped of their rough ex-
terior, they are not without a certain elegance.
They are narrow ellipsoids, pointed at both
ends, measuring twenty-five millimetres in
length and nine millimetres^ in thickness. The
silk of which they are composed is very fine
and of a dull white. The fragility of the
walls is remarkable when we have seen the
enormous quantity of silk expended on the
construction of the nest.

A prodigious spinner where his winter habi-
tation is concerned, the caterpillar finds his
glands exhausted and is reduced to the strictly
necessary amount when the time comes for
making the cocoon. Too poor in silk, he
strengthens his flimsy cell with a facing of

1,975 by .351 inch.— Translator's Note.

114

^ M

The Processionary ; the Moth

earth. With him it is not the industry of
the Bembex,^ who inserts grains of sand in
her silky web and makes a soh'd casket of
the whole; it is a summary sort of art, devoid
of delicacy, which just casually sticks to-
gether the surrounding earthy refuse

Moreover, if circumstances demand it, the
i;me Caterpillar can do without earth. In
the very midst of the nest [ have sometimes
--very rarely, it is true— discovered cocoons
vvhich were perfectly clean. Not a scrap of
alien matter defiled their fine white silk I
have obtained similar specimens by placing
caterpillars under a bell-glass in a pan pro
vided only with a few pine-twigs. Better
still: an entire procession, a good-sized one
too gathered at the opportune moment and
'■nclosed in a large box containing no sand nor
any material whatever, spun its cocoons with
no other support than the bare walls The^e
exceptions, provoked by circumstances in
which the caterpillar is not free to act ac-
cording to his wont, does not in any way in-
validate the rule. To prepare for the trans-
formation, the l^rocessionary buries himself,

"5

'h

;<

r I

The Life of the Caterpillar

to the depth of nine inches and more, if the

soil permit. , . ^r

Here a curious problem forces itself upon
the observer's mind. How does the Moth
contrive to ascend from the catacombs
into which the caterpillar has descended?
Not in the finery of her perfect state— the
big wings with their delicate scales, the sweep-
ing antenna-plumes-dare she brave the as-
perities of the soil, or she would issue thence
all tattered, rumpled and ""^^^og^'J^^^;
And this is not the case: far from it. More-
over, what means can she employ, she so
feeble, to break the crust of earth into which
the original dust will have turned after the

slightest of showers? j r t i , «r

The Moth appears at the end of July or
in August. The burial took place m March
Rain must have fallen during this lapse of
time, rain which beats down the soil, cements
it and leaves it to harden once evaporation
has set in. Never could a Moth, unless at-
tired and equipped with tools for the pur-
pose, break her way through such an obs acle^
She would perforce require a boring-tool and
a costume of extr.aie simphc.ty. Guided by
these considerations, I institute a few expen-

ii6

aasatat^m

The Processionary : the Moth

ments which will give me the key to the
riddle.

In April I make a copious collection of
cocoons. Of these I place ten or twelve at
the bottom of test-tubes of different diameters
and, last of all, I fill the apparatus with sandy
soil, sifted and very slightly moistened. The
contents are pressed down, but in moderation,
for fear of injuring the cocoons below. When
the month of August comes, the column of
earth, damp at th outset, has set so firmly,
thanks to evaporation, that, when I reverse
the te<; ibe, nothing trickles out. On the
other iiund, some cocoons have been kept
naked under a metallic cover. These will
teach me what the buried cocoons would not
be able to show. They furnish me, in fact,
with records of the greatest interest. On issu-
ing from the cocoon, the Pine Bombyx has
her finery bundled up and presents the appear-
ance of a cylinder with rounded ends. The
wings, the principal obstacle to underground
labour, are pressed against the breast like nar-
row scarves; the antennae, another serious em-
barrassment, have not yet unfolded their
plumes and are turned back along the Moth's
sides. The hair, which later forms a dense

"7

il

<

pr

i *

,',f''

The Life of the Caterpillar

fleece, is laid flat, pointing backwards. The
legs alone are free, fairly active and endowed
with a certain vigour. Thanks to this arrange-
ment, which does away with all awkward pro-
jections, the ascent through the soil is made
possible-
True, every Moth, at the moment of quit-
ting her shell, is this sort of swathed mummy ;
but the Pine Bombyx has in addition an ex-
ceptional aptitude rendered necessary by the
fact that she hatches under the ground.
While the others, once out of the cocoon,
hasten to spread their wings and are power-
less to defer their development, she, by virtue
of an indispensable privilege, remains in her
compact and wrapped-up condition as long
as circumstances demand it. Unde- my bell-
glasses I see some who, though born upon the
surface, for twenty-four hours drag them-
selves over the sand or cling to the pine-
branches, before untying their sashes and un-
furling them as wings.

This delay is evidently essential. To as-
cend from beneath the earth and reach the
open air, the Moth has to bore a long tun-
nel, which requires time. She will take good
care not to spread her finery before emer-

ii8

The Processionary : the Moth

ging, for it would hamper her and would it-
self be rumpled and badly creased. There-
tore the cylindrical mummy persists until the
deliverance .s effected; and. if liberty happen
o be acquired before the appointed moment,
the hnal evolution does not take place until
after a lapse of time in conformity with
usage. ^

We are acquainted with the equipment
for emergence, the tight-fitting jerkin in-
dispensable m a narrow gallery. Now,
where .s the boring-tool? The legs, though
free v-ould here be insufficient: they
would scrape the earth laterally enlar-
ging the diameter of the shaft, but could
not prolong the exit vertically, above the

fron? '^^'' '°°^ "^"'^ ^^ ^"

Pass the tip of your finger over the Moth's

• ,-, ^°^,^'^^ ^^^^ ^ few very rough
wrmkles The magnifying-glass shows us
more We find, between the eyes and higher
up, four or five transversal scaies, so set as
to overlap one another; they are hard and
black and are trimmed crescent-wise at the
ends 1 he longest and strongest is the upper-
most, which IS m the middle of the forehead.

119

Vi

i

The Life of the Caterpillar

There you have the centre-hit of your boring-
tool.

To make our tunnels in granitic rocks we
tip our drills with diamond points. For a
similar task the Bomhyx, a living drill, wears
implanted on her forehead a row of crescents,
hard and durable ;is steel, a regular twist-
bit. Without suspecting its use, Reaumur
was perfectly aware of this marvellous im-
plement, which he called scaly stairs:

"What docs it profit this Moth," he asks,
"that she should thus have the front of her
Iiead formed like scaly stairs? That Is just
what I do not know."

My test-tubes, learned master, will tell us.
By good fortune, of the numerous Moths as-
cending from the bottom of my apparatus
through a column of sand solidified by the
evaporation of the original moisture, some are
making their way upwards against the side
of the tube, enabling me to follow their ma-
na'uvres. I see them raising their cylindrical
bodies, butting with their heads, jerking now
in one direction, now in another. The nature
of their task is obvious. The centre-bits, with
an alternating movement, are boring into the
agglutinated sand. The powdery wreckage

120

The IVoccssionary: the Moth

trickles down from overhead and Is at once
thrust backward by the lea, A l.^.i
fo™, a. the top o^ehcvS, ItS
move, ,0 much nearer to the surface By
the fol owing day, the whole column ten

^r^^hl\"'\ ";" "^J P"f-«^J with a
Straight, perpendicular shaft

Shall we now form an idea of the total
work performed? Let us turn the test tube
Z;t'7^; The contents, as I Lve said
will not fall out, for they have set into a

^^'''h:\^V''^. the tunnels bored by the
Moth tnckles all the sand crumbled by the
crescents of the drill. The result is a cy fn!
dncal gallery, of the width of a lead^peS

Are you satisfied, my master? Do you

sta7rs?"X'l^ ^"^^ "^'''^y -' '^^ A
stairs ? Would you not say that we have here

a magnificent example of an instrument super
latively fitted for a definite task ? I share thiJ
opm.on. for I think, with you, that a
sovereign Reason has in all things coordi-
nated the means and the e.d

But let me tell you: we are called old-
fashioned, you and I; with our conception of

121

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The Life of the Caterpillar

a world ruled by an IntelliKence, we are quite
out of the swim. Order, balance, harmony:
that is all silly nonsense. The universe is a
fortuitous arrangement in the chaos of the
possible. What is white might as easily be
black, what is round might be angular, what
is regular might be shapeless and harmony
might just as well be discord. Chance has de-
cided all things.

Yes, we are a pair of prejudiced old fogeys
when we linger with a certain fondness over
the marvels of perfection. Who troubles
about these futilities nowadays? So-called
serious science, the science which spells
honour, profit and renown, consists in slicing
your animal with very costly instruments into
tiny circular sections. My housekeeper does
as much with a bunch of carrots, with no
higher pretention than to concoct a modest
dish, which is not an invariable success. In
the problem of life are we more successful
when we have split a fibre into four and cut
a cell into shavings? It hardly seems so.
The riddle is as dark as ever. Ah, how much
better is your method, my dear master; above
all, how much loftier your philosophy, how
much more wholesome and invigorating!

122

The Processionary : the Moth

W th the deliberate slowness demanded by so
debcate an operat.on, she spreads her bunched
wmgs, expends her antenna- and puffs out her
neece. Her costume is a modest one: upper
wmgs grey, striped with a few crinkly brown

vi?h /h'- T'^'^'^r^' ''^''''^ thorax covered
with thick grey fur; abdomen clad in bright-
russet velvet. The last segment has a p'afe-
ftsnotT ^^ ^r ^'ght it appears bare.

sal surface scales so well assembled and so
close together that the whole seems to form a
contmuous block, like a nugget.

Let us touch this trinket with the point of
a need e. However gently we rub, a multi-

breath ',h " 'T, '^ ^-"^ ^""'"'^ '' '^' '^^«t
breath, shining l,ke mica spangles. Their

concave form, their shape, an elongated oval,

reddish gold in the upper, give them, if we
allow for the difference in size, a certain re-
semblance to the scales surrounding the heads
of some of the centaury tribe. Such is the

fnnn'h T- "^ ''^''^ '^' "^^^h^"- ^vill de-
spoil herself in order to cover the cylinder of

123

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The Life of the Caterpillar

her eggs. The nugget of her hind-quarters,
exfoliated spangle by spangle, will form a
roof for the germs arranged like the grain in
a corn-cob.

I was anxious to watch the actual placing
of these pretty tiles, which are fixed at the
pale end with a speck of cement, leaving the
coloured end free. Circumstances did not
favour me. Inactive all day, motionless on
some needle of the lower branches, the Moth,
whose life is very short, moves only in the
darkness of the night. Both her mating
and egg-laying are nocturnal. On the
morrow, all is finished: the Bombyx has
lived. Under these conditions, it was
impossible, by the doubtful beams of a
lantern, to follow satisfactorily the labour
of the mother on the pine-trees in the

garden.

I was no more fortunate with the captives
in my bell-glasses. A few did lay their eggs,
but always at a very advanced hour of the
night, an hour which found my vigilance at
fault. The light of a candle and eyes heavy
with sleep were of little avail when it came
to analysing the subtle operations of the
mother as she puts her scales in place. We

124

^ s

T

The Proccssionary : the Moth

will sav nothing of the little that was imper-
fectly seen.

Let us close with a few words of sylvi-
cultural practice. The Pine Proccssionary is
a voracious caterpillar who, while respecting
the terminal bud, protected by its scales and
its resinous varnish, completely denudes the
bough and imperils the tree by leaving it bald.
The green pine-needles, that mane in which
the vegetable vigour of the tree resides, are
shorn to the roots. How are we to remedy
this?

When consulted on the subject, the forest-
ranger of my parish told me that the custom
is to go from tree to tree with pruning-shears
fitted on a long pole and to cut down the nests,
afterwards burning them. The method is a
troublesome one, for the silken purses are
often at considerable heights. Moreover, it
if not without danger. Attacked by the hairy
dust, the destroyers soon experience intolera-
ble discomfort, a torture of irritation which
makes them refuse to continue the work. To
my thinking it would be better to operate
before the appearance of the nests.

The Pine Bombyx is a very bad flyer. In-
capable of soaring, almost like the Silk-moth,

r,.i. i; - tki

^p

1 '**-**

*•«

The Life of the Caterpillar

she flutters about and blunders to earth again;
and her best efforts barely succeed in bringing
her to the h)wer branches, which almost drag
along the ground. Here arc deposited the
cylinders of eggs, at a height of six feet at
most. It is the young caterpillars who, from
one pro'i'isional encampment to another,
gradually ascend, attaining, stage by stage,
the summits upon which they weave their final
dwellings. Once we grasp this peculiarity, the
rest is plain sailing.

In August we inspect the lower foliage of
the tree: an easy examination, for it is car-
ried on no higher than our heads. Towards
the far end of the twigs it is easy to espy
the Bombyx' eggs, packed into cylinders that
resemble scaly catkins. Their size and their
whitish colour make them show up amid the
sombre green. Gathered with the double
pine-needle that bears them, these cylinders
are crushed under foot, a summary fashion
of stamping out an evil before it spreads.

This I have done in the case of the few
pine-trees in my enclosure. And the same
might be done in the wider forest expanses
and more especially in parks and gardens,
where symmetrical foliation is one of the

126

The Processionary : the Moth

great beauties of the tree. I will add that
It IS wise to prune every bough that droops
to earth and to keep the foot of the conifer
bare to a height of six feet or so. In the ab-
sence of these lower stairs, the only ones that
the Bombyx with her clumsy flight can reach,
she will not be able to populate the tree

!

127

CHAPTER VI

THE PINE PROCESSIONARY : THE STINGING
POWER

THE Pine Pro.essionary has three cos-
tumes: that of infancy, a scanty, ragged
fleece, a mixture of black and white; that of
middle age, the richest of the three, when the
segments deck themselves on their dorsal sur-
face with goiden tufts and a mosaic of bare
patches, scarlet in colour; and that of ma-
turity, when the rings are cleft by slits which
one by one open and close their thick lips,
champing and grinding their bristling russet
beards and chewing them into little pellets,
which are thrown out on the creature's sides
when the bottom of the pocket swells up like
a tumour.

When wearing this last costume, the cater-
pillar is very disagreeable to handle, or even
to observe at close quarters. I happened,
quite unexpectedly, to learn this more tho-
roughly than I wished.

After unsuspectingly passing a whole mom-

128

i^^.'^fiW^f^^iicsf:!

The Stinging Power

<"ng with my insects, stooping over them, mag-
n>fying-glass in hand, to examine t!'. ^-ork-

eyehds suffenng with redness for f A^-ntv-fouv
hours and afflicted with an itching tv^n^ior.
pamful and persistent than that produced by

doln t'lf d " ""^t". ^" ^"'"^ '"^ '0^'
eyes reddened and swollen and my face
unrecognizable, the family anxiously en!
quired what had happened to me and were
not^ reassured until I toid them of my mis-

I unhesitatingly attribute my painful ex
penence to the red hairs ground to powder
and collected .nto flakes. My breath sough?
them out in the open pockets and carried them
to my face, which was very near. The un-
thinking intervention of my hands, which now
and agam sought to ease the discomfort,
merely aggravated the ill bv spreading the
irritating dust. ^

No, the search for truth on the back of
the Froccssionary is not all sunshine. It was
only after a night's rest that I found myself
pretty well recovered, the incident having no
further .11 effects. Let us continue, however.

129

il= !

1 1 m

■J.'jS.-.r

^•i./iZiy?.

i-tj _<

^

T J

The Life of the Caterpillar

It is well to substitute premeditated experi-
ments for chance facts.

The little pockets of which the dorsal slits
form the entrance are encumbered, as I have
said, with hairy refuse, either scattered or
gathered into flakes. With the point of a
paint-brush I collect, when they gape open, a
little of their contents and rub it on my wrist
or on the inside of my fore-arm.

I have not long to wait for the result.
Soon the skin turns red and is covered with
pale lenticular swellings, similar to those pro-
duced by a nettle-sting. Without being very
sharp, the pain was extremely unpleasant. By
the following day, itching, redness and lenticu-
lar swellings had all disappeared. This is the
usual sequence of events; but 'et me
not omit to say that the experiment does
not always succeed. The efficacy of the
fluffy dust appears subject to great varia-
tions. , L T U fl

There have been occasions when 1 have
rubbed myself with the whole caterpillar, or
with his cast skin, or with the broken hairs
gathered on a paint-brush, without producing
any unpleasant results. The irritant dust
seems to vary in quality according to certain

130

The Stinging Power

circumstances which I have not been able to
discover.

From my various tests it is evident that the
discr r fort is caused by the delicate hairs
which the lips of the dorsal mouths, gaping
and closing again, never cease grinding, to
die detriment of their beards and moustaches.
The edges of these slits, as their bristles rub
off, furnish the stmging dust.

Having established this fact, let us proceed
to more serious experiments. In the middle
of March, when the Processionaries for the
most part have migrated underground, I de-
cide to open a few nests, as I wish to collect
their last inhabitants for the purpose of my
investigations. Without taking any precau-
tions, my fingers tug at the silken dwelling,
which is made of solid stuff; they '^ into

shreds, search it through and throu^ rn it
inside out and back again.

Once more and this time in a more serious
fashion, I am the victim of my unthinking
enthusiasm. Hardly Is the operation com-
pleted, when the tips of my fingers begin to
hurt in good earnest, especially In the more
delicate part protected by the edge of the nail.
The feeling is like the sharp pain of a sore

131

5fe,.«^^ii^. .m^::^ "r-s •.::-•

1

The Life of the Caterpillar

that is beginning to fester. All the rest of
the day and all through the night, the pain
persists, troublesome enoi gh to rob me of
my sleep. It does not quiet down until the
following day, after twenty-four hourr of
petty torment.

How did this new misadventure befall me?
I had not handled thj caterpillars: indeed,
there were very few of them in the nest at
the time. I had come upon no shed skins,
for the moults do not take place inside the
silken purse. When the moment has come to
doff the second costume, that of the red mo-
saic, the caterpillars cluster outside, on the
dome of their dwelling, and there leave in a
single heap their old clothes entangled with
bits of silk. What is left to explain the un-
pleasant consequences to which the handling
of the nest exposes us?

The broken red bristles are left, the fallen
hairs forming a dust that is invisible with-
out a very careful examination. For a
long time the Processionaries crawl and
swarm about the nest; they pass to and fro,
penetrating the thickness of the wall when
they go to the pastures and when they return
to their dormitory. Whether motionless or

132

The Stinging Power

on the move, they are constantly opening and
closing their apparatus of information, the
dorsal mouths. At the moment of closing, the
lips of these slits, rolling on each other like
the cylinders of a flattcning-mill, catch hold
of the fluff near them, tear it out and break
it into fragments which the bottom of the
pocket, presently reascending, shoots outside.

Thus myriads of irritant particles are dis-
seminated and subtly introduced into every
part of the nest. The shirt of Nessus burnt
th» veins of whoso wore It; the silk of the
Processionary, another poisoned fabric, sets
on f re the fingers that handle it.

The loathsome hairs long retain their viru-
lence. I was once sorting out some handfuls
of cocoons, many of which were diseased. As
the hardness of the contents was usually an
mdication that something was wrong, I tore
open the doubtful cocoons with my fingers, in
order to save the non-contaminated chrysalids.
My sorting was rewarded with the same kind
of pain, especially under the edges of the
nails, as I had already suffered when tearing
the nests.

The cause of the irritation on this occasion
was sometimes the dry skin discarded by the

133

hm

**^«t»«

The Life of the Caterpillar

Processlonary on becoming a chrysalis and
sometimes the shrivelled caterpillar turned
into a sort of chalky cylinder through the
invasion of the malignant fungus. Six
months later, these wretched cocoons were still
capable of producing redness and irritation.

Examined under the microscope, the russet
hairs, the cause of the itching, are stiff rods,
very sharp at either end and armed with barbs
along the upper half. Their structure has
absolutely nothing in common with nettle-
hnirs, those tapering phials whose hard point
snaps off, pouring an irritant fluid into the
tiny wound.

The pbnt from whose Latin name, Urtica,
we derive the word urtication borrowed the
design of its weapon from the fangs of the
venomous serpents; it obtains its effect, not
by the wound, but by the poison introduced
into the wound. The Processlonary employs
a different method. The hairs, which have
naught resembling the ampullary reservoir of
the nettle-hairs, must be poisoned on the sur-
face, like the assegais of the Kafirs and
Zulus.

Do they really penetrate the epidermis?
Are they like the savage's javelin, which can-

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The Stinging Power

not be extracted once it has gone in? With
their barbs, do they enter all the more deeply
because of the quivering of the outraged flesh ?
There is no ground for believing anything of
the kind. In vain do I scrutinize the injured
spot through the magnifying-glass; I ''an sec
no sign of the implanted dart. Neither could
Reaumur, when an encounter with the Oak
Processionary set him scratching himself. He
had his suspicions, but could state nothing
definitely.

No; despite their sharp points and their
barbs, which make them, under the micro-
scope, such formidable spears, the Proces-
sionary's russet hairs are not darts designed
to imbed themselves in the skin and to pro-
voke irritation by pricking.

Many caterpillars, all most inoffensive,
have a coat of bristles which, under the micro-
scope; resolve themselves into barbed javelins,
quite harmless In spite of their threatening
aspect. Let me mention a couple of these
peaceable halberdiers.

Early in spring, we see, crossing the paths,
a briskly-moving caterpillar who inspires repu-
nance by his ferocious hairiness, which ripples
like ripe corn. The ancient naturalists, with

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The Life of the Caterpillar

their artless and picturesque nomenclature,
called him the Hedgehog. The term isworthy
of the creature, which, in the moment of
danger, rolls itself up like a Hedgehog, pre-
senting its spiny armour on all sides to the
enemy. On its back is a dense mixture of
black hairs and hairs of ashen-gray; while on
the sides and fore-part of the body is a stiff
mane of bright russet. Black, grey or russet,
all this fierce-looking coat is heavily barbed.

One hesitates to touch this horror with the
finger-tips. Still, encouraged by my example,
seven-year-old Paul, with his tender child's
skin, gathers handfuls of the repulsive insect
with no more apprehension than if he were
picking a bunch of violets. He fills his
boxes with it; he rears it on elm-leaves and
handles it daily, for he knows that from this
frightful creature he will one day obtain a
superb Moth {Chelonia caja, Linn.), clad
in scarlet velvet, with the lower wings red and
the upper white, sprinkled with brown spots.

What resulted from the child's familiarity
with the shaggy creature? Not even a trace
of itching on his delicate skin. I do not speak
of mine, which is tanned by the years.

In the osier-beds of our local stream, the
136

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The Stinging Power

rushing Aygues, a thorny shrub abounds
which, at the advent of autumn, is covered
with an infinity of very sour red berries.
Its crabbed houghs, which bear but little ver-
dure, are hidden under their clusters of ver-
milion balls It is the sallow thorn or sea
buckthorn (Hippophae rhamnoidesj.

In April, a very hairy but rather pretty
caterpillar lives at the expense of this shrub's
budding leaves. He has on his back five dense
ufts of hair set side by side and arranged
like the bristles of a brush, tufts deep-black
in the centre and white at the edges He
waves two divergent plumes in front of him
and sports a third on his crupper, like a
feathery tail. These three are black hai-
pencils of extreme delicacy.

His greyish Moth, flattened motionless on
the bark stretches his long fore-legs, one
against the other, in front of him. You would
take them, at a first glance, for antennae of
exaggerated proportions. This pose of the
extended hmbs has won the insect the scientific
label of Orgyia, arm's length; and also the
vulgar and more expressive denomination of
t'atte etendue, or outstretched paw

Little Paul has not failed, with my aid, to
U7

...... ...k^ WLf-.^i^,^t.

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The Life of the Caterpillar

rear the pretty hearer of the tufts and brushes.
I low many times, with his sensitive finger,
has he not stroked the creature's furry cos-
tume? He found it softer than velvet. And
yet, enlarged under the microscope, the cater-
pillar's hairs are horril^le barbed spears, no
less menacing than those of the Processionary.
The resemblance goes no farther: handled
without precautions, the tufted caterpillar
does not provoke even a simple rash. No-
thing couh^ ^e more harmless than his coat.

It is evident, then, that the cause of the
irritation lies elsewhere than in the barbs. If
the barbed bristles were enough to poison the
fingers, most hairy caterpillars would be dan-
gerous, for nearly all have sj in . i /istles. We
find, on the contrary, that virulence is be-
stowed upon a very small number, which are
not distinguished from the rest by any special
structure of the hair.

That the barbs have a part to play, that of
fixing the irritant atom upon the epidermis,
of keeping it anchored in its place. Is, after all,
possible: but the shooting pains cannot by
any means be caused by the mere prick of so
delicate a harpoon.

Much less slender, the hairs clustered

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The Stinging Power

Into pads on the prickly pears are fero-
ciously barbed. Woe to the fingers tha^
handle this kind of velvet too confidently!
At the least touch they are pierced with har-
poons whose extraction involves a severe tax
upon our patience. Other inconvenience there
IS little or none, for the action of the barb is
in this case purely mechanical. Supposing— a
very doubtful thing— that the Processionary's
hairs could penetrate our skin, they would act
likewise, only with less effect, if they had
i;5'"^'y Jheir sharp points and their barbs.
What then do they possess in addition ?

They must have, not inside them, like the
hairs of the nettle, but outside, on the surface,
an iritant agent; they must be coated with a
poisonous mixture, which makes them act by
simple contact.

Let us remove this virus, by means of a
solvent; and the Processionary's darts, re-
duced to their insij, cant mechanical action,
will be harmless. The solvent, on the other
hand, rid of all hairs by filtration, will be
charged with the irritant element, which we
shall be able to test without the agency of the
hairs. Isolated and concentrated, the sting-
ing element, far from losing by this treat-

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The Life of the Caterpillar

ment, ought to gain In virulence. So reflec-
tion tells us.

The solvents tried are confined to ♦hree:
water, spirits of wine and sulphuric ether. I
employ the latter by preference, although the
other two, spirits of wine especially, have
yielded satisfactory results. To simplify the
experiment, instead of submitting to the action
of the solvent the entire caterpillar, who
would complicate the extract with his fats
and his nutritive juices, I prefer to employ
the cast skin alone.

I therefore collect, on the one hand, the
heap of dry skins which the moult of the
second phase has left on the dome of the silken
dwelling and, on the other hand, the skins
which the caterpillars have rejected in their
cocoons before becoming chrysalids; and I
leave the two lots to infuse, separately, in sul-
phuric ether for twenty-four hours. The in-
fusion is colourless. The liquid, carefully
filtered, is exposed to spontaneous evapora-
tion ; and the skins are rinsed with ether in the
filter, several times over.

There are now two tests to be made: one
with the skins and one with the product of
maceration. The first is as conclusive as can

140

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The Stinging Power

be. Hairy as in the normal state and per-
fectly dried, the skins of both lots, drained
by the ether, produce not the slightest effect,
although I rub myself with them, without the
least caution, at the juncture of the fingers, a
spot very sensitive to stinging.

The iiairs are the same as before the actio.,
of the solvent: they have lost none of their
barbs, of their javelin-points; and yet they are
ineffectual. They produce no pain or incon-
venience whatever. Deprived of their toxic
smearing, these thousands of darts become so
much harmless velvet. The Hedgehog Cater-
pillar and the Brush Caterpillar are not more
inoffensive.

The second test is more positive and so
conclusive in its painful effects that one hardly
likes to try it a second time. When the
ethereal infusion is reduced by spontaneous
evaporation to a few drops, I soak in it a slip
of blotting-paper folded in four, so as to form
a square measuring something over an inch.
Too unsuspecting of my product, I do things
on a lavish scale, both as regards the super-
ficial area of my poor epidermis and the
quantity of the virus. To any one who might
wish to renew the investigation 1 should re-

141

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The Life of the Caterpillar

commend a less generous dose. Lastly, the
square of paper, that novel sort of mustard-
plaster, is applied to the under surface of the
fore-arm. A thin waterproof sheeting covers
it, to prevent it from drying too rapidly ; and
a bandage holds it in place.

For the space of ten hours, I feel nothing;
then I experience an increasing itch and ^
burning sensation acute enough to keep me
awake for the greater part of the night. Next
day, after twenty-four hours of contact, the
poultice is removed. A red mark, slightly
swollen and very clearly outlined, occu-
pies the square which the poisoned paper
covered.

The skin feels sore, as though it had been
cauterized, and looks as rough as shagreen.
From each of its tiny pustules trickles a drop
of serous fluid, which hardens into a substance
similar in colour to gum-arabic. This oozing
continues for a couple of days and more.
Then the inflamation abates; the pain, hitherto
very trying, quiets down; the skin dries and
comes off in little flakes. All is over, except
the red mark, which remains for a long time,
so tenacious in its effects is this extract of
Processionary. Three weeks after the ex-

142

The Stinging Power

perJment, the little square on the fore-arm
subjected to the poison is still discoloured.

For thus branding one's self, does one at
least obtain some small reward? Yes. A
little truth is the balm spread upon the wound ;
and indeed truth is a sovran balm. It will
come presently to solace us for much greater
sufferings.

For the moment, this painful experiment
shows us that the irritation has not as its
primary cause the hairiness of the Procession-
ary. Here is no hair, no barb, no dart. All
of that has been retained by the filter. We
have nothing now but a poisonous agent ex-
tracted by the solvent, the ether. This ir-
ritant element recalls, to a certain extent,
that of cantharides, which acts by simple con-
tact. My square of poisoned blotting-paper
was a sort of plaster, which, instead of raising
the epidermis in great blisters, makes it bristle
with tiny pustules.

The part played by the barbed hairs, those
atoms which the least movement of the air
disseminates in all directions, is confined to
conveying to op- face and hands the irritant
substance in ch they are impregnated.

Their barbs hoio them in place and thus per-

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The Life of the Caterpillar

mit the virus to act. It is even probable that,
by means of slight scratches which would
otherwise pass unnoticed, they assist the action
of the stinging fluid.

Shortly after handling the Processionaries,
a delicate epidermis becomes tumefied, red and
painful. Without being immediate, the action
of the caterpillar is prompt. The extract
made with ether, on the other hand, causes
pain and rubefaction only after a longish in-
terval. What does it need to produce more
rapid ulceration? To all appearances, the
action of the hairs.

The direct stinging caused by the caterpillar
Is nothing like so serious as that produced by
the ethereal extract concentrated in a few
drops. Never before, in my most painful mis-
adventures, whether with the silken purses or
their inhabitants, have I seen my skin covered
with serous pustules and peeling off In flakes.
This time it Is a veritable sore, anything but
pleasing to the eye.

The aggravation Is easily explained. I
soaked In the ether some fifty discarded skins.
The few drops which remained after the
evaporation and which were absorbed by the
square of blotting-paper represented, there-

144

The Stinging Power

fore, the virulence of a single insect fifty
times increased. My little blistering-plaster
was equivalent to the contact of fifty cater-
pillars at the same spot. There is no doubt
that, if we left them to steep in considerable
numbers, we should obtain extracts of really
formidable strength. It is quite possible that
medical science will one day make good use
of this powerful counter-irritant, which is ut-
terly different from cantharides.

Whether voluntary victims of our curiosity,
which while affording no other satisfaction
than that of knowledge, exposes us to an into-
lerable itch, or sufferers through an accident,
what can we do to give a little relief to the
irritation caused by the Processionary ? It is
good to know the origin of the evil, but it
would be better to apply a remedy.

One day, with both hands sore from the
prolonged examination of a nest, I try without
success lotions of alcohol, glycerine, oil and
soapsuds. Nothing does any good. I then
remember a palliative employed by Reaumur
against the sting of the Oak Processionary.
Without telling us how he came to know of
the strange specific, the master rubbed himself
with parsley and felt a good deal the better

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The Life of the Caterpillar

for it. He adds that any other leaf would
probably assuage the irritation in the same
way.

This is a fitting occasion for reopening the
subject. Here, in a corner of the garden, is
parsley, green and abundant as one could wish.
What other plant can we compare with it ? I
choose the purslain, the spontaneous guest of
my vegetable-beds. Mucilaginous and fleshy
as it is, it readily crushes, yielding an emollient
liniment. I rub one hand with parsley and
the other with purslain, pressing hard enough
to reduce the l'.\,ves to a paste. The result
deserves attentidn.

With the parsley, the burning is a little less
acute, it is true, but, though relieved, it per-
sists for a long time yet and continues trouble-
some. With the purslain, the petty torture
ceases almost at once and so completely that
I no longer notice it. My nostrum possesses
incontestable virtues. I recommend it quietly,
without blatant advertisement, to any one
who may be persecuted by the Processionary.
Foresters, in their war upon caterpillars'
nests, should find great relief from it.

I have also obtained good results with the
leaves of the tomato and the lettuce; and,

146

The Stinging Power

without pursuing this botanical survey further
I rema.n convmced, with Reaumur/that an^

efficacV"'' '' "'"''^ P"'"^ ^ "^^^'^

admf/^K' !\' 7°"^' °^ ''''°" °^ t^'s specific, I
admit that I do not understand it, any more
han I can perceive the mode of actlon'^oT^he
caterpillar's virus. Moliere's medical studen

*JB"^ ''' '" '"^ "'"'■'"' ^^'•'"'^^^^ cujus est
proprtetas sensiis assoupire."

Let us say likewise: the crushed herb calms
the burning ,tch because It possesses a calm
itciiC whose property is to assuage

The quip Is a good deal more philosophiVal
than It looks. What do we know of our
remedies or of anything? VVe perceiv*
effects, but we cannot get back to their

In my village and for some distance around
It, there is a popular belief that to relieve the
pain of a Wasp's or Bee's sting all ha we
need do is to rub the part stung with thr^e

herbs, the first that come to hand, make them

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The Life of the Caterpillar

into a bunch and rub hard. The prescription,
by all accounts, is infallible.

I thought at first that this was one of those
therapeutic absurdities which have their birth
in rustic imaginations. After making a trial,
I admit that what sounds like a nonsensical
rer-edy sometimes has something genuine
about it. Friction with three kinds of herbs
does actually deaden the sting of the Wasp

or Bee.

I hasten to add that the same success is
achieved with a single herb; and so the result
agrees with what the parsley and purslam
have taught us in respect of the irritation
caused by the Processionary.

Why three herbs when one is enough?
Three is the preeminently lucky number; it
smacks of witchcraft, which is far from de-
tracting from the virtues of the unguent. All
rustic medicine has a touch of magic about it;
and there is merit in doing things by threes.

Perhaps the specific of the three herbs may
even date back to the materia medica of an-
tiquity. Dioscorides recommends rpitpvUov:
it is, he states, good for the bite of venomous
serpents. To determine this celebrated three-
leaved plant exactly would not be easy. Is it

148

The Stinging Power

a common clover? The psoralea, with its
pitchy odour? The menyanthcs, or uck-bean,
that mmate of the chilly peat-bogs? The
oxalis, the wood-sorrel of the country-side?
We cannot tell for certain. The botany of
those days was innocent of the descriptive
conscientiousness of ours. The plant which
acted as a poison-antidote grouped its leaves
by threes. That is its essential characteristic.
Again the cabalistic number, essential to
medical virtues as conceived by the first heal-
ers. The peasant, a tenacious conservative,
has preserved the ancient remedy, but, by a
happy inspiration, has changed the three
original leaves into three different herbs; he
has elaborated the rpitpvUov into the three-
fold foliage which he crushes on the Bee's
sting. I seem to perceive a certain relation
between these artless ways and the crushing
of parsley as described by Reaumur,

149

CHAPTER VII

THE ARBUTUS CATERPILLAR

I HAVE not found many species of urtica-
ting caterpillars in the small corner of my
investigations. I know of two only: the Pine
Caterpillar and the Arbutus Caterpillar. The
latter belongs to the genus Liparis. His
Moth, who is a glorious snowy white, with
the last rings of the abdomen bright russet,
is very like Liparis auriftua, Fab., from whom
she differs not only in size — she is smaller —
but, above all, in the field of operations se-
lected by her caterpillar. Is the species class-
ified in our lists? I do not know; and really
it is hardly worth while to enquire. What
does a Latin name matter, when one cannot
mistake the insect? I shall be sparing of de-
tail concerning the Arbutus Caterpillar, for
he is far less interesting in his habits than the
Pine Processionary. Only his ravages and his
poison deserve serious attention.

On the Serignan hills, sunny heights upon
which the Mediterranean vegetation comes
to an end, the arbutus, or strawberry-tree,

ISO

The Arbutus Caterpillar

abounds: a magnificent shrub, with lustrous
evergreen foliage, vermilion fruit, round and
fleshy as strawberries, and hanging clusters of
little white bells resembling those of the lily
of the valley. When the frosts come at the
approach of December, nothing could be more
charmmg than the arbutus, decking its gay
verdure with both fruits and flowers, with
coral balls and plump little bells. Alone of
our flora, it combines the flowering of to-day
with the ripening of yesterday.

Then the bright-red raspberries— the dar-
bouses, as we call them here — beloved by the
Blackbird, grow soft and sweet to the palate.
The housewives pluck them and make them
into preserves that are not without merit. As
for the shrub itself, when the season for cut-
tmg has come, it is not, despite its beauty,
respected by the woodman. It serves, like any
trivial brushwood, in the making of faggots
for heating ovens. Frequently, too, the showy
arbutus is ravaged by a caterpillar yet more
to be dreaded than the woodcutter. After
this glutton has been at it. It could not look
more desolate had it been scorched and black-
ened by fire.

The Moth, a pretty little, snow-white Bom-

M^

The Life of the Caterpillar

byx, with superb antennary plumes and a cot-
ton-wool tippet on her thorax, lays her eggs
on a leaf of the arbutus and, in so doing,
starts the evil.

You see a little cushion with pointed ends,
rather less than an inch in let gth; a white
eiderdown, tinged with russet, thick, very soft
and formed of hairs fixed with a little gum by
the end that points towards the upper ex-
tremity of the leaf. The eggs are sunk in
the thickness of this soft shelter. They pos-
sess a metallic sheen and look like so many
nickel granules.

Hatching takes place in September. The
first meals are made at the expense of the
native leaf; the later ones at the expense of
the leaves all around. One surface only is
nibbled, usually the upper; the other remain^
intact, trellised by the network of veins,
which are too horny for the new-born grubs.

The consumption of leaves is effected with
scrupulous economy. Instead of grazing at
hazard and using up the pasturage at the dic-
tates of individual caprice, the flock progresses
gradually from the base to the tip of the leaf,
with all heads ranged in a frontal attack,
almost in a straight line. Not " bite is taken

15a

The Arbutus Caterpillar

beyond this line, until all that lies on this side
of it Is eaten up.

As It advances, the flock throws a few
threads across the denuded portion, where
nothing remains but the veins and the epi-
dermis of the opposite surface. Thus is
woven a gossamer veil serving as a shelter
from the fierce rays of the sun and as the
parachute which Is essential to these weak-
lings, whom a puff of wind would carry away.
As the result of a more rapid desiccation on
the ravaged surface, the leaf soon begins to
curl of its own accord, curving Into a gondola
which is covered by a continuous awning
stretched from end to end. The herbage is
then exhausted. The flock abandons it and
begins again elsewhere in the near neighbour-
hood.

After various temporary pastures of this
^ind. In November, when the cold weather is
at hand, the caterpillars settle permanently at
the end of a bough. Nibbled one by one on
their upper surfaces, the leaves of the terminal
bunch draw close to their neighbours, which,
excoriated In their turn, do the same, until
the whole forms a bundle, which looks as if it
had been scorched, lashed together with mag-

153

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The Life of the Cater] illar

nificent white silk. This is the v'n'f habita-
tion, whence the family, still vcr fc'-'o'^, will
not issue until the fine weathei r .urn.-..

The assembling of this leaf) • n ev irk is
not due to any special industry m tn cater-
pillars* part; they do not stretch (fv:i. threads
from leaf to leaf and then, by pu' ' ;4 a- :*'»' •
ropes, bring the various pieces M tv . '
into contact. It is merely the r. suit . "
iccation on the nibbled surfaces. ' ,xed '
it is true, solidly bind togethe. the leaves
brought close to one another by the contrac-
tion due to their aridity; but they do not in
any way play the p:irt of a motive mechanism
in the work of the assemblage.

No hauling-rupes are here, no capstans to
move the timbers. The feeble creatures would
be incapable of such effort. The thing hap-
pens of itself. Sometimes a floating thread,
the plaything of the air, enlaces srme adjacent
leaf. This chance footbridge tempts the ex-
plorers, who hasten to strip the accidental
prize; and, without other labour, yet one more
leaf bends of its own accord and Is added
to the enclosure. For the most part, the
house is built by eating; a lodging is procured
by dint of banqueting.

154

The Arbutus Caterpillar

A comfortable house, tightly closed and
welkaulked, proof against rain and snow.
We, to guard ourselves against draughts, put
sand-b igs against the cracks of our doors and
windows; the extravagant little Arbutus Cat-
erpillar appli( s pipings of silk-velvet to his
shutters. Things shouKI be cosy inside, how-
ever damp the fog. In bad weather, the rain
drips mto my house. The leaf-dwclling knows
nothmg of such troubles, so true is it that
animals often enjoy advantages which rele-
gate human Industry to the second rank.

In this shelter of silk and foliage, the worst
three or four months of the year are passed
in a state of complete abstinence. No out-
ings; not a bite of food. In March, this
torpor ceases; and the recluses, those starving
bellies, shift their quarters.

The community now splits up into squads,
which spread themselves anyhow over the ad-
jacent verdure. This is the period of serious
devastation. The caterpillars no longer con-
fine themselves to nibbling one surface of the
leaf; their keen appetites demand the whole
of it, down to the stalk. And now. stage by
stage, halt by halt, the arbutus is shorn bare.
The vagabonds do not return to their win-

'55

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'^!-.-»,
^"^

a .

The Life of the Caterpillar

ter dwelling, which has become too closely
cramped. They reassemble in groups and
weave, here, there and everywhere, shapeless
tents, temporary huts, abandoned for others
as the pasturage round about becomes ex-
hausted. The denuded boughs, to all seem-
ing ravaged by fire, take on the look of
squalid drying-grounds hung with rags.

In June, h-'.ving acquired their full growth,
the caterpillars leave the arbutus-tree, descend
to earth and spin themselves, amid the dead
leaves, a niggardly cocoon, in which the in-
sect's hairs to some extent supplement its silk.
A month later, the Bombyx appears.

In his final dimensions, the caterpillar mea-
sures nearly an inch and a quarter in length.
His costume does not lack richness or origin-
ality: a black skin with a double row of
orange specks on the back; long grey hairs
arranged in bunches; short, snow-white tufts
on the sides; and a couple of brown-velvet
protuberances on the first two rings of the ab-
domen and also on the last ring but one.

The most remarkable feature, however,
consists of two tiny craters, always open wide ;
two cunningly fashioned goblets which might
have been wrought from a drop of red seal-

156

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The Arbutus Caterpillar

ing-wax. The sixth and seventh segments of
the abdomen are the only ones that bear these
vermilion goblets, placed in the middle of the
back. I do not know the function of these
little cups. Perhaps they should be regarded
as organs of information, similar to the Pine
Processionary's dorsal mouths.

The Arbutus Caterpillar is much .Ireaded
in the village. Woodcutters, faggot-binders,
brushwood-g.uiierers, all are unanimous in re-
viling him. They have such a painfully vivid
memory of the Irritation that, when I listen
to them, I can hardly repress a movement of
the shoulders to relieve the imaginary itching
in the middle of my back. I seem to feel .he
arbutus-faggot, laden with its glowing rags,
rubbing my bare skin.

It is, it appears, a disagreeable job to cut
down the shrub alive with caterpillars during
the hottest part of the d^y and to shake, under
the blows of the axe, that sort of upas-tree,
shedding poison in its shade. As for me, I
have no complaint to make of my relations
with the ravager of the arbutus. I have very
often handled him ; I have applied his fur to
the tips of my fingers, my neck and even my
face, for hours at a time; I have ripped up

157

II.-'

The Life of the Caterpillar

the nests to extract their populations for the
purpose of my researches; but I have never
been inconvenienced. Save in exceptional cir-
cumstances, the approach of the moult per-
haps, this would need a skin less tough than
mine.

The thin skin of a child does not enjoy the
same immunity, as witness little Paul, who,
having helped me to empty some nests and to
collect the inhabitants with my forceps, was
for hours scratching his neck, which was dot-
ted with red wheals. My ingenuous assistant
was proud of his sufferings in the cause of
science, which resulted from heedlessness and
also perhaps from bravado. In twenty-four
hours, the trouble disappeared, without leav-
ing any serious consequences.

All this hardly tallies with the painful ex-
periences of which the woodcutters talk. Do
they exaggerate? That is hardly credible;
they are so unanimous. Then something must
have been lacking in my experiments- : the pro-
pitious moment apparently, the proper degree
of maturity in the caterpillar, the high tem-
perature which aggravates the poison.

To show itself in its full severity, the urtica-
tion demands the cooperation of certain un-

is8

■ t ;

'; 1

The Arbutus Caterpillar

defined circumstances; and this cooperation
was wanting. Chance perhaps will one day
teach me more than I want to know; I shall
be attacked in the manner familiar to the
woodcutters and shall pass a night in torment,
tossing and turning as though on a bed of
live coals.

What the direct contact of the caterpillar
did not teach me the artifices of chemistry will
demonstrate with a violence which I was far
from expecting. I treat the caterpillar with
ether, just as I treated the slough of the Pine
Processionary. The number of the creatures
taken for the infusion — they are pretty small
as yet, are scarcely half the size which
they will attain when mature — is about a
hundred. After a couple of days' maceration,
I filter the liquid and leave it to evaporate
freely. With the few drop that remain I
soak a square of blotting-paper folded in four
and apply it to the inner surface of my fore-
arm, with a thin rubber sheet and a bandage.
It is an exact repetition of what I did with
the Pine Processionary.

Applied In the morning, the blister hardly
takes effect until the following night. Then
by degrees the irritation becomes unendurable ;

159

jiif--;

;ii

The Life of the Caterpillar

and the burning se;isation Is so acute that I am
tormented "ery moment with the desire to
tear off ti l .ndage. However, I hold out,
but at th' ^ t of a sleepless, feverish night.

How -li I now understand what the
woodcutters tell me 1 I had less than a square
inch of skin subjected to the torture. What
would it be if I had my back, shoulders, neck,
face and arms tormented in this fashion? I
pity you with all my heart, you labourers who
are troubled by the hateful creature.

On the morrow, the infernal paper is re-
moved. The skin is red and swollen, co-
vered with tiny pimples whence ooze drops
of serous fluid. For five days the itching per-
sists, with a sharp, burning pain, and the run-
ning frcTi the pimples contiiiues. Then the
dead skin dries and comes off in scabs. All is
over, save the redness, v/hich is still percep-
tible a month later.

The demonstration is accomplished; the
Arbutus Caterpillar, capable as he is of pro-
ducing, under certain conditions, the same ef-
fects which I obtain by artificial means, fully
deserves his odious reputation.

i6o

CHAPTER VIII

AN INSECT VIRUS

QNE Step forward has been taken, but only
Y a very I.ttle one as yet, in the problem of
the stinging caterpillars. The drenching with
ether teaches us that hairiness plays a very
secondary part in the matter. With its tiust
of broken bristles, which the least breath
wafts m all directions, it bothers us by depo-
sit.n<? and fixing its irritant coating upon us •
but tnis virus does not originate in the crea-'
ture s fleece: it comes from elsewhere. What
IS the source of it ?

• ^ ^J^^ enter into a hv, details. Perhaps,
m so doing, I shall be of service to the novice,
i. he subject, which is very simple and sharply
defined, will show us how one question gives
rise to another; how experimental tests con-
firm or upset hypotheses, which are, as it were
a temporary scaffolding; and, lastly, how
logic, that severe examiner, leads us by de-
grees to generalities which are far more im-
.jortant than anything that we were led to
anticipate at the outset.

i6i

.JM'Mf

li'.' If

The Life of the Caterpillar

And, first of all, does the Pine Procession-
ary possess a special glandular structure
which elaborates the virus, as do, for in-
stance, the poison-glands of the Wasps and
Bees? By no means. Anatomy shows that
the internal structure of the stinging cater-
pillar is similar to that of the harmless one.
There is nothing more and nothing less.

The poisonous product, of unlocalized ori-
gin, results, therefore, from a general process
in which the entire organism is brought into
play. It should, in consequence, be found in
the blood, after the manner of urea in higher
animals. This is a suggestion of grave im-
port, but after all quite valueless without the
conclusive verdict of actual experiment.

Five or six Proccssionaries, pricked with
the point of a needle, furnish me with a few
drops of blood. I allow these to soak into a
small square of blotting-paper, which I then
apply to my fore-arm with a waterproof
bandage. It is not without a certain anxiety'
that I await the outcome of the experiment.
The result will show whether the conclusions
already forming in my mind will receive a
solid basis or vanish into thin air.

At a late hour of the night, the pain wakes

162

il i

"m-

An Insect Virus

me, a pain which this time is an intellectual
joy. My anticipations were correct. The
blood does indeed contain the venomous sub-
stance. It causes itching, swelling, a burning
sensation, an exudation of serum and, lastlyT
a sheddmg of the skin. I learn more than I
had hoped to learn. The test is more valuable
than that of mere contact with the caterpillar
could have been. Instead of treating myself
with the small quantity of poison with which
the hairs are smeared, I have gone to the
source of the irritant substance and I thereby
gam an increase of discomfort.

Very happy in my suffering, which sets me

ng thus: the virus in the blood cannot be a
living substance, one that takes part in the
working of the organism; it is rather, like
urea, a form of decay, an offthrow of the vital
process a waste product which is expelled as
and when it forms. If this be the case, I
ought to find It in the caterpillar's droppings,
which are made up of both the digestive and
the urinary residues.

. Let us describe the new experiment, which
is no less positive than the last. I leave a few
pinches of very dry droppings, such as are

163

i.!

ii

Ui

The Life of the Caterpillar

found in abundance In the old nests, to soak
for two days in sulphuric ether. The liquid,
coloured as it is with the chlorophyll of the
caterpillar's food, turns a dirty green. Then
I repeat precisely the process which I men-
tioned when I wanted to prove the innocuous-
ness of the hairs deprived of their poisonous
varnish. I refer to it a second time in order
thoroughly to explain the method pursued and
to save repetition in the various experiments
undertaken.

The infusion i» filtered, spontaneously eva-
porated and reduced to a few drops, with
which I soak njy stinger. This consists of a
small piece of blotting-paper, folded in four
to increase the thickness of the pad and to
give it a greater power of absorption. An
area of a square inch o*- 1. ss suffices ; in some
cases it is even too much. A novice in this
kind of research-work, I was too lavish with
the liniment; and in return for my generosity
I had such a bad time that I make a point of
warning any reader desirous of repeating tho
experiment upon his own person.

Fully soaked, the square of paper is applied
to the fore-arm, on the inner surface, where
the skin is more tender. A sheet of rubber

164

An Insect Virus

covers it and, being waterproof, guards
against the loss of the poison. Finally, a
linen bandage keeps the whole in place.

On the afternoon of the 4th of June 1897,
a memorable date for me, I test, as I have
just said, the etheric extract of the Procession-
ary s droppings. All Yght long, I feel a vio-
lent Itching, a burning sensation and shooting
pains. On the following day, after twenty
hours of contact, I remove the dressing.

The venomous liquid, too lavishly employed
in my fear of failure, has considerably over-
flowed the limits of the square of paper. The
parts which it has touched and still more the
portion covered by the -ad are swollen and
very red; moreover, in the latter case, the
skin IS ridged, wrinkled and mortified. It
smarts a little and itches; and that is all.

On the following day, the swelling becomes
more pronounced and goes deep into the mus-
cles, which, when touched with the finger,
throb like an inflamed cheek. The colour is
a bright carmine and extends all round the
spot which the paper coshered. This is due to
the -scape of some of the liquid. There is a
pit :. ful discharge of serum, oozing from the
sort ii tiny drops. The smarting and itching

I6S

tiii»*

u

^^- ft.

■'M.:.

The Life of the Caterpillar

increase and become so intense, especially du-
ring the night, thaf, to get a little sleep, I am
driven to employ a palliative, vaseline with
borax and a lint dressing.

In five days' time, it has developed into a
hideous ulcer, which looks more painful than
it really is. The red, swollen flesh, quivering
and denuded of its epidermis, provokes com-
miseration. The person who night and morn-
ing renews my dressing of lint and vaseline is
almost sick at the sight.

"One would think," she says, "that the
dogs had been gnawing your arm. I do hope
you won't try any more of those horrible de-
coctions."

I allow my sympathetic nurse to talk away
and am already meditating further experi-
ments, some of which will be equally painful.

0 sacred truth, what can rival thy power over
us mortals! Thou turnest my petty torment
into contentment; thou makest me rejoice in
my flayed arm I What shall I gain by it all ?

1 shall know why a wretched caterpillar sets
us scratching ourselves. Nothing more; and
that is enough for me.

Three weeks later, new skin is forming, but
is covered all over with painful little pimples.

i66

An Insect Virus

The swelling diminishes; the redness persists
and IS still very marked. The effect of the
infernal paper lasts a long time. At the end
of a month, I still feel an itching, a burning
irritation, which is Intensified by the warmth
of the bed-clothes. At last, a fortnight later,
all has disappeared but the redness, of which
I shall retain the marks for a long time yet,
though It grows gradually fainter and fainter.
It will take three months or more to vanish
altogether.

We now have some light on the problem :
the Processionary's virus is certainly an off-
throw of the organic factory, a waste product
of the living edifice. The caterpillar discards
It with his excrement. But the material of
the droppings has a twofold origin: the
greater part represents the digestive residuum;
the rest, in a much smaller proportion, is com-
posed of the urinary products. To which of
the two does the virus belong? Before going
farther, let us permit ourselves a digression
which will assist us in our subsequent en-
quiries. Let us ask what advantages the Pro-
cesslonary derives from his urticating product.

I already hear the answer:

"It is a means of protection, of defence.
167

f ■<■

'Hk'}

i he Life ot* tlie Caterpillar

<4

the

With his poisoned mane, he repels
enemy."

I do not clearly perceive the bearing of this
explanation. I think of the creature's recog-
nized enemies: of the larva of Calosoma
sycophanfa, which lives in the nests of the
Processionary of the Oak and gobbles up the
inhabitants with never a thought cf their burn-
ing fleece ; of the Cuckoo, another mighty con-
sumer, so we are told, of the same caterpillars,
who gorges on them to the point of implant-
ing in his gizzard a bristling coat of their
h;.irt.

I am not aware if the Processionary of
the Pine pays a like tribute. I do know of
at least one of his exploiters. This is a
Dermestes,* who establishes himself in the
silken city and feeds upon the remains of the
defunct caterpillars. This ghoul assures us
of the existence of other consumers, all fur-
nished with stomachs expressly fashioned for
such highly-seasoned fare. For every har-
vest of living creatures there is always a har-
vester.

No, the theory of a special virus, expressly
prepared to defend the Processionary and his
lA Bicon-heetk.— Translator's Note.

l68

An Insect Virus

emulators In urticatloii, is not the last word on
the subject. I shouM find It diflficult to believe
in such a prerogative. Why have these cater-
pillars, more than others, need of protection?
What reasons would make of them a caste
apart, endowed with an exceptional defensive
venom? The part which they play in the en-
tomological world does not differ from that oi
other caterpillars, hairy or smooth. It is the
naked caterpillars who, in default of a mane
capable of striking awe into the assailant,
ought, one would think, to arm themselves
against danger and impregnate themselves
with corrosives, instead of remaining a meek
and easy prey. Is it likely that the shaggy,
bristling caterpillar should anoint his fleece
with a formidable cosmetic and his smooth-
coated kinsman be unfamiliar with the che-
mical properties of the poison beneath his
satin skin! These contradictions do not in-
spire confidence.

Have we not here, rather, a property com-
mon to all caterpillars, smooth-skinned or
hairy? Among the latter, there might be
some, just a few, who, under certain special
conditions which will need to be defined,
would be quick to reveal by urtication the

169

^^ ' '^'

i

Hktt

The Life of the Caterpillar

venomous nature of their organic refuse;
the others, the vast majority, living outside
these conditions, even though endowed with
the necessary product, would be inexpert at
the stinging business and would not produce
irritation by contact. In all, the same virus
is to be found, resulting from an identical vital
process. Sometimes it is brought into promin-
ence by the itching which it produces; some-
times, indeed most often, it remains latent,
unrecognized, if our artifices do not intervene.

What shall these artifices be? Something
very simple. I address myself to the Silk-
worm. If there be an inoffensive caterpillar
in the world, it is certainly he. Women and
children take him up by the handful in our
Silkworm-nurseries ; and their delicate fingers
are none the worse for it. The satin-skinned
caterpillar is perfectly innocuous to a skin al-
most as tender as his own.

But this lack of caustic venom is only ap-
parent. I treat with ether the excretions of
the Silkworm; and the infusion, concentrated
into a few drops, is tested according to the
usual method. The result is wonderfully de-
finite. A smarting sore on the arm, similar in
its mode of appearance and in its effects to

170

I!

■:iP>.:-

,'W' "f-Vs

♦1

An Insect Virus

that produced by the droppings of the Proces-
sionary, assures me that logic was right.

Yes, the virus which makes one scratch so
much, which bhsters snd eats away the skin,
is not a defensive product vested in only a few
caterpillars. I recognize it, with its invariable
properties, even in a caterpillar which at first
sight appears as though it could not possess
anything of the kind.

The Silkworm's virus, besides, is not un-
known in my village. The casual observation
of the peasant-woman has outstripped the
precise observation of the man of science. The
women and girls entrusted with the rearing of
the Silkworm — the magnanarelles as they
are called — complain of certain tribulations
caused, they say, by Ion verin di maj^nan, the
Silkworms' poison. This trouble consists of
a violent itching of the eyelids, which become
red and swollen. In the case of the more
susceptible, there is a rash and the skin peels
off the fore-arm, which the turned-up sleeves
fail to protect during work.

I now know the causr of this little trouble,
my plucky mapiauarclles. It is not contact
with the worm that afflicts you ; you need have
no fear of handling him. It is only the liiter

II

The Life of the Caterpillar

that you need distrust. There, jumbled up
with the remains of the mulberry-leaves, is a
copious mass of droppings, impregnated with
the substance which has just so painfully eaten
into my skin ; there and there only is lou verin
as you call it. '

It is a relief mer :y to know the cause of
one s trouble; but I will provide you with an-
other consolation. When you remove the lit-
ter and renew the leaves, you should raise the
irritant dust as little as possible; you should
avoid lifting your hands to your face, above
all to your eyes; and it is just as well to turn
down your sleeves in order to protect your
arms. If you take these precautions, you will
sutter no unpleasantness.

The successful result obtained with the Silk-
worm caused me to foresee a similar success
with any caterpillar that I might come across.
1 he facts fully confirmed my expectations. I
tested the stercoral pellets of various cater-
pi ars, not selected, but just as the hazard of
collecting provided them: the Great Tortoise-
shell, the Heath Fritillary, the Large Cab-
bage Butterfly, the Spurge Hawk-moth, the
Great Peacock Moth, the Death's-head Moth,
the Puss-moth, the Tiger-moth and the Arbu-

172

An Insect Virus

tus LIparis. All my tests, with not a single
exception, brought about stinging, of various
oegrees of violence, it is true. I attribute
these differences in the result to the greater
or lesser quantities of the virus employed, for
It is impossible to measure the dose.

So the urticating excretion is common to all
the caterpillars. By a very unexpected rever-
sion of the usual order of things, the popular
repugnance is well-founded; prejudice be-
comes truth: all caterpillars arc venomous.
We must draw a distinction, however: with
the same venomous properties, some are inof-
fensive and others, far less numerous, are to
be feared. Whence comes this difference?

I note that the caterpillars marked out as
stinging live in communities and weave them-
selves dwellings of silk, in which thev stay for
long periods. Moreover, they are furry Of
this number are the Pine Processionary, the
Oak Processionary and the caterpillars of
various Lipares.

Let us consider the first-named in parti-
cular. His nest, a voluminous bag spun at
the tip of a branch, is magnificent in its silky
whiteness, on the outside; Inside, it is a dis-
gusting cesspit. The colony remains in it all

i73

4u

!'^*^.

II

;i =

'\

The Life of the Caterpillar

day and for the greater part of the night. It
sallies forth in procession only in the late
hours of twilight, to browse upon the adjacent
foliage. This long internment leads to a con-
siderable accumulation of droppings In the
heart of the dwelling.

From all the threads of this labyrinth hang
chaplets of these droppings; the walls are
upholstered with them in all the corridors;
the little narrow chambers are encumbered
with them. From a nest the size of a
man's head I have obtained, with a sieve,
over three-quarters of a pint of stercoral
pellets.

Now it is in the midst of this ordure that
the caterpillars live and have their being; in
the midst of it they move, swarm and sleep.
The results of th'r, utter contempt for the
rules of cleanliness are obvious. Certainly,
the Processionary does not soil his coat by
contact with those dry pellets; he leaves his
home with his costume neat and glossy, sug-
gesting not a suspicion of uncleanliness. No
matter: by constantly rubbing against the
droppings, his bristles are inevitably smeared
with virus and their barbs poisoned. The
caterpillar becomes Irritant, because his man-

174

I

iMBa«s»« -'- W^sri

An Insect Virus

net of life subjects him to prolonged contact
with his own ordure.

Now consider the Hedgehog Caterpillar.
Why IS he harmless, despite his fierce and
hirsute aspect? Because he lives in isolation
and IS always on the move. His mane, apt
though It be to collect and retain irritant part-
icles, will never give us the itch, for the
simple reason that the caterpillar does not lie
on his excretions. Distributed all over the
fields and far from numerous, owing to the
caterpillar's solitary habits, the droppings,
though poisonous, cannot transfer their pro-
perties to a fleece which does not come into
contact with them. If the Hedgehog lived
in a community, in a nest serving as a cess-
pit, he would be the foremost of our stinginc
caterpillars. *

At first sight, the barrack-rooms of the
Silkworm-nurseries seem to fulfil the condi-
tions necessary to the surface venom of the
worms. Each change of litter results in the
removal of basketfuls of droppings from the
trays. Over this heaped-up ordure the Silk-
worms swarm. How is it that they do not
acquire the poisonous properties of their own
excrement ?

175

''"■♦♦♦fci-"'-

•i

*5'^

The Life of the Caterpillar

I see two reasons. In the first place, they
are hairless; and a brushlike coat may well
be indispensable to the collection of the virus.
In the second place, far from lying in the
filth, they live above the soiled stratum, being
largely separated from it by the bed of leaves,
which is renewed several times a day. Despite
crowding, the population of a tray has no-
thing that can be compared with the ordmary
habits of the Processionary; and so it remains
harmless, in spite of its stercoral toxin.

These f rst enquiries lead us to conclusion:*
which themselves are very remarkable. All
caterpillars excrete an urticating matter,
which is identical throughout the series. But,
if the poison is to man! est itself and to cause
us that characteristic itching, it is indispensa-
ble that the caterpillar shall dwell in a com-
munity, spending long periods in the nest, a
silken bag laden with droppings. These fur-
nish the virus; the caterpillar's hairs collect
it and transfer it to us.

The time has come to tackle the problem
from another point of view. Is this for-
midable matter which always accompanies the
excretions a digestive residuum? Is it not
rather one of those waste substances which

17G

•;t;:

All Insect Virus

the organism engenders while at work, waste
substances designated by the general appel-
lation of urinary products?

To isolate these products, to collect them
separately, would scarcely be practicable, if
we did not have recourse to what follows on
the metamorphosis. Every Moth, on emer-
ging from her chrysalis, rejects a copious
mixture of ur.c acid and various humours of
which very little is as yet known. It may
be compared with the broken plaster of a
building rebuilt on a new plan and represents
the by-products of the mighty labours accom-
plished in the transfigured insect. These re-
mains are essentially urinary products, with
no admixture of digested foodstuffs.

To what insect shall I apply for this re-
siduum? Chance does many things. I col-
iect, from the old elm-tree in the garden,
about a hundred curious caterpillars. They
have seven rows of prickles of an amber yel-
low, a sort of bush with four or five branches.
J shall learn from the Butterfly that they be-
long to the Great Tortoisesheil (Vanessa
polychloros, LiN.).

Reared on elm-leaves under a wire-gauze
cover, my caterpillars undergo their trans-

177

..i»t

The Life of the Caterpillar

formation towards the end of May. Their
chrysalids are specked with brown on a
whitish ground and display on the under sur-
face six radiant silvery spots, a sort of decora-
tive tinsel, like so many mirrors. Fixed by
the tail with a silken pad, they hang from the
top of the dome, swinging at the least move-
ment and emitting vivi i flashes of light from
their reflectors. My children are amazed at
this living chandelier. It is a treat for them
when I allow them to come and admire it in
my animal studio.

Another surprise awaits them, this time a
tragic one, however. A fortnight later, the
Butterflies emerge. I have placed under the
cover a large sheet of white paper, which will
receive the desired products. I call the child-
ren. What do they see on the paper?

Large spots of blood. Under their very
eyes, from up there, at the top of the dome,
a butterfly lets fall a great red drop : plop !
No joy for the children to-day; anxiety rather,
almost fear.

I send them away, saying to them :

"Be sure and remember, kiddies, what you
have just seen; and, if ever any one talks to
you about showers of blood, don't be silly and

X78

An Insect Vir

us

1

frightened. A pretty Butterfly is the cause
of those blood-red stains, which have been
known to terrify country-folk. The moment
she IS born, she casts out, in the form of a
red hquid, the remains of her old caterpillar
body, a body remodelled and reborn in a
beautiful shape. That is the whole secret."
When my artless visitors have departed, I
resume my examination of tho rain of blood
falhng under the cover. Still clinging to the
shell of its chrysalis, each Tortoiseshell ejects
and sheds upon the paper a great red drop,
which, if left standing, deposits a powdery
pink sediment, compnseu of urates. The
liquid is now a deep crimson.

When the whole thing is perfectly dry, I
cut out of the spotted paper some of the
richer stains and steep the bits In ether. The
spots on the paper remain as red as at the
outset; and the liquid assumes a light lemon
tint. When reduce by evaporation to a few
drops, this liquid provides me with what I
require to soak my square of blotting-paper.

ui %u^^^^ ^ ^^^' ^° ^^'^'"^ repeating my-
self? The effects of the new caustic are pre-
cisely the same as those which I experienced
whtn I used the droppings of the Proces-

179

IM i

The Life of the Caterpillar

n

1 i V

■^

I

sionary. The same itching, the same burning,
the same swelling with the flesh throbbing
and inflamed, the same serous exudation, the
same peeling of the skin, the same persistent
redness, which lingers for three or four
months, long after the ulceration Itself has
disappeared.

Without being very painful, the sore is so
irksome and above all looks so ugly that I
swear never to let myself in for it again.
Henceforth, without waiting for the thing to
eat Into my flesh, I shall remove the cater-
pillar plaster as soon as I feel a conclusive
Itching.

In the course of these painful experiences,
friends upbraid me with not having recourse
to the assistance of some animal, such as the
Guinea-pig, that stock victim of the physiolo-
gists. I take no note of tlieir reproaches.
The animal is i stcic. It suys hothing ol its
sufferings. If, the torture being a little too
intense, it complains, I am in no position to
Interpret its cries exactly or to attribute them
to a definite impression.

The Guinea-pig will not say:

"It smarts, it itches, it burns."

He will simply say:
i8o

An Insect Virus

'That hurts."
. As I wi f,t to know the details of the sensa-
tions exj-erienced, the best thing is ro resort
to my own skin, the only witness on whose evi-
cJence I can rely implicitly.

At the risk of provoking a smile, I will
venture on another confession. As I begin
to see mto the matter more clearly, I hesitate
to torture or destroy a single creature in (iod's
great community. The life of the least of
these IS a thmg to be respected. We can
take It away, but we cannot give it. Peace
to those innocents, so little interested in our
investigations I What does our restless
curiosity matter to their calm and sacred
Ignorance? If we wish to knou , let
us pay the price ourselv( as far as
possible. The acquisition of an idea
IS well worth the sacrifice of a bit of
skin.

The Elm Tortoiseshell, with her rain of
blood, may leaxe us to a certain extent in
doubt. Might not this strange red substance,
with Its unusual appearance, contain a poison
which IS likewise exceptional ."^ I address my-
self therefore to the Mulberry Bombyx, to
the Pine Bombyx and to the Great Peacock.

i8i

^■':-4.

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(ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2)

_J APPLIED IIVMGE Ir

^^ 1653 East Mom Street

T^ Rochester. New York 14609 USA

^5 (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone

^5 '''6) 288 - S989 - Fox

The Life of the Caterpillar

I collect the uric excretions ejected by the
newly hatched Moths.

This time, the liquid is whitish, sullied here
and there with uncertain tints. There is no
blood-red colouration; but the result is the
same. The virulent energy manifests itself in
the most definite manner. Therefore the Pro-
cessionary's virus exists equally in all cater-
pillars, in all Butterflies and Moths emerging
from the chrysalis; and this virus is a by-
product of the organism, a urinary product.

The curiosity of our minds is insatiable.
The moment a reply is obtained, a fresh quest-
ion arises. Why should the Lepidoptera
alone be endowed in this manner? The or-
ganic labours accomplished within them can-
not differ greatly, as to the nature of the
materials, from those presiding over the
maintenance of life in other insects. There-
fore these others also elaborate a by-product
which has stinging powers. This can be veri-
fied— and that forthwith — with the elements
at my disposal.

The first reply is furnished by Cetonia
fioricola, of which Beetle I collect half a
dozen chrysalids from a heap of leaves half-
converted into mould. A box receives my

182

w^"^^:^

An Insect Virus

find, laid on a sheet of white paper, on which
the urinary fluid of the perfect insect will fall
as soon as the caskets are broken.

The weather is favourable and I have not
ongto wait. The thing is done: the mat-
ter rejected is white, ti.c usual colour of these
residua, in th.- great majority of insects, at the
mome.' of t .e metamorphosis. Though by
no means abundant, it nevertheless provokes
on my fore-arm a violent itching, together
with mortificadon of the skin, which comes
off in flakes. The reason why it does not dis-
play a more distinct sore is that I judged it
prudent to end the experiment. The burning
and Itching tell me enough as to the results of
a contact unduly prolonged.

Now to the Hymenoptera. I have not in
my possession, I regret to say, any of those
with whom my rearing-chambers used for-
merly to provide me, whether Honey-bee or
Hunting Wasps I have only a Green Saw-
fly, whose larva lives in numerous families on
he leaves of the alder. Reared under cover,
this larva provides me with enough tiny black
droppings to fill a thimble. That is sufficient :
the urtication is quite definite.

I take next the insects with incomplete
183

'&ir*^^Ti

s; , ti-

!

11

% ^

The Life of the Caterpillar

transformations. My recent rearings have
given me quite a collection of excretions ema-
nating from the Orthoptera. I consult those
of the Vine Ephippiger^ and the Great Grey
Locust. Both sting to a degree which once
more makes me regret my lavish hand.

We will be satisfied with this; indeed my
arms demand as much, for, tattooed with red
squares, they refuse to make room for fresh
brandings. The exanples are sufficiently
varied to impose the following conclusion : the
Processionary's virus is found in a host of
other insects, apparently even in the entire
series. It is a urinary product inherent in the
entomological organism.

The dejections of insects, especially those
evacuated at the end of the metamorphosis,
contain or are even almost entirely composed
of urates. Can the stinging material be the
inevitable associate of uric acid? It should
then form part of the excrement of the bird
and the reptile, which in both cases is very
rich in urates. Here again is a suspicion
worthy of verification by experiment.

For the moment it is impossible for me
to question the reptile ; It is easy, on the other

^A species of Grasshopper.— Jraw/a/or'j Note.

184

.^^t.H'jim:-'^:

'^m^

An Insect Virus

S;*"!"'"™^".' "•= ''''•''• »''«'« "ph will

?uffi«. I accept what is offered by chance an
msecfvorous bird, the Swallow, and a eram,"
mvorous b,rd, the Goldfinch. Well'.heir u"

from ti r'' ■ '"'"" "^''""y «P""«d
sliXi,- ?'"'»' '•""'"^' h^ve not the
sl.ghtes st,ng,ng effect. The virus that causes
tchmg ,s mdependent therefore of uric ac d
It accompanies ,t in the insect class, withou
be.ng.ts .nvariable concomitant e^^ else-

to totlT T"^"' 'r "* "> '»'«■ "»"><=Iy.

to isolate the stinging element and to obtain
;t m quantities permitting of precise °nquiri«

a materiT^r '"'"" ■"'«''' '""> '" «™"nt

thaTies ff ir '""^y ""^'^ ">" of ""■
tnariaes, if it does not exceed it. The oi.i.«>

reLnt "^""''^^^y'- but I should want
Xrsen^fo?'"h' KT^'^^^^^^^y' « -^^^
«icted as I am with a terrible ailment- imne
cun.os.ty, the searcher's habitual lot ^

185

-.*iEfc.^rrvui«S-v ^,

r^H^i-':

i'4

CHAPTER IX

THE PSYCHES: THE LAYING

¥N THE springtime, old walls and dusty
•*■ roads harbour a surprise for whoso has
eyes to see. Tiny faggots, for no apparent
reason, set themselves in motion and make
their way along by sudden jerks. The inani-
mate comes to life, the immovable stirs. How
does this come about? Look closer and the
motive power will stand revealed.

Enclosed within the moving bundle is a
fairly well-developed caterpillar, prettily
striped in black and white. Seeking for food
or perhaps fr- a spot where the transforma-
tion can be effected, he hurries along timidly,
attired in a queer rig-out of twigs from which
nothing emerges except the head and the front
part of the body, which is furnished with six
short legs. At the least alarm he goes right
in and does not budge again. This is the
whole secret of the little roaming bundle of
sticks.

The faggot caterpillar belongs to the
Psyche group, whose name conveys an allu-

i86

B»jey iff

C^-'^gtn^

The Psyches: th<

Laying

soul. We must not allow this phrase to
carry our thoughts to loftier heights than is
mtmg. I he nomenclator, with his rather
arcumscnbed view of the world, did not
trouble about the soul when inventing his de-
scr,pt,ve label. He simply wanted a pretty
name; and certamly he could have hit on no-
thing better.

To protect himself from the weather, our
ch,l y bare-skmned Psyche builds himself a
portable shelter, a travelling cottage which
the owner never leaves until he becomes a
Moth. It ,s something better than a hut on
wheels with a thatched roof to it: it is a
hermit s frock, made of an unusual sort of
frieze. In the valley of the Danube the
peasant wears a goatskin cloak fastened with
a belt of rushes. The Psyche dons an even
more rustic apparel. He makes himself a suit
of clothes out of hop-poles. It is true tha
beneath this rude conglomeration, which
would be regular hair-shirt to a skTn as

Th 'n 'u ^'i ^' P"^^ ' '^'^'^ J'n>ng of silk'
The Clythra Beetle garbs himself in pottery
this one dresses himself in a faggot
In April, on the walls of my chief observa-
187

i-T

I

i •

l#*Tir^\S6i.

•♦h.

The Life of the Caterpillar

tory, that famous pebbly acre with its wealth
of insect life, I find the Psyche who is to fur-
nish me with my most circumstantial and de-
tailed records.^ He is at this period in the
torpor of the approaching metamorphosis. As
we can ask him nothing else for the moment,
let us look into the construction and composi-
tion of his faggot.

It is a not irregular structure, spindle-
shaped and about an inch and a half long.
The pieces that compose it are fixed in front
and free at the back, are arranged anyhow
and would form a rather ineffective shelter
against the sun and rain if the recluse had no
other protection than his thatched roof.

The word thatch is suggested to my mind
by a summary inspection of what I see, but it
is not an exact expression in this case. On the
contrary, graminaceous straws are rare, to the
great advantage of the future family, which,
as we shall learn presently, would find nothing
to suit them in jointed planks. What pre-
dominates is remnants of very small stalks,
light, soft and rich in pith, such as are pos-
sessed by various Chicoriaceae. I recognize in

^Psyche unicolor. HuFN.; P. graminella, SCHIFFER-
itijujcs..— Author's Note.

i88

';:i

!1 I

w

^^^0^

■^^^^si^-^ '.w^-i^M'Ms^ms^

The Psyches: the Laying

particular the floral stems of the mouscear
havvkweed and the Nimes pterotheca. Nex[
come b.ts of grass-leaves, scaly twigs provided
by the cypress-tree and all sorts of litde st cks
coarse materials adopted for the lack of any:
thing better. Lastly, if the favourite cylin-

times fimshed off w.th an ample flounced tip.
pet, that IS to say, with fragments of dry
leaves of any kind. "

Incomplete as it is, this list shows us that
the caterpillar apart from his preference for
Pithy morsels, has no very exclusive tastes
He employs indifferently anything that he
comes upon provided that it be Hght. very
dry softened by long exposure to th! a r and
of suitable dimensions. All his finds, if they
come anywhere near his estimates, are used
aW t ^'^"^' Y'^^°"^ ^"y alte'rations or

The C " ' '^T '^ ^^ P^°P^^ ^'-^'^^
to form ^ "ot trjni the laths that go

them r" ^^ «f.^^"s them as he finds

ncm. t K IS limited to imbricatinff

them one arter the other by fixing them at Th!

In order to l.nd itself to the movements of
' Journeymg caterpillar and in particular to
189

th

B" t

">.■■ I'i^w^'^'l

f^i^ssmas^::^^.

''ir mwLi'

fiWP

The Life of the Caterpillar

• fh

facilitaie the action of the head and legs
when a new piece is to be placed in position,
the fro.it pnrt of the sheath rccjuires a special
structure, I lere a casing of beams is no
longer allovvab'', for their len}j;th ami stiff-
ness would hamper the artisan and even make
his work impossible; what is essential here
is a flexible neck, able to bend in all direc-
tions. The assemblage of stakes does, in
fact, end suddenly at some distance from the
fore-part and is there replaced by a collar
in which the silken wooi" is merely hardened
with very tiny ligneous particles, tending to
strengthen 'he material without impairing its
flexibility. This collar, which gives free
movement, is so important that all the Psycl es
make equal use of it, however much the rest
of the work may differ. All carry, in front
of the faggot of sticks, a yielding neck, soft
to the touch, formed inside of a web of pure
silk and velveted outside with a fine sawdust
which the caterpillar obtains by crushing with
his mandibles any sort of dry straw.

A similar velvet, bu^ lustreless and faded,
apparently through age, finishes the sheath at
the back, in the form of a rather long, bare
appendix, open at the end.

190

!::i

IMf-

!m^

Msl?

&MW

^

The Psyches: the Laying

Let us now remove the outside of the straw
envelope, shredding it piecenical. The demo-
lition gives us a varying number of joists : I
have counted ;:s many :,s eighty and more.
I he rum that remains is a cy mJrical sheath
wherem we discover, from one end to the
other, the structure which we perceived at the
front and rear, the two parts which are natu-
rally bare. The tissue cvervwhere is of very
stoui- slk, which resists without breaking
when pulled by the fingers, a smooth tissue,
beautifully white inside, drab and wrinkled
outside, where it bristles with encrusted woody
particles. '

There will be an opportunity later to dis-
cover by what means the caterpillar makes
himself so complicated a garment, in which
are laid one upon the othei-, in a definite
order, first, the extremely fine satin which is
in direct contact with the skin; next, the mixed
stuff, a sort of frieze dusted with ligneous
matter, which saves the silk and gives con-
sistency to the work; lastly, the surtout of
overlapping laths.

While retaining this general threefold ar-
rangement, the scabbard offers notable varia-
tions of structural detail in the '

h

1 i,

^rent

191

t|=ii»»f

hi

The Life of the Caterpillar

species. Here, for instance, is a second
Psyche,' the most belated of the three which
I have chanced to come upon. I mt\t him
towards the end of June, hurrying acro.os
some dusty path near the houses. His cases
surpass those of the previous species both in
size and in regularity of arrangement. They
form a thick coverlet, of many pieces, in which
I recognize here fragments of hollow stalks,
there bits of fine straw, with perhaps straps
formed of blades of grass. In front there
is never any mantilla of dead leaves, a trouble-
some piece of finery which, without being in
regular use, is pretty frequent in the costume
of the first-named species. At the back, no
long, denuded vestibule. Save for the indis-
pensable collar at the aperture, all the rest
is cased in logs. There is not much variety
about the thing, but, when all is said, fhere
is a certain elegance in its stern faultlessness.
The smallest in size and simplest in dress
is the third,* who is very common at ..:«: end
of winter on the walls, as well as in the fur-
rows of the barks of gnarled old trees, be they

*As far as can be judged from the case only, Psyche
febretta, Boyer de Fonscoujmbe. — Aut'r.or's Note.

*Fumea comitella and F. in*ertnedklla, Bkuand. — Au-
thor's Note.

.■A3V.I1i'J -

The Psyches: the L;

ying

•>l.vc.trccs. holm-oaks, dms or almost nny
(Hher. H.s case, a modest litrlc InmJlc, is
hanlly more than tuo-Hfths of an inch in
l^n^th. A dozen rotten straws, gleaned at
random and fixed close to one another in a
parallel direction, represent, with the silk
shea h h.s whole outlay on dress. It would
be difficult to clothe one's self more eco-
nomically.

This pigmy, apparently so uninteresting,
shall supply us with our first r ords of thJ
cunous hfe-story of the Psyches. [ gather
h.m m profusion in April and instal him in
a wire bell-jar. What he eats I know not
My Ignorance would be grievous under other
conditions; but at present I need not trouble
abou provisions. Taken from their walls
and trees, where they had suspended them-

littirr k'^'"" ^""^^-"^^^ion, most of my
■ttle Psyches are m the chrysalis state. A
few of them are still active. They hasten to
clamber to the top of the trellis-work; they
hx themselves there perpendicularly by ncins
of a little silk cushion; then everything is st^^ll
June comes to an end; and the male Moths
are hatched, leaving the chrysalid wrappe
half caught m the case, which remains fi^xed

193

'i^.

' i ■

y^mM

I.'

Hi
H

The Life of the Caterpillar

where It is and will remain there indefinitely
until dismantled by the weather. The emer-
gence is effected through the hinder end of
the bundle of sticks, the only way by which it
can be effected. Having permanently closed
the top opening, the real door of the house,
by fastening it to the support which he has
chosen, the caterpillar therefore has turned
the other way round and undergone his trans-
formation in a reversed position, which
enables the adult insect to emerge through the
outlf: made at the back, the only one now
free.

For that matter, this is the method fol-
lowed by all the Psyches. The case has two
apertures. The front one, which is more regu-
lar and more carefully constructed, is at the
caterpillar's service so long as larval activity
lasts. It is closed and firmly fastened to its
support at the time of the nymphosis. The
hinder one, which is faulty and even hidden
by the sagging of the sides, is at the Moth's
service. It does not really open until right
at the end, when pushed by the chrysalis or
the adult insect.

In their modest pearl-grey dress, with their
insignificant wing-equipment, hardly exceed

194

K-^'

P^

"■fr-H'

snj^*^:^.

mwf'

The Psyches; the Laying

i"r? stnf not' w>h"""" ,^^^ ' ^"^ ''"'^ ^^oths
are stiJJ not without elegance. Thev have

handsome feathery plumes for antenn J- the^r

wmgs are edged with delicate fringes Thev

i:i:Z%'f '"''r^^ ^^eH-Jarftheylt
tne ground, fluttering their wings; thev crowd

n'th 'ouS'h"-"'" ?'.^^^^^ -hich'LZg
Thev ali2 ^'^''"g"'^^" f^om the others

theiTplufeL""'" '''"" ^"^ ^^""^ ^'^^ --^h

This feverish agitation marks them as

tr7\LV''''\''^ ^^^'^ ^-d"- Th "one

mate Bu^.h '^''''' '^'^ °^ ^^^"^ ^"ds his
mate. But the coy one does not leave her

home. Thmgs happen very discreetly through

he w,cket left open at the free en'd of the

case Ihe male stands on the threshnlri J

IS over the wedding is finished. There is
no need for us to linger over these nupt a Is
■n whieh the parties eoncerned do not know
do not see each other. '

cases'iri'h- 1^£'"' '" ' S'»^' '"'>' the few

out of the sheath Jnd hows her t ^llT"
w-tehedness. Cal, that Me" f HgLVa" MotM

195

:■" I

•»i..-

The Life of the Caterpillar

One cannot easily get used to the idea of
such poverty. The caterpillar of the start was
no humbler-looking. There are no wings,
none at all; no silky fur either. At the tip
of the abdomen, a round, tufty pad, a crown
of dirty-white velvet; on each segment, in the
middle of the back, a large rectangular dark
patch: these are the sole attempts at orna-
ment. The mother Psyche renounces all the
beauty which her name of Moth promised.

From the centre of the hairy coronet a long
ovipositor stands out, consisting of two parts,
one stiff, forming the base of the implement!
the other soft and flexible, sheathed in the
first just as a telescope fits in its tube. The
laymg mother bends herself into a hook, grips
the lower end of her case with her six feet
and drives her probe into the back-window, a
wmdow which serves manifold purposes, al-
lowing of the consummation of the clande-
stine marriage, the emergence of the fertilized
bnde, the installation of the eggs and, lastly,
the exodus of the young family.

There, at the free end of her case, the
mother remains for a long time, bowed and
motionless. What can she be doing in this
contemplative attitude? She is lodging her

196

^■?C^'

The Psyches: the Laying
eggs in the house wh.Vf, »u . ■

i» bequeathing the 'al ^' ^"^ '=''' 'h'
heirs. Some thrtvl ™"^S'' '" h"

Positor is at las vithT" "'"-,'■""' "■= °>'i-
finished. "''" ''■"W"'vn. The laying is

on^he tdXtS 7„f ^-^."^'"^ -™«
'»ys the dan'g:rs ^fl:;:;;''; ''°- -^ al-
mother makes a ho..- /^t'°"- The fond
'he sole otLnt whi?h ^i/l''" ''""^ "^

d'Senee, she Possessed BetrersI'llT"^'"-
a rampart of her bodv r""."'",' she makes

vu'sively on the tSold ^/'hfr ho^" T
dies there, dries un th. j "°'"^' «^e

family eve; afrdeTthTn^r^'^ ^° ^^^
a breath of air to nf.V ^."""^l^" ^^^ident,
post. ' ^° "^^^^ ^e'- fall from he^

Let us nov open the cn<if t^
chrysah'd wrannit • 7 ^^ contains the

br^ch&h^'lih-rXtf'T

^bout o makeTis ."•"'^'" "ben he is

pass, takeradvatage^'of h™"^^ ""^ ""™-
'0 make a start for 1.,^' ''"^^'''^ ""te

'he dehcate Moth finds an%en ^pt^vfr^

197

■ ii f'j

iii^

4 *

t

It > ■ $

The Life of the Caterpillar

flight is possible, right in front of him. The
mother, unprovided with wings and plumes,
is not compelled to observe any such precau-
tions. Her cylindrical form, bare and differ-
ing but little from that of the caterpillar,
allows her to crawl, to slip into the narrow
passage and to come forth without obstacle.
Her cast chrysalid skin is, therefore, left
right at the back of the case, well covered by
the thatched roof.

And this is an act of prudence marked by
exquisite tenderness. The eggs, in fact, are
packed in the barrel, in the parchmentlike
wallet formed by the slough. The mother
has thrust her telescopic ovipositor to the bot-
tonj of that receptacle and has methodically
gone on laying until it is full. Not satisfied
with bequeathing her home and her velvet
coronet to her offspring, as a last sacrifice she
leaves them her skin.

With a view to observing at my ease the
events which are soon to happen, I extract
one of these chrysalid bags, stuffed with eggs,
from its faggot and place it by itself, beside
its case, in a glass tube. I have not long to
wait. In the first week of July, I find myself
all of a sudden in possession of a large family.

198

"Fl?^

^">fas^^'.f?rai^'^;

The Psyches: the Laying

tiara nda7.7.1,ng nh.te plush. Or to aban
don h,gh-flow„ language, let us sa cotton

nof ;?nVun f"' ' 'T'.! ™'y 'hi cap doe"
not SI and up from the head: it covers the

t e-Th-ris f ^"^-™«»" -ignVh tt
vemin Tt 'P""""' "'•'^""'^'^ for such
capT«icklL '' "■■'?'" '^°"' 8^"y. ^>!"> "'^-ir
floor With 7/"'7, P"P^"''i™l'r to the

eat ilf. !. . I " ''''' ">« ^nd things to
Mt, life must be sweet indeed.

But what do they eat? I trv a l,„i i

everything , hat gro>!:s on the ba?e sto e^nl

Mor'e"ete°i'd""\ '''"'"•"« '^ -"--1
r. D ? ° '''■"* 'han to feed themselves
tl P^Khes scorn what I set beforrttm
My Ignorance as an insect-breeder will „^;
matte, provided that I succeed ,^ see^g'w th

otjLT:r;t:;'^'rwter"" ''■'«-
asthTc^h:;i&;;r^r'";:;t"''''--

h-sted its contents^ itd'rit'^Zirg

199

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!».: . .i«i' 1. i

The Life of the Caterpillar

amid the rumpled wrapper of the eggs, an
additional family as numerous as the swarm
thdt is already out. The total laying must
therefore amount to five or six dozen. I trans-
fer to another receptacle the precocious band
which is already dressed and keep only the
naked laggards in the tube. They have
bright red heads, with the rest of their bodies
dirty white; and they measure hardly a
twenty-fifth of an inch in length.

My patience is not long put to the test.
Next day, little by little, singly or in groups,
the belated grubs quit the chrysalid bag.
They come out without breaking the frail wal-
let, through the front breach made by the
liberation of the mother. Not one of them
utilizes it as a dress-material, though it has
the delicacy and amber colouring of an onion-
skin; nor do any of them make use of a fine
quilting which lines the inside of tht bag and
forms an exquisitely soft bed for the eggs.
This down, whose origin we shall have to in-
vestigate presently, ought, one would say, to
make an excellent blanket for these chilly
ones. Impatient to cover themselves up. Not
a single one uses it; ther' would not be
enough to go round.

200

J

mvm

'l^^^i:mS'^

J

The Psyches: the Laying

I leTif "n?''^,*" V^^ '°"'' f^KS"'. which
cnrysalis. Time presses. Before makini?
your entrance into the worh; and go ng
agraz.ng you must first be clad. All there
fore w,th equal f.,rv, attack the old sheath

cast clo^h ^ %''' *™'^'^-^-^ - 'he mother'
cast clothes. Some turn their attention to bits

h sof?"'",,'? ''• "P- ,1™*"'"-'= and scrape
the soft, wh.te inner layer; others, greariy
danng, penetrate into the tunnel of a hollow
t^ ^"^5° f '' ""'■'« 'heir cotton gooX

firs c a« i^'.'"* '™" ""= "^'"i'l' "
first-class; and the garment ivoven is of a

dazzlmg wh.te. Others bite deep into he

p.ece vvh,ch they select and make fhemsel es

ParTic Is mfr™'"'' '" ^y:'^ J"t-coloured
particles mar ,e snowy whiteness of the rest

I he tool wh.ch they use for their gleaning

raTwi"; f' '"'"''''''• "'"P^J h'^ "id?

Dlan« fi /' '"u"« ['"^ "P'^"- The two
P anes fit into each other and form an im-
plement capable of seizing and slicing Z
fibre, however small. Seen under the micro^
cope, ,t ,s a wonderful specimen of mechanic-
a precision and power. Were the Sheep
sm. ..liy equipped ,n proportion to her size,

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The Life of the Caterpillar

she wjuld browse upon the bottom of the
trees instead of cropping the ^rass.

A very instructive workshop is that of ihe
Psyche-vermin toilinjr to make themselves a
cotton night-cap. Ihere arc numbers of
things to remark in both the finish of the
work and the ingenuity of the methods em-
ployed. To avoid repeating ourselves, we
will say nothing about these yet, but wait for
a little and return to the subject when setting
forth the talents of a second Psyche, or larger
stature and easier to observe. The two
weavers observe exactly the same procedure.

Nevertheless let us take a glance at the
bottom of the egg-cup, a general workyard in
which I instal my dwarfs as the cases turn
them out. There are some hundreds of them,
with the sheaths from which they came and
an assortment of clipped stalks, chosen from
aniong the driest and richest in pith. What
a whirl! What bewildering animation!

In order to see man, Micromegas cut him-
self a lens out of a diamond of his necklace;
he held his breath lest the storm from his
nostrils should blow the mite away. I in
my turn will be the good giant, newly arri-
ving from Sirlus; I screw a magnifying-glass

i:o2

.jiAr

m^m^r^'^Tf^r.

The Psyches: the Laying

■•fence myc,,; :^ ,";, r";?r "1 "' ";
them, to foci, h;™ i ' """^ O""-" "f

point of a nee le w'k'Tk''™ "•'"■ "•' «"'••
my lips T^ken / ''"'' P"'"'' over

tiny cr terpi hr l;"'7 '""^ •>'« "orl,, the
needle hrivs„n*''*l'" ." ""' ""^ °< ">e

incomplete, "hen, re 'tfc, "''■':'' =^ ^^ '»

h"zrji::'Terr"«'::^'.he:-v;

h\s coat Tgiv Zr^ . T '° "™P'«'
swallowed up^-n the';:!;e?"„V.: ~

it i^:et' ^-r^t'rt^irhia [' '^ '"^'^^^^^^^^

eSiftt'^J^T^^^^^^^

thewherell-^'^tj-S^-n-'ftrr""

i'3 delicat; fabric Wht"'-"''"''"^ '«■■
^;r'-'---rsuchlS«t:

"is at the end of June also that I oUain,

203

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11 "•»».•«»

The Life of the Caterpillar

in his adult shape, the Psyche whose f.cab-
bard is continuctl underneath by a long, naked
vestibule. Most of the cases are fastened by
a silk pad to the trelliswork of the cage ami
hang vertically, like stalactites. S(nne few of
them have never left the ground. Half im-
mersed in the sand, they stand erect, with their
rear in the air and their fore-part buried and
firmly anchored to the side of the pan by
means of a silky priSte.

This inverted position excludes any idea of
weight as a guide in the caterpillar's prepara-
tions. An adept at turning round in his
cabin, he is careful, before he sinks into the
immobility of pupadom, to turn his head nov/
upwards, now downwards, towards the open-
ing, so that the adult insect, which is much
less free than the larva in its movements, may
.each the outside without obstacle.

Moreover, it is the pupa itself, the un-
bending chrysalis, incapable of turning and
obliged to move all in one piece, which, stub-
bornly crawling, carries the male to the
threshold of the case. It emerges half way
at the end of the uncovered silky vestibule
and there breaks, obstructing the opening
with its slough as it does so. For a time the

204

'^7f^^m^'^m::mmti^^

'"iw^

7^'^^^i^i^Wt*^'^'^ 41

The Psyches: the Laying
Moth stands still on the roof of the cottJM

tne gallant takes A.^-ht, in search of her
for whose sake he has ,„a.le ' „self so spruce
He -vears a costun.e of deepest black all'

Hkewfse huT '''".!;''»"■'"'• Mis antenn^T

S ttehe^e "SeJ .tth:""^^, T'"
and Ostrich into the sh .1 ThCr'' "v b""
plumed one visits case aft.r case n h s tor-'

Zef'^iwr^s '■""''■' "™^ "f">o°=

alcoves. , f things go as he wishes, he settles

wMd n„ "''.!''^""'I^J ^"tibule. Comes the

Psvche^' H •""' "' "■=" of ""^ ^""ll"

see or ;, I " \" """"'" "ho does not
see or at most catches a fleeting glimpse of

feath'std" 'm ^ t' V^ ''""-'1 W^abou!
reamers and a black-velvet cloak.

tient. I he lovers are short-lived; thev die

Ihat^forr "'""" [^^" - f"- 'i4', t
so™: t J°"^ '"'""Is. until the hatching of
some late-comer, the female population is

205

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The Life of the Caterpillar

short of suitors. So, when the morning sun,
already hot, strikes the cage, a very singular
spectacle is repeated many times before my
eyes. The entrance to the vestibule swells
imperceptibly, opens and emits a mass of in-
finitely delicate down. A Spider's web,
carded and made into wadding, would give
nothing of such gossamer fineness. It is a
vaporous cloud. Then, from out of this in-
comparable eiderdown, appear the head and
fore-part of a very different sort of caterpil-
lar from the original collector of straws.

It is the mistress of the house, the mar-
riageable Moth, who, feeling her hour abiut
to come and failing to receive the expected
visit, herself makes the advances and goes, as
far as she can, to meet her plumed swain.
He does not come hastening up and for good
reason: there is not a male left in the esta-
blishment. For two or three hours the poor
forsaken one leans, without moving, from her
window. Then, tired of waiting, very gently
she goes indoors again, backwards, and re-
turns to her cell.

Next day, the day after and later still, as
long as her strength permits, she reappears
on her balcony, always in the morning, in the

206

v<!»'^hm^^^MMi4MAMmwm*:m^.SM

Th<

Psyches; the Laying

"teco:;;^;;;;,:";-' -->■, on a ,„f,

«nd turns fo a-u u if i!' ",'"^? '''''''"«»
my hand. Airain m, "'''>' '"" '' »''»•

Douiloir, never u^ I..,. • ^^ "^^ ^° her
sooner or l,t Toer tLr;:'""" " ''"•""•

tim.s, leaning Jfar L h '"""i *°"«-
"Iculating the balance l?T " "Z"''''"- ""■«•
the body, whfch i, ^",.^,"»«" the front of

which r/^ain, she'a'th Jtilrca^"' ,f ^^\

^^u;;r;!eVt°het{;"'"'«-"'^i

Still there Ts one L^."^°" ""'' ''" """g---
dento such as thl ft '^'".^ "''"■" '''■ Acci-

without ouha^w'toT I' "'""'" ''^^^''^•

What a mtrTye creature T ■''" •""■"■

d"l uglier than thf " '^ "• ^ R'""'

Here transfiguration sr^lf:"- V ?'"'''"=^'

progress n,ean^s ret o^ress':^' Whf'T"''

before our eves 1= '',*';"; , V h'^t we have

eyes IS a wnnkled satchel, an

207

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The Life of the Caterpillar

earthy-yellow sausage; and this horror, worse
than a maggot, is a Moth in the full bloom
of life, a genuine adult Moth. She is the
betrothed of the elegant black Bombyx, all
plumed with Marabou-feathers, and repre-
sents to him the last word in beauty. As the
proverb says, beauty lies in lovers' eyes : a
profound truth which the Psyche confirms in
striicing fashion.

Let us describe the ugly little sausage. A
very small head, a paltry globule, disap-
pearing almost entirely in the folds of the first
segment. What need is there of cranium and
brains for a germ-bag ! And so the tiny crea-
ture almost does without them, reduces them
to the simplest expression. Nevertheless,
there are two black ocular specks. Do these
vestigial eyes see their way about? Not very
clearly, we may be sure. The pleasures of
light must be very small for this stay-at-home,
who appears at her window only on rare
occasions, when the male Moth is late in

arriving. .

The legs are well-shaped, but so short and
weak that they are of no use at all for loco-
motion. The whole body is a pale yellow,
semitransparent in front, opaque and stuffed

208

i

The Psyches: the Laying

Wi-th eggs behind. Underneath the first se^

through the skin A „ j / I "°P ''•'""'ing
the ofl(:™„ ^, rh'e'btf ° t' 'i^T, 'I''
remains of a fleece of 3 I- , " "" 'J'"
the insect rubs off al if,.. . 'f "" "'''''^''
forwards in its n!r "^ S". "rl't "^

winr^atT :;:ii:F ?^v«™«-

the inside 'fW^T:-:,"',:!:: "t

wr"efhediet".°"' """""« '°"" '" '"^ -^'^ of

witMhfs"Te«LT o7 1'e'"' Tl "t ^■"■™'
short and hSl%ll^,^\,^^:^ '°™.'oo
wav fhaf oil '."PPorcs, it gets about in a

Sy^si tditrntrT°"''^''r'''

.owedo„tatthe'hSj„T;?:C
deep d.v,d,ng groove which cuts the fns'ect
nto two. It runs to the front part, spreadrnl

h/h'ear V"' f ?"^ -<< 'lowirrS ef
When it' ;. i ""l"'^"™ constitutes a step.

200

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'•>«,,»

}"''*,

The Life of the Caterpillar

To go from one end to the other of a
box two inches long and filled with fine sand,
the living sausage takes nearly an hour. It
is by crawling like this that it moves about
in its case, when it comes to the threshold
to meet its visitor and goes in again.

For three or four days, exposed to the
roughness of the soil, the oviferous bag leads
a wretched life, creeping about at random,
or, more often, standing still. No Moth pays
attention to the poor thing, who possesses no
attractions o'ltside her home; the lovers pass
by with an indifferent air. This coolness is
logical enough. Why should she become a
mother, if her family is to be abandoned to
the inclemencies of the public way? And so,
after falling by accident from her case, which
would have been the cradle of the youngsters,
the wander.'^r withers in a few days and dies

childless.

The fertilized ones— and these are the
more numerous— the prudent ones who have
saved themselves from a fall by being less
lavish with their appearances at the window,
reenter the sheath and do not show them-
selves again once the Moth's visit to the
hreshold is over. Let us wait a fortnight

210

The Psyches ; the Laying
and then open the case lengthwise with

scissors. At the end, in the widest na.., c
site the vestibule, is the slough of the ch
lis, a long, fragile, amber-coloured sack

our

part, oppo-
rysa-
open

o«. <.k« J I vw.wuicu auLK, open

at the end that contains the head, the end

K '"^^1 ,V'^'P^''^Se. In this sack, which

M ' \'^' ^ "^°"^^' l'« the mother, the
egg-bladder, now giving no sign of life

i^rom this amber sheath, which presents all

the usual characteristics of a chrysalis, the

adult Psyche emerged, in the guise of a

hap^'ess Moth, looking like a big maggot;

at. present time, she has slipped back into

her old jacket, mouldmg herself into it in

such a way that it becomes difficult to

separate the container from the contents.

One^ would take the whole thing for a single

It seems very likely that this cast skin,
which occupies the best place in the home
formed the Psyche's refuge when, weary of
waiting on the threshold of her hall, she re-
tired to the back room. She has therefore
gone m and out repeatedly. This constant
going and coming, this continual rubbing
against the sides of a narrow corridor, just
wide enough for her to pass through, ended

211

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H If

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The Life of the Caterpillar

by stripping her of her down. She had a
fleece to start with, a very light and scanty
fleece, it is true, but still a vestige of the cos-
tume which Moths are wont to wear. This
fluff she has lost. What has she done with
it?

The Eider robs herself of her down to
make a luxurious bed for her brood; the new-
born Rabbits lie on a mattress which their
mother cards for them with the softest part
of her fur, shorn from the belly and neck,
wherever the shears of her front teeth can
reach it. This fond tenderness is shared by
the Psyche, as you will see.

In front of the chrysalid bag is an abund-
ant mass of extra-fine wadding, similar to
that of which a fev/ flocks used to fall out-
side on the CvCasions when the recluse went
to her window. Is it silk? Is it spun mus-
lin? No; but it is something of incom-
parable delicacy. The microscope recognizes
it as the scaly dust, the impalpable down in
which every Moth is clad. To give a snug
shelter to the little caterpillars who will soon
be swarming in the case, to provide them with
a refuge in which they can play about and
gather strength before entering the wide

212

The Psyches: the Laying

^JA'SLi'.sr"^""-

_ s agdinsc tne low-roofed wa «?• Knf «-k»
IS nothing to tell us so \7f ' f ^^^'"^

fa: .T "7- ^^^" ' 1

cneretore picture the hairv Xlr^^u . • •

No matter what tne method of ZtL^
tne case in front of the chrvsalid hirr r

leaving the'igg. Herl ^ '.^t; e^^;;*: ^j^"
™g of extreme softness, they call a Int

213

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' '. ^'f >'' '•

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Vi'iU't'

h^»K

The Life of the Caterpillar

ring his time as a spinner and a picker-up of
straws. The whole interior of the case is
padded with thick white satin. But how
greatly preferable to this too-compact and
luxurious upholstery is the delightful eider-
down bedding of the new-born youngsters!
We know the preparations made for the
coming family. Now, where are the eggs?
At what spot are they laid? The smallest
of my three Psyches, who is less misshapen
than the others and freer in her movements,
leaves her case altogether. She possesses a
long ovipositor and inserts it, through the
exit-hole, right into the chrysalid slough,
which is left where it was in the form of a
bag This slough receives the laying. When
the operation is finished and the bag of eggs
is full, the mother dies outside, 1 anging on to

the case.

The two other Psyches, who do not carry
telescopic ovipositors and whose only method
of changing their position is a dubious sort
of crawling, have more singular customs to
show us. One might quote with regard to
them what used to be said of the Roman
matrons, those model mothers:

"Domi mattsit, lanam fecit."

214

The Psyches: the Laying

reaTlvVorT/''''- , '^^^ P^^^^e does not

least s^h 'r^ °" '^' '^'^^^<^' but at

least she bequeathes to her sons her own

fleece converted into a heap of wadding. yIs
dornr mansu. She never leaves her"" house
not even for her ucdding, not even for the
purpose of laying her eggs

We have seen how, after receiving the visit

couth ,""' '^' '^'^'^''' Moth^hat un-
couth sausage, retreats to the back of her

Xh"she7^'""^'"^" ^^^ ^'^^y-^'^ «i-g

never left it Th''"^' ^"'^ '^ ^^""^^'^ ^^^ had
TJa\u J^^ ^^8s are in their place then

avour^eTL''.r ""^^ ^'^ ^^^"^ '^'- - ^
favoured by the various Psyches. Of what

use would a laying be now?' StrictlV sp'ak-

eL/'" " r"'' "■• ^^'^' ^h^t •■« to say, the
eggs do not leave the mother's womb. ' The

kJeos^h^'^•]:''^^ ,¥^ ^"^-^^-^ them
Keeps them withm itself.

rattT' >^!? -^"^ ^°'" '■'' "^^'^^"^^ by evapo-
ration; ,t dries up and at the same time re-
mams sticking to the chrysalid wrapper, that
firm support. Let us open th< ching^ Wha
does the m.gnlfying.glass show us? A few
trachean threads, lean bundles of muse ^7
nervous ramifications, in short, the relics of

215

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The Life of the Caterpillar

a form of vitality reduced to its simplest ex-
pression. Taken all around, very nearly no-
thing. The rest of the contents is a mass of
eggs, an agglomeration of germs numberng
close upon three hundred. In a word, the
insect is one enormous ovary, assisted by just
so much as enables it to perform its functions.

i

""<*

3l6

m

CHAPTER X

THE psyches: the cases

first (horac c sclmen? '" "T' P"' <>' "-e
next two s™3, K "^\8'<'«y black, the

">e body a ^pT Lk '"'c'l. ""'' ">= ■■«' "l

c-tu J, ;i;f r rout itn";,!':^'^ ""i-

steps, they swarm all over rf,e J„ ' r"^
-u^e^resultin, from th^LtrZC;;?

banquet for which 1 "'"il"^ " '°"'''''™^
ceptresponsibufty'' see ™th ""''^ T " «■
and I do not Zln . a °''""^ °' "■= 'ort;
"ose. ThelTh" K '■"I"'' ''°«' "^e idea
case, whose s"ral;, ''""'?' '° •>" »"» her
the mater al of .r «/'"''■"'' ^^ """^^ng.
salid slough a d herlr»'^ ""' °/ ''"u^''^'-
two.fold shelter forM\ I""''" "'='" '
" for the hatching-time; with

217

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The Life of the Caterpillar

her down she prepares a defensive barricade
for them and a place wherein to wait before
emerging. Thus all is given, all spent with
a view to the future. Save for some thin, dry
strips which my lens can only with difficulty
distinguish, there is nothing left that could
provide a cannibal feasi for so numerous a

family.

No, my little Psyches, you do not eat your
mother. In vain do I watch you: never,
either to clothe or to feed himself, does any
one of you lay a tooth upon the remains of
the deceased. The maternal skin is left un-
touched, as are those other insignificant relics,
the layer of muscular tissue and the network
of air-ducts. The sack left behind by the
chrysalis also remains intact.

The time comes to quit the natal wallet.
An outlet has been contrived long beforehand,
saving the youngsters from committing any
act of violence against what was once their
mother. There is no sacrilegious cutting to
be done with the shears; the door opens of
itself.

When she was a wriggling speck of sau-
sage, the mother's front segments were re-
markably translucent, forming a contrast with

218

The Psyches: the Cases
the r„, of the body. This „,s very prob.

t^LlT i \'"' '''"" '"<' '«» tough
ead „" ">:;" ^'^-'•"c. The sign i, „„, J,.

cuiu. f,j of'^-.ro^^r Jd, rt I ;Xd

oh hy the p,gn,ie, ™p«ien, ,„ g^, "^wav'

n,rird'::o;'':ff.""™^ °" " ■' -»"«'- "^

In anticipation therefore of the emergence
an exceedmgly easy and perhaps even snon

lea« th, "''"'/' "'' Pi-oP" 'i™' =nd thus
Z ( A "'^ '"' '° "'^ youngsters is an

m t^naraT"'" ^^"^ ""^ -"« ""conscious
maternal affection stands sublimely revealed
That miserable maggot, that sausage Moth

wheTe ^h %'V"*' '"^ '" - clefr-sfghted
Where the future is concerned, staggerl the

mind of any one who knows how to E.

through thT-T"^' '■•°'" '''' "«"' w'll"
through the window just opened by the fall of

219

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4 .J9 ')

i,

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IJ'IH''

'■-L»»'-

m

The Life of the Caterpillar

the head. The chrysalid sack, the second
wrapper, presents no obstacle; it has remained
open since the adult Psyche left it. Next
comes the mass of eiderdown, the heap of
fluff of which the mother stripped herself.
Here the little caterpillars stop. Much more
spaciously and comfortably lodged than in the
bag whence they have come, some take a rest,
others bustle about, exercise themselves in
walking. All pick up strength in preparation
for their exodus into the daylight.

They do not stay long amid this luxury.
Gradually, as they gain vigour, they come
out and spread over the surface of the case.
Work begins at once, a very urgent work,
that of the wardrobe. The first mouthfuls
will come afterwards, when we are dressed.

Montaigne, when putting on the cloak
which his father had worn before him, used
a touching expression. He said :

"I dress myself in my father."

The young Psyches in the same way dress
themselves in their mother: they cover them-
selves with the clothes left behind by the de-
ceased, they scrape from it the wherewithal
to make themselves a cotton frock. The ma-
terial employed is the pith of the little stalks,

220

"I "'•'■'»"

The Psyche.: the Cases

especially of *hc pieces which, split length-
wise, are mere easily stripped of their con-
tents. I he Krub (irst finds a spot to suit it.
Having done so, it gleans, it planes with its
mandibles Thus a superbly white wadding
IS extracteil from old logs.

The manner of beginning the garment is
worth noting. The tiny creature employs as
judicious a method as any which our own in-
dustry cou d hope to discover. The wadding
IS collected in infinitesimal pellets. How are
these little particles to be fixed as and when
A^uJ T i^^^ached by the shears of the man-
dibles / The manufacturer needs a support,
a base; and this support cannot be obtained
on the caterpillar's own body, for any adher-
ence would be seriously embarrassing and
would hamper freedom of movement. T^e
difficulty IS overcome very cleverly. Scraps
of plush are gathered and by degrees fastened
to one another with threads of silk This
forms a sort of rectilinear garland in which
the particles collected swing from a common
rope. When these preparations are deemed
sufficient, the little creature passes the garland
round Its waist, at about the third segment of
the thorax, so as to leave its six legs free,-

221

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The Life of the Caterpillar

then it ties the two ends with a bit of silk.
The result is a girdle, generally incomplete,
but soon completed with other scraps fast-
ened to the silk ribbon that carries every-
thing.

This girdle is the base of the work, the
support. Henceforth, to lengthen the piece,
to enlarge it into the perfect garment, the
grub has only to fix, always at the fore-
edge, with the aid of its spinnerets, now at
the top, now at the bottom or side, the scraps
of pith which the mandibles never cease ex-
tracting. Nothing could be better thought
out than this initial garland laid out flat and
then buckled like a belt around the loins.

Once this base is laid, the weaving-loom
is in full swing. The piece woven is first a
tiny string around the waist ; next, by the ad-
dition of fresh pellets, always at the fore-
edge, it grows into a scarf, a waistcoat, a
short jacket and lastly a sack, which gradu-
ally makes its way backwards, not of itself,
but through the action of the weaver, who
slips forward in the part of the case already
made. In a few hours, the garment is com-
pleted. It is by that time a conical hood, a
cloak of magnificent whiteness and finish.

222

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• . ■ 1 i » j

The Psyches; the Cases

We now know all about it. On leaving
the materna hut, without searching" . h"ut

ous at that aj .. -h. h,,ie Tsyche finds in the

oth"h,"Tl' '!"' '"^'^ '^^ wherewithal to
clothe himself, n, ,, .p^red the perils of
roam.ng .n a state of nudity. When he leave

he Zhl ' T" '^', ^"'^^ ^^•^^-- shanks to
the mother, who takes care to instal her

family ,n the old case and gives it choice ma'
tenals to work with.

If the grub-worm were to drop out of the
hovel, ,f some gust of wind swept him to a
d.s ance, most often the poor mife wodd be

retted to a turn, are not to be found everv-
where It would mean the impossibility of
any clothmg and, in that dire pove ty an
early death. But, if suitable materia b are
encountered, equal in quality to ho be

lolLTht'^"^'^""^'^^^"^^ Let us

I segregate a few new-born grubs in a glass

tube and give them for their materials some

old stalks of a sort of dandelion, PteJheTa

223

.%

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1

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r

• rS L

*

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p.

w

It

rS^v'^

lit*^''

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II

II

The Life of tHe Caterpillar

nemansensis. Though robbed of the inherit-
ance of the maternal manor, the grubs seem
very well satisfied with my bits. Without the
least hesitation, they scrape out of them a
superb white pith and make it into a del.cious
cloak, much handsomer than that which they
would have obtained with the ruins of the
native house, this latter cloak being always
more or less flawed with darker materials,
whose colour has been impaired by long ex-
posure to the air. On the other hand, the
Nimes dandelion, a relic of last spring, has its
central part, which I myself lay bare, a spot-
less white; and the cotton nightcap achieves
the very perfection of whiteness.

I obtain an even better result with rounds
of sorghum-pith taken from the kitchen-
broom. Tlus time, the work has glittering
crystalline points and looks like a thing built
of grains of sugar. It is my manufacturers'
masterpiece.

These two successes authorize me to vary
the raw material still further. In the absence
of new-born caterpillars, who are not always
at my disposal, I employ grubs which I have
undressed, that is to say, which I have taken
out of their caps. To these divested ones I

224

= l.-.-j!:

u\i ill A .^ii

^'^ K:^:-r'^h rMK ^^

'C,^»

The Psyches: the Cases

P»Per free frlp"^'; ™i''' "''''"•=' "^p of
Pi«es. ,n short " oil' ?M "'" '° P'"^ ">

Here agai"'the e ° '''""'"8-PVer.
grubs lustily scranefh "°, ''"'""■^"- The
'hough it be anS mak^'lh ^'' ,"™ ■'""
'"'t of it. Cadet Rousser nf r ' ^^P"
mory, had a coat nf 1' -f ' ^ '^"""'"^ m^-
less fine and sTv m""'"" ''""' >"" ™^h
"e so wellple sed w^h'tf """"^'^ ^''"S"
rf>ey scorn their nativLe ':„"''" •''' ">"'
-vards placed at the7r d t^al a"n '/ '' "^'"-

are able to get at tL?„ t"I '" '^'^ '"he, but
dwelling-hofse Th,^ i^ " ''f " "'^ 8'^^^
draped ones hasten t„, '"""^''u ^''' ""■
break it i„,o ato" ,„d ,1?'^^ '^' "^''- '"
themselves a I'^./f f '''"'= '° '"^l'*

elegant as the. . . et raceld "', ''"'""''^
use of this material Th , ''*'>'' '"'de

employed perhTos fn.Th 2°"'"' "' ""e stuff,

"O ch/ngerrcut^heTor" "" ""''

lotor', Note. " ^ contemporary bailad Jr?l„']!

225

■:»■

f:

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#'vib

t

The Life of the Caterpillar

To sum up, they accept any vegetable mat-
ter that is dry, 'ght and not too resistant.
Would they behave likewise towards animal
materials ar.d especially mineral materials, on
condition that these are of a suitable thinness?
I take a Great Peacock's wing, left over from
my experiments in the nuptial telegraphy of
this Moth,^ and cut from it a strip on which
I place, at the bottom of a tube, two little
caterpillars stripped of their clothing. The
two prisoners have nothing else at their dis-
posal. Any drapery that they want must be
got out of this scaly expanse.

They hesitate for a long time i.i the pre-
sence of that strange carpet. In twenty-four
hours' time, one of the caterpillars has started
no work and seems resolved to let himself die,
naked as he is. The other, stouter-hearted,
or perhaps less injured by the brutal stnpping-
process, explores the slip for a little while and
at last resolves to make use of it. Before the
day is over, he has clothed himself In grey
velvet out of the Great Peacock's scales. Con-
sidering the delicacy of the materials, the
work Is exquisitely correct.

'Cf. Chapter XI. of the present volume. — Translator's
Note.

226

The Psyches: the Cases

iected from a p an ' ift^r'''^^^ -^-
from the wing of a M„Th ' "^"n" ^^'^"^d
rnugh stone. In their fi J ^' ^'" ^"^^^^'t^te
Psyches' cases are o ten ^.f'^' 1^"°"' ^^^
^^nd and earthy par dcs h ? T'^ ^'"^'"^ °^
dental bricks, vS hav; h 'v"' ^'' ^'''^'
:°-^ed by the s^tntet a'L" '"'^^-^^-tly
unintentionally in the th.^ T JJ}''''P^'^ted
creatures knovv too vvel M , ^ '^^ ^^^'^^te
pebbly pilJow to seek I ^^^^vbacks of a

Mineral matter is d si ^fT^'P'^''^ ^^ «^°ne.
'« mineral matter th'f"u '° '^^"^' «nd it
i'-ke wool. '^'' "°^^ ^^« to be worked

powers of my grubs r"^ ""'^ '^^ ^^^ble
o<^ flaky hematite At 1^"'""' " ^P^^'"^'^"
hair-pencil it break.- 7 """'"^ ^^^^^ of a
.'--ute as the dust ^hT 'T' ''^^'^ -
^^^ves on our fingers On ' K^^^'j^^^'^ ^'""^
^-'^'-vhich glittfrs iike a sted Ir ' ^'1^ "^^
bJ'sh four young caterniM ^^'"S' ^ ^^ta-

fheir clothing \ 7„':^"""''^ extracted from

Periment and ■consequentl?' '^''^ '" ^^'^ ^-
ber of my subjects ^'^^ '"^'"^^^ '^' "um-

227

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1 1 'i

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^1.1:

The Life of the Caterpillar

It is as I thought. The day passes and the
four caterpillars remain bare. Next day,
however, one, one alone, decides to clothe
himself. His work is a tiara with metallic
facets, in which the light plays with flashes of
every colour of the rainbow. It is very rich,
very sumptuous, but mightily heavy and cum-
brous. Walking becomes laborious under
that load of metal. Even so must a Byzan-
tine emperor have progressed at ceremonies
of state, after donning his gold-worked dal-
matic.

Poor little creature! More sensible than
man, you did not select that ridiculous mag-
nificence of your own free will ; it was I who
forced it on you. Here, to make amends, is a
disk of sorghum-pith. Fling off your proud
ti?ra, thrust it from you quickly and place in
its stead a cotton night-cap, which is much
healthier. This is done on the second day.

The Psyche has his favourite materials
when starting as a manufacturer : a vegetable
lint collected from any ligneous scrap well
softened by the air, a lint usually supplied by
the old roof of the maternal hut. In the
absence of the regulation fabric, he is able to
make use of animal velvet, in particular of the

228

■^IH

The Psyches: the Cases
scaly fluff of a Moth In oo„ r

I Jil!!' "'"^ °"'»'-t*s that of nourishment
uccausc 01- jts white fleece. I t-ilce hlrr, r

&o^tt-:i''''-'^'''-'''™-i^s!

nil ot eating, ,„ spite of his long fast first
abourmg to make himself a new feat hv rJ
f«'"?,fl',= hairs of the hawkweed. His app "
hte will be satisfied afterwards. ^'^

in tt mitVf-thr&'ff!:': ^^^ --

.Slti;t"ofl^;^„'',;Vh^^^^^^^^^^

to and am working m my shirt-sleeves- and

bovl'aTth'"'"' ""-■ ^'''^' clamour fort
above all thmgs, a warm covering. Well It
tie shiverer, I will satisfy you I

229

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1

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1

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^H: ,

The Life of the Caterpillar

I expose him to the direct rays of the sun,
on the window-ledge. This time, it is too
much of a good thing; I have gone beyond
all bounds. The sun-scorched one wriggles
about, flourishes his abdomen, always a sign
of discomfort. But the making of the hawk-
weed cassock is not suspended on this account;
on the contrary, it is pursued more hurriedly
than ever. Could this be because of the ex-
cessive light? Is not the cotton-wool bag a
retreat wherein the caterpillar isolates him-
self, sheltering from the importunities of
broad daylight, and gently digests and sleeps?
Let us get rid of the light, while retaining a
warm temperature.

After a preliminary stripping, the little
caterpillars are now lodged in a cardboard
box, which I place in the sunniest corner of
my window. The temperature here is well
over ioo° F. No matter: the swan's-down
sack is remade at a sitting of a few hours.
Tropical heat and the quiet that goes with
darkness have made no difference in the in-
sect's habits.

Neither the degree of heat nor the degree
of light explains the pressing need of rai-
ment. Where are we to seek the reason for

230

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J ,.

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.k:.M*^

'££2!%^^.

fi*- f*>

The Psyches : the Cases

that hurry to net rl-iH? t

a presentiment' of tt ,u'„T ^Th™",? "."
caterpilln. has the wi'nte ' ,1 J ^L ^^

leaves, of nd 4 ^ , a-r"*} ^'"^'■""'^'>'"8
old cracked h.rt f u " ' "^ '^"'^'"^ under
in shor of ,h' ',"/ '''"■>' '■"°f'> »f ^-ocoons,

against the se;*;;";", he'^Xr^'T,-'-
to spend the winter exposed to , hi ■ ', "
c es of the air Tl,- -1 *"' mclemen-

lar talent ' ^"'' ''""'' ^'" P^t'Cu-

4«ance, when the case t fixed an h'' "' '

rage: the Psvrh. ;.T ■ "^ "°'^^ '™<i
^g 1-syche ,s sleeping peacefully in his

seat ""p'ptr' '"jr -rr ; v^= --^
which takTs time :oc,l;o:t.''tfL"i:;^

^u

it.

-,.^,l^AF^t^^^

'C

■■a-

The Life of the Caterpillar

long the caterpillar labours at it, improving
it, adding to it, strengthening it incessantly.
And, in order to acquire greater skill, he be-
gins his apprenticeship at the moment when
he leaves the egg. As preliminary practice
for the thick overcoat of full-grown age, he
tries his hand on cotton capes. Even so does
the Pine Processionary, as soon as hatched,
weave first delicate tents, then gauzy cupolas,
as harbingers of the mighty wallet in which
the community will make its home. Both
alike are harassed from the day of their
birth by the presentiment of the future;
aoy start life by binding themselves appren-
tices to the trade that is to safeguara them
one day.

No, the Psyche is not more sensitive to
cold than any other smooth-skinned cater-
pillar; he is a creature of foresight. De-
prived in winter of the shelters granted to
the others, he prepares himself, from his
birth, for ihe building of a home that will
be his salvation and practises for it by ma-
king fripperies of wadding suited to his
strength. He foresees the rigours of winter
during the blazing dog-days.

They are now all clad, my young caterpil-
232

^ . .-»'•

'The Psyches; the Cases

lars numbennK nearly a thousand Tk
wander restlessly m h ' ^"^usand. They
closed vv;^^ . 1 1 ^^ ^'''''''^ receptacles

s«r i ol. fr • "' ''''•••^'- What So "J

white cioLrr; :«:? T^od'^"'/' '"""•

After all edit /„: ''' °' ™""«-

ment. Despia- vi f '' r'" """^ ^''^"h.
be too heavy lb '"''"'• >'°" "iH not

- -na^„le^l::'^•:;,;■;,7„rrar^• ^""

ask for? You certainlv l ^^^ "^^ y^"

for your suppi es ' /n fh" ""' '°""' "" "^^
would have found v . f "^''" ^^'^^ V""
much more eJiIv?h T^'l ^" V^^r liking
for yoT S nee mv • k'" ^"^'^ ^" «"'» ^^em

yo/pIaces'rin"^yTf^J;tr'^"'^^^
which I must observe- tht;/f '7 ' ^"'^
What do you want? ^ ^''^'"^ y""-

one'J:Xy'S'^hT'^"'"^^^'-^^'«-'^

thinking^oTthe'trrrrin^^'^"'^^"^^'
tions so that thp hnm! L .^ "'^ Precau-

iess supp ed Derfnr T.'^ ^' "'^'^y^ ^^'^ or

233

li-i

i W

f /• I

•' f

The Life of the Caterpillar

will come. Ah, how well lonjj practice has
taught iiie to know the trade, with all Its wor-
ries and all its joys!

Behold me to-day the Providence of a thou-
sand nurselings thrust upon mc by my studies.
I try a little of everything. The tender leaves
of the elm appear to suit. If I serve them up
one day, I find them next morning nibbled on
the surface, in small patches. Tiny grains of
impalpable black dust, scattered here and
there, tell me that the intestines have been
at work. This gives me a moment of satis-
faction which will be readily understood by
any breeder of a herd whose diet is unknown.
The hope of success gains strength: I know
how to feed my vermin. Have I discovered
the best method at the first attempt? I dare
not think so.

I continue therefore to vary the fare, but
the results hardly come up to my wishes. The
flock refuses my assorteii green stuff and even
ends by taking a dislike to the elm-leaves. I
am beginning to believe that I have failed ut-
terly, when a happy inspiration occurs to me.
I have recognized among the bits that go to
form the case a few fragments of the mouse-
ear hawkweed (Hierac'mm pilosella). So the

234

The Psyches: the Cases

JmZr'''" ''''''''^'>' '" ''■"!'■• ™"n.l flow.

We will leave them fr. fk„-

his digestive refuse? R *u f '•''' »'
enclosed in a sack n™''™ *" ''

the thought orofd„re°Tec eTanTa^r^'r'"

™-ing. Howisthesord-re^^ctattTr

poinrf'^;tt;etrat:r°ri

c-inuity,,hesackis„:tXt"a:thrhi„d-

{•

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The Life of the Caterpillar

er end. Its method of manufacture, by
means of a waistband whose fore-edge in-
creases in dimensions in proportion as the
rear-edge is pushed farther back, proves this
sufficiently. The hinder end becomes pointed
simply owing to the shrinking of the material,
which contracts of itself at the part where the
caterpillar's decreasing diameter no longer
distends it. There is thus at the point a per-
manent hole whose lips remain closed. The
caterpillar has only to go a little way back
and the stuff expands, the hole widens, the
road is open and the excretions fall to the
ground. On the other hand, so soon as the
caterpillar takes a step forward into his case,
the rubbish-shoot closes of itself. It is a very
simple and very ingenious mechanism, as good
as anything contrived by our seamstresses to
cope with the shortcomings of a boy's first
pair of breeches.

Meanwhile the grub grows and its tunic
continues to fit it, is neither too large nor too
small, but just the right size. How is this
done? If the text-books were to be credited,
I might expect to see the caterpillar split his
sheath lengthwise when it became too tight
and afterwards enlarge it by means of a piece

236

The Psyches: the Cases

woven between the edges of the rent Thn^
is what our tailors dof but it is not the ^sv
cnes method at ill Tu^ « y*

much better They keel ™ ^ '""'"'j'^^
coat, whieh is oW at ,hrb.r^"^ •".""'■■■

and al,vays a perfcrt fit for ,h ' "'"• '" /™"'
1V««.»,- • ^ . ^^'^ "'^ ^or the growing bodv
Nothing ,s easier than to watch the dailv
progress in size. A few caterr^II.rc u • ^
made themselves a h^d oT i", 'T
The work is perfectly tuti^ul ; r^^hTh'lve
been woven out of snow-flakes. I isolale
these smartly-dressed ones and give them a^
weav,ng.materials some brown Lies ch'sen

bark. Between morning and evening the

the conr""n "^" Wearance: thetip o
rnn^ 1"' '"" ' '^^'^"^ ^^'^e, but all the

colouring from the original plush. Next dav

s reXtrfrf '" ^^f ^^-PPeaS an'd

oth^r^ta'WoTbat^^^'^^^"^^

I then take away the brown materials and
put sorghum-pith in their stead. Th t me

td:Te\'''Vf r"-"^^ gradually^!

white snff ^ ''^- '^'.^°°^^' ^^'^'"'^ fhe soft,
white stuff gams m width, starting from the

237

tn

ft i

!

■^i;

*

The Life of the Caterpillar

mouth. Before the day is over, the original
elegant mitre will be reconstructed entirely.

This alternation can be repeated as often
as we please. Indeed, by shortening each
period of work, we can easily obtain, with the
two sorts of material, composite products,
showing alternate light and dark belts.

The Psyche, as you see, in no way follows
the methods of our tailors, with their piece
i taken out and another piece let in. In order
to have a coat always to his size, he never
ceases working at it. The particles collected
are constantly being fixed just at the edge of
the sack, so that the new drapery increases
progressively in dimensions, keeping pace
with the caterpillar's growth. At the same
time the old stuff recedes, is driven back to-
wards the tip of the cone. Here, through its
own springiness, it contracts and closes the
muff. Any surplus matter disintegrates, falls
into shreds and gradually disappears as the
insect roams about and knocks against the
things which it meets. The case, new at the
front and old at the back, is never too tight
because it is always being renewed.

After the very hot period of the year, there
comes a moment when light wraps are no

238

■ .iwr ...--.

'"I*--

STf

^^■L

Tht Psyches; the Cases

pets. It b:x,"eh r;:^a°;:rrr' ''"-

bend freeIy^-„r;.;Xecr''^ "'""■"" '"

building, they are destined Z^A^"'" "' ""
will be pushed back and hf T- ''''"PP"'' ^"'^

bett/rSo™;,!" ''/arcr f",^ Y'" '^"^
tudinally The nl!I- '"^f^'Iy ''id longi-

-th sujprislg%tk„"fss" and h"" '' ''°"'=
the log which he has LnH "I"'*'- "
.cateT,ill^,r takes i: between "ws S anTl ""^
It round and roimH n ■ ■ ^? "^ '"f"*
mandibles by one "nd ? ''^'7 I' "'"> bis
a few morsels fron, Thi's l\» ™i'-''= '^"""^

fi^es the™ to the";:ck^7;:"sa;k":"Hlrot

ii'-^

m

U h

The Life of the Caterpillar

ject in laying bare the raw and rough sur-
faces, to which the silk will stick better, may
be to obtain a firmer hold. Even so the
plumber gives a touch of the file at the point
that is to be soldered.

Then, by sheer strength of jaw, the cater-
pillar lifts his beam, brandishes it in the air
and, with a quick movement of his rump, lays
it on his back. The spinneret at once sets to
work on the end caught. And the thing is
done: without any groping about or correct-
ing, the log is added to the others, in the di-
rection required.

The fine days of autumn are spent in toil of
this kind, performed leisurely and intermit-
tently, when the stomach is full. By the time
that the cold weather arrives, the house is
ready. When the air is once more warm, the
Psyche resumes his walks abroad: he roams
along the paths, strolls over the friendly
greensward, takes a few mouthfuls and then,
when the hour has come, prepares for his
transformation by hanging from the wall.

These springtime wanderings, long after
the case is completely finished, made me want
to know if the caterpillar would be capable of
repeating his sack-weaving and roof-building

240

The Psyches: the Cases

XrCsJ,,t\,^™ "« "f hi, case and
sand. I sive Mm ' °" ? ''"'' °f "ne, dry

»?'nning, taking as prsfo"l''"''T<"S' ««»

that its lips encounter^ he bd ^7 T'^''"^
foot, the canonv nf . • " "' '""^ under-

'■"«, .-t bind ""o^^thert^f .r^M^''- ^^ "O"
all the pieces touched bvthr'' '°"''"'">"'
and short, light and heavy at'^^r' '™8
he centre of this tangledscaffllH "''°"'- '"
" pursued of a auitf rllff "»' ' ™*

'hatofhut-building Th! ?' "?,'"' ^™'"
and does nothing efse It "'"P'"ar weaves

assemble into ayop;r iT T"'P'''"« '»
ol which he is able fn / ^ """ materials

Tk. D ■ ^ t° dispose.

The Psyche owning ■ n^rfert .
he resumes his activity w.mTc ""' "''="
scorns his old trade /. '"■"' '^'"her,

a. trade practtd s„ ," lolrr"" "^ '°^''

^'"--in,:tifl;tt::^^tL%X'

241

if

. t

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'■*ll

■'lllt'l

The Life of the Caterpillar

of his case. The silky felt of the interior is
never thick or soft enough to please him. The
thicker and softer it is, the better for his own
comfort during the process of transformation
and for the safety of his family afterwards.

Well, my knavish tricks have now robbed
him of everything. Does he perceive the dis-
aster? Though the silk and timber at his
disposal permit, does he dream of rebuilding
the shelter, so essential first to his chilly back
and secondly to his family, who will cut it up
to make their first home? Not a bit of it.
He slips under the mass of twigs where I let
it fall and there begins to work exactly as
he would have done under normal conditions.

This shapeless roof and this sand on which
the jumble of rafters are lying now represent
to the Psyche the walls of the regulation
home; and, without in any way modifying his
labours to meet the exigencies of the moment,
the caterpillar upholsters the surfaces within
his reach with the same zest that he would
have displayed in adding new layers to the
quilted lining which has disappeared. Instead
of being pasted on the proper wall, the pre-
sent hangings come in contact with the rough
surface of the sand and the hopeless tangle

242

.'7«:-=-T-^ --^jjw^far.-!*^-

The Psyches: the Cases

notice.' """'•' '"^ ""' 'P'""" '^k,, no
The house is worse than ruined- if „„
onger exists. No matter : the c™erpnia con
mues h,s act,;al work; he loses si?h of the'
real and upholsters the imaKinarv ' A^d 1.!
everyth „g ought to apprise hte 'of ^he It
sence of any roofing. The sack with whfch
h» f '"T^"' '" '"''" '"•■nself, very skU.

the In ect"s ho7 \f' '^'^ "•°^^™=« °f
me insects body. Moverover, it is made

heavy with sand and bristles «^ith spikT, In
evey direction, which catch in the dust of the
lZt"i ?''': "" P™S"^^ impossible Thu

I takes f™ h ""' '° '•'''' '"■=' position-
It takes h,m hours to make a start and to

move h,s cumbrous dwelling a fraction of a^

With his normal case, in which all the
beams are .mbricated from front to back w th
«.ent,fic precision, he gets alo .^ry ntwy

".."■.»? °t,Uc',yT,b! """ """f ?"' "">' !"""•»
«»".' R,M.n,"j:; Tn.MP:'L?J" -'if. '-iMed,

III'

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The Life of the Caterpillar

His collection of logs, all fixed in front and
all free at the back, forms a boat-shaped
sledge which slips and glides through ob-
stacles without difficulty. But, though pro-
gress be easy, retreat is impracticable, for each
piece of the framework causes the thing to
stop, owing to its free end.

Well, the sack of my victim is covered with
laths pointing this wa and that, just in the
position in which they happened to be caught
by the spinneret, as it fastened its threads
here and there, indiscriminately. The bits in
front are so many spurs which dig into the
sand and neutralize all efforts to advance; the
bits at the side are rakes whose resistance can-
not be overcome. In such conditions, the in-
sect is bound to be stranded and to perish on
the spot.

If I were advising the caterpillar, I should
say:

"Go back to the art in which you excel ; ar-
range your bundle neatly ; point the cumbrous
pieces lengthwise, in an orderly fashion; do
something to your sack, which hangs too
loosely; give it the necessary stiffness with a
few props to act as a busk; do now, in your
distress, what you knew so well how to do be-

244

'W^p^m..^^'^

The Psyches: the Cases
^ore; summon up your n?r1 ..
ents and you will VsaTed •' "''P*^"^^^'"«-taI-

Useless advice f TK- *•' r
over. The hour harcomr? "' 'JT"'^ ''
and he upholster, obSv tdT °'"r« =
which no longer exi,t,Hcwmt"A' ''?''"
ably, cut up bv the Anf. [ P""'' ""«>•-
too-rigid instinct '• " "" '•""l' of hi,

as much' t-k'cTn-"' ''''" "'"''y 'o>d u,
ci™b,,ope^t7wS;or„o?^tt".""'

menced. The ftlhe h"? """"' ""^ «"">■
penter. will die fS- w ' ^ ofT ' ■'^''" '"■
& a beam. ' "' knowing how to

'(■

•>-'M*

1=1 ■ '■

r'

.. '

245

CHAPTER XI

THE GREAT PEACOCK

1^

if /

-«

Ir WAS a memorable evening. I shall call
it the Great Peacock evening. Who does
not know the maj^nificent Moth, the largest
In Europe, clad in maroon velvet with a
necktie of white fur? The wings, with their
sprinkling of grey and brown, crossed by a
faint zig-zag and edged with smoky white,
have in the centre a round patch, a great eye
with a black pupil and a variegated iris con-
taining successive black, white, chestnut and
purple arcs.

No less remarkable is the caterpillar, in
colour an \ ^decided yellow. On the top of
thinly-scattered tubercles, cro' led with a
palisade of black hairs, are se /eads of tur-
quoise blue. His stout brown v >coon, so curi-
ous with its exit-shaft shaped like an eel-trap,
is usually fastened to the bark at the base of
old almond-trees. The caterpillar feeds on
the leaves of the same tree.

Well, on the morning of the 6th of May,
a female emerges from her cocoon in my

246

(\

The Great Peacock

plans. I incarcerate h' I '' "° P""cular
habit of the oSver ,^ ""' ''='"''• "«=

for what mayl:;;;:; "'""^^ °" '"= '"'"'-•'t

bed. there i?'e';'',t,.''?"«'"''d '» Boing to
"ine. Little pfu7 L f . *" ™°'" «xt to
"bout, jumle M'j''! '^■""'^'■"'ed, '' '•"'hing

me; """g- ^ near him call

Come ruirlf f" u^

»« these ,V^o t' bi» asTr;- ^^°'"' ^"^
full of them !•• ^ '""'' ' The room is

1 nurrv in TUa
child's enthu;iastic anrf'lf"°"f ,'" ^""'f^ 'he
tions, an inva io" as vl '^''"'"''j"' ""^'"'"a-
house. a .raid of^irntXh^'r' '" °"
already caught and odgei t a h "^ "'
Others, more numerous. fre\:tt:,„^;t"«=-

' °" ''°" ""•"«». 'aJdie," I .,y ,„

r ?r

I

H-

The Life of the Caterpillar

son. 'i.cavc your cage and come with me.
VI t 'ih,' ! see something interesting."

\Vc r.n downstairs to go to my study,
'.vnUh o .upies the right wing of the house.
I ' the f -chen I find the servant, who is also
beviifitnd by .vhat is happening and stands
fii<v.inp; i.,1 '•■ ■'•f at great Moths whom she
to. K :;■■ hi«.t /f Bats.

fac • *■ . acock, it would seem, has
taV n pc t 1 of pretty well every part of
th- house. What will it be around my prisoner,
the cause of this incursion? Luckily, one of
the two windows of the study had been left
open. The approach is not blocked.

We enter the room, candle in hand. 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, cling-
ing 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 of them are there? About a
score. Add to these the number that have

248

^•Jt^'^^i

':^S

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Ai7

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The Great Peacock

not fall f„ shoTon^/y'ZTjT'!'' ""'

eager to pay -heir r cLe " ,„ f/""'' '?""
able bride born th,f ''" "larr age-

'"ies of my°™dy "*""'"« ""'"l "« -"ys-

of''w;o!!'4rT;b':rvt"f '""-""

"nJle is a dangerTo ;i„ """" °' "«

»'ngs We will resuT?. -h u ""«' "«''
morrow with an ev"' ?'"^"'«'<"> to.

"•ought out beforehr„r'"'" '"'"™8»'-y

But first let us clpnr ^i,
0/ what happen" ever" ^flf™""'' »"d «Peak
'hat my observation la" f' r'?« "" ^«k
P'tch dark, between TJh, j'*" """" " '^
"hen the Moth? rtvfoL^b '" °'t^'''
stormy weather, the skv U '' ""'• '' '»
cast and the darkness kl ''V ""'''' °'".
in the open air i„ ,1 Pr°f»""d that even
'hadow of th 't e« t^"?'"^/'^ f™" the
- one's hand befo^ lU^'stcf ''°"''"' *°

249

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The Life of the Caterpillar

In addition to this darkness there is the
difficulty of access. The house is hidden by
tall plane-trees; it is approached by a walk
thickly bordered with lilac- and rose-trees,
forming a sort of outer vestibule; it is pro-
tected against the mistral by clumps of pines
and screens of cypresses. Clusters of bushy
shrubs make a rampart a few steps away from
the door. It is through this tangle of
branches, in complete darkness, that the Great
Peacock has to tack about to reach the ob-
ject of his pilgrimage.

Under such conditions, the Brown Owl
would not dare leave the hole in his olive-
tree. The Moth, better-endowed with his
faceted optical organs than the night-bird
with its great eyes, goes forward without
hesitating and passes through without knock-
ing against things. He directs his tortuous
flight so skilfully that, despite the obstacles
overcome, he arrives in a state of perfect
freshness, with his big wings intact, with not
a scratch upon him. The darkness is light
enough for him.

Even if we grant that it perceives certain
rays unknown to common retinae, this extra-
ordinary power of sight cannot be what

250

W^

The Great Peacock

him
the

!e.

warns t

hurrying to th^'VorrreT.'^'
screens interposed make th '"'' - -

Besides, apart fmmi' '^.""' ""Possible,
of which there L no m f''^ -'^'^ ''efractions,

indications p/oWdrdi;^"^;"^"^^'^^^
that we go straight to the ^h '° ^'"'^^

ff^e Moth sometf-nes M / "^ '''"• ^ow

general direction She"fs"otaT l^ ^° ^^^
the exact spot where fh! ^^^' ''"^ ^s to

^'•e happening. Ihlfl •^'["^'"^ ^^^nts
-n's nursery'whih is -11'^^^^^ .^^'^d-
house opposite my studv tl .'"^^ °^ ^^^
v'sitors at the present mn '''' ^"^^ ^^ "^X

.hy the Moths b^;:;:" ZTth:"''' r^p'^^

!" niy hand. TheL T f^'^^ ^ %ht
mformed. There wasfh! '^ ^ '""''^ '""
hesitating visitors in 'he kitch^l '^i°"^ °^
^•f .^ of a lamp, that irrest Se"i;. "J ^'^^ '^'
na^'nsects, may have begutd tie''. ' "°""'-
. L^t us consider only the nl "'P'* «"«.
'" the dark. In these fh ^ '"' ^^at were

^oths. I fin, ^hem :, trr "'"'^ ^^-y

around the actual SD^^ i'" "'^''"y^here

stance, when the cao^.V. — "^ "'• ^^' '""

visitors do not a 1 en'^^lrbv^h" "^^ '^"^^^ ^^e

fhe safe and dir c road 'n V °P'" ^'"'^°^'
rect road, only two or three

251

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''I*

The Life of the Caterpillar

yards away from the caged prisoner. Several
of them come in downstairs, wander about
the hall and at most reach the staircase, a
blind alley barred at the top by a closed door.

These data tell us that the guests at this
nuptial feast do not make straight for their
object, as they would if they derived their in-
formation from some kind of luminous ra-
diation, whether known or unknown to our
physical science. It is something else that ap-
prises them from afar, leads them to the prox-
imity of the exact spot and then leaves the
final discovery to the airy uncertainty of ran-
dom searching. It is very much like the way
in which we ourselves are informed by hear-
ing and smell, guides which are far from ac-
curate when we want to decide the precise
point of origin of the sound or the smell.

What are the organs of information that
direct the rutting Moth on his nightly pil-
grimage? One suspects the antennas, which,
in the males, do in fact seem to be question-
ing -pace with their spreading tufts of
feathers. Are those glorious plumes mere
ornaments, or do they at the same time play
a part in the perception of the effluvia that
guide the enamoured swain? A conclusive

The Great Peacock

experiment seems m «..

Let us try it P""'""^ "« difficulty.

closed The"Xi,rht"';hel'"J' " """
over, about ten o'clock in .h. •'"" ""
out as they came ,„,(,„ „^' '*''"'"8' "ent
firstwindow, whi h'is leftn "J' '^""'^*' ">»

Those eight Ve.triferai'l^."'' ".'«•■';
want for my schemes ^ ^' *'"' '

oth^wL Vuchl^g ?ht MothT"' -••'<»"
antennae, near hf base th^ ' '"J "« *eir
hardly any notice of fk ^''=. Pa''ents take

moves"; th^r: -rrr e tir:"- th^'"- ""'
These are excellent conditions ,.*' """^J
does not seem at all seriouT n 5- ""'""''
by pain, tne Moths be eHf th. "^"'""«'"
adapt themselves all he bette,''^" t"", ""'
The rest of the dav ;. LI- . '"^ P'ans.

"'ade. It is imnnrf/nf- """?«"ients to be

the scene o oZlTo' '" J"^'^"^" ^o shift

female beforeThe !" Tf .hT ^"- ^^T ^^^

^yes of the maimed ones

353

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The Life of the Caterpillar

at the moment when they resume their noc-
turnal flight, else the merit of their quest
would disappear. I therefore move the bell-
jar with its capti^'es and place it under a porch
at the other end of thc^ house, some fifty yards
from my study.

When night comes, I go to make a last in-
spection of my eight victims. Six have flown
out through the open window; two remain
behind, but these have dropped to the floor
and no longer have the strength to turn over
if I lay them on their backs. They are ex-
hausted, dying. Pray do not blame my surgi-
cal work. This quick decreptitude occurs
invariably, even without the intervention of
my scissors.

Six, in better condition, have gone off.
Will they return to the bait txiat attracted
them yesterday? Though deprived of their
antennae, will they be able to find the cage,
now put in another place, at a considerable
distance from its original position?

The cage is standing in the dark, almost
in the open air. From time to time, I go out
with a lantern and a Butterfly-net. Each
visitor is captured, examined, catalogued and
forthwith let loose in an adjoining room, of

254

The Great Peacock

which I dose the door Ti,-

'ion will ennble meto ,eTl hf"'"''' ''™'"^-

with no risk of coumLV LtmTw'o^h""'''"'
than once IUnr«^ V ^ ^>^ioth more

which is spaci^r:n7b;,f ;[-P--y ^-''
danger the prisoners wh"' ,1'"."° ^^^ ^"-
treat there and pTemV ,f ^" ^"^r ' ^"'^^ '•^-
similar precautions dL ''''''^- ^ ^^^" ^^^^e
vestigations """^ "^^ subsequent in-

At half past ten no more arrive TU ■
ting IS over In nil . ajnve. The sit-

been caught o "vhl ''f ^"^"' "^^'^^ have
antenn^.^ Thereforo^ J! °"' ""^ ^'^^^"^
operated yesterday ' and .Ih" °" "^T ^
enough to leave mv^^^ , '"'^''^ ^ale

«e.ds« one Z: TaV^ u^Jj" f^eK 'n •'"'

the antennae ;' a S"^ " ''^"^-g 'hal

begin all over aLin^l ! P"'' ^^^ «"«
vci dgdm, on a Jareer snl#>

255

'iff-

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i 1 1

The Life of the Caterpillar

recover their vigour when the time comes to
dance the lovers' round.

The twenty-four new ones undergo ampu-
tation of the antennae. The old, hornless one
is left out of count, as dying or close to it.
Lastly, the prison-door is left open for the
remainder of the day. He who will may
leave the room, he who can shall join in the
evening festival. In order to put such as go
out to the test of searching for the bride, the
cage, which they would be sure to notice on
the threshold, is once more removed. I shift
it to a room in the opposite wing, on the
ground-floor. The access to this room is of
course left free.

Of the twenty-four deprived of their an-
tennae, only sixteen go outside. Eight re-
main, powerless to move. They will soon die
where they are. Out of the sixteen who have
left, how many are there that return to the
cage in the evening? Not onel I sit up to
capture just seven, all newcomers, all sport-
ing feathers. This result would seem to
show that the amputation of the antennae is a
rather serious matter. Let us not draw con-
clusions yet : a doubt remains and an import-
ant one.

256

The Great Peacock

ii(

his earl "How df I ,h'""''" 5'"' '^°^'«d
the other Dogs^" ''°"' '">' '«« before

Mo'ul,:;d.t'=a;p:'eh^tt^(5"'''!?'" M"'-
their fine plumes, dare the v 2, f '''"'"'"^ "'
amidst their rivals and ^ ° '?"«" "PP'"
itbashfulncss on thefr ^T"^ f ? '»
guidance? Or miffhf , "^ ".■■ '"'' »'
haustion afte T^wai Zt """^ .''^ '^•
duration of an ephrmeral fl T'^' ""^
mcnt shall tell „/"'™"^' "ame? Experi-

Mo^hs/^H tv"o„er:T' ' '■"''' '-"«n
'hey arrive, in": rTom TherXrVr' "
pass the night Nevf • '"'' ""em to

vantage of Their dayHn,e"Z^h-^'^'"S "*
-"ove a little of the /rf ' T,'"'"''' ' ^e-
their corselet. The s Ikv fl° *' ''""' <"'
easily that this sligh ton!ure' H™" "^ "'
convenience the inse«s a al t H^'' "'". '"■

° no organ which m y b "n'eeS'r^ir ^*'"
later, when the t;«,^ "ctessary to them

" m;ans nottgTo'tSXrl"'"' ''^ "«''
means the unmiftakable st .haTtL'" T "
have repeated their visit. ' ""'"

257

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The Life of the Caterpillar

This time there are no weaklings incapable
of flight. At night, the fourteen shaven
Moths escape into the open. Ot course the
place of the cage is once more changed. In
two hours, I capture twenty Moths, including
two tonsured ones, no more. Of those who
lost their antenna two days ago, not one puts
in an appearance. Their nuptial time is over
for good and all.

Only two return out of the fourteen
marked with a bald patch. Why do the
twelve others hang back, although supplied
with what we have assumed to be their guides,
their antennary plumes? Why again that
formidable list of defaulters, which we find
nearly always after a night of sequestration?
I perceive but one reply: the Great Peacock
is quickly worn out by the ardours of pairing-
time.

With a view to his wedding, the one and
only object of his life, the Moth is gifted
with a wonderful prerogative. 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
wherein to indulge his search and his amor-
ous exploits. If he cannot avail himself of

958

fi'y

The Great Peacock

them, all is over • tU

ftila, the brightest of r" ""'."' compa„„

the u,e of livfng afer h\^P%«P'««- What i,

draw into a corner an J J *"""">' "^ with-

which is the end of our l"*^ °" ''" »'«?■
woes ahke. "^ '""""•"« and of our

in Jttptp^rt^^tTp™:,' '^t °"'^

rW of eating. WhilT. ™ ''"ows

)0"y companions one anrf ill «• ""/">■ o""".

'0 flr-r. """'"inTthe'^sp ral 'f^r""""
hoses and dipping it h,n 1\^ "'"'" P^o-

he, the incom^par^be tster' hT"^ ™P''
from the bondage of th/h.n '■.*''°"'' fr«d
°( refreshment His ' ^ ?' '""' "° ""ought
rudiments, vain Simula^ *"P'"' "' ■""«
"P=ble of perLmTn' th |r"f?' "'' °^«»"»
■> S"P enters his stomafh » 1 '™"'°"s- Not
f»-e that it invo ""a brie? •°'" P^'"''8'.
'^7 needs its drop of o^^' f''^!'""- The
"tmguished. The r~ V d '" "°' 'o be
■h« drop, but at tL ^■^'°''' renounces

long life IVo or thre? '""? ''^ ""''""«>
.enough to ailo^the coul'r"'"^'' ^"" ""'«
'» ?!|^ the big M„?bS!ved "'"'"'"''"■"

«aV:f rht ;:htharK-'^^ ^^-^

"»ve lost their antenna?
259

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'•*«i:(

The Life of the Caterpillar

Does it show that the absence of these organs
has made them incapable of finding the wire
bell in which the prisoner awaits them? Not
at all. Like the shorn ones, whose operation
has left them uninjured, they prove oidy that
their time is up. Whether maimed or intact,
they are unfit for duty because of their age;
and their non-return is valueless as evidence.
For lack of the time necessary for experi-
menting, the part played by the antennae es-
capes us. Doubtful it was and doubtful it
remains.

My caged prisoner lives for eight days.
Every evening she draws for my benefit a
swarm of visitors, in varying numbers, now
to one part of the house, now to another, as
I please. I catch them, as they come, with
the net and transfer them, the moment they
are captured, to a closed room, in which they
spend the night. Next morning, I mark them
with a tonsure on the thorax.

The aggregate of the visitors during those
eight evenings amounts to a hundred and
fifty, an astounding number when I consider
how hard 1 had to seek during the following;
two years to collect the materials necessary
for continuing these observations. Though

260

M-r.^ 5

?^^^«;'i

^s^y '~

3*^'^

The Great Peacock

M-irfQ v "^'^P"V"^s live, are scarce n these

trunk, under the Lnlr °"" P^« "f 'ht
which they are claS^. . • ''"'' 8"«" i"

-urned eLpT;.ha„1;r''Trr:f: f ''T '
dred and fiftv M .u "^^'^^^oje my hun-

«iiu ;ijcy iviotns came frnm of
l^rom very far vu'.t-u- '"""^ ,/rom afar,
han. o -1 ' ,W'fn«n a radius of ner-

study? ^^ ^l•lppenmg m my

at,-o„'%''rr''f'uiI""!'''-l"" ^-'^ -f--

^■i-'s: iighe:.otdr„d LiT";: -' "'^"

- e .o speak of vision T his ins an^T'^-
»-.ll rcad.ly admit that sight gui.es the i-,'
TS once they have oasserf ,!,?„ u l ^"^
window. But before »h-„ • ^? '^'' '''' "P""

cuss anything so outragLus. let us pTss on ^^-

261

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The Life of the Caterpillar

Sound Is likewise out of the question. The
great fat Moth, capable of sending a sum-
mons to such a distance, is mute even to the
most acute hearing. It is just possible that
she possesses delicate vibrations, passionate
quivers, which might perhaps be perceptible
with the aid of an extremely sensitive micro-
phone; but remember that the visitors have
to be informed at considerable distances,
thousands of yards away. Under these con-
ditions, we cannot waste time thinking of
acoustics. That would be to set silence the
task of waking the surrounding air.

There remains the sense of smell. In the
domain of our senses, scent, better than any-
thing else, would more or less explain the on-
rush of the Moths, even though they do not
find che bait that allures them until after a
certain amount of hesitation. Are there, in
point of fact, effluvia similar to what we call
odour, effluvia of extreme subtlety, absolutely
imperceptible to ourselves and yet capable of
impressing a sense of smell better-endowed
than ours? There is a very simple experiment
to be made. It is a question of masking those
effluvia, of stifling them under a powerful and
persistent odour, which masters the olfactory

262

h

.^vA rm§''^r^

iln^'lWM

The Great Peacock

"•ening. Also i„ h ' , '• ^'"^^•^'^c^l this

"and in the door«av „f ,!,„ ''''■^' ""'v «
distinct smell ofg^-l"/,""',;" ""," K« •••
The Moths >rrWrjl,Jlr"'''"'''t-

is sh/ken"" Beside," ??'''"°^^ -'"---

on. Worn ou bv her IrT "'"'''"^ '" «°
soner dies on the ninth j. *"','' "'^ P""

unfertilized eggs on ,h/''' • '" ^,=>"'"« *"■•
cage In fh, fP , wirework of the

--;, th:.f .^noZe" o\"h''" "' '."P"'-
year. "^ ^° ^^ ^«"e until next

as often Is I w^^t ,^ "' '° ^' "''''= '" ^'P<^«
Have ,, JVJJ'-JS-P-^^^^^

rs'iir ""^ ""^'' "■'"■ »^ 'Lrwii

263

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H<

The Life of the Caterpillar

In the summer, I proclaim myself a buyer
of caterpillars at a sou apiece. The offer ap-
peals to some urchins in the neighbourhood,
my usual purveyors. On Thursdays, emanci-
pated from the horrors of parsing,^ they scour
the fields, find the fat caterpillar from time
to time and bring him to me clinging to the
end of a stick. They dare not touch him,
poor mites ; they are staggered at my audacity
when I take him in my fingers as they might
take the familiar Silk-worm.

Reared on almond-tree branches, my me-
nagerie in a few days supplies me with mag-
nificent cocoons. In the winter, assiduous
searches at the foot of the fostering tree com-
plete my collection. Friends interested in my
enquiries come to my assistance. In short, by
dint of trouble, much running about, commer-
cial bargains and not a few scratches from
brambles, I am the possessor of an assortment
of cocoons, of which twelve, bulkier and
heavier than the others, tell me that they be-
long to females.

A disappointment awaits me, for May ar-
rives, a fickle month which brings to naught

* Thursday is the weekly holiday in French schools. —
Translator's Note.

264

\

The Great Peacock

fht let s r 't:t:r' t

leave off. ^ oeginning to

;n which the fZL Jll^ rCLX;
.o-mo-row, ,ccordi„g ,o the orde/of their

s d ' ATdT^'."' "°"^ ^""^ f™" 'hVou :
wVh , >'";'>"» are some close at hand

grown cold The lovers have

:i:ts:drr''rr"P * *"^^^

y year ,s lost. Oh, what laborious work is
265

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The Life of the Caterpillar

this experimenting at the mercy of the sud-
den changes and deceptions of a short season !

I begin all over again, for the third time.
I rear caterpillars, I scour the country in
search of cocoons. When May returns, I am
suitably provided. The weather is fine and
responds to my hopes. I once more see the
incursions which had struck me so powerfully
at the beginning, at the time of the historic
invasion which first led to my researches.

Nightly the visitors turn up, in squads of
twelve, twenty or more. The female, a lusty,
big-bellied matron, clings firmly to the trellis-
work of the cage. She makes no movement,
gives not so much as a flutter of the wings,
seems indifferent to what is going on. Nor
is there any odour, so far as the most sensitive
nostrils in the household can judge, nor any
rustle perceptible to the most delicate hearing
among my family, all of whom are called in
to bear evidence. In motionless contempla-
tion she waits.

The others, in twos or threes or more, flop
down upon the dome of the cage, run about
it briskly in every direction, lash it with the
tips of their wings in continual movement.
There are no affrays between rivals. With

266

^^^^^

:W

The Great Peacock

closure -nrit „?'!" ^"'^ "> '"'" '^e en-
fly away and iofn .t ™.'" »"™P'^. 'hey
dancers.' SoL^i.L'g u^a rL''™^ °'

til ten o'clodc "n th " ' -"P °' "«^ "8=. •"-
proach are inceJanr'"'"^' T"'P'' '" ^P"
^bandoned andTst^Tn TZtf '"" ^ "=

I-te.^yt™ea„dl„gen;)f;t\;*\'-::

Yetdar^^^^iifr" "'T "^ P'« here.

instaUed ^; a certat "' *%./=■"''= was
males came «„"eril S; /''' '""'"''^
hours; several even spent A • u°"P ' "^
Next day, at sunt? , k^ i *' "'S'« 'here.

are out o doors 1:^^/" ' "JT ">' 'S^' "»
aoors. Ephemeral though they be

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The Life of the Caterpillar

the newest comers are ready to repeat their
nocturnal expeditions a second time and a
third. Where will they go first, these vete-
rans of a day?

They know all about the meeting-place of
yesterday. One is inclined to think that they
will go back to it, guided by memory, and
that, finding nothing left, they will proceed
elsewhither to continue their investigations.
But no: contrary to my expectations, they do
tiothing of the sort. Not one reappears in the
place which was so thickly crowded last night;
not one pays even a short visit. The room is
recognized as deserted, without the prelimi-
nary enquiry which recollection would seem
to demand. A more positive guide than me-
mory summons them elsewhere.

Until now the female has been left exposed,
under the meshes of a wire gauze. The visit-
ors, whose eyes are used to piercing the black-
est gloom, can see her by the vague light of
what to us is darkness. What will happen if
I imprison her under an opaque cover? Ac-
cording to its nature, will not this cover either
set free or arrest the tell-tale effluvia?

Physical science is to-day preparing to
give us wireless telegraphy, by means of the

268

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The Great Peacock

Hertzian waves Tan *i,^ r- ^

have an-icipnte lour Snri ^,^?",.P""'''

trie or magnetic waves, which one sorf nf
nothing impossible in this- in.Prfc

'°Tlr pent things'!;:i;e'rw:„x;;"^
vaL^4tc:;^^^roLt:'r/T>^

some of cardboard, somTo wood 1 1 ""'

puccy. 1 also use a elass HpII Jo- .* i-
the insulating suppoft Tf a ^i/of gl ^s' ^"
Well, under these conditions of sTric "do
sing, never a male arrives not on. h

favourable the. i;idnessa"drulrof\te:
mg No matter its nature, whether of metal

Im?' 1 . ' '" insuperable obstacle to the
effluvia that betrav the cinflv^v . "^, ^"*^
A lo, r ^ captive s whereabouts
A layer of cotton two finircrs thick trives the
same result. I place the female in a la ge Ja,
tying a sheet of wadding over the moutVby

269

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The Life of the Caterpillar

way of a lid. This is enough to keep the
neighbourhood in Ignorance of the secrets of
my laboratory. No male puts in an appear-
ance.

On the other hand, make use of ill-dosed,
cracked boxes, or even hide them in a drawer,
in a cupboard; and, notwithstanding this
added mystery, the Moths will arrive in num-
bers as great as when they come thronging
to the trellised cage standing in full view on
a table. I have retained a vivid recollection
of an evening when the recluse was waiting
in a hat-box at the bottom of a closed wall-
cupboard. The Moths arrived, went to the
door, struck it with their wings, knocked at
it to express their wish to enter. Passing way-
farers, coming no one knows whence across
the fields, they well knew what was inside
there, behind those boards.

We must therefore reject the idea of any
means of information similar to that of wire-
less telegraphy, for the first screen set up,
whether a good conductor or a bad, stops the
female's signals, completely. To give these a
free passage and carry them to a distance, one
condition is indispensable: the receptacle in
which the female is contained must be imper-

270

I >a*

The Great Peacock

brings usb^ck eo hrprobaWi.?"; "'^ Z''"
'hough ,h,t was conSctd L '" '"'""r-
ment with naphthali"r ^ "">' '"P"'"

another year, the four h' I I 7 "«'.'"
'Jought for the foZL'g r LsonT^Mott

gallant certaWy needs „rn" •'"'""'• "^he

his ends; but 2 feebLZli """' '° "'»'"

ion eannot dispeLet^tTlt '.^^ ^IZ
nave at leasf a /^o^^i l- , "e"t- i must

saves us from these sudH,r T- ^ I'"'""
dim light, streaked ;ihb;o,d£?' '"'^ '"
not suit a conscientious observeH^"^' ■'/
who wants to see and to see deajf ' ""'^"''

A:hf;roiZ'?'''«!'"'f="-P diverts

f- .bo,>\ires:td," /;t C"' '"?

™akT ;°,rrh fo:^:h""fl "-'" *- '^'

a a ' • " '^'^ tne name s mn*. f»,»-

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scorching received, cease to be trustworthy
witnesses. When they are not burnt, when
they are kept at a distance by a glass chimney,
they perch as close as they can to the light
and there stay, hypnotized.

One evening, the female was in the dining-
room, on a table facing the open window. A
lighted paraffin-lamp, with a large white-
enamel shade, was hanging from the ceiling.
Two of the arrivals alighted on the dome of
the cage and fussed around the prisoner;
seven others, after greeting her as they passed,
made for the lamp, circled about it a little and
then, fascinated by the radiant glory of the
opal cone, perched on it, motionless, under
the shade. Already the children's hands were
raised to seize them.

"Don't," I said. "Leave them alone. Let
us be hospitable and not disturb these pilgrims
to the tabernacle of light."

All that evening, not one of the seven
budged. Next morning, they were still there.
The intoxication of light had made them for-
get the intoxication of love.

With creatures so madly enamoured oi the
radiant flame, precise and prolonged experi-
ment becomes unfeasible the moment the ob-

272

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mi^.^

1'he Great Peacock

tials. I wan' i M ,p, • , """"''nal nup-
equally .kZ ICC'J""T *"''''^'

d" for a momcn Id „ P f "-onologlcal or.
a late.con,er wl Trnvfj \t Tr?^"'"
P'cted my enauiries I , " ' ''•'"J com.

cocic r^«,cl Z ' • "■"" "'e Lesser Pea.

««. w.th its thick, irre/uL f" ,°^*" ^"«■•-
to extract a case s mil! •/''*' " "'^ easy
Peacock's, bu n''^y V-fPe to the Great

fore-end, vorfced Into 1 /' J"""""' The
'-P by means of " « „d ^'"''" °' '" eel-
«h,ch prevent access t„ 1 7"'^'"K '"'™.
permitting egress „,h° , ' ^"^"'"8 ^^'le
>"lls, inJicatfd a kT„' "' " *"•'"■"'' "f 'he
""•nal Moth the sfikh?"'!" °^ ""^ '"'k "°c-
And, in point o fa,/?''' '^'."'""'' "'"''•
March, on fhe morn " 'o fp Y^""^ ^"'i "f
"coon with the ee"" °f '^''".S"nday, the

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The Life of the Caterpillar

whom I at once seclude under a wire-gauze
hell in my study. I open the window to allow
the event to be made known all over the dis-
trict; I want the visitors, if any come, to lit^d
free entrance. The captive grips the wires
and does not move for a week.

A gorgeous creature is my prisoner, in her
brown velvet streaked with wavy lines. She
has white fur around her neck: a speck of car-
mine at the tip of th^ upper wings; and four
large, eye-shaped spots, in which black, white,
red and yellow-ochre are grouped in concen-
tric crescents. The uress Is very like that of
the Great Peacock, but less dark in colouring.
I have seen this Moth, so remarkable for si/.c
and costume, three or four times in my life.
It was only the other day that I first saw the
cocoon. The male I have never seen. I onlv
know that, according to the books, he is ha.r
the aize of the female and of a brighter and
more "orid colour, with orange-yellow on the
lower wings.

Will he come, the unknown spark, the
plume-wearer on whom I have never set eyes,
so rare does he appear to be in my part oi the
country? In his distant hedges will he receive
news of the bride that aw; " him on my study

274

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The Great Peacock

expected. ' """ '"O"" 'han I

''■h«eagc.ri„;;;^,^;^-. ";»'»'« "Wing

pen, suddenly runs un^„ u, h' t I '" ''"''■

'n his fingers flu«crs';;S,J'Mth''"^"*^
aught that mompn. i, '^ ■ °'''' " Moth

an unspoken question. '^ ' ^" "^^ ^^^^

"Hullo!" I sav "Tu:. • .l
we were expec tn^g. L f,'foW ""^ P"^"'"

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The Life of the Caterpillar

spring in our part of the world. To-
day the temperature has suddenly grown
milder, but the wind is still blowing from the

Now at this first visit all the Moths hur-
rying to the prisoner enter the enclosure hep
the north; they follow the movcn.en' ?f tr -
air; not one beats against it. If their compass
were a sense of smell similar to our own, if
they were guided bv odoriferous particles dis-
solved in the air, thev ought to arrive fiom
the opposite direction. If they came from the
south, we might believe them to be informed
by effluvia carried by the wind; coming as they
do from the north, through the mistral, that
mighty sweeper of the atmosphere, how can
we suppose them to have perceived, at a great
distance, what we call a smell? This reflux
of scented atoms in a direction contrary to the
aerial current seems to me inadmissible.

For a couple of hours, in radiant sun-
shine, the visitors come and go outside the
front of the study. Most of them search
for a long while, exploring the wall, flit-
ting along the ground. To see their hesita-
tion, one would think that they were at a loss
to discover the exact place of the bait that at

276

The Great Peacock

tracts them. Thoufrh fh^,r u

very far without mistketL/™ """' ''''""

of their bearings oetL'^ "" """"=""

Nevertheless so, neror later Th."" ""' '"t

shine. The Great P.." T'"^' ?'^'^"' ^""-

contrast of habits '^ ' "''''"8'=

of in''strL!'nr.t%:^sV:^ Sf doT^'r
prevent the Moths' arriving /r^m 'a dl^C

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opposite to that of the odoriferous flux, as
our physics imagine it.

If I am to go on with my observations, I
want a day Moth; not the Lesser Peacock,
who made his appearance too late, at a time
when I had nothing to ask him, but another,
no matter whom, provided that he be quick
at discovering nuptial feasts. Shall I find
this Moth ?

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278

if

CHAPTER XII

THE BANDED MONK

wideawake face thlfi ,'' °' ''^"'' ^i"' »
day, bare feet anrf, ''™'" ' «« »«hed every
held up by a b1? If T"' "' ".""^"^ •"'"'^h"
reg«larVtosucDlv I, r^' ' ''°'' '^'"' ™™«
tomato '.arrive 'one tn ''•"'"" '"^"'P' '"^
basket of vegetables ATeTlh* ^"^'"e '''»

/rdayne?of S"^^^^^^^^^^

grass for the RabS " ''''^'' '^'"'^ ^'^''■"8

*e".tt:uu'„t'"..'^l^: '': -"^t Voiding
you havi it ?" "^''" ^'"'"' 'his ? Will

me'I^'err'aVI;^™ ''• ^^ -" ^-d

promise yoTpTentv of rid/' '"'u ""' ""^ ''"

on Sund'ay. MeaVwMe ™ td^b"'^'''"'
penny for vou Hnn v i^ ^'^' ^^""^ ^ a

you give in vo- . ""'^^ ' "^'^^^^^ ^^hen
y give in your accounts; put it somewhere

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The Life of the Caterpillar

where you won't mix It up with the turnip-
money."

Dazzled with delight at the sight of so
much wealth, my little ragamuffin promises to
search with a will, already seeing visions of a
fortune to be his.

When he has gone, I examine the thing.
It is worth while. It is a handsome cocoon,
blunt-shaped, not at all unlike the product of
our Silk-worm nurseries, of a firm consistency
and a tawny colour. The cursory informa-
tion which I have picked up from books of
reference makes me almost certain that it is
the Bombyx of the Oak, the Oak Eggar. if
this is so, what luck I I shall be able to con-
tinue my observations and perhaps complete
what the Great Peacock began to show me.

The Oak Eggar Is, In fact, a classic; there
is not an entomological treatise but speaks of
his exploits in the wedding-season. They tell
us how a mother hatches in captivity. Inside a
room and even hidden in a box. She is far
away from the country, amid the tumult of a
big town. The event is nevertheless divulgetl
to those whom it concerns in the woods and
the meadows. Guided by some inconceivable
compass, the males arrive, hastening from the

280

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The Banded Monk

distant fields ; thev trn tn th^ u

round and round It ^°"' ''^ ^^ '^' %

I had read of these marvels- J ..f c •
seeing with one's own eves Tn^' '"' '^^'"8'

time experimenting a little s nui " 'T
matter. What rlnt ^"'^^ another

in store fT^J^^lfr/ '""'^ ^^'^
emerge from Tt? ' '^' ^''"^"^ ^^"^byx

BaJdeVMo"" '^^his' '" f'^^ "--• ^^e
is sugge^ed hy S m.7e's"i"'"' °' ^'""^
frock of a mod^sf usT;town""Bl"°t'^
case the stuff is i de]TJI J ^"^ '" ^his

transversal band and a little' r.'' "'^^ ^ ^^'^
dot on the front w"ngs ^^'''' '''''^'^'^

The Banded Mont \o ,.««. •

sura, duHn. an h. r ""' '" "^ '""^'y ^"^'o-
™i'^ the coll Z-rdeairrl ''''"'"• ' ^*

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remarkable in size and costume would cert-
ainly not have escaped me had I met him.

The little seeker whom I had caught so
nicely with a promise of the roundabout never
made a second find. For three years I re-
quisitioned friends and neighbours, especially
the youngsters, those sharp-eyed scrapers of
the brushwood; I myself scraped a great deal
under masses of dead leaves, inspected stone-
heaps, examined hollow tree-trunks. My
trouble was in vain : the precious cocoon was
nowhere to be found. Suffice it to say that
the Banded Monk is very scarce in my neigh-
bourhood. The importance of this detail will
be seen when the time comes.

As I suspected, my solitary cocoon did be-
long to the famous Moth. On the 20th
of August there emerges a female, corpulent
and big-bellied, attired like the male, but in u
lighter frock, more in the nankeen style. ^
establish her in a wire-gauze bell-jar in ''
middle of my study, on the big laborat .ry
table, littered with books, pots, trays, bo
test-tubes and other engines of science. 1
have described the setting before: it is the
same as in the case of the Great Peacock. The
room is lighted by two windows looking out

282

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The Banded Monk

on the garden. One is closed, the other is
kept open day and night. The Moth is placed

pas?;iC^tytrto'r:/^"T
Uo^^* u f ""/•^'"'■g uortn mcntionmir

Hanging by her claws to the front of the tret
I'swork, on the side nearest the li.ht he
prisoner ,s motionless, inert. The t i's no
wavmg of the wings, no quivering of th an
S^ha'vr '° ''' ''' ^-ale^Cre;^::

nesn hardens. By some process of which our
snence has not the remotest idea, sreelabor
ates an irresistible bait which wi 1 bring cal
ers flockmg to her from the four co nfrs of
the heavens. What takes place in tha fa
tha/' uV ^^^"^^^""at'ons'^ are perfoLed
'??",fr''"'^y revolutionize everXn^
around? Were they known to us the Moth?

On the third day the bride is ready The

were thl ''t,'^"5'''"'"8 ^^ success, so long

o^Tock -n ?h ^t''^' ^'^^"' ^^ ^bout thref
o clock m the afternoon, in very hot weather

283

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The Life of the Caterpillar

and brilliant sunshine, I saw a host of Moths
gyratinjj; in the embrasure of the open
window.

It is the lovers coming to call upon their
sweetheart. Some are just leaving the
room, others going in, others again arc
perched upon the wall, resting as though
jaded after a long journey. I see some ap-
proaching in the distance, over the walls, over
the curtain of cypress-trees. They are hurry-
lu^r up from all directions, bu«- becoming more
and more rare. I missed the beginning of the
reception; and the guests are nearly all here.

Let us go upstairs. This time, in broaii
daylight, without losing a single detail, I once
more witness the bewildering spectacle into
which the great night Moth initiated me. My
study is filled with a swarm of males, whom I
estimate at a glance to number about sixty, as
far as it is possible to make a count in this
seething mass. After circli. a few times
round the cage, several go to the open wind-
ow, but return again forthwith and resume
their evolutions. The most eager perch on
the cage, hustle and trample on one another,
fighting- for the good places. Inside the bar-
rier, the captive waits impassively, with her

284

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The Banded Monk

Krent paunch hanKlnj. against ^hc wires She

.1;:" ruv;';i':ir"'^''" '" •''^ ^--^

up their positions in ".1 "s forlh" '"'"

amly be renewed to-morrow, for ^ ,, n
w.thout result, because of the wires "

Mantis, worthy of attention because o?T/
exccptiona V small «;^. o ^'^^"^f of her

nab.tation can ti. out III TK« \- • •

such a Httle s' Pr .1- u '^'^"^'^ "^

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The Life of the Caterpillar

obese! And thus I entertained no apprehen-
sions.

Ah, little did I know the bloodthirsty fur)
of which the grapnelled insect is capable!
Next morning, to my bitter astonishment, 1
find the tiny Mantis devouring the hu«e
Moth. The head and the front part of the
breast have already disappeared. Horrible
creature 1 What a disappointment I owe to
youl Farewell to my researches, which I
had cherished in my imagination all night
long; not for three years shall I be
able to resume them, for lack of a sub-
ject.

Bad luck must not, however, make us for-
get the little that we have learnt. At one
sitting, some sixty males came. Consider-
ing the rarity of the Monk and remember-
ing the years of fruitless searches conducted
by my assistants and myself, we stand
astounded ' ihis number. With a female
for a bait, the undiscoverable has suddenly
become a niultitude.

Now where did they come from? From
every quarter and from very far, beyond a
doubt. During my years of exploration of
my neighbourhood, I have got to know every

286

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I'"' '^'■"i^«"d every hcpp of stones- -in.l r

taitu at icjst frrants me twn iVf i

b^thc hem, within a few davinf, ,'"«"*'■
give mc a female Th;; ' ' • ''' '"'"•■'••

which will aZ mel varVaiT "' '""
tests. "^y ^"" '■^nt-'W my

from Jhe' Greaf p'acocr Th""' ■'," ■ "■"'
the day is „„ less c ever ,h-n ,h' ^F'"' "'■
'he night. He baffles a my ",; ""«/'"■ "'

caske k h ^^"^"".^^ '"^"'•mation, when the
casket IS hermetically sealed. Thus far we

287

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The Life of the Caterpillar

see merely a repetition of the feats of the
Great Peacock.

A well-closed box, the air contained In
which does not communicate with the outer
atmosphere, leaves the Monk, in complete ig-
norance of the prisoner's whereabouts. Not
one arrives, even when the box is exposed for
every eye to see in the window. This brings
back, more urgently than ever, the idea of
odoriferous effluvia, intransmissible through a
wall of metal, cardboard, wood or glass, no
matter which.

When put to the test, the great night Moth
was not baffled by the naphthaline, whose po-
werful smell ought, to my il .nking, to mask
ultrasubtle emanations. Imperceptible to any
human nostrils. I repeat the experiment with
the Monk. This time I lavish all the re-
sources in the way of scents and stenches that
my store of drugs permits.

I place the saucers, partly Inside the wire-
gauze cage, the female's prison, and partly
all round it, in a continuous circle. Some con-
tain naphthaline, others oil of lavender,
others paraffin, others, lastly, alkaline sul-
phurs smelling of rotten eggs. Short of
asphyxiating the prisoner, I can do no more.

288

t7r#:--T;

The Banded Monk

b" that I smokeXf ""'""'• '<<^'"™-

« 'hat. Wilfth "„ /ntmed"^'''"'''^''"^
gas-works, a smoker", !?'' '"^°"" °f »
»" oil-well and rche^-cflT; ' '^^'-'"'P.
putting off the Monk" "^ '"'^"J '"

cage, whfch I have tak^n ■ '^ ^^ ^^ ^he
a ^hick kitchen-cloth so Jlf""' '"^ '°^^^ ^''^^
culty. Though thev°' .T- '''^^ '^^ d'^'
ave entered'fhoug'h t^VtV'^!.^ -^'^^
foreign atmosphere fn wM if '^P^^^ '" ^
grance should have been .»^'."^ '"^'^' ^^^■
towards the prisoner an/^.'^''^^' '^^^ ^V
^J'PPing under the fo "ds o/ h '1 'l! ^" ^>^
artifices are fruitless '''°^^- ^y

'nent with the Great Ppn.^?'"" '^P^'''-

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The Life of the Caterpillar

theory that odorous effluvia serve as a guide
to the Moths invited to the nuptial feast.
That I did not do so was due to a casual ob-
servation. The unexpected, the fortuitous,
often provides us with one of those surprises
which show us the road to the truth, hitherto
sought in vain.

One afternoon, trying to discover whether
sight plays any part in the search, once that
the Moths have entered the room, I place the
female in a glass bell-jar and give her a little
oak-branch, with withered leaves, as a perch.
The apparatus is put on a table, opposite the
open window. On entering, the Moths can-
not fail to see the prisoner, standing as she
does where they are bound to pass. The pan
with its layer of sand, in which the female
spent the previous night and the morning un-
der a wire-gauze covfr. Is in my way. I put
it, without premeditation, on the floor at the
other end of the room, in a corner which is
only dimly lighted. It is seven yards from
the window.

The result of these preparations upsets all
my ideas. Of the Moths arriving, none stops
at the glass bell, where the female is plainly
visible, in the full light. They pass by with

290

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f lii'l

The Banded Monk

utter indlfferenrp M^* i

f" end of the Zom tj ZV'?^' ""^'
where I placed the tray nd the tt 7h""
ahght on the trelHscd tn^, , ^, ^''=>'
'ength, flapping th w nt a"nd h^'lr " ''
another a little All ,hc """ling one

-. they da:l%.^ If --"dd"'' T
same sarahand to which thV?,''"'"' ''"^
of the fen,ale would ^Je'L^A ,"??"
fly away, but not all of them Th, "">■

s.stent ones who refuse to cr'. ^'""f" P"-
spot by some n.agiclttractiof'"'""^'""'^

to wh^fhe't il"'-- ""'^.M""-' hasten
there and wilT Z,T H^' ''^' ">''■• "and

peated;XoTth:irtrthey';''as"'^^r

out stopping for a mr^r^ : l! 7 P^" ^'f^*

in. whicT th'e tmairc™" 1 1 if to'f ■«'""
ceived by one or nfh./ ? u ^° ^^ P^r-

tention to the real thing ''^'^P^>^"°^^-

What IS ft that deceives them ? Th. « t, i
of the n ght befnrp nn-^ ii f " ^ "^ ^"o^e

female h^^o ^rned unde^'ir""'"^' ^'^

cover, either hanging to the trell"""f "^'^

resting on the sanH 1 ?i, ^'^elhswork, or

S on tne sand m the pan. Whatever

292

, t!?J:; ■'

I

k? V.

^A^.Mi^'

|V^>^.

'''^^-■^..

m

The Life of the Caterpillar

she touched, above all with her fat belly ap-
parently, has become impregnated, as the re-
sult o^ long contact, with certain emanations.
There you have her bait, her love-philtre;
there you have what revolutionizes the world
of Monks. The sand retains it for a time and
spreads its effluvia around.

It is smell therefore that guides the Moths,
that gives them information at a distance.
Dominated by the sense of smell, they take
no notice of what their eyes tell them; they
pass by the glass prison in which their lady-
love is now interned; they go to the wires, to
the sand, on which the magic cruets have shed
their contents; they race to the wilderness
where naught remains of the witch but the
scented evidence of her sojourn.

The irresistible philtre takes a certain time
to elaborate. I picture it as an exhalation
which is gradually given off and saturates
everything that touches the fat, motionless
creature. When the glass bell stands directly
on the table or, better still, on a square of
glass, the communication between the interior
and the outer air is insufficient; and the males,
perceiving nothing by the sense of smell, keep
away, however long the experiment be con-

292

U^\

\'<:%^

■«^m^'-^t^ 'J:

The Banded Monk

port by means of three wedges th^ \ir!.u
do not come at fir«^ K« "''^"S"' the Moths

takes place as usual. '*" °^ '^''''°"

Now that I possess these data tU;o
pected lighe on .he subject"! tT^^tV^t
>ary my experiments, all of which lead tntl,

'ITlZtta '" ''' ""'^"■"^ ' -^^ h

rnp remale under a wire-gauze cover M».
Per^ .s a little oak-twig LilarTthe l",
Here motionless as though dead, she remains

When visitiZ-'^""''' '''* *■" ^"'^naeions
the twF^ 1 f ?' Wroaches, I withdraw
he twig, perfectly saturated, and lay it on a

t^ ?f" ""' °P=" ''"dow. On the o°her

tvtw'rth\^hT''-""l"''"^-"^^^^^^^^
room ' '" "'^ '"''^'"e of the

thil'",^°t ""?• ""' »"'• then two and
free, soon five and six. They come in, go

i

ft? i •.

If ■='

Ji'l

i-'C^SW

I-

-i'i

"**'H.^,:

If ■

: I

The Life of the Caterpillar

out, come In again, fly up and down, go to and
fro, keeping all the time to the neighbour-
hood of the chair with its oak-branch. ISot
one makes for the big table, a few paces far-
ther into the room, where the female is wait-
ing for them under the trellised don They
are hesitating, that is clear; they are seeking
At last they find. And what do they hnd^
The very twig which in the morning had
served the pot-bellied matron as a bed. With
wings swiftly fluttering, they alight upon the
branch; they explore it above and below,
probe it, lift it and move it, until at last the
little bit of foliage drops on the floor. 1 he
probing between the leaves continues none the
less. Under the buffeting of the wings and
the clawing of the feet, the stick is now run<
ning along the ground, like a scrap of paper
pawed by a kitten. . .

While the twig is moving away with its
band of explorers, two new arrivals come
upon the scene. On their way, they have to
pass the chair, which for a brief spell bore the
leafy stick. They stop at it and eagerly in-
vestigate the very spot which but now w;:^
covered by the branch. And yet, in their case
as in that of the others, the real object of their

294

'•■■^i: i> i». «i .1-'.

The Banded Monk

he^,» °''' "'^ Monks continue to hustle
the inattress on which the female lay in the

^e spot where th,s bedding was first placed.

growing famter, are dispersing. The visitors

.^nToTro'w"""'™' """" ^'°- ^-''•'■ye ^

The following tests tell me that any ma-

ena , no matter what, can take the plJce of
the leafy branch, that chance inspiration of
mme. Some time in advance, I place the f°
male on a couch of cloth or flannel, of wad-
omg or paper. I even subject her to'the hard-

m fa? Mrr"' ? """"'• 8'"^' •^"We or
Zk- . > "l"'. """J""' =''" a contact of
sufficient length, have the same powerful at

nerselt. They retain this property to a vary-
ing extent, according to their nature Th
best are wadding, flannel, dust, sand, in shor
porous objects. Metals, marble and glass

Lastly, anythmg on which the female has

295

ilr I

1^1
•1 '

16

The Life of the Caterpillar

rested communicates its virtue to other places
by simple contact, as witness the Moths
crowding to the seat of the cane-bottomed
chair after the oak-branch had fallen from it.
Let us use one of the best beds, flannel, for
instance and we shall see a curious thing. 1
place at the bottom of a long test-tube or of
a narrow-necked bottle, just wide enough to
allow of the Moth's passage, a piece of flannel
on which the mothei has been lying all the
morning. The callers go int > the vessels,
flounder about, do not know how to get out
again. I have invented a mouse-trap for them
by means of which I could do terrific execu-
tion. Let us release the poor things, remove
the piece of stuff and put it away in ?.n her-
metically closed box. The infatuated Moths
go back to the test-tube, headlong reenter
the trap. They are attracted by the effluvia
which the saturated flannel has imparted to

the glass.

I am fully convinced. To summon the
Moths of the district to the wedding, to ap-
prise them at a distance of her presence and
to guide them, the bride emits an extremely
subtle scent, imperceptible to our own organs
of smell. With the mother Monk held to

2q6

The Banded Monk

their nostrils, those around me perceive not
the least odour, not even the youngest, whose
senses are no, yet vitiated.

Jhis quintessence easily impregnates every
object on which the female rests for any
length of time; and thenceforth the actual
object becomes as potent a centre of attraction

are d%Xd" '""''' ""'' ''' ^"^'^-^'-^
^ Nothing visible betrays the bait. On a

whL'hl'"^"''' ^ '"""^ resting-place around
which the visitors crowd, there is not an ap-
preciable trace, no mois.^ure of any kind: the
suj^face IS just as clean as before the impregna-

The product is slowly elaborated and has to
accumulate a little while before manifesting
its full strength. When taken from her
couch and placed elsewhere, the female loses

nt\ VT^'Trr^"' ^^" ^'"^^ ^"'^ becomes an
object of indifference; it is the resting-place,
saturated by long contact, that draws the
newcomers. But the batteries are recharged
and the deserted one recovers her power.
. 1 he appearance of the wa.-ning effluvium
's delayed for a longer or shorter period a^
cording to the species. The newly-hatched

297

^ ,

tt

II r.

r-

1*

'i -r

"^"^■m

The Life of the Caterpillar

Moth has to mature for a time and to put her
distillery in order. A female Great Peacock,
born in the morning, sometimes has visitors
that same evening, but oftencr on the second
day, after preparations lasting some forty
hours. The female Banded Monk adjourns
her summons longer than that: her banns of
marriage are not published until after two or
thr*e days' waiting.

Let us return for a moment to tlie problem-
atical functions of the antennae. The male
Monk sports a sumptuous pair, similar to
those of the Great Peacock, who vies with
him in his matrimonial expeditions. Are we
to look upon these hairy feelers as a guiding
compass? I repeat, without laying much
stress on the matter, my former amputations.
None of the patients comes back. We must
be chary of drawing inferences, however.
The Great Peacock has si own us that the
failure to return is due to more serious rea-
sons than amputation Oi tlic horns.

Moreover, a second Monk, the Clo\ci
Bombyx, nearly akin to the first and, like him,
superbly plumed, sets us an exceedingly per-
plexing problem. He is fairly plentiful
arc-und my place ; even in the enclosure I find

298

'.-■ -^^.W^

<j<7: M-^^>^m:im^Bms»

The Banded Monk

his cocoon which might easily be confused

a fiml rh'^ ""'' ^ur'^'- ' ^- ^^^^^
at hrst by the resemblance. Out of six co

fiTn'/xr, ^''^ ' ^^P«^^d to obtain
Banded Monks, six females of the other pe"
ces hatch at the end of August. VVel
around those six females, born in my house
never a male appears, though there is no

If spreading feathered antenna are really
organs for receiving information at a distan e

7oLl7 T ^^ ^.'^hjy-h--d neighbours n-'
WhTdo^i ^^'' '%hWening in mv study?
Why do the.r fine plumes leave them mdiffer-

\fonk b T • '^^' ^^"''^ ^'■'■"g '^' Banded
Monk hastenmg up m crowds? Once more,
the organ does not determine the aptitude
Th,s one js g.fted and that one is not. despite
organic simdarity. ""P»tc

4

TJJ

tf

299

If J

CHAPTER XIII

's|

THE SENSE OF SMELL

IN PHYSICS we hear of nothing nowadays
but the Rontgcn rays, which penetrate
dense bodies and photograph the invisible for
us. A fine discovery, but how insignificant
in face of the surprises which the future re-
serves for us when, better-informed of the
why and wherefore of thin-^s, we supplement
with art the feebleness of our sens**" and suc-
ceed in rivalling, be it ever so little, the keen-
ness of perception revealed by the brute crea-
tion.

How enviable, in many cases, is this animal
superiority! It teaches us the poverty of our
attainments; it declares the mediocrity of our
sensory apparatus; it gives us evidence of
impressions foreign to our nature; it pro-
claims realities so far in excess of our attri-
butes that they astound us.

A wretched caterpillar, the Pine Proces-
sionary, splits his back into meteorological
air-holes which snuff the coming weather and

300

r/^f

•*'J\i**-^^ -

•BawnpwuwiK ii"ii—p ■■'■MfHi'ii m wiiiiif-r Jtr" '?><&.'

The Sense of Smell
forettll the squall; the bird of prev with i,.

gro„;d"the''bli r'tr" '^™"'"'' "" '"^
grouna, the blinded Bats guide their fli„h»

H'.thoue mjury to the ,selves arr, d"' Z
Jan. s' .nextr cable ma..e of threaT; the Car.'

homfnT 'f'rtjr''^ a hundred league,
from home, mfall.bly regains his cote across
.mme„s,e.e, which he has never traversed un

Be'; The'rh'r 'T' «' ^^'^ humbler fllgh,
a Bee, the Chahcodoma.' also spans the un

known, accomplishes a long journey and re'
turns to her mass of cells. ^

The man who has never ^cen a Do^ h.mf
ing for truffles does not know one o the fines;
achievements of the sen.e of smell Absorbed
!" .ts functions, the animal trots along wih
i s nose to the wind, at a moderate pace It

exXmen/ 1 • T '''''"^'' ^i' >"f ""due
excitement, and looks up at i^s master:

Here we are," it seems to say, "here we

her of important wo£ on th*' . ^■'""" "^ '"» """>-
"n cligestion, on g ^cratU an^n f ''°" "^ '''' ^'°°^'
'a/^r'j Note. '"^ ^"'f'' ^''^P- xix.-Trani-

301

iaMJBi»i<#i:'i^ ■ ;'..Mk

The Life of the Caterpillar

are I On my word of honour as a Dog,
there's a truffle here."

And it speaks the truth. The master digs
at the point indicated. If the trowel goes
astray, the Dog shows the man how to put it
right by sniffing at the bottom of the hole.
Do not be afraid of the stones and roots in
between: despite the depth and intervening
obstacles, the tuber will come. A Dog's nose
cannot lie.

"Subtlety of smell," you say.

I have no objection, if by that yt a mean
that the animal's nasal passages are the or-
gan of perception; but is the thing perceived
always a mere smell, in the ordinary accept-
ation of the word, an effluvium such as our
own senses understand it? I have some rea-
son to doubt this. Let us set the matter
forth.

I have had the good fortune on several oc-
casions to accompany a Dog who was a great
expert at his trade. Certainly he was nothing
to look at, this artist whom I was so anxi-
ous to see at work: just a Dog, placid and de-
liberate in his ways, ugly, unkempt; the sort
of Dog that you would never admit to your
fireside. Talent and poverty often go hand
in hand.

302

1

The Sense of Smell

His master, a celebrated rabassier^ In .1,
village, convinced that / hJ " ^^^

stealing his secrets .nH ^ "° '"^""^'°" ^^
competition, aCedlr: '^''- "?'"^^ "P '"
expeditions,'a favour which h^idn^'^''
grant. The worthv J. "°^ °^^e"

not an aDnrenf- r/> K.,* ^ i '^ ^ ^^s

mad. dr5r,7a^s^"::;f j:r,ro?^

of thf cJrS Tur;""'""' '"^ «'°^

bread .shi re:a'rd atr'ef h";"^ ^ "" "'

cated extracted wi h'„ f :„"^t„ ° J"' L"''"
Its commerLal value I„ '™"''''"g about
master's experlerce t„ ; ? '"' "'* '^e

'he dog fromTsoL 1 """'■ ""'' '^'^"'
*■ " " *P°' "here practice told him

-For some account of F-.I.r^'^ i
of h.s district, cf. The iJ oVl?''']-,^' "^ ^he fun^i
Fabre. translated by Alexand r T*'- ^' ^' ''^ J- Henri
chap, xvii.-rranj Jor5 ^o"^ ^ '""'*'''* ^^ ^^attos:

303

P'l I

"^-K.

:* i

I

The Life of the Caterpillar

that nothing saleable was to be found, for,
in drawing up my botanical lists, I preferred
wretched and unmarketable products to the
choicest morsels, though these of course were
welcomed when they appeared.

Thus conducted, the underground bota-
nizing was very fruitful. With his perspica-
cious nose, the Dog made me gather indif-
ferently the large and the small, the fresh an*^
the putrid, the scented and the unscented, the
fragrant and the stinking. I wp* imazed at
my collection, which comprised .ne greater
part of the hypogean fungi in my neighbour-
hood.

What a variety of structure and above all
of odour, the primary quality in this question
of scent ! There are some that have nothing
more noticeable than a vague fungous musti-
ness, which is more or less evident in all.
Some smell of turnips, of rotten cabbage;
some are fetid enough to fill the collector's
house with their stench. The real truffle
alone possesses the aroma dear to the epi-
cure.

If smell, as we understand it, is the Dog's
only guide, how does he manage to find his
way through all these incongruous odours?

304

The Sense of Smell

-n,o„ .„ ,he diff-e.*; speTsT TnlhT
2,L " "'"""^'^ -barrassing quesdon

roonfr't?;:"!"^";; '° "'^ °^*„ary „,ush-
nounc d thefr cl n^ ' " ''" '"^■'^'''''^. =■"

ing.he.j;^er f;;L™"No^"^^''-
points where the ordlnan, f '^ '^''P'
certainly most pUo S Toir^".""
by scornfully, with not a sniff '^ 1 """"

X.l'-i: s itf tr ?- V »-

which our olfarfor,, ^ ' ^"^ ^^"se m

^ .«..

i"''

■ .. iM

::?'!r?-r;r?

'■'H.

^^-i..

The Life of the Caterpillar

the domain of smell have its secret emana-
tions, unknown to our senses but perceptible
to a differently constructed organ of smell?

If the scent of the Dog leaves us perplexed
to this extent, that it is impossible for us to
say exactly or even to suspect what it per-
ceives, it at least tells us plainly that we
should be greatly mistaken to compare every-
thing by human standards. The world of
sensations is far larger than the limits of our
sensibility admit. What a nu.n jer of facts
in the working of the forces of nature escape
us for want of organs delicate enough to per-
ceive them !

The unknown, that inexhaustible field
which the future will cultivate, holds harvests
in store for us beside which our present
knowledge is but a pitiful gleaning. Under
the sickle of science sheaves will one day fall
whose grain to-day would seem a senseless
paradox. Scientific illusions? Not so, if you
please, but undeniable and positive realities,
afllirmed by the animal world, which in cert-
ain respects has a great advantage over the
world of man.

In spite of his long professional practice,
in spite of the aroma of the tuber which he

306

V ,# ,- »

The Sense of Smell
l!r'''"^'^ u' '''''"'''' '^'•^""ot guess the

whose scent pries into the secretes o h sot
Well, these secrets are known to differenHn
sects even better than to our two h lpe7s In'
order to discover the tuber nn u^ u ^ •
family of grubs is to be fed Th ""^"^ '^'""

scent of exceptional pVtctioV'^' ^""" ^
Long age, from truffles dug im sDoilf .n^

teemin^T uith vermin and phcecHn^h
.tjon in a glass jar with a l^^of 'resh^nT

I obtained first a small red Beetle rJ,,/ f '

.he latter finds her truffle on the surface
of the ground, at the foot of a wall or h"T

307

f',

%i

M» -

if

i

nt'

;,»!

i

The Life of the Caterpillar

limbs, which the moving of a grain of sand
would warp; her wings, which, if extended,
would block her way through a gorge; her
dress of stiff silk, militating against a smooth
passage: these are all against her. The Sa-
promyzon is obliged to lay her eggs on the
surface of the soil, but she must do so at the
very spot beneath which the truffle lies, for
the tiny grubs would die if they had to roam
at random until they came upon their proven-
der, which is always sparsely distributed.

The truffle-hunting Fly is therefore in-
formed by her sense of smell of the spots fa-
vourable to her maternal plans; she possesses
the scent of the rahasster Dog, indeed pro-
bably a better one, for she knows things by
nature, having never been taught, whereas
her rival has only received an artificial educa-
tion.

It would be interesting to follow the ba-
promy/.on's manoeuvres, but the idea strikes
me as impracticable. The insect is rare, flies
away quickly and "s soon out of sight. To
observe it closely, to watch it at work would
involve a great loss of time and a degree of
assiduity of which 1 do not feel capable. An-
other discoverer of underground fungi shall

jo8

■

The Sense of Smell

official tide is BoWocZ:,Xus M^Tf
rubbing the tin f^( .Ve uT ' ^^^^ls. By
pri^- r • . P ^ '^^ abdomen acainst fh^

-.her co„es ho^e'wi.h'th ^otd" '-^^h';
r„ 7"" ' 8""^"' ho" on his head

a^;n-T"" '"'^- '™'" "•« o?t

ins°t1o7?'' ""'?™°f . I " fi« took ,hc

-;:ra^nU;t;hut:%s°s""f"''"'

wn ch are most appreciated by its mtmme,\

tn r. R„ik ■ ;, ''' ''"' shame Dune

'takehf„rrV ?[^"' What on earth did

the ,r„a7 f "'™'- He wants not exactly
the truffle of our banquets, but its equivalent

■■One of the Dung-beetles r< tl t ^
Of ihe Insect: cl^.^^^^'rans^L^^'^^ot '"' ""^^^

309

I'?'

-i i

m 'mm

W'

hi

"^

f '^;

The Life of the Caterpillar

This characteristic was not displayed to mc
without patient iincstij^ation on my part. At
the southern foot of the Serignan hills, not
far from the village, stands a thicket of mari-
time pines, alternating with rows of cypress-
trees. Here, at the season of AH Samts, af-
ter the autumnal rains, the mushrooms
abound that frequent the Conifer;e, in par-
ticular the delicious milk-mushroom, which
turns green at any part that is bruised and
sheds tears of blood when you break it.' In
the mild days of autumn this is the favourite
walk of my household, being far enough to
exercise young legs and near enough not to

tire them. . ,

They find everything there : old Magpies
nests, formed of bundles of twigs; Jays
squabbling with one another, after filling their
crops with acorns on the oaks hard by; Rab-
bits suddenly starting out of a rosemary-bush,
showing their little white upturned scuts;
Geotrupes' hoarding away food for the win-
ter and heaping up their rubbish on the

iCf. The Lift of the Fly: chap, jivnl— Translator's
Note.'

»Cf. The Life and Love of the Insect: chap, ix.—
Translator's Note.

310

^

.V/.T*",;-,, ,! I

The Sense of Smell

threshold of the hiirrr»u \ i .u

nels en.<v u. h„\ , ."' ^•^^> f" ^hjr ,nt„ tun-

lunch ff^^ ,' '^T'^y- '■•"^' ^he delicious
lunch off an apple to il,c sotnul of the Foli-

les, tor the children t s a re-il n-.r-, r

cssons. I h^. groHn-ups als„ l.avo their share
of enjoyment. As far as 1 an, concerned J
have for many year., been watching tw in

M«r„j /y/>/;a-H.<,' whose male carries on hi,
corselet three spikes pointing in front of him

feisL, oecause or his armmir tx.k.'^u i

-spared with the thr^re^of trs'^l^th:
ivlacedoman phalanx.

He is a robust fellow, who cares nothing
whe e .er'th"- '^\'^"'"^^ *' cold sen,,*^

he leave ht ""*"•'"■""' '^ "-'""^ '"'l^'er
ne leaves his house 'iscreetly, at niLrhtfnH

^nd gathers, ,n the lmmediate'nei«hZrhood

311

'Iw

'i i

i t

The Life of the Caterpillar

of his burrow, a few Sheep-tlroppings, ancient,
olive-shaped remains dried by the summer
sun. He heaps them in a stack at the bottom
of his larder, shuts the door and eats. When
the provisions are all crumbed and drained
of their niggardly juices, he climbs back to
the surface and renews his stores. Thus does
he spend the winter, never resting from his
work, except when the weather is too severe.
The second object of my observations in
the pine-wood is the Bolboceras. His bur-
rows, distributed here and there, among those
of the Minotaur, are easily distinguished.
The Phalangist's are surmounted by a bulky
mound the materials of which are heaped mto
a cylinder as long as one's finger Each of
these rolls Is a loud of rubbish pus'ued outside
bv the digger, thrusting with his back from
below. The orifice moreover is closed when-
ever the Beetle is at home, either enlarging
the shaft or peacefully enjoying his possess-
ions.

The Bolboceras' lodging Is open and sur-
rounded merely by a padding of sand. Its
depth Is slight, nine Inches, hardly more. It
goes straight down in very loose soil. It is
easily Inspected, therefore, If we take care first

312

,-'a?5"'*;.-

The Sense of Snidl
to dig a trench in front of it. which will enable
sl.ce by sl.ce, w.th the blade of a knife Th;

to bro^'" ^^^"" 1^ ^"" length 'fromTo;
nf\ :J" ' r^^'^^y'^n^Jrical shape. ^

Uften the violated dwelling-house i. emotv

els wheri Th^'R t'' *'"^ ^one to settlt
cisewnere. The Bolboceras. s a nomad a

n.ght-v-alker. who leaves his home wiJh;ut

IT' r^ .""'^ ^^^"'^« ^ "^- onl Some
n.es also the .nsect is found at the bottom of
the p,t. at one time a male, at another a f^
male, but never the two at a time. The sexes"
both equally zealous in digging burrow,
work separately not togethef ^C'lIZ^
'n tact, a family residence, containing the
nursery of the young; it is a temporarTabode
dug by each occupant for his own comfort '
Sometimes we find nothing there but the
well-smker, surprised during his work of ex
cavation; sometimes, lastlyiand the ca L s"
raceT w^ h""?'^ '""^'^ °^ ^^^ ^^p"--

clnth •! ^'f .'''■ P'^^'y consumed. He

om '' i7"-J-.!y. refuses to be par"d

trom ,t. It ,s h>s booty, his fortune, his

313

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The Life of the Caterpillar

worldly gooils. Scattered crumbs tell us th.it
we have caught him feasting.

Let us take his prize away from him. W c
shall sec a sort of irregular, rugged purse,
closed on every side and varying in si/e be-
tween a pea and a cherry. Outside it is rcd-
ilish, rough with little warts; inside it is
smooth and white. The spores, which are
ovoid and diaphanous, arc containcil, in rows
of eight, in long satchels. By these charac-
teristics we recogni/.e an underground cryp-
togamous product, nearly related to the trut-
Hes and known to botanists as Hydmuyslis

arcnar'ta, Tl i..

This throws a light upon the habits of the
Bolboceras and upon the reason why his bur-
rows are so frequent-ly '-'^newed. In the calm
of the twilight, the little gadabout takes to
the fields, chirruping softly as he goes, cheer-
ing himself with song. He explores the soil,
questions it as to its contents, just as the Dog
does when hunting for truffles. 1 lis sense ot
smell warns him when the coveted morsel is
underneath, covered by a few inches of sand.
Certain of the exact spot where the thing lies,
he digs straight down and never fails to
reach it. As long as the provisions last, he

314

Tiie Sense of Smell

Joes not go „m ajrain. Blissfully he feed, it

he hottcn, of the well, hcccJIess\,f the ,o

left open or hardly barred

When no more food remains, he moves

ookmg for another loaf, which will be ame
the excuse for a fresh burrow, to be abm
doned m its turn I'^rU f
renn-.^n^c I i ^^" ^""«"^ consumed

represents a new house, which is a n.cre re-

Rectory, a traveller's refreshmcnt-roo.n Thus
c the autunw, and sprin,.. the seasons o he
' ; norysfs, spent in the pleasures of h
tab c, from one home to the next

1 o study the r,hassi,r insect more ch.sely
" ';•>' y^^" house, I should need a little st rj
of .ts favourite fare. It would be waste of

tnat 1 cm hope to strike it with -ny trowel
vv-thout a guide. The truffle-hunterTeeds h

of a new kind. I reveal my secret, which can
only raise a smile from my ori^ina in^ructor
.n underground botany, if he should eve hear
of my singular form of competition

Ihe subterranean fungi occur only at cert-
am points, often in groups. Now the I Z

315

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The Life of the Caterpillar

has been this way; with his delicate scent he
has recognized the site as good, for the bur-
rows are numerous hereabouts. We will
therefore dig near the holes. The clue is ac-
curate. In a few hours, thanks to the tracks
left by the Bolboceras, I possess a handful of
hydnocystes. It is the first time that I have
gathered this particular fungus. Let us now
catch the insect. That presents no difficult-
ies : we have only to dig up the burrows.

I make my experiments the same evening,
filling a large earthen pan with fresh, sifted
sand. With a stick as thick :'s my finger, I
make six vertical tunnels in the sand, two
decimetres^ deep and placed at a suitable dis-
tance apart. A hydnocystis is lowered to the
bottom of each; and I insert a fine straw, to
show me the exact position later. Lastly, I
fill up the six cavities with caked sand. When
this surface has been carefully smoothed, so
that the level is everywhere the same, except
for the six straws, landmarks that mean no-
thing to the Bolboceras, I let loose my cap-
tives, covering them with a wire-gauze cage.
There are eight of then-

At first there is nothing to see save the in-

'7.8 inches.— Translator's Note.

316

The Sense of Smell

evi .bk i,i,e„;n.ss due to the incidents of
thtr ,-.hu,„.,t,.,., transport and confinel"

It ,h! IT'^V^l'"^ "P "'^ "■'''. burrow risht
at the edge of the enclosure. Night falls an,
things grow calmer. Two hours bt,r
'o take a last look at then, Thre:> L^ll
buried under a thin layer of sand Th f

tht-^rf ^:rtf' t^ ''"''-^^-'^^

where h^ ungi^leVxtro "■'"'' I'" ■"=

"-whasitsw^di'L^rorer^'''''^'"''

inis IS the moment to see whaf ;» f,
Penmg underground I remove Th ^^P"
thodicalJy in vertical slices A t^i^?'"^ ""';
--.owisaBolho-ast^^^

^^-cpd ^tr?rrL:;t tt

same At one brief, nocturnal spell of work

as 1 left It when I smoothed it down. The

317

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The Life of the Caterpillar

insect could not have made straight.?r for the
coveted object had it been guided by sight;
it always Jigs at the foot of i.e straws, my
sign-posts. The Dog, nosing the ground for
truffles, hardly achieves this degree of pre-
cision.

Has the hydnocystis then a very pungent
smell, able to give such positive information
to its consumer's scent? Not at all. 1 o our
nostrils it is a neutral object, devoid of any
appreciable olfactory character. A tiny peb-
ble taken out of the ground would impress us
just as much with its faint aroma of fresh
earth. As a revealer of underground fungous
products, the Bolboceras here rivals the Dog.
He would even rise superior to the Dog, were
he able to generalize. But he is a rigorous
specialist: he knows only the hydnocystis. No-
thing else, so far as 1 am aware, tempts him

to dig.^ , , , .,

Both of them search the subsoil very
closely, at the level of the ground; and the
object which they seek is not far down. Were
they farther away, neither the Dog nor the in-

» Since writing the above lines I have found him
eating one of the true Tuberacex, Tuber Requientt, Tul..
the size of a c)xttvy.— Author's Note.

3i8

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'l^jj^SMi

The Sense of Smell

sect would notice effluvia so subtle, not even
the smell of a truffle. To make an impression
^ g''eat distance, pow d odours are
needed, capable of perccpu.,, by our olfac-
tory sense. Then the exploiters of the odor-
ous thmg come hastening up on all sides from
arar.

When, for the purpose of my studies, I
require msects that cH.sect corpses, I expose
a dead Mole m the sun, in a distant corner of
the enclosure. As so.v, as the animal swells,
distended by the gases of putrefaction, and
the skm begins to turn green and the fur
to tall from it, up come numbers of Silphs^
and Dermestes,-' Xecrophori^^ and other Bury-
ing-beetles, of whom one would find not a
specimen in the garden, or even in the
nt urhood, w ithout this bait.

.ney have been informed by their sense
ot smell at a great distance all around,
whereas I myself can avoid the stench by ta-
king a hw steps back. Compared with their
scent, mine is contemptible; but still, in their

^^Carrion-beetles prov^r.-Traushfor's Note
-Bacon-bcctles.— Translator's Note.
^Burying-beetles proper.— Translator's Njte.

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"^he Life of the Caterpillar

case as well as mine, there is really here what
our language calls a smell.

1 can do better still with the flower of the
dragon arum {.Jnnn dracunculus) , so re-
markable for its shape and for its unequalled
stench. Imagine a wide, lanceolate blade, o
a clarety purple, half a yard long and rolled
below into an ovoid pouch the size of a hen s
egg. Through the cpening of this wallet
rises a central column springmg from the bot-
tom, a long, bright-green club, encircled at its
base by two bracelets, one of ovaries, the
other of stamens. Such, briefly described, is
the flower, or rather the inflorescence, of the

dragon arum. , . , ^ i . u

For two days it exhales a frightful stench
of carrion, worse than the proximity of a
dead Dog would yield. During the hottest
part of the day, with a wind blowing, it is
loathsome, unbearable. Let us brave the in-
fected atmosphere and go up to it; we shaU
behold a curious sight.

Informed by the foul odour, which spreads
far and wide, various insects come flying
along, such insects as make sausage-meat of
small corpses— Toads, Adders, Lizards,
Hedgehogs, Moles, Field-mice— which the

320

The Sense of Smell
husbandman hits with his spade and flines

V ^ '"^"^ ?"•■?'£. looks like a strin

of meat gone bad; they caper about 1^

fr"?e^^rr'''{-^^^^"^^^

ove they roll down the slope aiid ar,-
mallowed up in the purse. Afte \ f"
hours of bright sunshL, the rl'e^tad/":

l-ct us look inside, through the n-.rrow
opening. No elsewhere could you sec 1'^!
"owd It is a mad whirl of backs and bel
I.es, of wmg-cases and legs, s.varn,ing ol „
over and over, amid the snap of inf r ° ked

seething and bubbhng without end. It is a

dimr't'n^Th'' ^'''' '"^''"^'■"S ^'•""^ ^he mass,
iTrl , T"'"^^ ^y "leans of the

central pole or the wilk nf «■»,« i
VV;n <-K« . r . °^ ^"^ enclosure.

,.nVx7 't' ™'^ '-^"J "I'-^k^-^ their es-

elasm''^^'^'^'^"''"^^-^'-»^-ko^^^

he wh rM r"'' ^'7' '^'y ^^"-^P back into

he wh,r^oc, ,n a fresh bout of intoxica-

t'on. The bait ,s irresistible. Not one of

331

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The Life of the Caterpillar

them will quit the assembly until the evening,
or perhaps next morning, when the heady
fumes have evaporated. Then the mass be-
comes disentangled; and the insects extricate
themselves from one another's embraces and
slowly, as it were regretfully, leave the place
and fly away. At the bottom of this devil s
purse remains a heap of dead and dying, ot
severed limbs and disjointed wing-cases the
inevitable result of the frenzied orgy, boon
Wood-lice, Earwigs and Ants will arrive and
devour the deceased.

What were they doing there? Were they
the prisoners of the flower? Had it con-
verted itself into a trap which allowed them
to enter, but prevented them from escaping,
by means of a fence of converging hairs.
No, they were not prisoners; they had ful
liberty to go away, as is shown by the hnal
exodus, which is effected without impedi-
ment. Deceived by a false odour, were they
doing their best to instal their eggs, as they
would have done under a corpse? ^ot that
either There is no trace of an attempt at
egg-laying in the dragon's purse. They came,
endced by the smell of a dead body, their su-
preme delight; they were drunk with corpse;

322

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The Sense of Smell

I irl'^n" '*" 'T'''''"'''' '^"'"'^ '•' ■■" it' height
l.try to count the number of the arrivals I

■mo a dask. Absolutely tipsv though thcv
which nisb7't\""P^ ''"™8 ">^ «-•»'

mo, f Thrcit A'''". *= Y""'' "'
«r^r« V , ""^'"g then shows that there

The throng consists entirely of two hmi

::'y?:zT" ""' sapnni,. Uth r,!™"

o account. Here is a complete list of the vis

rZlLr^'' fl°-«r, with the numb r "
representat.ves of each species: Dermesles

A- ^ It \ ^^'•\^^-' i6o;.S. tnaculctiis, Ross
4' »>. detenus, Illk; rr- ^ -. • ^^'^^^•'

/<^r, LAIR., 2. Total: 406.

^.;A .pecie. of .„,all carnivorous Beetles.-r..^/....,

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Another detail deserves attention lust as
much as this enormous figure ; and that is the
complete absence of a number of other genc-ro
which are as passionately fond of small
corpses as are the Dermestcs and Sapnni.
My charnel-houses of Moles never fail to be
visited by the Silph;c and Nccrophori: Silplia
sittuata, Fabk.; .S. rirrosa, I.iN.: ^S. obsaira,
hm.; Necrophoriis visti^^alor, HicRSCil. Ihc
reek of the dragon arum leaves them all in-
different. None of them is represented in the
ten flowers which 1 examine.

Nor are any Diptera, those other devotees
of corruption. Several Hies, some grey or
bluey, others a metallic green, come up, it is
true, settle on the edge of the flower and even
find their way into the fetid wallet; but they
are almost immediately undeceived and Hy
away. Only the Dermestes and Sapnni stay

behind. Why?

My friend Bull, as decent a Dog as ever
lived, had this among many other eccentrici-
ties: if he found in the dust of the road the
dried up corpse of a Mole flattened under tl.'
heels of the passers-by, mummified by the
heat of the sun, he would revel in rolling hun-
self over it from the tip of his nose to the end

324

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The Sense of Smell

of his tail; he uould rub himself in it over
and over again, shaken with nervous spasms
turnmg first on one side, then on the other'
It was his sachet of musk, his Hask of eau-dc-
C-oIo^rn-. When scented to his Hking, he
would get up, shake himself and trot off,
pleased as Punch with his pomade. I et us
not abuse him and, above all, let us not dis-
cuss the matter. There are tastes of all kinds
in this world.

Why should not some of the insects that
dote on the smell of the dead have similar
habits? Dermestes and Saprini come to the
dragon arum; all day long they swarm in
hrongs, although free to go away; many of
them die m the riot of the orgy, h Is no
rich provender that keeps them, for the flower
gives them nothing to eat; it is not a question
of laying eggs, for they take good care not

ir" V. '"' ^'^^' '" '^'-^^ famine-stricken
spot. What are they doing here, the frenzied
ones? Apparently intoxicating themselves

Tf (f ?""'' -""'^ "' ^"" ^''^ o" the carcass
01 a Mole.

And this intoxication of smell attracts them
irom every part around, from very far per-
haps, one cannot tell. Even so the Necro-

325

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The Lite of the Caterpillar

phori, in quest of an establishment for their
young, hasten from the fields to my putrefy-
ing iMoles. Both are informed by a potent
smell, which offemls our nostrils sixty yards
away, but which travels ahead and ueli^^hts
them at distances where our own power of
scent ceases.

The hydnocystis, the Bolboceras' treat, has
none of these violent emanations, capable of
being diffused throuyrh space; it is devoid of
smell, at least to us. The insect that hunts tor
it does not come from a distance; it inhabits
the ve.-y places where the cryptogam lies.
However faint the effluv'a of the under-
ground morsel, the prying epicure, equipped
for the purpose, has every facility for jicr-
ceiving them: he operates close by, on the
surface of the soil. The Dog's ease is the
same: he goes along searching, with hi: e
to the ground. Then, too, the real trufRe, the
essential object of his quest, possesses a most
pronounced odour.

But what are we to say of the Great Pea-
cock and the Banded Monk, making their
way to the female born in captivity? They
hasten from the ends of the horizon. What
do they perceive at that distance ? Is it really

326

'•T«'-:;W2

^Wlki.

The Sense of Smell

an odour as our physiology uncicrstands the
word? I cannot bring myself to believe it

1 he Dog smells the truffle by sniffing the
earth, quite close to the tuber; he finds his
master at great distances by consulting the
scent of h.s footprints. But is he able to dis-
cover the taiffle hundreds of yards away,
miles away? Can he join his master in the
complete absence of a trail? Certainly not.
i^ or all his fineness of scent, the Dog is in-
capable of such a feat, which is performed,
however by the Moth, who is put off neither
by distance nor by the lack of any traces out
of doors of the female hatched on my table
it IS a recogni/.ed fact that smell, ordinary
smell the smell that affects our nostrils, con-
sists of molecules emanating from the scented
body. J he odorous matter dissolves and is
diffused throughout the air by communicating
to the air its aroma, even as sugar dissolves
and is diffused in water by communicating to
the water its sweetness. Smell and taste
touch each other at some ooints; in both cases
there is a contact between the material parti-
cles that give the impression and the sensitive
papilla; that receive it.

Nothing can be simpler or clearer than that
327

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The Lite of the Caterpillar

the clraRon arum elaborates an intensely
stronK essence with which the air is imprcK-
nated and infected all around. 'I'hus the Der-
mestes and Saprini, those passionate lovers ot
carrion smells, are informed by molecular dif-
fusion, in the same way, the putrid load
gives out and disseminates the stinking atoms
that are the Necrophorus' delij^ht.

But what is materially emitted by the fe-
male Bombyx or (.rcat Peacock? Nothing,
according to our sense of smell. And this
nothing is supposed, when the males congre-
gate, to saturate an immense circle, several
miles in radius, with its molecules! \\ hat
the horrible stench of the dragon arum is un-
able to do the absence of odour is believed to
accomplish! However divisible matter may
be, the mind refuses to accept such conclu-
sions. It would be tantamount to reddening
a lake with an atom of carmine, to filling im-
mensity with nothing. .
Another argument. When my study is
saturated beforehand with pungent ooours
which ought to overcome and destroy the
most delicate effluvia, the male Moths arrive
without the least sign of embarrassment.
A loud noise kills the faint note and prc-
.v8

The Sense of Smell

vents It from hclnjr fuarj; a hri^I.t liuht
eclipses a fccMc Kicani. These are waves <.f
the same nature. Hut the n.ar „f thunder
cannot cause the least jet of Ji^ht to pale; nor
can the da/./Iipp ^dory of the sun stIHe the
least sound. Bein^ of different natures, liuht
and sounii do not influence each other.

The experiment with the laveridcr-oil,
naphthahne and the rest would therefore seem
to prove that odour proceeils from ^wo
sources. For emission suhstitute undulation-
and the problem of the Cireat Peacock is ex-
plained. Without losing any of its substance
a lummous point shakes the ether with its
vibrations and fills a circle of indefinite width
Avith light. I his must almost express the
vvorking of the mother Bombyx' tell-tale dis-
charge. It does not emit molecules: it vi-
brates; it sets in motion waves capable of
spreading to distances incompatible with a
real diffusion of matter.

In its entirety, smell would thus seem to
have two domains: that of the particles dis-
solved in the air and that of the ethereal
waves. The first alone is known to us It
belongs also to the insect. It is this which
informs the Saprinus of the dragon arum's

329

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The Life of the Caterpillar

fetidity and the Silpha and Necrophorus of
the stench of the Mole. . • %.

The second, which is far superior in its
range through space, escapes us altogether,
because we lack the necessary sensory equip-
ment The Great Peacock and the Banded
Monk know it at the time of the nuptial re-
joicings. And many others must share it in
various degrees, according to the exigencies of

their mode of life. ci,«„u

Like light, odour has its X-rays. Should
science one day, instructed by the insect, en-
dow us with a radiograph of smells, this arti-
ficial nose will open out to us a world ot
marvels.

li

iri

330

CHAPTER XIV

THE CABBAGE-CATERPILLAR

npHE cabhape of our modern kltchen-
-■■ gardens is a scini-artificlal plant, the pro-
duce of our agricultural ingenuity quite as
much as of the niggardly gifts of nature.
Spontaneous vegetation supplied us with the
long-stalked, scanty-leaved, ill-smelling wild-
mg, as found, according to the botanists, on
the ocean cliffs. He had need of a rare in-
spiration who first showed faith in this rustic
clown and proposed to improve it in his gar-
den-patch.

Progressing by infinitcstimal degrees, cul-
ture wrought miracles. It began by persua-
dmg the wild cabbage to discard its wretched
leaves, beaten by the sea-winds, and to replace
them by others, ample and fleshy and close-
fitting. The gentle cabbage submitted with-
out protest. It deprived itself of the joys of
light by arranging its leaves in a large, com-
pact head, white and tender. In our day,
among the successors of those first tiny hearts,
are some that, by virtue of their massive bulk,

331

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The Life of the Caterpillar

have earned the glorious name of cjwn
qumtnl, as who should say, a hundredweigh
of cabbage. They are real monuments of

green stuff. , . ,

Later, man thought of obtaming a gene-
rous dish with the thousand little sprays of the
inflorescence. The cabbage consented. Under
the cover of the central leaves, it gorged with
food its sheaves of blossom, its flower-stalks,
its branches and worked the lot into a fleshy
conglomeration. This is the cauliflower, the

broccoli.

Differently entreated, the plant, economi-
zing in the centre of its shoot, set a whole
family of closs-wrapped cabbages ladder-wise
on a tall stem. A multitude of dwarf kaf-
buds took the pl?.ce of the colossal head. 1 his
is the Brussels sprout.

Next comes the turn of the stump, an un-
profitable, almost wooden thing, which seemed
never to have any other purpose than to act
as a support for the plant. But the tricks
of gardeners are capable of everything, so
much so that the stalk yields to the grower s
suggestions and becomes fleshy and swells
into an ellipse similar to the turnip, of which
it possesses all the merits of corpulence,

332

The Cabbage-caterpillar

flavour and delicacy; only the strange product
serves as a base for a few sparse leaves, the
ast protests of a real stem that refuses to
lose Its attributes entirely. This is tF jle
rape.

If the stem allows itself to be al-
lured, why not the root? It does in
fact, yield to the blandishments of agri-
culture: it dilates its pivot into a flat
turnip, which half emerges from the
ground. This Is the rutabaga, or swede,
the turnip-cabbage of our northern dis-
tricts.

Incomparably docile under our nursing, the
cabbage has given its all for our nourishment
and that of our cattle: its leaves, its flowers.
Its buds, Its stalk, its root; all that it now
wants IS to combine the ornamental with the
useful, to smarten itself, to adorn our flower-
beds and cut a good figure on a drawing-room
table. It has done this to perfection, not with
Its flowers, which, in their modesty, continue
intractible, hut with its curly and variegated
leaves which have the undulating grace of
Ustrich-feathers and the rich colouring of a
mixed bouquet. None who beholds it in this
magnificence will recognize the near relation

333

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The Life of the Caterpillar

of the vulgar "greens" that form the basis of
our cabbage-soup.

The cabbage, first in order of date in our
kitchen-gardens, was held in high esteem by
classic antiquity, next after the bean and, later,
the pea; but it goes much farther back, so far
indeed that no memories of its acquisition re-
main. History pays but little attention to
these details: it celebrates the battle-fields
whereon we meet our death, it scorns to speak
of the ploughed fields whereby we thrive ; it
knows the names of the kings' bastards, it
cannot tell us the origin of wheat. That is
the way of human folly.

This silence respecting the precious plants
that serve as food is most regrettable. The
cabbage in particular, the venerable cabbage,
that denizen of the most ancient garden-
plots, would have had extremely interesting
things to teach us. It is a treasure in itself,
but a treasure twice exploited, first by man
and next by the caterpillar of the Pieris, the
common Large White Butterfly whom we all
know (Pieris brassic<e, LiN.). This cater-
pillar feeds indiscriminately on the leaves of
all varieties of cabbage, however dissimilar
in appearance: he nibbles with the same ap-

334

The Cabbage-caterpillar

petite red cabbage and broccoli, curly greens
and savoy, swedes and turnip-tops, in 'short
all that our ingenuity, lavish of time and pa-
tience, has been able to obtain from the ori-
ginal plant since the most dis nt ages

But what did the caterpillar eat before our
cabbages supplied him with copious pro-

for the .^^"""/^^ '^' ^'^^'^ ^'^ -^ -ait
lor the advent of man and his horticultural

works in order to take part in the joys of life.
She lived without us and would have con-
tmued to live without us. A Butterfly's exist-
ence IS not subject to ours, but rightfully in-
dependent of our aid.

Before the white-heart, the cauliflower, the

caterpillar certakly did not lack food: he
browsed the wild cabbage of the cliffs, the
parent of all the latter-day wealth; but, a; this
plant IS n -^ Jely distributed and is, in any
case, limited to .ertain maritime regions, the
w fare of the Butterfly, whether on plain or
hill, demanded a more luxuriant and more
common plant for pasturage. This plant was
apparently one of the Crucifer.e, more or less
seasoned with sulphuretted essence, like the
cabbages. Let us experiment on these lines.

335

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The Life of the Caterpillar

1 rear the Picris' caterpillars from the egg
upwards on the wall-rocket {Diphiaxts temn-
folia, DKC), which imbibes strong sp.ces
along the edge of the paths and at the foot of
the walls. Penned in a large, wire-gauze bell-
cage, they accept this provender without de-
mur; they nibble it with the same appetite as
if it were cabbage; and they end by producing
chrysalids and Butterflies. The change of fare
causes not the least trouble.

I am equally successful with other crucifers
of a less marked flavour: white mustard
(Sinapis incana, LiN.), dyer's woad (Isatts
\Loria, Lin.), wild radish (Rapham.s
raphanistrum, LiN.), whitlow peppenvort
ilepidhm draba, L^^'')' ^edge-mustard
\sisymbrium offuinale, Scop.). On the othe
hand, the leaves of the lettuce, the bean, the
pea, the corn-salad are obstinately refused.
Let us be content with what we have seen:
the fare has been sufficiently varied to show
us that the Cabbage-caterpillar feeds exclu-
sively on a large number of crucifers, perhaps

even on all. i • ..u «„

As these experiments are made in the en-
closure of a bell-cage, one might imagine that
captivity impels the flock to feed, in the

336

Wl'MM^

The Cabbage-caterpillar

absence of better things, on what it would
refuse were ,t free to hunt for itself. HavinJ
naught else within their reach, the starvelings
consume any and all Crucifer^, without dis!
mcfon of spec.es. Can things sometimes be
the same m the open fields, where I plav none

Butterfly be settled on other crucifcrs than
the cabbage? I start a quest along the paths
near the gardens and end by finding on wi'd
radish and wh.te mustard colonies as crowded
and^ prosperous as those established on cab-

Now except when the metamorphosis is at
hand, the caterpillar of the White Butterfly
never travels: he does all his growing on the
identical plant whereon he saw the light The
caterpillars observed on the wild radish, as
well as other households, are not, therefore,
emigrants who have come as a matter of fancy
from some cabbage-patch in the neighbour-
hood: they have hatched on the very^eaves
where I find them. Hence I arrive^t th
conclusion : the White Butterfly, who is fifu
m her flight, chooses cabbage first, to dab he
eggs^ upon, and different Crucifers next
varying greatly in appearance.

337

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The Life of the Caterpillar

How does the Plerls manage to know her
way about her botanical domain? We have
seen the Larini,^ those explorers of fleshy
receptacles with an artichoke flavour, astonish
us with their knowledge of the flora of the
thistle tribe; but their lore might, at a pinch
be explained by th. method ^o^^^^.f. ^^.^^.^
moment of housing the egg. With the.
rostrum, they , .epare niches and dig out
basins in the receptacle exploited and con-
sequently they taste the thing a little before
enLsting their eggs to it. On the other
hand, the Butterfly, a nectar-dnnker, makes
not the least enquiry into the savoury qualities
of the leafage; at most, dipping her proboscis
into the flowers, she abstracts a mouthful ot
syrup This means of investigation, more-
over, would be of no use to her, for the plant
selected for the establishing of her family is,
for the most part, not yet in flower. Ihe
mother flits for a moment around the plant;
and that swift examination is enough: the
emission of eggs takes place if the provender
be found suitable.

The botanist, to recognize a cruciter, re-

lA species of Weevils found on thistle-heads.-Tra».i-
lato/s Note.

338

The Cabbage-caterpillar

quires the indications provided by the flower
Here the Pieris surpasses us. She docs not
consult the seed-vessel, to see if it be long or
short, nor yet the petals, four in number and
arranged in a cross, because the plant, as a
rule, IS not in flower; and still she recognizes
off-hand what suits her caterpillars, in spite
of profound differences that would embarrass
any but a botanical expert.

Unless the Pieris has an innate power of
discnmmation to guide her, it is impossible
to understand the great extent of her vegetable
realm. She needs for her family Crucifers
nothing but Cruciferx; and she" knows this
group of plants to perfection. T have been an
enthusiastic botanist for half a century and
more. Nevertheless, to discover If this or
that plant, new to me, is or is not one of the
Crucifers, in the absence of flowers and fruits
I should have more faith in the Butterfly's
statements than in all the learned records of
the books. Where scienc ^. to make

mistakes, instinct is infallible

The Pieris has two famllici. a year: one in
April and May, the oth^r in September. The
cabbage-patches are renewed ir. those same
months. The Butterfly's calendar tallies with

33d

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The Life of the Caterpillar

the gardener's: the moment that provisions
are in sight, consumers are forthcoming for

the feast.

The eggs are a bright c-ange-yellow and
do not lack prettincss when examined under
the lens. They are blunted cones, ranged side
by side on their round base and adorned with
finely-scoreJ longitudinal ridges. They arc
collected in slabs, sometimes on the upper
surface, when the leaf that serves as a sup-
port is spread wide, sometimes on the lower
surface when the leaf is pressed to the next
ones. Their number varies considerably.
Slabs of a couple of hundred are pretty fre-
quent; isolated eggs, or eggs collected m small
groups, are, on the contrary, rare. 1 he
mother's output is affected by the degree of
qui'^tness at the moment of laying.

The outer circumference of the group is
irregularly formed, bi ^.he inside presents a
certain order. The ,gs are here arianged
'n straight rows back.ng against one another
in such a way that each egg finds a double
support in the preceding row. This alter-
nation, without being of an irreproachable
precision, g.ives a fairly stable equilibrium to
the whole.

340

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The Cabbagc-caterpillar

mlVH'^ "'"'^"* 'V ^''' '•^y'"« i^ "" "sy

matter: when examincil too closely, the Pieris
dec-mps at once. The structure of the work
however, reveals the order of the operations
pretty dearly. The ovipositor swings slowly
hrst ,n this direction, then in that, hy turns-
and a new egg is l„dged in each space be-'
tween two adjoining eggs in the previous row

lln!.r?'.°^ '^' °f '"^^'"" determines the
length of the row, which is longer or shorter
according to the layer's fancy.

The hatching takes place in about a week.
It IS almost simultaneous for the whole mass-
as soon as one caterpillar comes out of its eirg'
the others come out also, as though the natal
impulse were communicated from one to the
other. In the same way, in the nest of the
Fraying Mantis, a warning seems to be
spread abroad, arousing every one of the
popu ation It Is a wave propagated In all
directions from the point first struck.

1 he egg does not open by means of a dehis-
cence simiar to that of the vegetable-pods
whose seeds have attained maturity; it b the
new-born grub itself that contrives an exit-
way by gnawing a hole In its enclosure. In
this manner, it obtains near the top of the

.141

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'Hit

i

The Life of the Caterpillar

cone a symmetrical dormer-window, dean-
pdj;ed, with no joins nor uncvcnncss of any
, ind, showing that this part of the wall
'.as hcen nibbled away and swallowed. But
for ^his breach, which is just widi cnoufih for
the de'iver.incr, the egg remains intact, stand-
; , • ^, , :)n its base. It is now that the lens
. A able to take in its elegant structure.
\ '.-] sees is a bag made of ultra-tinc gold-
i-skin, translucent, stiff and white, re-
tamnig the complete form of the original
egg. A score of streaked and knotted lines
run from the top to the base. It is the wiz-
ard's pointed cap, the mitre with the grooves
carved into jewelled chaplets. All said,
the Cabbage-caterpillar's birth-casket is an ex-
quisite work nf art.

The hatching of the lot is finished in a
couple of hours and the swarming family
musters on the layer of swaddling-clothes,
still in the same position. For a long time,
before descending to the fostering leaf, it
lingers on this kind of hot-bed, is even verv
busy there. Busy with what? It is browsing
a strange kind of grass, the handsome mitres
that remain standing on end. Slowly and
methodically, from top to base, the new-born

34^

The Cabbage-caterpillar

grubs nibble the wallets wh.

■ncc they have just

emerged. By to-morrow, nothing is left of
these but n pattern of round dots, the bases
of the vanished sncks.

As his lirst mouth fuls, therefore, the Cab-
bage-caterpillar eats the membranous wrapper
of his egg. This is a regulation diet, for I
have never seen one of the little urubs allow
itself to be tempted by the adjacent green
stuff before finishing the ritual repast where.it
skin bottles furnish forth the feast. It is the
first time that I have seen a larva make a me;il
of the sack in which it was born. Of what
use can this singular fare be to the building
caterpillar? I suspect as follows: the leaves of
the cabbage are waxed and slippery surfaces
and nearly always slant considerably. lo
graze on them without risking a fall, which
would be fatal in earliest cfiildhood, is hanlly
possible unless with moorings that afford a
steady support. What is needed is hits of silk
stretched along the road as fast as progress is
made, something for the lej.^s to grip, some-
thing to provide a good anchorage even u hen
the grub is upside down. T\e silk-tubes,
where those moorings are manufactured, must
be very scantily supplied in a tiny, new-born

343

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The Life of the Caterpillar

animal; and it Is expedient that they be filled
without delay with the aid of a special form ot
nourishment. Then what shall the nature of
the first food be? Vegetable matter, slow to
elaborate and niggardly in its yield, does not
fulfil the desired conditions at all well, tor
time presses and we must trust ourselves
safely to the slippery leaf. An animal diet
would be preferable: it is easier to digest and
undergoes chemical changes in a shorter time.
The wrapper of the egg is of a horny nature,
as silk itself is. It will not take long tc trans-
form the one into the other. The grub chere-
fore tackles the remains of its egg and turns
it into silk to carry with it on its first journeys.
If my surmise is well-founded, there is
reason to believe that, with a view to speedily
filling the silk-glands to which they ook to
supply them with ropes, other caterpillars be-
ginning their existence on smooth and steeply-
slanting leaves also take as their first mouth-
ful the membranous sack which is all that re-
mains of the egg. r u- .u i c
The whole of the platform of b;rth-sacks
which was the first camping-ground of the
White Butterfly's family is razed to the
ground; naught remains but the round marks

344

The Cabbage-caterpillar

of the individual pieces that composed it The
structure of piles has disappeared ; the prints
ett by the piles remain. The little caterpil-
lars are now on the level of the leaf which
shall henceforth feed them. Ihey are a pale
orange-yellow, with a sprinkling of white
bristles The head is a shiny black and re-
markably powerful; it already gives signs of
the coming gluttony. The little animal
mea.M-es scarcely two millimetres' in length.
The troop begins its steadying-work as soon
as It comes into contact with its pasturage the
green cabbage-leaf. Here, there, in its im-
mediate neighbourhood, each grub emits from
Its spinning-glands short cables so slender that
it takes an attentive lens to catch a glimpse of
them. 1 IS ,s enough to ensure the equili-
brium of the almost imponderable atom.

The vegetarian meal now begins. The
grub's length promptly increases from two
millimetres to four. Soon, a moult takes place
which alters its costume: its skin becomes
speckled, on a pale-yellow ground, with a
number of black dots intermingled with white
bristles Three or four days of rest are neces-
sary after the fatigue of breaking cover.

*.078 inch.— Translator's Note.

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The Life of the Caterpillar

When this is over, the hunger-fit starts that
will make a ruin of the cabbage within a few
weeks.

What an appetite ! What a stomach, work-
ing continuously day and night! It is a
devouring laboratory, through which the
foodstuffs merely pass, transformed at once.
I serve up to my caged herd a bunch of
leaves picked from among the biggest: two
hours later, nothing remains but the thick
midribs; and even these are attacked when
there is any delay in renewing the victuals.
At this rate, a "hundredweight-cabbage,"
doled out leaf by leaf, would not last my
menagerie a week.

The gluttonous animal, therefore, when it
swarms and multiplies, is a scourge. How
are we to protect our gardens against it? In
the days of Pliny, the great Latin naturalist,
a stake was set up in the middle of the cab-
bage-bed to be preserved; and on this stake
was fixed a Horse's skull bleached in the sun:
a Mare's skull was considered even better.
This sort of bogey was supposed to ward off
the devouring brood.

My confidence in this preservative is but an
indifferent one; my reason for mentioning it

346

The Cabbage-caterpillar

is that it reminds me of a custom still observed
m our own days, at least in my part of the
country. Nothing is so long-lived as absurd-
ity. Tradition has retained, in a simplified

if-'"^ ™^ '^"'"^"^ defensive apparatus of
which Plmy speaks. For the Horse's skull
our people have substituted an eggshell on the
top of a switch stuck among the cabbages It
IS easier to arrange; also, it is quite as useful,
that IS to say, it has no effect whatever.

Everything, even the nonsensical, is capable
of explanation with a little credulity. When
I question the peasants, our neighbours, they
tell me that the effect of the eggshell Is as
simple as can be: the Butterflies, attracted by
the whiteness, come and lav their eggs on It
Broiled by the sun and lacking all nourishment
on that thankless support, the little caterpll-
lars die, and that makes so many fewer.

I insist; I ask them if they have ever seen
slabs of eggs or masses of young caterpillars
on those white shells.

"Never," they reply, with one voice
"Well, then ?"

"It was done In the old days and so we go
on doing it; that's all we know; and that'«
enough for us."

347

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The Life of the Caterpillar

I leave it at that, persuaded that the me-
mory of the Horse's skull used once upon a
time is ineradicable, like all the rustic absurd-
ities implanted by the ages.

We have, when all is said, but one means
of protection, which is to watch and inspect
the cabbage-leaves assiduously and crush the
slabs of eggs between our finger and thumb
and the caterpillars with our feet. Nothing
is so effective as this method, which makes
great demands on one's time and vigilance.
What pains to obtain an unspoilt cab-
bagel And what a debt do we not owe
to those humble scrapers of the soil, those
ragged heroes who provide us with the where-
withal to live!

To eat and digest, to accumulate reserves
whence the Butterfly will issue: that is the
caterpillar's one and only business. The Cab-
bage-caterpillar performs it with insatiable
gluttony. Incessantly it browses, incessantly
digests: the supreme felicity of an animal
which is little more than an intestine. There
is never a distraction, unless it be certain see-
saw movements which are particularly curious
when several caterpillars are grazing side by
side, abreast. Then, at intervals, all the heads

348

The Cabbage-caterpillar

in the row are briskly lifted and as briskly
lowered, time after time, with an automatic
precision worthy of a Prussian drill-ground
Lan It be their method of intimidating an
always possible aggressor? Can it be a
manifestation of gaiety, when the wanton sun
warms their full paunches ? Whether sl.rn of
fear or sign of bliss, this is the only exercise
that the gluttons allow themselves until the
proper degree of plumpness is attained

After a month's grazing, the voracious ap-
petite of my caged herd is assuaged. The
caterpillars climb the trelliswork in every
direction, walk about anyhow, with their fore-
part raised and searching space. Here and
there, as tney pass, the swaying herd put
forth a thread. They wander restlessly,
anxiously to travel afar. The exodus now
prevented by the trellised enclosure I once saw
under excellent conditions. At the advent of
the cold weather, I had placed a few cabbage-
stalks covered with caterpillars, in a small
greenhouse. Those who saw the common
kitchen vegetable -sumptuously lodged under
glass, in the company of the pelargonium and
the Lhmese primrose, were astonished at mv
curious fancy. I let them smile. I had my

349

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The Life of the Caterpillar

plans : I wanted to find out how the family of
the Large White Butterfly behaves when the
cold weather sets in. Things happened just
as I wished. At the end of November, the
caterpillars, having grown to the desired ex-
tent, left the cabbages, one by one, and began
to roam about the walls. None of them fixed
himself there or made preparations for the
transformation. I suspected that they wanted
the choice of a spot in the open air, exposed to
all the rigours of winter. I therefore left
the door of the hothouse open. Soon, the
whole crowd had disappeared.

I found them dispersed all over the neigh-
bouring walls, some thirty yards off. The
thrust of a ledge, the eaves formed by a pro-
jecting bit of mortar served them as a shelter
where the chrysalid moult took place and
where the winter was passed. The Cabbage-
caterpillar possesses a robust constitution, un-
susceptible to torrid heat or icy cold. AH
that he needs for his metamorphosis is an airy
lodging, free from permanent damp.

The inmates of my fold, therefore, move
about for a few days on the trelliswork,
anxious to travel afar in search of a wall.
Finding none and realizing that time presses,

350

"m^A3?

The Cabbage-caterpillar

they resign themselves. Each one, supporting
himself on the trellis, first weaves around him-
self a thin carpet of white silk, which will
form the sustaining layer at the time of the
laborious and delicate work of the nymphosis.
He fixes his rear-end to this base by a silk pad
and his fore-part by a strap that passes under
his shoulders and is fixed on either side to the
carpet. Thus slung from his three fastenings,
he strips himself of his larval apparel and
turns into a chrysalis in the open air, with no
protection save that of the wall, which the
caterpillar would certainly have found had I
not interfered.

Of a surety, he would be short-sighted in-
deed that pictured a world of good things
prepared exclusively for our advantage. The
earth, the great foster-mother, has a generous
breast. At the very moment when nourishing
matter is created, even though it be with our
own zealous aid, she summons to the feast
host upon host of consumers, who are all the
more numerous and enterprising in proportion
as the table is more amply spread. The cherry
of our orchards is excellent eating: a maggot
contends with us for its possession. In vain
do we weigh suns and planets : our supremacy,

351

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I

The Life of the Caterpillar

which fathoms the universe, cannot prevent a
wretched worm from levying its toll on the
delicious fruit. We make ourselves at home
in a cabbage-bed: the sons of the Pieris make
themselves at home there too. Preferring
broccoli to wild radish, they profit where we
have profited; and we have no remedy against
their competition save caterpillar-raids and
egg-crushing, a thankless, tedious and none
too efficacious work.

Every creature has its claims on life. The
Cabbage-caterpillar eagerly puts forth his
own, so much so that the cultivation of the
precious plant would be endangered if others
concerned did not take part in its defence.
These others are the auxiliaries,^ our helpers
from necessity and not from sympathy. The
words friend and foe, auxiliaries and ravagers
are here the mere conventions of a language
not always adapted to render the exact truth.
He is our foe who eats or attacks our crops;
our friend is he who feeds upon our foes.
Everything is reduced to a frenzied contest
of appetites.

iThe author employs this word to denote the insects
that are help;ul, while describing as "ravagers the in-
sects that are hurtful to the farmer's crops.— fi-ans-
lator's Note.

35a

The Cabbage-caterpillar

trickery, of h.ghway robbery, clear out of
that, you, and make room for me: give me
your seat at the banquet! That is the in^x!
orable law m the world of animals and more
or less, alas, in our own world as well'

Now among our entomological auxiliaries,
the smallest m size are the best at their work
One of them is charged with watching over
the cabbages. She is so small, she works so
discreetly that the gardener does not know
her, has not even heard of her. Were he to
see her by accident, flitting around the plant
which she protects, he would take no notice
ot her, would not suspect the service rendered

deseT'' '° "'' ^°''^ '^' ''"y "^'^g^^'^
Scientists call her Microgaster glomeratus.
What exactly was in the mind of the author
KM? ""V^l M.crogaster, which means little
belly ? Did he intend to allude to the insig-
nificance of the abdomen? Not so. How-
ever slight the belly may be, the insect never-
theless possesses one, correctly proportioned
10 the rest of the body, so that the classic de-
nomination, far from giving us any informa-
tion, might mislead us, were we to trust it

353

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The Life of the Caterpillar

wholly. Nomenclature, which changes from
day to day and becomes more and more caco-
phonous, is an unsafe guide. Instead of ask-
ing the animal what its name is, let us begm

by asking: , . , .

"What can you do? What is your busi-
ness?" ... • i.

Well, the Microgaster's busmess is to ex-
ploit the Cabbage-caterpillar, a dearly-defincd
business, admitting of no possible confusion.
Would we behold her works? In the spring,
let us inspect the neighbourhood of the
kitchen-garden. Be our eye never so unob-
servant, we shall notice against the walls or
on the withered grasses at the foot of the
hedges some very small yellow cocoons,
heaped into masses the she of a hazel-nut.
Beside each group lies a Cabbage-caterpillar,
sometimes dying, sometimes dead and always
presenting a most tattered appearance. 1 hese
cocoons are the work of the Microgaster s
family, hatched or on the point of hatching
into the perfect stage; the caterpillar is the
dish whereon that family has fed during its
larval state. The epithet glomeratus, which
accompanies the name of Microgaster, sug-
gests this conglomeration of cocoons. Let us

354

The Cabbage-caterpillar

collect the clusters as they are, without seeklne
to separate them, an operation which would
demand both patience and dexterity, tor the
cocoons are closely united by the inextricable
tangle of their surface-threads. In Miy a
swarm of plnmks will sally forth, readv to
get to business in the cabbages.

Colloquial language uses the terms Midge
and Cinat to describe the tiny insects which we
often see dancing in a ray of sunlight. There
>s somethmg of everything in those aerial bal-
lets. It IS possible that the persecutrix of the
Cabbage-caterpi'Iar is there, along with many
another; but the name of Midge cannot pro-
perly be applied to her. He who says Midge
says Ply, Dipteron, two-winged insect; and
our friend has four wings, one and all
adapted for flying. By virtue of this charac-
teristic and others no less important, she be-
longs to the order of Hymcnoptera.' No
matter: as our language possesses no more
precise term outside the scientific vocabuKT-y
let us use the expression Midge, which pretty
vvell conveys the general idea. Our Mid^e
the Microgaster, is the size of an average

'This order includes the Ichneumon (lies, of whom the
Microgaster is one.— Translator's Sole.

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The Life of the Caterpillar

Gnat. She measures 3 or 4 millimetres.* The
two sexes are equally numerous and wear the
same costume, a black uniform, all but the
legs, which are pale red. In spite of this like-
ness, they are easily distinguished. The male
has an abdomen which is slightly flattened and
moreover curved at the tip; the female, before
the laying, has hers full and perceptibly dis-
tended by its ovular contents. This rapid
sketch of the insect should be enough for
our purpose.

If we wish to know the grub and especially
to inform ourselves of its manner of living,
it is advisable to rear in a cage a numerous
herd of Cabbage-caterpillars. Whereas a
direct search on the cabbages in our garden
would give us but a difficult and uncertain
harvest, by this means we shall daily have as
many as we wish before our eyes.

In the course of June, which is the time
when the caterpillars quit their pastures and
go far afield to settle on some wall or other,
those in my fold, finding nothing better,
climb to the dome of the cage to make their
preparations and to spin a supporting network
for the chrysalid's needs. Among these spin-

*.il7to .156 inch. — Translator's Note.

356

The Cabbage-caterpillar

ncrs we sec somr weaklings working listless!
at their carpet,
deem theni in th

eir carpet. Their appearance makes us

I take a few of them and

c grip of a mortal liisc

open their bell

ics.

usmg a needle by wnv of a scalpel. What
comes out is a bunch .,' green entrails, soaked
in a bright yellow lluid, which is really the
creature's blood, 'i hese tangled intestines
swarm with little, lazy grubs, varying greatlv
in number, from tm or twenty at least to
sometimes haifa-huii.hcd jhcy are the off-
spring of the Micrcgastcr.

What do they reed .11? The lens makes
conscientious enquiries; nowhere dots it man-
age to show me the vermin attacking solid
nourishment, fatty tissues, muscles or other
parts; nowhere do I see them bite, gnaw or
dissect. The following experiment will tell
us more fully: I pour into a watch-glass the
crowds extracted from the hospitable paun-
ches. I flood them with caterpillar's blood
obtained by simple pricks; I place the pre-
paration under a glass bell-jar, in a moist
atmosphere, to prevent evaporation ; I repeat
the nourishing bath by means of fresh bleed-
ings and give them the stimulant which they
would have gained from the living caterpillar.

357

L

m

^'%iS^>-

i *' -"f ''U I

The Life of the Caterpillar

Thanks to these precautions, my charges have
all the appearance of excellent health; they
drink and thrive. But this state of things can-
not last long. Soon ripe for the transform-
ation, my grubs leave the dining-room of the
watch-glass as they would have left the cater-
pillar's belly; they come to the ground to try
and weave their tiny cocoons. They fail in
the attempt and perish. They have missed a
suitable support, :hat is to say, the silky
carpet provided by the dying caterpillar. No
matter: I have seen enough to convince me.
The larvs of the Microgaster do not eat in
the strict sense of the word: they live on
soup; and that soup is the caterpillar's

blood.

Examine the parasites closely and you shall
see that their vliet is bound to be a liquid one.
They are little white grubs, neatly segmented,
with a pointed fore-part splashed with tiny
black marks, as though the atom had been
slaking its thirst in a drop of ink. It moves
its hind-quarters slowly, without shifting its
position. I place it under the microscope.
The mouth is a pore, devoid of any apparatus
for disintegration-work: it has no fangs, no
horny nippers, no mandibles ; its attack is just

358

The Cabbage-caterpillar

a kiss. It does not chew, it sucks, it takes
discreet sips at the moisture all around it.

The fact that it refrains entirely from bi-
ting is confirmed by my autopsy of the stricken
caterpillars. In the patient's belly, notwith-
standing the number of nurselings who hardly
Jcave room for the nurse's entrails, every-
thing is in perfect order; nowhere do we see a
trace of mutilation. Nor does aught on the
outside betray any havoc within. The ex-
ploited caterpillars graze and move about
peacefully, giving no sign of pain. It is im-
possible for me to distinguish them from the
unscathed ones in respect of appetite and un-
troubled digestion.

When the time approaches to weave the
carpet for the support of the chrysalis, an
appearance of emaciation at last points to the
evil that is at their vitals. They spin never-
theless. They are stoics who do not forget
their duty in the hour of death. At last, they
expire, quite softly, not of any wounds, but
of anaemia, even as a lamp goes out when the
oil comes to an end. And it has to be. The
living caterpillar, capable of feeding itself
and forming blood, is a necessity for the wel-
fare of the grubs; it has to last about a

359

ii

T^w

K

1 1. »*• f

m^-

The Life of the Caterpillar

month, until the Microgaster's offspring have
achieved their full growth. The two calen-
dars synchronize in a remarkable way. When
the caterpillar leaves off eating and makes its
preparations for the metamorphosis, the para-
sites are ripe for the exodus. The bottle
dries up when the drinkers cease to need it;
but until that moment it must remain more or
less well-filled, although becoming limper
daily. It is important, therefore, that the
caterpillar's existence be not endangered by
wounds which, even though very tiny, would
stop the working of the blood-fountains.
With this intent, the drainers of the bottle are,
in a manner of speaking, muzzled; they have
by way of a mouth a pore that sucks withe it
bruising.

The dying caterpillar continues to lay the
silk of his carpet with a slow oscillation of the
head. The moment now comes for the para-
sites to emerge. This happens in June and
generally at nightfall. A breach is made on
the ventral surface or else in the sides, never
on the back: one breach only, contrived at a
point of minor resistance, at the junction of
two segments ; for it is bound to be a toilsome
business, in the absence of a set of filing-tools.

360

Ui

The Cabbage-caterpillar

Perhaps the worms take one another's places
at the point attacked and come by turns to
work at it with a kiss.

In one short spell, the whole tribe issues
through this single opening and is soon
wriggling about, perched on the surface of
the caterpillar. The lens cannot perceive the
hole, which closes on the instant. There is
not even a h.-emorrhage : the bottle has been
drained too thoroughly. You must press it
between your fingers to squeeze out a few
drops of moisture and thus discover the spot
or exit.

Around the caterpillar, who is not always
quite dead and who sometimes even goes on
weaving his carpet a moment longer, the ver-
min at once begin to work at their cocoons.
The straw-coloured thread, drawn from the
silk-glands by a backward jerk of the head,
IS first fixed to the white network of the cater-
pillar and then produces adjacent warp-beams,
so that, by mutual entanglements, the in-
dividual works are welded together and form
an agglomeration in which each of the worms
has its own cabin. For the moment, what is
woven is not the real cocoon, but a general
scaffolding which will faciHute the construc-

361

i '

B

11 ^

The Life of the Caterpillar

tion of the separate shells. All these frames
rest upon those adjoining and, mixing up their
threads, become a common edifice wherein
each grub contrives a shelter for itself. Here
at last the real cocoon is spun, a pretty little
piece of closely-woven work.

In my rearing-jars, I obtain as many groups
of those tiny shells as my future experiments
can wish for. Three-fourths of the caterpil-
lars have supplied me with them, so ruthless
has been the toll of the spring births. I lodge
these groups, one by one, in separate glass
tubes, thus forming a collection on which I
can draw at will, while, in view of my ex-
periments, I keep under observation the whole
swarm produced by one caterpillar.

The adult Microgaster appears a fortnight
later, in the middle of June. There are Hfty
in the first tube examined. The riotous mul-
titude is in the full enjoyment of the pairing-
season, for the two sexes always figure among
the guests of any one caterpillar. What
animation! What an orgy of lovel The
carnival of those pigmies bewilders the ob-
server and makes his head swim.

Most of the females, wishful of liberty,
plunge down to the waist between the glass of

362

The Cabbage-caterpillar

the tube and the plug of cotton-wool that
closes the end turned to the light; but the
lower halves remain free and form a circular
gallery in front of which the males hustle one
another, take one another's places and hastily
operate. Each bides his turn, each attends to
his little matters for a few moments and then
makes way for his rivals and goes off to start
again elsewhere. The turbulent wedding lasts
all the morning and begins afresh next day, a
mighty throng of couples embracing, separa-
ting and embracing once more.

There is every reason to believe that, in
gardens, the mated ones, finding themselves in
isolated couples, would keep quieter. Here,
in the tube, things degenerate into a riot be-
cause the assembly is too numerous for the
narrow space.

What is lacking to complete its happiness?
Apparently, a little food, a few sugary mouth-
fuls extracted from the flowers. I serve up
some provisions in the tubes: not drops of
honey, in which the puny creatures would get
stuck, but little strips of paper spread with
that dainty. They come to them, take their
stand on them and refresh themselves. The
fare appears to agree with them. With this

363

v»

■f I

-,-,. ■■' <

The Life of the Caterpillar

diet, renewed as the strips dry up, I can keep
them in very good condition until the end of
my inquisition.

There is another arrangement to be made.
The colonists in my spare tubes are restless
and quick of flight; they will have to be trans-
ferred presently to sundry vessels without my
risking the loss of a good number, or even the
whole lot, a loss which my hands, my forceps
and other means of coercion would be unable
to prevent by checking the nimble movements
of the tiny prisoners. The irresistible attrac-
tion of the sunlight comes to my aid. If I lay
one of my tubes horizontally on the table,
turning one end towards the full light of a
sunny window, the captives at once make for
this brighter end and play about there for a
long while, without seeking to retreat. If I
turn the tube in the opposite direction, the
crowd immediately shift its quarters and col-
lects at the other end. The brilliant sunlight
is its great jo>. With this bait, I can send
it whithersoever I please.

We will therefore place the new receptacle,
jar or test-tube, on the table, pointing the
closed end towards the window. At its mouth,
we open one of the full tubes. No other

364

The Cabbage-caterpillar

precaution is needed : even though the mouth
leaves a large interval free, the swarm hastens
into the lighted chamber. All that remains
to be done is to close the apparatus before
movmg It. The observer is now in control of
the multitude, without appreciable losses, and
IS able to question it at will.
We will begin by asking:
"How do you manage to lodge your germs
inside the caterpillar?"

This question and others of the same
category, which ought to take precedence of
everything else, are generally neglected by the
impaler of insects, who cares more for the
niceties of nomenclature than for glorious
realities. He classifies his subjects, dividing
them into regiments with barbarous labels, a
work which seems to him the highest express-
ion of entomological science. Names, nothing
but names : the rest hardly counts. The per-
secutor of the Pieris used to be called Micro-
gaster, that is to say, little belly : to-day she
IS called Apantales, that is to say, the incom-
plete. What a fine step forward! Wc now
know all about it!

Can our friend at least tell us how "the
little belly" or "the incomplete" gets into the

36s

A

f-

The Life of the Catci pillar

caterpillar? Not a bit of it I A book which,
judging by its recent date, should be the faith-
ful echo of our actual knowledge, informs us
that the Microgaster inserts her eggs direct
into the caterpillar's body. It goes on to say
that the parasitic vermin inhabit the chrysalis,
whence they make their way out by perfora-
ting the stout horny wrapper. Hundreds of
times have I witnessed the exodus of the
grubs ripe fov weaving their cocoons ; and the
exit has always been made through the skin
of the caterpillar and never through the
armour of the chrysalis. The fact that its
mouth is a mere clinging pore, deprived of
any offensive weapon, would even lead me to
believe that the grub is incapable of perfora-
ting the chrysalid's covering.

This proved error makes me doubt the
other proposition, though logical, after all,
and agreeing with the methods followed by
a host of parasites. No matter: my faith in
what I read in print is of the slightest; I
perfer to go straight to facts. Before making
a statement of any kind, I wa.it tu see, what
I call seeing. It is a slower and more labori-
ous process; but it is certainly much safer.
I will not undertake to lie in wait for what
366

-oVtt ;'

The Cabbage-caterpillar

takes place on the cabbages In the garden:
that method is too uncertain and besides does
not lend itself to precise observation. As I
have in hand the necessary materials, to wit,
my collection of tubes swarming with the
parasites newly hatched into the adult form,
I will operate on the little table in my animals'
laboratory. A jar with a capacity of about a
litre* is placed on the table, with the bottom
turned towards the window in the sun. I put
into it a cabbage-leaf covered with caterpil-
lars, sometimes fully developed, sometimes
half-way, sometimes just out of the egg. A
strip of honeyed paper will serve the Micro-
gaster as a dining-room, If the experiment is
destined to take some time. Lastly, by the
method of transfer which I described above,
I send the inmates of one of my tubes into
the apparatus. Once the jar is closed, there
is nothing left to do but to let things take
their course and to keep an assiduous watch,
for days and weeks, if need be. Nothing
worth remarking can escape me.

The caterpillars graze placidly, heedless of
their terrible attendants. If some giddy-pates
In the turbulent swarm pass over the caterpil-
*About ij^ pints, or .22 gaUou.— Translator's Note.

3^

!iii

1

'^.

f^

The Life of the Catet pillar

lars' spines, these draw up their fore-part with
a jerk and as suddenly lower it again; md
that is all : the intruders forthwith dcoump.
Nor do the latter seem to contemplate any
harm : they refresh themselves on the honey-
smeared strip, rhcy come and go tumultuously.
Their short flights may land them, now in
one place, now in another, on the browsing
herd, but they pay no attention to it. What
we see is casual meetings, not deliberate en-
counters. „ . f -n

In vain I change the flock of caterpillars
and vary their age ; in vain I change the squad
of parasites: in vain I follow events in the
jar for long hours, morning and evening, both
in a dim light and in the full glare of the sun:
I succeed in seeing nothing, absolutely no-
thing, on the parasite's side, that resembles
an attack. No matter what the ill-informed
authors say— ill-informed because they had
not the patience to see for themselves— the
conclusion at which I arrive is positive: tn
inject the germs, the Microgaster never at-
tacks the caterpillars.

The invasion, therefore, is necessarily ef-
fected through the ^utterfly's eggs them-
selves, as experiment will prove. My broad

368

'j^m

The Cabbage-caterpilbr

jar would tell against the inspection of the
troop, kept at too great a distance hy the glass
enclosure ; and I therefore select a tube an inch
wide, i place in this a shred of cabbage-leaf,
bearing a slab of eggs, as laid by the Butter-
fly. I next introduce the inmates of one of
my spare vessels. A strip of paper smeared
with honey accompanies the new arrivals.

This happens early in July. Soon, the
females are there, fussing about, sometimes
to the extent of blackening the whole slab of
yellow eggs. They inspect the treasure, flut-
ter their wings and brusti their hind-legs
against each other, a sign of keen satisfaction.
They sound the heap, probe the interstices
with their antennae and tap the individual
eggs with fheir palpi; then, this one here, that
o e there, they quickly apply the tip of their
abdomen to the egg selected. Each time, we
see a slender, horny prickle darting from the
ventral surface, close to the end. Fhis is the
instrument that deposits the germ under the
film of the egg; it is the inoculation-needle.
The operation is performed calmly and me-
thodically, even when several mothers are
working at one and the same time. Where
one has been, a second goes, followed by a

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The Life of the Caterpillar

third, a fourth and others yet, nor am I able
definitely to see the end of the visits paid to
the same egg. Each time, the needle enters
and inserts a germ.

It is impossible, in such a crowd, for the eye
to follow the successive mothers who hasten
to lay in each ; but there is one quite prac-
ticable method by which we can estimate
the number of germs introduced into a single
egg, which is, later, to open the ravaged
caterpillars and count the worms which they
contain. A less repugnant means is to num-
ber the little cocoons heaped up around each
dead caterpillar. The total will tell us how
many germs were injected, some by the same
mother returning several times to the egg
already treated, others by different mothers.
Well, the number of these cocoons varies
greatly. Generally, it fluctuates in the neigh-
bourhood of twenty, but I have come across
as many as sixty-five; and nothing tells me
that this is the extreme limit. What hide-
ous industry for the extermination of a But-
terfly's progeny!

I am fortunate at this moment in having a
highly-cultured visitor, versed in the profun-
dities of philosophic thought. I make way

370

M '

The Cabbage-caterpillar

for him before the apparatus wherein the
Microgaster is at work. For an hour and
more, standing lens in hand, he, in his turn,
looks and sees what I have just seen; he
watches the layers who gt from one egg to the
other, make their choice, draw their slender
lancet and prick what the stream of passers-
by, one after the other, have already pricked.
Thoughtful and a little uneasy, he puts down
his lens at last. Never had he been vouch-
safed so clear a glimpse as here, in my finger-
wide tube, of the masterly brigandage that
runs through all life down to that of the very
smallest.

371

! Si'

'Hi-.,

m

INDEX

Adder, izo

Anisotoma cinnamomea,
307

Ant, fin, 52, 322

Arbutus Caterpillar, 150-
160, 172-173

Arbutus Liparis (see Ar-
butus Caterpillar)

Aristotle, 58

Ass, 73-74

Attacus pavonia minor
(see Lesser Peacock
Moth)

B

Bacon-'beetle (see Der-
mestes)

Banded Monk, 278-299,
326-330

Bat, 248, 301

Bee, si«, 147-148, 162, 183

Beetle (see also the varie-
ties), 20

Bembex, 115

Blackbird, 151

Bolboteras gallicus, 309.
3i2-3«9. 326

bombyx (see Arbutus
Caterpillar, Banded
Monk, Neustrian Bom-
byx, Pine Procession-
ary)

Brown Owl, 250

Brush Caterpillar (see Or-
gyia)

Bull-pup, 257
Buridan, Jean, 73
Burying-beetle (see also

Necrophorus), 319
Butterfly (see also the

varieties), 182, 227

Cabbage-caterpillar, 172,
33J-362, ^65-371:

Caloso ' syiiiophanta, 94,
168

Carrier-pigeon, 301

Carrion-beetle (see Sil-
pha)

Cat, 108

Century Co., 7

Cetonia floritola, 182-183

Chalicodoma (see also
Mason-bee of the
Sheds), 301

Chelonia caja (see Hedge-
hog Caterpillar)

Cicada, 10, 43

Cock, 108

Common Fly (see Fly)

Cricket, 43

Cuckoo, 94, 168

D

Death's-head Moth, 172
Dermestes (see also the
varieties below), 319-

325. 328
Dermestes Frischit, 323
Dermestes pardalis, 323

373

Index

Dermesies undulatus, 323
Dioscoiides Pedanius, 148
Dog, 100, 301, 308, 3«4-
31s, 318, 320, ,2r-327
Donkey (see Ass)
Dor-beetle {see Geotru-

P")
Dung-beetle (see also the

varieties), 309

Earth-worm, 50
Earwig, 322
Eider, 212

Elm Tortoiseshell (see
Great Tortoiseshell
Butterfly)

Fabrc, Paul, the author's
son, 21, 136-138, 247-
248, 275

Field-mouse, 301, 320

Fly, 19s, 324, 355

Geotrupes, 107, 310

Gnat, 355-356

Goldfinch, 185

Grasshopper (see also
Vine Ephippiper), ion

Great Grey Locust, 184

Great Peacock Moth, 41-
42, 172, 181-182, 226,
246-274, 277, 280, 282-
283, 285, 287-289, 298,
326-330

Great Tortoiseshell But-
terfly, 172, 177-181

Green Saw-fly, .S3
Ground-beetle, 50
Guinea-fowl, 108
Guinea-pig, i8o-i8i

H

Heath Fritillary, 172

Hedgehog, 320

Hedgehog Caterpillar, 135-

136, 141. «74
Hen, 108
Hive-bee, 52-53
Honey-bee (see Bee)
Horse, 346-348 , „, ,
Hunting Wasp (see Wasp)

Ichneumon-fly, s^"

J

Jay, 310

Large Cabbage Butterfly,
Large White Butterfly
(see Cabbage-Cater-
pillar)

Larinus, 338

Lesser Peacock Moth, 273-
278

Liparis (see also Arbutus
Caterpillar, L. auri-

fliy)' 1.73
Liparis auriflua, 150
Livery {see Neustrian

Bombyx)
Lizard, 320
Locust (see also Great

Grey Locust), 43«

374

l/«l '/ «-._"l«jJ*- ja>L^.-li.

Index

M

Magpie, 310

Mantisi (see Praying Man-
tis)

Mare, 346

Mason-bee of the Sheds
(see also Chaiico-
doma), 51-53

Mason-wasp, ^m

Miall, Bernard, 7, io«

Micrngaster ghmeratus,
353-37»

Midge, iss-is(

Minotatirus typherus, 311-
312

Mole, 318, 320, 324-326

Moliere, Jean Baptiste
Poquelin, 147

Monic {see Banded Monk)

Montaigne (Michel Ey-
quem de), 220

Moth {see also the varie-
ties), 177, 182, 212

N

Necrophorus {see also N.

vestigator), 319, 324-

326, 328
Necrophorus vestigator,

324
Neustrian Bomby-', 21

Oak Bomb>Tc, Oak Eggar
{see Banded Monk)

Oak Processicary, 135,
168, 173

Orgyia, 137-139, 141

Owl {see Brown Owl)

Patte itendue {see Orgyia)

Phidias, 18

Pieris bras sir a {see Cab-
bage-caterpillar)

P'K. 307

Pine I'.ombyx {see Pine
Processionary)

Pine Processionary, 1-148,
»50, 157. »59, 161-170,
173-176, 179, 181-182,
184, 300

Plato, 20, 56

Pliny the Elder, 346-347

Praying Mantis, 43, 285-
286

Processionarv, Procession-
ary Caterpillar, Pro-
cessionary Moth {see
Oak Processionary,

Pine Processionary)

Psyche {see also the varie-
ties below), 186-244

Psyche comitella, 194-202,
214-216

Psyche febretta, 192, 214

Psyche graminella {see P.
unicolor)

Psyche intermediella {see
P. comitella)

Psyche unicolor, 186-191,
204-216

Puss-moth, 172

Pythagoras, 19

Rabbit, 212, 279, 310.
Rabelais, Franqois, 58

37S

n f

Index

i

ff'"^^''-..

fPfH:

Reaumur, Ren* Antoine
Ferchault de, 9-10, la-
15. a*. 90, 95. lao-ija,

Rodwell, Miss Frances, 8

Saprinus (see also the
varieties below), ]jo-

3.25. 328
Safrtnus anhts, 32J
Sapriiius detersus, 333
Saprinus maculaius, 323
Saprinus semipunctatus,

Saprinus speculifer, 323
Saprinus subnitidus, 323
Sapromyzon, 307-309
Saw-fly (i?^ a//o Green

Saw-fly), sin
Scatophaga scybalaria, 307
Silk-moth ( - Silkworm)
Silkworm, 1/5, i70-i72>

175-176. 181-182, 26^
Silpha (see also the varie-
ties below), 319, 324
Silpha obscura, 324
Silpha rugosa, 324
Silpha sinuata, 324
Snail, 96

Spallanzani, Lazarn, 301
Spanish Copris, 309
Spider, 40
Spurge Hawk-moth, 17a

Teixeira de Mattos, Alex-
ander, 5111, 99n, io7n,
303»

Termite, 53

Tiger-moth, 17a

Toad, 320

Tree-frog, 108

Turkey, 303

V

Vanessa polychloris (see
Great Tortoiseshell
Butterfly)
Vine Ephippiger, 184
Voltaire, Frangois Marie
Arouet de, 17

W

Wasp, sin, 52, i47-«48.

162, 183
White Ant (see Termite)
Wood-louse, 322

i -:

h

i.

int.

M '

376

8.

'I'.r.yR:.*

«^v ir-

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