presented to

Gbe library

of tbe

IHniverslts of Toronto
Bertram 1R. Davia

from tbe books of

the late Xtonel Bavte, 1k.<L

THE GLOW-WORM
AND OTHER BEETLES

BOOKS BY J. HENRI FABRE

THE LIFE OF THE SPIDER

THE LIFE OF THE FLY

THE MASON-BEES

BRAMBLE-BEES AND OTHERS

THE HUNTING WASPS

THE LIFE OF THE CATERPILLAR

THE LIFE OF THE GRASSHOPPER

THE SACRED BEETLE AND OTHERS

THE MASON-WASPS

THE GLOW-WORM AND OTHER
BEETLES

^^^^^^=^7^

THE GLOW-WORM

AND OTHER BEETLES

BY

J. HENRI FABRE

y^a

sgggilfeg^

COPTEIGHT, 1919

By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Inc.

at

PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.

CONTENTS

PAGE

I THE GLOW-WORM .... I

II THE SITARES 28

III THE PRIMARY LARVA OF THE

SITARES 46

IV THE PRIMARY LARVA OF THE OIL-

BEETLES 84

V HYPERMETAMORPHOSIS . . . IO9

VI CEROCOM^, MYLABRES AND ZO-

NITES . ' I44

VII THE CAPRICORN . . . . 1 85

VIII THE PROBLEM OF THE SIREX . 207

IX THE DUNG-BEETLES OF THE PAM-
PAS 235

X INSECT COLOURING . . . . 273

XI THE BURYING-BEETLES : THE

BURIAL 294

XII THE BURYING-BEETLES : EXPERI-
MENTS .... . . 319

Contents

PAGE

XIII THE GIANT SCARITES . . -352

XIV THE SIMULATION OF DEATH . 370
XV SUICIDE OR HYPNOSIS? . . . 390

XVI THE CRIOCERES 41 1

xvil the crioceres (continued) . 428

XVIII THE CLYTHR^ 446

XIX THE CLYTHR^E: THE EGG . . 463

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE

This is the second volume on Beetles in
the complete English edition of Henri Fa-
bre's entomological works. The first is en-
titled The Sacred Beetle and Others; the
second and the third will be known as The
Life of the Weevil and More Beetles respec-
tively.

The Glow-worm, which gives its name to
the present book, did not form part of the
Souvenirs entomologiques as originally pub-
lished. It is one of two essays written spe-
cially, at my request, for translation into
English, towards the close of Henri Fabre's
life; in fact, this and The Ant-lion, a short
essay for children, were the last works that
came from the veteran author's pen. The
Glow-worm appeared first in the Century
Magazine. Of the remaining chapters, sev-
eral have appeared in various periodicals,
notably the English Review and in Land and
Water, the editor and proprietors of which
admirable weekly have shown the most en-
lightened interest in Fabre's work.

Translator's Note

A part of the chapter entitled The Dung-
beetles of the Pampas figures in Messrs.
Adam & Charles Black's volume, The Life
and Love of the Insect (New York: the
Macmillan Co.), translated by myself; and
the chapters on the Capricorn and Burying-
beetles will be found in Mr. T. Fisher Un-
win's volume, The Wonders of Instinct
(New York: the Century Co.), translated
by myself and Mr. Bernard Miall, which also
contains The Glow-worm. These chapters
are included in the present edition by consent
of and arrangement with the publishers
named.

Lastly, Mr. Bernard Miall has earned my
gratitude by the valuable assistance which he
has given me in preparing the translation of
the greater part of this volume.

Alexander Teixeira de Mattos.
Chelsea, 5 September, 19 19.

CHAPTER I

THE GLOW-WORM

T?EW insects in our climes vie in popular
■*■ fame with the Glow-worm, that curious
little animal which, to celebrate the little joys
of life, kindles a beacon at its tail-end. Who
does not know it, at least by name? Who
has not seen it roam amid the grass, like a
spark fallen from the moon at its full?
The Greeks of old called it Aa/t7roupw, mean-
ing, the bright-tailed. Science employs the
same term: it calls the lantern-bearer, Lam-
pyris noctiluca, LIN. In this case, the
common name is inferior to the scientific
phrase, which, when translated, becomes
both expressive and accurate.

In fact, we might easily cavil at the word
" worm." The Lampyris is not a worm at
all, not even in general appearance. He has
six short legs, which he well knows how to
use; he is a gad-about, a trot-about. In the
adult state, the male is correctly garbed in
wing-cases, like the true Beetle that he is.
The female is an ill-favoured thing who

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

knows naught of the delights of flying: all
her life long, she retains the larval shape,
which, for the rest, is similar to that of the
male, who himself is imperfect so long as he
has not achieved the maturity that comes
with pairing-time. Even in this initial stage,
the word " worm " is out of place. We
French have the expression " Naked as a
worm," to point to the lack of any defensive
covering. Now the Lampyris is clothed,
that is to say, he wears an epidermis of some
consistency; moreover, he is rather richly
coloured: his body is dark brown all over, set
off with pale pink on the thorax, especially
on the lower surface. Finally, each segment
is decked at the hinder edge with two spots
of a fairly bright red. A costume like this
was never worn by a worm.

Let us leave this ill-chosen denomination
and ask ourselves what the Lampyris feeds
upon. That master of the art of gastro-
nomy, Brillat-Savarin,1 said :

" Show me what you eat and I will tell
you what you are."

A similar question should be addressed, by
way of a preliminary, to every insect whose
habits we propose to study, for, from the

^nselme Brillat-Savarin (1755-1826), author of La
Psychologic du gout. — Translator's Note.
2

The Glow-Worm

least to the greatest in the zoological pro-
gression, the stomach sways the world; the
data supplied by food are the chief of all the
documents of life. Well, in spite of his in-
nocent appearance, the Lampyris is an eater
of flesh, a hunter of game; and he follows his
calling with rare villainy. His regular prey
is the Snail.

This detail has long been known to en-
tomologists. What is not so well-known,
what is not known at all yet, to judge by what
I have read, is the curious method of attack,
of which I have seen no other instance any-
where.

Before he begins to feast, the Glow-worm
administers an anaesthetic: he chloroforms
his victim, rivalling in the process the won-
ders of our modern surgery, which renders
the patient insensible before operating on
him. The usual game is a small Snail
hardly the size of a cherry, such as, for in-
stance, Helix variabilis, DRAP., who, in the
hot weather, collects in clusters on the stiff
stubble and on other long, dry stalks, by the
roadside, and there remains motionless, in
profound meditation, throughout the scorch-
ing summer days. It is in some such resting-
place as this that I have often been privileged
to light upon the Lampyris banqueting on the

3

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

prey which he had just paralyzed on its
shaky support by his surgical artifices.

But he is familiar with other preserves.
He frequents the edges of the irrigating-
ditches, with their cool soil, their varied
vegetation, a favourite haunt of the mol-
lusc. Here, he treats the game on the
ground; and, under these conditions, it is
easy for me to rear him at home and to fol-
low the operator's performance down to the
smallest detail.

I will try to make the reader a witness of
the strange sight. I place a little grass in a
wide glass jar. In this I install a few Glow-
worms and a provision of Snails of a suit-
able size, neither too large nor too small,
chiefly Helix variabilis. We must be pa-
tient and wait. Above all, we must keep
an assiduous watch, for the desired events
come unexpectedly and do not last long.

Here we are at last. The Glow-worm
for a moment invesigates the prey, which,
according to its habit, is wholly withdrawn
in the shell, except the edge of the mantle,
which projects slightly. Then the hunter's
weapon is drawn, a very simple weapon, but
one that cannot be plainly perceived with-
out the aid of a lens. It consists of two
mandibles bent back powerfully into a hook,
4

The Glow- Worm

very sharp and as thin as a hair. The micro-
scope reveals the presence of a slender
groove running throughout the length. And
that is all.

The insect repeatedly taps the Snail's
mantle with its instrument. It all happens
with such gentleness as to suggest kisses
rather than bites. As children, teasing one
another, we used to talk of " tweaksies " to
express a slight squeeze of the finger-tips,
something more like a tickling than a serious
pinch. Let us use that word. In conver-
sing with animals, language loses nothing by
remaining juvenile. It is the right way for
the simple to understand one another.

The Lampyris doles out his tweaks. He
distributes them methodically, without hurry-
ing, and takes a brief rest after each of
them, as though he wished to ascertain the
effect produced. Their number is not great:
half-a-dozen, at most, to subdue the prey and
deprive it of all power of movement. That
other pinches are administered later, at the
time of eating, seems very likely, but I can-
not say anything for certain, because the
sequel escapes me. The first few, however
— there are never many — are enough to
impart inertia and loss of all feeling to the
mollusc, thanks to the prompt, I might al-
5

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

most say, lightning methods of the Lampyris,
who, beyond a doubt, instils some poison or
other by means of his grooved hooks.

Here is the proof of the sudden efficacity
of those twitches, so mild in appearance :
I take the Snail from the Lampyris, who has
operated on the edge of the mantle some four
or five times. I prick him with a fine needle
in the fore-part, which the animal, shrunk
into its shell, still leaves exposed. There is
no quiver of the wounded tissues, no reaction
against the brutality of the needle. A
corpse itself could not give fewer signs of
life.

Here is something even more conclusive:
chance occasionally gives me Snails attacked
by the Lampyris while they are creeping
along, the foot slowly crawling, the ten-
tacles swollen to their full extent. A few
disordered movements betray a brief excite-
ment on the part of the mollusc and then
everything ceases: the foot no longer slugs;
the front-part loses its graceful swan-neck
curve; the tentacles become limp and give
way under their weight, dangling feebly like
a broken stick. This conditions persists.

Is the Snail really dead? Not at all, for
I am free to resuscitate the seeming corpse.
After two or three days of that singular con-
6

The Glow-Worm

dition which is no longer life and yet not
death, I isolate the patient and, although this
is not really necessary to success, I give him
a douche which will represent the shower
so dear to the able-bodied mollusc. In
about a couple of days, my prisoner, but lately
injured by the Glow-worm's treachery, is re-
stored to his normal state. He revives, in
a manner; he recovers movement and sensi-
bility. He is affected by the stimulus of a
needle ; he shifts his place, crawls, puts out
his tentacles, as though nothing unusual had
occurred. The general torpor, a sort of
deep drunkenness, has vanished outright.
The dead returns to life. What name shall
we give to that form of existence which, for
a time, abolishes the power of movement and
the sense of pain? I can see but one that is
approximately suitable : anaesthesia. The
exploits of a host of Wasps whose flesh-
eating grubs are provided with meat that is
motionless though not dead * have taught us
the skilful art of the paralyzing insect, which
numbs the locomotory nerve-centres with its
venom. We have now a humble little
animal that first produces complete anaes-

1 Cf. The Hunting Wasps, by J. Henri Fabre, translated
by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos : passim. — Translator's
Note.

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

thesia in its patient. Human science did not
in reality invent this art, which is one of the
wonders of our latter-day surgery. Much
earlier, far back in the centuries, the Lampy-
ris and, apparently, others knew it as well.
The animal's knowledge had a long start of
ours; the method alone has changed. Our
operators proceed by making us inhale the
fumes of ether or chloroform; the insect
proceeds by injecting a special virus that
comes from the mandibular fangs in in-
finitesimal doses. Might we not one day be
able to benefit by this hint? What glorious
discoveries the future would have in store
for us, if we understood the beastie's secrets
better !

What does the Lampyris want with
anaesthetical talent against a harmless and
moreover eminently peaceful adversary, who
would never begin the quarrel of his own
accord ? I think I see. We find in Algeria
a Beetle known as Drilus maroccanus, who,
though non-luminous, approaches our Glow-
worm in his organization and especially in
his habits. He too feeds on land molluscs.
His prey is a Cyclostome with a graceful
spiral shell, tight-closed with a stony lid
which is attached to the animal by a powerful
muscle. The lid is a movable door which is
8

The Glow-Worm

quickly shut by the inmate's mere withdrawal
into his house and as easily opened when the
hermit goes forth. With this system of
closing, the abode becomes inviolable; and
the Drilus knows it.

Fixed to the surface of the shell by an
adhesive apparatus whereof the Lampyris
will presently show us the equivalent, he re-
mains on the look-out, waiting, if necessary,
for whole days at a time. At last, the need
of air and food oblige the besieged non-
combatant to show himself; at least, the door
is set slightly ajar. That is enough. The
Drilus is on the spot and strikes his blow.
The door can no longer be closed and the
assailant is henceforth master of the fortress.
Our first impression is that the muscle moving
the lid has been cut with a quick-acting pair
of shears. This idea must be dismissed.
The Drilus is not well enough equipped with
jaws to gnaw through a fleshy mass so
promptly. The operation has to succeed at
once, at the first touch: if not, the animal
attacked would retreat, still in full vigour,
and the siege must be recommenced, as ardu-
ous as ever, exposing the insect to fasts in-
definitely prolonged. Although I have never
come across the Drilus, who is a stranger to
my district, I conjecture a method of attack
9

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

very similar to that of the Glow-worm.
Like our own Snail-eater, the Algerian in-
sect does not cut its victim into small pieces :
it renders it inert, chloroforms it by means
of a few tweaks which are easily distributed,
if the lid but half-opens for a second. That
will do. The besieger thereupon enters and,
in perfect quiet, consumes a prey incapable
of the least muscular effort. That is how
I see things by the unaided light of logic.

Let us now return to the Glow-worm.
When the Snail is on the ground, creeping,
or even shrunk into his shell, the attack never
presents any difficulty. The shell possesses
no lid and leaves the hermit's fore-part to
a great extent exposed. Here, on the edges
of the mantle contracted by the fear of
danger, the mollusc is vulnerable and in-
capable of defence. But it also frequently
happens that the Snail occupies a raised posi-
tion, clinging to the tip of a grass-stalk or
perhaps to the smooth surface of a stone.
This support serves him as a temporary lid;
it wards off the aggression of any churl who
might try to molest the inhabitant of the
cabin, always on the express condition that
no slit show itself anywhere on the protecting
circumference. If, on the other hand, in the
frequent case when the shell does not fit its

10

The Glow-Worm

support quite closely, some point, however
tiny, be left uncovered, this is enough for
the subtle tools of the Lampyris, who just
nibbles at the mollusc and at once plunges
him into that profound immobility which
favours the tranquil proceedings of the con-
sumer.

These proceedings are marked by extreme
prudence. The assailant has to handle his
victim gingerly, without provoking contract-
ions which would make the Snail let go his
support and, at the very least, precipitate
him from the tall stalk whereon he is bliss-
fully slumbering. Now any game falling to
the ground would seem to be so much sheer
loss, for the Glow-worm has no great zeal
for hunting-expeditions : he profits by the dis-
coveries which good luck sends him, without
undertaking assiduous searches. It is es-
sential, therefore, that the equilibrium of a
prize perched on the top of a stalk and only
just held in position by a touch of glue should
be disturbed as little as possible during the
onslaught; it is necessary that the assailant
should go to work with infinite circumspect-
ion and without producing pain, lest any
muscular reaction should provoke a fall and
endanger the prize. As we see, sudden and

profound anaesthesia is an excellent means of
ii

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

enabling the Lampyris to attain his object,
which is to consume his prey in perfect
quiet.

What is his manner of consuming it?
Does he really eat, that is to say, does he
divide his food piecemeal, does he carve it
into minute particles, which are afterwards
ground by a chewing-apparatus? I think
not. I never see a trace of solid nourishment
on my captives' mouths. The Glow-worm
does not eat in the strict sense of the word:
he drinks his fill; he feeds on a thin gruel
into which he transforms his prey by a
method recalling that of the maggot. Like
the flesh-eating grub of the Fly, he too is able
to digest before consuming; he liquefies his
prey before feeding on it.

This is how things happen: a Snail has
been rendered insensible by the Glow-worm.
The operator is nearly always alone, even
when the prize is a large one, like the Com-
mon Snail, Helix aspersa. Soon a number
of guests hasten up — two, three or more —
and, without any quarrel with real proprietor,
all alike fall to. Let us leave them to them-
selves for a couple of days and then turn
the shell, with the opening downwards. The
contents flow out as easily as would soup
from an overturned saucepan. When the
12

The Glow-Worm

sated diners retire from this gruel, only in-
significant leavings remain.

The matter is obvious: by repeated tiny
bites, similar to the tweaks which we saw
distributed at the outset, the flesh of the
mollusc is converted into a gruel on which
the various banqueters nourish themselves
without distinction, each working at the broth
by means of some special pepsine and each
taking his own mouthfuls of it. In conse-
quence of this method, which first converts
the food into a liquid, the Glow-worm's
mouth must be very feebly armed apart from
the two fangs which sting the patient and
inject the anaesthetic poison and, at the same
time, no doubt, the serum capable of turn-
ing the solid flesh into fluid. These two tiny
implements, which can just be examined
through the lens, must, it seems, have some
other object. They are hollow and in this
resemble those of the Ant-lion, which sucks
and drains its capture without having to
divide it; but there is this great difference,
that the Ant-lion leaves copious remnants,
which are afterwards flung outside the fun-
nel-shaped trap dug in the sand, whereas
the Glow-worm, that expert liquefier, leaves
nothing, or next to nothing. With similar
tools, the one simply sucks the blood of its
13

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

prey and the other turns every morsel of his
to account, thanks to a preliminary lique-
faction.

And this is done with exquisite precision,
though the equilibrium is sometimes anything
but steady. My rearing-glasses supply me
with magnificent examples. Crawling up
the sides, the Snails imprisoned in my appa-
ratus sometimes reach the top, which is closed
with a glass pane, and fix themselves to it
by means of a speck of glair. This is a mere
temporary halt, in which the mollusc is
miserly with its adhesive product, and the
merest shake is enough to loosen the shell and
send it to the bottom of the jar.

Now it is not unusual for the Glow-worm
to hoist himself to the top, with the help of a
certain climbing-organ that makes up for his
weak legs. He selects his quarry, makes a
minute inspection of it to find an entrance-
slit, nibbles it a little, renders it insensible
and, without delay, proceeds to prepare the
gruel which he will consume for days on end.

When he leaves the table, the shell is
found to be absolutely empty; and yet this
shell, which was fixed to the glass by a very
faint stickiness, has not come loose, has not
even shifted its position in the smallest
degree : without any protest from the hermit
14

The Glow- Worm

gradually converted into broth, it has been
drained on the very spot at which the first
attack was delivered. These small details
tell us how promptly the anaesthetic bite takes
effect; they teach us how dexterously the
Glow-worm treats his Snail without causing
him to fall from a very slippery vertical sup-
port and without even shaking him on his
slight line of adhesion.

Under these conditions of equilibrium, the
operator's short, clumsy legs are obviously
not enough ; a special accessory apparatus is
needed to defy the danger of slipping and to
seize the unseizable. And this apparatus
the Lampyris possesses. At the hinder end
of the animal we see a white spot which the
lens separates into some dozen short, fleshy
appendages, sometimes gathered into a
cluster, sometimes spread into a rosette.
There is your organ of adhesion and locomo-
tion. If he would fix himself somewhere,
even on a very smooth surface, such as a
grass-stalk, the Glow-worm opens his rosette
and spreads it wide on the support, to which
it adheres by its own stickiness. The same
organ, rising and falling, opening and clo-
sing, does much to assist the act of progress-
ion. In short, the Glow-worm is a new sort
of self-propelled cripple, who decks his hind-
is

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

quarters with a dainty white rose, a kind of
hand with twelve fingers, not jointed, but
moving in every direction: tubular fingers
which do not seize, but stick.

The same organ serves another purpose:
that of a toilet-sponge and brush. At a
moment of rest, after a meal, the Glow-worm
passes and repasses the said brush over his
head, back, sides and hinder-parts, a per-
formance made possible by the flexibility of
his spine. This is done point by point, from
one end of the body to the other, with a
scrupulous persistency that proves the great
interest which he takes in the operation.
What is his object in thus sponging himself,
in dusting and polishing himself so carefully?
It is a question, apparently, of removing a
few atoms of dust or else some traces of
viscidity that remain from the evil contact
with the snail. A wash and brush-up is not
superfluous when one leaves the tub in which
the mollusc has been treated.

If the Glow-worm possessed no other
talent than that of chloroforming his prey
by means of a few tweaks resembling kisses,
he would be unknown to the vulgar herd;
but he also knows how to light himself like
a beacon; he shines, which is an excellent
manner of achieving fame. Let us consider
16

The Glow- Worm

more particularly the female, who, while re-
taining her larval shape, becomes marriage-
able and glows at her best during the hottest
part of summer. The lighting-apparatus
occupies the last three segments of the ab-
domen. On each of the first two, it takes
the form, on the ventral surface, of a wide
belt covering almost the whole of the arch;
on the third, the luminous part is much less
and consists simply of two small crescent-
shaped markings, or rather two spots which
shine through to the back and are visible both
above and below the animal. Belts and
spots emit a glorious white light, delicately
tinged with blue. The general lighting of
the Glow-worm thus comprises two groups:
first, the wide belts of the two segments pre-
ceding the last; secondly, the two spots of
the final segments. The two belts, the ex-
clusive attribute of the marriageable female,
are the part richest in light: to glorify her
wedding, the future mother dons her bright-
est gauds; she lights her two resplendent
scarves. But, before that, from the time of
the hatching, she had only the modest rush-
light of the stern. This efflorescence of light
is the equivalent of the final metamorphosis,
which is usually represented by the gift of
wings and flight. Its brilliance heralds the
17

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

pairing-time. Wings and flight there will
be none : the female retains her humble larval
form, but she kindles her blazing beacon.

The male, on his side, is fully transformed,
changes his shape, acquires wings and wing-
cases; nevertheless, like the female, he pos-
sesses, from the time when he is hatched, the
pale lamp of the end segment. This lumin-
ous aspect of the stern is characteristic of
the entire Glow-worm tribe, independently
of sex and season. It appears upon the bud-
ding grub and continues throughout life un-
changed. And we must not forget to add
that it is visible on the dorsal as well as on
the ventral surface, whereas the two large
belts peculiar to the female shine only under
the abdomen.

My hand is not so steady nor my sight so
good as once they were, but, as far as they
allow me, I consult anatomy for the structure
of the luminous organs. I take a scrap of
the epidermis and manage to separate pretty
neatly half of one of the shining belts. I
place my preparation under the microscope.
On the skin, a sort of white-wash lies spread,
formed of a very fine, granular substance.
This is certainly the light-producing matter.
To examine this white layer more closely is
beyond the power of my weary eyes. Just
iS

The Glow- Worm

beside it is a curious air-tube, whose short
and remarkably wide stem branches suddenly
into a sort of bushy tuft of very delicate rami-
fications. These creep over the luminous
sheet, or even dip into it. That is all.

The luminescence, therefore, is controlled
by the respiratory organs and the work pro-
duced is an oxidization. The white sheet
supplies the oxidizable matter and the thick
air-tube spreading into a tufty bush dis-
tributes the flow of air over it. There re-
mains the question of the substance whereof
this sheet is formed. The first suggestion
was phosphorus, in the chemist's sense of the
word. The Glow-worm has been calcined
and treated with the violent reagents that
bring the simple substances to light; but no
one, so far as I know, has obtained a satis-
facory answer along these lines. Phos-
phorus seems to play no part here, in spite of
the name of phosphorescence which is some-
times bestowed upon the Glow-worm's gleam.
The answer lies elsewhere, no one knows
where.

We are better informed as regards an-
other question. Has the Glow-worm a free
control of the light which he emits? Can
he turn it on or down or put it out as he
pleases? Has he an opaque screen which
19

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

is drawn over the flame at will, or is that
flame always left exposed? There is no
need for any such mechanism: the insect has
something better for its revolving light.

The thick tube supplying the light-pro-
ducing sheet increases the flow of air and
the light is intensified; the same air-tube,
swayed by the animal's will, slackens or even
suspends the passage of air and the light
grows fainter or even goes out. It is, in
short, the mechanism of a lamp which is
regulated by the access of air to the wick.

Excitement can set the attendant air-duct
in motion. We must here distinguish be-
tween two cases: that of the gorgeous
scarves, the exclusive ornament of the female
ripe for matrimony, and that of the modest
fairy-lamp on the last segment, which both
sexes kindle at any age. In the second case,
the extinction caused by a flurry is sudden
and complete, or nearly so. In my noc-
turnal hunts for young Glow-worms, measur-
ing about 5 millimetres long,1 I can plainly
see the glimmer on the blades of grass ; but,
should the least false step disturb a neigh-
bouring twig, the light goes out at once and
the coveted insect becomes invisible. Upon
the full-grown females, lit up with their

1 .195 inch. — Translator's Note.
20

The Glow-Worm

nuptial scarves, even a violent start has but
a slight effect and often none at all.

I fire a gun beside a wire-gauze cage in
which I am rearing my menagerie of females
in the open air. The explosion produces
no result. The illumination continues, as
bright and placid as before. I take a spray
and rain down a slight shower of cold water
upon the flock. Not one of my animals puts
out its light; at the very most, there is a
brief pause in the radiance; and then only
in some cases. I send a puff of smoke from
my pipe into the cage. This time, the pause
is more marked. There are even some ex-
tinctions, but these do not last long. Calm
soon returns and the light is renewed as
brightly as ever. I take some of the captives
in my fingers, turn and return them, tease
them a little. The illumination continues
and is not much diminished, if I do not press
too hard with my thumb. At this period,
with the pairing close at hand, the insect is
in all the fervour of its passionate splendour;
and nothing short of very serious reasons
would make it put out its signals altogether.

All things considered, there is not a doubt
but that the Glow-worm himself manages his
lighting-apparatus, extinguishing and re-
kindling it at will; but there is one point at

21

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

which the voluntary agency of the insect is
without effect. I detach a strip of the
epidermis showing one of the luminescent
sheets and place it in a glass tube, which I
close with a plug of damp wadding, to avoid
too rapid an evaporation. Well, this scrap
of carcass shines away merrily, although not
quite as brilliantly as on the living body.

Life's aid is now superfluous. The oxi-
dizable substance, the luminescent sheet, is
in direct communication with the surrounding
atmosphere; the flow of oxygen through an
air-tube is not necessary; and the luminous
emission continues to take place, in the same
way as when it is produced by the contact of
the air with the real phosphorus of the chem-
ists. Let us add that, in aerated water, the
luminousness continues as brilliant as in the
free air, but that it is extinguished in water
deprived of its air by boiling. No better
proof could be found of what I have already
propounded, namely, that the Glow-worm's
light is the effect of a slow oxidization.

The light is white, calm and soft to the
eyes and suggests a spark dropped by the full
moon. Despite its splendour, it is a very
feeble illuminant. If we move a Glow-worm
along a line of print, in perfect darkness, we
can easily make out the letters, one by one,

22

The Glow-Worm

and even words, when these are not too long;
but nothing more is visible beyond a narrow
zone. A lantern of this kind soon tires the
reader's patience.

Suppose a group of Glow-worms placed
almost touching one another. Each of them
sheds its glimmer, which ought, one would
think, to light up its neighbours by reflexion
and give us a clear view of each individual
specimen. But not at all : the luminous party
is a chaos in which our eyes are unable to
distinguish any definite form at a medium
distance. The collective lights confuse the
link-bearers into one vague whole.

Photography gives us a striking proof of
this. I have a score of females, all at the
height of their splendour, in a wire-gauze
cage in the open air. A tuft of thyme forms
a grove in the centre of their establishment.
When night comes, my captives clamber to
this pinnacle and strive to show off their
luminous charms to the best advantage at
every point of the horizon, thus forming
along the twigs marvellous clusters from
which I expected magnificent effects on the
photographer's plates and paper. My hopes
are disappointed. All that I obtain is white,
shapeless patches, denser here and less dense
there according to the numbers forming the
23

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

group. There is no picture of the Glow-
worms themselves; not a trace either of the
tuft of thyme. For want of satisfactory
light, the glorious firework is represented by
a blurred splash of white on a black ground.

The beacons of the female Glow-worms
are evidently nuptial signals, invitations to
the pairing; but observe that they are lighted
on the lower surface of the abdomen and face
the ground, whereas the summoned males,
whose flights are sudden and uncertain, travel
overhead, in the air, sometimes a great way
up. In its normal position, therefore, the
glittering lure is concealed from the eyes
of those concerned ; it is covered by the thick
bulk of the bride. The lantern ought really
to gleam on the back and not under the belly;
otherwise the light is hidden under a bushel.

The anomaly is corrected in a very in-
genious fashion, for every female has her
little wiles of coquetry. At nightfall, every
evening, my caged captives make for the
tuft of thyme with which I have thoughtfully
furnished the prison and climb to the top of
the upper branches, those most in sight.
Here, instead of keeping quiet, as they did
at the foot of the bush just now, they indulge
in violent exercises, twist the tip of their very
24

The Glow-Worm

flexible abdomen, turn it to one side, turn it
to the other, jerk it in every direction. In
this way, the search-light cannot fail to
gleam, at one moment or another, before the
eyes of every male who goes a-wooing in
the neighbourhood, whether on the ground
or in the air.

It is very like the working of the revolving
mirror used in catching Larks. If station-
ary, the little contrivance would leave the
bird indifferent; turning and breaking up its
light in rapid flashes, it excites it.

While the female Glow-worm has her
tricks for summoning her swains, the male,
on his side, is provided with an optical ap-
paratus suited to catch from afar the least
reflection of the calling-signal. His corse-
let expands into a shield and overlaps his
head considerably in the form of a peaked
cap or eye-shade, the object of which appears
to be to limit the field of vision and concen-
trate the view upon the luminous speck to be
discerned. Under this arch are the two
eyes, which are relatively enormous, exceed-
ingly convex, shaped like a skull-cap and con-
tiguous to the extent of leaving only a narrow
groove for the insertion of the antennae.
This double eye, occupying almost the whole

25

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

face of the insect and contained in the ca-
vern formed by the spreading peak of the
corselet, is a regular Cyclop's eye.

At the moment of the pairing, the illumina-
tion becomes much fainter, is almost extin-
guished; all that remains alight is the humble
fairy-lamp of the last segment. This dis-
creet night-light is enough for the wedding,
while, all around, the host of nocturnal in-
sects, lingering over their respective affairs,
murmur the universal marriage-hymn. The
laying follows very soon. The round, white
eggs are laid, or rather strewn at random,
without the least care on the mother's part,
either on the more or less cool earth or on a
blade of grass. These brilliant ones know
nothing at all of family-affection.

Here is a very singular thing: the Glow-
worm's eggs are luminous even when still
contained in the mother's womb. If I hap-
pen by accident to crush a female big with
germs that have reached maturity, a shiny
streak runs along my fingers, as though I
had broken some vessel filled with a phos-
phorescent fluid. The lens shows me that I
am wrong. The luminosity comes from the
cluster of eggs forced out of the ovary. Be-
sides, as laying-time approaches, the phos-
phorescence of the eggs is already made mani-
26

The Glow-Worm

fest without this clumsy midwifery. A soft
opalescent light shines through the skin of
the belly.

The hatching follows soon after the lay-
ing. The young of either sex have two lit-
tle rush-lights on the last segment. At the
approach of the severe weather, they go
down into the ground, but not very far. In
my rearing-jars, which are supplied with fine
and very loose earth, they descend to a depth
of three or four inches at most. I dig up a
few in mid-winter. I always find them car-
rying their faint stern-light. About the
month of April, they come up again to the
surface, there to continue and complete their
evolution.

From start to finish, the Glow-worm's life
is one great orgy of light. The eggs are
luminous; the grubs likewise. The full-
grown females are magnificent light-houses,
the adult males retain the glimmer which the
grubs already possessed. We can under-
stand the object of the feminine beacon; but
of what use is all the rest of the pyrotechnic
display? To my great regret, I cannot tell.
It is and will be, for many a day to come, per-
haps for all time, the secret of animal physics,
which is deeper than the physics of the books.

27

CHAPTER II

THE SITARES

THE high banks of sandy clay in the
country round about Carpentras are
the favourite haunts of a host of Bees and
Wasps, those lovers of a thoroughly sunny
aspect and of soils that are easy to excavate.
Here, in the month of May, two Antho-
phorae * are especially abundant, gatherers
of honey and, both of them, makers of sub-
terranean cells. One, A. parietina, builds at
the entrance of her dwelling an advanced
fortification, an earthy cylinder, wrought in
open work, like that of the Odynerus,2 and
curved like it, but of the width and length of
a man's finger. When the community is a
populous one, we stand amazed at the rustic
ornamentation formed by all these stalactites
of clay hanging from the facade. The other,

1 Cf. The Mason-bees, by J. Henri Fabre, translated
by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chap. viii. ; and Bram-
ble-bees and Others, by J. Henri Fabre, translated by Alex-
ander Teixeira de Mattos: passim. — Translator's Note.

2 Cf. The Mason-iuasps, by J. Henri Fabre, translated
by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chaps, vi. and x. —
Translator's Note.

28

The Sitares

A. pilipes, who is very much more frequent,
leaves the opening of her corridor bare-.
The chinks between the stones in old walls
and abandoned hovels, the surfaces of ex-
cavations in soft sandstone or marl, are
found suitable for her labours; but the fa-
vourite spots, those to which the greatest num-
ber of swarms resort, are vertical stretches,
exposed to the south, such as are afforded by
the cuttings of deeply sunken roads. Here,
over areas many yards in width, the wall is
drilled with a multitude of holes, which im-
part to the earthy mass the look of some
enormous sponge. These round holes might
be fashioned with an auger, so regular are
they. Each is the entrance to a winding cor-
ridor, which runs to a depth of four to six
inches. The cells are distributed at the far
end. If we would witness the labours of the
industrious Bee, we must repair to her work-
shop during the latter half of May. Then,
but at a respectful distance, if, as novices, we
are afraid of being stung, we may contem-
plate, in all its bewildering activity, the
tumultuous, buzzing swarm, busied with the
building and the provisioning of the cells.

It is most often during the months of
August and September, those happy months
of the summer holidays, that I have visited
29

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

the banks inhabited by the Anthophora. At
this period all is silent near the nests; the
work has long been completed; and numbers
of Spiders' webs line the crevices or plunge
their silken tubes into the Bee's corridors.
Let us not, however, hastily abandon the city
once so populous, so full of life and bustle
and no\7 deserted. A few inches below the
surface, thousands of larvae and nymphs, im-
prisoned in their cells of clay, are resting
until the coming spring. Might not such a
succulent prey as these larvae, paralysed and
incapable of defence, tempt certain parasites
who are industrious enough to attain them?
Here indeed are some Flies clad in a dis-
mal livery, half-black, half-white, a species
of Anthrax {A. sinuata) / flying indolently
from gallery to gallery, doubtless with the
object of laying their eggs there; and here
are others, more numerous, whose mission is
fulfilled and who, having died in harness, are
hanging dry and shrivelled in the Spiders'
webs. Elsewhere the entire surface of a per-
pendicular bank is hung with the dried
corpses of a Beetle (Sitaris humeralis),
slung, like the Flies, in the silken meshes of

1 Cf. The Life of the Fly, by J. Henri Fabre, translated
by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chaps, ii. and iv. —
Translator's Note.

30

The Shares

the Spiders. Among these corpses some
male Sitares circle, busy, amorous, heedless
of death, mating with the first female that
passes within reach, while the fertilized
females thrust their bulky abdomens into the
opening of a gallery and disappear into it
backwards. It is impossible to mistake the
situation: some grave interest attracts to this
spot these two insects, which, within a few
days, make their appearance, mate, lay their
eggs and die at the very doors of the
Anthophora's dwellings.

Let us now give a few blows of the pick
to the surface beneath which the singular in-
cidents already in our mind must be oc-
curring, beneath which similar things oc-
curred last year; perhaps we shall find some
evidence of the parasitism which we sus-
pected. If we search the dwellings of the
Anthophorae during the early days of August,
this is what we see : the cells forming the sup-
erficial layer are not like those situated at a
greater depth. This difference arises from
the fact that the same establishment is ex-
ploited simultaneously by the Anthophora
and by an Osmia (O. tricornis)1 as is proved
by an observation made at the working-

1 Cf. Bramble-bees and Others: passim. — Translator's
Note.

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

period, in May. The Anthophorae are the
actual pioneers, the work of boring the gal-
leries is wholly theirs; and their cells are
situated right at the end. The Osmia profits
by the galleries which have been abandoned
either because of their age, or because of the
completion of the cells occupying the most
distant part; she builds her cells by dividing
these corridors into unequal and inartistic
chambers by means of rude earthen parti-
tions. The Osmia's sole achievement in the
way of masonry is confined to these parti-
tions. This, by the way, is the ordinary
building-method adopted by the various Os-
miae, who content themselves with a chink
between two stones, an empty Snail-shell, or
the dry and hollow stem of some plant,
wherein to build their stacks of cells, at small
expense, by means of light partitions of mor-
tar.

The cells of the Anthophora, with their
faultless geometrical regularity and their per-
fect finish, are works of art, excavated, at a
suitable depth, in the very substance of the
loamy bank, without any manufactured part
save the thick lid that closes the orifice.
Thus protected by the prudent industry of
their mother, well out of reach in their dis-
tant, solid retreats, the Anthophora's larvae
32

The Shares

are devoid of the glandular apparatus de-
signed for secreting silk. They therefore
never spin a cocoon, but lie naked in their
cells, whose inner surface has the polish of
stucco.

In the Osmia's cells, on the other hand,
means of defence are required, for these are
situated in the surface layer of the bank;
they are irregular in form, rough inside and
barely protected, by their thin earthen par-
titions, against external enemies. The Os-
mia's larvae, in fact, contrive to enclose them-
selves in an egg-shaped cocoon, dark brown
in colour and very strong, which preserves
them both from the rough contact of their
shapeless cells and from the mandibles of
voracious parasites, Acari,1 Cleri 2 and An-
threni,3 those manifold enemies whom we
find prowling in the galleries, seeking whom
they may devour. It is by means of this
equipoise between the mother's talents and
the larva's that the Osmia and the Antho-
phora, in their early youth, escape some part

1 Mites and Ticks. — Translator's Note.

2 A genus of Beetles of which certain species (Clerus
aplarius and C. alvearius) pass their preparatory state in
the nests of Bees, where they feed on the grubs. — Trans-
lator's Note.

3 Another genus of Beetles. The grub of A. musa-
orum, the Museum Beetle, is very destructive to insect-
collections. — Translator's Note.

33

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

of the dangers which threaten them. It is
easy therefore, in the bank excavated by these
two Bees, to recognize the property of either
species by the situation and form of the cells
and also by their contents, which consist,
with the Anthophora, of a naked larva and,
with the Osmia, of a larva enclosed in a
cocoon.

On opening a certain number of these co-
coons, we end by discovering some which,
in place of the Osmia's larva, contain each a
curiously shaped nymph. These nymphs, at
the least shock received by their dwelling, in-
dulge in extravagant movements, lashing the
walls with their abdomen till the whole house
shakes and dances. And, even if we leave
the cocoon intact, we are informed of their
presence by a dull rustle heard inside the
silken dwelling the moment after we move it.

The fore-part of this nymph is fashioned
like a sort of boar's-snout armed with six
strong spikes, a multiple ploughshare, emi-
nently adapted for burrowing in the soil. A
double row of hooks surmounts the dorsal
ring of the four front segments of the ab-
domen. These are so many grappling-irons,
with whose assistance the creature is en-
abled to progress in the narrow gallery dug
by the snout. Lastly, a sheaf of sharp points,
34

The Sitares

forms the armour of the hinder-part. If we
examine attentively the surface of the ver-
tical wall which contains the various nests, it
will not be long before we discover nymphs
like those which we have been describing,
with one extremity held in a gallery of their
own diameter, while the fore-part projects
freely into the air. But these nymphs are
reduced to their cast skins, along the back
and head of which runs a long slit through
which the perfect insect has escaped. The
purpose of the nymph's powerful weapons is
thus made manifest: it is the nymph that has
to rend the tough cocoon which imprisons it,
to excavate the tightly-packed soil in which
it is buried, to dig a gallery with its six-
pointed snout and thus to bring to the light
the perfect insect, which apparently is in-
capable of performing these strenuous tasks
for itself.

And in fact these nymphs, taken in their
cocoons, have in a few days' time given me a
feeble Fly (Anthrax sinuata) who is quite in-
capable of piercing the cocoon and still more
of making her exit through a soil which I
cannot easily break up with my pick. Al-
though similar facts abound in insect history,
we always notice them with a lively interest.
They tell us of an incomprehensible power

35

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

which suddenly, at a given moment, irre-
sistibly commands an obscure grub to aban-
don the retreat in which it enjoys security, in
order to make its way through a thousand
difficulties and to reach the light, which would
be fatal to it on any other occasion, but which
is necessary to the perfect insect, which could
not reach it by its own efforts.

But the layer of Osmia-cells has been re-
moved; and the pick now reaches the Antho-
phora's cells. Among these cells are some
which contain larvae and which result from
the labours of last May; others, though of
the same date, are already occupied by the
perfect insect. The precocity of metamor-
phosis varies from one larva to another;
however, a few days' difference of age is
enough to explain these inequalities of de-
velopment. Other cells, as numerous as the
first, contain a parasitical Hymenopteron, a
Melecta (M. armata), likewise in the per-
fect state. Lastly, there are some, indeed
many, which contain a singular egg-shaped
shell, divided into segments with projecting
breathing-pores. This shell is extremely thin
and fragile; it is amber-coloured and so
transparent that one can distinguish quite
plainly, through its sides, an adult Sitaris
(S. humeralis) , who occupies the interior and
36

The Shares

is struggling as though to set herself at
liberty. This explains the presence here, the
pairing and the egg-laying of the Sitares
whom we but now saw roaming, in the com-
pany of the Anthrax-flies, at the entrance to
the galleries of the Anthophoras. The Os-
mia and the Anthophora, the joint owners of
the premises, have each their parasite: the
Anthrax attacks the Osmia and the Sitaris
the Anthophora.

But what is this curious shell in which the
Sitaris is invariably enclosed, a shell unex-
ampled in the Beetle order? Can this be a
case of parasitism in the second degree, that
is, can the Sitaris be living inside the chrysalis
of a first parasite, which itself exists at the
cost of the Anthophora's larva or of its pro-
visions? And, even so, how can this para-
site, or these parasites, obtain access to a cell
which seems to be inviolable, because of the
depth at which it lies, and which, moreover,
does not reveal, to the most careful examina-
tion under the magnifying-glass, any violent
inroad on the enemy's part? These are the
questions that presented themselves to my
mind when for the first time, in 1855, I ob-
served the facts which I have just related.
Three years of assiduous observation enabled
me to add one of its most astonishing chap-
37

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

ters to the story of the formation of insects.

After collecting a fairly large number of
these enigmatical shells containing adult
Sitares, I had the satisfaction of observing,
at leisure, the emergence of the perfect insect
from the shell, the act of pairing and the
laying of the eggs. The shell is easily
broken; a few strokes of the mandibles, dis-
tributed at random, a few kicks are enough
to deliver the perfect insect from its fragile
prison.

In the glass jars in which I kept my Sitares
I saw the pairing follow very closely upon
the first moments of freedom. I even wit-
nessed a fact which shows emphatically how
imperious, in the perfect insect, is the need
to perform, without delay, the act intended
to ensure the preservation of its race. A
female, with her head already cut out of the
shell, is anxiously struggling to release her-
self entirely; a male, who has been free for
a couple of hours, climbs on the shell and,
tugging here and there, with his mandibles,
at the fragile envelope, strives to deliver the
female from her shackles. His efforts are
soon crowned with success; and, though the
female is still three parts swathed in her
swaddling-bands, the coupling takes place
immediately, lasting about a minute. During
38

The Shares

the act, the male remains motionless on the
top of the shell, or on the top of the female
when the latter is entirely free. I do not
know whether, in ordinary circumstances, the
male occasionally thus helps the female to
gain her liberty; to do so he would have to
penetrate into a cell containing a female,
which, after all, is not beyond his powers,
seeing that he has been able to escape from
his own. Still, on the actual site of the cells,
the coupling is generally performed at the
entrance to the galleries of the Anthophorae ;
and then neither of the sexes drags about
with it the least shred of the shell from which
it has emerged.

After mating, the two Sitares proceed to
clean their legs and antennae by drawing
them between their mandibles ; then each goes
his own way. The male cowers in a crevice
of the earthen bank, lingers for two or three
days and perishes. The female also, after
getting rid of her eggs, which she does with-
out delay, dies at the entrance to the corridor
in which the eggs are laid. This is the ori-
gin of all those corpses swinging in the
Spiders' web with which the neighbourhood
of the Anthophora's dwellings is upholstered.

Thus the Sitares in the perfect state live
long enough only to mate and to lay their

39

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

eggs. I have never seen one save upon
the scene of their loves, which is also that
of their death; I have never surprised
one browsing on the plants near at hand, so
that, though they are provided with a
normal digestive apparatus, I have grave
reasons to doubt whether they actually take
any nourishment whatever. What a life is
theirs! A fortnight's feasting in a store-
house of honey; a year of slumber under-
ground; a minute of love rn the sunlight;
then death !

Once fertilized, restlessly the female at
once proceeds to seek a favourable spot
wherein to lay her eggs. It was important
to note where this exact spot is. Does the
female go from cell to cell, confiding an egg
to the succulent flanks of each larva, whether
this larva belong to the Anthophora or to a
parasite of hers, as the mysterious shell
whence the Sitaris emerges would incline one
to believe ? This method of laying the eggs,
one at a time in each cell, would appear to be
essential, if we are to explain the facts al-
ready ascertained. But then why do the cells
usurped by the Sitares retain not the slightest
trace of the forcible entry which is indis-
pensable? And how is it that, in spite of
lengthy investigations during which my per-
40

The Sitares

severance has been kept up by the keenest de-
sire to cast some light upon all these mys-
teries, how is it, I say, that I have never come
across a single specimen of the supposed
parasites to which the shell might be at-
tributed, since this shell appears not to be a
Beetle's? The reader would hardly suspect
how my slight acquaintance with entomology
was unsettled by this inextricable maze of
contradictory facts. But patience 1 We may
yet obtain some light.

Let us begin by observing precisely at
what spot the eggs are laid. A female has
just been fertilized before my eyes; she is
forthwith placed in a large glass jar, into
which I put, at the same time, some clods of
earth containing Anthophora-cells. These
cells are occupied partly by larvae and partly
by nymphs that are still quite white; some
are slightly open and afford a glimpse of
their contents. Lastly, in the inner surface
of the cork which closes the jar I sink a cylin-
drical well, a blind alley, of the same diameter
as the corridors of the Anthophora. In or-
der that the insect, if it so desire, may enter
this artificial corridor, I lay the bottle hori-
zontally.

The female, painfully dragging her big
abdomen, perambulates all the nooks and
41

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

corners of her makeshift dwelling, exploring
them with her palpi, which she passes every-
where. After half an hour of groping and
careful investigation, she ends by selecting
the horizontal gallery dug in the cork. She
thrusts her abdomen into this cavity and,
with her head hanging outside, begins her
laying. Not until thirty-six hours later was
the operation completed; and during this in-
credible lapse of time the patient creature re-
mained absolutely motionless.

The eggs are white, oval and very small.
They measure barely two-thirds of a milli-
metre x in length. They stick together
slightly and are piled in a shapeless heap
which might be likened to a good-sized pinch
of the unripe seeds of some orchid. As for
their number, I will admit that it tried my
patience to no purpose. I do not, however,
believe that I am exaggerating when I esti-
mate it as at least two thousand. Here are
the data on which I base this figure : the lay-
ing, as I have said, lasts thirty-six hours; and
my frequent visits to the female working in
the cavity in the cork convinced me that there
was no perceptible interruption in the suc-
cessive emission of the eggs. Now less than
a minute elapses between the arrival of one

1 .026 inch. — Translator's Note.
42

The Sitares

egg and that of the next; and the number of
these eggs cannot therefore be lower than
the number of minutes contained in thirty-
six hours, or 2160. But the exact number
is of no importance : we need only note that
it is very large, which implies, for the young
larvae issuing from the eggs, very numerous
chances of destruction, since so lavish a sup-
ply of germs is necessary to maintain the
species in the requisite proportions.

Enlightened by these observations and in-
formed of the shape, the number and the
arrangement of the eggs, I searched the gal-
leries of the Anthophorae for those which
the Sitares had laid there and invariably
found them gathered in a heap inside the
galleries, at a distance of an inch or two from
the orifice, which is always open to the outer
world. Thus, contrary to what one was to
some extent entitled to suppose, the eggs are
not laid in the cells of the pioneer Bee ; they
are simply dumped in a heap inside the en-
trance to her dwelling. Nay more, the
mother does not make any protective struc-
ture for them; she takes no pains to shield
them from the rigours of winter; she does not
even attempt, by stopping for a short dis-
tance, as best she can, the entrance-lobby in
which she has laid them, to protect them
43

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

from the thousand enemies that threaten
them ; for, as long as the frosts of winter have
not arrived, these open galleries are trodden
by Spiders, by Acari, by Anthrenus-grubs and
other plunderers, to whom these eggs, or the
young larva? about to emerge from them,
must be a dainty feast. In consequence of
the mother's heedlessness, the number of
those who escape all these voracious hunters
and the inclemencies of the weather must be
curiously small. This perhaps explains why
she is compelled to make up by her fecundity
for her deficient industry.

The hatching occurs a month later, about
the end of September or the beginning of
October. The season being still propitious,
I was led to suppose that the young larvae
must at once make a start and disperse, in
order that each might seek to gain access,
through some imperceptible fissure, to an
Anthophora-cell. This presumption turned
out to be entirely at fault. In the boxes in
which I had placed the eggs laid by my cap-
tives, the young larvae, little black creatures
at most a twenty-fifth of an inch long, did
not move away, provided though they were
with vigorous legs; they remained higgledy*
piggledy with the white skins of the eggs
whence they had emerged.
44

The Shares

In vain I placed within their reach lumps
of earth containing nests of the Anthophora,
open cells, larvae and nymphs of the Bee :
nothing was able to tempt them; they per-
sisted in forming, with the egg-skins, a
powdery heap of speckled black and white.
It was only by drawing the point of a needle
through this pinch of living dust that I was
able to provoke an active wriggling. Apart
from this, all was still. If I forcibly re-
moved a few larvae from the common heap,
they at once hurried back to it, in order to
hide themselves among the rest. Perhaps
they had less reason to fear the cold when
thus collected and sheltered beneath the egg-
skins. Whatever may be the motive that
impels them to remain thus gathered in a
heap, I recognized that none of the means
suggested by my imagination succeeded in
forcing them to abandon the little spongy
mass formed by the skins of the eggs, which
were slightly glued together. Lastly, to as-
sure myself that the larvae, in the free state,
do not disperse after they are hatched, I
went during the winter to Carpentras and in-
spected the banks inhabited by the Antho-
phorae. There, as in my boxes, I found the
larvae piled into heaps, all mixed up with
the skins of the eggs.
45

CHAPTER III

THE PRIMARY LARVA OF THE SITARES

NOTHING new happens before the end
of the following April. I shall profit
by this long period of repose to tell you more
about the young larva, of which I will begin
by giving a description. Its length is a
twenty-fifth of an inch, or a little less. It is
hard as leather, a glossy greenish black, con-
vex above and flat below, long and slender,
with a diameter increasing gradually from
the head to the hinder extremity of the meta-
thorax, after which it rapidly diminishes. Its
head is a trifle longer than it is wide and is
slightly dilated at the base; it is pale-red
near the mouth and darker about the ocelli.
The labrum forms a segment of a circle ;
it is reddish, edged with a small number of
very short, stiff hairs. The mandibles are
powerful, red-brown, curved and sharp;
when at rest they meet without crossing.
The maxillary palpi are rather long, consist-
ing of two cylindrical sections of equal length,
the outer ending in a very short bristle. The
jaws and the lower lip are not sufficiently
46

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

visible to lend themselves to accurate de-
scription.

The antennae consist of two cylindrical
segments, equal in length, not very definitely
divided; these segments are nearly as long as
those of the palpi; the outer is surmounted
by a cirrus whose length is as much as thrice
that of the head and tapers off until it be-
comes invisible under a powerful pocket-lens.
Behind the base of either antennae are two
ocelli, unequal in size and almost touching.

The thoracic segments are of equal length
and increase gradually in width from front
to back. The prothorax is wider than the
head, but is narrower in front than at the
base and is slightly rounded at the sides.
The legs are of medium length and fairly
robust, ending in a long, powerful, sharp and
very mobile claw. On the haunch and thigh
of each leg is a long cirrus, like that of the
antennae, almost as long as the whole limb
and standing at right angles to the plane of
locomotion when the creature moves. There
are a few stiff bristles on the legs.

The abdomen has nine segments, of prac-
tically equal length, but shorter than those of
the thorax and diminishing very rapidly in
width toward the last. Fixed below the
eighth segment, or rather below the strip of
47

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

membrane separating this segment and the
last, we see two spikes, slightly curved, short,
but with strong, sharp, hard points, and
placed one to the right and the other to the
left of the median line. These two ap-
pendages are able, by means of a mechanism
recalling, on a smaller scale, that of the
Snail's horns, to withdraw into themselves,
as a result of the membranous character of
their base. They can also retreat under the
eighth segment, borne, as they are, by the
anal segment, when this last, as it contracts,
withdraws into the eighth. Lastly, the ninth
or anal segment bears on its hinder edge two
long cirri, like those of the legs and the an-
tennae, curving backwards from tip to base.
At the rear of this segment a fleshy nipple
appears, more or less prominent; this is the
anus. I do not know where the stigmata are
placed; they have evaded my investigations,
though these were undertaken with the aid
of the microscope.

When the larva is at rest, the various seg-
ments overlap evenly; and the membranous
intervals, corresponding with the articula-
tions, do not show. But, when the larva
walks, all the articulations, especially those
of the abdominal segments, are distended
and end by occupying almost as much
48

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

space as the horny arches. At the same
time the anal segment emerges from the
sheath formed by the eighth; the anus,
in turn, is stretched into a nipple; and
the two points of the penultimate ring rise,
at first slowly, and then suddenly stand up
with an abrupt motion similar to that of a
spring when released. In the end, these two
points diverge like the horns of a crescent.
Once this complex apparatus is unfolded, the
tiny creature is ready to crawl upon the most
slippery surface.

The last segment and its anal button are
curved at right angles to the axis of the
body; and the anus comes and presses upon
the surface of locomotion, where it ejects a
tiny drop of transparent, treacly fluid, which
glues and holds the little creature firmly in
position, supported on a sort of tripod
formed by the anal button and the two cirri
of the last segment. If we are observing the
animal's manner of locomotion on a strip of
glass, we can hold the strip in a vertical
position, or even turn it upside down, or
shake it lightly, without causing the larva to
become detached and fall, held fast as it is
by the glutinous secretion of the anal button.

If it has to proceed along a surface where
there is no danger of a fall, the microscopic
49

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

creature employs another method. It crooks
its belly and, when the two spikes of the
eighth segment, now fully outspread, have
found a firm support by ploughing, so to
speak, the surface of locomotion, it bears
upon that base and pushes forward by ex-
panding the various abdominal articulations.
This forward movement is also assisted by
the action of the legs, which are far from
remaining inactive. This done, it casts an-
chor with the powerful claws of its feet; the
abdomen contracts; the various segments
draw together; and the anus, pulled forward,
obtains a fresh purchase, with the aid of the
two spikes, before beginning the second of
these curious strides.

During these manoeuvres, the cirri of the
flanks and thighs drag along the supporting
surface and by their length and elasticity ap-
pear fitted only to impede progress. But let
us not be in a hurry to conclude that we have
discovered an inconsistency: the least of
creatures is adapted to the conditions amid
which it has to live; there is reason to be-
lieve that these filaments, far from hamper-
ing the pigmy's progress, must, in normal
circumstances, be of some assistance to it.

Even the little that we have just learnt
shows us that the young Sitaris-larva is not
So

The Primary Larva of the Shares

called upon to move on an ordinary surface.
The spot, whatever it may be like, where this
larva is to live later exposes it to the risk of
many dangerous falls, since, in order to pre-
vent them, it is not only equipped with strong
and extremely mobile talons and a steel-shod
crescent, a sort of ploughshare capable of
biting into the most highly polished substance,
but is further provided with a viscous liquid,
sufficiently tenacious and adhesive to hold it
in position without the help of other appli-
ances. In vain I racked my brains to guess
what the substance might be, so shifting, so
uncertain and so perilous, which the young
Sitares are destined to inhabit; and I disco-
vered nothing to explain the necessity for the
structure which I have described. Convinced
beforehand, by an attentive examination of
this structure, that I should witness some
peculiar habits, I waited with eager impa-
tience for the return of the warm weather,
never doubting that by dint of persevering
observation the mystery would be disclosed
to me next spring. At last this spring, so
fervently desired, arrived ; I brought to bear
all the patience, all the imagination, all the
insight and discernment that I may possess;
but, to my utter shame and still greater re-
gret, the secret escaped me. Oh, how pain-
5i

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

ful are those tortures of indecision, when one
has to postpone till the following year an
investigation which has led to no result!

My observations made during the spring
of 1856, although purely negative, neverthe-
less have an interest of their own, because
they prove the inaccuracy of certain supposi-
tions to which the undeniable parasitism of
the Sitares naturally inclines us. I will there-
fore relate them in a few words. At the end
of April, the young larvae, hitherto motion-
less and concealed in the spongy heap of the
egg-skins, emerge from their immobility,
scatter and run about in all directions through
the boxes and jars in which they have passed
the winter. By their hurried gait and their
indefatigable evolutions we readily guess that
they are seeking something which they lack.
What can this something be, unless it be
food? For remember that these larvae were
hatched at the end of September and that
since then, that is to say, for seven long
months, they have taken no nourishment,
though they have spent this period in the full
enjoyment of their vitality, as I was able to
assure myself all through the winter by irri-
tating them, and not in a state of torpor
similar to that of the hibernating animals.
52

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

From the moment of their hatching they are
doomed, although full of life, to an absolute
abstinence of seven months' duration; and it
is natural to suppose, when we see their pre-
sent excitement, that an imperious hunger sets
them bustling in this fashion.

The desired nourishment could only be the
contents of the cells of the Anthophora, since
we afterwards find the Sitares in these cells.
Now these contents are limited to honey or
larvae. It just happens that I have kept
some Anthophora-cells occupied by larvae or
nymphs. I place a few of these, some open,
some closed, within reach of the young
Sitares, as I had already done directly after
the hatching. I even slip the Sitares into the
cells : I place them on the sides of the larva,
a succulent morsel to all appearances; I do
all sorts of things to tempt their appetite;
and, after exhausting my ingenuity, which
continues fruitless, I remain convinced that
my famished grubs are seeking neither the
larvae nor nymphs of the Anthophora.

Let us now try honey. We must obviously
employ honey prepared by the same species
of Anthophora as that at whose cost the
Sitares live. But this Bee is not very com-
mon in the neighbourhood of Avignon; and
53

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

my engagements at the college * do not allow
me to absent myself for the purpose of
repairing to Carpentras, where she is so
abundant. In hunting for cells provisioned
with honey I thus lose a good part of the
month of May; however, I end by finding
some which are newly sealed and which be-
long to the right Anthophora. I open these
cells with the feverish impatience of a sorely-
tried longing. All goes well: they are half-
full of fluid, dark, nauseating honey, with
the Bee's lately-hatched larva floating on the
surface. This larva is removed ; and taking
a thousand precautions, I lay one or more
Sitares on the surface of the honey. In other
cells I leave the Bee's larva and insert Sitares,
placing them sometimes on the honey and
sometimes on the inner wall of the cell or
simply at the entrance. Lastly, all the cells
thus prepared are put in glass tubes, which
enable me to observe them readily, without
fear of disturbing my famished guests at their
meal.

But what am I saying? Their meal?
There is no meal! The Sitares, placed at
the entrance to a cell, far from seeking to

1 Fabre, as a young man, was a master at Avignon
College. Cf. The Life of the Fly: chaps, xii., xiii., xix.
and xx. — Translator's Note.

54

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

make their way in, leave it and go roaming
about the glass tube ; those which have been
placed on the inner surface of the cells, near
the honey, emerge precipitately, half-caught
in the glue and tripping at every step ; lastly,
those which I thought I had favoured the
most, by placing them on the honey itself,
struggle, become entangled in the sticky mass
and perish in it, suffocated. Never did ex-
periment break down so completely! Lar-
vae, nymphs, cells, honey: I have offered you
them all! Then what do you want, you
fiendish little creatures?

Tired of all these fruitless attempts, I
ended where I ought to have begun: I went
to Carpentras. But it was too late : the
Anthophora had finished her work; and I
did not succeed in seeing anything new.
During the course of the year I learnt from
Leon Dufour,1 to whom I had spoken of the
Sitares, that the tiny creature which he had
found on the Andrenae 2 and described under

ijean Marie Leon Dufour (1780-1865), an army surg-
eon who served with distinction in several campaigns,
and subsequently practised as a doctor in the Landes,
where he attained great eminence as a naturalist.
Fabre often refers to him as the Wizard of the Landes.
Cf. The Life of the Spider, by J. Henri Fabre, translated
by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chap. i. ; and The Life
of the Fly: chap. i. — Translator's Note.
- 2 A genus of Burrowing Bee, the most numerous in
species among the British Bees. — Translator's Note.
55.

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

the generic name of Triungulinus, was
recognized later by Newport 1 as the larva
of a Meloe, or Oil-beetle. Now it so hap-
pened that I had found a few Oil-beetles in
the cells of the same Anthophora that nour-
ishes the Sitares. Could there be a similar-
ity of habits between the two kinds of in-
sects? This idea threw a sudden light for
me upon the subject; but I had plenty of
time in which to mature my plans: I had
another year to wait.

When April came, my Sitaris-larvae began,
as usual, to bestir themselves. The first Bee
to appear, an Osmia, is dropped alive into a
glass jar containing a few of these larvae;
and after a lapse of some fifteen minutes I
inspect them through the pocket-lens. Five
Sitares are embedded in the fleece of the
thorax. It is done, the problem's solved!
The larvae of the Sitares, like those of the
Oil-beetles, cling like grim death to the fleece
of their generous host and make him carry
them into the cell. Ten times over I repeat
the experiment with the various Bees that
come to plunder the lilac flowering outside
my window and in particular with male An-

1 George Newport (i 803-1 854), an English surgeon and
naturalist, president of the Entomological Society from
1844 to 1845 a°d an expert in insect anatomy. — Trans-
tutor's Note.

56

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

thophoras; the result is still the same: the
larvae embed themselves in the hair of the
Bees' thorax. But after so many disappoint-
ments one becomes distrustful and it is better
to go and observe the facts upon the spot;
besides, the Easter holidays fall very con-
veniently and afford me the leisure for my
observations.

I will admit that my heart was beating a
little faster than usual when I found myself
once again standing in front of the perpend-
icular bank in which the Anthophora
nests. What will be the result of the experi-
ment ? Will it once more cover me with con-
fusion? The weather is cold and rainy; not
a Bee shows herself on the few spring flowers
that have come out. Numbers of Anthopho-
rae cower, numbed and motionless, at the en-
trance to the galleries. With the tweezers,
I extract them one by one from their lurking-
places, to examine them under the lens. The
first has Sitaris-larvae on her thorax; so has
the second; the third and fourth likewise;
and so on, as far as I care to pursue the
examination. I change galleries ten times,
twenty times; the result is invariable. Then,
for me, occurred one of the moments which
come to those who, after considering and re-
considering an idea for years and years from
57

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

every point of view, are at last able to cry:
" Eureka ! "

On the days that followed, a serene and
balmy sky enabled the Anthophorae to leave
their retreats and scatter over the country-
side and despoil the flowers. I renewed my
examination on those Anthophorae flying
incessantly from one flower to another,
whether in the neighbourhood of the places
where they were born or at great distances
from these places. Some were without
Sitaris-larvae; others, more numerous, had
two, three, four, five or more among the
hairs of their thorax. At Avignon, where
I have not yet seen Sitaris humeralis, the same
species of Anthophora, observed at almost
the same season, while pillaging the lilac-
blossom, was always free of young Sitaris-
grubs; at Carpentras, on the contrary, where
there is not a single Anthophora-colony with-
out Sitares, nearly three-quarters of the
specimens which I examined carried a few
of these larvae in their fleece.

But, on the other hand, if we look for
these larvae in the entrance-lobbies where
we found them, a few days ago, piled up in
heaps, we no longer see them. Conse-
quently, when the Anthophorae, having
opened their cells, enter the galleries to
58

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

reach the exit and fly away, or else when the
bad weather and the darkness bring them
back there for a time, the young Sitaris-
larvae, kept on the alert in these same gal-
leries by the stimulus of instinct, attach them-
selves to the Bees, wriggling into their fur
and clutching it so firmly that they need not
fear a fall during the long journeys of the
insect which carries them. By thus attaching
themselves to the Anthophora? the young
Sitares evidently intend to get themselves
carried, at the opportune moment, into the
victualled cells.

One might even at first sight believe that
they live for some time on the Anthophora's
body, just as the ordinary parasites, the va-
rious species of Lice, live on the body of the
animal that feeds them. But not at all.
The young Sitares, embedded in the fleece,
at right angles to the Anthophora's body,
head inwards, rump outwards, do not stir
from the point which they have selected, a
point near the Bee's shoulders. We do not
see them wandering from spot to spot, ex-
ploring the Anthophora's body, seeking the
part where the skin is more delicate, as they
would certainly do if they were really de-
riving some nourishment from the juices of
the Bee. On the contrary, they are nearly
59

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

always established on the toughest and hard-
est part of the Bee's body, on the thorax, a
little below the insertion of the wings, or,
more rarely, on the head; and they remain
absolutely motionless, fixed to the same hair,
by means of the mandibles, the feet, the
closed crescent of the eighth segment and,
lastly, the glue of the anal button. If they
chance to be disturbed in this position, they
reluctantly repair to another point of the
thorax, pushing their way through the insect's
fur and in the end fastening on to another
hair, as before.

To confirm my conviction that the young
Sitaris-grubs do not feed on the Anthophora's
body, I have sometimes placed within their
reach, in a glass jar, some Bees that have
long been dead and are completely dried up.
On these dry corpses, fit at most for gnaw-
ing, but certainly containing nothing to suck,
the Sitaris-larvae took up their customary
position and there remained motionless as
on the living insect. They obtain nothing,
therefore, from the Anthophora's body; but
perhaps they nibble her fleece, even as the
Bird-lice nibble the birds' feathers?

To do this, they would require mouth-
parts endowed with a certain strength and, in
particular, horny and sturdy jaws, whereas
60

The Primary Larva of the Shares

their jaws are so fine that a microscopic ex-
amination failed to show them to me. The
larvae, it is true, are provided with powerful
mandibles; but these finely-pointed mandibles,
with their backward curve, though excellent
for tugging at food and tearing it to pieces,
are useless for grinding it or gnawing it.
Lastly, we have a final proof of the passive
condition of the Sitaris-larvae on the body
of the Anthophorae in the fact that the Bees
do not appear to be in any way incommoded
by their presence, since we do not see them
trying to rid themselves of the grubs. Some
Anthophorae which were free from these
grubs and some others which were carrying
five or six upon their bodies were placed
separately in glass jars. When the first dis-
turbance resulting from their captivity was
appeased, I could see nothing peculiar about
those occupied by the young Sitares. And,
if all these arguments were not sufficient, I
might add that a creature which has already
been able to spend seven months without
food and which in a few days' time will pro-
ceed to drink a highly-flavoured fluid would
be guilty of a singular inconsistency if it
were to start nibbling the dry fleece of a Bee.
It therefore seems to me undeniable that the
young Sitares settle on the Anthophora's body
61

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

merely to make her carry them into the cells
which she will soon be building.

But until then the future parasites must
hold tight to the fleece of their hostess,
despite her rapid evolutions among the
flowers, despite her rubbing against the walls
of the galleries when she enters to take shel-
ter and, above all, despite the brushing which
she must often give herself with her feet
to dust herself and keep spick and span.
Kence no doubt the need for that curious
apparatus which no standing or moving upon
ordinary surfaces could explain, as was said
above, when we were wondering what the
shifting, swaying, dangerous body might be
on which the larva would have to establish
itself later. This body is a hair of a Bee
who makes a thousand rapid journeys, now
diving into her narrow galleries, now forcing
her way down the tight throat of a corolla,
and who never rests except to brush herself
with her feet and remove the specks of dust
collected by the down which covers her.

We can now easily understand the use
of the projecting crescent whose two horns,
by closing together, are able to take hold of
a hair more easily than the most delicate
tweezers; we perceive the full value of the
tenacious adhesive provided by the anus to
62

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

save the tiny creature, at the least sign of
danger, from an imminent fall; we realize
lastly the useful function that may be fulfilled
by the elastic cirri of the flanks and legs,
which are an absolute and most embarrassing
superfluity when walking upon a smooth sur-
face, but which, in the present case, penetrate
like so many probes into the thickness of the
Anthophora's down and serve as it were to
anchor the Sitaris-larva in position. The
more we consider this arrangement, which
seems modelled by a blind caprice so long
as the grub drags itself laboriously over a
smooth surface, the more do we marvel at
the means, as effective as they are varied,
which are lavished upon this fragile creature
to help it to preserve its unstable equi-
librium.

Before I describe what becomes of the
Sitaris-grubs on leaving the body of the An-
thophorae, I must not omit to mention one
very remarkable peculiarity. All the Bees
invaded by these grubs that have hitherto
been observed have, without one exception,
been male Anthophorae. Those whom I
drew from their lurking-places were males;
those whom I caught upon the flowers were
males; and, in spite of the most active search,
I failed to find a single female at liberty.
63,

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

The cause of this total absence of females is
easy to understand.

If we remove a few clods from the area
occupied by the nests, we see that, though all
the males have already opened and aban-
doned their cells, the females, on the con-
trary, are still enclosed in theirs, but on the
point of soon taking flight. This appearance
of the males almost a month before the emer-
gence of the females is not peculiar to the
Anthophorae; I have observed it in many
other Bees and particularly in the Three-
horned Osmia (O. tricornis), who inhabits
the same site as the Hairy-footed Antho-
phora {A. pilipes). The males of the Os-
mia make their appearance even before
those of the Anthophora and at so early a
season that the young Sitaris-larvae are per-
haps not yet aroused by the instinctive im-
pulse which urges them to activity. It is
no doubt to their precocious awakening that
the males of the Osmia owe their ability to
traverse with impunity the corridors in
which the young Sitaris-grubs are heaped to-
gether, without having the latter fasten to
their fleece; at least, I cannot otherwise ex-
plain the absence of these larvae from the
backs of the male Osmiae, since, when wc
place them artificially in the presence of these
64

The Primary Larva of the Shares

Bees, they fasten on them as readily as on
the Anthophorae.

The emergence from the common site be-
gun by the male Osmiae is continued by the
male Anthophorae and ends with the almost
simultaneous emergence of the female Os-
miae and Anthophorae. I was easily able
to verify this sequence by observing at my
own place, in the early spring, the dates at
which the cells, collected during the previous
autumn, were broken.

At the moment of their emergence, the
male Anthophorae, passing through the gal-
leries in which the Sitaris-larvae are waiting
on the alert, must pick up a certain number
of them; and those among them who, by
entering empty corridors, escape the enemy
on this first occasion will not evade him for
long, for the rain, the chilly air and the
darkness bring them back to their former
homes, where they take shelter now in one
gallery, now in another, during a great part
of April. This constant traffic of the males
in the entrance-lobbies of their houses and
the prolonged stay which the bad weather
often compels them to make provide the
Sitares with the most favourable opportunity
for slipping into the Bees' fur and taking up
their position. Moreover, when this state of
65

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

affairs has lasted a month or so, there can
be only very few if any larvae left wandering
about without having attained their end. At
that period I was unable to find them any-
where save on the body of the male An-
thophora.

It is therefore extremely probable that, on
their emergence, which takes place as May
draws near, the female Anthophorae do not
pick up Sitaris-larvae in the corridors, or
pick up only a number which will not compare
with that carried by the males. In fact, the
first females that I was able to observe in
April, in the actual neighbourhood of the
nests, were free from these larvae. Never-
theless it is upon the females that the Sitaris-
larvae must finally establish themselves, for
the males upon whom they now are cannot
introduce them into the cells, since they take
no part in the building or provisioning.
There is therefore, at a given moment, a
transfer of Sitaris-larvae from the male An-
thophorae to the females; and this transfer
is, beyond a doubt, effected during the union
of the sexes. The female finds in the
male's embraces both life and death for her
offspring; at the moment when she surrenders
herself to the male for the preservation of
her. race, the vigilant parasites pass from the.
66

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

male to the female, with the extermination
of that same race in view.

In support of these deductions, here is a
fairly conclusive experiment, though it re-
produces the natural circumstances but
roughly. On a female taken in her cell and
therefore free from Sitares, I place a male
who is infested with them; and I keep the
two sexes in contact, suppressing their unruly
movements as far as I am able. After fifteen
or twenty minutes of this enforced proximity,
the female is invaded by one or more of the
larvae which at first were on the male.
True, experiment does not always succeed
under these imperfect conditions.

By watching at Avignon the few Antho-
phorae that I succeeded in discovering, I
was able to detect the precise moment of
their work; and on the following Thursday,1
the 21st of May, I repaired in all haste to
Carpentras, to witness, if possible, the en-
trance of the Sitares into the Bee's cells. I
was not mistaken: the works were in full
swing.

In front of a high expanse of earth, a
swarm stimulated by the sun, which floods
it with light and heat, is dancing a crazy

1 Thursday is the weekly holiday in French schools. —
Translator's Note.

67

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

ballet. It is a hover of Anthophorae, a few
feet thick and covering an area which matches
the sort of house-front formed by the per-
pendicular soil. From the tumultuous heart
of the cloud rises a monotonous, threatening
murmur, while the bewildered eye strays
through the inextricable evolutions of the
eager throng. With the rapidity of a light-
ning-flash thousands of Anthophorae are in-
cessantly flying off and scattering over the
country-side in search of booty; thousands of
others also are incessantly arriving, laden
with honey or mortar, and keeping up the
formidable proportions of the swarm.

I was at that time something of a novice
as regards the nature of these insects:

" Woe," said I to myself, " woe to the
reckless wight bold enough to enter the heart
of this swarm and, above all, to lay a rash
hand upon the dwellings under construction !
Forthwith surrounded by the furious host,
he would expiate his rash attempt, stabbed by
a thousand stings ! "

At this thought, rendered still more alarm-
ing by the recollection of certain misadven-
tures of which I had been the victim when
seeking to observe too closely the combs of
the Hornet {Vespa crabro), I felt a shiver
of apprehension pass through my body.
68

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

Yet, to obtain light upon the question
which brings me hither, I must needs pene-
trate the fearsome swarm; I must stand for
whole hours, perhaps all day, watching the
works which I intend to upset; lens in hand,
I must scrutinize, unmoved amid the whirl,
the things that are happening in the cells.
The use moreover of a mask, of gloves, of
a covering of any kind is impracticable, for
utter dexterity of the fingers and complete
liberty of sight are essential to the investiga-
tions which I have to make. No matter:
even though I leave this wasps'-nest with a
face swollen beyond recognition, I must to-
day obtain a decisive solution of the problem
which has preoccupied me too long.

A few strokes of the net, aimed, beyond
the limits of the swarm, at the Anthophorae
on their way to the harvest or returning,
soon informed me that the Sitaris-larvae are
perched on the thorax, as I expected, occu-
pying the same position as on the males.
The circumstances therefore could not be
more favourable. We will inspect the cells
without further delay.

My preparations are made at once: I but-
ton my clothes tightly, so as to afford the
Bees the least possible opportunity, and I en-
ter the heart of the swarm. A few blows of
69

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

the mattock, which arouse a far from reassur-
ing crescendo in the humming of the Antho-
phorae, soon place me in possession of a
lump of earth; and I beat a hasty retreat,
greatly astonished to find myself still safe
and sound and unpursued. But the lump of
earth which I have removed is from a part
too near the surface; it contains nothing but
Osmia-cells, which do not interest me for the
moment. A second expedition is made, last-
ing longer than the first; and, though my
retreat is effected without great precipitation,
not an Anthophora has touched me with her
sting, nor even shown herself disposed to
fall upon the aggressor.

This success emboldens me. I remain
permanently in front of the work in progress,
continually removing lumps of earth filled
with cells, spilling the liquid honey on the
ground, eviscerating larvae and crushing the
Bees busily occupied in their nests. All
this devastation results merely in arousing
a louder hum in the swarm and is not fol-
lowed by any hostile demonstration. The
Anthophorae whose cells are not hurt go
about their labours as if nothing unusual
were happening round about them; those
whose dwellings are overturned try to repair
them, or hover distractedly in front of the
70

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

ruins; but none of them seems inclined to
swoop down upon the author of the damage.
At most, a few, more irritated than the rest,
come at intervals and hover before my face,
confronting me at a distance of a couple of
inches, and then fly away, after a few mo-
ments of this curious inspection.

Despite the selection of a common site for
their nests, which might suggest an attempt
at communistic interests among the Antho-
phorae, these Bees, therefore, obey the ego-
tistical law of each one for himself and do
not know how to band themselves together
to repel an enemy who threatens one and all.
Taken singly, the Anthophora does not even
know how to dash at the enemy who is
ravaging her cells and drive him awav with
her stings; the pacific creature hastily leaves
its dwelling when disturbed by undermining
and escapes in a crippled state, sometimes
even mortally wounded, without thinking of
making use of its venomous sting, except
when it is seized and handled. Manv other
Hymenoptera, honey-gatherers or hunters,
are quite as spiritless; and I can assert to-day,
after a long experience, that only the Social
Hymenoptera, the Hive-bees, the Common
Wasps and the Bumble-bees, know how to
devise a common defence; and only they dare
71

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

fall singly upon the aggressor, to wreak an
individual vengeance.

Thanks to this unexpected lack of spirit
in the Mason-bee, I was able for hours to
pursue my investigations at my leisure, seated
on a stone in the midst of the murmuring and
distracted swarm, without receiving a single
sting, though I took no precautions whatever.
Country-folk, happening to pass and behold-
ing me seated, unperturbed, in the midst of
the whirl of Bees, stopped aghast to ask me
whether I had bewitched them, whether I
charmed them, since I appeared to have
nothing to fear from them :

" Me, moun bel ami, li-z-ave doun escoun-
jurado que vous pougnioun pas, caneu de
sort! "

My miscellaneous impedimenta spread
over the ground, boxes, glass jars and tubes,
tweezers and magnifying-glasses, were cer-
tainly regarded by these good people as the
implements of my wizardry.

We will now proceed to examine the cells.
Some are still open and contain only a more
or less complete store of honey. Others are
hermetically sealed with an earthen lid.
The contents of these latter vary greatly.
Sometimes we find the larva of a Bee which
has finished its mess or is on the point of
7*

The Primary Larva of the Shares

finishing it; sometimes a larva, white like the
first, but more corpulent and of a different
shape; at other times honey with an egg
floating on the surface. The honey is liquid
and sticky, with a brownish colour and a
very strong, repulsive smell. The egg is of
a beautiful white, cylindrical in shape, slightly
curved into an arc, a fifth or a sixth of an
inch in length and not quite a twenty-fifth of
an inch in thickness ; it is the egg of the An-
thophora.

In a few cells this egg is floating all alone
on the surface of the honey; in others, very
numerous these, we see, lying on the egg of
the Anthophora, as on a sort of raft, a young
Sitaris-grub with the shape and the dimen-
sions which I have described above, that is
to say, with the shape and the dimensions
which the creature possesses on leaving the
egg. This is the enemy within the gates.

When and how did it get in? In none of
the cells where I have observed it was I able
to distinguish a fissure which could have al-
lowed it to enter; they are all sealed in a
quite irreproachable manner. The parasite
therefore established itself in the honey-
warehouse before the warehouse was closed;
on the other hand, the open cells, full of
honey, but as yet without the egg of the
73

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

Anthophora, are always free from parasites.
It is therefore during the laying, or after-
wards, when the Anthophora is occupied in
plastering the door of the cell, that the young
larva gains admittance. It is impossible to
decide by experiment to which of these two
periods we must ascribe the introduction of
the Sitares into the cell; for, however peace-
able the Anthophora may be, it is evident
that we cannot hope to witness what happens
in the cell at the moment when she is laying
an egg or at the moment when she is making
the lid. But a few attempts will soon con-
vince us that the only second which would
allow the Sitaris to establish itself in the
home of the Bee is the very second when the
egg is laid on the surface of the honey.

Let us take an Anthophora-cell full of
honey and furnished with an egg and, after
removing the lid, place it in a glass tube with
a few Sitaris-grubs. The grubs do not ap-
pear at all eager for this wealth of nectar
placed within their reach; they wander at ran-
dom about the tube, run about the outside
of the cell, sometimes happen upon the edge
of the orifice and very rarely venture inside.
When they do, they do not go far in and
they come out again at once. If one happens
to reach the honey, which only half fills the

74

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

cell, it tries to escape as soon as it has per-
ceived the shifting nature of the sticky soil
upon which it was about to enter; but, totter-
ing at every step, because of the viscous
matter clinging to its feet, it often ends by
falling back into the honey, where it dies of
suffocation.

Again, we may experiment as follows:
having prepared a cell as before, we place
a larva most carefully on its inner wall, or
else on the surface of the food itself. In
the first case, the larva hastens to leave the
cell; in the second case, it struggles awhile
on the surface of the honey and ends by
getting so completely caught that, after a
thousand efforts to gain the shore, it is swal-
lowed up in the viscous lake.

In short, all attempts to establish the
Sitaris-grub in an Anthophora-cell provi-
sioned with honey and furnished with an egg
are no more successful than those which I
made with cells whose store of food had
already been broached by the larva of the
Bee, as described above. It is therefore cer-
tain that the Sitaris-grub does not leave the
fleece of the Mason-bee when the Bee is in
her cell or at the entrance to it, in order
itself to make a rush for the coveted honey ;
for this honey would inevitably cause its
75

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

death, if it happened by accident to touch
the perilous surface merely with the tip of
its tarsi.

Since we cannot admit that the Sitaris-grub
leaves the furry corselet of its hostess to slip
unseen into the cell, whose orifice is not yet
wholly walled up, at the moment when the
Anthophora is building her door, all that
remains to investigate is the second at which
the egg is being laid. Remember in the first
place that the young Sitaris which we find in
a closed cell is always placed on the egg of
the Bee. We shall see in a minute that this
egg not merely serves as a raft for the tiny
creature floating on a very treacherous lake,
but also constitutes the first and indispensable
part of its diet. To get at this egg, situated
in the centre of the lake of honey, to reach,
at all costs, this raft, which is also its first
ration, the young larva evidently possesses
some means of avoiding the fatal contact of
the honey; and this means can be provided
only by the actions of the Bee herself.

In the second place, observations repeated
ad nauseam have shown me that at no pe-
riod do we find in each invaded cell more
than a single Sitaris, in one or other of the
forms which it successively assumes. Yet
there are several young larvae established in
76

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

the silky tangle of the Bee's thorax, all
eagerly watching for the propitious moment
at which to enter the dwelling in which they
are to continue their development. How
then does it happen that these larvae, goaded
by such an appetite as one would expect after
seven or eight months' complete abstinence,
instead of all rushing together into the first
cell within reach, on the contrary enter the
various cells which the Bee is provisioning
one at a time and in perfect order? Some
action must take place here independent of
the Sitares.

To satisfy those two indispensable condi-
tions, the arrival of the larva upon the egg
without crossing the honey and the introduc-
tion of a single larva among all those waiting
in the fleece of the Bee, there can be only
one explanation, which is to suppose that, at
the moment when the Anthophora's egg is
half out of the oviduct, one of the Sitares
which have hastened from the thorax to the
tip of the abdomen, one more highly fa-
voured by its position, instantly settles upon
the egg, a bridge too narrow for two, and
with it reaches the surface of the honey.
The impossibility of otherwise fulfilling the
two conditions which I have stated gives to
the explanation which I am offering a degree
77

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

of certainty almost equivalent to that which
would be furnished by direct observation,
which is here, unfortunately, impracticable.
This presupposes, it is true, in the microscopic
little creature destined to live in a place
where so many dangers threaten it from the
first, an astonishingly rational inspiration,
which adapts the means to the end with
amazing logic. But is not this the invariable
conclusion to which the study of instinct
always leads us?

When dropping her egg upon the honey,
therefore, the Anthophora at the same time
deposits in her cell the mortal enemy of her
race; she carefully plasters the lid which
closes the entrance to the cell; and all is
done. A second cell is built beside it, pro-
bably to suffer the same fatal doom; and so
on until the more or less numerous parasites
sheltered by her down are all accommodated.
Let us leave the unhappy mother to continue
her fruitless task and turn our attention to
the young larva which has so adroitly se-
cured itself board and lodging.

In opening cells whose lid is still moist, we
end by discovering one in which the egg, re-
cently laid, supports a young Sitaris. This
egg is intact and in irreproachable condition.
But now the work of devastation begins : the
78

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

larva, a tiny black speck which we see run-
ning over the white surface of the egg, at
last stops and balances itself firmly on its six
legs; then, seizing the delicate skin of the
egg with the sharp hooks of its mandibles, it
tugs at it violently until it breaks, spilling its
contents, which the larva eagerly drinks up.
Thus the first stroke of the mandibles which
the parasite delivers in the usurped cell is
aimed at the destruction of the Bee's egg. A
highly logical precaution! The Sitaris-
larva, as we shall see, has to feed upon the
honey in the cell; the Anthophora-larva
which would proceed from that egg would
require the same food; but the portion is too
small for two; so, quick, a bite at the egg
and the difficulty will be removed. The story
of these facts calls for no comment. This
destruction of the cumbersome egg is all the
more inevitable inasmuch as special tastes
compel the young Sitaris-grub to make its
first meals of it. Indeed we see the tiny
creature begin by greedily drinking the juices
which the torn wrapper of the egg allows to
escape; and for several days it may be ob-
served, at one time motionless on this en-
velope, in which it rummages at intervals
with its head, at others running over it from
end to end to rip it open still wider and to
79

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

cause a little of the juices, which become daily
less abundant, to trickle from it; but we
never catch it imbibing the honey which sur-
rounds it on every side.

For that matter, it is easy to convince
ourselves that the egg combines with the
function of a life-buoy that of the first ration.
I have laid on the surface of the honey in a
cell a tiny strip of paper, of the same dimen-
sions as the egg; and on this raft I have
placed a Sitaris-larva. Despite every care,
my attempts, many times repeated, always
failed. The larva, placed in a paper boat
in the centre of the mass of honey, behaves
as in the earlier experiments. Not finding
what suits it, it tries to escape and perishes
in the sticky toils as soon as it leaves the
strip of paper, which it soon does.

On the other hand, we can easily rear
Sitaris-grubs by taking Anthophora-cells not
invaded by the parasites, cells in which the
egg is not yet hatched. All that we have
to do is to pick up one of these grubs with
the moistened tip of a needle and to lay it
delicately on the egg. There is then no
longer the least attempt to escape. After
exploring the egg to find its way about, the
larva rips it open and for several days does
80

The Primary Larva of the Sitares

not stir from the spot. Henceforth its de-
velopment takes place unhindered, provided
that the cell be protected from too rapid
evaporation, which would dry up the honey
and render it unfit for the grub's food. The
Anthophora's egg therefore is absolutely ne-
cessary to the Sitaris-larva, not merely as a
boat, but also as its first nourishment. This
is the whole secret, for lack of knowing which
I had hitherto failed in my attempts to rear
the larvae hatched in my glass jars.

At the end of a week, the egg, drained by
the parasite, is nothing but a dry skin. The
first meal is finished. The Sitaris-larva,
whose dimensions have almost doubled, now
splits open along the back; and through a
slit which comprises the head and the three
thoracic segments a white corpusculum, the
second form of this singular organism, es-
capes to fall on the surface of the honey,
while the abandoned slough remains clinging
to the raft which has hitherto safeguarded
and fed the larva. Presently both sloughs,
those of the Sitaris and the egg, will dis-
appear, submerged under the waves of honey
which the new larva is about to raise. Here
ends the history of the first form adopted by

the Sitaris.

81

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

In summing up the above, we see that the
strange little creature awaits, without food,
for seven months, the appearance of the
Anthophorae and at last fastens on to the
hairs on the corselet of the males, who are
the first to emerge and who inevitably pass
within its reach in going through their cor-
ridors. From the fleece of the male the
larva moves, three or four weeks later, to
that of the female, at the moment of
coupling; and then from the female to the
egg leaving the oviduct. It is by this con-
catenation of complex manoeuvres that the
larva in the end finds itself perched upon an
egg in the middle of a closed cell filled with
honey. These perilous gymnastics on the
hair of a Bee in movement all the day, this
passing from one sex to the other, this ar-
rival in the middle of the cell by way of the
egg, a dangerous bridge thrown across the
sticky abyss, all this necessitates the balancing-
appliances with which it is provided and
which I have described above. Lastly, the
destruction of the egg calls, in its turn, for a
sharp pair of scissors; and such is the object
of the keen, curved mandibles. Thus the
primary form of the Sitares has as its func-
tion to get itself carried by the Anthophora
into the cell and to rip up her egg. This
82

The Primary Larva of the Shares

done, the organism becomes transformed to
such a degree that repeated observations are
required to make us believe the evidence of
our eyes.

83

CHAPTER IV

THE PRIMARY LARVA OF THE OIL-BEETLES

1 INTERRUPT the history of the Sitares
to speak of the Meloes, those uncouth
Beetles, with their clumsy belly and their
limp wing-cases yawning over their back like
the tails of a fat man's coat that is far too
tight for its wearer. The insect is ugly in
colouring, which is black, with an occasional
blue gleam, and uglier still in shape and gait;
and its disgusting method of defence increases
the repugnance with which it inspires us. If
it judges itself to be in danger, the Meloe
resorts to spontaneous bleeding. From its
joints a yellowish, oily fluid oozes, which
stains your fingers and makes them stink.
This is the creature's blood. The English,
because of its trick of discharging oily blood
when on the defensive, call this insect the
Oil-beetle. It would not be a particularly
interesting Beetle save for its metamorphoses
and the peregrinations of its larva, which are
similar in every respect to those of the larva
of the Sitares. In their first form, the Oil-
beetles are parasites of the Anthophorae;
84

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

their tiny grub, when it leaves the egg, has
itself carried into the cell by the Bee whose
victuals are to form its food.

Observed in the down of various Bees, the
queer little creature for a long time baffled
the sagacity of the naturalists, who, mistaking
its true origin, made it a species of a special
family of wingless insects. It was the Bee-
louse {Pediculis apis) of Linnaeus; ! the Tri-
ungulin of the Andrenae {Triungulinus An-
drenetarum) of Leon Dufour. They saw
in it a parasite, a sort of Louse, living in the
fleece of the honey-gatherers. It was re-
served for the distinguished English na-
turalist Newport to show that this supposed
Louse was the first state of the Oil-beetles.
Some observations of my own will fill a few
lacunae in the English scientist's monograph.
I will therefore sketch the evolution of the
Oil-beetles, using Newport's work where my
own observations are defective. In this way
the Sitares and the Meloes, alike in habits
and transformations, will be compared; and
the comparison will throw a certain light
upon the strange metamorphoses of these
insects.

1 Carolus Linnaeus (Karl von Linne, 1707-1778), the cel-
ebrated Swedish botanist and naturalist, founder of the
Linnxan system of classification. — Translator's Note.

85

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

The same Mason-bee {Anthophora pili-
pes) upon whom the Sitares live also feeds
a few scarce Meloes (M. cicatricosus) in its
cells. A second Anthophora of my district
{A. parietina) is more subject to this para-
site's invasions. It was also in the nests of
an Anthophora, but of a different species
{A. retusa), that Newport observed the
same Oil-beetle. These three lodgings
adopted by Meloe cicatricosus may be of
some slight interest, as leading us to suspect
that each species of Meloe is apparently the
parasite of diverse Bees, a suspicion which
will be confirmed when we examine the man-
ner in which the larvae reach the cell full of
honey. The Sitares, though less given to
change of lodging, are likewise able to in-
habit nests of different species. They are
very common in the cells of Anthophora
pilipes; but I have found them also, in very
small numbers, it is true, in the cells of A.
personata.

Despite the presence of Meloe cicatricosus
in the dwellings of the Mason-bee, which I
so often ransacked in compiling the history
of the Sitares, I never saw this insect, at any
season of the year, wandering on the per-
pendicular soil, at the entrance of the corri-
dors, for the purpose of laying its eggs
86

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

there, as the Sitares do; and I should know
nothing of the details of the egg-laying if
Godart,1 de Geer 2 and, above all, Newport
had not informed us that the Oil-beetles lay
their eggs in the earth. According to the
last-named author, the various Oil-beetles
whom he had the opportunity of observing
dig, among the roots of a clump of grass, in
a dry soil exposed to the sun, a hole a couple
of inches deep which they carefully fill up
after laying their eggs there in a heap. This
laying is repeated three or four times over,
at intervals of a few days during the same
season. For each batch of eggs the female
digs a special hole, which she does not fail
to fill up afterwards. This takes place in
April and May.

The number of eggs laid in a single batch
is really prodigious. In the first batch,
which, it is true, is the most prolific of all,
Meloe proscarabaus, according to New-
port's calculations, produces the astonishing
number of 4,218 eggs, which is double the
number of eggs laid by a Sitaris. And what

1 Jean Baptiste Godart (1775-1823), the principal editor
of L'Histoire naturelle des lepidopteres de France. —
Translator's Note.

2 Baron Karl de Geer (1720-1778), the Swedish ento-
mologist, author of Memoires pour ser<vir a I'histoire des
insectes (1752-1778). — Translator's Note.

87

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

must the number be, when we allow for the
two or three batches that follow the first!
The Sitares, entrusting their eggs to the very
corridors through which the Anthophora is
bound to pass, spare their larvae a host of
dangers which the larvae of the Meloe have
to run, for these, born far from the dwell-
ings of the Bees, are obliged to make their
own way to their hymenopterous foster-
parents. The Oil-beetles, therefore, lack-
ing the instinct of the Sitares, are endowed
with incomparably greater fecundity. The
richness of their ovaries atones for the in-
sufficiency of instinct by proportioning the
number of germs in accordance with the risks
of destruction. What transcendent harmony
is this, which thus holds the scales between
the fecundity of the ovaries and the perfect-
ion of instinct!

The hatching of the eggs takes place at the
end of May or in June, about a month after
they are laid. The eggs of the Sitares also
are hatched after the same lapse of time.
But the Meloe-larvae, more greatly fa-
voured, are able to set off immediately in
search of the Bees that are to feed them;
while those of the Sitares, hatched in Sep-
tember, have to wait motionless and in com-
plete abstinence for the emergence of the An-
88

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

thophorae the entrance to whose cells they
guard. I will not describe the young Meloe-
larva, which is sufficiently well known, in
particular by the description and the diagram
furnished by Newport. To enable the
reader to understand what follows, I will
confine myself to stating that this primary
larva is a sort of little yellow louse, long
and slender, found in the spring in the down
of different Bees.

How has this tiny creature made its way
from the underground lodging where the eggs
are hatched to the fleece of a Bee? New-
port suspects that the young Oil-beetles, on
emerging from their natal burrow, climb
upon the neighbouring plants, especially upon
the Cichoriceae, and wait, concealed among
the petals, until a few Bees chance to plunder
the flower, when they promptly fasten on to
their fur and allow themselves to be borne
away by them. I have more than Newport's
suspicions upon this curious point; my per-
sonal observations and experiments are ab-
solutely convincing. I will relate them as
the first phase of the history of the Bee-
louse. They date back to the 23rd of May,
1858.

A vertical bank on the road from Car-
pentras to Bedoin is this time the scene of
89

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

my observations. This bank, baked by the
sun, is exploited by numerous swarms of
Anthophorae, who, more industrious than
their congeners, are in the habit of building,
at the entrance to their corridors, with serp-
entine fillets of earth, a vestibule, a defensive
bastion in the form of an arched cylinder.
In a word, they are swarms of A. parietina.
A sparse carpet of turf extends from the
edge of the road to the foot of the bank.
The more confortably to follow the work of
the Bees, in the hope of wresting some secret
from them, I had been lying for a few
moments upon this turf, in the very heart of
the inoffensive swarm, when my clothes were
invaded by legions of little yellow lice, run-
ning with desperate eagerness through the
hairy thickets of the nap of the cloth. In
these tiny creatures, with which I was pow-
dered here and there as with yellow dust, I
soon recognized an old acquaintance, the
young Oil-beetles, whom I now saw for the
first time elsewhere than in the Bees' fur or
the interior of their cells. I could not lose so
excellent an opportunity of learning how
these larvae manage to establish themselves
upon the bodies of their foster-parents.

In the grass where, after lying down for
a moment, I had caught these lice were a
90

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

few plants in blossom, of which the most
abundant were three composites: Hedypnois
polymorpha, Senecio gallicus and Anthemis
arvensis. Now it was on a composite, a
dandelion, that Newport seemed to remem-
ber seeing some young Oil-beetles; and my
attention therefore was first of all directed
to the plants which I have named. To my
great satisfaction, nearly all the flowers of
these three plants, especially those of the
camomile {Anthemis) were occupied by
young Oil-beetles in greater or lesser num-
bers. On one head of camomile I counted
forty of these tiny insects, cowering motion-
less in the centre of the florets. On the other
hand, I could not discover any on the flowers
of the poppy or of a wild rocket (Diplotaxis
muralts) which grew promiscuously among
the plants aforesaid. It seems to me, there-
fore, that it is only on the composite flowers
that the Meloe-larvae await the Bees' ar-
rival.

In addition to this population encamped
upon the heads of the composites and re-
maining motionless, as though it had achieved
its object for the moment, I soon discovered
yet another, far more numerous, whose anx-
ious activity betrayed a fruitless search. On
the ground, in the grass, numberless little
91

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

larvae were running in a great flutter, re-
calling in some respects the tumultuous dis-
order of an overturned Ant-hill; others were
hurriedly climbing to the tip of a blade of
grass and descending with the same haste;
others again were plunging into the downy
fluff of the withered everlastings, remaining
there a moment and quickly reappearing to
continue their search. Lastly, with a little
attention, I was able to convince myself that
within an area of a dozen square yards there
was perhaps not a single blade of grass which
was not explored by several of these larvae.
I was evidently witnessing the recent
emergence of the young Oil-beetles from their
maternal lairs. Part of them had already
settled on the groundsel- and camomile-
flowers to await the -arrival of the Bees; but
the majority were still wandering in search
of this provisional refuge. It was by this
wandering population that I had been in-
vaded when I lay down at the foot of the
bank. It was impossible that all these
larvae, the tale of whose alarming thousands
I would not venture to define, should form
one family and recognize a common mother;
despite what Newport has told us of the
Oil-beetles' astonishing fecundity, I could not
believe this, so great was their multitude.
92

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

Though the green carpet was continued
for a considerable distance along the side of
the road, I could not detect a single Meloe-
larva elsewhere than in the few square yards
lying in front of the bank inhabited by the
Mason-bee. These larvae therefore could
not have come far; to find themselves near
the Anthophorae they had had no long pil-
grimage to make, for there was not a sign
of the inevitable stragglers and laggards that
follow in the wake of a travelling caravan.
The burrows in which the eggs were hatched
were therefore in that turf opposite the
Bees' abode. Thus the Oil-beetles, far from
laying their eggs at random, as their wander-
ing life might lead one to suppose, and leav-
ing their young to the task of approaching
their future home, are able to recognize the
spots haunted by the Anthophorae and lay
their eggs in the near neighbourhood of those
spots.

With such a multitude of parasites occu-
pying the composite flowers in close proximity
to the Anthophora's nests, it is impossible
that the majority of the swarm should not
become infested sooner or later. At the
time of my observations, a comparatively
tiny proportion of the starving legion was
waiting on the flowers; the others were still

93

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

wandering on the ground, where the Antho-
phorae very rarely alight; and yet I detected
the presence of several Meloe-larvae in the
thoracic down of nearly all the Anthophorae
which I caught and examined.

I have also found them on the bodies of
the Melecta- and Coelioxys-bees,1 who are
parasitic on the Anthophorae. Suspending
their audacious patrolling before the gal-
leries under construction, these spoilers of
the victualled cells alight for an instant on
a camomile-flower and lo, the thief is
robbed! A tiny, imperceptible louse has
slipped into the thick of the downy fur and,
at the moment when the parasite, after de-
stroying the Anthophora's egg, is laying her
own upon the stolen honey, will creep upon
this egg, destroy it in its turn and remain
sole mistress of the provisions. The mess
of honey amassed by the Anthophora will
thus pass through the hands of three owners
and remain finally the property of the weak-
est of the three.

And who shall say whether the Meloe, in
its turn, will not be dispossessed by a fresh
thief; or even whether it will not, in the state
of a drowsy, fat and flabby larva, fall a

1 Cf. The Mason-bees: chaps, viii. and ix. — Trans-
lator's Note.

94

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

prey to some marauder who will munch its
live entrails? As we meditate upon this
deadly, implacable struggle which nature im-
poses, for their preservation, on these differ-
ent creatures, which are by turns possessors
and dispossessed, devourers and devoured, a
painful impression mingles with the wonder
aroused by the means employed by each
parasite to attain its end ; and, forgetting for
a moment the tiny world in which these things
happen, we are seized with terror at this
concatenation of larceny, cunning and bri-
gandage which forms part, alas, of the de-
signs of alma parens rerum!

The young Meloe-larvae established in the
down of the Anthophorae or in that of the
Melecta- and the Coelioxys-bees, their para-
sites, had adopted an infallible means of
sooner or later reaching the desired cell.
Was it, so far as they were concerned, a
choice dictated by the foresight of instinct,
or just simply the result of a lucky chance?
The question was soon decided. Various
Flies — Drone-flies and Bluebottles (Eris-
talis tenax and Calliphora vomit oria) —
would settle from time to time on the ground-
sel- or camomile-flowers occupied by the
young Meloes and stop for a moment to suck
the sweet secretions. On all these Flies,
95

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

with very few exceptions, I found Meloe-
larvae, motionless in the silky down of the
thorax. I may also mention, as infested by
these larvae, an Ammophila {A. hirsuta) ,x
who victuals her burrows with a caterpillar
in early spring, while her kinswomen build
their nests in autumn. This Wasp merely
grazes, so to speak, the surface of a flower;
I catch her; there are Meloes moving about
her body. It is clear that neither the Drone-
flies nor the Bluebottles, whose larva? live in
putrefying matter, nor yet the Ammophilae
who victual theirs with caterpillars, could
ever have carried the larvae which invaded
them into cells filled with honey. These
larvae therefore had gone astray; and in-
stinct, as does not often happen, was here at
fault.

Let us now turn our attention to the young
Meloes waiting expectant upon the camomile-
flowers. There they are, ten, fifteen or
more, lodged half-way down the florets of a
single blossom or in their interstices; it
therefore needs a certain degree of scrutiny
to perceive them, their hiding-place being the

1 For the Wasp known as the Hairy Ammophila, who
feeds her young on the Grey Worm, the caterpillar of
the Turnip Moth, cf. The Hunting Wasps, chaps, xviii. to
xx. — Translator's Note.

96

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

more effectual in that the amber colour of
their bodies merges in the yellow hue of the
florets. So long as nothing unusual happens
upon the flower, so long as no sudden shock
announces the arrival of a strange visitor, the
Meloes remain absolutely motionless and
give no sign of life. To see them dipping
vertically, head downwards, into the florets,
one might suppose that they were seeking
some sweet liquid, their food; but in that case
they ought to pass more frequently from one
floret to another, which they do not, except
when, after a false alarm, they regain their
hiding-places and choose the spot which seems
to them the most favourable. This immo-
bility means that the florets of the camomile
serve them only as a place of ambush, even
as later the Anthophora's body will serve
them solely as a vehicle to convey them to
the Bee's cell. They take no nourishment,
either on the flowers or on the Bees; and,
as with the Sitares, their first meal will con-
sist of the Anthophora's egg, which the hooks
of their mandibles are intended to rip open.
Their immobility is, as we have said, com-
plete; but nothing is easier than to arouse
their suspended activity. Shake a camomile-
blossom lightly with a bit of straw : instantly
the Meloes leave their hiding-places, come
97

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

up and scatter in all directions on the white
petals of the circumference, running over
them from one end to the other with all the
speed which the smallness of their size per-
mits. On reaching the extreme end of the
petals, they fasten to it either with their
caudal appendages, or perhaps with a sticky
substance similar to that furnished by the
anal button of the Sitares; and, with their
bodies hanging outside and their six legs
free, they bend about in every direction and
stretch as far out as they can, as though
striving to touch an object out of their reach.
If nothing offers for them to seize upon,
after a few vain attempts they regain the
centre of the flower and soon resume their
immobility.

But, if we place near them any object
whatever, they do not fail to catch on to it
with surprising agility. A blade of grass,
a bit of straw, the handle of my tweezers
which I hold out to them: they accept any-
thing in their eagerness to quit the provisional
shelter of the flower. It is true that, after
finding themselves on these inanimate ob-
jects, they soon recognize that they have gone
astray, as we see by their bustling move-
ments to and fro and their tendency to go
back to the flower if there still be time.
98

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

Those which have thus giddily flung them-
selves upon a bit of straw and are allowed
to return to their flower do not readily fall
a second time into the same trap. There
is therefore, in these animated specks, a
memory, an experience of things.

After these experiments I tried others with
hairy materials imitating more or less closely
the down of the Bees, with little pieces of
cloth or velvet cut from my clothes, with
plugs of cotton wool, with pellets of flock
gathered from the everlastings. Upon all
these objects, offered with the tweezers, the
Meloes flung themselves without any diffi-
culty; but, instead of keeping quiet, as they
do on the bodies of the Bees, they soon con-
vinced me, by their restless behaviour, that
they found themselves as much out of their
element on these furry materials as on the
smooth surface of a bit of straw. I ought to
have expected this : had I not just seen them
wandering without pause upon the everlast-
ings enveloped with cottony flock? If
reaching the shelter of a downy surface were
enough to make them believe themselves safe
in harbour, nearly all would perish, without
further attempts, in the down of the plants.

Let us now offer them live insects and, first
of all, Anthophorae. If the Bee, after we

99

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

have rid her of the parasites which she may
be carrying, be taken by the wings and held
for a moment in contact with the flower, we
invariably find her, after this rapid contact,
overrun by Meloes clinging to her hairs.
The larvae nimbly take up their position on
the thorax, usually on the shoulders or sides,
and once there they remain motionless: the
second stage of their strange journey is com-
passed.

After the Anthophorae, I tried the first
live insects that I was able to procure at once :
Drone-flies, Bluebottles, Hive-bees, small
Butterflies. All were alike overrun by the
Meloes, without hesitation. What is more,
there was no attempt made to return to the
flowers. As I could not find any Beetles at
the moment, I was unable to experiment with
them. Newport, experimenting, it is true,
under conditions very different from mine,
since his observations related to young
Meloes held captive in a glass jar, while
mine were made in the normal circumstances,
Newport, I was saying, saw Meloes fasten
to the body of a Malachius and stay there
without moving, which inclines me to believe
that with Beetles I should have obtained the
same results as, for instance, with a Drone-
fly. And I did, in fact, at a later date, find

IOO

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

some Meloe-larvae on the body of a big
Beetle, the Golden Rose-chafer (Cetonia
auratd), an assiduous visitor of the flowers.

After exhausting the insect class, I put
within their reach my last resource, a large
black Spider. Without hesitation they
passed from the flower to the arachnid,
made for places near the joints of the legs
and settled there without moving. Every-
thing therefore seems to suit their plans for
leaving the provisional abode where they are
waiting; without distinction of species, genus,
or class, they fasten to the first living crea-
ture that chance brings within their reach.
We now understand how it is that these young
larvae have been observed upon a host of
different insects and especially upon the early
Flies and Bees pillaging the flowers; we can
also understand the need for that prodigious
number of eggs laid by a single Oil-beetle,
since the vast majority of the larvae which
come out of them will infallibly go astray
and will not succeed in reaching the cells of
the Anthophorae. Instinct is at fault here;
and fecundity makes up for it.

But instinct recovers its infallibility in an-
other case. The Meloes, as we have seen,
pass without difficulty from the flower to the
objects within their reach, whatever these
iai

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

may be, smooth or hairy, living or inanimate.
This done, they behave very differently, ac-
cording as they have chanced to invade the
body of an insect or some other object. In
the first case, on a downy Fly or Butterfly,
on a smooth-skinned Spider or Beetle, the
larvae remain motionless after reaching the
point which suits them. Their instinctive
desire is therefore satisfied. In the second
case, in the midst of the nap of cloth or vel-
vet, or the filaments of cotton, or the flock of
the everlasting, or, lastly, on the smooth
surface of a leaf or a straw, they betray the
knowledge of their mistake by their continual
coming and going, by their efforts to return
to the flower imprudently abandoned.

How then do they recognize the nature of
the object to which they have just moved?
How is it that this object, whatever the qua-
lity of its surface, will sometimes suit them
and sometimes not? Do they judge their
new lodging by sight? But then no mistake
would be possible ; the sense of sight would
tell them at the outset whether the object
within reach was suitable or not; and emigra-
tion would or would not take place accord-
ing to its decision. And then how can we
suppose that, buried in the dense thicket of
a pellet of cotton-wool or in the fleece of an

102

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

Anthophora, the imperceptible larva can
recognize, by sight, the enormous mass
which it is perambulating?

Is it by touch, by some sensation due to
the inner vibrations of living flesh? Not so,
for the Meloes remain motionless on insect
corpses that have dried up completely, on
dead Anthophorae taken from cells at least
a year old. I have seen them keep abso-
lutely quiet on fragments of an Anthophora
on a thorax long since nibbled and emptied
by the Mites. By what sense then can they
distinguish the thorax of an Anthophora
from a velvety pellet, when sight and touch
are out of the question? The sense of smell
remains. But in that case what exquisite
subtlety must we not take for granted?
Moreover, what similarity of smell can we
admit between all the insects which, dead or
alive, whole or in pieces, fresh or dried, suit
the Meloes, while anything else does not
suit them? A wretched louse, a living
speck, leaves us mightily perplexed as to the
sensibility which directs it. Here is yet one
more riddle added to all the others.

After the observations which I have de-
scribed, it remained for me to search the
earthen surface inhabited by the Antho-
phorae: I should then have followed the
103

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

Meloe-larva in its transformations. It was
certainly cicatricosus whose larvae I had
been studying; it was certainly this insect
which ravaged the cells of the Mason-bee,
for I found it dead in the old galleries which
it had been unable to leave. This oppor-
tunity, which did not occur again, promised
me an ample harvest. I had to give it all
up. My Thursday was drawing to a close ;
I had to return to Avignon, to resume my
lessons on the electrophorus and the Tori-
cellian tube. O happy Thursdays! What
glorious opportunities I lost because you were
too short!

We will go back a year to continue this
history. I collected, under far less favour-
able conditions, it is true, enough notes to
map out the biography of the tiny creature
which we have just seen migrating from the
camomile-flowers to the Anthophora's back.
From what I have said of the Sitaris-larvae,
it is plain that the Meloe-larvae perched, like
the former, on the back of a Bee, have but
one aim: to get themselves conveyed by this
Bee to the victualled cells. Their object is
not to live for a time on the body that carries
them.

Were it necessary to prove this, it would
be enough to say that we never see these
104

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

larvae attempt to pierce the skin of the Bee,
or else to nibble at a hair or two, nor do we
see them increase in size so long as they are
on the Bee's body. To the Meloes, as to
the Sitares, the Anthophora serves merely
as a vehicle which conveys them to their goal,
the victualled cell.

It remains for us to learn how the Meloe
leaves the down of the Bee which has carried
it, in order to enter the cell. With larvae
collected from the bodies of different Bees,
before I was fully acquainted with the tactics
of the Sitares, I undertook, as Newport
had done before me, certain investigations in-
tended to throw light on this leading point
in the Oil-beetle's history. My attempts,
based upon those which I had made with the
Sitares, resulted in the same failure. The
tiny creatures, when brought into contact
with Anthophora-larvae or -nymphs, paid no
attention whatever to their prey; others,
placed near cells which were open and full of
honey, did not enter them, or at most ven-
tured to the edge of the orifice; others, lastly,
put inside the cell, on the dry wall or on the
surface of the honey, came out again im-
mediately or else got stuck and died. The
touch of the honey is as fatal to them as to
the young Sitares.

ios

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

Searches made at various periods in the
nests of the Hairy-footed Anthophora had
taught me some years earlier that Meloe
cicatricosus, like the Sitares, is a parasite of
that Bee; indeed I had at different times dis-
covered adult Meloes, dead and shrivelled,
in the Bee's cells. On the other hand, I
knew from Leon Dufour that the little
yellow animal, the Louse found in the
Bee's down, had been recognized, thanks to
Newport's investigations, as the larva of
the Oil-beetle. With these data, rendered
still more striking by what I was learning
daily on the subject of the Sitares, I went
to Carpentras, on the 21st of May, to
inspect the nests of the Anthophorae, then
building, as I have described. Though
I was almost certain of succeeding, sooner
or later, with the Sitares, who were ex-
cessively abundant, I had very little hope
of the Meloes, which on the contrary are
very scarce in the same nests. Circum-
stances, however, favoured me more than I
dared hope and, after six hours' labour, in
which the pick played a great part, I be-
came the possessor, by the sweat of my brow,
of a considerable number of cells occupied
by Sitares and two other cells appropriated

by Meloes.

106

The Primary Larva of the Oil-Beetles

While my enthusiasm had not had time to
cool at the sight, momentarily repeated, of
a young Sitaris perched upon an Antho-
phora's egg floating in the centre of the little
pool of honey, it might well have burst all
restraints on beholding the contents of one
of these cells. On the black, liquid honey a
wrinkled pellicle is floating; and on this pelli-
cle, motionless, is a yellow louse. The pelli-
cle is the empty envelope of the Anthophora's
egg; the louse is a Meloe-larva.

The story of this larva becomes self-evi-
dent. The young Meloe leaves the down
of the Bee at the moment when the egg is
laid; and, since contact with the honey would
be fatal to the grub, it must, in order to save
itself, adopt the tactics followed by the
Sitaris, that is to say, it must allow itself to
drop on the surface of the honey with the
egg which is in the act of being laid. There,
its first task is to devour the egg which serves
it for a raft, as is attested by the empty
envelope on which it still remains; and it is
after this 'meal, the only one that it takes so
long as it retains its present form, that it
must commence its long series of transfor-
mations and feed upon the honey amassed
by the Anthophora. This was the reason
of the complete failure both of my attempts
107

The. Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

and of Newport's to rear the young Meloe-
larvae. Instead of offering them honey, or
larvae, or nymphs, we should have placed
them on the eggs recently laid by the Antho-
phora.

On my return from Carpentras, I meant
to try this method, together with that of the
Sitares, with which I had been so successful;
but, as I had no Meloe-larvae at my disposal
and could not obtain any save by searching
for them in the Bees' fleece, the Anthophora-
eggs were all discovered to have hatched in
the cells which I brought back from my ex-
pedition, when I was at last able to find some.
This lost experiment is little to be regretted,
for, since the Meloes and the Sitares ex-
hibiting the completest similarity not only in
habits but also in their method of evolution,
there is no doubt whatever that I should have
succeeded. I even believe that this method
may be attempted with the cells of various
Bees, provided that the eggs and the honey
do not differ too greatly from the Antho-
phora's. I should not, for example, count
on being successful with the cells of the
three-horned Osmia, who shares the Antho-
phora's quarters: her egg is short and thick;
and her honey is yellow, odourless, solid, al-
most a powder and very faintly flavoured.
108

CHAPTER V

HYPERMETAMORPHOSIS

DY a Machiavellian stratagem the pri-
*■' mary larva of the Oil-beetle or the
Sitaris has penetrated the Anthophora's cell;
it has settled on the egg, which is its first
food and its life-raft in one. What becomes
of it once the egg is exhausted?

Let us, to begin with, go back to the larva
of the Sitaris. By the end of a week the
Anthophora's egg has been drained dry by
the parasite and is reduced to the envelope,
a shallow skiff which preserves the tiny
creature from the deadly contact of the
honey. It is on this skiff that the first trans-
formation takes place, whereafter the larva,
which is now organized to live in a glutinous
environment, drops off the raft into the pool
of honey and leaves its empty skin, split
along the back, clinging to the pellicle of the
egg. At this stage we see floating motion-
less on the honey a milk-white atom, oval,
flat and a twelfth of an inch long. This is
the larva of the Sitaris in its new form.
With the aid of a lens we can distinguish the
109

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

fluctuations of the digestive canal, which is
gorging itself with honey; and along the cir-
cumference of the flat, elliptical back we per-
ceive a double row of breathing-pores which,
thanks to their position, cannot be choked by
the viscous liquid. Before describing the
larva in detail we will wait for it to attain
its full development, which cannot take long,
for the provisions are rapidly diminishing.
The rapidity however is not to be com-
pared with that with which the gluttonous
larva? of the Anthophora consume their
food. Thus, on visiting the dwellings of the
Anthophorae for the last time, on the 25th
of June, I found that the Bee's larvae had
all finished their rations and attained their
full development, whereas those of the
Sitares, still immersed in the honey, were,
for the most part, only half the size which
they must finally attain. This is yet another
reason why the Sitares should destroy an
egg which, were it to develop, would produce
a voracious larva, capable of starving them
in a very short time. When rearing the
larvae myself in test-tubes, I have found that
the Sitares take thirty-five to forty days to
finish their mess of honey and that the larvae
of the Anthophora spend less than a fort-
night over the same meal,
no

Hypermetamorphosis

It is in the first half of July that the Sitaris-
grubs reach their full dimensions. At this
period the cell usurped by the parasite con-
tains nothing beyond a full-fed larva and,
in a corner, a heap of reddish droppings.
This larva is soft and white, about half an
inch in length and a quarter of an inch wide
at its broadest part. Seen from above as it
floats on the honey, it is elliptical in form,
tapering gradually towards the front and
more suddenly towards the rear. Its ventral
surface is highly convex; its dorsal surface,
on the contrary, is almost flat. When the
larva is floating on the liquid honey, it is as
it were steadied by the excessive development
of the ventral surface immersed in the honey,
which enables it to acquire an equilibrium
that is of the greatest importance to its wel-
fare. In fact, the breathing-holes, arranged
without means of protection on either edge
of the almost flat back, are level with the
viscous liquid and would be choked by that
sticky glue at the least false movement, if a
suitably ballasted hold did not prevent the
larva from heeling over. Never was corpu-
lent abdomen of greater use: thanks to this
plumpness of the belly the larva is protected
from asphyxia.

Its segments number thirteen, including
in

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

the head. This head is pale, soft, like the
rest of the body, and very small compared
with the rest of the creature. The antennae
are excessively short and consist of two
cylindrical joints. I have vainly looked for
the eyes with a powerful magnifying-glass.
In its former state, the larva, subject to
strange migrations, obviously needs the sense
of sight and is provided with four ocelli. In
its present state, of what use would eyes be
to it at the bottom of a clay cell, where the
most absolute darkness prevails?

The labrum is prominent, is not distinctly
divided from the head, is curved in front and
edged with pale and very fine bristles. The
mandibles are small, reddish toward the tips,
blunt and hollowed out spoonwise on the in-
ner side. Below the mandibles is a fleshy
part crowned with two very tiny nipples.
This is the lower lip with its two palpi. It
is flanked right and left by two other parts,
likewise fleshy, adhering closely to the lip
and bearing at the tip a rudimentary palp
consisting of two or three very tiny joints.
These two parts are the future jaws. All
this apparatus of lips and jaws is completely
immobile and in a rudimentary condition
which is difficult to describe. They are bud-
ding organs, still faint and embryonic. The

112

Hypermetamorphosis

labrum and the complicated lamina formed
by the lip and the jaws leave between them
a narrow slit in which the mandibles
work.

The legs are merely vestiges, for, though
they consist of three tiny cylindrical joints,
they are barely a fiftieth of an inch in length.
The creature is unable to make use of them,
not only in the liquid honey upon which it
lives, but even on a solid surface. If we
take the larva from the cell and place it on
a hard substance, to observe it more readily,
we see that the inordinate protuberance of
the abdomen, by lifting the thorax from the
ground, prevents the legs1 from finding a
support. Lying on its side, the only possible
position because of its conformation, the
larva remains motionless or only makes a
few lazy, wriggling movements of the ab-
domen, without ever stirring its feeble limbs,
which for that matter could not assist it in
any way. In short, the tiny creature of the
first stage, so active and alert, is succeeded
by a ventripotent grub, deprived of move-
ment by its very obesity. Who would recog-
nize in this clumsy, flabby, blind, hideously
pot-bellied creature, with nothing but a sort
of stumps for legs, the elegant pigmy of but a
little while back, armour-clad, slender and
"3

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

provided with highly perfected organs for
performing its perilous journeys?

Lastly, we count nine pairs of stigmata :
one pair on the mesothorax and the rest on
the first eight segments of the abdomen.
The last pair, that on the eighth abdominal
segment, consists of stigmata so small that
to detect them we have to gather their posi-
tion by that in the succeeding states of the
larva and to pass a very patient magnifying-
glass along the direction of the other pairs.
These are as yet but vestigial stigmata. The
others are fairly large, with pale, round, flat
edges.

If in its first form the Sitaris-larva is or-
ganized for action, to obtain possession of
the coveted cell, in its second form it is or-
ganized solely to digest the provisions ac-
quired. Let us take a glance at its internal
structure and in particular at its digestive
apparatus. Here is a strange thing: this
apparatus, in which the hoard of honey
amassed by the Anthophora is to be engulfed,
is similar in every respect to that of the adult
Sitaris, who possibly never takes food. We
find in both the same very short oesophagus,
the same chylific ventricle, empty in the per-
fect insect, distended in the larva with an
abundant orange-coloured pulp; in both the
114

Hypermetamorphosis

same gall-bladders, four in number, connected
with the rectum by one of their extremities.
Like the perfect insect, the larva is devoid
of salivary glands or any other similar ap-
paratus. Its nervous system comprises eleven
ganglia, not counting the oesophageal collar,
whereas in the perfect insect there are only
seven: three for the thorax, of which the last
two are contiguous, and four for the abdo-
men.

When its rations are finished the larva re-
mains a few days in a motionless condition,
ejecting from time to time a few reddish
droppings until the digestive canal is com-
pletely cleared of its orange-coloured pulp.
Then the creature contracts itself, huddles it-
self together; and before long* we see coming
detached from its body a transparent, slightly
crumpled and extremely fine pellicle, form-
ing a closed bag, in which the successive trans-
formations will take place henceforth. On
this epidermal bag, this sort of trans-
parent leather bottle, formed by the larva's
skin detached all of a piece, without a slit
of any kind, we can distinguish the several
well-preserved external organs: the head,
with its antennae, mandibles, paws and palpi;
the thoracic segments, with their vestiges of
legs; the abdomen, with its chain of breath-
"5

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

ing-holes still connected one to another by
tracheal threads.

Then beneath this pellicle, which is so deli-
cate that it can hardly bear the most cautious
touch, we see a soft, white mass taking shape,
a mass which in a few hours acquires a firm,
horny consistency and a vivid yellow hue.
The transformation is now complete. Let us
tear the fine gauze bag enclosing the organ-
ism which has just come into being and direct
our investigation to this third form of the
Sitaris-larva.

It is an inert, segmented body, with an
oval outline, a horny consistency, just like
that of puae and chrysalids, and a bright-
yellow colour, which we can best describe by
likening it to that of a lemon-drop. Its up-
per surface forms a double inclined plane
with a very blunt ridge; its lower surface is
at first flat, but, as the result of evaporation,
becomes more concave daily, leaving a pro-
jecting rim all around its oval outline.
Lastly, its two extremities or poles are
slightly flattened. The major axis of the
lower surface averages half an inch in length
and the minor axis a quarter of an inch.

At the cephalic pole of this body is a sort
of mask, modelled roughly on the head of
the larva, and at the opposite pole a small
116

Hypermetamorphosis

circular disk deeply wrinkled at the centre.
The three segments that come after the head
bear each a pair of very minute knobs, hardly
visible without the lens : these are, to the legs
of the larva in its previous form, what the
cephalic mask is to the head of the same
larva. They are not organs, but indications,
landmarks placed at the points where these
organs will appear later. On either side we
count nine stigmata, set as before on the
mesothorax and the first eight abdominal
segments. The first eight breathing-holes
are dark brown and stand out plainly against
the yellow colour of the body. They consist
of small, shiny, conical knobs, perforated at
the top with a round hole. The ninth
stigma, though fashioned like the others, is
ever so much smaller; it cannot be distin-
guished without the lens.

The anomaly, already so manifest in the
change from the first form to the second,
becomes even more so here; and we do not
know what name to give to an organism
without a standard of comparison, not only
in the order of Beetles, but in the whole class
of insects. While, on the one hand, this
organism offers many points of resemblance
to the pupae of the Flies in its horny con-
sistency, in the complete immobility of its
117

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

various segments, in the all but absolute ab-
sence of relief which would enable one to
distinguish the parts of the perfect insect;
while, on the other hand, it approximates to
the chrysalids, because the creature, to attain
this condition, has to shed its skin, as the
caterpillars do, it differs from the pupa
because it has for covering not the surface
skin, which has become horny, but rather one
of the inner skins of the larva ; and it differs
from the chrysalids by the absence of mould-
ings which in the latter betray the appendages
of the perfect insect. Lastly, it differs yet
more profoundly from the pupa and the chry-
salis because from both these organisms the
perfect insect springs straightway, whereas
that which follows what we are considering is
simply a larva like that which went before.
I shall suggest, to denote this curious organ-
ism, the term pseudochrysalis; and I shall
reserve the names primary larva, secondary
larva and tertiary larva to denote, in a couple
of words, each of the three forms under
which the Sitares possess all the character-
istics of larvae.

Although the Sitaris, on assuming the form
of the pseudochrysalis, is transfigured out-
wardly to the point of baffling the science of
entomological phases, this is not so in-
118

Hypermetamorphosis

wardly. I have at every season of the year
examined the viscera of the pseudochrysa-
lids, which generally remain stationary for
a whole year, and I have never observed
other forms among their organs than those
which we find in the secondary larva. The
nervous system has undergone no change.
The digestive apparatus is absolutely void
and, because of its emptiness, appears only
as a thin cord, sunk, lost amid the adipose
sacs. The stercoral intestine has more
substance; its outlines are better defined.
The four gall-bladders are always perfectly
distinct. The adipose tissue is more abund-
ant than ever: it forms by itself the whole
contents of the pseudochrysalis, for in the
matter of volume the insignificant threads of
the nervous system and the digestive ap-
paratus count for nothing. It is the reserve
upon which life must draw for its future
labours.

A few Sitares remain hardly a month in
the pseudochrysalis stage. The other
phases are achieved in the course of August;
and at the beginning of September the insect
attains the perfect state. But as a rule the
development is slower; the pseudochrysalis
jroes through the winter; and it is not, at
the earliest, until June in the second year that
119

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

the final transformations take place. Let us
pass in silence over this long period of repose,
during which the Sitaris, in the form of a
pseudochrysalis, slumbers at the bottom of
its cell, in a sleep as lethargic as that of a
germ in its egg, and come to the months of
June and July in the following year, the
period of what we might call a second hatch-
ing.

The pseudochrysalis is still enclosed in
the delicate pouch formed of the skin of the
secondary larva. Outside, nothing fresh has
happened; but important changes have taken
place inside. I have said that the pseudo-
chrysalis displayed an upper surface arched
like a hog's back and a lower surface at first
flat and then more and more concave. The
sides of the double inclined plane of the up-
per or dorsal surface also share in this de-
pression occasioned by the evaporation of
the fluid constituents ; and a time comes when
these sides are so depressed that a section
of the pseudochrysalis through a plane per-
pendicular to its axis would be represented
by a curvilinear triangle with blunted corners
and inwardly convex sides. This is the ap-
pearance displayed by the pseudochrysalis
during the winter and spring.

But in June it has lost this withered ap-

120

Hypermetamorphosis

pearance; it represents a perfect balloon, an
ellipsoid of which the sections perpendicular
to the major axis are circles. Something has
also come to pass of greater importance than
this expansion, which may be compared with
that which we obtain by blowing into a
wrinkled bladder. The horny integuments
of the pseudochrysalis have become de-
tached from their contents, all of a piece,
without a break, just as happened the year
before with the skin of the secondary larva;
and they thus form a fresh vesicular enve-
lope, free from any adhesion to the contents
and itself enclosed in the pouch formed of the
secondary larva's skin. Of these two bags
without outlet, one of which is enclosed
within the other, the outer is transparent,
flexible, colourless and extremely delicate;
the second is brittle, almost as delicate as the
first, but much less translucent because of its
yellow colouring, which makes it resemble
a thin flake of amber. On this second sac
are found the stigmatic warts, the thoracic
studs and so forth, which we rroted on the
pseudochrysalis. Lastly, within its cavity
we catch a glimpse of something the shape
of which at once recalls to mind the secondary
larva.

And indeed, if we tear the double envelope

121

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

which protects this mystery, we recognize,
not without astonishment, that we have be-
fore our eyes a new larva similar to the
secondary. After one of the strangest
transformations, the creature has gone back
to its second form. To describe the new
larva is unnecessary, for it differs from the
former in only a few slight details. In both
there is the same head, wi-th its various ap-
pendages barely outlined; the same vestiges
of legs, the same stumps transparent as
crystal. The tertiary larva differs from the
secondary only by its abdomen, which is less
fat, owing to the absolute emptiness of the
digestive apparatus; by a double chain of
fleshy cushions extending along each side;
by the rim of the stigmata, crystalline and
slightly projecting, but less so than in the
pseudochrysalis; by the ninth pair of breath-
ing-holes, hitherto rudimentary but now al-
most as large as the rest; lastly by the man-
dibles ending in a very sharp point. Evicted
from its twofold sheath, the tertiary larva
makes only very lazy movements of con-
traction and dilation, without being able to
advance, without even being able to main-
tain its normal position, because of the weak-
ness of its legs. It usually remains motion-
less, lying on its side, or else displays its

122

Hypermetamorphosis

drowsy activity merely by feeble, wormlike
movements.

By dint of these alternate contractions and
dilations, indolent though they be, the larva
nevertheless contrives to turn right round in
the sort of shell with which the pseudo-
chrysalidal integuments provide it, when by
accident it finds itself placed head down-
wards; and this operation is all the more dif-
ficult inasmuch as the larva almost exactly
fills the cavity of the shell. The creature
contracts, bends its head under its belly and
slides its front half over its hinder half by
wormlike movements so slow that the lens
can hardly detect them. In less than a
quarter of an hour the larva, at first turned
upside down, finds itself again head upper-
most. I admire this gymnastic feat, but
have some difficulty in understanding it, so
small is the space which the larva, when at
rest in its cell, leaves unoccupied, compared
with that which we should be justified in ex-
pecting from the possibility of such a re-
versal. The larva does not long enjoy the
privilege which enables it to resume inside
its cell, when this is moved from its original
position, the attitude which it prefers, that
is to say, with its head up.

Two days, at most, after its first appear-
123

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

ance it relapses into an inertia as complete as
that of the pseudochrysalis. On removing it
from its amber shell, we see that its faculty
of contracting or dilating at will is so com-
pletely paralysed that the stimulus of a needle
is unable to provoke it, though the integu-
ments have retained all their flexibility and
though no perceptible change has occurred
in the organization. The irritability, there-
fore, which in the pseudochrysalis is sus-
pended for a whole year, reawakens for a
moment, to relapse instantly into the deep-
est torpor. This torpor will be partly dis-
pelled only at the moment of the passing
into the nymphal stage, to return immediately
afterwards and last until the insect attains
the perfect state.

Further, on holding larvae of the third
form, or nymphs enclosed in their cells, in
an inverted position, in glass tubes, we never
see them regain an erect position, however
long we continue the experiment. The per-
fect insect itself, during the time that it is
enclosed in the shell, cannot regain it, for
lack of the requisite flexibility. This total
absence of movement in the tertiary larva,
when a few days old, and also in the nymph,
together with the smallness of the space left
free in the shell, would necessarily lead to
124

Hypermetamorphosis

the conviction, if we had not witnessed the
first moments of the tertiary larva, that it is
absolutely impossible for the creature to turn
right round.

And now see to what curious inferences
this lack of observations made at the due
moment may lead us. We collect some
pseudochrysalids and heap them in a glass
jar in all possible positions. The favour-
able season arrives; and with very legitimate
astonishment we find that, in a large num-
ber of shells, the larva or nymph occupies
an inverted position, that is to say, the
head is turned towards the anal extremity
of the shell. In vain we watch these re-
versed bodies for any indications of move-
ment; in vain we place the shells in every
imaginable position, to see if the creature will
turn round; in vain, once more, we ask our-
selves where the free space is which this
turning would demand. The illusion is
complete: I have been taken in by it my-
self; and for two years I indulged in the
wildest conjectures to account for this lack
of correspondence between the shell and its
contents, to explain, in short, a fact which
is inexplicable once the propitious moment
has passed.

On the natural site, in the cells of the
125

The Glow- Worm and) Other Beetles

Anthophora, this apparent anomaly never
occurs, because the secondary larva, when
on the point of transformation into the
pseudochrysalis, is always careful to place
its head uppermost, according as the axis of
the cell more or less nearly approaches the
vertical. But, when the pseudochrysalids
are placed higgledy-piggledy in a box or jar,
all those which are upside down will later
contain inverted larva? or nymphs.

After four changes of form so profound
as those which I have described, one might
reasonably expect to find some modifications
of the internal organization. Nevertheless,
nothing is changed; the nervous system is the
same in the tertiary larva as in the earlier
phases; the reproductive organs do not yet
show; and there is no need to mention the
digestive apparatus, which remains invari-
able even in the perfect insect.

The duration of the tertiary larva is a
bare four or five weeks, which is also about
the duration of the second. In July, when
the secondary larva passes into the pseudo-
chrysalid stage, the tertiary larva passes into
the nymphal stage, still inside the double
vesicular envelope. Its skin splits along the
back in front; and with the assistance of a
few feeble contractions, which reappear at
126

Hypermetamorphosis

this juncture, it is thrust behind in the shape
of a little ball. There is therefore nothing
here that differs from what happens in the
other Beetles.

Nor does the nymph which succeeds this
tertiary larva present any peculiarity: it is
the perfect insect in swaddling-bands, yellow-
ish white, with its various external members,
clear as crystal, displayed under the ab-
domen. A few weeks elapse, during which
the nymph partly dons the livery of the
adult state ; and, in about a month, the insect
moults for a last time, in the usual manner,
in order to attain its final form. The wing-
cases are now of a uniform yellowish white,
as are the wings, the abdomen and the greater
part of the legs; very nearly all the rest of
the body is of a glossy black. In the space
of twenty-four hours, the wing-cases assume
their half-black, half-russet colouring; the
wings grow darker; and the legs finish turn-
ing black. This done, the adult organism
is completed. However, the Sitaris remains
still a fortnight in the intact shell, ejecting
at intervals white droppings of uric acid,
which it pushes back together with the shreds
of its last two sloughs, those of the tertiary
larva and of the nymph. Lastly, about the
middle of August, it tears the double bag
127

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

that contains it, pierces the lid of the Antho-
phora's cell, enters a corridor and appears
outside in quest of the other sex.

I have told how, while digging in search
of the Sitaris, I found two cells belonging to
Meloe cicatricosus. One contained an An-
thophora's egg; with this egg was a yellow
Louse, the primary larva of the Meloe. The
history of this tiny creature we know. The
second cell also was full of honey. On the
sticky liquid floated a little white larva, about
a sixth of an inch in length and very differ-
ent from the other little white larvae be-
longing to Sitares. The rapid fluctuations
of the abdomen showed that it was eagerly
drinking the strong-scented nectar collected
by the Bee. This larva was the young Meloe
in the second period of its development.

I was not able to preserve these two
precious cells, which I had opened wide to
examine the contents. On my return from
Carpentras, I found that their honey had
been spilt by the motion of the carriage and
that their inhabitants were dead. On the
25th of June, a fresh visit to the nests of the
Anthophorae furnished me with two larvae
like the foregoing, but much larger. One of
them was on the point of finishing its store
of honey, the other still had nearly half left.
128

Hypermetamorphosis

The first was put in a place of safety with a
thousand precautions, the second was at once
immersed in alcohol.

These larvae are blind, soft, fleshy, yel-
lowish white, covered with a fine down visible
only under the lens, curved into a fish-hook
like the larvae of the Lamellicorns, to which
they bear a certain resemblance in their ge-
neral configuration. The segments, includ-
ing the head, number thirteen, of which nine
are provided with breathing-holes with a
pale, oval rim. These are the mesothorax
and the first eight abdominal segments. As
in the Sitaris-larvae, the last pair of stigmata,
that of the eighth segment of the abdomen,
is less developed than the rest.

The head is horny, of a light brown
colour. The epistoma is edged with brown.
The labrum is prominent, white and trape-
zoidal. The mandibles are black, strong,
short, obtuse, only slightly curved, sharp-
edged and furnished each with a broad tooth
on the inner side. The maxillary and labial
palpi are brown and shaped like very small
studs with two or three joints to them. The
antennae, inserted just at the base of the
mandibles, are brown, and consist of three
sections: the first is thick and globular; the
two others are much smaller in diameter and
129

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

cylindrical. The legs are short, but fairly
strong, able to serve the creature for craw-
ling or digging; they end in a strong black
claw. The length of the larva when fully
developed is one inch.

As far as I can judge from the dissection
of the specimen preserved in alcohol, whose
viscera were affected by being kept too long
in that liquid, the nervous system consists of
eleven ganglia, not counting the oesophageal
collar; and the digestive apparatus does not
differ perceptibly from that of an adult Oil-
beetle.

The larger of the two larvae of the 25th
of June, placed in a test-tube with what re-
mained of its provisions, assumed a new form-
during the first week of the following month.
Its skin split along the front dorsal half and,
after being pushed half back, left partly un-
covered a pseudochrysalis bearing the closest
analogy with that *of the Sitares. Newport
did not see the larva of the Oil-beetle in its
second form, that which it displays when it
is eating the mess of honey hoarded by the
Bees, but he did see its moulted skin half-
covering the pseudochrysalis which I have
just mentioned. From the sturdy mandibles
and the legs armed with a powerful claw
which he observed on this moulted skin, New-
130

Hypermetamorphosis

port assumed that, instead of remaining in
the same Anthophora-cell, the larva, which
is capable of burrowing, passes from one cell
to another in search of additional nourish-
ment. This suspicion seems to me to be
well-founded, for the size which the larva
finally attains exceeds the proportions which
the small quantity of honey enclosed in a sin-
gle cell would lead us to expect.

Let us go back to the pseudochrysalis.
It is, as in the Sitares, an inert body, of a
horny consistency, amber-coloured and
divided into thirteen segments, including the
head. Its length is 20 millimetres.1 It is
slightly curved into an arc, highly convex on
the dorsal surface, almost flat on the ventral
surface and edged with a projecting fillet
which marks the division between the two.
The head is only a sort of mask on which
certain features are vaguely carved in still
relief, corresponding with the future parts of
the head. On the thoracic segments are
three pairs of tubercles, corresponding with
the legs of the recent larva and the future
insect. Lastly, there are nine pairs of stig-
mata, one pair on the mesothorax and the
eight following pairs on the first eight seg-
ments of the abdomen. The last pair is

1 .787 inch. — Translator's Note.
l3l

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

rather smaller than the rest, a peculiarity
which we have already noted in the larva
which precedes the pseudochrysalis.

On comparing the pseudochrysalids of
the Oil-beetles and Sitares, we observe a
most striking similarity between the two.
The same structure occurs in both, down to
the smallest details. We find on either side
the same cephalic masks, the same tubercles
occupying the place of the legs, the same dis-
tribution and the same number of stigmata
and, lastly, the same colour, the same rigidity
of the integuments. The only points of dif-
ference are in the general appearance, which
is not the same in the two pseudochrysalids,
and in the covering formed by the cast skin
of the late larva. In the Sitares, in fact,
this cast skin constitutes a closed bag, a pouch
completely enveloping the pseudochrysalis;
in the Oil-beetles, on the contrary, it is split
down the back and pushed to the rear and,
consequently, only half-covers the pseudo-
chrysalis.

The post-mortem examination of the only
pseudochrysalis in my possession showed me
that, similarly to that which happens in the
Sitares, no change occurred in the organi-
zation of the viscera, notwithstanding the
profound transformations which take place
132

Hypermetamorphosis

externally. In the midst of innumerable lit-
tle sacs of adipose tissue is buried a thin
thread in which we easily recognize the es-
sential features of the digestive apparatus,
both of the preceding larval form and of the
perfect insect. As for the medullary cord
of the abdomen, it consists, as in the larva,
of eight ganglia. In the perfect insect it
comprises only four.

I could not say positively how long the
Oil-beetle remains in the pseudochrysalid
form; but, if we consider the very complete
analogy between the evolution of the Oil-
beetles and that of the Sitares, there is rea-
son to believe that a few pseudochrysalids
complete their transformation in the same
year, while others, in greater numbers, re-
main stationary for a whole year and do
not attain the state of the perfect insect
until the following spring. This is also
the opinion expressed by Newport.

Be this as it may, I found at the end of
August one of these pseudochrysalids which
had already attained the nymphal stage. It
is with the help of this precious capture that
I shall be able to finish the story of the Oil-
beetle's development. The horny integu-
ments of the pseudochrysalis are split along
a fissure which includes the whole ventral
133

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

surface and the whole of the head and runs
up the back of the thorax. This cast skin,
which is stiff and keeps its shape, is half-
enclosed, as was the pseudochrysalis, in the
skin shed by the secondary larva. Lastly,
through the fissure, which divides it almost
in two, a Meloe-nymph half-emerges; so
that, to all appearances, the pseudochrysalis
has been followed immediately by the nymph,
which does not happen with the Sitares, which
pass from the first of these two states to the
second only by assuming an intermediary
form closely resembling that of the larva
which eats the store of honey.

But these appearances are deceptive, for,
on removing the nymph from the split sheath
formed by the integuments of the pseudo-
chrysalis, we find, at the bottom of this
sheath, a third cast skin, the last of those
which the creature has so far rejected. This
skin is even now adhering to the nymph by
a few tracheal filaments. If we soften it
in water, we easily recognize that it possesses
an organization almost identical with that
which preceded the pseudochrysalis. In the
latter case only, the mandibles and the legs
are not so robust. Thus, after passing
through the pseudochrysalid stage, the Oil-
134

Hypermetamorphosis

beetles for some time resume the preceding
form, almost without modification.

The nymph comes next. It presents no
peculiarities. The only nymph that I have
reared attained the perfect insect state at the
end of September. Under ordinary condi-
tions would the adult Oil-beetle have emerged
from her cell at this period? I do not think
so, since the pairing and egg-laying do not
take place until the beginning of spring. She
would no doubt have spent the autumn and
the winter in the Anthophora's dwelling,
only leaving it in the spring following. It
is even probable that, as a rule, the develop-
ment is even slower and that the Oil-beetles,
like the Sitares, for the most part spend the
cold season in the pseudochrysalid state, a
state well-adapted to the winter torpor, and
do not achieve their numerous forms until
the return of the warm weather.

The Sitares and Meloes belong to the
same family, that of the Meloidae.1 Their
strange transformations must probably ex-
tend throughout the group ; indeed, I had the
good fortune to discover a third example,
which I have not hitherto been able to study

1 Later classifiers place both in the family of the Can-
tharidx. — Translator's Note.
135

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

in all its details after twenty-five years of
investigation. On six occasions, no oftener,
during this long period I have set eyes on
the pseudochrysalis which I am about to de-
scribe. Thrice I obtained it from old
Chalicodoma-nests built upon a stone, nests
which I at first attributed to the Chalicodoma
of the Walls and which I now refer with
greater probability to the Chalicodoma of
the Sheds. I once extracted it from the gal-
leries bored by some wood-eating larva in
the trunk of a dead wild pear-tree, galleries
afterwards utilized for the cells of an Osmia,
I do not know which. Lastly, I found a pair
of them in between the row of cocoons of
the Three-pronged Osmia (O. tridentata,
DUF.), who provides a home for her larvae
in a channel dug in the dry bramble stems.
The insect in question therefore is a parasite
of the Osmiae. When I extract it from the
old Chalicodoma-nests, I have to attribute
it not to this Bee but to one of the Osmia:
(O. tricornis and O. latreillii) who, when
making their nests, utilize the old galleries
of the Mason-bee.

The most nearly complete instances that I
have seen furnishes me with the following
data : the pseudochrysalis is very closely en-
veloped in the skin of the secondary larva, a
136

Hypermetamorphosis

skin consisting of fine transparent pellicle,
without any rent whatever. This is the
pouch of the Sitaris, save that it lies in imme-
diate contact with the body enclosed. On
this jacket we distinguish three pairs of tiny
legs, reduced to short vestiges, to stumps.
The head is in place, showing quite percep-
tibly the fine mandibles and the other parts of
the mouth. There is no trace of eyes. Each
side has a white edging of shrivelled tracheae,
running from one stigmatic orifice to an-
other.

Next comes the pseudochrysalis, horny,
currant-red, cylindrical, cone-shaped at both
ends, slightly convex on the dorsal surface
and concave on the ventral surface. It is
covered with delicate, prominent spots,
sprinkled very close together; it takes a lens
to show them. It is i centimetre long and
4 millimetres wide.1 We can distinguish a
large knob of a head, on which the mouth is
vaguely outlined; three pairs of little shiny
brown specks, which are the hardly per-
ceptible vestiges of the legs; and on each
side a row of eight black specks, which are the
stigmatic orifices. The first speck stands by
itself, in front ; the seven others, divided from
the first by an empty space, form a continu-

1 .393 x .156 inch. — Translator's Note.
137

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

ous row. Lastly, at the opposite end is a
little pit, the sign of the anal pore.

Of the six pseudochrysalids which a lucky
accident placed at my disposal, four were
dead; the other two were furnished by Zo-
nitis mutica. This justified my forecast,
which from the first, with analogy for my
guide, made me attribute these curious or-
ganizations to the genus Zonitis. The
meloidal parasite of the Osmiae, therefore,
is recognized. We have still to make the
acquaintance of the primary larva, which
gets itself carried by the Osmia into the cell
full of honey, and the tertiary larva, the one
which, at a given moment, must be found con-
tained in the pseudochrysalis, a larva which
will be succeeded by the nymph.

Let us recapitulate the strange metamor-
phoses which I have sketched. Every
Beetle-larva, before attaining the nymphal
stage, undergoes a greater or smaller num-
ber of moults, of changes of skin; but these
moults, which are intended to favour the de-
velopment of the larva by ridding it of co-
vering that has become too tight for it, in no
way alter its external shape. After any
moult that it may have undergone, the larva
retains the same characteristics. If it begin
by being tough, it will not become tender; if
138

Hypermetamorphosis

it be equipped with legs, it will not be de-
prived of them later; if it be provided with
ocelli, it will not become blind. It is true
that the diet of these non-variable larvae re-
mains the same throughout their duration,
as do the conditions under which they are
destined to live.

But suppose that this diet varies, that the
environment in which they are called upon
to live changes, that the circumstances ac-
companying their development are liable to
great changes: it then becomes evident that
the moult may and even must adapt the or-
ganization of the larva to these new con-
ditions of existence. The primary larva of
the Sitaris lives on the body of the Anthro-
phora. Its perilous peregrinations demand
agility of movement, long-sighted eyes and
masterly balancing-appliances; it has, in fact,
a slender shape, ocelli, legs and special organs
adapted to averting a fall. Once inside the
Bee's cell, it has to destroy the egg; its sharp
mandibles, curved into hooks, will fulfil this
office. This done, there is a change of diet:
after the Anthophora's egg the larva pro-
ceeds to consume the ration of honey. The
environment in which it has to live also
changes: instead of balancing itself on a
hair of the Anthophora, it has now to float
139

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

on a sticky fluid; instead of living in broad
daylight, it has to remain plunged in the pro-
foundest darkness. Its sharp mandibles
must therefore become hollowed into a spoon
that they may scoop up the honey; its legs,
its cirri, its balancing-appliances must dis-
appear as useless and even harmful, since all
these organs can only involve the larva in
serious danger, by causing it to stick in the
honey; its slender shape, its horny in-
teguments, its ocelli, being no longer neces-
sary in a dark cell where movement is im-
possible, where there are no rough en-
counters to be feared, may likewise give place
to complete blindness, to soft integuments,
to a heavy, slothful form. This transfigura-
tion, which everything shows to be indis-
pensable to the life of the larva, is effected
by a simple moult.

We do not so plainly perceive the necessity
of the subsequent forms, which are so ab-
normal that nothing like them is known in
all the rest of the insect class. The larva
which is fed on honey first adopts a false
chrysalid appearance and afterwards goes
back to its earlier form, though the necessity
for these transformations escapes us entirely.
Here I am obliged to record the facts and to
leave the task of interpreting them to the
140

Hypermetamorphosis

future. The larva of the Meloidae, there-
fore, undergo four moults before attaining
the nymphal state; and after each moult
their characteristics alter most profoundly.
During all these external changes, the in-
ternal organization remains unchangingly the
same; and it is only at the moment of the
nymph's appearance that the nervous system
becomes concentrated and that the reproduct-
ive organs are developed, absolutely as in
the other Beetles.

Thus, to the ordinary metamorphoses
which make a Beetle pass successively
through the stages of larva, nymph and per-
fect insect, the Meloidae add others which
repeatedly transform the larva's exterior,
without introducing any modification of its
viscera. This mode of development, which
preludes the customary entomological forms
by the multiple transfigurations of the larva,
certainly deserves a special name: I sug-
gest that of hypermetamorphosis.

Let us now recapitulate the more promi-
nent facts of this essay.

The Sitares, the Meloes, the Zonites and
apparently other Meloidae, possibly all of
them, are in their earliest infancy parasites
of the harvesting Bees.

The larva of the Meloidae, before reach-
141

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

ing the nymphal state, passes through four
forms, which I call the primary larva, the
secondary larva, the pseudochry salts and the
tertiary larva. The passage from one of
these forms to the next is effected by a simple
moult, without any changes in the viscera.

The primary larva is leathery and settles
on the Bee's body. Its object is to get itself
carried into a cell filled with honey. On
reaching the cell, it devours the Bee's egg;
and its part is played.

The secondary larva is soft and differs
completely from the primary larva in its ex-
ternal characteristics. It feeds upon the
honey contained in the usurped cell.

The pseudochrysalis is a body deprived
of all movement and clad in horny in-
teguments which may be compared with those
of the pupae and chrysalids. On these in-
teguments we see a cephalic mask without
distinct or movable parts, six tubercles in-
dicating the legs and nine pairs of breathing-
holes. In the Sitares the pseudochrysalis is
enclosed in a sort of sealed pouch and in the
Zonites in a tight-fitting bag formed of the
skin of the secondary larva. In the Meloes
it is simply half-sheathed in the split skin of
the secondary larva.

The tertiary larva reproduces almost ex-
142

Hypermetamorphosis

actly the peculiarities of the second; it is en-
closed, in the Sitares and probably also the
Zonites, in a double vesicular envelope
formed of the skin of the secondary larva
and the slough of the pseudochrysalis. In
the Meloes, it is half-enclosed in the split in-
teguments of the pseudochrysalis, even as
these, in their turn, are half-enclosed in the
skin of the secondary larva.

From the tertiary larva onwards the
metamorphoses follow their habitual course,
that is to say, this larva becomes a nymph;
and this nymph the perfect insect.

143

CHAPTER VI

CEROCONfcE, MYLABRES AND ZONITES

ALL has not been told concerning the
Meloidae, those strange parasites, some
of which, the Sitares and the Oil-beetles,
attach themselves, like the tiniest of Lice,
to the fleece of various Bees to get them-
selves carried into the cell where they
will destroy the egg and afterwards feed
upon the ration of honey. A most unex-
pected discovery, made a few hundred yards
from my door, has warned me once again
how dangerous it is to generalize. To take
it for granted, as the mass of data hitherto
collected seemed to justify us in doing, that
all the Meloidae of our country usurp the
stores of honey accumulated by the Bees,
was surely a most judicious and natural ge-
neralization. Many have accepted it with-
out hesitation; and I for my part was one
of them. For on what are we to base our
conviction \vhen we imagine that we are
stating a law? We think to take our stand
upon the general; and we plunge into the
144

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

quicksands of error. And behold, the law
of the Meloidae has to be struck off the
statutes, a fate common to many others, as
this chapter will prove.

On the 1 6th of July, 1883, I was digging,
with my son Emile, in the sandy heap where,
a few days earlier, I had been observing the
labours and the surgery of the Mantis-killing
Tachytes. My purpose was to collect a few
cocoons of this Digger-wasp. The cocoons
were turning up in^ abundance under my
pocket-trowel, when Emile presented me with
an unknown object. Absorbed in my task
of collection, I slipped the find into my box
without examining it further than with a
rapid glance. We left the spot. Half-way
home, the ardour of my search became as-
suaged; and a thought of the problematical
object, so negligently dropped into the box
among the cocoons, flashed across my mind.

" Hullo 1" I said to myself. "Suppose
it were that? Why not? But, no, yes, it
is that; that's just what it is!"

Then, suddenly turning to Emile, who was
rather surprised by this soliloquy:

" My boy," I said, " you have had a mag-
nificent find. It's a pseudochrysalis of the
Meloidae. It's a document of incalculable
value; you've struck a fresh vein in the ex-
145

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

traordinary records of these creatures. Let
us look at it closely and at once."

The thing was taken from the box, dusted
by blowing on it and carefully examined. I
really had before my eyes the pseudo-
chrysalis of some Meloid. Its shape was
unfamiliar to me. No matter: I was an
old hand and could not mistake its source.
Everything assured me that I was on the
track of an insect that rivalled the Sitares
and the Oil-beetles in the strangeness of its
transformations; and, what was a still more
precious fact, its occurrence amid the burrows
of the Mantis-killer told me that its habits
would be wholly different.

" It's very hot, my poor Emile ; we are
both of us pretty done. Never mind: let's
go back to our sand-hill and dig and have
another search. I must have the larva that
comes before the pseudochrysalis; I must, if
possible, have the insect that comes out of
it."

Success responded amply to our zeal. We
found a goodly number of pseudochrysalids.
More often still, we unearthed larvae which
were busy eating the Mantes, the rations of
the Tachytes. Are these really the larvae
that turn into the pseudochrysalids? It
seems very probable, but there is room for
146

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

doubt. Rearing them at home will dispel
the mists of probability and replace them by
the light of certainty. But that is all : I have
not a vestige of the perfect insect to inform
me of the nature of the parasite. The fu-
ture, let us hope, will fill this gap. Such was
the result of the first trench opened in the
heap of sand. Later searches enriched my
harvest a little, without furnishing me with
fresh data.

Let us now proceed to examine my double
find. And first of all the pseudochrysalis,
which put me on the alert. It is a motion-
less, rigid body, of a waxen yellow, smooth,
shiny, curved like a fish-hook towards the
head, which is inflected. Under a very
powerful magnifying-glass the surface is seen
to be strewn with very tiny points which are
slightly raised and shinier than the surface.
There are thirteen segments, including the
head. The dorsal surface is convex, the
ventral surface flat. A blunt ridge divides
the two surfaces. The three thoracic seg-
ments bear each a pair of tiny conical nipples,
of a deep rusty red, signs of the future legs.
The stigmata are very distinct, appearing as
specks of a deeper red than the rest of the
integuments. There is one pair, the largest,
on the second segment of the thorax, almost
147

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

on the line dividing it from the first segment.
Then follow eight pairs, one on each seg-
ment of the abdomen except the last, making
in all nine pairs of stigmata. The last pair,
that of the eighth abdominal segment, is the
smallest.

The anal extremity displays no peculiarity.
The cephalic mask comprises eight cone-
shaped tubercles, dark red like the tubercles
of the legs. Six of these are arranged in two
lateral rows ; the others are between the two
rows. In each row of three nipples, the one
in the middle is the largest; it no doubt cor-
responds with the mandibles. The length of
this organism varies greatly, fluctuating be-
tween 8 and 15 millimetres.1 Its width is
from 3 to 4 millimetres.2

Apart from the general configuration, it
will be seen that we have here the strikingly
characteristic appearance of the pseudo-
chrysalids of the Sitares, Oil-beetles and
Zonites. There are the same rigid in-
teguments, of the red of a cough-lozenge or
virgin wax; the same cephalic mask, in which
the future mouth-parts are represented by
faintly marked tubercles; the same thoracic
studs, which are the vestiges of the legs ; the

l.jia to .585 inch. — Translator's Note.
2.ii7 to .156 inch. — Translator's Note.
148

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

same distribution of the stigmata. I was
therefore firmly convinced that the parasite
of the Mantis-hunters could only be a
Meloid.

Let us also record the description of the
strange larva found devouring the heap of
Mantes in the burrows of the Tachytes. It
is naked, blind, white, soft and sharply
curved. Its general appearance suggests the
larva of some Weevil. I should be even
more accurate if I compared it with the
secondary larva of Meloe cicatricosus, of
which I once published a drawing in the
Annales des sciences naturelles.1 If we re-
duce the dimensions considerably, we shall
have something very like the parasite of the
Tachytes.

The head is large, faintly tinged with red.
The mandibles are strong, bent into a pointed
hook, black at the tip and a fiery red at the
base. The antennae are very short, inserted
close to the root of the mandibles. I count
three joints: the first thick and globular, the
other two cylindrical, the second of these cut
short abruptly. There are twelve segments,
apart from the head, divided by fairly

1 It was his essays in this periodical, on the metamor-
phoses of the Shares and Oil-beetles, that procured Fabre
his first reputation as an entomologist. — Translator's
Note.

149

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

definite grooves. The first thoracic segment
is a little longer than the rest, with the dor-
sal plate very slightly tinged with russet,
as is the top of the head. Beginning with
the tenth segment, the body tapers a little.
A slight scalloped rim divides the dorsal
from the ventral surface.

The legs are short, white and transparent
and end in a feeble claw. A pair of stig-
mata on the mesothorax, near the line of
junction with the prothorax; a stigma on
either side of the first eight abdominal seg-
ments; in all nine pairs of stigmata, dis-
tributed like those of the pseudochrysalis.
These stigmata are small, tinged with red
and rather difficult to distinguish. Varying
in size, like the pseudochrysalid which seems
to come from it, this larva averages nearly
half an inch in length and an eighth of an
inch in width.

The six little legs, feeble though they be,
perform services which one would not at first
suspect. They embrace the Mantis that is
being devoured and hold her under the
mandibles, while the grub, lying on its side,
takes its meal at its ease. They also serve
for locomotion. On a firm surface, such as
the wooden top of my table, the larva can
move about quite well; it toddles along,
150

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

dragging its belly, with its body straight from
end to end. On fine, loose sand, change of
position becomes difficult. The grub now
bends itself into a bow; it wriggles upon its
back, upon its side; it crawls a little way; it
digs and heaves with its mandibles. But let
a less crumbling support come to its assist-
ance; and pilgrimages of some length are
not beyond its powers.

I reared my guests in a box divided into
compartments by means of paper partitions.
Each space, representing about the capacity
of a Tachytes-cell, received its layer of sand,
its pile of Mantes and its larva. And more
than one disturbance arose in this refectory,
where I had reckoned upon keeping the
banqueters isolated one from the other, each
at its special table. This larva, which had
finished its ration the day before, was dis-
covered next day in another chamber, where
it was sharing its neighbour's repast. It had
therefore climbed the partition, which for
that matter was of no great height, or else
had forced its way through some chink.
This is enough, I think, to prove that the grub
is not a strict stay-at-home, as are the larvae
of the Sitares and the Oil-beetles when de-
vouring the ration of the Anthophora.

I imagine that, in the burrows of the
151

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

Tachytes, the grub, when its heap of Mantes
is consumed, moves from cell to cell until it
has satisfied its appetite. Its subterranean
excursions cannot cover a wide range, but
they enable it to visit a few adjacent cells.
I have mentioned how greatly the Tachytes'
provision of Mantes varies.1 The smaller
rations certainly fall to the males, which are
puny dwarfs compared with their compani-
ons; the more plentiful fall to the females.
The parasitic grub to which fate has al-
lotted the scanty masculine ration has not
perhaps sufficient with this share ; it wants an
extra portion, which it can obtain by chan-
ging its cell. If it be favoured by chance,
it will eat according to the measure of
its hunger and will attain the full develop-
ment of which its race allows; if it wander
about without finding anything, it will fast
and will remain small. This would explain
the differences which I note in both the
grubs and the pseudochrysalids, differences
amounting in linear dimensions to a hundred
per cent and more. The rations, rare or
abundant according to the cells lit upon,
would determine the size of the parasite.
During the active period, the larva un-

!The essay on the Tachytes has not yet appeared in
English. It will form part of a volume entitled More
Hunting W asps.— Translator's Note.
152

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

dergoes a few moults; I have witnessed at
least one of these. The creature stripped
of its skin appears as it was before, without
any change of form. It instantly resumes
its meal, which was interrupted while the old
skin was shed; it embraces with its legs an-
other Mantis on the heap and proceeds to
nibble her. Whether simple or multiple,
this moult has nothing in common with the
renewals due to the hypermetamorphosis,
which so profoundly change the creature's
appearance.

Ten days' rearing in the partitioned box is
enough to prove how right I was when I
looked upon the parasitic larva feeding on
Mantes as the origin of the pseudochrysalis,
the object of my eager attention. The
creature, which I kept supplied with addi-
tional food as long as it accepted it, stops
eating at last. It becomes motionless, re-
tracts its head slightly and bends itself into
a hook. Then the skin splits across the head
and down the thorax. The tattered slough
is thrust back; and the pseudochrysalis ap-
pears in sight, absolutely naked. It is white
at first, as the larva was ; but by degrees and
fairly rapidly it turns to the russet hue of
virgin wax, with a brighter red at the tips
of the various tubercles which indicate the
153

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

future legs and mouth-parts. This shed-
ding of the skin, which leaves the body of the
pseudochrysalis uncovered, recalls the mode
of transformation observed in the Oil-
beetles and is different from that of the
Sitares and the Zonites, whose pseudo-
chrysalis remains wholly enveloped in the
skin of the secondary larva, a sort of bag
which is sometimes loose, sometimes tight
and always unbroken.

The mist that surrounded us at the out-
set is dispelled. This is indeed a Meloid,
a true Meloid, one of the strangest anomalies
among the parasites of its tribe. Instead
of living on the honey of a Bee, it feeds on
the skewerful of Mantes provided by a
Tachytes. The North-American naturalists
have taught us lately that honey is not always
the diet of the Blister-beetles : some Meloidae
in the United States devour the packets of
eggs laid by the Grasshoppers. This is a
legitimate acquisition on their part, not an
illegal seizure of the food-stores of others.
No one, as far as I am aware, had as yet
suspected the true parasitism of a carnivor-
ous Meloid. It is nevertheless very remark-
able to find in the Blister-beetles, on both
sides of the Atlantic, this weakness for the
flavour of Locust: one devours her eggs; the
154

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

other a representative of the order, in the
shape of the Praying Mantis and her kin.

Who will explain to me this predilection
for the Orthopteron in a tribe whose chief,
the Oil-beetle, accepts nothing but the mess
of honey? Why do insects which appear
close together in all our classifications possess
such opposite tastes? If they spring from
a common stock, how did the consumption of
flesh supplant the consumption of honey?
How did the Lamb become a Wolf? This
is the great problem which was once set us,
in an inverse form, by the Spotted Sapyga,
a honey-eating relative of the flesh-eating
Scolia.1 I submit the question to whom it
may concern.

The following year, at the beginning of
June, some of my pseudochrysalids split open
transversely behind the head and lengthwise
down the whole of the median line of the
back, except the last two or three segments.
From it emerges the tertiary larva, which,
from a simple examination with the pocket-
lens, appears to me, in its general features,
identical with the secondary larva, the one
which eats the Tachytes' provisions. It is
naked and pale-yellow, the 'colour of butter.

1 The essays on these will appear in the volume, en-
titled The Hunting Wasps, aforementioned. — Translator's
Note.

155

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

It is active and wriggles with awkward move-
ments. Ordinarily it lies upon its side, but
it can also stand in the normal position.
The creature is then trying to use its legs,
without finding sufficient purchase to enable
it to walk. A few days later, it relapses into
complete repose.

Thirteen segments, including the head,
which is large, with a quadrilateral cranium,
rounded at the sides. Short antennae, con-
sisting of three knotted joints. Powerful
curved mandibles, with two or three little
teeth at the end, of a fairly bright red.
Labial palpi rather bulky, short and with
three joints, like the antennae. The mouth-
parts, labrum, mandibles and palpi are mova-
ble and stir slightly, as though seeking food.
A small brown speck near the base of each
antenna, marking the place of the future
eyes. Prothorax wider than the segments
that come after it. These are all of one
width and are distinctly divided by a furrow
and a slight lateral rim. Legs short, trans-
parent, without a terminal claw. They are
three-jointed stumps. Pale stigmata, eight
pairs of them, placed as in the pseudochry-
salis, that is, the first and largest pair on the
line dividing the first two segments of the
thorax and the seven others on the first seven
156

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

abdominal segments. The secondary larva
and the pseudochrysalis also have a very
small stigma on the penultimate segment of
the abdomen. This stigma has disappeared
in the tertiary larva ; at least I cannot detect
it with the aid of a good magnifying-glass.

Lastly, we find the same strong mandibles
as in the secondary larva, the same feeble
legs, the same appearance of a Weevil-grub.
The movements return, but are less clearly
marked than in the primary form. The
passage through the pseudochrysalid state
has led to no change that is really worth de-
scribing. The creature, after this singular
phase, is what it was before. The Meloes
and Sitares, for that matter, behave similarly.

Then what can be the meaning of this
pseudochrysalid stage, which, when passed,
leads precisely to the point of departure?
The Meloid seems to be revolving in a circle :
it undoes what it has just done, it draws
back after advancing. The idea sometimes
occurs to me to look upon the pseudo-
chrysalis as a sort of egg of a superior or-
ganization, starting from which the insect
follows the ordinary law of entomological
phases and passes through the successive
stages of larva, nymph and perfect insect.
The first hatching, that of the normal egg,
i57

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

makes the Meloid go through the larval
dimorphism of the Anthrax and the Leuco-
spis. The primary larva finds its way to the
victuals; the secondary larva consumes them.
The second hatching, that of the pseudo-
chrysalis, reverts to the usual course, so that
the insect passes through the three customary
forms : larva, nymph, adult.

The tertiary larval stage is of brief dura-
tion, lasting about a fortnight. The larva
then sheds its skin by a longitudinal rent
along the back, as did the secondary larva,
uncovering the nymph, in which we recognize
the Beetle, the genus and species being almost
determinable by the antennas.

The second year's development turned out
badly. The few nymphs which I obtained
about the middle of June shrivelled up with-
out attaining the perfect form. Some
pseudochrysalids remained on my hands
without showing any sign of approaching
transformation. I attributed this delay to
lack of warmth. I was in fact keeping them
in the shade, on a what-not, in my study,
whereas under natural conditions they are ex-
posed to the hottest sun, beneath a layer of
sand a few inches deep. To imitate these
conditions without burying my charges, whose
progress I wished to follow comfortably, I

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

placed the pseudochrysalids that remained on
a layer of fresh sand at the bottom of a glass
receiver. Direct exposure to the sun was im-
practicable: it would have been fatal at a
period when life is subterranean. To avoid
it, I tied over the mouth of the receiver a
few thicknesses of black cloth, to represent
the natural screen of sand; and the apparatus
thus prepared was exposed for some weeks
to the most brilliant sunshine in my window.
Under the cloth cover, which, owing to its
colour, favours the absorption of heat, the
temperature, during the day-time, became
that of an oven; and yet the pseudochrysalids
persisted in remaining stationary. The end
of July was near and nothing indicated a
speedy hatching. Convinced that my at-
tempts at heating would be fruitless, I re-
placed the pseudochrysalids in the shade, on
the shelves, in glass tubes. Here they
passed a second year, still in the same con-
dition.

June returned once more and with it the
appearance of the tertiary larva, followed
by the nymph. For the second time this
stage of development was not exceeded; the
one and only nymph that I succeeded in ob-
taining shrivelled, like those of the year be-
fore. Will these two failures, arising no
»59

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

doubt from the overdry atmosphere of my
receivers, conceal from us the genus and the
species of the Mantis-eating Meloid? For-
tunately, no. The riddle is easily solved by
deduction and comparison.

The only Melodiae in my part of the
country which, though their habits are still
unknown, might correspond in size with
either the larva or the pseudochrysalis in
question are the Twelve-pointed Mylabris
and Schaeffer's Cerocoma. I find the first
in July on the flowers of the sea scabious; I
find the second at the end of May and in
June on the heads of the lies d'Hyeres ever-
lasting. This last date is best-suited to ex-
plain the presence of the parasitic larva and
its pseudochrysalis in the Tachytes' burrows
from July onwards. Moreover, the Cero-
coma is very abundant in the neighbourhood
of the sand-heaps haunted by the Tachytes,
while the Mylabris does not occur there.
Nor is this all : the few nymphs obtained have
curious antennae, ending in a full, irregular
tuft, the like of which is found only in the
antennae of the male Cerocoma. The Myla-
bris, therefore, must be eliminated; the an-
tennae, in the nymph, must be regularly
jointed, as they are in the perfect insect.
There remains the Cerocoma.
160

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

Any lingering doubts may be dispelled : by
good fortune, a friend of mine, Dr. Beaure-
gard, who is preparing a masterly work upon
the Blister-beetles, had some pseudochry-
salids of Schreber's Cerocoma in his possess-
ion. Having visited Serignan for the pur-
pose of scientific investigations, he had
searched the Tachytes' sand-heaps in my
company and taken back to Paris a few
pseudochrysalids of grubs fed on Mantes, in
order to follow their development. His at-
tempts, like mine, had miscarried; but, on
comparing the Serignan pseudochrysalids
with those of Schreber's Cerocoma, which
came from Aramon, near Avignon, he was
able to establish the closest resemblance be-
tween the two organisms. Everything there-
fore confirms the supposition that my dis-
covery can relate only to Schaeffer's Cero-
coma. As for the other, it must be elimi-
nated: its extreme rarity in my neighbour-
hood is a sufficient reason.

It is tiresome that the diet of the Aramon
Meloid is not known. If I allowed my-
self to be guided by analogy, I should be in-
clined to regard Schreber's Cerocoma as a
parasite of Tachytes tarsina, who buries her
hoards of young Locusts in the high sandy
banks. In that case, the two Cerocomae
161

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

would have a similar diet. But I leave it to
Dr. Beauregard to elucidate this important
characteristic.

The riddle is deciphered: the Meloid
that eats Praying Mantes is Schaeffer's Cero-
coma, of whom I find plenty, in the spring,
on the blossoms of the everlasting. When-
ever I see it, my attention is attracted by an
unusual peculiarity: the great difference of
size that is able to exist between one speci-
men and another, albeit of the same sex. I
see stunted creatures, females as well as
males, which are barely one third the length
of their better-developed companions. The
Twelve-spotted Mylabris and the Four-
spotted Mylabris present differences quite as
pronounced in this respect.

The cause which makes a dwarf or a giant
of the same insect, irrespective of its sex,
can be only the smaller or greater quantity
of food. If the larva, as I suspect, is obliged
to find the Tachytes' game-larder for itself
and to visit a second and a third, when the
first is too frugally furnished, it may be
imagined that the hazard of the road does
not favour all in the same way, but rather
allots abundance to one and penury to an-
other. The grub that does not eat its fill
remains small, while the one that gluts itself
162

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

grows fat. These differences of size, in them-
selves, betray parasitism. If a mother's
pains had amassed the food, or if the family
had had the industry to obtain it direct in-
stead of robbing others, the ration would be
practically equal for all; and the inequalities
in size would be reduced to those which often
occur between the two sexes.

They speak, moreover, of a precarious,
risky parasitism, wherein the Meloid is not
sure of finding its food, which the Sitaris
finds so deftly, getting itself carried by the
Anthophora, after being born at the very
entrance to the Bee's galleries and leaving
its retreat only to slip into its host's fleece.
A vagabond obliged to find for itself the
food that suits it, the Cerocoma incurs the
risk of Lenten fare.

One chapter is lacking to complete the his-
tory of Schaeffer's Cerocoma : that which
treats of the beginning, the laying of the eggs,
the egg itself and the primary larva. While
watching the development of the Mantis-
eating parasite, I took my precautions, in the
first year, to discover its starting-point. By
eliminating what was known to me and seek-
ing among the Meloidae of my neighbour-
hood for the size that corresponded with
the pseudochrysalids unearthed from the
163

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

Tachytes' burrows, I found, as I have said,
only Schaeffer's Cerocoma and the Twelve-
spotted Mylabris. I undertook to rear these
in order to obtain their eggs.

As a standard of comparison, the Four-
spotted Mylabris, of a more imposing size,
was added to the first two. A fourth,
Zonitis mutica, whom I did not need to con-
sult, knowing that she was not connected with
the matter in hand and being familiar with
her pseudochrysalis, completed my school
of egg-layers. I proposed, if possible, to
obtain her primary larva. Lastly, I had
formerly reared some Cantharides with the
object of observing their egg-laying. In all,
five species of Blister-beetles, reared in a
breeding-cage, have left a few lines of notes
in my records.

The method of rearing is of the simplest.
Each species is placed under a large wire-
gauze dome standing in a basin filled with
earth. In the middle of the enclosure is a
bottle full of water, in which the food soaks
and keeps fresh. For the Cantharides, this
is a bundle of ash-twigs; for the Four-spotted
Mylabris, a bunch of bindweed (Convolvus
arvensis) or psoralea (P. bituminosa), of
which the insect nibbles only the corolla?.
For the Twelve-spotted Mylabris, I provide
164

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

blossoms of the scabious (Scabiosa mari-
titna) : for the Zonitis, the full-blown heads
of the eryngo {Eryngium campestre) ; for
Schaeffer's Cerocoma, the heads of the lies
d'Hyeres everlasting (Helichrysum stoschas) .
These three last nibble more particularly the
anthers, more rarely the petals, never the
leaves.

A sorry intellect and sorry manners, which
hardly repay the minute cares involved in the
rearing. To browse, to love her lord, to
dig a hole in the earth and carelessly to bury
her eggs in it: that is the whole life of the
adult Meloid. The dull creature acquires
a little interest only at the moment when the
male begins to toy with his mate. Every
species has its own ritual in declaring its
passion; and it is not beneath the dignity of
the observer to witness the manifestations,
sometimes so very strange, of the universal
Eros, who rules the world and brings a
tremor to even the lowest of the brute crea-
tion. This is the ultimate aim of the insect,
which becomes transfigured for this solemn
function and then dies, having no more to do.

A curious book might be written on the

subject of love among the beasts. Long

ago the subject tempted me. For a quarter

of a century my notes have been slumbering,

165

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

dustily, in a corner of my library. I extract
from them the following details concerning
the Cantharides. I am not the first, I know,
to describe the amorous preludes of the
Meloid of the Ash-tree; but the change of
narrator may give the narrative a certain
value : it confirms what has already been said
and throws light upon some points which may
have escaped notice.

A female Cantharides is peacefully nib-
bling her leaf. A lover comes upon the
scene, approaches her from behind, suddenly
mounts upon her back and embraces her with
his two pairs of hind-legs. Then with his
abdomen, which he lengthens as much as
possible, he energetically slaps that of the
female, on the right side and the left by turns.
It is like the strokes of a washerwoman's bat,
delivered with frenzied rapidity. With his
antennae and his fore-legs, which remain
free, he furiously lashes the neck of the vic-
tim. While the blows fall thick as hail, in
front and behind, the head and corselet of
the amorous swain are shaken by an ex-
travagant swaying and trembling. You
would think that the creature was having an
epileptic fit.

Meanwhile, the beloved makes herself
small, opening her wing-cases slightly, hiding

166

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

her head and tucking her abdomen under her,
as though to escape the erotic thunderstorm
that is bursting upon her back. But the
paroxysm calms down. The male extends
his fore-legs, shaken by a nervous tremor,
like the arms of a cross and in this ecstatic
posture seems to call upon the heavens to
witness the ardour of his desires. The
antennae and the belly are held motionless,
in a straight line; the head and the corselet
alone continue to heave rapidly up and down.
This period of repose does not last long.
Short as it is, the female, her appetite undis-
turbed by the passionate protestations of her
wooer, imperturbably resumes the nibbling
of her leaf.

Another paroxysm bursts forth. Once
more the male's blows rain upon the neck of
the tightly-clasped victim, who hastens to bow
her head upon her breast. But he has no
intention of allowing his lady-love to escape.
With his fore-legs, using a special notch
placed at the juncture of the leg and the
tarsus, he seizes both her antennae. The
tarsus folds back; and the antennae are held as
in a vice. The suitor pulls; and the callous
one is forced to raise her head. In this
posture the male reminds one of a horseman
proudly sitting his steed and holding the
. 167

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

reins in both hands. Thus mastering his
mount, he is sometimes motionless and some-
times frenzied in his demonstrations. Then,
with his long abdomen, he lashes the female's
hinder-parts, first on one side, then on the
other; the front part he flogs, hammers and
pounds with blows of his antennae, head and
feet. The object of his desires will be un-
feeling indeed if she refuse to surrender to
so passionate a declaration.

Nevertheless she still requires entreating.
The impassioned lover resumes his ecstatic
immobility, with his quivering arms out-
stretched like the limbs of a cross. At brief
intervals the amorous outbursts, with blows
conscientiously distributed, recur in alterna-
tion with periods of repose, during which
the male holds his fore-legs crosswise, or else
masters the female by the bridle of her an-
tennae. At last the flagellated beauty allows
herself to be touched by the charm attendant
on his thumps. She yields. Coupling takes
place and lasts for twenty hours. The he-
roic part of the male's performance is over.
Dragged backwards behind the female, the
poor fellow strives to uncouple himself. His
mate carts him about from leaf to leaf, wher-
ever she pleases, so that she may choose the
bit of green stuff to her taste. Sometimes he
1 68

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

also takes a gallant resolve and, like the fe-
male, begins to browse. You lucky creatures,
who, so as not to lose a moment of your four
or five weeks' existence, yoke together the
cravings of love and hunger ! Your motto
is, " A short life and a merry one."

The Cerocoma, who is a golden green like
the Cantharides, seems to have partly
adopted the amorous rites of her rival in
dress. The male, always the elegant sex in
the insect tribe, wears special ornaments.
The horns or antennae, magnificently com-
plicated, form as it were two tufts of a thick
head of hair. It is to this that the name
Cerocoma refers: the creature crested with
its horns. When a bright sun shines into the
breeding-cage, it is not long before the in-
sects form couples on the bunch of everlast-
ings. Hoisted on the female, whom he em-
braces and holds with his two pairs of hind-
legs, the male sways his head and corselet
up and down, all in a piece. This oscillatory
movement has not the fiery precipitation of
that of the Cantharides; it is calmer and as
it were rhythmical. The abdomen more-
over remains motionless and seems unskilled
in those slaps, as of a washerwoman's bat,
which the amorous denizen of the ash-tree
so vigorously distributes with hi-s belly.
169

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

While the front half of the body swings
up and down, the fore-legs execute magnetic
passes on either side of the tight-clasped
female, moving with a sort of twirl, so
rapidly that the eye can hardly follow them.
The female appears insensible to this flagel-
latory twirl. She innocently curls her an-
tennae. The rejected suitor leaves her and
moves on to another. His dizzy, twirling
passes, his protestations are everywhere re-
fused. The moment has not yet arrived, or
rather the spot is not propitious. Captivity
appears to weigh upon the future mothers.
Before listening to their wooers they must
have the open air, the sudden joyful flight
from cluster to cluster on the sunlit slope,
all gold with everlastings. Apart from the
idyll of the twirling passes, a mitigated form
of the Cantharides' blows, the Cerocoma re-
fused to yield before my eyes to the last act
of the bridal.

Among males the same oscillations of the
body and the same lateral flagellations are
frequently practised. While the upper one
makes a tremendous to-do and whirls his legs,
the one under him keeps quiet. Sometimes a
third scatterbrain comes on the scene, some-
times even a fourth, and mounts upon the
heap of his predecessors. The uppermost
170

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

bobs up and down and makes swift rowing-
strokes with his fore-legs; the others remain
motionless. Thus are the sorrows of the
rejected beguiled for a moment.

The Zonites, a rude clan, grazing on the
heads of the prickly eryngo, despise all
tender preliminaries. A few rapid vibra-
tions of the antennae on the males' part; and
that is all. The declaration could not be
briefer. The pairing, with the creatures
placed end to end, lasts nearly an hour.

The Mylabres also must be very expedi-
tious in their preliminaries, so much so that
my cages, which were kept well-stocked for
two summers, provided me with numerous
batches of eggs without giving me a single
opportunity of catching the males in the least
bit of a flirtation. Let us therefore consider
the egg-laying.

This takes place in August for our two
species of Mylabres. In the vegetable mould
which does duty as a floor to the wire-gauze
dome, the mother digs a pit four-fifths of an
inch deep and as wide as her body. This is
the place for the eggs. The laying lasts
barely half an hour. I have seen it last
thirty-six hours with Sitares. This quickness
of the Mylabris points to an incomparably
less numerous family. The hiding-place is
171

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

next closed. The mother sweeps up the rub-
bish with her fore-legs, collects it with the
rake of her mandibles and pushes it back into
the pit, into which she now descends to stamp
upon the powdery layer and cram it down
with her hind-legs, which I see swiftly work-
ing. When this layer is well packed, she
starts raking together fresh material to com-
plete the filling of the hole, which is carefully
trampled stratum by stratum.

I take the mother from her pit while she is
engaged in filling it up. Delicately, with the
tip of a camel-hair pencil, I move her a couple
of inches. The Beetle does not return to her
batch of eggs, does not even look for it.
She climbs up the wire gauze and proceeds
to graze among her companions on the bind-
weed or scabious, without troubling herself
further about her eggs, whose hiding-place
is only half-filled. A second mother, whom
I move only one inch, is no longer able to re-
turn to her task, or rather does not think of
doing so. I take a third, after shifting her
just as slightly, and, while the forgetful
creature is climbing up the trellis-work, bring
her back to the pit. I replace her with her
head at the opening. The mother stands
motionless, looking thoroughly perplexed.
She sways her head, passes her front tarsi
172

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

through her mandibles, then moves away and
climbs to the top of the dome without at-
tempting anything. In each of these three
cases I have to finish filling in the pit myself.
What then are this maternity, which the
touch of a brush causes to forget its duties,
and this memory, which is lost at a distance
of an inch from the spot? Compare with
these shortcomings of the adult the expert
machinations of the primary larva, which
knows where its victuals are and as its first
action introduces itself into the dwelling of
the host that is to feed it. How can time and
experience be factors of instinct? The new-
born animalcule amazes us with its foresight;
the adult insect astonishes us with its stu-
pidity.

With both Mylabres, the batch consists of
some forty eggs, a very small number com-
pared with those of the Oil-beetle and the
Sitaris. This limited family was already
foreseen, judging by the short space of time
which the egg-layer spends in her under-
ground lodging. The eggs of the Twelve-
spotted Mylabris are white, cylindrical,
rounded at both ends and measure a milli-
metre and a half in length by half a milli-
metre in width.1 Those of the Four-spotted

1 .058 x .019 inch. — Translator's Note.
173

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

Mylabris are straw coloured and of an elon-
gated oval, a trifle fuller at one end
than at the other. Length, two millimetres;
width, a little under one millimetre.1

Of all the batches of eggs collected, one
alone hatched. The rest were probably
sterile, a suspicion corroborated by the lack
of pairing in the breeding-cage. Laid at the
end of July, the eggs of the Twelve-spotted
Mylabris began to hatch on the 5th of Sep-
tember. The primary larva of this Meloid
is still unknown, so far as I am aware; and
I shall describe it in detail. It will be the
starting-point of a chapter which perhaps
will give us some fresh sidelights upon the
history of the hypermetamorphosis.

The larva is nearly 2 millimetres long.2
Coming out of a good-sized egg, it is en-
dowed with greater vigour than the larvae
of the Sitares and Oil-beetles. The head is
large, rounded, slightly wider than the pro-
thorax and of a rather brighter red. Man-
dibles powerful, sharp, curved, with the ends
crossing, of the same colour as the head,
darker at the tips. Eyes black, prominent,
globular, very distinct. Antennae fairly long,

1 .078 x .039 inch. — Translator's Note.
2 .078 inch. — Translators' Note.
174

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

with three joints, the last thinner and pointed.
Palpi very much pronounced.

The first thoracic segment has very nearly
the same diameter as the head and is much
longer than those which come after. It
forms a sort of cuirass equal in length to
almost three abdominal segments. It is
squared off in front in a straight line and is
rounded at the sides and at the back. Its
colour is bright red. The second ring is
hardly a third as long as the first. It is also
red, but a little browner. The third is dark
brown, with a touch of green to it. This
tint is repeated throughout the abdomen, so
that in the matter of colouring the creature
is divided into two sections : the front, which
is a fairly bright red, includes the head and
the first two thoracic segments; the second,
which is a greenish brown, includes the third
thoracic segment and the nine abdominal
rings.

The three pairs of legs are pale red, strong
and long, considering the creature's small-
ness. They end in a single long, sharp claw.

The abdomen has nine segments, all of an
olive brown. The membranous spaces which
connect them are white, so that, from the
second thoracic ring downwards, the tiny
creature is alternatively ringed with white
i7S

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

and olive brown. All the brown rings bris-
tle with short, sparse hairs. The anal seg-
ment, which is narrower than the rest, bears
at the tip two long cirri, very fine, slightly
waved and almost as long as the whole ab-
domen.

This description enables us to picture a
sturdy little creature, capable of biting lustily
with its mandibles, exploring the country with
its big eyes and moving about with six strong
harpoons as a support. We no longer have
to do with the puny louse of the Oil-beetle,
which lies in ambush on a cichoriaceous blos-
som in order to slip into the fleece of a har-
vesting Bee ; nor with the black atom of the
Sitaris, which swarms in a heap on the spot
where it is hatched, at the Anthophora's
door. I see the young Mylabris striding
eagerly up and down the glass tube in which
it was born.

What is it seeking? What does it want?
I give it a Bee, a Halictus,1 to see if it will
settle on the insect, as the Sitares and Oil-
beetles would not fail to do. My offer is
scorned. It is not a winged conveyance that
my prisoners require.

The primary larva of the Mylabris there-

1 Cf. Bramble-bees and Others: chaps, xii. to xiv. —
Translator's Note.

176

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

fore does not imitate those of the Sitaris and
the Oil-beetle ; it does not settle in the fleece
of its host to get itself carried to the cell
crammed with victuals. The task of seek-
ing and finding the heap of food falls upon
its own shoulders. The small number of the
eggs that constitute a batch also leads to the
same conclusion. Remember that the pri-
mary larva of the Oil-beetle, for instance, set-
tles on any insect that happens to pay a mo-
mentary visit to the flower in which the tiny
creature is on the look-out. Whether this
visitor be hairy or smooth-skinned, a manu-
facturer of honey, a canner of animal flesh or
without any determined calling, whether she
be Spider, Butterfly, Fly or Beetle makes no
difference: the instant the little yellow louse
espies the new arrival, it perches on her back
and leaves with her. And now it all de-
pends on luck! How many of these stray
travellers must be lost; how many will never
be carried into a warehouse full of honey,
their sole food! Therefore, to remedy this
enormous waste, the mother produces an in-
numerable family. The Oil-beetle's batch of
eggs is prodigious. Prodigious too is that
of the Sitaris, who is exposed to similar mis-
adventures.

If, with her thirty or forty eggs, the Myla-
177

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

bris had to run the same risks, perhaps not
one larva would reach the desired goal. For
so strictly limited a family a safer method
is needed. The young larva must not get
itself carried to the game-basket, or more
probably to the honey-pot, at the risk of
never reaching it; it must travel on its own
legs. Allowing myself to be guided by the
logic of things, I shall therefore complete
the story of the Twelve-spotted Mylabris as
follows.

The mother lays her eggs underground
near the spots frequented by the foster-
mothers. The recently-hatched young grubs
leave their lodgings in September and travel
within a restricted radius in search of bur-
rows containing food. The little creature's
sturdy legs allow of these underground in-
vestigations. The mandibles, which are just
as strong, necessarily play their part. The
parasite, on forcing its way into the food-pit,
finds itself faced with either the egg or the
young larva of the Bee. These are com-
petitors, whom it is important to get rid of
as quickly as possible. The hooks of the
mandibles now come into play, tearing the
egg or the defenceless grub. After this act
of brigandage, which may be compared with
that of the primary larva of the Sitaris rip-
178

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

ping open and drinking the contents of the
Anthophora's egg, the Meloid, now the sole
possessor of the victuals, doffs its battle ar-
ray and becomes the pot-bellied grub, the
consumer of the property so brutally ac-
quired. These are merely suspicions on my
part, nothing more. Direct observation will,
I believe, confirm them, so close is their con-
nection with the known facts.

Two Zonites, both visitors of the eryngo-
heads during the heats of summer, are among
the Meloidae of my part of the country.
They are Zonitis mutica and Z. prausta. I
have spoken of the first in another volume ; x
I have mentioned its pseudochrysalis found
in the cells of two Osmiae, namely, the
Three-pronged Osmia, which piles its cells in
a dry bramble-stem, and the Three-horned
Osmia and also Latreille's Osmia, both of
which exploit the nests of the Chalicodoma of
the Sheds. The second Zonitis is to-day add-
ing its quota of evidence to a story which is
still very incomplete. I have obtained the
Burnt Zonitis, in the first place, from the cot-
ton pouches of Anthidium scapular e, who, like
the Three-toothed Osmia, makes her nests in
the brambles; in the second place, from the

1 Cf. Bramble-bees and Others: chaps, i., iii. and x.— -
Translator's Note.

179

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

wallets of Megachile sericans, made with
little round disks of the leaves of the com-
mon acacia; in the third place, from the cells
which Anthidium bellicosum l builds with par-
titions of resin in the shell of a dead Snail.
This last Anthidium is the victim also of
the Unarmed Zonitis. Thus we have two
closely-related exploiters for the same victim.
During the last fortnight of July, I wit-
ness the emergence of the Burnt Zonitis from
the pseudochrysalis. The latter is cylin-
drical, slightly curved and rounded at both
ends. It is closely wrapped in the cast skin
of the secondary larva, a skin consisting of
a diaphanous bag, without any outlet, with
running along each side a white tracheal
thread which connects the various stigmatic
apertures. I easily recognize the seven ab-
dominal stigmata; they are round and dimi-
nish slightly in width from front to back. I
also detect the thoracic stigma. Lastly, I
perceive the legs, which are quite small, with
weak claws, incapable of supporting the
creature. Of the mouth-parts I see plainly
only the mandibles, which are short, weak
and brown. In short, the secondary larva

1 For the Cotton-bee, Leaf-cutter and Resin-bee men-
tioned, cf. Bramble-bees and Others: passim. — Trans-
lator's Note.

1 80

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

was soft, white, big-bellied, blind, with rudi-
mentary legs. Similar results were furnished
by the shed skin of the secondary larva of
Zonitis mutica, consisting, like the other, of
a bag without an opening, fitting closely over
the pseudochrysalis.

Let us continue our examination of the
relics of the Burnt Zonitis. The pseudo-
chrysalis is red, the colour of a cough-
lozenge. It remains intact after opening,
except in front, where the adult insect has
emerged. In shape it is a cylindrical bag,
with firm, elastic walls. The segmentation
is plainly visible. The magnifying-glass
shows the fine star-shaped dots already ob-
served in the Unarmed Zonitis. The stig-
matic apertures have a projecting, dark-red
rim. They are all, even the last, clearly
marked. The signs of the legs are mere
studs, hardly protruding, a little darker than
the rest of the skin. The cephalic mask is
reduced to a few mouldings which are not
easy to distinguish.

At the bottom of this pseudochrysalidal
sheath I find a little white wad which, when
placed in water, softened and then patiently
unravelled with the tip of a paint-brush,
yields a white, powdery substance, which is
uric acid, the usual product of the work of
181

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

the nymphosis, and a rumpled membrane, in
which I recognize the cast skin of the nymph.
There should still be the tertiary larva, of
which I see not a trace. But, on taking a
needle and gradually breaking the envelope
of the pseudochrysalis, after soaking it
awhile in water, I see it dividing into two
layers, one an outer layer, brittle, horny in
appearance and currant-red; the other an
inner layer, consisting of a transparent, flex-
ible pellicle. There can be no doubt that this
inner layer represents the tertiary larva,
whose skin is left adhering to the envelope
of the pseudochrysalis. It is fairly thick
and tough, but I cannot detach it except in
shreds, so closely does it adhere to the horny,
crumbly sheath.

Since I possessed a fair number of pseudo-
chrysalids, I sacrificed a few in order to ascer-
tain their contents on the approach of the
final transformations. Well, I never found
anything that I could detach; I never suc-
ceeded in extracting a larva in its tertiary
form, though this larva is so easily obtained
from the amber pouches of the Sitares and,
in the Oil-beetles and Cerocomae, emerges
of its own accord from the split wrapper of
the pseudochrysalis. When, for the first
time, the stiff shell encloses a body which
182

Cerocomae, Mylabres and Zonites

does not adhere to the rest, this body is a
nymph and nothing else. The wall sur-
rounding it is a dull white inside. I at-
tribute this colouring to the cast skin of the
tertiary larva, which was inseparably fixed
to the shell of the pseudochrysalis. .

The Zonites, therefore, display a pecu-
liarity which is not offered by the other
Meloidae, namely, a series of tightly-fitting
shells, one within the other. The pseudo-
chrysalis is enclosed in the skin of the sec-
ondary larva, a skin which forms a pouch
without an orifice, fitted very closely to its
contents. The slough of the tertiary larva
fits even more closely to the inner surface
of the pseudochrysalid sheath. The nymph
alone does not adhere to its envelope. In
the Cerocomae and the Oil-beetles, each
form of the hypermetamorphosis becomes
detached from the preceding skin by a com-
plete extraction; the contents are removed
from the ruptured container and have no
further connection with it. In the Sitares,
the successive casts are not ruptured and re-
main enclosed inside one another, but with
an interval between, so that the tertiary
larva can move and turn as it wishes in its
multiple enclosure. In the Zonites, there is
the same arrangement, with this difference,
183

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

that, until the nymph appears, there is no
empty space between one slough and the next.
The tertiary larva cannot budge. It is not
free, as witness its cast skin, which fits so
precisely to the envelope of the pseudochrys-
alis. This form would therefore pass un-
perceived if its existence were not proclaimed
by the membrane which lines the inside of
the pseudochrysalid pouch.

To complete the story of the Zonites, the
primary larva is lacking. I do not yet know
it, for, when rearing the insect under wire-
gauze covers, I never succeeded in obtaining
a batch of eggs.

184

CHAPTER VII

THE CAPRICORN

l\yTY youthful meditations owe some happy
*T~ moments to Condillac's 2 famous sta-
tue which, when endowed with the sense of
smell, inhales the scent of a rose and out of
that single impression creates a whole world
of ideas. My twenty-year-old mind, full of
faith in syllogisms, loved to follow the de-
ductive jugglery of the abbe-philosopher:
I saw, or seemed to see, the statue take life
in that action of the nostrils, acquiring at-
tention, memory, judgment and all the psy-
chological paraphernalia, even as still waters
are aroused and rippled by the impact of a
grain of sand. I recovered from my illu-
sion under the instruction of my abler mas-

1 Etienne Bonnot de Condillac, Abbe de Mureaux
(1715-1780), the leading exponent of sensational philoso-
phy. His most important work is the Traite des sensa-
tions, in which he imagines a statue, organized like a
man, and endows it with the senses one by one, begin-
ning with that of smell. He argues by a process of
imaginative reconstruction that all human faculties and
all human knowledge are merely transformed sensation,
to the exclusion of any other principle, that, in short,
everything has its source in sensation: man is nothing but
what he has acquired. — Translator's Note.
185

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

ter, the animal. The Capricorn shall teach
urs that the problem is more obscure than the
abbe led me to believe.

When wedge and mallet are at work, pre-
paring my provision of firewood under the
grey sky that heralds winter, a favourite re-
laxation creates a welcome break in my daily
output of prose. By my express orders, the
woodman has selected the oldest and most
ravaged trunks in his stack. My tastes
bring a smile to his lips; he wonders by what
whimsy I prefer wood that is worm-eaten,
chirouna, as he calls it, to sound wood, which
burns so much better. I have my views on
the subject; and the worthy man submits to
them.

And now to us two, O my fine oak-trunk
seamed with scars, gashed with wounds
whence trickle the brown drops smelling of
the tan-yard. The mallet drives home, the
wedges bite, the wood splits. What do your
flanks contain? Real treasures for my
studies. In the dry and hollow parts, groups
of various insects, capable of living through
the bad season of the year, have taken up
their winter quarters : in the low-roofed gal-
leries, galleries built by some Buprestis Bee-
tle, Osmise, working their paste of masticated
leaves, have piled their cells one above the
186

The Capricorn

other; in the deserted chambers and vesti-
bules, Megachiles have arranged their leafy-
jars; in the live wood, filled with juicy
saps, the larvae of the Capricorn (Cerambyx
miles), the chief author of the oak's undo-
ing, have set up their home.

Strange creatures, of a verity, are these
grubs, for an insect of superior organization:
bits of intestines crawling about! At this
time of year, the middle of autumn, I meet
them of two different ages. The older are
almost as thick as one's finger; the others
hardly attain the diameter of a pencil. I
find, in addition, pupae more or less fully
coloured, perfect insects, with a distended
abdomen, ready to leave the trunk when the
hot weather comes again. Life inside the
wood, therefore, lasts three years. How is
this long period of solitude and captivity
spent? In wandering lazily through the
thickness of the oak, in making roads whose
rubbish serves as food. The horse in Job
swallows the ground * in a figure of speech;
the Capricorn's grub eats its way literally.
With its carpenter's-gouge, a strong black

1 " Chafing and raging, he swalloweth the ground,
neither doth he make account when the noise of the
trumpet soundeth." — Job, xxxix, 23 (Douai version). —
Translator's Note.

187

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

mandible, short, devoid of notches, scooped
into a sharp-edged spoon, it digs the opening
of its tunnel. The piece cut out is a mouth-
ful which, as it enters the stomach, yields its
scanty juices and accumulates behind the
worker in heaps of wormed wood. The
refuse leaves room in front by passing
through the worker. A labour at once of
nutrition and of road-making, the path is
devoured while constructed; it is blocked be-
hind as it makes way ahead. That, how-
ever, is how all the borers who look to wood
for victuals and lodging set about their busi-
ness.

For the harsh work of its two gouges, or
curved chisels, the larva of the Capricorn
concentrates its muscular strength in the
front of its body, which swells into a pestle-
head. The Buprestis-grubs, those other in-
dustrious carpenters, adopt a similar form;
they even exaggerate their pestle. The part
that toils and carves hard wood requires a
robust structure; the rest of the body, which
has but to follow after, continues slim. The
essential thing is that the implement of the
jaws should possess a solid support and
a powerful motor. The Cerambyx-larva
strengthens its chisels with a stout, black,
horny armour that surrounds the mouth ; yet,
188

The Capricorn

apart from its skull and its equipment of
tools, the grub has a skin as fine as satin and
as white as ivory. This dead white comes
from a copious layer of grease which the
animal's spare diet would not lead us to sus-
pect. True, it has nothing to do, at every
hour of the day and night, but gnaw. The
quantity of wood that passes into its stomach
makes up for the dearth of nourishing ele-
ments.

The legs, consisting of three pieces, the
first globular, the last sharp-pointed, are
mere rudiments, vestiges. They are hardly
a millimetre l long. For this reason, they
are of no use whatever for walking; they do
not even bear upon the supporting surface,
being kept off it by the obesity of the chest.
The organs of locomotion are something al-
together different. The Cetonia-grub 2 has
shown us how, with the aid of the hairs and
the pad-like excrescences upon its spine, it
manages to reverse the universally-accepted
usage and to wriggle along on its back. The
grub of the Capricorn is even more ingeni-
ous: it moves at the same time on its back

1 .039 inch. — Translator's Note.

2 For the grub of the Cetonia, or Rose-chafer, cf. The
Life and Love of the Insect, by J. Henri Fabre, translated
by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chap. xi. — Translator's

Note.

189

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

and belly; instead of the useless legs of the
thorax, it has a walking-apparatus almost re-
sembling feet, which appear, contrary to
every rule, on the dorsal surface.

The first seven segments of the abdomen
have, both above and below, a four-sided
facet, bristling with rough protuberances.
This the grub can either expand or contract,
making it stick out or lie flat at will. The
upper facets consist of two excrescences sepa-
rated by the mid-dorsal line; the lower ones
have not this divided appearance. These
are the organs of locomotion, the ambulacra.
When the larva wishes to move forwards, it
expands its hinder ambulacra, those on the
back as well as those on the belly, and con-
tracts its front ones. Fixed to the side of
the narrow gallery by their ridges, the hind-
pads give the grub a purchase. The flat-
tening of the fore-pads, by decreasing the
diameter, allows it to slip forward and to
take half a step. To complete the step, the
hind-quarters have to be brought up the same
distance. With this object, the front pads
fill out and provide support, while those be-
hind shrink and leave free scope for their
segments to contract.

With the double support of its back and
belly, with alternate puffings and shrinkings,
190

The Capricorn

the animal easily advances or retreats along
its gallery, a sort of mould which the con-
tents fill without a gap. But, if the loco-
motory pads grip only on one side, progress
becomes impossible. When placed on the
smooth wood of my table, the animal wrig-
gles slowly; it lengthens and shortens with-
out advancing by a hair's-breadth. Laid on
the surface of a piece of split oak, a rough,
uneven surface, due to the gash made by the
wedge, it twists and writhes, moves the front
part of its body very slowly from left to
right and right to left, lifts it a little, lowers
it and begins again. These are the most
extensive movements made. The vestigial
legs remain inert and absolutely useless.

Then why are they there? Better to lose
them altogether, if it be true that craw-
ling inside the oak has deprived the animal
of the good legs with which it started. The
influence of environment, so well-inspired in
endowing the grub with ambulatory pads,
becomes a mockery when it leaves it these
ridiculous stumps. Can the structure, per-
chance, be obeying other rules than those of
environment?

Though the useless legs, the germs of the
future limbs, persist, there is no sign in the
grub of the eyes wherewith the Cerambyx
191

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

will be richly gifted. The larva has not the
least trace of organs of vision. What would
it do with sight, in the murky thickness of
a tree-trunk? Hearing is likewise absent.
In the never-troubled silence of the oak's in-
most heart, the sense of hearing would be a
non-sense. Where sounds are lacking, of
what use is the faculty of discerning them?
Should there be any doubts, I will reply to
them with the following experiment. Split
lengthwise, the grub's abode leaves a half-
tunnel wherein I can watch the occupant's
doings. When left alone, it now gnaws the
front of its gallery, now rests, fixed by its
ambulacra to the two sides of the channel.
I avail myself of these moments of quiet to
enquire into its power of perceiving sounds.
The banging of hard bodies, the ring of
metallic objects, the grating of a file upon a
saw are tried in vain. The animal remains
impassive. Not a wince, not a move of the
skin; no sign of awakened attention. I suc-
ceed no better when I scratch the wood close
by with a hard point, to imitate the sound of
some neighbouring larva gnawing the inter-
vening thickness. The indifference to my
noisy tricks could be no greater in a lifeless
object. The animal is deaf.
192

The Capricorn

Can it smell? Everything tells us no.
Scent is of assistance in the search for food.
But the Capricorn-grub need not go in quest
of eatables: it feeds on its home, it lives on
the wood that gives it shelter. Let us make
an attempt or two, however. I scoop in a
log of fresh cypress-wood a groove of the
same diameter as that of the natural galleries
and I place the worm inside it. Cypress-
wood is strongly-scented; it possesses in a
high degree that resinous aroma which char-
acterizes most of the pine family. Well,
when laid in the odoriferous channel, the
larva goes to the end, as far as it can go, and
makes no further movement. Does not this
placid quiescence point to the absence of a
sense of smell? The resinous flavour, so
strange to the grub which has always lived
in oak, ought to vex it, to trouble it; and the
disagreeable impression ought to be revealed
by a certain commotion, by certain attempts
to get away. Well, nothing of the kind hap-
pens: once the larva has found the right po-
sition in the groove, it does not stir. I do
more : I set before it, at a very short distance,
in its normal canal, a piece of camphor.
Again, no effect. Camphor is followed by
naphthaline. Still nothing. After these
193

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

fruitless endeavours, I do not think that I am
going too far when I deny the creature a
sense of smell.

Taste is there, no doubt. But such taste !
The food is without variety: oak, for three
years at a stretch, and nothing else. What
can the grub's palate appreciate in this mo-
notonous fare ? The tannic relish of a fresh
piece, oozing with sap; the uninteresting fla-
vour of an over-dry piece, robbed of its na-
tural condiment: these probably represent
the whole gustative scale.

There remains touch, the far-spreading
passive sense common to all live flesh that
quivers under the goad of pain. The sensi-
tive schedule of the Cerambyx-grub, there-
fore, is limited to taste and touch, both ex-
ceedingly obtuse. This almost brings us to
Condillac's statue. The imaginary being of
the philosopher had one sense only, that of
smell, equal in delicacy to our own; the real
being, the ravager of the oak, has two, in-
ferior, even when put together, to the former,
which so plainly perceived the scent of a rose
and distinguished it so clearly from any other.
The real case will bear comparison with the
fictitious.

What can be the psychology of a creature
possessing such a powerful digestive organ-
ise

The Capricorn

ism combined with such a feeble set of
senses? A vain wish has often come to me
in my dreams: it is to be able to think, for a
few minutes, with the crude brain of my
Dog, to see the world with the faceted eyes
of a Gnat. How things would change in
appearance ! They would change much more
if interpreted by the intellect of the grub.
What have the lessons of touch and taste
contributed to that rudimentary receptacle of
impressions? Very little; almost nothing.
The animal knows that the best bits possess
an astringent flavour; that the sides of a
passage not carefully planed are painful to
the skin. This is the utmost limit of its ac-
quired wisdom. In comparison, the statue
with the sensitive nostrils was a marvel of
knowledge, a paragon too generously en-
dowed by its inventor. It remembered, com-
pared, judged, reasoned: does the drowsy,
digesting paunch remember? Does it com-
pare? Does it reason? I defined the Capri-
corn-grub as a bit of an intestine that crawls
about. The undeniable accuracy of this
definition provides me with my answer: the
grub has the aggregate of sense-impressions
that a bit of an intestine may hope to have.
And this nothing-at-all is capable of mar-
vellous acts of foresight; this belly, which
195

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

knows hardly anything of the present, sees
very clearly into the future. Let us take
an illustration on this curious subject. For
three years on end, the larva wanders about
in the thick of the trunk; it goes up, goes
down, turns to this side and that; it leaves
one vein for another of better flavour, but
without moving too far from the inner
depths, where the temperature is milder and
greater safety reigns. A day is at hand, a
dangerous day for the recluse obliged to quit
its excellent retreat and face the perils of the
surface. Eating is not everything: we have
to get out of this. The larva, so well-
equipped with tools and muscular strength,
finds no difficulty in going where it pleases,
by boring through the wood; but does the
coming Capricorn, whose short spell of life
must be spent in the open air, possess the
same advantages? Hatched inside the
trunk, will the long-horned Beetle be able to
clear itself a way of escape?

That is the difficulty which the worm solves
by inspiration. Less versed in things of the
future, despite my gleams of reason, I re-
sort to experiment with a view to fathoming
the question. I begin by ascertaining that
the Capricorn, when he wishes to leave the
trunk, is absolutely unable to make use of
196

The Capricorn

the tunnel wrought by the larva. It is a
very long and very irregular maze, blocked
with great heaps of wormed wood. Its dia-
meter decreases progressively from the final
blind alley to the starting-point. The larva
entered the timber as slim as a tiny bit of
straw; it is to-day as thick as one's finger.
In its three years' wanderings, it always dug
its gallery according to the mould of its
body. Evidently, the road by which the
larva entered and moved about cannot be the
Capricorn's exit-way: his immoderate an-
tennas, his long legs, his inflexible armour-
plates would encounter an insuperable ob-
stacle in the narrow, winding corridor, which
would have to be cleared of its wormed wood
and, moreover, greatly enlarged. It would
be less fatiguing to attack the untouched tim-
ber and dig straight ahead. Is the insect
capable of doing so? We shall see.

I make some chambers of suitable size in
oak logs chopped in two; and each of my
artificial cells receives a newly-transformed
Cerambyx, such as my provisions of firewood
supply, when split by the wedge, in October.
The two pieces are then joined and kept to-
gether with a few bands of wire. June
comes. I hear a scraping inside my billets.
Will the Capricorns come out, or not? The

197

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

delivery does not seem difficult to me: there
is hardly three-quarters of an inch to pierce.
Not one emerges. When all is silence, I
open my apparatus. The captives, from
first to last, are dead. A vestige of saw-
dust, less than a pinch of snuff, represents all
their work.

I expected more from those sturdy tools,
their mandibles. But, as we have seen be-
fore, the tool does not make the workman.1
In spite of their boring-implements, the her-
mits die in my cases for lack of skill. I
subject others to less arduous tests. I en-
close them in spacious reed-stumps, equal in
diameter to the natal cell. The obstacle to
be pierced is the natural diaphragm, a yield-
ing partition two or three millimetres 2 thick.
Some free themselves; others cannot. The
less valiant ones succumb, stopped by the
frail barrier. What would it be if they had
to pass through a thickness of oak?

We are now persuaded: despite his stal-
wart appearance, the Capricorn is powerless

1 Cf. The Life and Love of the Insect: chap. iii. " The
tool does not make the workman. The insect exerts its
gifts as a specialist with any kind of tool wherewith it is
supplied. It can saw with a plane or plane with a saw,
like the model workman of whom Franklin tells us." —
Translator's Note.

2 .078 to .117 inch. — Translator's Note.

198

The Capricorn

to leave the tree-trunk by his unaided efforts.
It therefore falls to the worm, to the wisdom
of that bit of an intestine, to prepare the way
for him. We see renewed, in another form,
the feats of prowess of the Anthrax, whose
pupa, armed with trepans, bores through
rock on the feeble Fly's behalf. Urged by
a presentiment that to us remains an un-
fathomable mystery, the Cerambyx-grub
leaves the inside of the oak, its peaceful re-
treat, its unassailable stronghold, to wriggle
towards the outside, where lives the foe, the
Woodpecker, who may gobble up the suc-
culent little sausage. At the risk of its life,
it stubbornly digs and gnaws to the very bark,
of which it leaves no more intact than the
thinnest film, a slender screen. Sometimes,
even, the rash one opens the window wide.

This is the Capricorn's doorway. The
insect will have but to file the screen a little
with its mandibles, to bump against it with
its forehead, in order to bring it down; it
will even have nothing to do when the win-
dow is free, as often happens. The un-
skilled carpenter, burdened with his extrava-
gant head-dress, will emerge from the dark-
ness through this opening when the summer
heats arrive.

After the cares of the future come the
199

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

cares of the present. The larva, which has
just opened the aperture of escape, retreats
some distance down its gallery and, in the
side of the exit-way, digs itself a transforma-
tion-chamber more sumptuously furnished
and barricaded than any that I have ever
seen. It is a roomy niche, shaped like a
flattened ellipsoid, the length of which reaches
some eighty to a hundred millimetres.1 The
two axes of the cross-section vary: the hori-
zontal measures twenty-five to thirty milli-
metres 2; the vertical measures only fifteen."'1
This greater dimension of the cell, where the
thickness of the perfect insect is concerned,
leaves a certain scope for the action of its
legs when the time comes for forcing the
barricade, which is more than a close-fitting
mummy-case would do.

The barricade in question, a door which
the larva builds to exclude the dangers from
without, is two- and even three-fold. Out-
side, it is a stack of woody refuse, of par-
ticles of chopped timber; inside, a mineral
hatch, a concave cover, all in one piece, of a
chalky white. Pretty often, but not always,
there is added to these two layers an inner

1 3 to 4 inches. — Translator's Note.

2 -975 to I>17 inch. — Translator's Note.
8 .585 inch. — Translator's Note.

200

The Capricorn

casing of shavings. Behind this compound
door, the larva makes its arrangements for
the metamorphosis. The sides of the cham-
ber are rasped, thus providing a sort of down
formed of ravelled woody fibres, broken into
minute shreds. The velvety matter, as and
when obtained, is applied to the wall in a
continuous felt at least a millimetre thick.1
The chamber is thus padded throughout with
a fine swan's-down, a delicate precaution
taken by the rough worm on behalf of the
tender pupa.

Let us hark back to the most curious part
of the furnishing, the mineral hatch or inner
door of the entrance. It is an elliptical
skull-cap, white and hard as chalk, smooth
within and knotted without, resembling more
or less closely an acorn-cup. The knots
show that the matter is supplied in small,
pasty mouthfuls, solidifying outside in slight
projections which the animal does not re-
move, being unable to get at them, and pol-
ished on the inside surface, which is within
the worm's reach. What can be the nature
of that singular lid whereof the Cerambyx
furnishes me with the first specimen? It is
as hard and brittle as a flake of lime-stone.
It can be dissolved cold in nitric acid, dis-

1 .039 inch. — Translator's Note.
201

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

charging little gaseous bubbles. The process
of solution is a slow one, requiring several
hours for a tiny fragment. Everything is
dissolved, except a few yellowish flocks,
which appear to be of an organic nature. As
a matter of fact, a piece of the lid, when
subjected to heat, blackens, which proves the
presence of an organic glue cementing the
mineral matter. The solution becomes
muddy if oxalate of ammonia be added and
deposits a copious white precipitate. These
signs indicate calcium carbonate. I look for
urate of ammonia, that constantly-recurring
product of the various stages of the meta-
morphoses. It is not there: I find not the
least trace of murexide. The lid, therefore,
is composed solely of carbonate of lime and
of an organic cement, no doubt of an al-
buminous character, which gives consistency
to the chalky paste.

Had circumstances served me better, I
should have tried to discover in which of the
worm's organs the stony deposit dwells. I
am, however, convinced: it is the stomach,
the chylific ventricle, that supplies the chalk.
It keeps it separate from the food, either as
original matter or as a derivative of the
ammonium urate; it purges it of all foreign
bodies, when the larval period comes to an

202

The Capricorn

end, and holds it in reserve until the time
comes to disgorge it. This freestone-fac-
tory causes me no astonishment: when the
manufacturer undergoes his change, it serves
for various chemical works. Certain Oil-
beetles, such as the Sitaris, locate in it the
urate of ammonia, the refuse of the trans-
formed organism; the Sphex, the Pelopaei,
the Scoliae,1 use it to manufacture the shellac
wherewith the silk of the cocoon is varnished.
Further investigations will only swell the ag-
gregate of the products of this obliging or-
gan.

When the exit-way is prepared and the cell
upholstered in velvet and closed with a three-
fold barricade, the industrious worm has con-
cluded its task. It lays aside its tools, sheds
its skin and becomes a nymph, a pupa, weak-
ness personified, in swaddling-clothes, on a
soft couch. The head is always turned to-
wards the door. This is a trifling detail in
appearance; but it is everything in reality.
To lie this way or that in the long cell is a
matter of great indifference to the worm,
which is very supple, turning easily in its
narrow lodging and adopting whatever po-
sition it pleases. The coming Capricorn will
not enjoy the same privileges. Stiffly girt in

1 Three species of Digger-wasps. — Translator's Note.
203

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

his horn cuirass, he will not be able to turn
from end to end; he will not even be capable
of bending, if some sudden wind should make
the passage difficult. He must absolutely
find the door in front of him, lest he perish
in the casket. Should the grub forget this
little formality, should it lie down to its
nymphal sleep with its head at the back of
the cell, the Capricorn is infallibly lost: his
cradle becomes a hopeless dungeon.

But there is no fear of this danger: the
knowledge of the bit of an intestine is too
sound in things of the future for the grub
to neglect the formality of keeping its head
to the door. At the end of spring, the Cap-
ricorn, now in possession of his full strength,
dreams of the joys of the sun, of the festivals
of light. He wants to get out. What does
he find before him? A heap of filings easily
dispersed with his claws; next, a stone lid
which he need not even break into fragments :
it comes undone in one piece; it is removed
from its frame with a few pushes of the fore-
head, a few tugs of the claws. In fact, I find
the lid intact on the threshold of the aban-
doned cells. Last comes a second mass of
woody remnants as easy to disperse as the
first. The road is now free: the Cerambyx
has but to follow the spacious vestibule,
204

The Capricorn

which will lead him, without the possibility
of mistake, to the exit. Should the window
not be open, all that he has to do is to gnaw
through a thin screen: an easy task; and be-
hold him outside, his long antennae aquiver
with excitement.

What have we learnt from him ? Nothing
from him; much from his grub. This grub,
so poor in sensory organs, gives us with
its prescience no little food for reflection.
It knows that the coming Beetle will not be
able to cut himself a road through the oak
and it bethinks itself of opening one for him
at its own risk and peril. It knows that the
Cerambyx, in his stiff armour, will never be
able to turn and make for the orifice of the
cell ; and it takes care to fall into its nymphal
sleep with its head to the door. It knows
how soft the pupa's flesh will be and up-
holsters the bedroom with velvet. It knows
that the enemy is likely to break in during
the slow work of the transformation and, to
set a bulwark against his attacks, it stores
a calcium pap inside its stomach. It knows
the future with a clear vision, or, to be ac-
curate, behaves as though it knew the future.
Whence did it derive the motives of its ac-
tions? Certainly not from the experience
of the senses. What does it know of the
205

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

outside world? Let us repeat, as much as a
bit of an intestine can know. And this sense-
less creature astounds us ! I regret that the
clever logician, instead of conceiving a statue
smelling a rose, did not imagine it gifted with
some instinct. How quickly he would have
recognized that, quite apart from sense-im-
pressions, the animal, including man, pos-
sesses certain psychological resources, certain
inspirations that are innate and not acquired!

206

CHAPTER VIII

THE PROBLEM OF THE SIREX

1 I ^HE cherry-tree supports a small jet-
■*■ black Capricorn, Cerambyx cerdo,
whose larval habits it was as well to study
in order to learn whether the instincts are
modified when the form and the organization
remain identical. Has this pigmy of the
family the same talents as the giant, the
ravager of the oak-tree? Does it work on
the same principles? The resemblance be-
tween the two, both in the larval state and
in that of the perfect insect, is complete ; the
denizen of the cherry-tree is an exact replica,
on a smaller scale, of the denizen of the oak.
If instinct is the inevitable consequence of the
organism, we ought to find in the two in-
sects a strict similarity of habits; if instinct
is, on the other hand, a special aptitude fa-
voured by the organs, we must expect va-
riations in the industry exercised. For the
second time the alternative is forced upon
our attention: do the implements govern the
practice of the craft, or does the craft gov-
ern the employment of the implements? Is
207

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

instinct derived from the organ, or is the or-
gan instinct's servant? An old dead cherry-
tree will answer our question.

Beneath its ragged bark, which I lift in
wide strips, swarms a population of larvae
all belonging to Cerambyx cerdo. There are
big larvae and little larvae; moreover, they
are accompanied by nymphs. These details
tell us of three years of larval existence, a
duration of life frequent in the Longicorn
series. If we hunt the thick of the trunk,
splitting it again and again, it does not show
us a single grub anywhere; the entire popu-
lation is encamped between the bark and the
wood. Here we find an inextricable maze
of winding galleries, crammed with packed
sawdust, crossing, recrossing, shrinking into
little alleys, expanding into wide spaces and
cutting, on the one hand, into the surface
layer of the sap-wood and, on the other, into
the thin sheets of the inner bark. The po-
sition speaks for itself: the larva of the little
Capricorn has other tastes than its large kins-
man's; for three years it gnaws the outside
of the trunk beneath the thin covering of
the bark, while the other seeks a deeper
refuge and gnaws the inside.

The dissimilarity is yet more marked in
the preparations for the nymphosis. Then
208

The Problem of the Sirex

the worm of the cherry-tree leaves the sur-
face and penetrates into the wood to a depth
of about two inches, leaving behind it a wide
passage, which is hidden on the outside by a
remnant of bark that has been discreetly
spared. This spacious vestibule is the fu-
ture insect's path of release; this screen of
bark, easily destroyed, is the curtain that
masks the exit-door. In the heart of the
wood the larva finally scoops out the cham-
ber destined for the nymphosis. This is an
egg-shaped recess an inch and a quarter to
an inch and three-quarters in length by two-
fifths of an inch in diameter. The walls are
bare, that is to say, they are not lined with
the blanket of shredded fibres dear to the
Capricorn of the Oak. The entrance is
blocked first by a plug of fibrous sawdust,
then by a chalky lid, similar, except in point
of size, to that with which we are already
familiar. A thick layer of fine sawdust
packed into the concavity of the chalky lid,
completes the barricade. Need I add that
the grub lies down and goes to sleep, for the
nymphosis, with its head against the door?
Not one forgets to take this precaution.

The two Capricorns have, in short, the
same system of closing their cells. Note
above all the lens-shaped stony lid. In each
209

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

case we find the same chemical composition,
the same formation, like the cup of an acorn.
Dimensions apart, the two structures are
identical. But no other genus of Longicorn,
so far as I am aware, practises this craft.
I will therefore complete the classic descrip-
tion of the Cerambyx-beetles by adding one
characteristic: they seal their metamorphosis-
chambers with a chalk slab.

The similarities of habit go no farther,
despite the identity of structure. There is
even a very sharp contrast between the meth-
ods pursued. The Capricorn of the Oak in-
habits the deep layers of the trunk; the Cap-
ricorn of the Cherry-tree inhabits the sur-
face. In the preparations for the trans-
formation, the first ascends from the wood
to the bark, the second descends from the
bark to the wood; the first risks the perils of
the outer world, the second shuns them and
seeks a retreat inside. The first hangs the
walls of its chamber with velvet, the second
knows nothing of this luxury. Though the
work is almost the same in its results, it is
at least carried out by contrary methods.
The tool, therefore, does not govern the
trade. This is what the two Cerambyx-
beetles tell us.

Let us vary the testimony of the Longi-

210

The Problem of the Sirex

corns. I am not selecting; I am recording
it in the order of my discoveries. The
Shagreen Saperda (S. carcharias) lives in
the black poplar; the Scalary Saperda (S.
scalaris) lives in the cherry-tree. In both
we find the same organization and the same
implements, as is fitting in two closely-re-
lated species. The Saperda of the Poplar
adopts the method of the Capricorn of the
Oak in its general features. It inhabits the
interior of the trunk. On the approach of
the transformation, it makes an exit-gallery,
the door of which is open or else masked by
a remnant of bark. Then, retracing its
steps, it blocks the passage with a barricade
of coarse packed shavings; and, at a depth
of about eight inches, not far from the heart
of the tree, it hollows out a cavity for the
nymphosis without any particular upholster-
ing. The defensive system is limited to the
long column of shavings. To deliver itself,
the insect will only have to push the heap of
woody rubbish back, in so many lots; the
path will open in front of it ready-made. If
some screen of bark hide the gallery from
the outside, its mandibles will easily dispose
of that: it is soft and not very thick.

The Scalary Saperda imitates the habits of
its messmate, the Capricorn of the Cherry-

211

The Glow-Worm and Other Bcctlci

tree. Its larva lives between the wood and
the bark. I 0 undergo its transformation,
it goes down instead of coming up. In the
I, parallel with the surface of the
hunk, under a layer of wood barely a twenty-
Id th of an inch in thickness, it makes a cylin-
drkftl cell, rounded at the ends and roughly
padded with ligneous fibres. A solid plug
of shavings barricades the entrance, which
is not preceded by any vestibule. Here the
work of deliverance is the simplest. 7'he

Saprrda has only to dent the door of his

chamber to find beneath his mandibles the
little bit of bark that remains to be pierced.
As you see, we once more have to do with
two specialists, each working in his own man-
Ml wiili the same tools.

I lie Buprestes, as zealous as the Longi-
corns in the destruction of trees, whether
lOUfld <•) ailing, tell us the same tale as the
( 'rr.imhvv and Saperda -beetles. The Bronze

Bupreitis (B. anca) is an inmate of the black
poplar. Her larva gnaws the interior of

the Irimk. lor (he nymphosis il installs it-
••< II near the surface in a flattened, oval cell,
which is prolonged at the back by the wan-
dering-gallery, firmly packed with wormed

wood, and in Ironl h\ a short, slightly curved

vestibule. A layer of wood not a twenty-fifth
ata

The Problem of the Sirex

of an inch thick is left intact at the end of the
vestibule. There is no other defensive pre-
caution; no barricade, no heap of shavings.
In order to come out, the insect has only to
pierce an insignificant sheet of wood and then
the bark.

The Nine-spotted Buprestis {Ptoshna
novemmaculata) behaves in the apricot-tree
precisely as the Bronze Buprestis does in the
poplar. Its larva bores the inside of the
trunk with very low-ceilinged galleries,
usually parallel with the axis; then, at a dis-
tance of an inch and a quarter or an inch and
a half from the surface, it suddenly makes
a sharp turn and proceeds in the direction of
the bark. It tunnels straight ahead, taking
the shortest road, instead of advancing by ir-
regular windings as at first. Moreover, a
sensitive intuition of coming events inspires
its chisel to alter the plan of work. The
perfect insect is a cylinder ; the grub, wide in
the thorax but slender elsewhere, is a strap,
a ribbon. The first, with its unyielding
cuirass, needs a cylindrical passage; the sec-
ond needs a very low tunnel, with a roof that
will give a purchase to the ambulatory nip-
ples of the back. The larva therefore
changes its manner of boring utterly : yester-
day, the gallery, suited to a wandering life
213

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

in the thickness of the wood, was a wide bur-
row with a very low ceiling, almost a slot;
to-day the passage is cylindrical: a gimlet
could not bore it more accurately. This sud-
den change in the system of road-making on
behalf of the coming insect once more sug-
gests for our meditation the eminent degree
of foresight possessed by a bit of an intes-
tine.

The cylindrical exit-way passes through
the strata of wood along the shortest line,
almost normally, after a slight bend which
connects the vertical with the horizontal, a
curve with a radius large enough to allow the
stiff Buprestis to tack about without diffi-
culty. It ends in a blind-alley, less than a
twelfth of an inch from the surface of the
wood. The eating away of the untouched
sheet of wood and of the bark is all the la-
bour that the grub leaves the insect to per-
form. Having made these preparations,
the larva withdraws, strengthening the
wooden screen, however, with a layer of fine
sawdust; it reaches the end of the round
gallery, which is prolonged by the completely
choked flat gallery; and here, scorning a spe-
cial chamber or any upholstery, it goes to
sleep for the nymphosis, with its head to-
wards the exit.

214

The Problem of the Sirex

I find numbers of specimens of a black
Buprestis (B. octoguttata) in the old stumps
of pine-trees left standing in the ground,
hard outside but soft within, where the wood
is as pliable as tinder. In this yielding sub-
stance, which has a resinous aroma, the
larvae spend their life. For the metamor-
phosis they leave the unctuous regions of the
centre and penetrate the hard wood, where
they hollow out oval recesses, slightly flat-
tened, measuring from twenty-five to thirty
millimetres 1 in length. The major axis of
these cells is always vertical. They are
continued by a wide exit-path, sometimes
straight, sometimes slightly curved, accord-
ing as the tree is to be quitted through the
section above or through the side. The exit-
channel is nearly always bored completely;
the window by which the insect escapes opens
directly upon the outside world. At most,
in a few rare instances, the grub leaves the
Buprestis the trouble of piercing a leaf of
wood so thin as to be translucent. But, if
easy paths are necessary to the insect, pro-
tective ramparts are no less needed for the
safety of the nymphosis; and the larva plugs
the liberating channel with a fine paste of
masticated wood, very different from the or-

1 «975 t0 I,I7 inch. — Translator's Note.
215

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

dinary sawdust. A layer of the same paste
divides the bottom of the chamber from the
low-ceilinged gallery, the work of the grub's
active life. Lastly, the magnifying-glass re-
veals upon the walls of the cell a tapestry of
woody fibres, very finely divided, standing
erect and closely shorn, so as to make a sort
of velvet pile. This quilted lining, of which
the Cerambyx of the Oak showed us the first
example, is, it seems to me, pretty often em-
ployed by the wood-eaters, Buprestes as well
as Longicorns.

After these migrants, which travel from
the centre of the tree to the surface, we will
mention some others which from the surface
plunge into the interior. A small Buprestis
who ravages the cherry-trees, Anthaxia niti-
dula, passes his larval existence between the
wood and the bark. When the time comes
for changing its shape, the pigmy concerns
itself, like the others, with future and present
needs. To assist the perfect insect, the grub
first gnaws the under side of the bark, leaving
a thin screen of cuticle untouched, and then
sinks in the wood a perpendicular well,
blocked with unresisting sawdust. That is
on behalf of the future: the frail Buprestis
will be able to leave without hindrance. The
bottom of the well, better wrought than the
ai6

The Problem of the Sirex

rest and ceiled with the aid of an adhesive
fluid which holds the fine sawdust of the stop-
per in place, is a thing of the present; it is
the nymphosis-chamber.

A second Buprestis, Chrysobothrys chryso-
stigma, likewise an exploiter of the cherry-
tree, between the wood and the bark, al-
though more vigorous, expends less labour
on its preparations. Its chamber, with mod-
estly varnished walls, is merely an expanded
extension of the ordinary gallery. The
grub, disinclined for persistent labour, does
not bore the wood. It confines itself to hol-
lowing a slanting dug-out in the bark, with-
out touching the surface layer, through which
the insect will have to gnaw its own way.

Thus each species displays special me-
thods, tricks of the trade which cannot be
explained merely by reference to its tools.
As these minute details have consequences of
some importance, I do not hesitate to mul-
tiply them : they all help to throw light upon
the subject which we are investigating. Let
us once more see what the Longicorns are
able to tell us.

An inhabitant of old pine-stumps, Crioce-

phalus ferus makes an exit-gallery which

yawns widely on the outside world, opening

either on the section of the stump or on the

217

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

sides. The road is barricaded about two
inches down with a long plug of coarse shav-
ings. Next comes the nymph's cylindrical,
compressed apartment, which is padded with
woody fibres. It is continued underneath by
the labyrinth of the larva, the burrow
crammed full of digested wood. Note also
the complete boring of the liberating passage,
including the bark when there is any.

I find Stromatium strepens in ilex-logs
which have been stripped of their bark.
There is the same method of deliverance,
the same passage curving gently towards the
nearest outside point, the same barricade of
shavings above the cell. Was the passage
also carried through the bark? The
stripped logs leave me ignorant as to this
detail.

Clytus tropicus, a sapper of the cherry-
tree, C. arietis and C. arvicola, sappers of
the hawthorn, have a cylindrical exit-gallery,
with a sharp turn to it. The gallery is
masked on the outside by a remnant of bark
or wood, hardly a millimetre thick,1 and
widens, not far from the surface, into a
nymphosis-chamber, which is divided from
the burrow by a mass of packed sawdust.

To continue the subject would entail an

1 .039 inch. — Translator's Note.
218

The Problem of the Sirex

excess of monotonous repetition. The gen-
eral law stands out very clearly from these
few data : the wood-eating grubs of the
Longicorns and Buprestes prepare the path
of deliverance for the perfect insect, which
will have merely in one case to pass a barri-
cade of shavings or wormed wood, or in an-
other to pierce a slight thickness of wood or
bark. Thanks to a curious reversal of its
usual attributes, youth is here the season of
energy, of strong tools, of stubborn work;
adult age is the season of leisure, of industrial
ignorance, of idle diversions, without trade or
profession. The infant has its paradise in
the arms of its mother, its providence; here
the infant, the grub, is the providence of the
mother. With its patient tooth, which
neither the perils of the outside world nor
the difficult task of boring through hard wood
are able to deter, it clears a way for her to
the supreme delights of the sun. The young-
ster prepares an easy life for the adult.

Can these armour-wearers, so sturdy in
appearance, be weaklings? I place nymphs
of all the species that come to hand in glass
tubes of the same diameter as the natal cell,
lined with coarse paper, which will provide
a good purchase for the boring. The ob-
stacle to be pierced varies: a cork a centi-
219

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

metre thick; ■ a plug of poplar, very much
softened by decay; a circular disk of sound
wood. Most of my captives easily pierce
the cork and the soft wood; these represent
to them the barricade to be overthrown, the
bark curtain to be perforated. A few, how-
ever, succumb before the front to be attacked ;
and all perish, after fruitless attempts, be-
fore the disk of hard wood. Thus perished
the strongest of them all, the Great Capri-
corn, in my artificial oak-wood cells and even
in my reed-stumps closed with their natural
partitions.

They have not the strength, or rather the
patient art; and the larva, more highly gifted,
works for them. It gnaws with indomi-
table perseverance, an essential to success
even for the strong; it digs with amazing
foresight. It knows the future shape of the
adult, whether round or oval, and bores the
exit-passage accordingly, making it cylin-
drical in one case and elliptical in the other.
It knows that the adult is very impatient to
reach the light; and it leads her thither by the
shortest way. In its wandering life in the
heart of the tree, it loves low-roofed, wind-
ing tunnels, just big enough to pass through,
or widening into stations when it strikes a

1 .39 inch. — Translator's Note.
220

The Problem of the Sirex

vein with a better flavour; now, it makes a
short, straight, roomy corridor, leading with
a sharp bend to the outside world. It had
plenty of time during its capricious wander-
ings; the adult has none to spare: his days
are numbered; he must get out as quickly
as he can. Hence the shortest road and as
little encumbered by obstacles as is consistent
with safety. The grub knows that the too
sudden junction of the horizontal and the
vertical part would stop the stiff, inflexible
insect and bends it towards the outside with
a gentle curve. This elbow changing the
direction occurs whenever the larva ascends
from the depths; it is very short when the
nymphosis-chamber is next to the surface, but
continues for some length when the chamber
is well inside the trunk. In this case, the
path traced by the grub has so regular a
curve that you feel inclined to subject the
work to geometrical measurement.

For want of sufficient data, I should have
left this elbow in the shadow of a note of
interrogation, had I had at my disposal only
the emergence-galleries of the Longicorns
and Buprestes, which are too short to lend
themselves to trustworthy examination with
the compasses. A lucky find provided me
with the factors required. This was the

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

trunk of a dead poplar, riddled, to a height
of several yards, with an infinite number of
round holes the diameter of a pencil. The
precious pole, still standing, is uprooted with
due respect, in view of my designs, and car-
ried into my study, where it is sawn into
longitudinal sections planed smooth.

The wood, while retaining its structure,
has been greatly softened by the presence of
the mycelium of a mushroom, the agaric of
the poplar. The inside is decayed. The
outer layers, to a depth of over four inches,
are in good condition, save for the innumer-
able curved passages that cut through them.
In a section involving the whole diameter of
the trunk, the galleries of the late occupant
produce a pleasing effect, of which a sheaf of
corn gives us a pretty faithful image. Al-
most straight, parallel with one another and
assembled in a bundle down the middle, they
diverge at the top and spread into a cluster
of wide curves, each of which ends in one
of the holes on the surface. It is a sheaf of
passages which has not the single head of a
sheaf of corn, but shoots its innumerable
sprouts hither and thither, at all heights.

I am enraptured by this magnificent speci-
men. The curves, of which I uncover a
layer at every stroke of the plane, far ex-

222

The Problem of the Sirex

ceed my requirements; they are strikingly
regular; they afford the compasses the full
space needed for accurate measurement.

Before calling in geometry, let us, if pos-
sible, name the creator of these beautiful
curves. The inhabitants of the poplar have
disappeared, perhaps long ago, as is proved
by the mycelium of the agaric; the insect
would not gnaw and bore its way through
timber all permeated with the felt-like growth
of the cryptogam. A few weaklings, how-
ever, have died without being able to escape.
I find their remains swathed in mycelium.
The agaric has preserved them from de-
struction by wrapping them in tight cere-
ments. Under these mummy-bandages, I
recognise a Saw-fly, Sirex augur, KLUG.,
in the state of the perfect insect. And —
this is an important detail — all these adult
remains, without a single exception, occupy
spots which have no means of communica-
tion with the outside. I find them some-
times in a partly-constructed curved passage,
beyond which the wood remains intact, some-
times at the end of the straight central gal-
lery, choked with sawdust, which is not con-
tinued in front. These remains, with no
thoroughfare before them, tell us plainly that
the Sirex adopts for its exit methods not
223

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

employed by the Buprestes and the Longi-
corns.

The larva does not prepare the path of
deliverance; it is left for the perfect insect to
open itself a passage through the wood.
What I have before my eyes tells me more
or less plainly the sequence of events. The
larva, whose presence is proved by galleries
blocked with packed sawdust, do not leave
the centre of the trunk, a quieter retreat, less
subject to the vicissitudes of the climate.
Metamorphosis is effected at the junction of
the straight gallery and the curved passage
which is not yet made. When strength
comes, the perfect insect tunnels ahead for a
distance of more than four inches and opens
up the exit-passage, which I find choked, not
with compact sawdust, but with loose pow-
dery rubbish. The dead insects which I
strip of their mycelium-shrouds are weaklings
whose strength deserted them mid-way.
The rest of the passage is lacking because
the labourer died on the road.

With this fact of the insect itself boring
the exit passage, the problem assumes a more
troublesome form. If the larva, rich in lei-
sure and satisfied with its sojourn in the in-
terior of the trunk, simplifies the coming
emergence by shortening the road, what must
224

The Problem of the Sirex

not the adult do, who has so short a time to
live and who is in so great a hurry to leave
the hateful darkness? He above any other
should be a judge of short cuts. To go from
the murky heart of the tree to the sun-
steeped bark, why does he not follow a
straight line? It is the shortest way.

Yes, for the compasses, but not perhaps
for the sapper. The length traversed is not
the only factor of the work accomplished, of
the total activity expended. We must take
into account the resistance overcome, a re-
sistance which varies according to the depth
of the more or less hard strata and accord-
ing to the method of attacking the woody
fibres, which are either broken across or di-
vided lengthwise. Under these conditions,
whose value remains to be determined, can
there be a curve involving a minimum of
mechanical labour in cutting through the
wood?

I was already trying to discover how the
resistance may vary according to depth and
direction; I was working out my differentials
and my minimum integrals, when a very sim-
ple idea overturned my slippery scaffolding.
The calculation of variations has nothing to
do with the matter. The animal is not the
moving body of the mathematicians, the par-
225

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

tide of matter guided in its trajectory solely
by the motive forces and the resistance of
the medium traversed; it bears within itself
conditions which control the others. The
adult insect does not even enjoy the larva's
privileges; it cannot bend freely in all direc-
tions. Under its harness it is almost a stiff
cylinder. To simplify the explanation, we
may liken the insect to a section of an in-
flexible straight line.

Let us return to the Sirex, reduced by ab-
straction to its axis. The metamorphosis is
effected not far from the centre of the trunk.
The insect lies lengthwise in the tree with
its head up, very rarely with its head down.
It must reach the outside as quickly as pos-
sible. The section of an inflexible straight
line that represents it nibbles away a little
wood in front of it and obtains a shallow ca-
vity wide enough to allow of a very slight
turn towards the outside. An infinitesimal
advance is made ; a second follows, the re-
sult of a similar cavity and a similar turn in
the same direction. In short, each change
of position is accompanied by the tiny de-
viation permitted by the slight excess of
width of the hole; and this deviation invari-
ably points the same way. Imagine a mag-
226

The Problem of the Sirex

netic needle swung out of its position and
tending to return to it while moving with a
uniform speed through a resisting medium
in which a sheath of a diameter slightly
greater than the needle's opens bit by bit.
The Sirex behaves more or less in the same
fashion. His magnetic pole is the light out-
side. He makes for that direction by imper-
ceptible deviations as his tooth digs.

The problem of the Sirex is now solved.
The trajectory is composed of equal ele-
ments, with an invariable angle between
them; it is the curve whose tangents, divided
by infinitely small distances, retain the same
inclination between each one and the next;
the curve, in a word, with a constant angle
of contingence. This characteristic betrays
the circumference of the circle.

It remains to discover whether the facts
confirm the logical argument. I take accu-
rate tracings of a score of galleries, selecting
those whose length best lends itself to the
test of the compasses. Well, logic agrees
with reality: over lengths which sometimes
exceed four inches, the track of the com-
passes is identical with that of the insect.
The most pronounced deviations do not ex-
ceed the small variations which we must
227

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

reasonably expect in a problem of a physical
nature, a problem incompatible with the ab-
solute accuracy of abstract truths.

The Sirex' exit-gallery then is a wide arc
of a circle whose lower extremity is con-
nected with the corridor of the larva and
whose upper extremity is prolonged in a
straight line which ends at the surface with
a perpendicular or slightly oblique incidence.
The wide connecting arc enables the insect to
tack about. When, starting from a position
parallel with the axis of the tree, the Sirex
has passed gradually to a transversal posi-
tion, he completes his course in a straight
line, which is the shortest road.

Does the trajectory imply the minimum of
work? Yes, under the conditions of the in-
sect's existence. If the larva had taken the
precaution to place itself in a different di-
rection when preparing for the nymphosis,
to turn its head towards the nearest point of
the bark instead of turning it lengthwise with
the trunk, obviously the adult would escape
more easily: he would merely have to gnaw
straight in front of him in order to pass
through the minimum thickness. But rea-
sons of convenience whereof the grub is the
sole judge, reasons dictated perhaps by
weight, cause the vertical to precede the

The Problem of the Sirex

horizontal position. In order to pass from
the former to the latter, the insect veers
round by describing the arc of a circle.
When this turn has been effected, the distance
is completed in a straight line.

Let us consider the Sirex at his starting-
point. His stiffness of necessity compels him
to turn gradually. Here the insect can do
nothing of its own initiative; everything is
mechanically determined. But, being free
to pivot on its axis and to attack the wood on
either side of the sheath, it has the option of
attempting this reversal in a host of different
ways, by a series of connected arcs, not in
the same plane. Nothing prevents it from
describing winding curves by revolving upon
itself: spirals, loops constantly changing
their direction, in fact, the complicated route
of a creature that has lost its way. It might
wander in a tortuous maze, making fresh at-
tempts here, there and everywhere, groping
for ever so long without succeeding.

But it does not grope and it succeeds very
well. Its gallery is still contained within
one plane, the first condition of the minimum
of labour. Moreover, of the different
vertical planes that can pass through the
eccentric starting-point, one, the plane which
passes through the axis of the tree, cor-

220

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

responds on the one side with the minimum
of resistance to be overcome and on the other
with the maximum. Nothing prevents the
Sirex from tracing his path in any one of the
multitude of planes on which the path would
possess an intermediate value between the
shortest and the longest. The insect refuses
them all and constantly adopts the one which
passes through the axis, choosing, of course,
the side that entails the shortest path. In
brief, the Sirex' gallery is contained in a plane
pointing towards the axis of the tree and the
starting-point; and of the two portions of this
plane the channel passes through the less ex-
tensive. Under the conditions, therefore,
imposed upon him by his stiffness the hermit
of the poplar-tree releases himself with the
minimum of mechanical labour.

The miner guides himself by the compass
in the unknown depths underground, the
sailor does the same in the unknown ocean
solitudes. How does the wood-eating insect
guide itself in the thickness of a tree-trunk?
Has it a compass? One would almost say
that it had, so successfully does it keep to the
quickest road. Its goal is the light. To
reach this goal, it suddenly chooses the
economical plane trajectory, after spending
its larval leisure in roaming tortuous pass-
230

The Problem of the Sirex

ages full of irregular curves; it bends it in
an arc which allows it to turn about; and,
with its head held plumb with the adjacent
surface, it goes straight ahead by the nearest
way.

The most extraordinary obstacles are
powerless to turn it aside from its plane
and its curve, so imperative is its guiding
force. It will gnaw metal, if need be, rather
than turn its back upon the light, which it
feels to be close at hand. The entomo-
logical records place this incredible fact be-
yond a doubt. At the time of the Crimean
War, the Institut de France received some
packets of cartridges in which the bullets had
been perforated by Sirex juvencus; a little
later, at the Grenoble Arsenal, <S. gigas carved
himself a similar exit. The larva was in
the wood of the cartridge-boxes; and the
adult insect, faithful to its direction of escape,
had bored through the lead because the near-
est daylight was behind that obstacle.

There is an exit-compass, that is incon-
testable, both for the larvae preparing the
passage of deliverance and for the adult in-
sect, the Sirex obliged to make that passage
for himself. What is it? Here the prob-
lem becomes surrounded with a darkness
which is perhaps impenetrable; we are not
231

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

well enough equipped with means of re-
ceiving impressions even to imagine the causes
which guide the creature. There is, in cer-
tain events, another world of the senses in
which our organs perceive nothing, a world
which is closed to us. The eye of the
camera sees the invisible and photographs
the image of the ultra-violet rays; the tym-
panum of the microphone hears what to us
is silence. A scientific toy, a chemical con-
trivance surpass us in sensibility. Would
it be rash to attribute similar faculties to
the delicate organization of the insect, even
with regard to agencies unknown to our
science, because they do not fall within the
domain of our senses? To this question
there is no positive reply; we have suspicions
and nothing more. Let us at least dispel
a few false notions that might occur to us.

Does the wood guide the insect, adult or
larva, by its structure? Gnawed across the
grain, it must produce a certain impression;
gnawed lengthwise, it must produce a dif-
ferent impression. Is there not something
here to guide the sapper? No, for in the
stump of a tree left standing the emergence
takes place, according to the proximity of the
light, sometimes by way of the horizontal
section, by means of a rectilinear path run-
232

The Problem of the Sirex

ning along the grain, and sometimes by way
of the side, by means of a curved road cut-
ting across the grain.

- Is the compass a chemical influence, or
electrical, or calorific, or what not? No,
for in an upright trunk the emergence is ef-
fected as often by the north face, which is
always in the shade, as by the south face,
which receives the sun all day long. The
exit-door opens in the side which is nearest,
without any other condition. Can it be the
temperature? Not that either, for the shady
side, though cooler, is utilized as often as
the side facing the sun.

Can it be sound? Not so. The sound
of what, in the silence of solitude ? And are
the noises of the outside world propagated
through half an inch of wood in such a way
as to make differences perceptible? Can it
be weight? No again, for the trunk of the
poplar shows us more than one Sirex travel-
ling upside down, with his head towards the
ground, without any change in the direction
of the curved passages.

What then is the guide ? I have no idea.
It is not the first time that this obscure quest-
ion has been put to me. When studying the
emergence of the Three-pronged Osmia from
the bramble-stems shifted from their natural
233

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

position by my wiles, I recognized the un-
certainty in which the evidence of physical
science leaves us; and, in the impossibility of
finding any other reply, I suggested a special
sense, the sense of open space. Instructed
by the Sirex, the Buprestes, the Longicorns,
I am once again compelled to make the same
suggestion. It is not that I care for the
expression: the unknown cannot be named
in any language. It means that the hermits
in the dark know how to find the light by the
shortest road; it is the confessions of an
ignorance which no honest observer will blush
to share. Now that the evolutionists' in-
terpretations of instinct have been recognized
as worthless, we all come to that stimulating
maxim of Anaxagoras', which laconically
sums up the result of my researches:

" Nov? irdvra SicKoafxrjac. Mind orders all
things."

234

CHAPTER IX

THE DUNG-BEETLES OF THE PAMPAS

/TPO travel the world, by land and sea,
■"■ from pole to pole; to cross-question
life, under every clime, in the infinite variety
of its manifestations: that surely would be
glorious luck for him that has eyes to see;
and it formed the radiant dream of my young
years, at the time when Robinson Crusoe was
my delight. These rosy illusions, rich in
voyages, were soon succeeded by dull, stay-at-
home reality. The jungles of India, the
virgin forests of Brazil, the towering crests
of the Andes, beloved by the Condor, were
reduced, as a field for exploration, to a patch
of pebbles enclosed within four walls.

Heaven forfend that I should complain!
The gathering of ideas does not necessarily
imply distant expeditions. Jean-Jacques
Rousseau x herborized with the bunch of
chick-weed whereon he fed his Canary;
Bernardin de Saint-Pierre 2 discovered a

1 Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778), author of the
Confessions, La Nouvelle Heloise, etc. — Translator's Note.

2 Jacques Henri Bernardin de Saint-Pierre (1737-

235

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

world on a strawberry-plant that grew by
accident in a corner of his window; Xavier
de Maistre,1 using an arm-chair by way of
post-chaise, made one of the most famous
of journeys around his room.

This manner of seeing country is within
my means, always excepting the post-chaise,
which is too difficult to drive through the
bushes. I go the circuit of my enclosure
over and over again, a hundred times,
by short stages; I stop here and I stop
there; patiently, I put questions and, at
long intervals, I receive some scrap of a
reply.

The smallest insect village has become
familiar to me: I know each fruit-branch
where the Praying Mantis2 perches; each
bush where the pale Italian Cricket 3 strums
amid the calmness of the summer nights;
each downy plant scraped by the Anthidium,
that maker of cotton bags; each cluster of
lilac worked by the Megachile, the Leaf-cut-
ter.

1814), author of Paul et Virginie, La Chaumiere idienne
and Etudes de la nature. — Translator's Note.

1 Xavier de Maistre (1763-1852), best known for his
Voyage autour de ma chambre (1795). — Translator's
Note.

2 Cf. The Life of the Grasshopper: chaps, vi. to ix. —
Translator's Note.

3 Cf. idem: chap. xvi. — Translator's Note.

236

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

If cruising among the nooks and corners
of the garden do not suffice, a longer voyage
shows ample profit. I double the cape of
the neighbouring hedges and, at a few hun-
dred yards, enter into relations with the
Sacred Beetle,1 the Capricorn, the Geotru-
pes,2 the Copris,3 the Decticus,4 the Cricket,5
the Green Grasshopper,6 in short, with a host
of tribes the telling of whose story would ex-
haust a lifetime. Certainly, I have enough
and even too much to do with my near neigh-
bours, without leaving home to rove in distant
lands.

Besides, roaming the world, scattering
one's attention over a host of subjects, is not
observing. The travelling entomologist can
stick numerous species, the joy of the collector
and the nomenclator, into his boxes; but to
gather circumstantial evidence is a very dif-
ferent matter. A Wandering Jew of science,
he has no time to stop. Where a prolonged
stay would be necessary to study this or that

1 Cf. The Sacred Beetle and Others, by J. Henri Fabre,
translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chaps i. to
vi. — Translator's Note.

2 Cf . idem : chaps, xii. to xiv. — Translator's Note.
8 Cf . idem: chaps, ix and xvi. — Translator's Note.

* Cf . The Life of the Grasshopper: chaps, xi to xiii. —
Translator's Note.

5 Cf. idem: chaps, xv and xvi. — Translator's Note.

6 Cf . idem: chap. xiv. — Translator's Note.

237

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

fact, he is hurried past the next stage. We
must not expect the impossible of him under
these conditions. Let him pin his specimens
to cork tablets, let him steep them in jars of
spirit, and leave to the sedentary the patient
observations that require time.

This explains the extreme penury of his-
tory outside the dry descriptions of the
nomenclator. Overwhelming us with its
numbers, the exotic insect nearly always pre-
serves the secret of its manners. Neverthe-
less, it were well to compare what happens
under our eyes with that which happens else-
where; it were excellent to see how, in the
same guild of workers, the fundamental in-
stinct varies with climatic conditions.

Then my longing to travel returns, vainer
to-day than ever, unless one could find a seat
on that carpet of which we read in the
Arabian Nights, the famous carpet whereon
one had but to sit to be carried whitherso-
ever he pleased. O marvellous conveyance,
far preferable to Xaxier de Maistre's post-
chaise! If I could only find just a little
corner on it, with a return-ticket !

I do find it. I owe this unexpected good

fortune to a Brother of the Christian Schools,

to Brother Judulien, of the La Salle College

at Buenos Aires. His modesty would be of-

238

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

fended by the praises which his debtor owes
him. Let us simply say that, acting on my
instructions, his eyes take the place of mine.
He seeks, finds, observes, sends me his notes
and his discoveries. I observe, seek and
find with him, by correspondence.

It is done ; thanks to this first-rate col-
laborator, I have my seat on the magic
carpet. Behold me in the pampas of the
Argentine Republic, eager to draw a parallel
between the industry of the Serignan 1 Dung-
beetles and that of their rivals in the western
hemisphere.

A glorious beginning! An accidental
find procures me, to begin with, the Splendid
Phanaeus (P. splendidulus) , who combines
a coppery effulgence with the sparkling green
of the emerald. One is quite astonished to
see so rich a gem load its basket with ordure.
It is the jewel on the dung-hill. The corselet
of the male is grooved with a wide hollow
and he sports a pair of sharp-edged pinions
on his shoulders; on his forehead he plants
a horn which vies with that of the Spanish
Copris. While equally rich in metallic
splendour, his mate has no fantastic embel-
lishments, which are an exclusive prerogative

1 Serignan, in Provence, where the author ended his
days. — Translator's Note.

239

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

of masculine dandyism among the Dung-
beetles of La Plata as among our own.

Now what can the gorgeous foreigner do?
Precisely what the Lunary Copris * does with
us. Settling, like the other, under a flat cake
of Cow-dung, the South American Beetle
kneads egg-shaped loaves underground.
Not a thing is forgotten: the round belly
with the largest volume and the smallest sur-
face; the hard rind which acts as a pre-
servative against premature desiccation; the
terminal nipple where the egg is lodged in a
hatching-chamber; and, at the end of the
nipple, the felt stopper which admits the air
needed by the germ.

All these things I have seen here and I
see over there, almost at the other end of
the world. Life, ruled by inflexible logic,
repeats itself in its works, for what is true
in one latitude cannot be false in another.
We go very far afield in search of a new
spectacle to meditate upon; and we have an
inexhaustible specimen before our eyes, be-
tween the walls of our enclosure.

Settled under the sumptuous dish dropped
by the Ox, the Phanaeus, one would think,
ought to make the very best use of it and

1 Cf. The Sacred Beetle and Others: chap. xvi. — Trans-
lator's Note.

240

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

to stock her burrow with a number of ovoids,
after the example of the Lunary Copris.
She does nothing of the sort, preferring to
roam from one find to the other and to take
from each the wherewithal to model a single
pellet, which is left to itself for the soil to
incubate. She is not driven to practise
economy even when she is working the pro-
duce of the Sheep far from the pastures of
the Argentine.

Can this be because the jewel of the
pampas dispenses with the father's collabor-
ation? I dare not follow up the argument,
for the Spanish Copris would give me the
lie, by showing me the mother occupied alone
in settling the family and nevertheless stock-
ing her one pit with a number of pellets.
Each has her share of customs the secret
of which escapes us.

The two next, Megathopa bicolor and M.
intermedia, have certain points of resem-
blance with the Sacred Beetle, for whose
ebon hue they substitute a blue black. The
first besides brightens his corselet with mag-
nificent copper reflections. With their long
legs, their forehead with its radiating
denticulations and their flattened wing-cases,
they are fairly successful smaller editions of
the famous pill-roller.
241

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

They also share her talent. The work of
both is once again a sort of pear, but con-
structed in a more ingenious fashion, with
an almost conical neck and without any ele-
gant curves. From the point of view of
beauty, it falls short of the Sacred Bertie's
work. Considering the tools, which have
ample free play and are well adapted for
clasping, I expected something better from
the two modellers. No matter: the work of
the Megathopae conforms with the funda-
mental art of the other pill-rollers.

A fourth, Bolbites onitoides, compensates
us for repetitions which, it is true, widen the
scope of the problem but teach us nothing
new. She is a handsome Beetle with a
metallic costume, green or copper-red ac-
cording as the light happens to fall. Her
four-cornered shape and her long, toothed
fore-legs make her resemble our Onites.1

In her, the Dung-beetles' guild reveals it-
self under a very unexpected aspect. We
know insects that knead soft loaves; and
here are some which, to keep their bread
fresh, discover ceramics and become potters,
working clay in which they pack the food of
the larvae. Before my housekeeper, before

lCf. The Sacred Beetle and Others: chap, xvi.—
Translator's Note.

242

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

any of us, they knew how, with the aid of a
round jar, to keep the provisions from dry-
ing during the summer heats. The work of
the Bolbites is an ovoid, hardly differing in
shape from that of the Copres; but this is
where the ingenuity of the American insect
shines forth. The inner mass, the usual
dung-cake furnished by the Cow or the Sheep,
is covered with a perfectly homogeneous and
continuous coating of clay, which makes a
piece of solid pottery impervious to evapor-
ation.

The earthen pot is exactly filled by its con-
tents, without the slightest interval along the
line of junction. This detail tells us the
worker's method. The jar is moulded on
the provisions. After the food-pellet has
been formed in the ordinary baker's fashion
and the egg laid in its hatching-chamber, the
Bolbites takes some armfuls of the clay near
at hand, applies it to the foodstuff and presses
it down. When the work is finished and
smoothed to perfection with indefatigable
patience, the tiny pot, built up piecemeal,
looks as though made with the wheel and
rivals our own earthenware in regularity.

The hatching-chamber, in which the egg
lies, is, as usual, contrived in the nipple at
the end of the pear. How will the germ and
243

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

the young larva manage to breathe under
that clay casing, which intercepts the access
of the air?

Have no fears : the pot-maker knows quite
well how matters stand. She takes good
care not to close the top with the plastic
earth which supplied her with the walls. At
some distance from the tip of the nipple,
the clay ceases to play its part and makes
way for fibrous particles, for tiny scraps of
undigested fodder, which, arranged one
above the other with a certain order, form a
sort of thatched roof over the egg. The
inward and outward passage of the air is
assured through this coarse screen.

One is set thinking in the presence of this
layer of clay, which protects the fresh pro-
visions, and this vent-hole stopped with a
truss of straw, w«hich admits the air freely,
while defending the entrance. There is the
eternal question, if we do not rise above the
commonplace : how did the insect acquire so
wise an art?

Not one fails in obeying those two laws,

the safety of the egg and ready ventilation;

not one, not even the next on my list, whose

talent opens up a new horizon: I am now

speaking of Lacordaire's Gromphas. Let

not this repellant name of Gromphas (the old
244

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

sow) give us a wrong notion of the insect.
On the contrary, it is, like the last, an elegant
Dung-beetle, dark-bronze, thickset, square-
shaped like our Bison Onitis * and almost as
large. It also practises the same industry,
at least as regards the general effect of the
work.

Its burrow branches into a small number
of cylindrical cells, forming the homes of
as many larvae. For each of these the pro-
visions consist of a parcel of Cow-dung,
about an inch deep. The material is care-
fully packed and fills the bottom of the cavity,
just as a soft paste would do when pressed
down in a mould. Until now the work is
similar to that of the Bison Onitis; but the
resemblance goes no farther and is replaced
by profound and curious differences, having
no connection with what the Dung-beetles of
our own parts show us.

As we know, our sausage-makers, Onites
and Geotrupes alike, place the egg at the
lower end of their cylinder, in a cell con-
trived in the very midst of the mass of food-
stuffs. Their rival in the pampas adopts
a diametrically opposite method: she places
the egg above the victuals, at the upper end

> Cf. The Sacred Beetle and Others: chap, xvi.— Trans-
lator's Note.

245

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

of the sausage. In order to feed, the grub
does not have to work upwards ; on the con-
trary, it works downwards.

More remarkable still: the egg does not
lie immediately on top of the provisions; it
is installed in a clay chamber with a wall
about one-twelfth of an inch in thickness.
This wall forms an hermetically-sealed lid,
curves into a cup and then rises and bends
over to make a vaulted ceiling.

The germ is thus enclosed in a mineral
box, having no connection with the provision-
store, which is kept strictly shut. The new-
born grub must employ the first efforts of its
teeth to break the seals, to cut through the
clay floor and to make a trap-door which will
take it to the underlying cake.

A rough beginning for the feeble mandible,
even though the material to be bored through
is a fine clay. Other grubs bite at once into
a soft bread which surrounds them on every
side; this one, on leaving the egg, has to
make a breach in a wall before taking nour-
ishment.

Of what use are these obstacles? I do
not doubt that they have their purpose. If
the grub is born at the bottom of a closed pot,
if it has to chew through brick to reach the
larder, I feel sure that certain conditions of
246

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

its well-being demand this. But what con-
ditions? To become acquainted with them
would call for an examination on the spot;
and all the data that I possess are a few
nests, lifeless things very difficult to inter-
rogate. However, it is possible to catch a
glimpse of one or two points.

The Gromphas' burrow is shallow; those
little cylinders, her loaves, are greatly ex-
posed to drought. Over there, as here, the
drying up of the victuals constitutes a mortal
danger. To avert this peril, by far the most
sensible course is to enclose the food in ab-
solutely shut vessels.

Well, the receptacle is dug in very fine,
homogeneous, water-tight earth, with not a
bit of gravel, not an atom of sand in it. To-
gether with the lid that forms the bottom of
its round chamber, in which the egg is lodged,
this cavity becomes an urn whose contents
are safe from drought for a long time, even
under a scorching sun. However late the
hatching, the new-born grub, on finding the
lid, will have under its teeth provisions as
fresh as though they dated from that very
day.

The clay food-pit, with its closely-fitting
lid, is an excellent method, than which our
agricultural experts have discovered no bet-
247

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

ter way of preserving fodder; but it possesses
one drawback: to reach the stack of food,
the grub has first to open a passage through
the floor of its chamber. Instead of the pap
called for by its weakly stomach, it begins by
finding a brick to chew.

The rude task would be avoided if the
egg lay directly on top of the victuals, inside
the case itself. Here our logic is at fault:
it forgets an essential point, which the insect
is careful not to disregard. The germ
breathes. Its development requires air; and
the perfectly-closed clay urn does not allow
any air to enter. The grub has to be born
outside the pot.

Agreed. But, in the matter of breathing,
the egg is no better off for being shut up, on
top of the provisions, in a clay casket quite
as air-tight as the jar itself. Examine the
thing more closely, however, and you will
receive a satisfactory reply. The walls of
the hatching-chamber are carefully glazed in-
side. The mother has taken meticulous
pains to give them a stucco-like finish. The
vaulted ceiling alone is rugged, because the
building-tool now works from the outside and
is unable to reach the inner surface of the lid
and smooth it. Moreover, in the centre of
this curved and embossed ceiling, a small
248

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

opening has been made. This is the air-
hole, which allows of gaseous exchanges be-
tween the atmosphere inside the box and that
outside.

If it were entirely free, this opening would
be dangerous: some plunderer might take ad-
vantage of it to enter the casket. The
mother foresees the risk. She blocks the
breathing-hole with a plug made of the
ravelled vegetable fibres of the Cow-dung, a
stopper which is eminently permeable. It is
an exact repetition of that which the various
modellers have shown us at the top of their
calabashes and pears. All of them are ac-
quainted with the nice secret of the felt stop-
per as a means of ventilating the egg in a
water-tight enclosure.

Your name is not an attractive one, my
pretty Dung-beetle of the pampas, but your
industrial methods are most remarkable. I
know some among your fellow-countrymen,
however, who surpass you in ingenuity. One
of these is Phanaus Milon, a magnificent in-
sect, blue-black all over.

. The male's corselet juts forward. On the
head is a short, broad, flattened horn, end-
ing in a trident. The female replaces this
ornament by simple folds. Both carry on
the forehead two spikes which form a trusty
249

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

digging-implement and also a scalpel for dis-
secting. The insect's squat, sturdy, four-
cornered build resembles that of Onitis
Olivieri, one of the rarities of the neighbour-
hood of Montpellier.

If similarity of shape implied purity of
work, we ought unhesitatingly to attribute to
Phanaus Milon short, thick puddings like
those made by Olivier's Onitis.1 Alas,
structure is a bad guide where instinct is con-
cerned! The square-chined, short-legged
Dung-beetle excels in the art of manufactur-
ing gourds. The Sacred Beetle herself sup-
plies none that are more correctly shaped nor,
above all, more capacious.

The thickset insect astonishes me with the
elegance of its work, which is irreproachable
in its geometry : the neck is shorter, but never-
theless combines grace with strength. The
model seems derived from some Indian cala-
bash, the more so as it has an open mouth
and the belly is engraved with an elegant
engine-turned pattern, produced by the in-
sect's tarsi. One seems to see a pitcher pro-
tected by a wickerwork covering. The

1 1 owe this detail on the work of Olivier's Onitis to a
note and a sketch communicated by Professor Valery-
Mayer, of the Montpellier School of Agriculture. —
Author's Note.

250

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

whole attains and even exceeds the size of a
Hen's egg.

It is a very curious piece of work and of
a rare perfection, especially when we con-
sider the artist's clumsy and massive build.
No, once again, the tool does not make the
workman, among Dung-beetles any more
than among ourselves. To guide the model-
ler there is something better than a set of
tools: there is what I have called the bump,
the genius of the animal.

Phanaus Milon scoffs at difficulties. He
does much more than that: he laughs at our
classifications. The word Dung-beetle im-
plies a lover of dung. He sets no value on
it, either for his own use or for that of his
offspring. What he wants is the sanies of
corpses. He is to be found under the car-
casses of birds, Dogs or Cats, in the com-
pany of the undertakers-in-ordinary. The
gourd which I will presently describe was
lying in the earth under the remains of an
Owl.

Let him who will explain this conjunction
of the appetites of the Necrophorus * with
the talents of the Sacred Beetle. As for me,
baffled by tastes which no one would suspect

i Or Burying-beetle. Cf. Chapters XL and XII. of the
present volume. — Translator's Note.
25*

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

from the mere appearance of the insect, I
give it up.

I know in my neighbourhood one Dung-
beetle and one alone who also works among
carrion. This is Onthophagus ovatus, LIN.,
a constant frequenter of dead Moles
and Rabbits. But the dwarf undertaker
does not on that account scorn stercoraceous
fare: he feasts upon it like the other On-
thophagi. Perhaps there is a twofold diet
here: the bun for the adult; the highly-spiced,
far-gone meat for the grub.

Similar facts are encountered elsewhere,
with differing tastes. The Hunting Wasp
takes her fill of honey drawn from the nec-
taries of the flowers, but feeds her little ones
on game. Game first and then sugar, for
the same stomach! How that digestive
pouch must change during development!
And yet no more than our own, which scorns
in later life the food that delighted it when
young.

Let us now examine the work of Phanaus
Milon more thoroughly. The calabashes
reached me in a state of complete desiccation.
They are very nearly as hard as stone ; their
colour inclines to a pale chocolate. Neither
inside nor out does the lens discover the
slightest ligneous particle pointing to a vege-
253

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

table residue. The strange Dung-beetle does
not, therefore, use cakes of Cow-dung or
anything like them; he handles products of
another class, which at first are rather
difficult to specify.

Held to the ear and shaken, the object
rattles slightly, as would the shell of a dry
fruit with a stone lying free inside it. Does
it contain the grub, shrivelled by desiccation?
Does it contain the dead insect? I thought
so, but I was wrong. It contains something
much more instructive than that.

I carefully rip up the gourd with the point
of a knife. Within a homogenous wall,
whose thickness is over three-quarters of an
inch in the largest of my three specimens,
is encased a spherical kernel, which fills the
cavity exactly, but without sticking to the wall
at any part. The small amount of free play
allowed to this kernel accounts for the
rattling which I heard when I shook the
thing.

In the colour and general appearance of
the whole, the kernel does not differ from the
wrapper. But break it open and minutely
examine the pieces. We now recognize tiny
fragments of bone, flocks of down, threads
of wool, scraps of flesh, the whole mixed in
an earthy paste resembling chocolate,
253

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

This paste, when placed on hot charcoal,
sifted under the lens and deprived of its part-
icles of dead bodies, becomes much darker,
is covered with shiny bubbles and sends forth
puffs of that acrid smoke by which we so
readily recognize burnt animal matter. The
whole mass of the kernel, therefore, is
strongly impregnated with sanies.

Treated in the same manner, the wrapper
also turns black, but not to the same extent;
it hardly smokes; it does not become covered
with jet-black bubbles; lastly, it would not
anywhere contain bits of carcase similar to
those in the central kernel. In both cases,
the residue after calcination is a fine, red-
dish clay.

This brief analysis tells us all about the
table of Phanaas Milon. The fare served
to the grub is a sort of meat-pie. The
sausage-meat consists of a mince of all that
the two scalpels of the forehead and the
toothed knives of the fore-legs have been able
to remove from the corpse: hair and down,
small crushed bones, strips of flesh and skin.
Now hard as brick, the thickening of this
mincemeat was originally a paste of fine clay
steeped in the liquor of corruption. Lastly,
the light crust of our meat-pies is here re-
presented by a covering of the same clay,
254

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

less rich in extract of meat than the other.

The pastry-cook gives his work an ele-
gant shape; he decorates it with rosettes,
with twists, with scrolls. Phanaus Milon
is no stranger to these culinary aesthetics.
She turns the crust of her meat-pie into a
splendid gourd, with a finger-print orna-
mentation.

The outer covering, an unprofitable crust,
insufficiently steeped in savoury juices, is not,
we can easily guess, intended for consumpt-
ion. It is possible that, somewhat later,
when the stomach becomes robust and is not
repelled by coarse fare, the grub scrapes a
little from the sides of its pasty walls; but,
until the adult insect emerges, the calabash
as a whole remains intact, having acted at
first as a safeguard of the freshness of the
force-meat and all the while as a protecting
casket for the recluse.

Above the cold pastry, right at the base
of the neck of the gourd, is contrived a round
cell with a clay wall continuing the general
wall. A fairly thick floor, made of the same
material, separates it from the store-room.
This is the hatching-chamber. Here is laid
the egg, which I find in its place but dried up ;
here is hatched the grub, which, to reach the
ball of food, must first open a trap-door
255

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

through the partition that separates the two
stories.

We have here, in short, the edifice of the
Gromphas, in a different style of architecture.
The grub is born in a casket surmounting the
stack of food but not communicating with it.
The budding larva must therefore, at the
opportune moment, itself pierce the covering
of the pot of preserves. As a matter of fact,
later, when the grub is on the sausage-meat,
we find the floor perforated with a hole just
large enough for it to pass through.

Wrapped all round in a thick casing of
pottery, the meat keeps fresh as long as is
required by the duration of the hatching-
process, a detail which I have not ascer-
tained; in its cell, which is also of clay, the
egg lies safe. Capital; so far, all is well.
Phanaeus Milon is thoroughly acquainted
with the secrets of fortification and the
danger of victuals evaporating too soon.
There remain the germ's respiratory require-
ments.

To satisfy these, the insect has been
equally well-inspired. The neck of the cala-
bash is pierced, in the direction of its axis,
with a tiny channel which would admit at
most the slenderest of straws. Inside, this
conduit opens at the top of the dome of the
256

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

hatching-chamber; outside, at the tip of the
nipple, it spreads into a wide mouth. This
is the ventilating-shaft, protected against in-
truders by its extreme narrowness and by
grains of dust which obstruct it a little with-
out stopping it up. I said it was simply
marvellous. Was I wrong? If a construct-
ion of this sort is a fortuitous result, we must
admit that blind chance is gifted with ex-
traordinary powers of foresight.

How does the clumsy insect manage to
accomplish so delicate and complex a piece
of building? Exploring the pampas as I
do through the eyes of an intermediary, my
only guide in this question is the structure
of the work, a structure whence we can de-
duct the workman's method without going
far astray. I therefore imagine the build-
ing to proceed in this manner: a small car-
case is found, the oozing of which has soft-
ened the underlying loam. The insect col-
lects more or less of this loam, according to
the richness of the vein. There are no pre-
cise limits here. If the plastic material be
plentiful, the collector is lavish with it and
the provision-box becomes all the more solid.
Then enormous calabashes are obtained, ex-
ceeding a Hen's egg in volume and formed of
an outer wall three-quarters of an inch thick.

257

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

But a mass of this description is beyond the
strength of the modeller, is badly handled
and betrays, in its shape, the awkwardness
attendant on an over-difficult task. If the
material be rare, the insect confines its har-
vesting to what is strictly necessary; and then,
freer in its movements, it obtains a mag-
nificently regular gourd.

The loam is probably first kneaded into a
ball and then scooped out into a large and
very thick cup by the pressure of the fore-
legs and the work of the forehead. Even
thus do the Copris and the Sacred Beetle act
when preparing, on the top of their round
pill, the bowl in which the egg will be laid
before the final manipulation of the ovoid or
pear.

In this first business, the Phanaeus is sim-
ply a potter. So long as it be plastic, any
clay serves her turn, however meagrely
saturated with the juices running from the
carcase.

She now becomes a pork-butcher. With
her toothed knife, she carves, she saws some
tiny shreds from the rotten animal; she
tears off, cuts away what she deems best
suited to the grub's entertainment. She col-
lects all these fragments and mixes them with
choice loam in the spots where the sanies
258

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

abounds. The whole, cunningly kneaded
and softened, becomes a ball made on the
spot, without any rolling-process, in the same
way as the sphere of the other pill-manu-
facturers. Let us add that this ball, a
ration calculated by the needs of the grub, is
very nearly constant in size, whatever the
dimensions of the final calabash.

The sausage-meat is now ready. It is set
in place in the wide-open clay bowl.
Loosely packed, without compression, the
food will remain free, will not stick to its
wrapper.

Next, the potter's work is renewed. The
insect presses the thick lips of the clay cup,
rolls them out and applies them to the pre-
pared force-meat, which is eventually con-
tained by a thin partition at the top end and
by a thick layer every elsewhere. A wide
circular pad is left on the top partition,
which is thin in view of the weakness of the
grub that is to perforate it later, when ma-
king for the provisions. Manipulated in its
turn, this pad is converted into a hemi-
spherical hollow, in which the egg is forth-
with laid.

The work is completed by rolling out and
joining the edges of the little crater, which
closes and becomes the hatching-chamber.
259

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

Here, especially, a delicate dexterity becomes
essential. At the same time that the nipple
of the calabash is being shaped, the insect,
when packing the material, must leave the lit-
tle channel which is to form the ventilating-
shaft, following the line of the axis. This
narrow conduit, which an ill-calculated
pressure might stop up beyond hope of
remedy, seems to me extremely difficult to
obtain. The most skilful of our potters
could not manage it without the aid of a
needle, which he would afterwards withdraw.
The insect, a sort of jointed automaton,
makes its channel through the massive nipple
of the gourd without so much as a thought.
If it did give it a thought, it would not suc-
ceed.

The calabash is made : there remains the
decoration. This is the work of patient
after-touches which perfect the curves and
leave on the soft loam a series of stippled
impressions similar to those which the potter
of prehistoric days distributed over his big-
bellied jars with the ball of his thumb.

That finishes the work. The insect will
begin all over again under a fresh carcase;
for each burrow has one calabash and no
more, even as with the Sacred Beetle and her
pears.

260

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

Here is another of these artists of the
pampas. All black and as big as the largest
of our Onthophagi,1 whom she greatly re-
sembles in general build, Canthon bispinus
is likewise an exploiter of dead bodies, if not
always on her own behalf, at least on that of
her offspring.

She introduces very original innovations
into the pill-maker's art. Her work, strewn
like the aforementioned with finger-prints, is
the pilgrim's gourd, the double-bellied gourd.
Of the two stories, which are joined together
by a fairly plainly-marked groove, the upper
is the smaller and contains the egg in an in-
cubating-chamber; the lower and bulkier is
the food-stack.

Imagine the Sisyphus' little pear with its
hatching-chamber swollen into a globule a
trifle smaller than the sphere at the other
end; suppose the two protuberances to be
divided by a sort of wide open groove like
that of a pulley; and we shall have something
very like the Canthon's work in shape and
size.

When placed on burning charcoal, this
double-bellied gourd turns black, becomes
covered with shiny warts that look like jet

i Cf. The Sacred Beetle and Others: chaps, xi. xvii.,
and xviii. — Translator's Note.
261

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

beads, emits a smell like that of grilled meat
and leaves a residue of red clay. It is there-
fore formed of clay and sanies. Moreover,
the paste is sprinkled with little scraps of
dead flesh. At the smaller end is the egg,
in a chamber with a very porous roof, to al-
low the air to enter.

The little undertaker has something better
to show than her double sausage. Like the
Bison Onitis, the Sisyphus and the Lunary
Copris, she enjoys the collaboration of the
father. Each burrow contains several
cradles, with the father and mother invaria-
bly present. What are the two inseparables
doing? They are watching their brood and,
by dint of assiduous repairs, keeping the lit-
tle sausages, which are in constant danger
of cracking or drying up, in good condition.

The magic carpet which has allowed me
to take this trip to the pampas supplies me
with nothing else worth noting. Besides,
the New World is poor in pill-rollers and
cannot compare with Senegambia and the
regions of the Upper Nile, that paradise of
Copres and Sacred Beetles. Nevertheless
we owe it one precious detail: the group
which is commonly known by the name of
Dung-beetles is divided into two corpora-
262

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

tions, one of which exploits dung, the other
corpses.

With very few exceptions, the latter has
no representatives in our climes. I have
mentioned the little Oval Onthophagus as a
lover of carrion corruption; and my memory
does not recall any other example of the
kind. We have to go to the other world to
find such tastes.

Can it be that there was a schism among
the primitive scavengers and that these, at
first addicted to the same industry, after-
wards divided the hygienic task, some bury-
ing the ordure of the intestines, the others
the ordure of death? Can the comparative
frequency of this or the other provender have
brought about the formation of two trade-
guilds ?

That is not admissible. Life is insepara-
ble from death; wherever a corpse is, there
also, scattered at random, are the digestive
residues of the live animal; and the pill-roller
is not fastidious as to the origin of this waste
matter. Dearth therefore plays no part in
the schism, if the true dung-worker has act-
ually turned himself into an undertaker, or
if the undertaker has turned himself into
a true dung-worker. At no time have ma-
263

The Glow-Worm and' Other Beetles

terials for the work been lacking in either
case.

Nothing, not the scarcity of provisions,
nor the climate, nor the reversed seasons,
would explain this strange divergence. We
must perforce regard it as a matter of ori-
ginal specialities, of tastes not acquired but
prescribed from the beginning. And what
prescribed them was anything but the struct-
ure.

I would defy the greatest expert to tell me,
simply from the insect's appearance and
without learning the facts by experiment,
the manner of industry to which Phanaus
Milon, for instance, devotes himself. Re-
membering the Onites, who are very similar
in shape and who manipulate stercoral mat-
ter, he would look upon the foreigner as
another manipulator of dung. He would
be mistaken : the analysis of the meat-pie has
told us so.

The shape does not make the real Dung-
beetle. I have in my collection a magnificent
insect from Cayenne, known to the no-
menclators as Phanaus festivus, a brilliant'
Beetle in festive attire, charming, beautiful,
glorious to behold. How well he deserves
his name ! His colouring is a metallic red,
which flashes with the fire of rubies; and he
264

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

sets off this splendid jewellery by studding
his corselet with great spots of glowing
black.

What trade do you follow under your tor-
rid sun, O gleaming carbuncle? Have you
the bucolic tastes of your rival in finery, the
Splendid Phanaeus? Can you be a knacker,
a worker in putrid sausage-meat, like
Phanaus Milonf Vainly do I consider you
and marvel at you : your equipment tells me
nothing. No one who has not seen you at
work is capable of naming your profession.
I leave the matter to the conscientious mas-
ters, to the experts who are able to say : I do
not know. They are scarce, in our days;
but after all there are some, less eager than
others in the unscrupulous struggle which
creates upstarts.

This excursion to the pampas leans to one
conclusion of some importance. We find in
another hemisphere, with reversed seasons,
a different climate and dissimilar biological
conditions, a series of true dung-workers
whose habits and industry repeat, in their
essential facts, the habits and industry of our
own. Prolonged investigations, made at
first hand and not, like mine, at second hand,
would add greatly to the list of similar work-
ers.

265

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

And it is not only in the grassy plains of
La Plata that the modellers of dung proceed
according to the principles usual over here;
we may say, without fear of being mistaken,
that the magnificent Copres of Ethiopia and
the big Sacred Beetles of Senegambia work
exactly like our own.

The same similarity of industry exists in
other entomological series, however distant
their country. My books give details of a
Pelopaeus x in Sumatra, who is an ardent
Spider-huntress like our own, who builds
mud cells inside houses and who, like her,
is fond of the loose hangings of the window-
curtains for the shifting foundation of her
nests. They tell me of a Scolia 2 in Mada-
gascar who serves each of her grubs with a
fat rasher, an Oryctes-larva,3 even as our
own Scolia; feed their family on prey of
similar organization, with a highly concen-
trated nervous system, such as the larvae of
Cetoniae, Anoxias and even Oryctes. They

1 Cf. The Mason-wasps, by J. Henri Fabre, translated
by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chaps, iii. to vi. —
Translator's Note.

2 The chapters on the Scoliae will appear in More
Hunting Wasps. Meanwhile, cf. The Life and Love of
the Insect, by J. Henri Fabre, translated by Alexander
Teixeira de Mattos : chap. xi. — Translator's Note.

3 The larva of the Rhinoceros Beetle. — Translator's
Note.

266

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

tell me that in Texas a Pepsis, a huntress of
big game akin to the Calicurgi, gives chase
to a formidable Tarantula and vies in daring
with our Ringed Calicurgus,1 who stabs the
Black-bellied Lycosa.2 They tell me that the
Sphex-wasps of the Sahara, a rival of our
own White-banded Sphex,3 operate on Lo-
custs. But we must limit these quotations,
which could easily be multiplied.

For producing variations of animal species
to suit our theorists there is nothing so con-
venient as the influence of environment. It
is a vague, elastic phrase, which does not
compromise us by compelling us to be too
precise and it supplies an apparent expla-
nation of the inexplicable. But is this influ-
ence so powerful as they say?

I grant you that to some small extent it
modifies the shape, the fur or feather, the
colouring, the outward accessories. To go
farther would be to fly in the face of facts.
If the surroundings become too exacting, the
animal protests against the violence endured
and succumbs rather than change. If they

1 For the Pompilus, or Ringed Calicurgus, cf. The Life
and Love of the Insect: chap. xii. — Translator's Note.

2 For the Narbonne Lycosa, or Black-bellied Taran-
tula, cf. The Life of the Spider: chaps, i. and iii. to vii..
— Translator's Note.

3 Cf. The Life of the Fly: chap, i.— Translator's Note.

267

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

go to work gently, the creature subjected to
them adapts itself as best it can, but invinci-
bly refuses to cease to be what it is. It must
live in the form of the mould whence it is-
sued, or it must die: there is no other al-
ternative.

Instinct, one of the higher characteristics,
is no less rebellious to the injunctions of en-
vironment than are the organs, which serve
its activity. Innumerable guilds divide the
work of the entomological world; and each
member of one of these corporations is sub-
ject to rules which not climate, nor latitude,
nor the most serious disturbances of diet are
able to alter.

Look at the Dung-beetles of the pampas.
At the other end of the world, in their vast
flooded pastures, so different from our scanty
greenswards, they follow, without notable
variations, the same methods as their col-
leagues in Provence. A profound change of
surroundings in no way effects the funda-
mental industry of the group.

Nor do the provisions available affect it.
The staple food to-day is matter of bovine
origin. But the Ox is a newcomer in the
land, an importation of the Spanish conquest.
What did the Megathopae, the Bolites, the
Splendid Phanaeus eat and knead, before the
268

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

arrival of the present purveyor? The
Llama, that denizen of the uplands, was not
able to feed the Dung-beetles confined to the
plains. In days of old, the foster-father was
perhaps the monstrous Megatherium, a
dung-factory of incomparable prodigality.

And from the produce of the colossal
beast, whereof naught remains but a few
rare skeletons, the modellers passed to the
produce of the Sheep and the Ox, without
altering their ovoids or their gourds, even as
our Sacred Beetle, without ceasing to be
faithful to her pear, accepts the Cow's flat
cake in the absence of the favourite morsel,
the Sheep's bannock.

In the south as in the north, at the anti-
podes as here, every Copris fashions ovoids
with the egg at the smaller end; every Sa-
cred Beetle models pears or gourds with a
hatching-chamber in the neck; but the ma-
terials employed vary greatly according to
the season and locality and can be furnished
by the Megatherium, the Ox, the Horse, the
Sheep or by man and several others.

We must not allow this diversity to lead
us to believe in changes of instinct: that
would be to strain at a Gnat and swallow a
Camel. The industry of the Megachiles,
for instance, consists of manufacturing wal-
269

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

lets with bits of leaves; that of the Cotton-
bees of making bags of wadding with the
flock gathered from certain plants.
Whether the pieces be cut from the leaves
of this shrub or that, or at need from the
petals of some flower; whether the cotton-
wool be collected here or there, as chance may-
direct the encounter, the industry undergoes
no essential changes.

In the same manner, nothing changes in
the art of the Dung-beetle, victualling him-
self with materials in this mine or that.
Here in truth we have immutable instinct,
here we behold the rock which our theorists
are unable to shake.

And why should it change, this instinct,
so logical in its workings? Where could it
find, even with chance assisting, a better
plan? In spite of an equipment which varies
in the different genera, it suggests to every
modelling Dung-beetle the spherical shape,
a fundamental structure which is hardly af-
fected when the egg is placed in position.

From the outset, without the use of com-
passes, without any mechanical rolling, with-
out shifting the thing on its base, one and
all obtain the ball, the delicately executed
compact body supremely favourable to the
grub's well-being. To the shapeless lump,
270

The Dung-Beetles of the Pampas

demanding no pains, they all prefer the
sphere, lovingly fashioned and calling for
much manipulation, the globe which is the
preeminent form and best-adapted for the
preservation of energy, in the case of a sun
and of a Dung-beetle's cradle alike.

When MacLeay ■ gave the Sacred Beetle
the name of Heliocantharus, the Black-
beetle of the Sun, what had he in mind?
The radiating denticulations of the forehead,
the insect's gambols in the bright sunlight?
Was he not thinking rather of the symbol
of Egypt, the Scarab who, on the pediment
of the temples, lifts towards the sky, by way
of a pill, a vermilion sphere, the image of
the sun?

The comparison between the mighty
bodies of the universe and the insect's humble
pellet was not distasteful to the thinkers on
the banks of the Nile. For them supreme
splendour found its effigy in extreme ab-
jection. Were they very wrong?

No, for the pill-roller's work propounds

1 William Sharp MacLeay (1792-1865), author of
Hora Entomologica; or, Essays on Annulose Animals
(1819-1821), on which I quote the Dictionary of National
Biography:

" He propounded the circular or quinary system, a forc-
edly artificial attempt at a natural system of classification,
which soon became a byword among naturalists." —
Translator's Note.

271

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

a grave problem to whoso is capable of re-
flection. It compels us to accept this al-
ternative: either to credit the Dung-beetle's
flat head with the signal honour of having
of itself solved the geometrical problem of
preserved food, or else to fall back upon a
harmony ruling all things under the eye of
an Intelligence Which, knowing everything,
has provided for everything.

272

CHAPTER X

INSECT COLOURING

PHANjEUS SPLENDIDULUS, the glit-
tering, the resplendent : this is the epithet
selected by the official nomenclators to de-
scribe the handsomest Dung-beetle of the
pampas. The name is not at all exaggerated.
Combining the fire of gems with metallic
lustre, the insect, according to the incidence
of the light, emits the green reflections of the
emerald or the gleam of ruddy copper. The
muck-raker would do honour to the jeweller's
show-cases.

For the rest, our own Dung-beetles,
though usually modest in their attire, also
have a leaning toward luxurious ornament.
One Onthophagus decorates his corselet
with Florentine bronze; another wears
garnets on his wing-cases. Black above, the
Mimic Geotrupes is the colour of copper
pyrites below; also black in all parts exposed
to the light of day, the Stercorarius Geo-
trupes displays a ventral surface of a glorious
amethyst violet.

Many other series, of greatly varied
273

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

habits, Carabi,1 Cetoniae, Buprestes, Chry-
somelae,2 rival and even surpass the mag-
nificent Dung-beetles in the matter of jewel-
lery. At times we encounter splendours
which the imagination of a lapidary would
not venture to depict. The Azure Hoplia,3
the inmate of the osier-beds and elders by the
banks of the mountain streams, is a wonder-
ful blue, tenderer and softer to the eye than
the azure of the heavens. You could not
find an ornament to match it save on the
throats of certain Humming-birds and the
wings of a few Butterflies in equatorial
climes.

To adorn itself like this, in what Golconda
does the insect gather its gems? In what
diggings does it find its gold nuggets? What
a pretty problem is that of a Buprestis'
wing-case ! Here the chemistry of colours
ought to reap a delightful harvest; but the
difficulties are great, it seems, so much so
that science cannot yet tell us the why and the
wherefore of the humblest costume. The
answer will come in a remote future, if in-
deed it ever comes completely, for life's
laboratory may well contain secrets denied

1 Cf. Chapter XIV. of the present volume.

2 Golden Apple-beetles. — Translator's Note.

3 A genus of Cockchafer. Cf. The Life of the Fly:
chap. vii. — Translator's Note.

274

Insect Colouring

to our retorts. For the moment, I shall
perhaps be contributing a grain of sand to
the future palace if I describe the little that
I have seen.

My basic observation dates a long way
back. I was at that time busy with the
Hunting Wasps, following their larval de-
velopment from the egg to the cocoon. Let
us take an instance from my notes, which
cover nearly all the game-hunters of my
district. I will choose the larva of the Yel-
low-winged Sphex,1 which, with its convenient
size, will furnish an easy object-lesson.

Under the transparent skin of the larva,
which has been recently hatched and is con-
suming: its first Cricket, we soon perceive
some fine white spots, which rapidly increase
in size and number and eventually cover the
whole body, except the first two or three seg-
ments. On dissecting the grub, we find that
these spots have to do with the adipose layer,
of which they form a considerable part, for,
far from being scattered only on the surface,
they run through its whole thickness and are
present in such numbers that the forceps can-
not seize the least fragment of this tissue
without picking up a few of them.

1 Cf . The Hunting Wasps: chap. iv. — Translator's
Note.

275

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

Though perfectly visible without the help
of a lens, these puzzling spots call for the
microscope if we wish to study them in de-
tail. We then find that the adipose tissue is
made up of two kinds of vesicles: some,
bright yellow and transparent, are filled with
oily drops; the rest, opaque and starch-white,
are distended with a very fine powder, which
spreads in a cloudy trail when the vesicle
containing it is broken on the object-slide.
Intermingled without apparent order, the
two kinds of bags are of the same shape and
the same size. The first go to make up the
nutritive reserves, the fatty tissue properly
so-called; the second form the white dots
which we will study for a moment.

An inspection under the microscope tells
us that the contents of the white cells are
composed of very fine, opaque grains, in-
soluble in water and of greater density.
The use of chemical reagents on the object-
slide proves that nitric acid dissolves these
grains, with effervescence and without leaving
the least residue, even when they are still en-
closed in their vesicles. On the other hand,
the true fatty cells suffer in no way when at-
tacked by this acid; they merely turn a little
yellower.

Let us take advantage of this property to
276

Insect Colouring

operate on a larger scale. The adipose tis-
sue taken from a number of larvae is treated
with nitric acid. The effervescence is as
lively as if the reaction were taking effect on
a bit of chalk. When it has subsided, some
yellow clots are floating on the surface.
These are easily separated. They come
from the fatty substance and the cellular
membranes. There remains a clear liquid
containing the white granules in solution.

The riddle of these granules was being
presented to me for the first time; my pre-
decessors had provided no physiological or
anatomical data to guide me; great there-
fore was my joy when, after a little fum-
bling, I succeeded in hitting upon their char-
acteristic feature.

The solution is evaporated in a small
porcelain capsule, placed on the hot embers.
On the residue I pour a few drops of am-
monia, or else simply water. A glorious
crimson colour at once makes its appearance.
The problem is solved: the colouring-matter
which has just formed is murexide ; and con-
sequently the powdery substance which filled
the cells was none other than uric acid, or
more precisely ammonium urate.

A physiological fact of this importance can
hardly stand alone. Indeed, since this basic
277

The Glow- Worm and, Other Beetles

experiment I have discovered grains of uric
acid in the adipose tissue of the larvae of all
the Hunting Wasps of our parts, as well as
in the Bees at the moment of the nymphosis.
I have observed them in many other insects,
either in the larval or in the perfect state; but
in this respect there is none to equal the grub
of the game-hunting Wasp, which is all
speckled with white. I think I see the rea-
son.

Let us consider two larvae which eat live
prey: that of the Sphex and that of the Hy-
drophilus.1 Uric acid, the inevitable pro-
duct of the vital transformations, or at all
events one of its analogues, must be formed
in both. But the Hydrophilus' larva shows
no accumulation of it in its adipose layer,
whereas the Sphex' is full of it.

In the latter the duct through which the
solid excretions pass is not yet in' working or-
der; the digestive apparatus, tied at the lower
end, is not discharging an atom. The uri-
nary products, being unable, for want of an
open outlet, to flow away as formed, accumu-
late in the adipose tissue, which thus
serves as a common store-house for the
residues of the present and the plastic ma-
terial of the future organic processes.

iThe Great Water-beetle.— Translator's Note.
278

Insect Colouring

Here something occurs analogous to what we
see in the higher animals after the removal
of the kidneys; the urea at first contained in
the blood, in imperceptible quantities ac-
cumulates and becomes manifest when the
means by which it is eliminated disappear.

In the larva of the Hydrophilus, on the
other hand, the excretions enjoy a free outlet
from the beginning; and the urinary products
escape as and when formed and are no longer
deposited in the adipose tissue. But during
the intense labour of the metamorphosis, any
excretion becomes impossible; the uric acid
must and does collect in the adipose sub-
stance of the different larvae.

It would be out of place, despite its im-
portance, to pursue the problem of the uric
residues any further. Our subject is color-
ation. Let us return to it with the evidence
supplied by the Sphex. Her almost trans-
parent larva has the neutral tint of fluid white
of egg. Under its fine translucid skin there
is nothing coloured, save the long digestive
pouch, which is swollen a deep purple by the
pulp of the consumed Crickets. But against
this indefinite, vitreous background the
opaque white uric cells stand out distinctly
in their myriads; and the effect of this stip-
pling is a sketchy but by no means inelegant
279

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

costume. It is skimpy in the extreme, but at
any rate it is something.

With the urinary broth of which its intes-
tine is unable to get rid, the larva has dis-
covered a means of making itself look a little
smart. The Anthidia have shown us how,
in their cotton-wool wallets, they manufac-
ture a sort of jewellery with their ordure.
The robe studded with grains of alabaster is
a no less ingenious invention.

To beautify themselves cheaply by using
up their own refuse is a very common method
even among insects endowed with all that is
wanted for evacuating waste matter. While
the larvae of the Hunting Wasps, unable to
do better, stipple themselves with uric acid,
there are plenty of industrious creatures that
are able to make themselves a superb dress
by preserving their excretions in spite of their
own open sewers. With a view to self-em-
bellishment, they collect and treasure up the
dross which others hasten to expel. They
turn filth into finery.

One of these is the White-faced Decticus
(D. albifrons, Fab.), the biggest sabre-
bearer of the Provencal fauna. A magnifi-
cent insect is this Grasshopper, with a broad
ivory face, a full, creamy-white belly and
long wings flecked with brown. In July, the
280

Insect Colouring

season for the wedding-dress, let us dissect
him under water.

The adipose tissue, which is abundant and
yellowish white, consists of a lace of wide,
irregular, criss-cross meshes. It is a tubu-
lar network swollen with a powdery matter
which condenses into minute chalk-white
spots, standing out very plainly against a
transparent background. When crushed in
a drop of water, a fragment of this fabric
yields a milky cloud in which the microscope
shows an infinite number of opaque floating
atoms, without revealing the smallest blob of
oil, the sign of fatty matter.

Here again we have ammonium urate.
Treated with nitric acid, the adipose tissue
of the Decticus produces an effervescence sim-
ilar to that of chalk and yields enough murex-
ide to redden a tumblerful of water. A
strange adipose body, this bundle of lace
crammed with uric acid without a trace of
fatty matter ! What would the Decticus do
with nutritive reserves, seeing that he is near
his end, now that the nuptial season has ar-
rived? Delivered from the necessity of sav-
ing for the future, he has only to spend in
gaiety the few days left to him ; he has only
to adorn himself for the supreme festival.

He therefore converts into a paint-factory
281

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

what at first was a warehouse for storing up
foodstuffs; and with his chalk-like uric pulp
he lavishly daubs his belly, which turns a
creamy white, and smears it on his forehead,
his face, his cheeks, until they assume the
appearance of old ivory. All those parts, in
fact, which lie immediately under the trans-
lucid skin are covered with a layer of pig-
ment which can be turned into murexide and
is identical in nature with the white powder
of the adipose lace.

Biological chemistry can hardly offer a
simpler and more striking experiment than
this analysis of the Decticus' finery. To
those who have not this curious Grasshopper
handy, I recommend the Ephippiger of the
Vines, who is much more widely distributed.
His ventral surface, which also is of a
creamy white, likewise owes its colour to a
plastering of uric acid. In the Grasshopper
family many other species of smaller size and
requiring more delicate handling would give
us the same results in varying degrees.

White, slightly tinged with yellow, is all
that the urinary palette of the Locustidae
shows us. A caterpillar, the Spurge Hawk-
moth's, will take us a little farther. Dappled
red, black, white and yellow, its livery is the
most remarkable in our part of the country.
282

Insect Colouring

Reaumur in fact calls it la Belle. The flat-
tering title is well-deserved. On the black
background of the larva, vermillion-red,
chrome-yellow and chalk-white figure side by
side in circles, spots, freckles and stripes, as
clearly marked as the glaring patches of a
harlequin's dress.

Let us dissect the caterpillar and apply the
lens to its mosaic. On the inner surface of
the skin, except in the portions coloured
black, we observe a pigmentary layer, a coat-
ing here red, there yellow or white. We
will cut a strip from this coat of many col-
ours, after depriving it of its muscular fibres,
and subject it to the action of nitric acid.
The pigment, no matter what its hue, dis-
solves with effervescence and afterwards
yields murexide. Here again, then, it is to
uric acid, present, however, in small quan-
tities in the adipose tissue, that the caterpil-
lar's rich livery is due.

The black parts are an exception. Un-
assailable by nitric acid, they retain their
sombre tint after treatment as before,
whereas the portions stripped of their pig-
ment by the reagent become almost as trans-
parent as glass. The skin of the handsome
caterpillar thus has two sorts of coloured
patches.

283

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

Those of an intense black may be likened
to dyers' products: they are completely im-
pregnated with the colouring matter, which
is part and parcel of the molecular constitu-
tion and cannot be isolated by the nitric
solvent The others, red, yellow or white,
are actually painted: on a translucid sheet is
a wash of urinary pigment, which is dis-
charged by the minute ducts issuing from the
adipose layer. When the action of the ni-
tric acid has ceased, the transparent circles
of the latter stand out against the black back-
ground of the former.

Yet one more example taken from a dif-
ferent order. As regards elegance of cos-
tume, the Banded Epeira 1 is the most highly
favoured of our Spiders. On the upper sur-
face of her corpulent belly alternate, in trans-
versal bands, bright black, a vivid yellow like
that of yolk of egg and a dazzling white like
that of snow. The black and yellow also
show underneath, but arranged differently.
The yellow, in particular, forms two longi-
tudinal ribbons, ending in orange-red on
either side of the spinnerets. A pale purple
is faintly diffused over the sides.

Examined from the outside with the lens,

1 Cf. The Life of the Spider: chaps, ii., vii., xi. and xiii.
— Translator's Note.

284

Insect Colouring

the black parts reveal nothing out of the
common. The black is homogeneous and
everywhere of equal depth. On the other
hand, in the coloured portions, we see little
polygonal, granular masses, forming a close-
meshed network. By cutting round the cir-
cumference of the abdomen with a pair of
scissors, the horny integument of the dorsal
surface may readily be removed in one piece,
without any shreds of the organs which it
protected. This large strip of skin is trans-
parent in the zones that correspond with the
white bands in the natural state; it is black
or yellow on the black or yellow bands.
These last indeed owe their colouring to a
layer of pigment which the point of a paint-
brush will easily loosen and remove.

As for the white bands, their origin is this :
once the skin has been removed, the dorsal
surface of the abdomen, whose graceful mo-
saic is not in any way disturbed, reveals a
layer of polygonal white spots, distributed in
belts, here densely and there less so. The
denser belts correspond with the white bands.
It is their magnificent opaque white granula-
tions which, seen through the transparent
skin, form the snow-white stripes in the live
Spider.

Treated with nitric acid on the microscopic
285

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

slide, they do not dissolve nor produce effer-
vescence. Uric acid then is not present in
this case ; and the substance must be guanine,
an alkaloid known to be the urinary product
of the Spiders. The same is true of the yel-
low, black, purple or orange pigment that
forms a coating under the skin. In short,
by utilizing, in a different chemical combina-
tion, the waste products of animal oxidiza-
tion, the magnificent Spider rivals the mag-
nificent caterpillar; she beautifies herself with
guanine as the other does with its uric acid.

Let us abridge this dry subject; let us be
content with these few data, which could if
necessary be corroborated by many others.
What does the little that we have learnt
teach us? It tells us that the materials re-
jected by the organism, guanine, uric acid
and other dross from life's refinery, play an
important part in the coloration of the in-
sect.

Two cases are distinguishable, according
as the colour is dyed or simply painted. The
skin, itself colourless and transparent, is in
places illumined by a coloured varnish, which
can be removed by a touch with a paint-
brush. Here we have paint, the result of
the urinary compound laid on the inner sur-
face of the covering, just as the chromatic
286

Insect Colouring

ingredients of our glass-painters are laid on
our stained-glass windows.

At other places the skin is coloured in its
very substance; the colouring-matter forms
an integral part of it and can no longer be
swept away with a camel-hair brush. Here
we have a dyed fabric, represented in our
windows by the panes of coloured glass which
the crucible decorates uniformly with this or
that tint, by means of the incorporated metal-
lic oxides.

Whereas, in these two cases, there is a
profound difference in the distribution of the
chromatic materials, is this true of their chem-
ical nature as well? The suggestion is
hardly admissible. The worker in stained
glass dyes or paints with the same oxides.
Life, that incomparable artist, must even
more readily obtain an infinite variety of re-
sults by uniformity of method.

It shows us, on the back of the Spurge
Caterpillar,1 black spots jumbled up with
other spots, white, yellow or red. Paints
and dyes lie side by side. Is there on this
side of the dividing line a paint-stuff and on
the other side a dye-stuff, absolutely different
in character from the first? While chem-

1The caterpillar of the Spurge Hawk-moth. — Trans-
lator's Note,

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

istry is not yet in a position to demonstrate,
with its reagents, the common origin of the
two substances, at least the most convincing
analogies point to it.

In this delicate problem of the insect's col-
ouring, one single point thus far comes within
the domain of observed facts : the progressive
advance of chromatic evolution. The car-
buncle of the Dung-Beetle of the Pampas
suggested the question. Let us then inquire
of his near neighbours, who will perhaps en-
able us to advance a step farther.

Newly stripped of his cast-off nymphal
skin, the Sacred Beetle possesses a strange
costume, bearing no resemblance to the ebony
black which will be the portion of the ma-
ture insect. The head, legs and thorax arc
a bright rusty red; the wing-cases and abdo-
men are white. As a colour, the red is al-
most that of the Spurge Caterpillar, but it is
the result of a dye on which nitric acid has
no effect as a detector of urates. The same
chromatic principle must certainly exist in a
more elaborate form and under a different
molecular arrangement in the skin of the
abdomen and the wing-cases which will
presently replace white by red.

In two or three days the colourless be-
comes the coloured, a process whose rapidity

Insect Colouring

implies a fresh molecular structure rather
than a change of composition. The build-
ing-stone remains the same, but is arranged
in a different order; and the structure alters
in appearance.

The Scarabaeus is now all red. The first
brown stains show themselves on the denticu-
lations of the forehead and fore-legs, the
sign of an earlier maturity in the implements
of labour, which are to acquire an excep-
tional hardness. The smoky tinge spreads
more or less all over the insect, replaces the
red, turns darker and finally becomes the
regulation black. In less than a week the
colourless insect turns a rusty red, next a
sooty brown and then an ebony black. The
process is completed; the insect possesses its
normal colouring.

Even so do the Copres, the Gymnopleuri,1
the Onites, the Onthophagi and many others
behave; even so must the jewel of the
pampas, the Splendid Phanaeus set to work.
With as much certainty as though I had him
before my eyes at the moment when he di-
vests himself of his nymphal swaddling-
bands, I see him a dull red, rusty or crimson,
excepting on the wing-covers and the abdo-

1 Cf. The Sacred Beetle and Others: chap. viii. — Trans-
lator's Note.

289

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

men, which are at first colourless and pre-
sently turn the same colour as the rest. In
the Sacred Beetle this initial red is followed
by black; the Phanaeus replaces it by the bril-
liance of copper and the reflections of the
emerald. Ebony, metal, the gem : have they
the same origin here then? Evidently.

The metallic lustre does not call for a
change of nature; a mere nothing is enough
to produce it. Silver, when very finely sub-
divided by the methods whereof chemistry
knows the secret, becomes a dust as poor to
look at as soot. When pressed between two
hard bodies, this dirty powder, which might
be dried mud, av once acquires the metallic
sheen and again becomes the silver which
we know. A mere molecular contact has
wrought the miracle.

Dissolved in water, the murexide derived
from- uric acid is a magnificent crimson.
Solidified by crystallization, it rivals in splen-
dour the gold-green of the Cantharides.
The widely-used fuschine affords a well-
known example of like properties.

Everything, then, appears to show that
the same substance, derived from urinary ex-
cretions, yields, according to the mode in
which its ultimate particles are grouped, the
metallic red of the Phanaeus, as well as the
290

Insect Colouring

white, the dull red and the black of the Sa-
cred Beetle. It becomes black on the dorsal
surface of the Stercoraceous Geotrupes and
the Mimic Geotrupes; and, with a quick
change, it turns into amethyst under the belly
of the first and into copper pyrites under
the belly of the second. It covers the back
of Cetonia floricola with golden bronze and
the under surface with metallic purple. Ac-
cording to the insect, according to the part
of the body, it remains a dingy compound or
sparkles with reflections even more vivid and
varied than those possessed by the metals.

Light seems irrelevant to the development
of these splendours; it neither accelerates
nor retards them. Since direct exposure to
the sun, owing to the excess of heat, is fatal
to the delicate process of the nymphosis, I
shaded the solar rays with a screen of water
contained between slips of glass; and to the
bright light thus moderated in temperature I
daily, throughout the period of chromatic
evolution, subjected a number of Sacred
Beetles, Geotrupes and Cetoniae. As stand-
ards of comparison I had witnesses of whom
I kept some in diffused light and others in
complete darkness. My experiments had no
appreciable result. The development of the
colours took place in the sunlight and in the
291

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

dark alike, neither more rapidly nor more
slowly and without difference in the tints.

This negative result was easy to foresee.
The Buprestis emerging from the depths of
the trunk in which he has spent his larval
life; the Geotrupes and the Phanaeus leav-
ing their natal burrows possess their final
adornments, which will not become richer in
the rays of the sun, at the time when they
make their appearance in the open air. The
insect does not claim the assistance of the
light for its colour chemistry, not even the
Cicada,1 who bursts her larval scabbard and
changes from pale green to brown as easily
in the darkness of my apparatus as in the
sunlight, in the usual manner.

The chromatics of the insect, having as its
basis the urinary waste products, might well
be found in various animals of a higher or-
der. We know of at least one example.
The pigment of a small American lizard is
converted into uric acid under the prolonged
action of boiling hydrochloric acid.2 This
cannot be an isolated instance; and there is
reason to believe that the reptilian class

1 Cf. The Life of the Grasshopper: chaps, i. to v. —
Translator's Note.

2 A. B. Griffiths, Transactions of the Academic des sci-
ences, 26 November, 1894. — Author's Note.

292

Insect Colouring

daubs its garments with similar products.
From the reptile to the bird is no great
distance. Then the Wood-pigeon's iride-
scent hues, the eyes on the Peacock's tail,
the Kingfisher's sea-blue, the Flamingo's car-
mine are more or less closely connected with
the urinary excretions? Why not? Na-
ture, that sublime economist, delights in these
vast antitheses which upset all our concep-
tions of the values of things. Of a pinch
of common charcoal she makes a diamond ; of
the same clay which the potter fashions into
a bowl for the Cat's supper she makes a
ruby; of the filthy waste products of the or-
ganism she makes the splendours of the in-
sect and the bird. The metallic marvels of
the Buprestis and the Ground-beetle ; the ame-
thyst, ruby, sapphire, emerald and topaz of
the Humming-Bird; glories which would ex-
haust the language of the lapidary jeweller:
what are they in reality? Answer: a drop
of urine.

293

CHAPTER XI

THE BURYING-BEETLES : THE BURIAL

"DESIDE the footpath in April lies the
*-* Mole, disembowelled by the peasant's
spade; at the foot of the hedge the pitiless
urchin has stoned to death the Lizard, who
was about to don his green, pearl-embellished
costume. The passer-by has thought it a
meritorious deed to crush beneath his heel
the chance-met Adder; and a gust of wind
has thrown a tiny unfledged bird from its
nest. What will become of these little bodies
and so many other pitiful remnants of life?
They will not long offend our sense of sight
and smell. The sanitary officers of the
fields are legion.

An eager freebooter, ready for any task,
the Ant is the first to come hastening and be-
gin, particle by particle, to dissect the corpse.
Soon the odour attracts the Fly, the genitrix
of the odious maggot. At the same time, the
flattened Silpha,1 the glistening, slow-trotting
Cellar-beetle, the Dermestes,2 powdered with

1 Or Carrion-beetle. — Translator's Note.

2 Or Bacon-beetle. — Translator's Note.

294

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

snow upon the abdomen, arid the slender
Staphylinus,1 all, whence coming no one
knows, hurry hither in squads, with never-
wearied zeal, investigating, probing and
draining the infection.

What a spectacle, in the spring, beneath
a dead Mole! The horror of this labora-
tory is a beautiful sight for one who is able
to observe and to meditate. Let us over-
come our disgust; let us turn over the unclean
refuse with our foot. What a swarming
there is beneath it, what a tumult of busy
workers ! The Silphae, with wing-cases wide
and dark, as though in mourning, flee dis-
traught, hiding in the cracks in the soil; the
Saprini,2 of polished ebony which mirrors the
sunlight, jog hastily off, deserting their work-
shop; the Dermestes, of whom one wears a
fawn-coloured tippet flecked with white, seek
to fly away, but, tipsy with the putrid nectar,
tumble over and reveal the immaculate white-
ness of their bellies, which forms a violent
contrast with the gloom of the 'rest of their
attire.

What were they doing there, all these
feverish workers? They were making a

1 Or Rove-beetle. — Translator's Note.

2 The Saprinus is a very small carnivorous Beetle.
Cf. The Life of the Fly: chap. xvi. — Translator's Note.

295

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

clearance of death on behalf of life. Tran-
scendent alchemists, they were transforming
that horrible putrescence into a living and
inoffensive product. They were draining the
dangerous corpse to the point of rendering it
as dry and sonorous as the remains of an old
slipper hardened on the refuse-heap by the
frosts of winter and the heats of summer.
They were working their hardest to render
the carrion innocuous.

Others will soon put in their appearance,
smaller creatures and more patient, who will
take over the relic and exploit it ligament by
ligament, bone by bone, hair by hair, until
the whole has been restored to the treasury
of life. All honour to these purifiers ! Let
us put back the Mole and go our way.

Some other victim of the agricultural la-
bours of spring, a Shrew-mouse, Field-mouse,
Mole, Frog, Adder, or Lizard, will provide
us with the most vigorous and famous of
these expurgators of the soil. This is the
Burying-beetle, the Necrophorus, so different
from the cadaveric mob in dress and habits.
In honour of his exalted functions he exhales
an odour of musk; he bears a red tuft at
the tip of his antennas; his breast is covered
with nankeen; and across his wing-cases he
wears a double, scalloped scarf of vermillion.
296

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

An elegant, almost sumptuous costume, very
superior to that of the others, but yet lugu-
brious, as befits your undertaker's man.

He is no anatomical dissector, cutting his
subject open, carving its flesh with the scalpel
of his mandibles; he is literally a grave-dig-
ger, a sexton. While the others — Silphae,
Dermestes, Cellar-beetles — gorge them-
selves with the exploited flesh, without, of
course, forgetting the interests of the fam-
ily, he, a frugal eater, hardly touches his find
on his own account. He buries it entire, on
the spot, in a cellar where the thing, duly
ripened, will form the diet of his larvae.
He buries it in order to establish his progeny.

This hoarder of dead bodies, with his stiff
and almost heavy movements, is astonish-
ingly quick at storing away wreckage. In a
shift of a few hours, a comparatively enor-
mous animal, a Mole, for instance, disap-
pears, engulfed by the earth. The others
leave the dried, emptied carcass to the air,
the sport of the winds for months on end;
he, treating it as a whole, makes a clean
job of things at once. No visible trace of
his work remains but a tiny hillock, a burial-
mound, a tumulus.

With his expeditious method, the Necro-
phorus is the first of the little purifiers of the
297

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

fields. He is also one of the most celebrated
of insects in respect of his psychical capaci-
ties. This undertaker is endowed, they say,
with intellectual faculties approaching to rea-
son, such as are not possessed by the most
gifted of the Bees and Wasps, the collectors
of honey or game. He is honoured by the
two following anecdotes, which I quote from
Lacordaire's x Introduction a I'entomologie,
the only general treatise at my disposal:

" Clairville," says the author, " reports
that he saw a Necrophorus vespillo, who,
wishing to bury a dead Mouse and finding
the soil on which the body lay too hard,
went to dig a hole at some distance, in soil
more easily displaced. This operation com-
pleted, he attempted to bury the Mouse in
the cavity, but, not succeeding, he flew away
and returned a few moments later, accom-
panied by four of his fellows, who assisted
him to move the Mouse and bury it."

In such actions, Lacordaire adds, we can-
not refuse to admit the intervention of rea-
son.

1 Jean Theodore Lacordaire (1801-1870), author of
Genera des coleopteres (1854-1876) and of the work
quoted above (1837-1839). — Translator's Note.
298

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

" The following case," he continues, " re-
corded by Gleditsch,1 has also every indica-
tion of the intervention of reason. One of
his friends, wishing to desiccate a Frog,
placed it on the top of a stick thrust into the
ground, in order to make sure that the Necro-
phori should not come and carry it off. But
this precaution was of no effect; the insects,
being unable to reach the Frog, dug under
the stick and, having caused it to fall, buried
it as well as the body." 2

To grant, in the intellect of the insect, a
lucid understanding of the relations between
cause and effect, between the end and the
means, is to make a statement of serious im-
port. I know of scarcely any more suited
to the philosophical brutalities of my time.
But are these two anecdotes really true ? Do
they involve the consequences deduced from
them? Are not those who accept them as
sound evidence just a little too simple?

To be sure, simplicity is needed in ento-
mology. Without a good dose of this quali-
ty, a mental defect in the eyes of practical
folk, who would busy himself with the lesser

1 Johan Gottlieb Gleditsch (1714-1786), the German
botanist. — Translator's Note.

2 Suites a Buff on. Introduction a I'entomologie, vol.
ii., pp. 460-61. — Author's Note.

299

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

creatures? Yes, let us be simple, without
being childishly credulous. Before making
insects reason, let us reason a little ourselves;
let us, above all, consult the experimental
test. A fact gathered at random, without
criticism, cannot establish a law.

I do not propose, O valiant grave-diggers,
to depreciate your merits; such is far from
being my intention. I have that in my notes,
on the other hand, which will do you more
honour than the story of the gibbet and the
Frog; I have gleaned, for your benefit, ex-
amples of prowess which will shed a new
lustre upon your reputation.

No, my intention is not to belittle your re-
nown. Besides, it is not the business of
impartial history to maintain a given thesis;
it follows facts. I wish simply to question
you upon the power of logic attributed to
you. Do you or do you not enjoy gleams
of reason? Have you within you the hum-
ble germ of human thought? That is the
problem before us.

To solve it we will not rely upon the acci-
dents which good fortune may now and again
procure for us. We must employ the breed-
ing-cage, which will permit of assiduous
visits, continuous enquiry and a variety of
artifices. But how to stock the cage? The
300

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

land of the olive-tree is not rich in Necro-
phori. To my knowledge it possesses only
a single species, N. vestigator, HERSCH. ;
and even this rival of the grave-diggers of
the north is pretty scarce. The discovery of
three or four in the spring was as much as
my hunting-expeditions yielded in the old
days. This time, if I do not resort to the
ruses of the trapper, I shall obtain no more
than that, whereas I stand in need of at least
a dozen.

These ruses are very simple. To go in
search of the sexton, who exists only here
and there in the country-side, would be nearly
always a waste of time; the favourable
month, April, would be past before my cage
was suitably stocked. To run after him is
to trust too much to accident; so we will
make him come to us by scattering in the
orchard an abundant collection of dead
Moles. To this carrion, ripened by the
sun, the insect will not fail to hasten from
the various points of the horizon, so accom-
plished is he in detecting such a delicacy.

I make an arrangement with a gardener
in the neighbourhood, who, two or three
times a week, makes up for the penury of
my two acres of stony ground by providing
me with vegetables raised in a better soil.
301

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

I explain to him my urgent need of Moles in
unlimited numbers. Battling daily with trap
and spade against the importunate excava-
tor who uproots his crops, he is in a better
position than any one to procure for me what
I regard for the moment as more precious
than his bunches of asparagus or his white-
heart cabbages.

The worthy man at first laughs at my re-
quest, being greatly surprised by the impor-
tance which I attribute to the abhorrent ani-
mal, the Darboun; but at last he consents,
not without a suspicion at the back of his
mind that I am going to make myself a
gorgeous winter waist-coat with the sort, vel-
vety skins of the Moles. A thing like that
must be good for pains in the back. Very
well. We settle the matter. The essential
thing is that the Darbouns reach me.

They reach me punctually, by twos, by
threes, by fours, packed in a few cabbage-
leaves, at the bottom of the gardener's bas-
ket. The excellent fellow who lent himself
with such good grace to my strange wishes
will never guess how much comparative psy-
chology will owe him ! In a few days I was
the possessor of thirty Moles, which were
scattered here and there, as they reached
me, in bare spots of the orchard, among the
302

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

rosemary-bushes, the strawberry-trees and
the lavender-beds.

Now it only remained to wait and to ex-
amine, several times a day, the under-side of
my little corpses, a disgusting task which
any one would avoid whose veins were not
filled with the sacred fire of enthusiasm.
Only little Paul, of all the household, lent
me the aid of his nimble hand to seize the
fugitives. I have already said that the en-
tomologist needs simplicity of mind. In this
important business of the Necrophori, my
assistants were a small boy and an illiterate.

Little Paul's visits alternating with mine,
we had not long to wait. The four winds
of heaven bore forth in all directions the
odour of the carrion; and the undertakers
hurried up, so that the experiments, begun
with four subjects, were continued with four-
teen, a number not attained during the whole
of my previous searches, which were unpre-
meditated and in which no bait was used as
decoy. My trapper's ruse was completely
successful.

Before I report the results obtained in
the cage, let us stop for a moment to con-
sider the normal conditions of the labours
that fall to the lot of the Necrophori. The
Beetle does not select his head of game,
303

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

choosing one in proportion to his strength,
as do the Hunting Wasprs; he accepts what
chance offers. Among his finds some are
small, such as the Shrew-mouse; some me-
dium-sized, such as the Field-mouse; some
enormous, such as the Mole, the Sewer-rat
and the Snake, any of which exceeds the dig-
ging-powers of a single sexton. In the ma-
jority of cases, transportation is impossible,
so greatly disproportioned is the burden to
the motive-power. A slight displacement,
caused by the effort of the insects' backs, is
all that can possibly be effected.

Ammophila and Cerceris,1 Sphex and
Pompilus excavate their burrows wherever
they please; they carry their prey on the
wing, or, if too heavy, drag it afoot. The
Necrophorus knows no such facilities in his
task. Incapable of carting the monstrous
corpse, no matter where encountered, he is
forced to dig the grave where the body lies.

This obligatory place of sepulture may be
in stony soil or in shifting sand; it may oc-
cupy this or that bare spot, or some other
where the grass, especially the couch-grass,
plunges into the ground its inextricable net-
work of little cords. There is a great pro-

1 Cf. The Hunting Wasps: chaps, i. to iii. — Trans-
lator's Note.

3Q4

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

bability, too, that a bristle of stunted bram-
bles may be supporting the body at some
inches above the soil. Slung by the labour-
er's spade, which has just broken his back,
the Mole falls here, there, anywhere, at
random; and where the body falls, no mat-
ter what the obstacles, provided that they be
not insurmountable, there the undertaker
must utilize it.

The difficulties of inhumation are capable
of such variety as causes us already to fore-
see that the Necrophorus cannot employ fixed
methods in performing his task. Exposed
to fortuitous hazards, he must be able to
modify his tactics within the limits of his
modest discernment. To saw, to break, to
disentangle, to lift, to shake, to displace:
these are so many means which are indis-
pensable to the grave-digger in a predica-
ment. Deprived of these resources, reduced
to uniformity of procedure, the insect would
be incapable of pursuing its calling.

We see at once how imprudent it would
be to draw conclusions from an isolated case
in which rational co-ordination or premedi-
tated intention might appear to play its part.
Every instinctive action no doubt has its
motive ; but does the animal in the first place
judge whether the action is opportune ? Let
305

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

us begin by a careful consideration of the
creature's labours; let us support each piece
of evidence by others; and then we shall per-
haps be able to answer the question.

First of all, a word as to diet. A gen-
eral scavenger, the Burying-beetle refuses no
sort of cadaveric putrescence. All is good
to his senses, feathered game or furry, pro-
vided that the burden do not exceed his
strength. He exploits the batrachian or the
reptile with no less animation. He accepts
without hesitation extraordinary finds, pro-
bably unknown to his race, as witness a cer-
tain Gold-fish, a red Chinese Carp, whose
body, placed in one of my cages, was forth-
with considered an excellent tit-bit and bur-
ied according to the rules. Nor is butcher's
meat despised. A mutton-cutlet, a strip of
beef-steak, in the right stage of maturity,
disappeared beneath the soil, receiving the
same attentions as those lavished on the Mole
or the Mouse. In short, the Necrophorus
has no exclusive preferences; anything putrid
he conveys underground.

The maintenance of his industry, there-
fore, presents no sort of difficulty. If one
kind of game be lacking, some other, the first
to hand, will very well replace it. Nor is
there much trouble in fixing the site of his
306

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

industry. A capacious wire-gauze cover,
resting on an earthen pan filled to the brim
with fresh, heaped sand, is sufficient. To
obviate criminal attempts on the part of the
Cats, whom the game would not fail to tempt,
the cage is installed in a closed glass-house,
which in winter shelters the plants and in
summer serves as an entomological labora-
tory.

Now to work. The Mole lies in the cen-
tre of the enclosure. The soil, easily shifted
and homogeneous, realizes the best condi-
tions for comfortable work. Four Necro-
phori, three males and a female, are there
with the body. They remain invisible, hid-
den beneath the carcase, which from time to
time seems to return to life, shaken from
end to end by the backs of the workers. An
observer not in the secret would be somewhat
astonished to see the dead creature move.
From time to time, one of the sextons, al-
most always a male, comes out and walks
round the animal, which he explores, probing
its velvet coat. He hurriedly returns, ap-
pears again, once more investigates and
creeps back under the corpse.

The tremors become more pronounced;
the carcase oscillates, while a cushion of sand,
pushed out from below, grows up all around
307

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

it. The Mole, by reason of his own weight
and the efforts of the grave-diggers, who are
labouring at their task underneath, gradu-
ally sinks, for lack of support, into the un-
dermined soil.

Presently the sand which has been pushed
out quivers under the thrust of the invisible
miners, slips into the pit and covers the in-
terred Mole. It is a clandestine burial.
The body seems to disappear of itself, as
though engulfed by a fluid medium. For a
long time yet, until the depth is regarded as
sufficient, the body will continue to descend.

It is, on the whole, a very simple opera-
tion. As the diggers below deepen the cav-
ity into which the corpse, shaken and tugged
above, sinks without the direct intervention
of the sextons, the grave fills of itself by the
mere slipping of the soil. Stout shovels at
the tips of their claws, powerful backs, ca-
pable of creating a little earthquake: the
diggers need nothing more for the practice
of their profession. Let us add — for this
is an essential point — the art of continually
jerking the body, so as to pack it into a lesser
volume and make it glide through difficult
passages. We shall soon see that this art
plays a leading part in the industry of the Ne-
crophori.

308

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

Although he has disappeared, the Mole is
still far from having reached his destination.
Let us leave the undertakers to finish their
job. What they are now doing below
ground is a continuation of what they
did on the surface and would teach us no-
thing new. We will wait for two or three
days.

The moment has come. Let us inform
ourselves of what is happening down there.
Let us visit the place of corruption. I shall
never invite anybody to the exhumation. Of
those about me, only little Paul has the cour-
age to assist me.

The Mole is a Mole no longer, but a
greenish horror, putrid, hairless, shrunk into
a sort of fat, greasy rasher. The thing must
have undergone careful manipulation to be
thus condensed into a small volume, like a
fowl in the hands of the cook, and, above all,
to be so completely deprived of its furry
coat. Is this culinary procedure undertaken
in respect of the larvae, which might be in-
commoded by the fur? Or is it just a casual
result, a mere loss of hair due to putridity?
I am not certain. But it is always the case
that these exhumations, from first to last,
have revealed the furry game furless and the
feathered game featherless, except for the
309

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

pinion- and tail-feathers. Reptiles and fish,
on the other hand-, retain their scales.

Let us return to the unrecognizable thing
that was once a Mole. The tit-bit lies in a
spacious crypt, with firm walls, a regular
workshop, worthy of being the bake-house
of a Copris. Except for the fur, which lies
scattered about in flocks, it is intact. The
grave-diggers have not eaten into it: it is the
patrimony of the sons, not the provision of
the parents, who, to sustain themselves, levy
at most a few mouthfuls of the ooze of putrid
humours.

Beside the dish which they are kneading
and protecting are two Necrophori; a couple,
no more. Four collaborated in the burial.
What has become of the other two, both
males? I find them hidden in the soil, at a
distance, almost on the surface.

This observation is not an isolated one.
Whenever I am present at a funeral under-
taken by a squad in which the males, zealous
one and all, predominate, I find presently,
when the burial is completed, only one couple
in the mortuary cellar. After lending their
assistance, the rest have discreetly retired.

These grave-diggers, in truth, are remark-
able fathers. They have nothing of the
happy-go-lucky paternal carelessness that is
310

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

the general rule among insects, which pester
the mother for a moment with their atten-
tions and then leave her to care for the off-
spring! But those who would be idlers in
the other castes here labour valiantly, now
in the interest of their own family, now in
that of another's, without distinction. If -a
couple is in difficulties, helpers arrive, at-
tracted by the odour of carrion; anxious to
serve a lady, they creep under the body,
work at it with back and claw, bury it and
then go their ways, leaving the master and
mistress of the house to their happiness.

For some time longer these two manipu-
late the morsel in concert, stripping it of fur
or feather, trussing it and allowing it to sim-
mer to the grub's taste. When everything is
in order, the couple go forth, dissolving their
partnership; and each, following his fancy,
begins again elsewhere, even if only as a mere
auxiliary.

Twice and no oftener hitherto have I
found the father preoccupied by the future
of his sons and labouring in order to leave
them rich: it happens with certain dung-
workers and with the Necrophori, who bury
dead bodies. Scavengers and undertakers
both have exemplary morals. Who would
look for virtue in such a quarter?
311

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

What follows — the larval existence and
the metamorphosis — is a secondary and, for
that matter, a familiar detail. It is a dry
subject and I will deal with it briefly. At
the end of May, I exhume a Brown Rat,
buried by the grave-diggers a fortnight
earlier. Transformed into a black, sticky
mass, the horrible dish provides me with fif-
teen larvae already, for the most part, of
the normal size. A few adults, unquestion-
ably connections of the brood, are also
swarming amid the putrescence. The laying-
time is over now and victuals are plentiful.
Having nothing else to do, the foster-parents
have sat down to the feast with the nurs-
lings.

The undertakers are quick at rearing a
family. It is at most a fortnight since the
Rat was laid in the earth; and here already
is a vigorous population on the verge of the
metamorphosis. This precocity amazes me.
It would seem as though carrion liquefaction,
deadly to any other stomach, were in this
case a food productive of special energy,
which stimulates the organism and acceler-
ates its growth, so that the fare may be con-
sumed before its approaching conversion into
mould. Living chemistry makes haste to
312

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

outstrip the ultimate reactions of mineral
chemistry.

White, naked, blind, possessing the cus-
tomary attributes of life spent in the dark,
the larva, with its tapering outline, is slightly
reminiscent of the Ground-beetles'. The
mandibles are black and powerful and make
excellent dissecting-scissors. The limbs are
short, but capable of a quick, toddling gait.
The segments of the abdomen are clad on
the upper surface in a narrow red plate,
armed with four little spikes, whose office ap-
parently is to furnish points of support when
the larva quits the natal dwelling and dives
into the soil, there to undergo the transforma-
tion. The thoracic segments are provided
with wider plates, but unarmed.

The adults discovered in the company of
their larval family, in this putrescence which
was a Rat, are all abominably verminous.
So shiny and neat in their attire, when at
work under the first Moles of April, the
Necrophori, when June approaches, become
odious to look upon. A layer of parasites
envelops them; insinuating itself into the
joints, it forms an almost continuous crust.
The insect presents a misshapen appearance
under this overcoat of vermin, which my hair-
313

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

pencil can hardly brush aside. Driven off
the belly, the horde runs round the sufferer,
perches on his back and refuses to let go.

I recognize the Beetle's Gamasus, the Tick
who so often soils the ventral amethyst of
our Geotrupes. No, life's prizes do not go
to the useful. Necrophori and Geotrupes
devote themselves to the general health; and
these two corporations, so interesting in their
hygienic functions, so remarkable for their
domestic morals, fall victims to the vermin
of poverty. Alas, of this discrepancy be-
tween the services rendered and the harsh-
ness of life there are many other examples
outside the world of scavengers and under-
takers !

The Burying-beetles display an exemplary
domestic morality, but it does not continue till
the end. In the first fortnight of June, the
family being* sufficiently provided, the sextons
strike work and my cages are deserted on
the surface, in spite of new arrivals of Mice
and Sparrows. From time to time, some
grave-digger leaves the subsoil and comes
crawling languidly into the fresh air.

Another rather curious fact now attracts
my attention. All those who climb up from
underground are maimed, with limbs ampu-
tated at the joints, some higher up, some
314

The Burying-Beetles : The Burial

lower down. I see one cripple who has only
one leg left entire. With this odd limb and
the stumps of the others, lamentably tat-
tered, scaly with vermin, he rows, as it were,
over the sheet of dust. A comrade emerges,
better off for legs, who finishes the invalid
and cleans out his abdomen. Thus do my
thirteen remaining Necrophori end their
days, half-devoured by their companions, or
at least shorn of several limbs. The pacific
relations of the outset are succeeded by can-
nibalism.

History tells us that certain peoples, the
Massagetae and others, used to kill off their
old men to save them from senile misery.
The fatal blow on the hoary skull was in
their eyes an act of filial piety. The Necro-
phori have their share of these ancient bar-
barities. Full of days and henceforth use-
less, dragging out a weary existence, they
mutually exterminate one another. Why
prolong the agony of the impotent and the
imbecile ?

The Massagetae might plead, as an excuse
for their atrocious custom, a dearth of pro-
visions, which is an evil counsellor; not so
the Necrophori, for, thanks to my generosi-
ty, victuals are more than plentiful, both be-
neath the soil and on the surface. Famine
315

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

plays no part in this slaughter. What we see
is an aberration due to exhaustion, the morbid
fury of a life on the point of extinction. As
is generally the case, work bestows a peace-
able disposition on the grave-digger, while
inaction inspires him with perverted tastes.
Having nothing left to do, he breaks his
kinsman's limbs and eats him up, heedless of
being maimed or eaten himself. It is the
final deliverance of verminous old age.

This murderous frenzy, breaking out late
in life, is not peculiar to the Necrophorus. I
have described elsewhere the perversity of
the Osmia, so placid in the beginning. Feel-
ing her ovaries exhausted, she smashes her
neighbours' cells and even her own; she scat-
ters the dusty honey, rips open the egg, eats
it. The Mantis devours the lovers who have
played their parts ; the mother Decticus will-
ingly nibbles a thigh of her decrepit hus-
band; the merry Crickets, once the eggs are
laid in the ground, indulge in tragic domes-
tic quarrels and with not the least compunc-
tion slash open one another's bellies. When
the cares of the family are finished, the joys
of life are finished likewise. The insect then
sometimes becomes depraved; and its dis-
ordered mechanism ends in aberrations.

The larva has nothing striking to show in
316

The Burying-Beetles: The Burial

the way of industry. When it has fattened
to the desired extent, it leaves the charnel-
house of the natal crypt and descends into
the earth, far from the putrefaction. Here,
working with its legs and its dorsal armour,
it presses back the sand around it and makes
itself a close cabin wherein to rest for the
metamorphosis. When the lodge is ready
and the torpor of the approaching moult ar-
rives, it lies inert; but, at the least alarm,
it comes to life and turns round on its axis.

Even so do several nymphs spin round
and round when disturbed, notably that of
JEgasomus scabricornis which I have now
before my eyes in July. It is always a fresh
surprise to see these mummies suddenly
throw off their immobility and gyrate on their
own axis with a mechanism whose secret de-
serves to be fathomed. The science of ra-
tional mechanics might find something here
to whet its finest theories upon. The
strength and litheness of a clown cannot com-
pare with those of this budding flesh, this
hardly coagulated glair.

Once isolated in its cell, the larva of the
Necrophorus becomes a nymph in ten days
or so. I lack the evidence furnished by di-
rect observation, but the story is completed
of itself. The Necrophorus must assume
317

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

the adult form in the course of the summer;
like the Dung-beetle, he must enjoy in the
autumn a few days of revelry free from fam-
ily cares. Then, when the cold weather
draws near, he goes to earth in his winter
quarters, whence he emerges as soon as spring
arrives.

318

CHAPTER XII

THE BURYING-BEETLES: EXPERIMENTS

LET us come to the feats of reason which
have earned for the Necrophorus the
best part of his fame and, to begin with, sub-
mit the case related by Clairville, that of
the too hard soil and the call for assistance,
to the test of experiment.

With this object I pave the centre of the
space beneath the cover, flush with the soil,
with a brick, which I sprinkle with a thin
layer of sand. This will be the soil that
cannot be dug. All around it, for some dis-
tance and on the same level, lies the loose
soil, which is easy to delve.

In order to approach the conditions of
the anecdote, I must have a Mouse; with a
Mole, a heavy mass, the removal would per-
haps present too much difficulty. To obtain
one, I place my friends and neighbours under
requisition; they laugh at my whim but none
the less proffer their traps. Yet, the mo-
ment a very common thing is needed, it be-
comes rare. Defying decency in his speech,
after the manner of his ancestors' Latin, the
319

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

Provencal says, but even more crudely than
in my translation:

" If you look for dung, the Donkeys be-
come constipated ! "

At last I possess the Mouse of my dreams !
She comes to me from that refuge, furnished
with a truss of straw, in which official charity
grants a day's hospitality to the pauper wan-
dering over the face of the fertile earth,
from that municipal hostel whence one in-
evitably issues covered with Lice. O Reau-
mur,1 who used to invite marchionesses to see
your caterpillars change their skins, what
would you have said of a future disciple
conversant with such squalor as this? Per-
haps it is well that we should not be ig-
norant of it, so that we may have compassion
with that of the beast.

The Mouse so greatly desired is mine.
I place her upon the centre of the brick.
The grave-diggers under the wire cover are
now seven in number, including three fe-
males. All have gone to earth; some are
inactive, close to the surface; the rest are
busy in their crypts. The presence of the

1 Rene Antoine Ferchault de Reaumur (1683-1757), the
inventor of the Reaumur thermometer and author of
Mimoires pour servir a I'histoire naturelle des insectes
(1734-1742). — Translator's Note.

320

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

fresh corpse is soon perceived. About seven
o'clock in the morning, three Necrophori
come hurrying up, two males and a female.
They slip under the Mouse, who moves in
jerks, a sign of the efforts of the burying-
party. An attempt is made to dig into the
layer of sand which hides the brick, so that
a bank of rubbish accumulates round the
body.

For a couple of hours the jerks continue
without results. I profit by the circumstance
to learn the manner in which the work is
performed. The bare brick allows me to see
what the excavated soil would conceal from
me. When it is necessary to move the body,
the Beetle turns over; with his six claws he
grips the hair of the dead animal, props
himself upon his back and pushes, using his
forehead and the tip of his abdomen as a
lever. When he wants to dig, he resumes
the normal position. So, turn and turn
about, the sexton strives, now with his legs
in the air, when it is a question of shifting
the body or dragging it lower down; now
with his feet on the ground, when it is neces-
sary to enlarge the grave.

The point at which the Mouse lies is
finally recognized as unassailable. A male
appears in the open. He explores the
321

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

corpse, goes round it, scratches a little at
random. He goes back; and immediately
the dead body rocks. Is he advising his col-
laborators of what he has discovered? Is
he arranging the work with a view to their
establishing themselves elsewhere, on pro-
pitious soil?

The facts are far from confirming this
idea. When he shakes the body, the others
imitate him and push, but without combining
their efforts in a given direction, for, after
advancing a little towards the edge of the
brick, the burden goes back agaih, returning
to the point of departure. In the absence of
a concerted understanding, their efforts of
leverage are wasted. Nearly three hours
are occupied by oscillations which mutually
annul one another. The Mouse does not
cross the little sand-hill heaped about her by
the rakes of the workers.

For the second time, a male appears and
makes a round of exploration. A boring is
effected in loose earth, close beside the brick.
This is a trial excavation, to learn the na-
ture of the soil, a narrow well, of no great
depth, into which the insect plunges to half
its length. The well-sinker returns to the
other workers, who arch their backs, and the
load progresses a finger's-breadth towards
322

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

the point recognized as favourable. Have
we done the trick this time? No, for after
a while the Mouse recoils. There is no
progress towards a solution of the difficulty.

Now two males come out in search of in-
formation, each of his own accord. Instead
of stopping at the point already sounded, a
point most judiciously chosen, it seemed, on
account of its proximity, which would save
laborious carting, they precipitately scour the
whole area of the cage, trying the soil on
this side and on that and ploughing super-
ficial furrows in it. They get as far from
the brick as the limits of the enclosure per-
mit.

They dig, by preference, against the base
of the cover; here they make several bor-
ings, without any reason, so far as I can see,
the bed of soil being everywhere equally as-
sailable away from the brick; the first point
sounded is abandoned for a second, which
is rejected in its turn. A third and fourth
are tried; then another. At the sixth point
the choice is made. In all these cases the
excavation is by no means a grave destined
to receive the Mouse, but a mere trial bor-
ing, of inconsiderable depth and of the di-
ameter of the digger's body.

Back again to the Mouse, who suddenly
323

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

shakes, swings, advances, recoils, first in one
direction, then in another, until in the end the
hillock of sand is crossed. Now we are free
of the brick and on excellent soil. Little by
little the load advances. This is no cartage
by a team hauling in the open, but a jerky
removal, the work of invisible levers. The
body seems to shift of its own accord.

This time, after all those hesitations, the
efforts are concerted; at least, the load
reaches the region sounded far more rapidly
than I expected. Then begins the burial,
according to the usual method. It is one
o'clock. It has taken the Necrophori half-
way round the clock to ascertain the condi-
tion of the locality and to displace the Mouse.

In this experiment it appears, in the first
place, that the males play a major part in
the affairs of the household. Better-
equipped, perhaps, than their mates, they
make investigations when a difficulty occurs;
they inspect the soil, recognize whence the
check arises and choose the spot at which the
grave shall be dug. In the lengthy experi-
ment of the brick, the two males alone ex-
plored the surroundings and set to work to
solve the difficulty. Trusting her assistants,
the female, motionless beneath the Mouse,
awaited the result of their enquiries. The
324

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

tests which are to follow will confirm the
merits of these valiant auxiliaries.

In the second place, the points where the
Mouse lies being recognized as presenting
an insurmountable resistance, there is no
grave dug in advance, a little farther off, in
the loose soil. All the attempts are limited,
I repeat, to shallow soundings, which in-
form the insect of the possibility of inhuma-
tion.

It is absolute nonsense to speak of their
first preparing the grave to which the body
will afterwards be carted. In order to ex-
cavate the soil, our sextons have to feel the
weight of their dead upon their backs. They
work only when stimulated by the contact of
its fur. Never, never in this world, do they
venture to dig a grave unless the body to be
buried already occupies the site of the cavity.
This is absolutely confirmed by my two
months and more of daily observations.

The rest of Clairville's anecdote bears ex-
amination no better. We are told that the
Necrophorus in difficulties goes in search of
assistance and returns with companions who
assist him to bury the Mouse. This, in an-
other form, is the edifying story of the Sa-
cred Beetle whose pellet has rolled into a rut.
Powerless to withdraw his booty from the
325

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

abyss, the wily Dung-beetle summons three
or four of his neighbours, who kindly pull
out the pellet and return to their labours
when the work of salvage is done.1

The ill-interpreted exploit of the thieving
pill-roller sets me on my guard against that
of the undertaker. Shall I be too particular
if I ask what precautions the observer took
to recognize the owner of the Mouse on his
return, when he reappears, as we are told,
with four assistants? What sign denotes
that one of the five who was able, in so ra-
tional a manner, to call for help? Can we
even be sure that the one to disappear re-
turns and forms one of the band? There
is nothing to tell us so; and this was the es-
sential point which a sterling observer was
bound not to neglect. Were they not rather
five chance Necrophori who, guided by the
smell, without any previous understanding,
hastened to the abandoned Mouse to exploit
her on their own account? I incline to this
opinion, the likeliest of all in the absence of
exact information.

Probability becomes certainty if we check
the fact by experiment. The test with the

1 For the confutation of this theory, cf. The Sacred
Beetle and Others: chap. i. — Translator's Note.
326

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

brick already tells us something. For six
hours my three specimens exhausted them-
selves in efforts before they succeeded in re-
moving their booty and placing it on prac-
ticable soil. In this long and heavy job,
helpful neighbours would have been most
welcome. Four other Necrophori, buried
here and there under a little sand, comrades
and acquaintances, fellow-workers of the day
before, were occupying the same cage; and
not one of the busy ones thought of calling
on them to assist. Despite their extreme
embarrassment, the owners of the Mouse
accomplished their task to the end, without
the least help, though this could have been
so easily requisitioned.

Being three, one might say, they deemed
themselves strong enough ; they needed no
one else to lend them a hand. The objection
does not hold good. On many occasions and
under conditions even more difficult than
those presented by a hard soil, I have again
and again seen isolated Necrophori wearing
themselves out against my artifices; yet not
once did they leave their workshop to recruit
helpers. Collaborators, it is true, often ar-
rive, but they are summoned by their sense
of smell, not by the first occupant. They
are fortuitous helpers; they are never called
327

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

in. They are received without strife but also
without gratitude. They are not summoned ;
they are tolerated.

In the glazed shelter where I keep the
cage I happened to catch one of these chance
assistants in the act. Passing that way in
the night and scenting dead flesh, he had en-
tered where none of his kind had yet pene-
trated of his own accord. I surprised him
on the dome of the cover. If the wire had
not prevented him, he would have set to work
incontinently, in company with the rest.
Had my captives invited this one? As-
suredly not. Heedless of others' efforts, he
hastened up, attracted by the odour of the
Mole. So it was with those whose obliging
assistance is extolled. I repeat, in respect
of their imaginary prowess, what I have
said elsewhere of the Sacred Beetle's: it is
a child's story, worthy to rank with any fairy-
tale for the amusement of the simple.

A hard soil, necessitating the removal of
the body, is not the only difficulty with which
the Necrophori are acquainted. Frequently,
perhaps more often than not, the ground is
covered with grass, above all with couch-
grass, whose tenacious rootlets form an in-
extricable network below the surface. To
dig in the interstices is possible, but to drag
328

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

the dead animal through them is another mat-
ter: the meshes of the net are too close to
give it passage. Will the grave-digger find
himself helpless against such an obstacle,
which must be an extremely common one?
That could not be.

Exposed to this or that habitual impedi-
ment in the exercise of its calling, the ani-
mal is always equipped accordingly; other-
wise its profession would be impracticable.
No end is attained without the necessary
means and aptitudes. Besides that of the
excavator, the Necrophorus certainly pos-
sesses another art: the art of breaking the
cables, the roots, the stolons, the slender
rhizomes which check the body's descent into
the grave. To the work of the shovel and
the pick must be added that of the shears.
All this is perfectly logical and may be clearly
foreseen. Nevertheless, let us call in experi-
ment, the best of witnesses.

I borrow from the kitchen-range an iron
trivet whose legs will supply a solid founda-
tion for the engine which I am devising.
This is a coarse network made of strips of
raffia, a fairly accurate imitation of that of
the couch-grass. The very irregular meshes
are nowhere wide enough to admit of the
passage of the creature to be buried, which
329

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

this time is a Mole. The machine is planted
by its three feet in the soil of the cage, level
with the surface. A little sand conceals the
ropes. The Mole is placed in the centre;
and my bands of sextons are let loose upon
the body.

The burial is performed without a hitch
in the course of an afternoon. The raffia
hammock, almost the equivalent of the na-
tural network of the couch-grass, scarcely dis-
turbs the burying-process. Matters do not
proceed quite so quickly; and that is all. No
attempt is made to shift the Mole, who sinks
into the ground where he lies. When the
operation is finished, I remove the trivet.
The network is broken at the spot where the
corpse was lying. A few strips have been
gnawed through; a small number, only as
many as were strictly necessary to permit the
passage of the body.

Well done, my undertakers! I expected
no less of your skill and tact. You foiled
the experimenter's wiles by employing the re-
sources which you use against natural ob-
stacles. With mandibles for shears, you pa-
tiently cut my strings as you would have
gnawed the threads of the grass-roots. This
is meritorious, if not deserving of excep-
tional glorification. The shallowest of the
330

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

insects that work in earth would have done
as much if subjected to similar conditions.

Let us ascend a stage in the series of dif-
ficulties. The Mole is now fixed by a strap
of raffia fore and aft to a light horizontal
cross-bar resting on two firmly-planted forks.
It is like a joint of venison on the spit, ec-
centrically fastened. The dead animal
touches the ground throughout the length of
its body.

The Necrophori disappear under the
corpse and, feeling the contact of its fur,
begin to dig. The grave grows deeper and
an empty space appears; but the coveted ob-
ject does not descend, retained as it is by the
cross-bar which the two forks keep in place.
The digging slackens, the hesitations become
prolonged.

However, one of the grave-diggers climbs
to the surface, wanders over the Mole, in-
spects him and ends by perceiving the strap
at the back. He gnaws and ravels it tena-
ciously. I hear the click of the shears that
completes the rupture. Crack! The thing
is done. Dragged down by his own weight,
the Mole sinks into the grave, but slant-
wise, with his head still outside, kept in place
by the second strap.

The Beetles proceed with the burial of the
331

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

hinder part of the Mole; they twitch and
jerk it now in this direction, now in that.
Nothing comes of it; the thing refuses to
give. A fresh sortie is made by one of
them, to find out what is happening over-
head. The second strap is perceived, is se-
vered in turn; and henceforth the work goes
on as well as could be wished.

My compliments, perspicacious cable-cut-
ters ! But I must not exaggerate. The
Mole's straps were for you the little cords
with which you are so familiar in turfy soil.
You broke them, as well as the hammock of
the previous experiment, just as you sever
with the blades of your shears any natural
thread stretching across your catacombs. It
is an indispensable trick of your trade. If
you had had to learn it by experience, to
think it out before practising it, your race
would have disappeared, killed by the hesi-
tations of its apprenticeship, for the spots
prolific of Moles, Frogs, Lizards and other
viands to your taste are usually covered with
grass.

You are capable of much better things
still; but, before setting forth these, let us
examine the case when the ground bristles
with slender brushwood, which holds the
corpse at a short distance from the ground.
332

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

Will the find thus hanging where it chances
to fall remain unemployed? Will the Necro-
phori pass on, indifferent to the superb mor-
sel which they see and smell a few inches
above their heads, or will they make it drop
from its gibbet?

Game does not abound to such a point
that it can be despised if a few efforts will
obtain it. Before I see the thing happen, I
am persuaded that it will fall, that the Necro-
phori, often confronted with the difficulties
of a body not lying on the soil, must pos-
sess the instinct to shake it to the ground.
The fortuitous support of a few bits of stub-
ble, of a few interlaced twigs, so common
in the fields, cannot put them off. The drop
of the suspended body, if placed too high,
must certainly form part of their instinctive
methods. For the rest, let us watch them
at work.

I plant in the sand of the cage a meagre
tuft of thyme. The shrub is at most some
four inches in height. In the branches I
place a Mouse, entangling the tail, the paws
and the neck among the twigs to increase the
difficulty. The population of the cage now
consists of fourteen Necrophori and will re-
main the same until the close of my investi-
gations. Of course they do not all take part
333

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

simultaneously in the day's work: the ma-
jority remain underground, dozing or occu-
pied in setting their cellars in order. Some-
times only one, often two, three or four,
rarely more, busy themselves with the corpse
which I offer them. To-day, two hasten to
the Mouse, who is soon perceived overhead
on the tuft of thyme.

They gain the top of the plant by way
of the trelliswork of the cage. Here are re-
peated, with increased hesitation, due to the
inconvenient nature of the support, the tac-
tics employed to remove the body when the
soil is unfavourable. The insect props itself
against a branch, thrusting alternately with
back and claws, jerking and shaking vigor-
ously until the point whereat it is working
is freed from its fetters. In one brief shift,
by dint of heaving their backs, the two col-
laborators extricate the body from the tan-
gle. Yet another shake; and the Mouse is
down. The burial follows.

There is nothing new in this experiment:
the find has been treated just as though it lay
on soil unsuitable for burial. The fall is
the result of an attempt to transport the
load.

The time has come to set up the Frog's
gibbet made famous by Gleditsch. The ba-

334

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

trachian is "not indispensable; a Mole will
serve as well or even better. With a liga-
ment of raffia I fix him, by his hind-legs, to a
twig which I plant vertically in the ground,
inserting it to no great depth. The creature
hangs plumb against the gibbet, its head and
shoulders making ample contact with the
soil.

The grave-diggers set to work beneath the
part which lies along the ground, at the very
foot of the stake; they dig a funnel into
which the Mole's muzzle, head and neck sink
little by little. The gibbet becomes uprooted
as they descend and ends by falling, dragged
over by the weight of its heavy burden. I
am assisting at the spectacle of the overturned
stake, one of the most astonishing feats of
reason with which the insect has ever been
credited.

This, for one who is considering the pro-
blem of instinct, is an exciting moment. But
let us beware of forming conclusions just
yet; we might be in too great a hurry. Let
us first ask ourselves whether the fall of the
stake was intentional or accidental. Did
the Necrophori lay it bare with the express
purpose of making it fall? Or did they, on
the contrary, dig at its base solely in order
to bury that part of the Mole which lay on
335

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

the ground? That is the question, which,
for the rest, is very easy to answer.

The experiment is repeated; but this time
the gibbet is slanting and the Mole, hanging
in a vertical position, touches the ground at a
couple of inches from the base of the ap-
paratus. Under these conditions, absolutely
no attempt is made to overthrow it. Not
the least scrape of a claw is delivered at the
foot of the gibbet. The entire work of ex-
cavation is performed at a distance, under
the body, whose shoulders are lying on the
ground. Here and here only a hole is dug
to receive the front of the body, the part
accessible to the sextons.

A difference of an inch in the position of
the suspended animal destroys the famous
legend. Even so, many a time, the most
elementary sieve, handled with a little logic,
is enough to winnow a confused mass of
statements and to release the good grain of
truth.

Yet another shake of this sieve. The gib-
bet is slanting or perpendicular, no matter
which; but the Mole, fixed by his hind-legs
to the top of the twig, does not touch the
soil; he hangs a few fingers'-breadths from
the ground, out of the sextons' reach.

What will they do now? Will they
336

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

scrape at the foot of the gibbet in order to
overturn it? By no means; and the ingenu-
ous observer who looked for such tactics
would be greatly disappointed. No atten-
tion is paid to the base of the support. It
is not vouchsafed even a stroke of the rake.
Nothing is done to overturn it, nothing, ab-
solutely nothing! It is by other methods
that the Burying-beetles obtain the Mole.

These decisive experiments, repeated un-
der many different forms, prove that never,
never in this world, do the Necrophori dig,
or even give a superficial scrape, at the foot
of the gallows, unless the hanging body
touch the ground at that point. And, in the
latter case, if the twig should happen to fall,
this is in no way an intentional result, but a
mere fortuitous effect of the burial already
commenced.

What, then, did the man with the Frog,
of whom Gleditsch tells us, really see? If
his stick was overturned, the body placed to
dry beyond the assaults of the Necrophori
must certainly have touched the soil: a
strange precaution against robbers and
damp! We may well attribute more fore-
sight to the preparer of dried Frogs and
allow him to hang his animal a few inches
off the ground. In that case, as all my ex-
337

The Glow- Worm arid Other Beetles

periments emphatically declare, the fall of
the stake undermined by the sextons is a pure
matter of imagination.

Yet another of the fine arguments in fa-
vour of the reasoning-power of insects flies
from the light of investigation and founders
in the slough of error! I wonder at your
simple faith, O masters who take seriously
the statements of chance-met observers,
richer in imagination than in veracity; I won-
der at your credulous zeal, when, without
criticism, you build up your theories on such
absurdities !

Let us continue. The stake is henceforth
planted perpendicularly, but the body hang-
ing on it does not reach the base : a condition
enough to ensure that there will never be
any digging at this point. I make use of
a Mouse, who, by reason of her light weight,
will lend herself better to the insect's ma-
noeuvres. The dead animal is fixed by the
hind-legs to the top of the apparatus with a
raffia strap. It hangs plumb, touching the
stick.

Soon two Necrophori have discovered the
morsel. They climb the greased pole; they
explore the prize, poking their foreheads into
its fur. It is recognized as an excellent find.
To work, therefore. Here we have again,
338

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

but under more difficult conditions, the tac-
tics employed when it was necessary to dis-
place the unfavourably situated body: the
two collaborators slip between the Mouse
and the stake and, taking a grip of the twig
and exerting a leverage with their backs,
they jerk and shake the corpse, which sways,
twirls about, swings away from the stake and
swings back again. All the morning is
passed in vain attempts, interrupted by ex-
plorations on the animal's body.

In the afternoon, the cause of the check
is at last recognized; not very clearly, for
the two obstinate gallow-robbers first attack
the Mouse's hind-legs, a little way below the
strap. They strip them bare, flay them and
cut away the flesh about the foot. They
have reached the bone, when one of them
finds the string of raffia beneath his mandi-
bles. This, to him, is a familiar thing, rep-
resenting the grass-thread so frequent in
burials in turfy soil. Tenaciously the shears
gnaw at the bond; the fibrous fetter is
broken; and the Mouse falls, to be buried
soon after.

If it stood alone, this breaking of the sus-
pending tie would be a magnificent perform-
ance; but considered in connection with the
sum of the Beetle's customary labours it

339

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

loses any far-reaching significance. Before
attacking the strap, which was not concealed
in any way, the insect exerted itself for a
whole morning in shaking the body, its usual
method. In the end, finding the cord, it
broke it, as it would have broken a thread
of couch-grass encountered underground.

Under the conditions devised for the
Beetle, the use of the shears is the indis-
pensable complement of the use of the shovel ;
and the modicum of discernment at his dis-
posal is enough to inform him when it will
be well to employ the clippers. He cuts
what embarrasses him, with no more exer-
cise of reason than he displays when lower-
ing his dead Mouse underground. So little
does he grasp the relation of cause and effect
that he tries to break the bone of the leg be-
fore biting the raffia which is knotted close
beside him. The difficult task is attempted
before the extremely easy one.

Difficult, yes, but not impossible, provided
that the Mouse be young. I begin over
again with a strip of iron wire, on which the
insect's shears cannot get a grip, and a ten-
der Mousekin, half the size of an adult.
This time a tibia is gnawed through, sawed
in two by the Beetle's mandibles, near the
spring of the heel. The detached leg leaves
340

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

plenty of space for the other, which readily
slips from the metal band; and the little
corpse falls to the ground.

But, if the bone be too hard, if the prize
suspended be a Mole, an adult Mouse or a
Sparrow, the wire ligament opposes an in-
surmountable obstacle to the attempts of
the Necrophori, who, for nearly a week,
work at the hanging body, partly stripping
it of fur or feather and dishevelling it until
it forms a lamentable object, and at last
abandon it when desiccation sets in. And
yet a last resource remained, one as rational
as infallible: to overthrow the stake. Of
course, not one dreams of doing so.

For the last time let us change our artifices.
The top of the gibbet consists of a little fork,
with the prongs widely opened and measur-
ing barely two-fifths of an inch in length.
With a thread of hemp, less easily attacked
than a strip of raffia, I bind the hind-legs of
an adult Mouse together, a little above the
heels; and I slip one of the prongs in be-
tween. To bring the thing down one has
only to slide it a little way upwards ; it is like
a young Rabbit hanging in the window of a
poulterer's shop.

Five Necrophori come to inspect what I
have prepared. After much futile shaking,
34i

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

the tibiae are attacked. This, it seems, is
the method usually employed when the corpse
is caught by one of its limbs in some narrow
fork of a low-growing plant. While trying
to saw through the bone — a heavy job this
time — one of the workers slips between the
shackled legs; in this position, he feels the
furry touch of the Mouse against his chine.
No more is needed to arouse his propensity
to thrust with his back. With a few heaves
of the lever the thing is done : the Mouse
rises a little, slides over the supporting peg
and falls to the ground.

Is this manoeuvre really thought out?
Has the insect indeed perceived, by the light
of a flash of reason, that to make the morsel
fall it was necessary to unhook it by sliding
it along the peg? Has it actually perceived
the mechanism of the hanging? I know
some persons — indeed, I know many —
who, in the presence of this magnificent re-
sult, would be satisfied without further in-
vestigation.

More difficult to convince, I modify the
experiment before drawing a conclusion. I
suspect that the Necrophorus, without in any
way foreseeing the consequences of his ac-
tion, heaved his back merely because he felt
the animal's legs above him. With the sys-
342

r The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

tern of suspension adopted, the push of the
back, employed in all cases of difficulty, was
brought to bear first upon the point of sup-
port; and the fall resulted from this happy
coincidence. That point, which has to be
slipped along the peg in order to unhook the
object, ought really to be placed at a short
distance from the Mouse, so that the Necro-
phori may no longer feel her directly on
their backs when they push.

A wire binds together now the claws of
a Sparrow, now the heels of a Mouse and is
bent, three-quarters of an inch farther away,
into a little ring, which slips very loosely
over one of the prongs of the fork, a short,
almost horizontal prong. The least push of
this ring is enough to bring the hanging body
to the ground; and because it stands out it
lends itself excellently to the insect's methods.
In short, the arrangement is the same as
just now, with this difference, that the point
of support is at a short distance from the
animal hung up.

My trick, simple though it be, is quite
successful. For a long time the body is re-
peatedly shaken, but in vain; the tibiae, the
hard claws refuse to yield to the patient saw.
Sparrows and Mice grow dry and shrivel,
unused, upon the gallows. My Necrophori,

343

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

some sooner, some later, abandon the in-
soluble mechanical problem: to push, ever
so little, the movable support and so to un-
hook the coveted carcase.

Curious reasoners, in faith ! If, just now,
they had a lucid idea of the mutual relations
between the tied legs and the suspending
peg; if they made the Mouse fall by a rea-
soned manoeuvre, whence comes it that the
present artifice, no less simple than the first,
is to them an insurmountable obstacle? For
days and days they work on the body, ex-
amining it from head to foot, without no-
ticing the movable support, the cause of their
mishap. In vain I prolong my watch; I
never see a single one of them push the sup-
port with his foot or butt it with his head.

Their defeat is not due to lack of strength.
Like the Geotrupes, they are vigorous ex-
cavators. When you grasp them firmly in
your hand, they slip into the interstices of
the fingers and plough up your skin so as
to make you quickly loose your hold. With
his head, a powerful ploughshare, the Bee-
tle might very easily push the ring off its
short support. He is not able to do so, be-
cause he does not think of it; he does not
think of it, because he is devoid of the fac-
ulty attributed to him, in order to support

344

The Burying-Beetles : Experiments

their theories, by the dangerous generosity
of the evolutionists.

Divine reason, sun of the intellect, what
a clumsy slap in thy august countenance,
when the glorifiers of the animal degrade
thee with such denseness!

Let us now examine the mental obscurity
of the Necrophori under another aspect.
My captives are not so satisfied with their
sumptuous lodging that they do not seek to
escape, especially when there is a dearth of
labour, that sovran consoler of the afflicted,
man or beast. Internment within the wire
cover palls upon them. So, when the Mole
is buried and everything in order in the cellar,
they stray uneasily over the trellised dome;
they clamber up, come down, go up again and
take to flight, a flight which instantly becomes
a fall, owing to collision with the wire grat-
ing. They pick themselves up and begin all
over again. The sky is splendid,; the
weather is hot, calm and propitious for those
in search of the Lizard crushed beside the
footpath. Perhaps the effluvia of the gamy
tit-bit have reached them from afar, imper-
ceptible to any other sense than that of the
grave-diggers. My Necrophori therefore
would be glad to get away.

Can they? Nothing would be easier, if

345

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

a glimmer of reason were to aid them.
Through the trelliswork, over which they
have so often strayed, they have seen, out-
side, the free soil, the promised land which
they want to reach. A hundred times if
once have they dug at the foot of the ram-
part. There, in vertical wells, they take up
their station, drowsing whole days on end
while unemployed. If I give them a fresh
Mole, they emerge from their retreat by the
entrance-corridor and come to hide them-
selves beneath the belly of the beast. The
burial over, they return, one here, one there,
to the confines of the enclosure and disap-
pear underground.

Well, in two and a half months of cap-
tivity, despite long stays at the base of the
trellis, at a depth of three-quarters of an
inch beneath the surface, it is rare indeed
for a Necrophorus to succeed in circumvent-
ing the obstacle, in prolonging his excava-
tion beneath the barrier, in digging an elbow
and bringing it out on the other side, a
trifling task for these vigorous creatures.
Of fourteen only one succeeds in escaping.

A chance deliverance and not premedit-
ated; for, if the happy event had been the
result of a mental combination, the other
prisoners, practically his equals in powers
346

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

of perception, would all, from first to last,
have discovered by rational means the el-
bowed path leading to the outer world; and
the cage would promptly be deserted. The
failure of the great majority proves that the
single fugitive was simply digging at random.
Circumstances favoured him; and that is all.
We must not put it to his credit that he suc-
ceeded where all the others failed.

We must also beware of attributing to the
Necrophori a duller understanding than is
usual in insect psychology. I find the in-
eptness of the undertaker in all the Beetles
reared under the wire cover, on the bed of
sand into which the rim of the dome sinks
a little way. With very rare exceptions,
fortuitous accidents, not one thinks of cir-
cumventing the barrier by way of the base;
not one manages to get outside by means
of a slanting tunnel, not even though he be
a miner by profession, as are the Dung-
beetles par excellence. Captives under the
wire dome and anxious to escape, Sacred
Beetles, Geotrupes, Copres, Gymnopleuri,1
Sisyphi,2 all see about them the free space, the
joys of the open sunlight; and not one thinks

1 Cf. The Sacred Beetle and Others: chap. vii. — Trans-
lator's Note.

2 Cf . idem : chap. xv. — Translator's Note.

347

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

of going round under the rampart, which
would present no difficulty to their pick-
axes.

Even in the higher ranks of animality, ex-
amples of similar mental obfuscation are not
lacking. Audubon 1 tells us how, in his days,
wild Turkeys were caught in North America.
In a clearing known to be frequented by
these birds, a great cage was constructed with
stakes driven into the ground. In the centre
of the enclosure opened a short tunnel, which
dipped under the palisade and returned to
the surface outside the cage by a gentle slope,
which was open to the sky. The central
opening, wide enough to give a bird free
passage, occupied only a portion of the en-
closure, leaving around it, against the circle
of stakes, a wide unbroken zone. A few
handfuls of maize were scattered in the in-
terior of the trap, as well as round about it,
and in particular along the sloping path,
which passed under a sort of bridge and led
to the centre of the contrivance. In short,
the Turkey-trap presented an ever-open
door. The bird found it in order to enter,

1 John James Audubon (1780-1851), the noted Ameri-
can ornithologist, of French descent, author of Birds of
America (1827-1830) and Ornithological Biography
(1831-1839). — Translator's Note.

348

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

but did not think of looking for it in order to
go out.

According to the famous American orni-
thologist, the Turkeys, lured by the grains
of maize, descended the insidious slope, en-
tered the short underground passage and be-
held, at the end of it, plunder and the light.
A few steps farther and the gluttons emerged,
one by one, from beneath the bridge. They
distributed themselves about the enclosure.
The maize was abundant; and the Turkeys'
crops grew swollen.

When all was gathered, the band wished
to retreat, but not one of the prisoners paid
any attention to the central hole by which he
had arrived. Gobbling uneasily, they passed
again and again across the bridge whose arch
was yawning beside them; they circled round
against the palisade, treading a hundred
times in their own footprints; they thrust
their necks, with their crimson wattles,
through the hars; and there, with their beaks
in the open air, they fought and struggled
until they were exhausted.

Remember, O inept one, what happened
but a little while ago; think of the tunnel
that led you hither! If that poor brain of
yours contains an atom of ability, put two
ideas together and remind yourself that the

349

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

passage by which you entered is there and
open for your escape ! You will do nothing of
the kind. The light, an irresistible attrac-
tion, holds you subjugated against the pali-
sade; and the shadow of the yawning pit,
which has but lately permitted you to enter
and will quite as readily permit you to go out,
leaves you indifferent. To recognize the use
of this opening you would have to reflect a
little, to recall the past; but this tiny retro-
spective calculation is beyond your powers.
So the trapper, returning a few days later,
will find a rich booty, the entire flock impris-
oned!

Of poor intellectual repute, does the
Turkey deserve his name for stupidity? He
does not appear to be more limited than
another. Audubon depicts him as endowed
with certain useful ruses, in particular when
he has to baffle the attacks of his nocturnal
enemy, the Virginian Owl. As for his be-
haviour in the snare with the underground
passage, any other bird, impassioned of the
light, would do the same.

Under rather more difficult conditions,
the Necrophorus repeats the ineptness of the
Turkey. When he wishes to return to the
daylight, after resting in a short burrow
against the rim of the cover, the Beetle, see-
350

The Burying-Beetles: Experiments

ing a little light filtering through the loose
soil, reascends the entrance-well, incapable
of telling himself that he has only to prolong
the tunnel as far in the opposite direction
to reach the outer world beyond the wall and
gain his freedom. Here again is one in
whom we shall seek in vain for any sign of
reflection. Like the rest, in spite of his
legendary renown, he has no guide but the
unconscious promptings of instinct.

35i

CHAPTER XIII

THE GIANT SCARITES

THE military profession can hardly be
said to favour the talents. Consider
the Carabus, or Ground-beetle, that fiery
warrior among the insect people. What
can he do? In the way of industry, nothing
or next to nothing. Nevertheless the dull
butcher is magnificent in his indescribably
sumptuous jerkin. It has the refulgency of
copper pyrites, of gold, of Florentine bronze.
While clad in black, he enriches his sombre
costume with a vivid amethyst hem. On the
wing-cases, which fit him like a cuirass, he
wears little chains of alternate pins and
bosses.

Of a handsome and commanding figure,
slender and pinched in at the waist, the Cara-
bus is the glory of our collections, but only
for the sake of his appearance. He is a
frenzied murderer; and that is all. We will
ask nothing more of him. The wisdom of
antiquity represented Hercules, the god of
strength, with the head of an idiot. And in-
deed merit is not great when limited to brute
force. And this is the case with the Carabus.
352

The Giant Scarites

To see him so richly adorned, who would
not wish to find him a fine subject for in-
vestigation, one worthy of history, a subject
such as humbler natures provide with lavish
generosity? From this ferocious ransacker
of entrails we expect nothing of the kind.
His art is that of slaying.

We may without trouble observe him at his
bandit's work. I rear him in a large breed-
ing-cage on a layer of fresh sand. A few
potsherds scattered about the surface enable
him to take shelter beneath the rocks; a tuft
of grass planted in the centre makes a grove
and enlivens the establishment.

Three species compose the population : the
common Jardiniere, or Golden Beetle, the
usual inmate of our gardens; Procustes
coriaceus, the sombre and powerful explorer
of the grassy thickets at the foot of walls;
and the rare Purple Carabus, who trims the
ebony of his wing-cases with metallic violet.
I feed them on Snails, after partly removing
the shell.

Hidden at first promiscuously under the
potsherds, the Carabi make a rush for the
wretched Snail, who, in his despair, alter-
nately puts out and withdraws his horns.
Three of them at a time, then four, then five
begin by devouring the edge of his mantle,
353

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

specked with chalky atoms. This is the fa-
vourite morsel. With their mandibles, those
stout pincers, they lay hold of it through the
froth; they tug at it, tear off a shred and re-
tire to a distance to swallow it at their ease.

Meanwhile the legs, streaming with slime,
pick up grains of sand and become covered
with heavy gaiters, which are extremely
cumbersome but to which the Beetle pays no
attention. Heavy with mire, he staggers
back to his prey and cuts off another morsel.
He will think of polishing his boots presently.
Others do not stir, but gorge themselves on
the spot, with the whole fore-part of their
body immersed in the froth. The feast
lasts for hours on end. The guests do not
leave the joint until the distended belly lifts
the roof of the wing-cases and uncovers the
nudities of the stern.

Fonder of shady nooks, the Procustes form
a separate company. They drag the Snail
into their lair, under the shelter of a potsherd,
and there, peacefully and in common, dis-
member the mollusc. They love the Slug,
as easier to cut up than the Snail, who is de-
fended by his shell; they regard the Testa-
cella,1 who bears a chalky shell, shaped like

1 Or Shell-bearing Slug, found along the shore? of the
Mediterranean. — Translator's Note.
354

The Giant Scarites

a Phrygian cap, right at the hinder end of
her foot, as a delicious tit-bit. The game
has firmer flesh and is less nauseously slimy.

To feast gluttonously on a Snail whom I
myself have rendered defenseless by break-
ing her shell is nothing for a warrior to
boast about; but we shall soon see the Cara-
bus display his daring. I offer a Pine-chafer,
in the pink of strength, to the Golden Beetle,
whose appetite has been whetted by a few
days' fasting. The victim is a colossus be-
side the Golden Carabus; an Ox facing a
Wolf.

The beast of prey prowls round the peace-
ful creature and selects its moment. It
rushes forward, recoils, hesitates and returns
to the charge. And lo, the giant is over-
thrown ! Incontinently the other devours
him, ransacking his belly. If this had hap-
pened in a higher order of the animal world,
it would make one's flesh creep to watch the
Carabus half immersed in the big Cockchafer
and rooting out his entrails.

I test the eviscerator with a more difficult
quarry. This time the victim is Oryctes
nasicornis, the powerful Rhinoceros Beetle,
an invincible giant, one would think, under
the shelter of his armour. But the hunter
knows the weak point of the horn-clad prey,

355

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

the fine skin protected by the wing-cases.
By means of attacks which the assailant re-
news as soon as they are repulsed by the as-
sailed, the Carabus contrives to raise the
cuirass slightly and to slip his head beneath
it. From the moment that the pincers have
made a gash in the vulnerable skin, the
Rhinoceros is lost. Soon there will be no-
thing left of the colossus but a pitiful empty
carcase.

Those who wish for a more hideous con-
flict must apply to Calosoma sycophanta, the
handsomest of our flesh-eating insects, the
most majestic in costume and size. This
prince of Carabi is the butcher of the cater-
pillars. He is not to be overawed even by
the sturdiest of rumps.

His struggle with the huge caterpillar of
the Great Peacock Moth 1 is a thing to see
once, not oftener : a single experience of such
horrors is enough to disgust one. The con-
tortions of the eviscerated insect, which, with
a sudden heave of the loins, hurls the bandit
in the air and lets him fall, belly uppermost,
without managing to make him release his
hold; the green entrails spilt quivering on the

1 Cf. The Life of the Caterpillar: chap. xi. — Trans-
lator's Note.

356

The Giant Scarites

ground; the tramping gait of the murderer,
drunk with slaughter, slaking his thirst at
the springs of a horrible wound: these are
the main features of the combat. If en-
tomology had no other scenes to show us, I
should without the least regret turn my back
upon my insects.

Next day, offer the sated Beetle a Green
Grasshopper or a White-faced Decticus,
serious adversaries both, armed with power-
ful lower jaws. With these big-bellied
creatures the slaughter will begin anew, as
eagerly as on the day before. It will be re-
peated later with the Pine-chafer and the
Rhinoceros Beetle, accompanied by the usual
atrocious tactics of the Carabi. Even better
than these last does the Calosoma know the
weak point of the armoured Beetles, con-
cealed beneath the wing-cases. And this will
go on so long as we keep him provided with
victims, for this drinker of blood is never
satiated.

Acrid exhalations, the products of a fiery
temperament, accompany this frenzy for
carnage. The Carabi elaborate caustic
humours; the Procrustes squirts a jet of
vinegar at any one who takes hold of him;
the Calosoma makes the fingers smell of
357

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

mouldy drugs; certain Beetles, such as the
Brachini,1 understand explosives and singe
the aggressor's whiskers with a volley of
musketry.

Distillers of corrosives, gunners throwing
lyddite, bombers employing dynamite : what
can all these violent creatures, so well
equipped for battle, do beyond committing
slaughter? Nothing. We find no art, no
industry, not even in the larva, which pract-
ices the adult's trade and meditates its
crimes while wandering under the stones.
Nevertheless it is to one of these dull-witted
warriors that I am deliberately proposing
to apply to-day, prompted by the wish to
solve a certain question. Let me tell you
what it is.

You have surprised this or that insect,
motionless on a bough, blissfully basking in
the sun. Your hand is raised, open, ready
to descend on it and seize it. Hardly have
you made the movement when the insect
drops to the ground. It is a wearer of
armoured wing-cases, slow to disengage the
wings from their horny sheath, or perhaps
an incomplete form, with no wing-surfaces.

1 Or Bombardier Beetles. When disturbed, they eject
a fluid which volatilizes, on contact with the air, with a
slight report. — Translator's Note.

358

The Giant Scarites

Incapable of sudden flight, the surprised in-
sect lets itself fall. You look for it in the
grass, often in vain. If you do find it, it is ly-
ing on its back, with its legs folded, without
stirring.

It is shamming dead, people will tell you ;
it is pretending, in order to escape its enemy.
Man is certainly unknown to it; we count
for nothing in its little world. What does
it care for our hunting, whether we be child-
ren or scientists? It does not fear the col-
lector with his long pin ; but it realizes danger
in general; and it dreads its natural enemy,
the insectivorous bird, which swallows it with
a single snap. To outwit the assailant, it
lies upon its back, draws up its legs and
simulates death. The bird, or any other
persecutor, will despise it in this condition;
and its life will be saved.

This, we are assured, is how the insect
would reason if suddenly surprised. The
trick has long been famous. Once upon a
time, two friends, at the end of their re-
sources, sold the skin of a Bear before they
had killed the brute. The encounter was
unfortunate : they had to take to their heels.
One of them stumbled, fell, held his breath
and shammed dead. The Bear came up,
turned the man over and over, explored him

359

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

with his paw and his muzzle, sniffed at his
face:

" He smells already," he said and, with-
out more ado, turned away.

That Bear was a simpleton.

The bird would not be duped by this
clumsy stratagem. In those happy days
when the discovery of a nest marked a red-
letter day, I never saw my Sparrows or
Greenfinches refuse a Locust because he was
not moving, or a Fly because she was dead.
Any mouthful that does not kick is eagerly
accepted, provided that it be fresh and pleas-
ant to the taste.

If the insect, therefore, relies on the ap-
pearance of death, it would seem to me to be
very badly inspired. More wary than the
Bear in the fable, the bird, with its per-
spicacious eye, will recognize the fraud in a
moment and proceed to business. Besides,
had the object really been a corpse, but still
fresh, it would none the less have gobbled
it up.

More insistent doubts occur to my mind
when I consider the serious consequences to
which the insect's artfulness might lead. It
shams dead, says the popular idiom, which
recks little of weighing the value of its term;
it simulates death, scientific language repeats,
360

The Giant Scarites

happy to find some gleams of reason in the
insect. What truth is there in this unani-
mous statement, which in the one case is too
unreflecting and in the other too much in-
clined to favour theoretical fancies?

Logical arguments are insufficient here.
It is essential that we should obtain the ver-
dict of experiment, which alone can furnish
a valid reply. But to which of the insects
shall we go first?

I remember something that dates back
some forty years. Delighted with a recent
University triumph, I was staying at Cette,
on my return from Toulouse, where I had
just passed my examination as a licentiate
in natural science. It gave me a fine chance
of renewing my acquaintance with the sea-
side flora, which had delighted me a few
years before on the shores of the wonderful
Gulf of Ajaccio. It would have been foolish
to neglect it. A degree does not confer the
right to cease studying. If one really has a
touch of the sacred fire in one's veins, one
remains a student all one's life, not of books,
which are a poor resource, but of the great,
inexhaustible school of actual things.

One day, then, in July, in the cool stillness
of the dawn, I was botanizing on the fore-
shore at Cette. For the first time I plucked
361

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

the Convolvulus soldanella, which trails
along the high-water mark its ropes of
glossy green leaves and its great pink bell-
flowers. Withdrawn into his white, flat,
heavily-keeled shell, a curious Snail, Helix
explanata, was slumbering, in groups, on the
bent grasses.

The dry shifting sands showed here and
there long series of imprints, recalling, on a
smaller scale and under another form, the
tracks of little birds in the snow which used
to arouse a delightful flutter in my youthful
days. What do these imprints mean?

I follow them, a hunter on the trail of a
new species. At the end of each track, by
digging to no great depth, I unearth a mag-
nificent Carabus, whose very name is almost
unknown to me. It is the Giant Scarites (S.
gig as, FAB.).

I make him walk on the sand. He ex-
actly reproduces the tracks which put me on
the alert. It was certainly he who, questing
for game in the night, marked the trail with
his feet. He returned to his lair before day-
light; and now not a single Beetle is to be
seen in the open.

Another characteristic thrusts itself upon
my notice. If I shake him for a moment
and then place him on the ground upon his
362

The Giant Scarites

back, he remains a long time without stirring.
No other insect has yet displayed such per-
sistent immobility, though I confess that my
investigations in this respect have been only
superficial. The detail is so thoroughly en-
graved on my memory that, forty years later,
when I want to experiment on the insects
which are experts in the art of simulating
death, I at once think of the Scarites.

A friend sends me a dozen from Cette,
from the very beach on which I once passed
a delightful morning in the company of this
skilful mimic of the dead. They reach me
in perfect condition, mixed up in the same
package with some Pimeliae (P. bipunctata,
FAB.), their compatriots in the sands beside
the sea. Of these last, a pitiable crew, many
have been disembowelled, absolutely emp-
tied; others have merely stumps instead of
legs; a few, but only a few, are unwounded.

It was what one might have expected of
these Carabidae, lawless hunters one and all.
Tragic events took place in the box during
the journey from Cette to Serignan. The
Scarites gormandized riotously on the peace-
able Pimeliae.

Their tracks, which I followed long ago
on the actual spot, bore evidence to their
nocturnal rounds, apparently in search of
363

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

their prey, the pot-bellied Pimelia, whose sole
defence consists of a strong armour of welded
wing-cases.1 But what can such a cuirass
avail against the bandit's ruthless pincers?

He is indeed a mighty hunter, this Nim-
rod of the sea-shore. All black and glossy,
like a jet bugle, his body is divided by a very
narrow groove at the waist. His weapon
of offence consists of a pair of claw-like
mandibles of extraordinary vigour. None
of our insects equals him in strength of jaw,
if we except the Stag-beetle, who is far bet-
ter armed, or rather decorated, for the ant-
lered mandibles of the inmate of the oak are
ornaments of the male's attire, not a panoply
of battle.

The brutal Carabid, the eviscerator of the
Pimeliae, knows how strong he is. If I tease
him a little on the table, he at once adopts a
posture of defence. Well braced upon his
short legs, especially the fore-legs, which are
toothed like rakes, he dislocates himself in
two, so to speak, thanks to the groove that
divides him behind the corselet; he proudly
raises the fore-part of the body, his wide,
heart-shaped thorax and massive head, open-
ing his threatening pincers to their full extent.
He is now an awesome sight. More : he has

1 The Pimelia is a wingless Beetle. — Translator's Note.
364

The Giant Scarites

the audacity to rush at the finger which has
touched him. Here of a surety is one not
easily intimidated. I look twice before I
handle him.

I lodge my strangers partly under a wire-
gauze cover and partly in glass jars, all sup-
plied with a layer of sand. Each of them with-
out delay digs himself a burrow. The in-
sect bends his head a long way down and,
with the points of his mandibles, brought to-
gether to form a pick-axe, he hews, digs and
excavates with a will. The fore-legs, spread
out and armed with hooks, gather the dust
and rubbish into a load which is thrust
backwards. In this way, a mound rises on
the threshold of the burrow. The dwelling
grows deeper quickly and by a gentle slope
reaches the bottom of the jar.

Checked in the downward direction, the
Scarites now digs against the glass wall and
continues his work horizontally until he has
obtained a length of nearly twelve inches in
all.

This arrangement of the gallery, almost
the whole of which runs just under the glass,
is very useful to me, enabling me to follow
the insect in the privacy of its home. If I
wish to observe its underground operations,
all that I need do is to remove the opaque
365

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

sheath which I have been careful to put over
the jar, in order to spare the creature the
annoyance of the light.

When the house is deemed to be long
enough, the Scarites returns to the entrance,
which he works more carefully than the rest.
He makes a funnel of it, a pit with shifting,
sloping sides. It is the Ant-Lion's crater on
a larger scale and constructed in a more
rustic fashion. This mouth is continued by
an inclined plane, kept free of all rubbish.
At the foot of the slope is the vestibule of the
horizontal gallery. Here, as a rule, the
hunter lurks, motionless, with his pincers
half open. He is waiting.

There is a sound overhead. It is a speci-
men of game which I have just introduced,
a Cicada, a luscious morsel. The drowsy
trapper at once wakes; he moves his palpi,
which quiver with cupidity. Cautiously, step
by step, he climbs his inclined plane. He
takes a glance outside the funnel. The Ci-
cada is seen.

The Scarites darts out of his pit, runs for-
ward, seizes the Cicada and drags her back-
wards. The struggle is brief, thanks to the
trap of the entrance, which yawns like a fun-
nel to receive even a bulky quarry and con-
tracts into a crumbling precipice that para-
366

The Giant Scarites

lyses all resistance. The slope is fatal: who
crosses the brink can no longer escape the
murderer.

Head first, the Cicada dives into the abyss,
down which the spoiler drags her by success-
ive jerks. She is drawn into the low-ceil-
inged tunnel. Here the wings cease to flut-
ter, for lack of space. She reaches the
knacker's cellar, at the end of the corridor.
The Scarites now works at her for some time
with his pincers, in order to reduce her to
complete immobility, fearing lest she should
escape; then he returns to the mouth of the
charnel-house.

It is not everything to possess plenty of
game; the question next arises how to con-
sume it in peace. The door is therefore
closed against importunate callers, that is to
say, the insect fills the entrance to the tunnel
with his mound of rubbish. Having taken
this precaution, he goes back again and sits
down to his meal. He will not reopen his
hiding-place nor remake the pit at the en-
trance until later, when the Cicada has been
digested and hunger makes its reappearance.
Let us leave the glutton with his quarry.

The brief morning which I spent with him
in his native place did not enable me to watch
him at his hunting, on the sands of the beach;
367

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

but the facts gathered in captivity are enough
to tell us all about it. They show us -in the
Scarites a bold hero who is not to be in-
timidated by the biggest or strongest ad-
versary.

We have seen him coming up from under-
ground, falling on the passers-by, seizing
them at some distance from the burrow and
dragging them forcibly into his cut-throat
den. The Rose-chafer, the Common Cock-
chafer are but small deer for him. He dares
to attack the Cicada, he dares to dig his
hooks into the corpulent Pine-chafer. He is
a fearless ruffian, ready for any crime.

Under natural conditions his audacity can
be no less. On the contrary, the familiar
spots, freedom of movement, unlimited space
and his beloved salt air excite the warrior to
yet greater feats of daring.

He has dug himself a refuge in the sand,
with a wide, crumbling mouth. This is not
so that he may, like the Ant-Lion, wait at the
bottom of his funnel for the passing of a vic-
tim which stumbles on the shifting slope and
rolls into the pit. The Scarites disdains
these petty poachers' methods, these fowlers'
snares; he prefers a run across country.

His long trails on the sand tell us of noc-
turnal rounds in search of big game, often
368

The Giant Scarites

the Pimelia, sometimes the Half-spotted
Scarab.1 The find is not consumed on the
spot. To enjoy it at his ease, he needs the
peaceful darkness of the underground manor;
and so the captive, seized by one leg with
the pincers, is forcibly dragged along the
ground.

If no precautions were taken, the intro-
duction of the victim into the burrow would
be impracticable, with a huge quarry offering
a desperate resistance. But the entrance to
the tunnel is a wide crater, with crumbling
walls. However large he be, the captive,
tugged from below, enters and tumbles into
the pit. The crumbling rubbish immediately
buries him and paralyses his movements.
The thing is done. The bandit now pro-
ceeds to close his door and empty his prey's
belly.

1 Cf. The Sacred Beetle and Others; chaps, ii. and vii. —
Translator's Note.

369

CHAPTER XIV

THE SIMULATION OF DEATH

THE first insect that we will put to the
question is that audacious disembowel-
ler, the savage Scarites. To provoke his
state of inertia is a very simple matter: I
handle him for a moment, rolling him be-
tween my fingers; better still, I drop him on
the table, twice or thrice in succession, from
a small height. When the shock due to the
fall has been administered and, if need be, re-
peated, I turn the insect on its back.

This is enough: the prostrate Beetle no
longer stirs, lies as though dead. The legs
are folded on the belly, the antennae ex-
tended like the arms of a cross, the pincers
open. A watch beside me tells me the exact
minute of the beginning and the end of the
experiment. Nothing remains but to wait
and especially to arm one's self with patience,
for the insect's immobility lasts long enough
to become tedious to the observer watching
for something to happen.

The duration of the lifeless posture varies
greatly on the same day, under the same
37o

The Simulation of Death

atmospheric conditions and with the same
subject, though I cannot fathom the causes
which shorten or lengthen it. How to in-
vestigate the external influences, so numerous
and often so slight, which intervene in such
a case; above all, how to scrutinize the in-
sect's private impressions: these are impene-
trable mysteries. Let us confine ourselves to
recording the results.

Immobility continues fairly often for as
long as fifty minutes; in certain cases, even,
it lasts more than an hour. The most fre-
quent length of time averages twenty minutes.
If nothing disturbs the Beetle, if I cover him
with a glass shade, protecting him from the
Flies, who are importunate visitors in the hot
weather prevailing at the time of my experi-
ment, the inertia is complete : not a quiver of
the tarsi, nor of the palpi, nor of the anten-
nae. Here indeed is a simulacrum of death,
with all its inertia.

At last the apparently deceased comes back
to life. The tarsi quiver, those of the fore-
legs first; the palpi and the antennae move
slowly to and fro: this is the prelude to the
awakening. Now the legs begin to kick.
The insect bends slightly at its pinched waist;
it buttresses itself on its head and back; it
turns over. There it goes, jogging away,
371

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

ready to become an apparent corpse once
more if I renew my shock tactics.

Let us repeat the experiment immediately.
The newly resuscitated Beetle is for a second
time lying motionless on his back. He pro-
longs his make-believe of death longer than
he did at first. When he wakes up, I renew
the test a third, a fourth, a fifth time, with
no intervals of repose. The duration of the
motionless condition increases each time.
To quote the figures, the five consecutive ex-
periments, from the first to the last, have
continued respectively for 17, 20, 25, 33 and
50 minutes. Starting with a quarter of an
hour, the attitude of death ends by lasting
nearly a whole hour.

Without being constant, similar facts re-
cur repeatedly in my experiments, the du-
ration, of course, varying. They tell us
that as a general rule the Scarites lengthens
the period of his lifeless posture the oftener
the experiment is repeated. Is this a matter
of practice, or is it an increase of cunning
employed in the hope of finally tiring a too
persistent enemy? It would be premature
to draw conclusions: the cross-examination
of the insect has not yet been thorough
enough.

Let us wait. Besides, we need not
372

The Simulation of Death

imagine that it is possible to go on like this
until our patience is exhausted. Sooner or
later, flurried by my pestering, the Scarites
refuses to sham dead. Scarcely is he laid on
his back after a fall, when he turns over and
takes to his heels, as though he judged a
stratagem which succeeded so indifferently to
be henceforth useless.

If we were to stop here, it would certainly
seem that the insect, a cunning hoaxer, seeks,
as a means of defence, to cheat those who
attack him. He counterfeits death ; he re-
peats the process, becoming more persistent
in his fraud in proportion as the aggression
is repeated; he abandons his trickery when
he deems it futile. But hitherto we have
subjected him only to a friendly examina-
tion-in-chief. The time has come to put a
string of searching questions and to trick the
trickster if there be really any deception.

The Beetle under experiment is lying on
the table. He feels beneath him a hard body
which gives him no chance of digging. As
he cannot hope to take refuge underground,
an easy task for his nimble and vigorous
tools, the Scarites lies low in his death-like
pose, keeping it up, if need be, for an hour.
If he were reclining on the sand, the loose
soil with which he is so familiar, would he

373

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

not regain his activity more rapidly, would
he not at least betray by a few twitches his
desire to escape into the basement?

I was expecting to see him do so; and I
was mistaken. Whether I place him on
wood, glass, sand or garden mould, the
Beetle in no way modifies his tactics. On a
surface readily excavated he continues his
immobility as long as on an unassailable sur-
face.

This indifference to the nature of the sup-
port half opens the door to doubt; what fol-
lows opens it wide. The patient is on the
table before me and I watch him closely.
With his gleaming eyes, overshadowed by
his antennae, he also sees me; he watches me;
he observes me, if I may so express myself.
What can be the visual impression of the in-
sect when face to face with that monstrosity,
man? How does the pigmy measure the
enormous monument that is the human body?
Seen from the depths of the infinitely little,
the immense perhaps is nothing.

We will not go so far as that; we will ad-
mit that the insect watches me, recognizes
me as his persecutor. So long as I am here,
he will suspect me and refuse to budge. If
he does decide to do so, it will be after he
has exhausted my patience. Let us there-

374

The Simulation of Death

fore move away. Then, since any trickery
will be needless, he will hasten to take to his
legs again and make off.

I move ten paces farther from him, to the
other end of the room. I hide, I do not
move a muscle, for fear of breaking the
silence. Will the insect pick itself up?
No, my precautions are superfluous.
Alone, left to itself, perfectly quiet, it re-
mains motionless for as long a time as when
I was standing close beside it.

Perhaps the clear-sighted Scarites has seen
me in my corner, at the other end of the
room; perhaps a subtle scent has revealed
my presence to him. We will do more, then.
I cover him with a bell-glass which will save
him from being worried by the Flies and I
leave the room; I go downstairs into the
garden. There is no longer anything likely
to disturb him. Doors and windows are
closed. Not a sound from without; no cause
for alarm indoors. What will happen in
the midst of that profound silence ?

Nothing more and nothing less than usual.
After twenty, forty minutes' waiting out of
doors, I come upstairs again and return to
my insect. I find him as I left him, lying
motionless on his back.

This experiment, many times repeated with

375

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

different subjects, throws a vivid light upon
the question. It expressly assures us that the
attitude of death is not the ruse of an in-
sect in danger. Here there is nothing to
alarm the creature. Around him all is si-
lence, solitude, repose. When he persists in
his immobility it cannot now be to deceive
an enemy. I have no doubt about it: there
is something else involved.

Besides, why should he need special de-
fensive artifices? I could understand that
a weak, pacific, ill-protected insect might re-
sort to ruses when in danger; but in him, the
warlike bandit, so well armoured, it is more
than I can understand. No insect on his
native sea-shore has the strength to resist
him. The most powerful of them, the
Sacred Beetle and the Pimelia, are easy-go-
ing creatures which, so far from molesting
him, are fine booty for his burrow.

Can he be threatened by the birds? It
is very doubtful. As a Carabus, he is
saturated with acrid humours which must
make his body a far from pleasing mouthful.
For the rest, he lives hidden from the light
of day in a burrow where no one sees him;
he emerges only at night, when the birds are
no longer inspecting the beach. There are
no beaks about for him to fear.
376

The Simulation of Death

And this butcher of the Pimeliae and even
occasionally of the Sacred Beetles, this bully
whom no danger threatens, is supposed to be
such a coward as to sham death on the slight-
est alarm ! I take the liberty of doubting
this more and more.

I am confirmed in my doubts by the
Smooth-skinned Scarites (S. lavigatus,
FAB.), a denizen of the same shores. The
first insect is a giant; the second, by com-
parison, is a dwarf. Otherwise he displays
the same shape, the same jet-black costume,
the same armour, the same habits of bri-
gandage. Well, the Smooth-skinned Scar-
ites, in spite of his weakness and his small-
ness, is almost ignorant of the trick of pre-
tending to be dead. When molested for a
moment and then turned on his back, he at
once picks himself up and flees. I can hardly
obtain a few seconds' immobility; once only,
daunted by my obstinacy, the dwarf remains
motionless for a quarter of an hour.

How different from the giant, motionless
the moment that he is thrown upon his back,
sometimes picking himself up only after an
hour of inaction! It is the reverse of what
ought to happen, if the apparent death were
really a defensive ruse. The giant, confi-
dent in his strength, should disdain this
277

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

cowardly posture ; the timid dwarf should be
quick to have recourse to it. And it is just
the other way about. What is there behind
all this?

Let us try the influence of danger. With
what natural enemy shall I confront the big
Scarites, motionless on his back? I know
none. Let us then create a make-believe as-
sailant. The Flies put me on the track of
one.

I have spoken of their importunity during
my investigations in the hot season. If I
do not employ a bell-glass or keep an assi-
duous watch, rarely does the shrewish Dip-
tcron fail to alight upon my patient and ex-
plore him with her proboscis. We will let
her have her way this time.

Hardly has the Fly grazed this apparent
corpse with her legs, when the Scarites'
tarsi quiver as though twitched by a slight
electric shock. If the visitor be merely pass-
ing, matters go no farther; but, if she per-
sist, particularly near the Beetle's mouth,
moist with saliva and disgorged secretions
of food, the tormented Scarites promptly
kicks, turns over and makes off.

Perhaps he did not think it opportune to
prolong his fraud in the face of so contempti-
ble an enemy. He resumes his activity be-
378

The Simulation of Death

cause he has recognized the absence of
danger. Then let us call in another inter-
loper, one of formidable size and strength.
I happen to have handy a Great Capricorn,
with powerful claws and mandibles. That
the long-horned insect is a peaceful creature
I am well aware; but the Scarites does not
know it; on the sands of the shore he has
never encountered such a colossus as this,
who is capable of impressing less timid
creatures than he. Fear of the unknown will
merely aggravate the situation.

Guided by the tip of my straw, the Capri-
corn sets his foot upon the prostrate insect.
The Scarites' tarsi begin to quiver immedi-
ately. If the contact be prolonged or multi-
plied, or if it become aggressive, the dead
insect gets on its legs again and scuttles off,
just as the titillations of the Fly have al-
ready shown me. When danger is imminent
and all the more to be dreaded because its
nature is unknown, the trick of the simulation
of death disappears and flight takes its
place.

The following experiment is not without
value. I take some hard substance and
knock the foot of the table on which the in-
sect is lying on its back. The shock is very
slight, not enough to shake the table per-

379

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

ceptibly. The whole thing is limited to the
inner vibrations of a resilient body which has
received a blow. But it is quite enough to
disturb the insect's immobility. At each tap
the tarsi are flexed and quiver for a moment.

Lastly, let us try the effect of light. So
far, the patient has been treated in the shade
of my cabinet, away from the direct sun-
light. The sun is shining full upon the
window. What will the motionless insect
do if I carry it thither, from my table to the
window, into the bright light ? That we can
find out in a moment. Under the direct rays
of the sun, the Scarites immediately turns
over and moves off.

This is enough. Patient, persecuted
creature, you have half-betrayed your insect.
When the Fly tickles you, drains your moist
lip, treats you as a corpse whose juices she
would like to suck; when the huge Capricorn
appears to your horrified gaze and puts a
foot on your belly, as though to take possess-
ion of his prey; when the table quivers, that
is to say, when, for you, the ground shakes,
undermined perhaps by some invader of your
burrow; when a bright light surrounds you,
favouring the designs of your enemies and
imperilling your safety as an insect that loves
the dark, then, in truth, it would be wiser
380

The Simulation of Death

not to move, if really your chief resource,
when danger threatens you, is to simulate
death.

On the contrary, at those critical moments,
you give a start; you move, you resume your
normal attitude, you run away. Your fraud
is discovered; or, to put it more plainly,
there is no trick. Your inertia is not simu-
lated; it is real. It is a condition of tempo-
rary torpor into which you are plunged hy
your delicate nervous organization. A
mere nothing makes you fall into it; a mere
nothing withdraws you from it, above all a
bath of light, that sovran stimulus of activity.

In respect of prolonged immobility as the
result of emotion, I find a rival of the Giant
Scarites in a large black Buprestis, with a
flour-speckled corselet, a lover of the black-
thorn, the hawthorn and the apricot-tree.
His name is Capnodis tenebrionis, LIN.
At times I see him, with his legs closely
folded and his antennae lowered, prolonging
his motionless posture upon his back for more
than an hour. At other times the insect is
bent upon escaping, apparently influenced by
atmospheric conditions of which I do not
know the secret. One or two minutes' im-
mobility is as much as I can then obtain.

Let me recapitulate : in my various sub-
381

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

jects the attitude of death is of very variable
duration, governed as it is by a host of un-
suspected circumstances. Let us take ad-
vantage of favourable opportunities, which
are fairly frequent. I subject the Cloudy
Buprestis to the different tests undergone by
the Giant Scarites. The results are the
same. When you have seen the first, you
have seen the second. There is no need to
linger over them.

I will only mention the promptness with
which the Buprestis, lying motionless in the
shade, recovers his activity when I carry him
away from my table into the broad sunlight
of the window. After a few seconds of this
bath of heat and light, the insect half-opens
his wing-cases, using them as levers, and
turns over, ready to take flight if my hand
did not instantly snap him up. He is a
passionate lover of the light, a devotee of the
sun, intoxicating himself in its rays upon the
bark of his blackthorn-trees on the hottest
afternoons.

This love of tropical temperature suggests
the following question: what would happen
if I were to chill the creature in its immobile
posture? I foresee a more prolonged in-
ertia. The chill, of course, must not be
great, for it would be followed by the leth-
382

The Simulation of Death

argy into which insects capable of surviving
the winter fall when benumbed by the cold.

On the contrary, the Buprestis must as
far as possible retain his full vitality. The
lowering of the temperature must be gentle,
very moderate and such that the insect, un-
der similar climatic conditions, would retain
his powers of action in ordinary life. I have
a convenient refrigerator at my disposal. It
is the water of my well, whose temperature,
in summer, is nearly twenty-two degrees
Fahrenheit below that of the surrounding
air.

The Buprestis, in whom I have just pro-
duced inertia by means of a few taps, is in-
stalled on his back in a little flask which I
seal hermetically and immerse in a bucket
full of this cold water. To keep the bath
as cool as at first, I gradually renew it, ta-
king care not to shake the flask in which the
patient is lying, in his attitude of death.

The result rewards my pains. After five
hours under water, the insect is still motion-
less. Five hours, I say, five long hours; and
I might certainly say longer, if my exhausted
patience had not put an end to the experi-
ment. But this is enough to banish any idea
of fraud on the insect's part. Here, beyond
a doubt, the insect is not shamming dead.
383

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

He is actually somnolent, deprived of the
power of movement by an internal distur-
bance which my teasing produced at the out-
set and which is prolonged beyond its usual
limits by the surrounding coolness.

I try the effect of a slight decrease in
temperature upon the Giant Scarites by sub-
jecting him to a similar sojourn in the cold
water of the well. The result does not
respond to the hopes which the Buprestis
gave me. I do not succeed in obtaining
more than fifty minutes' inertia. I have
often obtained as long periods of immobility
without resorting to the refrigerating artifice.

It might have been foreseen. The Bu-
prestis, a lover of the burning sunshine, is
affected by the cold bath in a different degree
from the Scarites, who prowls about by night
and spends his day in the basement. A fall
of a few degrees in temperature takes the
chilly insect by surprise and has no effect upon
the one accustomed to the coolness under-
ground.

Other experiments on these lines tell me
nothing more. I see the inert condition per-
sisting sometimes for a longer, sometimes
for a shorter period, according as the insect
seeks the sunlight or avoids it. Let us
change our method.

384

The Simulation of Death

I evaporate a few drops of sulphuric ether
in a glass jar and put in a Stercoraceous
Geotrupes and a specimen of Buprestis
tenebrtonis, at the same time. In a few
moments both subjects are motionless, anaes-
thetized by the etheric vapour. I take them
out quickly and lay them on their backs in
the open air.

Their attitude is exactly that which they
would have assumed under the influence of a
shock or any other cause of alarm. The
Buprestis has his legs symmetrically folded
against his chest and belly; the Geotrupes has
his outspread, stretched in disorder, rigid
and as though attacked by catalepsy. You
could not tell if they were dead or alive.

They are not dead. In a minute or two,
the Geotrupes' tarsi twitch, the palpi quiver,
the antennae wave gently to and fro. Then
the fore-legs move; and a quarter of an hour
has not elapsed before the other legs are
struggling. The activity of the insect made
motionless by the concussion of a shock would
reawaken in precisely the same fashion.

As for the Buprestis, he is in a state of
inertia so profound that at first I really be-
lieve him to be dead. He recovers during
the night; and next day I find him in possess-
ion of his usual activity. The ether experi-
385

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

ment, which I took care to stop at the moment
when it produced the desired effect, has not
been fatal to him; but it has had much more
serious consequences for him than for the
Geotrupes. The insect more sensitive to the
alarm due to concussion or to a fall of tem-
perature is also the more sensitive to the ac-
tion of ether.

Thus the enormous difference which I ob-
serve in these two insects, with regard to the
inertia provoked by a shock or by handling
them in one's fingers, is explained by nice
differences of impressionability. Whereas
the Buprestis remains motionless for nearly
an hour, the Geotrupes is struggling vio-
lently after a minute or two. And even then
I rarely attain this limit.

In what respect has the Geotrupes, to de-
fend itself, less need of the stratagem of
simulated death than the Black Buprestis,
well protected by his massive build and his
armour, which is so hard that it resists the
point of a pin and even of a needle? We
should be perplexed by the same question in
respect of a multitude of insects, some of
which remain motionless while others do not;
and we could not possibly foresee what
would happen from the genus of the subject,
its form, or its way of living.
386

The Simulation of Death

Buprestis tenebrionis, for example, ex-
hibits a persistent inertia. Will it be the
same, because of similarity of structure, with
other members of the same group? Not at
all. My chance finds provide me with the
Brilliant Buprestis (B. rutilans, FAB.), and
the Nine-spotted Buprestis (Ptosima novem-
maculata, FAB.). The first resists all my
attempts. The splendid creature grips my
fingers, grips my tweezers and insists on get-
ting up the moment that I lay it on its back.
The second readily becomes immobile; but
how brief is its attitude of death! Four
or five minutes at most.

A Melasoma-beetle, Omocrates abbrevi-
ates, OLIV., whom I frequently discover un-
der the broken stones on the neighbouring
hills, continues motionless for over an hour.
He rivals the Scarites. We must not forget
to add that very often the awakening takes
place within a few minutes.

Can he owe his long period of inertia to
the fact that he is one of the Tenebrionidae,
or Darkling Beetles ? By no means, for here
in the same group is Pimelia bipunctuata, who
turns a somersault on his round back and
finds his feet the moment he has turned
over; here is a Cellar-beetle (Blaps similis,
LATR.), who, unable to turn with his flat
387

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

back, his big belly and his welded wing-cases,1
struggles desperately after a minute or two of
inertia.

The short-legged Beetles, trotting along
with tiny steps, ought, one would think, to
make up in cunning, more fully than the
others, for their incapacity for rapid flight.
The facts do not correspond with this ap-
parently well-founded forecast. I have con-
sulted the genera Chrysomela,2 Blatta,3 Sil-
pha, Cleonus,4 Bolboceras,5 Cetonia, Hoplia,
Coccinella,6 and so on. A few minutes or
a few seconds are nearly always long enough
for the return to activity. Several of them
even obstinately refuse to sham death.

As much must be said of the Beetles well-
equipped for pedestrian escape. Some re-
main motionless for a few seconds; others,
more numerous still, behave in an ungovern-
able fashion. In short, there is no guide to
tell us in advance :

" This one will readily assume the posture

1 The Cellar-beetle is one of the wingless Beetles. —
Translator's Note.

2 Golden-apple Beetles. — Translator's Note.

3 Blackbeetles or Cockroaches. — Translator's Note.

4 A genus of Weevils. — Translator's Note.

5 A mushroom-eating Beetle. Cf. The Life of the Fly;
chap, xviii. — Translator's Note.

6 Ladybirds. — Translator's Note.

388

The Simulation of Death

of a dead insect; this one will hesitate; that
one will refuse."

There is nothing but shadowy probabili-
ties, until experiment has given its verdict.
From this muddle shall we draw a conclu-
sion which will set our minds at rest? I
hope so.

389

CHAPTER XV

SUICIDE OR HYPNOSIS?

YOU do not imitate the unfamiliar; you
do not counterfeit a thing of which you
know nothing: that is obvious. The simu-
lation of death, therefore, implies a certain
knowledge of death.

Well, has the insect, or rather, has any
kind of animal, a presentiment that its life
cannot last for ever? Does the perturbing
problem of an end occur to its dense brain?
I have associated a great deal with animals,
I have lived on intimate terms with them
and I have never observed anything to justify
me in saying yes. The animal, with its
humbler destiny, is spared that apprehension
of the hour of death which constitutes at
once our torment and our greatness.

Like the child still in the limbo of uncon-
sciousness, it enjoys the present without ta-
king thought of the future; free from the bit-
terness of a prospective ending, it lives in the
blissful calm of ignorance. It is ours alone
to foresee the briefness of our days; it is ours
390

Suicide or Hypnosis?

alone anxiously to question the grave regard-
ing the last sleep.

Moreover, this glimpse of the inevitable
destruction calls for a certain maturity of
mind and, for that reason, is rather late in
developing. I had a touching example of it
this very week.

A pretty little Kitten, the joy of all the
household, after languidly dragging itself
about for a couple of days, died in the night.
Next morning the children found it lying
stark in its basket. General affliction.
Anna, especially, a little girl of four, con-
sidered with a pensive glance the little friend
with which she had so often played. She
petted it, called it, offered it a drop of milk
in a cup :

" Kitty won't play," said the child. " She
doesn't want my breakfast any more. She's
asleep. I've never seen her sleep like this be-
fore. When will she wake up? "

This simplicity in the presence of death's
harsh problem wrung my heart. Hastily I
led the girl away from the sight and had the
dead Kitten secretly buried. As, from this
time onward, it no longer appeared by the
table at meal-times, the grief-stricken child
at last understood that she had seen her little
friend sleeping the profound slumber that
391

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

knows no awaking. For the first time a
vague idea of death found its way into her
mind.

Has the insect the signal honour of know-
ing what we do not know in our early child-
hood, at a time when thought is already
manifesting itself, far superior, however
feeble it be, to the dull understanding of the
animal? Has it the power to foresee an
ending, an attribute which in its case would
be inconvenient and useless? Before de-
ciding, let us consult, not the abstruse theories
of science, a doubtful guide, but the Turkey,
an eminently truthful one.

I recall one of the most vivid memories
that remain to me from my brief sojourn at
the Royal College of Rodez. So they called
it then ; to-day they call it a grammar-school ;
what improvement as the world grows older !

The thrice-blessed Thursday had come;
our bit of translation was done, our dozen
Greek roots had been learnt by heart; and
we trooped down to the far end of the val-
ley, so many bands of madcaps. With our
trousers turned up to our knees, we exploited,
artless fishermen that we were, the peaceful
waters of the river, the Aveyron. What we
hoped to catch was the Loach, no bigger than
392

Suicide or Hypnosis?

our little finger, but tempting, thanks to his
immobility on the sand amid the water-
weeds. We fully expected to transfix him
with our trident, a fork.

This miraculous catch, the object of such
shouts of triumph when it succeeded, was very
rarely vouchsafed to us: the Loach, the ras-
cal, saw the fork coming and with three
strokes of his tail disappeared !

We found compensation in the apple-trees
in the neighbouring pastures. The apple has
from all time been the urchin's delight, above
all when plucked from a tree which does not
belong to him. Our pockets were soon
crammed with the forbidden fruit.

Another distraction awaited us. Flocks of
Turkeys were not rare, roaming at their own
sweet will and gobbling up the Locusts
around the farms. If no watcher hove in
sight, we had great sport. Each of us would
seize a Turkey, tuck her head under her
wing, rock it in this attitude for a moment
and then place her on the ground, lying on
her side. The bird no longer budged. The
whole flock of Turkeys was subjected to our
hypnotic handling; and the meadow assumed
the aspect of a battle-field strewn with the
dead and dying.

And now look out for the farmer's wife!

393

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

The loud gobbling of the harassed birds had
told her of our wicked pranks. She would
run up armed with a whip. But we had
good legs in those days! And we had a
good laugh too, behind the hedges, which
favoured our retreat!

O delightful days when we put the
Turkeys to sleep, can I recover the skill
which I then possessed? To-day it is no
longer the playful trick of a schoolboy; it is
a matter of serious research. I happen to
have the very subject that I need: a Turkey-
hen, doomed soon to be the victim of our
Christmas merry-making. I repeat with her
the method of manipulation which I em-
ployed so successfully on the banks of the
Aveyron. I tuck her head well under her
wing and, molding it in this attitude with
both hands, I rock the bird gently up and
down for a couple of minutes.

The strange effect is produced; my child-
hood's manoeuvres obtained no better result.
Laid on the ground, on her side and left to
herself, my patient is a lifeless bundle. One
would think her dead, if a slight rise and fall
of the plumage did not reveal the breathing.
She looks really like a dead bird which, in
a last convulsion, had drawn its chilled feet,
with their shrivelled toes, under its belly.

394

Suicide or Hypnosis?

The spectacle has a tragic air; and I feel
overcome by a certain anxiety when I gaze
upon the results of my evil spells. Poor
Turkey! What if she were never to wake
again !

We need not be afraid: she is waking;
she stands up, staggering a little, it is true,
with drooping tail and a shamefaced ex-
pression. That soon passes off; not a trace
of it remains. In a few moments the bird
is once more what it was before the experi-
ment.

This torpor, the mean between true sleep
and death, is of variable duration. When
repeatedly provoked in my Turkey-hen, with
suitable intervals of repose, immobility lasts
sometimes for half an hour and sometimes
for a few minutes. Here, as in the insect,
it would be very difficult to analyse the causes
of these differences. With the Guinea-fowl
I succeed even better. The torpor lasts so
long that I become alarmed by the bird's
condition. The plumage reveals no trace of
breathing. I ask myself, anxiously, whether
the bird is not actually dead. I push it a
little way along the ground with my foot.
The patient does not stir. I do it again.
And lo, the Guinea-fowl frees her head,
stands up, regains her balance and scurries

395

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

off! Her state of lethargy has lasted more
than half an hour.

Now for the Goose. I have none. The
gardener next door trusts me with his. She
is brought to my house, which she fills with
her trumpeting as she waddles about.
Shortly afterwards there is absolute silence:
the web-footed Amazon is lying on the
ground, with her head tucked under her wing.
Her immobility is as profound and as pro-
longed as that of the Turkey and the Guinea-
fowl.

It is the Hen's turn now and the Duck's.
They too succumb, but, so it seems to me, less
persistently. Can it be that my hypnotic
tricks are less efficacious with small birds
than with large ones? To judge by the
Pigeon, this may well be so. He yields to
my art only to the extent of two minutes'
sleep. A still smaller bird, a Greenfinch, is
even more refractory: all that I obtain from
him is a few seconds' drowsiness.

It would appear, then, that, in proportion
as the activity is concentrated in a body of
less volume, the torpor has less hold. The
insect has already shown us this. The Giant
Scarites does not stir for an hour, while the
Smooth-skinned Scarites, a pigmy, wearies
my persistence in turning him over; the large
396

Suicide or Hypnosis?

Cloudy Buprestis submits to my manoeuvres
for a long period, whereas the Glittering
Buprestis, a pigmy again, obstinately refuses
to do so.

We will leave on one side, as insufficiently
investigated, the influence of the bodily mass
and remember only this fact, that it is pos-
sible, by a very simple artifice, to reduce a
bird to a condition of apparent death. Do
my Goose, my Turkey and the others resort
to trickery with the object of deceiving their
tormentor? It is certain that none of them
thinks of shamming dead; they are actually
immersed in a deep torpor; in a word, they
are hypnotized.

These facts have long been known; they
are perhaps the first in date in the science of
hypnosis or artificial sleep. How did we,
the little Rodez schoolboys, learn the secret
of the Turkey's slumber? It was certainly
not in our books. Coming from no one
knows where, indestructible as everything
that enters into children's games, it was
handed down, from time immemorial, from
one initiate to another.

Things are just the same to-day in my vil-
lage of Serignan, where there are numbers
of youthful adepts in the art of putting poul-
try to sleep. Science often has very humble
397

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

beginnings. There is nothing to tell us that
the mischief of a pack of idle urchins is not
the starting-point of our knowledge of hyp-
nosis.

I have just been practising on insects tricks
which to all appearances are as puerile as
those which we practised on the Turkeys in
the days when the farmer's wife used to run
after us cracking her whip. Do not laugh:
a serious problem looms behind this artless-
ness.

My insects' condition bears a strange re-
semblance to that of my poultry. Both pre-
sent the image of death, inertia, the contrac-
tion of convulsed limbs. In both again the
immobility is dispelled before its time by
the agency of a stimulus, by sound in the case
of the bird, by light in that of the insect.
Silence, darkness and tranquillity prolong it.
Its duration varies greatly in different spe-
cies and appears to increase with corpulence.

Among ourselves, who are very unequal
subjects for induced sleep, the hypnotist is
obliged to pick and choose. He succeeds
with one and not with another. Similarly,
among the insects, a selection is necessary,
for they do not all of them, by a long way,
respond to the experimenter's attempts. My
best subjects have been the Giant Scarites and
398

Suicide or Hypnosis?

the Cloudy Buprestis; but how many others
have resisted quite indomitably, or remained
motionless for only a few seconds!

The insect's return to the active state pre-
sents certain peculiarities which are well
worthy of attention. The key to the pro-
blem lies here. Let us return for a moment
to the patients who have been subjected to
the ordeal of ether. These are really hyp-
notized. They do not remain motionless by
way of a ruse, there is no doubt upon that
point; they are actually on the threshold of
death; and, if I did not take them in good
time out of the flask in which a few drops
of ether have been evaporated, they would
never recover from the torpor whose last
stage is death.

Now what symptoms herald their return
to activity? We know the symptoms: the
tarsi tremble, the palpi quiver, the antennae
wave to and fro. A man emerging from a
deep sleep stretches his limbs, yawns and rubs
his eyes. The insect awaking from the
etheric sleep likewise has its own fashion of
marking its recovery of consciousness : it flut-
ters its tiny digits and the more mobile of
its organs.

Let us now consider an insect which, up-
set by a shock, perturbed by some sort of

399

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

excitement, is believed to be shamming dead,
lying on its back. The return to activity is
announced exactly in the same fashion and
in the same order as after the stupefying ef-
fect of ether. First the tarsi quiver; then
the palpi and antennae wave feebly to and fro.

If the creature were really shamming,
what need would it have of these minute pre-
liminaries to the awakening? Once the dan-
ger has disappeared, or is deemed to have
done so, why does the insect not swiftly get
upon its feet, to make off as quickly as pos-
sible, instead of dallying with untimely pre-
tences? I am quite sure that, once the Bear
was gone, the comrade who had shammed
dead under the animal's nose did not think
of wasting time in stretching himself or rub-
bing' his eyes. He jumped up at once and
took to his heels.

And the insect is supposed to carry its cun-
ning to the length of counterfeiting resusci-
tation down to the least details ! No, no and
again no; it would be madness. Those qui-
verings of the tarsi, those awakening move-
ments of the palpi and antennae are the ob-
vious proof of a genuine torpor, now coming
to an end, a torpor similar to that induced by
ether but less intense; they show that the
insect struck motionless by my artifice is not
400

Suicide or Hypnosis?

shamming dead, as the vulgar idiom has it
and as the fashionable theories repeat. It
is really hypnotized.

A shock which disturbs its nerve-centres,
an abrupt fright which seizes upon it reduce
it to a state of somnolence like that of the
bird which is swung for a second or two with
its head under its wing. A sudden terror
sometimes deprives us human beings of the
power of movement, sometimes kills us.
Why should not the insect's organism, so
delicate and subtle, give way beneath the
grip of fear and momentarily succumb? If
the emotion be slight, the insect shrinks into
itself for an instant, quickly recovers and
makes off; if it be profound, hypnosis super-
venes, with its prolonged immobility.

The insect, which knows nothing of death
and therefore cannot counterfeit it, knows
nothing either of suicide, that desperate
means of cutting short excessive misery. No
authentic example has ever been given, to
my knowledge, of an animal of any kind rob-
bing itself of its own life. That those most
richly endowed with the capacity of affection
sometimes allow themselves to die of grief
I grant you; but there is a great difference
between this and stabbing one's self or cut-
ting one's throat.

401

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

Yet the recollection occurs to me of the
Scorpion's suicide, sworn to by some, denied
by others. What truth is there in the story
of the Scorpion who, surrounded by a circle
of fire, puts an end to his suffering by stab-
bing himself with his poisoned sting? Let
us see for ourselves :

Circumstances favour me. I am at this
moment rearing, in large earthen pans, with
a bed of sand and with potsherds for shel-
ter, a hideous menagerie which hardly comes
up to my expectations as regards the study
of morals.1 I will profit by it in another
way. It consists of some twenty-four speci-
mens of Buthus occitanus, the large White
Scorpion of the south of France. The
odious animal abounds, always isolated, un-
der the flat stones of the neighbouring hills,
in the sandy spots which enjoy the most sun-
light. It has a detestable reputation.

On the effects of its sting I personally have
nothing to say, having always avoided, by a
little caution, the danger to which my rela-
tions with the formidable captives in my
study might have exposed me. Knowing
nothing of it myself, I get people to tell me

1 For the habits of the White or Languedocian Scorp-
ion, cf. The Life and Love of the Insect: chaps, xvii. and
xviii. — Translator's Note.

4p2

Suicide or Hypnosis?

of it, wood-cutters in particular, who from
time to time fall victims to their imprudence.
One of them tells me the following story:

" After having my dinner, I was dozing
for a moment among my faggots, when I
was roused by a sharp pain. It was like the
prick of a red-hot needle. I clapped my
hand to the place. Sure enough, there was
something moving! A Scorpion had crept
under my trousers and stung me in the lower
part of the calf. The ugly beast was full
as long as my finger. Like that, sir, like
that!"

And, adding gesture to speech, the worthy
man extended his great fore-finger. This
size did not surprise me : while insect-hunting,
I have seen Scorpions as large.

" I wanted to go on with my work," he
continued, " but I came out in a cold sweat;
and my leg swelled up so you could see it
swelling. It got as big as that, sir, as big
as that."

More mimicry. Our friend spreads his
two hands round his leg, at a distance, so as
to denote the girth of a small barrel:

" Yes, like that, sir, like that; I had great
trouble to get home, though it was only half
a mile away. The swelling crept up and up.
Next day it had got so high."
403

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

A gesture indicates the height.

" Yes, sir, for three days I couldn't stand
up. I bore it as well as I could, with my leg
stretched out on a chair. Soda-compresses
did the trick; and there you are, sir, there
you are."

Another woodcutter, he adds, was also
stung in the lower part of the leg. He was
binding faggots together at some distance
and had not the strength to regain his home.
He collapsed by the side of the road. Some
men passing by carried him on their shoul-
ders:

" A la cabro morto, moussu, a la cabro
morto! "

The story of the rustic narrator, more
versed in mimicry than in speech, does not
seem to me exaggerated. A White Scor-
pion's sting is a very serious accident for
a human being. When stung by his own
kind, the Scorpion himself quickly succumbs.
Here I have something better than the evi-
dence of strangers: I have my own observa-
tions.

I take two healthy specimens from my
menagerie and place them together at the
bottom of a glass jar on a layer of sand.
Excited with the tip of a straw which brings
them face to face again whenever they draw

4<H

Suicide or Hypnosis?

back, the two harassed creatures decide On
mortal combat. Each no doubt attributes
to the other the annoyances of which I
myself am the cause. The claws, those
weapons of defence, are displayed in a semi-
circle and open to keep the adversary at a
distance; the tails, in sudden jerks, are flung
forward above the back; the poison-phials
clash together; a tiny drop, limpid as water,
beads the point of the sting.

The fight does not last long. One of the
Scorpions receives the full force of the other's
poisoned weapon. It is all over: in a few
minutes the wounded one succumbs. The
victor very calmly proceeds to gnaw the fore-
part of the victim's cephalothorax, or, in
less crabbed terms, the bit at which we look
for a head and find only the entrance to a
belly. The mouthfuls are small, but long-
drawn-out. For four or five days, almost
without a break, the cannibal nibbles at his
murdered comrade. To eat the vanquished,
that's good warfare, the only sort excusable.
What I do not understand, nor shall until we
tin the meat on the battle-field for food, is
our wars between nations.

We now have authentic information: the
Scorpion's sting is fatal, promptly fatal, to the
Scorpion himself. Let us come to the mat-
40s

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

ter of suicide, such as it has been described
to us. When surrounded by a circle of live
embers, the animal, so we are told, stabs
itself with its sting and finds an end of its
torment in voluntary death. This would be
very fine on the creature's part if it were
true. We shall see.

In the centre of a ring of burning charcoal,
I place the largest specimen from my
menagerie. The bellows increase the glow.
At the first smart of the heat, the animal
moves backwards within the circle of fire.
It collides by inadvertence with the burning
barrier. Now follows a disorderly retreat,
in every direction, at random, renewing the
agonizing contact. At each attempt to es-
cape, the burning is repeated more severely
than before. The animal becomes frantic.
It darts forward and scorches itself. In a
desperate frenzy, it brandishes its weapon,
crooks it, straightens it, lays it down flat and
raises it again, all with such disorderly haste
that I am quite unable to follow its move-
ments accurately.

The moment ought to have come for the
Scorpion to release himself from his torture
with a blow of the stiletto. And indeed, with
a sudden spasm, the long-suffering creature
becomes motionless, lies at full-length, flat
406

Suicide or Hypnosis?

upon the ground. There is not a movement;
the inertia is complete. Is the Scorpion
dead? It really looks like it. Perhaps he
has pinked himself with a thrust of his sting
that escaped me in the turmoil of the last
efforts. If he has actually stabbed himself,
if he has resorted to suicide, then he is dead
beyond a doubt: we have just seen how
quickly he succumbs to his own venom.

In my uncertainty, I pick up the apparently
dead body with the tip of my forceps and lay
it on a bed of cool sand. An hour later, the
alleged corpse returns to life, as lusty as
before the ordeal. I repeat the process with
a second and third specimen. The results
are the same. After the frantic plunges of
the desperate victim, we have the same sud-
den inertia, with the creature sprawling flat
as though struck by lightning, and the same
return to life on the cool sand.

It seems probable that those who invented
the story of the Scorpion committing suicide
were deceived by this sudden swoon, this
paralysing spasm, into which the high tem-
perature of the enclosure throws the exas-
perated beast. Too quickly convinced, they
left the victim to burn to death. Had they
been less credulous and withdrawn the ani-
mal in good time from its circle of fire, they
407

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

would have seen the apparently dead Scor-
pion return to life and thus assert its pro-
found ignorance of suicide.

Apart from man, no living thing knows
the last resource of a voluntary end, because
none has a knowledge of death. As for us,
to feel that we have the power to escape from
the miseries of life is a noble prerogative,
upon which it is good to meditate, as a sign
of our elevation above the commonalty of
the animal world; but in point of fact it be-
comes cowardice if from the possibility we
pass to action.

He who proposes to go to that length
should at least repeat to himself what Con-
fucius, the great philosopher of the yellow
race, said five-and-twenty centuries ago.
Having surprised a stranger in the woods
fixing to the branch of a tree a rope where-
with to hang himself, the Chinese sage ad-
dressed him in words the gist of which was
as follows :

" However great your misfortunes, the
greatest of all would be to yield to despair.
All the rest can be repaired; this one is irre-
parable. Do not believe that all is lost for
you and try to convince yourself of a truth
which has been proved indisputable by the
experience of the centuries. And that truth
408

Suicide or Hypnosis?

is this: so long as a man has life, there is no
need for him to despair. He may pass from
the greatest misery to the greatest joy, from
the greatest misfortune to the highest fe-
licity. Take courage and, as though you
were this very day beginning to recognize the
value of life, strive at every moment to make
the most of it."

This humdrum Chinese philosophy is not
without merit. It suggests the moralizing
of the fabulist:

1 ". . . Qu'on me rende impotent,
Cul-de-jatte, goutteux, manchot, pourvu

qu'en somme
Je vive, c'est assez: )e suis plus que content.

Yes, yes, La Fontaine and Kung the phi-
losopher are right: life is a serious matter,
which it will not do to throw away into the
first bush by the roadside like a useless gar-
ment. We must look upon it not as a
pleasure, nor yet as a punishment, but as a
duty of which we have to acquit ourselves as
well as we can until we are given leave to
depart.

To anticipate this leave is cowardly and

1 ". . . So powerless let me lie,

Gout-ridden, legless, armless ; if only, after all,
I live, it is enough: more than content am I."
409

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

foolish. The power to disappear at will
through death's trap-door does not justify us
in deserting our post; but it opens to us cer-
tain vistas which are absolutely unknown to
the animal.

We alone know how life's pageant closes,
we alone can foresee our end, we alone pro-
fess devotion to the dead. Of these high
matters none other has any suspicion.
When would-be scientists proclaim aloud,
when they declare that a wretched insect
knows the trick of simulating death, we will
ask them to look more closely and not to
confound the hypnosis due to terror with the
pretence of a condition unknown to the ani-
mal world.

Ours alone is the clear vision of an end,
ours alone the glorious instinct of the be-
yond. Here, filling its modest part, speaks
the voice of entomology, saying:

" Have confidence ; never did an instinct
fail to keep its promises."

410

CHAPTER XVI

THE CRIOCERES

AM a stubborn disciple of St. Thomas
*■• the Apostle and, before I agree to any-
thing, I want to see and touch it, not once,
but twice, thrice, an indefinite number of
times, until my incredulity bows beneath the
weight of evidence. Well, the Rhynchites 1
have told us that the build does not deter-
mine the instincts, that the tools do not de-
cide the trade. And now, yes, the Crioceres
come and add their testimony. I question
three of them, all common, too common, in
my paddock. At the proper season, I have
them before my eyes, without searching for
them, whenever I want to ask them for in-
formation.

The first is the Crioceris of the Lily, or
Lily-beetle. Since Latin words offend our
modesty let us just once mention her scientific
name, Crioceris merdigera, LIN., without
translating it, or, above all, repeating it.

1 A genus of Weevils, the essays upon whom will ap-
pear in a later volume to be entitled The Life of the
W*4<vkL — Translator's Note.

, will

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

Decency forbids. I have never been able
to understand why natural history need in-
flict upon a lovely flower or an engaging ani-
mal an odious name.

As a matter of fact, our Crioceris, so ill-
treated by the nomenclators, is a sumptuous
creature. She is nicely shaped, neither too
large nor too small, and a beautiful coral
red, with jet-black head and legs. Every-
body knows her who in the spring has ever
glanced at the lily, when its stem is beginning
to show in the centre of the rosette of leaves.
A Beetle, of less than the average size and
coloured sealing-wax red, is perched up on
the plant. Your hand goes out to seize her.
Forthwith, paralysed with fright, she drops
to the ground.

Let us wait a few days and return to the
lily, which is gradually growing taller and
beginning to show its buds, gathered together
in a bundle. The red insect is still there.
Further, the leaves, which are seriously bit-
ten into, are reduced to tatters and soiled
with little heaps of greenish ordure. It
looks as if some witchcraft had mashed up
the leaves and then splashed the mess all
over the place.

Well, this filth moves, travels slowly along.
Let us overcome our repugnance and poke
412

The Crioceres

the heaps with a straw. We uncover, indeed
we unclothe an ugly, pot-bellied, pale-orange
larva. It is the grub of the Crioceris.

The origin of the garment of which we
have just stripped it would be unmentionable,
save in the world of the insect, that manu-
facturer devoid of shame. This doublet is,
in fact, obtained from the creature's excre-
tions. Instead of evacuating downwards, on
the superannuated principle, the Crioceris'
larva evacuates upwards and receives upon
its back the waste products of the intestine,
materials which move from back to front as
each fresh pat is dabbed upon the others.
Reaumur has complacently described how the
quilt moves forward from the tail to the
head by wriggling along inclined planes,
making so many dips in the undulating back.
There is no need to return to this stercoral
mechanism after the master has done with it.

We now know the reasons that procured
the Lily-beetle an ignominious title, confined
to the official records: the grub makes itself
an overcoat of its excrements.

Once the garment is completed so as to
cover the whole of the creature's dorsal sur-
face, the clothing-factory does not cease work
on that score. At the back a fresh hem is
added from moment to moment; but the
413

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

overlapping superfluity in front drops off of
its own weight at the same time. The coat
of dung is under continual repair, being reno-
vated and lengthened at one end as it wears
and grows shorter at the other.

Sometimes also the stuff is too thick and
the heap capsizes. The denuded grub recks
nothing of the lost overcoat; its obliging in-
testine repairs the disaster without delay.

Whether by reason of the clipping that
results from the excessive length of a piece
which is always on the loom, or of accidents
that cause a part or the whole of the load to
fall off, the grub of the Crioceris leaves
accumulations of dirt in its track, till the
lily, the symbol of purity, becomes a very
cess-pool. When the leaves have been
browsed, the stem next loses its cuticle,
thanks to the nibbling of the grub, and is re-
duced to a ragged distaff. The flowers even,
which have opened by now, are not spared:
their beautiful ivory chalices are changed
into latrines.

The perpetrator of the misdeed embarks
on his career of defilement early. I wanted
to see him start, to watch him lay the first
course of his excremental masonry. Does
he serve an apprenticeship? Does he work
badly at first, then a little better and then
414

The Crioceres

well? I now know all about it: there is no
noviciate, there are no clumsy attempts; the
workmanship is perfect from the outset, the
product ejected spreads over the hinder part.
Let me tell you what I saw.

The eggs are laid in May, on the under
surface of the leaves, in short trails avera-
ging from three to six. They are cylindrical,
rounded at both ends, of a bright orange-
red, glossy and varnished with a glutinous
wash which makes them stick to the leaves
throughout their length. The hatching
takes ten days. The shell of the egg, now a
little wrinkled, but still of a bright orange
colour, retains its position, so that the group
of eggs, apart from its slightly withered ap-
pearance, remains just as it was.

The young larva measures a millimetre
and a half ' in length. The head and legs
are black, the rest of the body a dull amber-
red. On the first segment of the thorax is
a brown sash, interrupted in the middle;
lastly, there is a small black speck on each
side, behind the third segment. This is the
initial costume. Presently orange-red will
take the place of the pale amber. The tiny
creature, which is exceedingly fat, sticks to
the leaf with its short legs and also with its

* .959 inch. — Translator's Note,
415

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

hind-quarters, which act as a lever and push
the round belly forwards. The motion re-
minds you of a cripple sitting in a bowl.

The grubs emerging from any one group of
eggs at once begin to browse, each beside the
empty skin of its egg. Here, singly, they
nibble and dig themselves a little pit in the
thickness of the leaf, while sparing the cuticle
of the opposite surface. This leaves a trans-
lucent floor, a support which enables them to
consume the walls of the excavation without
risking a fall.

Seeking for better pasture, they move
lazily on. I see them scattered at random;
a few of them are grouped in the same
trench; but I never see them browsing eco-
nomically abreast as Reaumur relates.
There is no order, no understanding between
messmates, contemporaries though they be
and all sprung from the same row of eggs.
Nor is any heed paid to economy: the lily is
so generous !

Meanwhile, the paunch swells and the in-
testine labours. Here we are ! I see the
first bit of the overcoat evacuated. As is
natural in extreme infancy, it is liquid and
there is not much of it. The scanty flow is
used all the same and is laid methodically,
right at the far end of the back. Let the
416

The Crioceres

little grub be. In less than a day, piece by
piece, it will have made itself a suit.

The artist is a master from the first at-
tempt. If its baby-flannel is so good to start
with, what will the future ulster be, when
the stuff, brought to perfection, is of much
better quality? Let us proceed; we know
what we want to know concerning the talents
of this manufacturer of excremental broad-
cloth.

What is the purpose of this nasty great-
coat? Does the grub employ it to keep it-
self cool, to protect itself against the attacks
of the sun ? It is possible : a tender skin need
not be afraid of blistering under such a sooth-
ing poultice. Is it the grub's object to dis-
gust its enemies? This again is possible:
who would venture to set tooth to such a heap
of filth? Or can it be simply a caprice of
fashion, an outlandish fancy? I will not
say no. We have had the crinoline, that
senseless bulwark of steel hoops ; we still have
the extravagant stove-pipe hat, which tries
to mould our heads in its stiff sheath. Let
us be indulgent to the evacuator nor dis-
parage his eccentric wardrobe. We have
eccentricities of our own.

To feel our way a little in this delicate
question, we will question the near kinsmen
417

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

of the Lily-beetle. In my acre or two of peb-
bles I have planted a bed of asparagus.
The crop, from the culinary point of view,
will never repay me for my trouble : I am
rewarded in another fashion. On the scanty
shoots which I allow to display themselves
freely in plumes of delicate green, two Crio-
ceres abound in the spring: the field species
(C. campestris, LIN.) and the twelve-spot-
ted species (C. duodecimpunctata, LIN.).
A splendid windfall, far better than any bun-
dle of asparagus.

The first has a tricolor costume which is
not without merit. Blue wing-cases, braided
with white on the outer edge and each
adorned with three white dots; a red corselet,
with a blue disk in the centre. Its eggs are
olive-green and cylindrical and, instead of
lying flat, grouped in short lines, after the
manner of the lily-dweller's, occur singly and
stand on end on the leaves of the asparagus-
plant, on the twigs, on the flower-buds, more
or less everywhere, without any fixed or-
der.

Though living in the open air on the leaves
of its plant and thus exposed to all the va-
rious perils that may threaten the Lily-grub,
the larva of the Field Crioceris knows no-
thing whatever of the art of sheltering itself
418

The Crioceres

beneath a layer of ordure. It goes through
life naked and always perfectly clean.

It is of a bright greenish yellow, fairly fat
behind and thinner in front. Its principal
organ of locomotion is the end of the in-
testine, which protrudes, curves like a flexi-
ble finger, clasps the twig and supports the
creature while pushing it forward. The true
legs, which are short and placed too far in
front with regard to the length of the body,
would find it very difficult by themselves to
drag the heavy mass that comes after.
Their assistant, the anal finger, is remark-
ably strong. With no support, the larva
turns over, head downwards, and remains
suspended when shifting from one sprig to
another. This Jack-in-the-bowl is a rope-
dancer, a consummate acrobat, performing
its evolutions amid the slender sprigs with-
out fear of a fall.

Its attitude in repose is curious. The
heavy stern rests on the two hind-legs and
especially on the crooked finger, the end of
the intestine. The fore-part is lifted in a
graceful curve, the little black head is raised
and the creature looks rather like the
crouching Sphinx of antiquity. This pose is
common at times of slumber and blissful di-
gestion in the sun.

419

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

An easy prey is this naked, plump, de-
fenceless grub, snoozing in the heat of a
blazing day. Various Gnats, of humble
size, but very likely terribly treacherous,
haunt the foliage of the asparagus. The
larva of the Crioceris, motionless in its
sphinx-like attitude, does not appear to be
on its guard against them, even when they
come buzzing above its rump. Can they be
as harmless as their peaceful frolics seem to
proclaim? It is extremely doubtful: the Fly
rabble are not there merely to imbibe the
scanty exudations of the plant. Experts in
mischief, they have no doubt hastened hither
with another object.

And, in truth, on the greater number of
the Crioceris-larvae we find, adhering firmly
to the skin, certain white specks, very small
and of a china-white. Can these be the sow-
ing of a bandit, the spawn of a Midge?

I collect the grubs marked with these
white specks and rear them in captivity. A
month later, about the middle of June, they
shrivel, wrinkle and turn brown. All that
is left of them is a dry skin which tears from
end to end, half uncovering a Fly-pupa. A
few days later, the parasite emerges.

It is a small, greyish Fly, fiercely bristling
with sparse hairs, half the size of the House-
4ao

The Crioceres

fly, whom it resembles slightly. It belongs
to the Tachina group, who, in their larval
form, so often inhabit the bodies of cater-
pillars.

The white spots sprinkled over the larva
of the Crioceris were the eggs of the hateful
Fly. The vermin born of those eggs have
perforated the victim's paunch. By subtle
wounds, which cause little pain and are al-
most immediately healed, they have pene-
trated the body, reaching the humours in
which the entrails are bathed. At first the
larva invaded is not aware of its danger; it
continues to perform its rope-dancer's gym-
nastics, to fill its belly and to take its siestas
in the sun, as though nothing serious had
occurred.

Reared in a glass tube and often examined
under the lens, my parasite-ridden larvae be-
tray no uneasiness. The fact is that the
Tachina's children display an infernal judg-
ment in their first actions. Until the mo-
ment when they are ready for the trans-
formation, their portion of game has to hold
out, must be kept fresh and alive. They
therefore gorge themselves with the reserves
intended for future use, the fats, the savings
which the Crioceris hoards in view of the
remodelling whence the perfect insect will

421

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

emerge; they consume what is not essential
to the life of the moment and are very care-
ful not to touch the organs which are indis-
pensable at the present time. If these re-
ceived a bite, the host would die and so would
they. Towards the end of their growth,
prudence and discretion being no longer es-
sential, they make a complete clearance of the
victim, leaving only the skin, which will serve
them for a shelter.

One satisfaction is vouchsafed me in these
horrible orgies: I see that the Tachina in her
turn is subjected to severe reductions. How
many were there on the larva's back? Per-
haps eight, ten or more. One Midge, never
more than one, comes out of the victim's
skin, for the morsel is too small to provide
food for many. What has become of the
others? Has there been an internecine bat-
tle inside the poor wretch's body? Have
they eaten one another up, leaving only the
strongest to survive, or the one most fa-
voured by the chances of the fight? Or has
one of them, earlier developed than the rest,
found himself master of the stronghold and
have the others preferred to die outside
rather than enter a grub already occupied,
where famine would be rife if the messmates
numbered even two? I am all for mutual
422

The Crioceres

extermination. Kinsman's flesh or stranger's
flesh must be all one to the fangs of the ver-
min swarming in the Crioceris' belly.

Fierce though the competition is among
these bandits, the Beetle's race does not
threaten to die out. I review the innumer-
able troop on my asparagus-bed. A good
half of them have Tachina-eggs plainly visi-
ble as tiny white specks on their green skins.
The blemished larvae tell me of a paunch
already or on the point of being invaded.
On the other hand, it is doubtful whether
those which are unscathed will all remain in
that condition. The malefactor is inces-
santly prowling around the green plumes,
watching for a favourable opportunity.
Many larvae free from white spots to-day
will show them to-morrow or some other day,
so long as the Fly's season lasts.

I estimate that the vast majority of the
troop will end by being infested. My rear-
ing-experiments tell me much on this point.
If I do not make a careful selection when
I am stocking my wire-gauze-covers, if I go
to work at random in picking the branches
colonized with larvae, I obtain very few
adult Crioceres; nearly all of them are re-
solved into a cloud of Midges.

If it were possible for us to wage war ef-
423

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

fectually upon an insect, I should advise as-
paragus-growers to have recourse to the
Tachina, though I should cherish no illusions
touching the results of the expedient. The
exclusive tastes of the insect auxiliary draw
us into a vicious circle : the remedy allays the
evil, but the evil is inseparable from the re-
medy. To rid ourselves of the ravages of the
asparagus-beds, we should need a great many
Tachinae; and to obtain a great many Ta-
chinae we should first of all need a great many
ravagers. Nature's equilibrium balances
things as a whole. Whenever Crioceres
abound, the Midges that reduce them arrive
in numbers; when Crioceres become rare, the
Midges decrease, but are always ready to
return in masses and repress a surplus of the
others during a return of prosperity.

Under its thick mantle of ordure the grub
of the Lily-beetle escapes the troubles so fa-
tal to its cousin of the asparagus. Strip it
of its overcoat: you will never find the ter-
rible white specks upon its skin. The me-
thod of preservation is most effective.

Would it not be possible to find a defensive
system of equal value without resorting to
detestable filth? Yes, of course: the insect

need only house itself under a covering

424

The Crioceres

where there would be nothing to fear from
the Fly's eggs. This is what the Twelve-
spotted Crioceris does, occupying the same
quarters as the Field Crioceris, from whom
she differs in size, being rather larger, and
still more in her costume, which is rusty red
all over, with twelve black spots distributed
symmetrically on the wing-cases.

Her eggs, which are a deep olive-green
and cylindrical, pointed at one pole and
squared off at the other, closely resemble
those of the Field Crioceris and, like these,
usually stand up on the supporting surface,
to which they are fastened by the square end.
It would be easy to confuse the two if we
had not the position which they occupy to
guide us. The Field Crioceris fastens her
eggs to the leaves and the thin sprays; the
other plants them exclusively on the still
green fruit of the asparagus, globules the
size of a pea.

The grubs have to open a tiny passage
for themselves and to make their own way
into the fruit, of which they eat the pulp.
Each globule harbours one larva, no more,
or the ration would be insufficient. Often,
however, I see two, three or four eggs on
the same fruit. The first grub hatched is
425

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

the one favoured by luck. He becomes the
owner of the pill, an intolerant owner ca-
pable of wringing the neck of any who should
come and sit down at table beside him. Al-
ways and everywhere this pitiless competi-
tion!

The grub of the Twelve-spotted Crioceris
is a dull white, with an interrupted black scarf
on the first segment of the thorax. This
sedentary creature has none of the talents of
the acrobat grazing on the swaying foliage
of the asparagus; it cannot take a grip with
its posterior, turned into a prehensile finger.
What use would it have for such a preroga-
tive, loving repose as it does and destined to
put on fat in its cell, without roaming in
quest of food? In the same group each
species has its own gifts, according to the
kind of life that awaits it.

It is not long before the occupied fruit
falls to the ground. Day by day, it loses its
green colour as the pulp is consumed. It
becomes, at last, a pretty, diaphanous opal
sphere, while the berries which have not been
injured ripen on the plant and acquire a rich
scarlet hue.

When there is nothing left to eat inside
the skin of its pill, the grub makes a hole
in it and goes underground. The Tachinae
426

The Crioceres

have spared it. Its opal box, the hard rind
of the berry, has ensured its safety just as
well as a filthy overcoat would have done and
perhaps even better.

427

CHAPTER XVII

the crioceres (continued)

* I ""HE Crioceris has found safety inside its
* opal globe. Safety? Ah, but what
an unfortunate expression I have used! Is
there any one in the world who can flatter
himself that he has escaped the spoiler?

In the middle of July, at the time when
the Twelve-spotted Crioceris comes up from
under the ground in the adult form, my rear-
ing-jars yield me swarms of a very small Gall-
fly, a slender, graceful, blue-black Chalcid,
without any visible boring-tool. Has the
puny creature a name? Have the nomen-
clators catalogued it? I do not know, nor
do I much care; the main thing is to learn
that the covering of the asparagus-berry,
which becomes an opal globe when the grub
has emptied it, has failed to save the recluse.
The Tachina-midge drains her victim by her-
self; this other, tinier creature feasts in com-
pany. Twenty or more of them batten on
the grub together.

When everything seems to foretell a quiet
428

The Crioceres

life, a pigmy among pigmies appears, charged
with the express duty of exterminating an
insect which is protected first by the casket
of the berry and next by the shell, the under-
ground work of the grub. To eat the
Twelve-spotted Crioceris is its mission in life,
its special function. When and how does it
deliver its attack? I do not know.

At any rate, proud of her vocation and
finding life sweet, the Chalcid curls her an-
tennae into a crook and waves them to and
fro: she rubs her tarsi together, a sign of
satisfaction; she dusts her belly. I can
hardly see her with the naked eye; and yet
she is an agent of the universal extermina-
tion, a wheel in the implacable machine
which crushes life as in a wine-press.

The tyranny of the belly turns the world
into a robber's cave. Eating means killing.
Distilled in the alembic of the stomach, the
life destroyed by slaughter becomes so much
fresh life. Everything is melted down
again, everything has a fresh beginning in
death's insatiable furnace.

Man, from the alimentary point of view,
is the chief brigand, consuming everything
that lives or might live. Here is a mouth-
ful of bread, the sacred food. It represents
a certain number of grains of wheat which
429

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

asked only to sprout, to turn green in the
sun, to shoot up into tall stalks crowned with
ears. They died that we might live. Here
are some eggs. Left undisturbed with the
Hen, they would have emitted the Chickens'
gentle cheep. They died that we might live.
Here is beef, mutton, poultry. Horror, it
smells of blood, it is eloquent of murder!
If we gave it a thought, we should not dare
to sit down to table, that altar of cruel sacri-
fices.

How many lives does the Swallow, to men-
tion only the most peaceable, harvest in the
course of a single day! From morning to
evening he gulps down Crane-flies, Gnats and
Midges joyously dancing in the sunbeams.
Quick as lightning he passes; and the dan-
cers are decimated. They perish; then
their melancholy remnants fall from the nest
containing the young brood, in the form of
guano which becomes the turf's inheritance.
And so it is with all and everything, with
large and small, from end to end of the
animal progression. A perpetual massacre
perpetuates the flux of life.

Appalled by these butcheries, the thinker

begins to dream of a state of affairs which

would free us from the horrors of the maw.

This ideal of innocence, as our poor nature

430

The Crioceres

vaguely sees it, is not an impossibility; it is
partly realized for all of us, men and ani-
mals.

Breathing is the most imperious of needs.
We live by the air before we live by bread;
and this happens of itself, without painful
struggles, without costly labour, almost with-
out our knowledge. We do not set out,
armed for war, to conquer the air by rapine,
violence, cunning, barter and desperate la-
bour; the supreme element of life enters our
bodies of its own accord; it penetrates us
and quickens us. Each of us has his gener-
ous share of it without giving the matter a
thought.

To crown perfection, it is free. And this
will last indefinitely until an ever ingenious
Treasury invents distributing-taps and pneu-
matic receivers from which the air will be
doled out to us at so much a piston-stroke.
Let us hope that we shall be spared this par-
ticular item of scientific progress, for that,
woe betide us, would be the end of all things :
the tax would kill the tax-payer !

Chemistry, in its lighter moods, promises
us, in the future, pills containing the concen-
trated essence of food. These cunning com-
pounds, the product of our laboratories,
would not end our longing to possess a stom-
431

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

ach no more burdensome than our lungs and
to feed even as we breathe.

The plant partly knows this secret: it
draws its carbon quietly from the air, in
which each leaf is impregnated with the
wherewithal to grow tall and green. But
the vegetable is inactive; hence its innocent
life. Action calls for strongly flavoured
spices, won by fighting. The animal acts;
therefore it kills. The highest phase, per-
haps, of a self-conscious intelligence, man,
deserving nothing better, shares with the
brute the tyranny of the belly as the irresist-
ible motive of action.

But I have wandered too far afield. A
living speck, swarming in the paunch of a
grub, tells us of the brigandage of life.
How well it understands its trade as an ex-
terminator! In vain does the Crioceris-
larva take refuge in an unassailable casket:
its executioner makes herself so small that
she is able to reach it.

Adopt such precautions as you please, you
pitiable grubs, pose on your sprigs in the
attitude of a threatening Sphinx, take refuge
in the mysteries of a box, arm yourself with
a cuirass of dung: you will none the less pay
your tribute in the pitiless conflict; there will
432

The Crioceres

always be operators who, varying in cun-
ning, in size, in implements, will inoculate
you with their deadly germs.

Not even the lily-dweller, with her dirty
ways, is safe. Her grub is as often the prey
of another Tachina, larger than that of the
Field Crioceris. The parasite, I am con-
vinced, does not sow her eggs upon the vic-
tim so long as the latter is wrapped in its
repulsive great-coat; but a moment's impru-
dence gives her a favourable opportunity.

When the time comes for the grub to bury
itself in the ground, there to undergo the
transformation, it lays aside its mantle, with
the object perhaps of easing itself when it
descends from the top of the plant, or else
with the object of taking a bath in that kindly
sunlight whereof it has hitherto tasted so
little under its moist coverlet. This naked
journey over the leaves, the last joy of its
larval life, is fatal to the traveller. Up
comes the Tachina, who, finding a clean skin,
all sleek with fat, loses no time in dabbing
her eggs upon it.

A census of the intact and of the injured
larvae provides us with particulars which
agree with what we foresaw from the nature
of their respective lives. The most ex-
posed to parasites is the Field Crioceris,
433

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

whose larva lives in the open air, without any
sort of protection. Next comes the Twelve-
spotted Crioceris, who is established in the as-
paragus-berry from her early infancy. The
most favoured is the Lily-beetle, who, while
a grub, makes an ulster of her excretions.

For the second time, we are here con-
fronted by three insects which look as if they
had all come out of one mould, so much are
they alike in shape. If the costumes were
not different and the sizes dissimilar, we
should not know how to tell one from an-
other. And this pronounced resemblance in
figure is accompanied by a no less pro-
nounced lack of resemblance in instinct.

The evacuator that soils its back cannot
have inspired the hermit living in cleanly re-
tirement inside its globe; the occupant of
the asparagus-berry did not advise the third
to live in the open and wander like an acro-
bat through the leafage. None of the three
has initiated the customs of the other two.
All this seems to me as clear as daylight.
If they have issued from the same stock, how
have they acquired such dissimilar talents?

Furthermore, have these talents developed
by degrees? The Lily-beetle is prepared to
tell us. Her grub, let us suppose, once con-
ceived the notion, when tormented by the

434

The Crioceres

Tachina, of making the stercoral slit open
above. By accident, with no definite pur-
pose in view, it emptied the contents of its
intestine over its back. The natty Fly hesi-
tated in the presence of this filth. The grub,
in its cunning, recognized, as time went on,
the benefit to be derived from its poultice;
and what at first was an unpremeditated pol-
lution became a prudent custom.

As success followed upon success, with the
aid of the centuries, of course, for these in-
ventions always take centuries, the dung over-
coat was extended from the hinder end to
the fore-part, right down to the forehead.
Finding itself the gainer by this invention,
setting the parasite at defiance under its co-
verlet, the grub made a strict law of what
was an accident; and the Crioceris faithfully
handed down the repulsive great-coat to her
offspring.

So far this is not so bad. But things now
begin to become complicated. If the insect
was really the inventor of its defensive me-
thods, if it discovered for itself the advantage
of hiding under its ordure, I look to its in-
genuity to keep up the tricks until the precise
moment has come for burying itself. But,
on the contrary, it undresses itself some time
beforehand; it wanders about naked, taking

435

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

the air on the leaves, at a time when its fair
round belly is more than ever likely to tempt
the Fly. It completely forgets, on its last
day, the prudence which it acquired by the
long apprenticeship of the centuries.

This sudden change of purpose, this heed-
lessness in the face of danger tells me that
the insect forgets nothing, because it has
learnt nothing, because it has invented no-
thing. When the instincts were being dis-
tributed, it received as its share the overcoat,
of whose methods it is ignorant, though it
benefits by its advantages. It has not ac-
quired it by successive stages, followed by a
sudden halt at the most dangerous moment,
the moment most calculated to inspire it with
distrust; it is no more and no less gifted than
it was in the beginning and is unable in any
way to alter its tactics against the Tachina
and its other enemies.

Nevertheless, we must not be in a hurry
to attribute to the garment of filth the exclu-
sive function of protecting the grub against
the parasite. It is difficult to see in what
respect the Lily-grub is more deserving than
the Asparagus-grub, which possesses no de-
fensive arts. Perhaps it is less fruitful and,
to make up for the poverty of the ovaries,
boasts an ingenuity which safeguards the
436

The Crioceres

race. Nor is there anything to tell us that
the soft coverlet is not at the same time a
shelter which screens a too sensitive skin from
the sun. And, if it were a mere fal-lal, a
furbelow of larval coquetry, even that would
not surprise me. The insect has tastes
which we cannot judge by our own. Let us
end with a doubt and proceed.

May is not over when the grub, now fully-
grown, leaves the lily and buries itself at the
foot of the plant, at no great depth. Work-
ing with its head and rump, it forces back the
earth and makes itself a round recess, the
size of a pea. To turn the cell into a hollow
pill which will not be liable to collapse, all
that remains for it to do is to drench the
wall with a glue which soon sets and grips
the sand.

To observe this work of consolidation, I
unearth some unfinished cells and make an
opening which enables me to watch the grub
at work. The hermit is at the window in a
moment. A stream of froth pours from his
mouth like beaten-up white of egg. He
slavers, spits profusely; he makes his pro-
duct effervescence and lays it on the edge of
the breach. With a few spurts of froth the
opening is plugged.

I collect other grubs at the moment of
437

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

their interment and install them in glass tubes
with a few tiny bits of paper which will serve
them as a prop. There is no sand, no build-
ing-material other than the creature's spittle
and my very few shreds of paper. Under
these conditions can the pill-shaped cell be
constructed?

Yes, it can; and without much difficulty.
Supporting itself partly on the glass, partly
on the paper, the larva begins to slaver all
around it, to froth copiously. After a spell
of some hours, it has disappeared within a
solid shell. This is white as snow and
highly porous; it might almost be a globule
of whipped albumen. Thus, to stick to-
gether the sand in its pill-shaped nest, the
larva employs a frothy albuminous substance.

Let us now dissect the builder. Around
the oesophagus, which is fairly long and soft,
are no salivary glands, no silk-tubes. The
frothy cement is therefore neither silk nor
saliva. One organ forces itself upon our at-
tention : it is the crop, which is very capacious,
and dilated with irregular protuberances that
put it out of shape. It is filled with a col-
ourless, viscous fluid. This is certainly the
raw material of the frothy spittle, the glue
that binds the grains of sand together and
consolidates them into a spherical whole.
438

The Crioceres

When the preparations for the metamor-
phosis are at hand, the stomachic pouch,
having no longer to do duty as a digestive
laboratory, serves the insect as a factory, or
a warehouse for different purposes. Here
the Sitares store up their uric waste pro-
ducts; here the Capricorns collect the chalky
paste which becomes the stone lid for the
entrance to the cell; here caterpillars keep in
reserve the gums and powders with which
they strengthen the cocoon; hence the Hy-
menoptera draw the lacquer which they em-
ploy to upholster their silken edifice. And
now we find the Lily-beetle using it as a store
for frothy cement.1 What an obliging organ
is this digestive pouch!

The two Asparagus-beetles are likewise
proficient dribblers, worthy rivals of their
kinswoman of the lily in the matter of build-
ing. In all three cases the underground shell
has the same shape and the same structure.

When, after a subterranean visit of two
months' duration, the Lily-beetle returns to
the surface in her adult form, a botanical
problem remains to be solved before the his-
tory of the insect is completed. We are

1 This subject is continued in the essay on the Foamy
Cicadella. Cf. The Life of the Grasshopper: chap. xx. —
Translator's Note.

439

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

now at the height of summer. The lilies
have had their day. A dry, leafless stick,
surmounted by a few tattered capsules, is all
that is left of the magnificent plant of the
spring. Only the onion-like bulb remains a
little way down. There, postponing the
process of vegetation, it waits for the steady
rains of the autumn, which will renew its
strength and make it burgeon into a sheaf of
leaves.

How does the Lily-beetle live during the
summer, before the return of the green foli-
age dear to its race? Does it fast during
the extreme heat? If abstinence is its rule
of life in this season of vegetable dearth,
why does it emerge from underground, why
does it abandon its shell, where it could sleep
so peacefully, without the necessity of eat-
ing? Can it be need of food that drives it
from the substratum and sends it to the sun-
light so soon as the wing-cases have assumed
their vermilion hue? It is very likely. For
the rest, let us look into the matter.

On the ruined stems of my white lilies I
find a portion covered with a scrap of green
skin. I set it before the prisoners in my jars,
who emerged from their sandy bed a day or
two ago. They attack it with an appetite
which is extremely conclusive ; the green mor-
440

The Crioceres

sel is stripped bare to the wood. Soon I
have nothing left, in the way of their regu-
lation diet, to offer my famished captives. I
know that all the lilies, native or exotic, the
Turk's cap lily, or Martagon, the lily of
Chalcedon, the tiger lily and many others, are
to their taste ; I do not forget that the crown
imperial fritillary and the Persian fritillary
are equally welcome; but most of these deli-
cate plants have refused the hospitality of
my two acres of pebbles and those which it is
more or less possible for me to grow are
now as tattered as the common lily. There
is not a patch of green left on them.

In botany the lily gives its name to the
family of the Liliaceae, of which it is the
leading representative. Those who feed
upon the lily ought also, in the absence of
anything better, to accept the other plants
of the same group. This is my opinion at
first; it is not that of the Crioceris, who
knows more than I do about the virtues of
plants.

The family of the Liliaceae is subdivided
into three tribes: the lilies, the daffodils and
the asparaguses. Not any of the daffodil
tribe suit my famishing prisoners, who allow
themselves to die of inanition on the leaves
of the following genera, the only varieties
441

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

with which the modest "resources of my gar-
den have allowed me to experiment: aspho-
del, funkia, or niobe, agapanthus, or African
lily, tritelia, hemerocallis, or day lily, tritoma,
garlic, ornithogalum, or star of Bethlehem,
squill, hyacinth, muscari, or grape-hyacinth.
I record, for whom it may concern, this pro-
found contempt of the Crioceris for the daf-
fodils. An insect's opinion is not to be de-
spised: it tells us that we should obtain a
more natural arrangement by separating the
daffodils farther from the lilies.

In the first of the three tribes, the classic
white lily, the plant preferred by the insect,
takes the chief place; next come the other
lilies and the fritillaries, a diet almost as
much sought after; and lastly the tulips,
which the season is too far advanced to allow
me to submit for the approval of the Crio-
ceris.

The third tribe had a great surprise in
store for me. The red Crioceris fed, though
with a very scornful tooth, on the foliage of
the asparagus, the favourite dish of the Field
Crioceris and the Twelve-spotted Crioceris.
On the other hand, she feasted rapturously on
the lily of the valley (Convallaria maialis)
and on Solomon's seal (Polygonatum vul-
gar e) , both of which are so different from the
442

The Crioceres

lily to any eye untrained in the niceties of
botanical analysis.

She did more: she browsed, with every
appearance of a contented stomach, on a
prickly creeper, Smilax aspera, which tangles
itself in the hedges with its corkscrew tendrils
and produces, in the autumn, graceful clus-
ters of small red berries, which are used for
Christmas decorations. The fully-developed
leaves are too hard for her, too tough; she
wants the tender tips of the nascent foliage.
When I take this precaution, I can feed her
on the intractable vine as readily as on the
lily.

The fact that the smilax is accepted gives
me confidence in the prickly butcher' s-broom
(Ruscus aculeatus) , another shrub of sturdy
constitution, admitted to the family rejoicings
at Christmas because of its handsome green
leaves and its red berries, which are like big
coral beads. In order not to discourage the
consumer with leaves that are too hard, I
select some young seedlings, newly sprouted
and still bearing the round berry, the nutri-
tive gourd, hanging at their base. My pre-
cautions lead to nothing: the insect obstinately
refuses the butcher's-broom, on which I
thought that I might rely after the smilax had
been accepted.

443

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

We have our botany; the Crioceris has
hers, which is subtler in its appreciation of
affinities. Her domain comprises two very
natural groups, that of the lily and that of the
smilax, which, with the advance of science,
has become the family of the Smilaceae. In
these two groups she recognizes certain gen-
era — the more numerous — as her own ; she
refuses the others, which ought perhaps to be
revised before being finally classified.

An exclusive taste for the asparagus, one
of the foremost representatives of the Smi-
laceae, characterizes the two other Crioceres,
those eager exploiters of the cultivated as-
paragus. I find them also pretty often on
the needle-leaved asparagus {A. acutifolius),
a forbidding-looking shrub with long, flexible
stems bearing many branches, which the
Provencal vine-grower uses, under the name
of roumieu, as a filter before the tap of the
wine-vat, to prevent the refuse of the grapes
from choking up the vent-hole. Apart from
these two plants, the two Crioceres refuse ab-
solutely everything, even when in July they
come up from the earth with the famishing
stomachs which the long fast of the meta-
morphosis has given them. On the same
wild asparagus, disdainful of the rest, lives a
fourth Crioceris (C. paracenthesia) , the

444

The Crioceres

smallest of the group. I do not know enough
of her habits to say anything more about her.
These botanical details tell us that the
Crioceres, which hatch early, in the middle
of summer, have no reason to fear famine.
If the Lily-beetle can no longer find her fa-
vourite plant, she can browse upon Solomon's
seal and smilax, not to mention the lily of
the valley and, I dare say, a few others of
the same family. The other three are more
favoured. Their food-plant remains erect,
green and well provided with leaves until the
end of autumn. The wild asparagus even,
undaunted by the extreme cold, maintains a
sturdy existence all the year round. Be-
lated resources, moreover, are superfluous.
After a brief period of summer freedom, the
various Crioceres seek their winter quarters
and go to earth under the dead leaves.

445

CHAPTER XVIII

THE CLYTHR^E

THE Lily-beetle dresses herself: with her
ordure she makes herself a cosy gown,
an infamous garment, it is true, but an ex-
cellent protection against parasites and sun-
stroke. The weaver of faecal cloth has
hardly any imitators. The Hermit-crab
dresses himself: he selects to fit him, from the
discarded wardrobe of the Sea-snail, an
empty shell, damaged by the waves; he slips
his poor abdomen, which is incapable of
hardening, inside it and leaves outside his
great fists of unequal size, clad in stone box-
ing-gloves. This is yet another example
rarely followed.

With a few exceptions, all the more re-
markable because they are so rare, the ani-
mal, in fact, is not burdened by the need of
clothing itself. Endowed, without having to
manufacture a thing, with all that it wants,
it knows nothing of the art of adding defen-
sive extras to its natural covering.

The bird has no need to take thought of
446

The Clythrae

its plumage, the furry beast of its coat, the
reptile of its scales, the Snail of his shell,
the Ground-beetle of his jerkin. They dis-
play no ingenuity with the object of securing
protection from the inclemencies of the at-
mosphere. Hair, down, scales, mother-of-
pearl and other items of the animal's appa-
rel: these are all produced of their own
accord, on an automatic loom.

Man, for his part, is naked; and the se-
verities of the climate oblige him to wear an
artificial skin to protect his own. This pover-
ty has given rise to one of our most attrac-
tive industries.

He invented clothing who, shivering with
cold, first thought of flaying the Bear and
covering his shoulders with the brute's hide.
In a distant future this primitive cloak was
gradually to be replaced by cloth, the pro-
duct of our industry. But under a mild sky
the traditional fig-leaf, the screen of modesty,
was for a long while sufficient. Among peo-
ples remote from civilization, it still suffices
in our day, together with its ornamental com-
plement, the fish-bone through the cartilage
of the nose, the red feather in the hair, the
string round the loins. We must not forget
the smear of rancid butter, which serves to
keep off the Mosquito and reminds us of the

447

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

unguent employed by the grub that dreads
the Tachina.

In the first rank of the animals protected
against the bite of the atmosphere without
the intervention of a handicraft are those
which go clad in hair, dressed free of cost in
fleeces, furs or pelts. Some of these natural
coats are magnificent, surpassing our downi-
est velvets in softness.

Despite the progress of weaving, man is
still jealous of them. To-day, as in the ages
when he sheltered under a rock, he values
furs greatly for the winter. At all seasons
he holds them in high esteem as ornamental
accessories; he glories in sewing on his attire
a shred of some wretched flayed beast. The
ermine of kings and judges, the white rabbit-
tails with which the university graduate
adorns his left shoulder on solemn occasions
carry us back in thought to the age of the
cave-dwellers.

Moreover, the fleecy animals still clothe
us in a less primitive fashion. Our woollens
are made of hairs interlaced. Ever since the
beginning, without hoping to find anything
better, man has clothed himself at the ex-
pense of the hairy orders of creation.

The bird, a more active producer of heat,
448

The Clythrae

whose maintenance is a more delicate matter,
covers itself with feathers, which overlap
evenly, and puts round its body a thick cush-
ion of air on a bed of down. It has on its
tail a pot of cosmetic, a bottle of hair-oil, a
fatty gland from which the beak obtains an
ointment wherewith it preens the feathers one
by one and renders them impermeable to
moisture. A great expender of energy by
reason of the exigencies of flight, it is es-
sentially, chilly creature that it is, better-
adapted than any other to the retention of
heat.

For the slow-moving reptile the scales suf-
fice, preserving it from hurtful contacts, but
playing hardly any part as a bulwark against
changes of temperature.

In its liquid environment, which is far
more constant than the air, the fish requires
no more. Without effort on its part, with-
out violent expenditure of motor force, the
swimmer is borne up by the mere pressure of
the water. A bath whose temperature
varies but little enables it to live in ignorance
of excessive cold or heat.

In the same way, the mollusc, for the most
part a denizen of the seas, leads a blissful
life in its shell, which is a defensive fortress

449

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

rather than a garment. Lastly the crusta-
cean confines itself to making a suit of arm-
our out of its mineral skin.

In all these, from the hairy to the crusta-
ceous, the real coat, the coat turned out by a
special industry, does not exist. Hair, fur,
feather, scale, shell, stony armour require no
intervention of the wearer; they are natural
products, not the artificial creations of the
animal. To find clothiers able to place upon
their backs that which their organization re-
fuses them, we must descend from man to
certain insects.

Ridiculous attire, of which we are so
proud, made from the slaver of a caterpillar
or the fleece of a silly sheep : among its inven-
tors the first and foremost is the Crioceris-
larva, with its jacket of dung! In the art of
clothing itself, it preceded the Eskimo, who
scrapes the bowels of the seal to make himself
a suit of dittos; it forestalled our ancestor the
troglodyte, who borrowed the fur-coat of his
contemporary the Cave-bear. We had not
got beyond the fig-leaf, when the Crioceris al-
ready excelled in the manufacture of home-
spun, both providing the raw material and
piecing it together.

For reasons of economy and easy acquisi-
tion, its disgusting method, but with very ele-
4So

The Clythrae

gant modifications, suits the clan of the
Clythrae and Cryptocephali, those pretty and
magnificently coloured Beetles. Their larva,
a naked little grub, makes itself a long, nar-
row pot, in which it lives just like the Snail
in his shell. As a coat and as a dwelling the
timid creature makes use of a jar, better
still, of a graceful vase, the product of its
industry.

Once inside, it never comes out. If any-
thing alarms it, with a sudden recoil it with-
draws completely into its urn, the opening of
which is closed with the disk formed by the
flat top of the head. When quiet is restored,
it ventures to put out its head and the three
segments with legs to them, but is very care-
ful to keep the rest, which is more delicate
and fastened to the back, inside.

With tiny steps, weighted by the burden,
it makes its way along, lifting its earthenware
container behind it in a slanting position. It
makes one think of Diogenes, dragging his
house, a terra-cotta tub, about with him.
The thing is rather unwieldy, because of the
weight, and is liable to heel over, owing to
the excessive height of the centre of gravity.
It makes progress all the same, tilting like a
busby rakishly cocked over one ear. One of
our Land-snails, the Bulimus, whose shell is
45i

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

continued into a turret, moves almost in the
same fashion, tumbling repeatedly as he goes.

The Clythra's is a shapely jar and does
credit to the insect's art of pottery. It is
firm to the touch, of earthy appearance and
smooth as stucco inside, while the outside is
relieved by delicate diagonal, symmetrical
ribs, which are the traces of successive en-
largements. The back part is slightly di-
lated and is rounded off at the end with two
slight bumps. These two terminal projec-
tions, with the central furrow which divides
them, and the ribs marking additions, which
match on either side, are evidence of work
done in two parts, in which the artist has
followed the rules of symmetry, the first
condition of the beautiful.

The front part is of rather smaller dia-
meter and is cut off on a slant, which enables
the jar to be lifted and supported on the
larva's back as it moves. Lastly, the mouth
is circular, with a blunt edge.

Any one finding one of these jars for the
first time, among the stones at the foot of an
oak, and wondering what its origin could be,
would be greatly puzzled. Is it the stone of
some unknown fruit, emptied of its kernel
by the patient tooth of the Field-mouse? Is
it the capsule of a plant, from which the lid

452

The Clythrae

has dropped, allowing the seeds to fall? It
has all the accuracy, all the elegance of the
materpieces of the vegetable kingdom.

After learning the origin of the object, he
would be no less doubtful as to the nature of
the materials, or rather of their cement.
Water will not soften, will not disintegrate
the shell. This must be so, else the first
shower of rain would reduce the grub's gar-
ment to pulp. Fire does not affect it greatly
either. When exposed to the flame of a can-
dle, the jar, without changing shape, loses its
brown colour and assumes the tint of burnt
ferruginous earth. The groundwork of the
material therefore is of a mineral nature.
It remains for us to discover what the cement
can be that gives the earthy element its brown
colour, holds it together and makes it solid.

The grub is ever on its guard. At the
least flurry, it shrinks into its shell and does
not budge for a long time. Let us be as pa-
tient as the grub. We shall surely, some day
or other, manage to surprise it at work.
And indeed I do. It suddenly backs into its
jar, disappearing inside entirely. In a mo-
ment it reappears, carrying a brown pellet
in its mandibles. It kneads the pellet and
works it up with a little earth gathered on
the threshold of its dwelling; it softens the
453

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

mixture as required and then spreads it art-
istically in a thin strip on the edge of the
sheath.

The legs take no part in the job. Only
the mandibles and the palpi work, acting as
tub, trowel, beater and roller in one.

Once more the grub backs into its shell:
once more it returns, bringing a second clod,
which is prepared and used in the same man-
ner. Five or six times over, it repeats the
process, until the whole circumference of the
mouth has been increased by the addition of
a rim.

The potter's compound, as we have seen,
consists of two ingredients. One of these,
the first earth that comes to hand, is collected
on the threshold of the workshop; the other
is fetched from inside the pot, for, each time
that the grub returns, I see it carrying a
brown pellet in its teeth. What does it keep
in the back-shop? Though we can scarcely
find out by direct observation, we can at least
guess.

Observe that the jar is absolutely closed
behind, without the smallest waste-pipe by
which the physiological needs from which the
grub is certainly not immune can be relieved.
The grub is boxed in and never stirs out of
doors. What becomes of its excretions?

454

The Clythrae

Well, they are evacuated at the bottom of
the pot. By a gentle movement of the rump,
the product is spread upon the walls, strength-
ening the coat and giving it a velvet lining.

It is better than a lining; it is a precious
store of putty. When the grub wants to
repair its shell or to enlarge it to fit its fig-
ure, which increases daily, it proceeds to
clean out its cess-pool. It turns round and,
with the tips of its mandibles, collects singly,
from the back, the brown pellets which it
has only to work up with a little earth to
make a ceramic paste of the highest quality.

Observe also that the grub's pottery is
shaped like the legs of our peg-top trousers
and is wider inside than at the opening.
This excessive girth has its obvious use. It
enables the animal to bend and turn when
the contents of the cess-pit are needed for a
fresh course of masonry.

A garment should be neither too short nor
too tight. It is not enough to add a piece
which lengthens it as the body grows longer ;
we must also see that it has sufficient fulness
not to hamper the wearer and to give him
liberty of movement.

The Snail and all the molluscs with turbin-
ate shells increase the diameter of their cork-
screw staircase by degrees, so that the last

455

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

whorl is always an exact measure of their
actual condition. The lower whorls, those
of childhood, when they become too narrow,
are not abandoned, it is true; they become
lumber-rooms in which the organs of least
importance to active life find shelter, drawn
out into a slender appendage. The essen-
tial portion of the animal is lodged in the
upper story, which increases in capacity.

The big Broken Bulimus, that lover of
crumbling walls and limestone rocks leaning
in the sun, sacrifices the graces of symmetry
to utility. When the lower spirals are no
longer wide enough, he abandons them alto-
gether and moves higher up, into the spacious
staircase of recent formation. He closes the
occupied part with a stout partition-wall at
the back; then, dashing against the sharp
stones, he chips off the superfluous portion,
the hovel not fit to live in. The broken shell
loses its accurate form in the process, but
gains in lightness.

The Clythra does not employ the Bulimus'
method. It also disdains that of our dress-
makers, who split the overtight garment and
let in a piece of suitable width between the
edges of the opening. To break the jar
when it becomes too small would be a wilful
waste of material; to split it lengthwise and
456

The Clythrae

increase its capacity by inserting a strip would
be an imprudent expedient, which would ex-
pose the occupant to danger during the slow
work of repair. The hermit of the jar can
do better than that. It knows how to enlarge
its gown while leaving it, except for its ful-
ness, as it was before.

Its paradoxical method is this: of the li-
ning it makes cloth, bringing to the outside
what was inside. Little by little, as the need
makes itself felt, the grub scrapes and strips
the interior of its cell. Reduced to a soft
paste by means of a little putty furnished by
the intestine, the scrapings are applied over
the whole of the outer surface, down to the
far end, which the grub, thanks to its perfect
flexibility, is able to reach without taking too
much trouble or leaving its house.

This turning of the coat is accomplished
with a delicate precision which preserves the
symmetrical arrangement of the ornamental
ridges ; lastly, it increases the capacity by a
gradual transfer of the material from the in-
side to the outside. This method of renew-
ing the old coat is so accurate that nothing is
thrown aside, nothing treated as useless, not
even the baby-wear, which remains encrusted
in the keystone at the original top of the
structure.

457

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

If fresh materials were added, obviously
the jar would gain in size at the cost of
thickness. The shell would become too thin,
by dint of being turned in order to make
space, and would sooner or later lack the
requisite solidity. The grub guards against
that. It has in front of it as much earth as
it can wish for; it keeps putty in a back-shop;
and the factory which produces it never
slacks work. There is nothing to prevent it
from thickening the structure at will and
adding as much material as it thinks proper
to the inner scrapings from the shell.

Invariably clad in a garment that is an ex-
act fit, neither too loose nor too tight, the
grub, when the cold weather comes, closes the
mouth of its earthenware jar with a lid of
the same mixed compound, a paste of earth
and stercoral cement. It then turns round
and makes its preparations for the meta-
morphosis, with its head at the back of the
pot and its stern near the entrance, which will
not be opened again. It reaches the adult
stage in April and May, when the ilex be-
comes covered with tender shoots, and
emerges from its shell by breaking open the
hinder end. Now come the days of revelry
on the leafage, in the mild morning sun.

The Clythra's jar is a piece of work en-
458

The Clythrae

tailing no little .delicacy of execution. I can
quite well see how the grub lengthens and en-
larges it; but I cannot imagine how it begins
it. If it has nothing to serve as a mould and
a base, how does it set to work to assemble
the first layers of paste into a neatly-shaped
cup?

Our potters have their lathe, the tray
which keeps the work rotating and imple-
ments to determine its outline. Could the
Clythra, an exceptional ceramic artist, work
without a base and without a guide? It
strikes me as an insurmountable difficulty. I
know the insect to be capable of many re-
markable industrial feats ; but, before admit-
ting that the jar can be based on nothing, we
should have to see the new-born artist at
work. Perhaps it has resources bequeathed
to it by its mother; perhaps the egg presents
peculiarities which will solve the riddle. Let
us rear the insect, collect its eggs; then the
pottery will tell us the secret of its beginnings.

I install three species of Clythrae under
wire-gauze covers, each with a bed of sand
and a bottle of water containing a few young
ilex-shoots, which I renew as and when they
fade. All three species are common on the
holm-oak: they are the Long-legged Clythra
(C longipes, FAB.), the Pour-spotted Cly-
459

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

thra (C. quadripunctata, LIN.), and the
Taxicorn Clythra (C. taxkornis, FAB.).

I set up a second menagerie with some
Cryptocephali, who are closely related to the
Clythrae. The inmates are the Ilex Crypto-
cephalus (C. ilicis, OLIV.), the Two-spotted
Cryptocephalus (C. bipunctatus, LIN.) and
the Golden Cryptocephalus (C. hypochceri-
dis, LIN.), who wears a resplendent cos-
tume. For the first two I provide sprigs of
ilex; for the third, the heads of a centaury
{Centaur ea aspera), which is the favourite
plant of this living gem.

There is nothing striking in the habits of
my captives, who spend the morning very
quietly, the first five browsing on their oak-
leaves and the sixth on her centaury-blooms.
When the sun grows hot, they fly from the
bunch of leaves in the centre to the wire trellis
and back from the trellis to the leaves, or
wander about the top of the cage in a state
of great excitement.

Every moment couples are formed. They
pester each other, pair without preliminaries,
part without regrets and begin elsewhere all
over again. Life is sweet; and there are
enough for all to choose from. Several are
persistent. Mounted on the back of the pa-
tient female, who lowers her head and seems
460

The Clythrae

untouched by the passionate storm, they shake
her violently. Thus do the amorous insects
declare their flame and win the consent of
the hesitating fair.

The attitude of the couple now tells us the
use of a certain organic detail peculiar to the
Clythra. In several species, though not in
all, the males' fore-legs are of inordinate
length. What is the object of these extrava-
gant arms, these curious grappling-irons out
of all proportion to the insect's size? The
Grasshoppers and Locusts prolong their hind-
legs into levers to assist them in leaping.
There is nothing of the sort here : it is the
fore-legs which are exaggerated; and their
excessive length has nothing to do with lo-
comotion. The insect, whether resting or
walking, seems even to be embarrassed by
these outrageous stilts, which it bends awk-
wardly and tucks away as best it can, not
knowing exactly what to do with them.

But wait for the pairing; and the extrava-
gant becomes reasonable. The couple take
up their pose in the form of a T. The male,
standing perpendicularly, or nearly, repre-
sents the cross-piece and the female the shaft
of the letter, lying on its side. To steady
his attitude, which is so contrary to the usual
position in pairing, the male flings out his
461

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

long grappling-hooks, two sheet-anchors
which grip the female's shoulders, the fore-
edge of her corselet, or even her head.

At this moment, the only moment that
counts in the adult insect's life, it is a good
thing indeed to possess long arms, long hands,
like Clythra longimana and C. longipes, as
the scientific nomenclature calls them. Al-
though their names are silent on the subject,
the Taxicorn Clythra and the Six-spotted
Clythra (C. sexmaculata, FAB.) and many
others also have recourse to the same means
of equilibrium: their fore-legs are utterly ex-
aggerated.

Is the difficulty of pairing in a transversal
position the explanation of the long grap-
pling-irons thrown out to a distance? We
will not be too certain, for here is the Four-
spotted Clythra, who would flatly contradict
us. The male has fore-legs of modest di-
mensions, in conformity with the usual rules;
he places himself crosswise like the others
and nevertheless achieves his ends without
hindrance. He finds it enough to modify
slightly the gymnastics of his embrace. The
same may be said of the different Crypto-
cephali, who all have stumpy limbs. Wher-
ever we look, we find special resources, known
to some and unknown to others.

CHAPTER XIX

THE CLYTHR^: THE EGG

LET us leave the long-armed and short-
armed to pursue their amorous contests
as they please and come to the egg, the main
object of my insect-rearing. The Taxicorn
Clythra is the first in the field; I see her at
working during the last days of May. A
most singular and disconcerting batch of eggs
is hers! Is it really a group of eggs? I
hesitate until I surprise the mother using her
hind-legs to finish extracting the strange germ
which issues slowly and perhaps laboriously
from her oviduct.

It is indeed the Taxicorn Clythra's batch.
Assembled in bundles of one to three dozen
and each fastened by a slender transparent
thread slightly longer than itself, the eggs
form a sort of inverted umbel, which dangles
sometimes from the trellisworlc of the cover,
sometimes from the leaves of the twigs that
provide the grub with food. The bunch of
grains quivers at the least breath.

We know the egg-cluster of the Hemero-
463

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

bius, the object of so many mistakes to the
untrained observer. The little Lace-winged
Fly with the gold eggs sets up on a leaf a
group of long, tiny columns as fine as a
spider's thread, each bearing an egg as a
capital. The whole resembles pretty closely
a tuft of some long-stemmed mildew. Re-
member also the Eumenes' hanging egg,1
which swings at the end of a thread, thus
protecting the grub when it takes its first
mouthfuls of the heap of dangerous game.
The Taxicorn Clythra provides us with a
third example of eggs fitted with suspension-
threads, but so far nothing has given me an
inkling of the function or the use of this
string. Though the mother's intentions es-
cape me, I can at least describe her work in
some detail.

The eggs are smooth, coffee-coloured and
shaped like a thimble. If you hold them to
the light, you see in the thickness of their
skin five circular zones, darker than the rest
and producing almost the same effect as the
hoops of a barrel. The end attached to the
suspension-thread is slightly conical; the
other is lopped off abruptly and the section is
hollowed into a circular mouth. A good lens
shows us inside this, a little below the rim, a

1 Cf. The Mason-wasps: chap. i. — Translator's Note.
464

The Clythrae: The Egg

fine white membrane, as smooth as the skin
of a drum.

In addition, from the edge of the orifice
there rises a wide membranous tab, whitish
and delicate, which might be taken for a
raised lid. Nevertheless there is no raising
of a lid after the eggs are laid. I have seen
the egg leave the oviduct; it is then what it
will be later, but lighter in colour. No mat-
ter: I cannot believe that so complicated a
machine can make its way, with all sail set,
through the maternal straits. I imagine that
the lid-like appendage remains lowered, clo-
sing the mouth, until the moment when the
egg sees the light. Then and not till then
does it rise.

Guided by the rather less complex struc-
ture of the eggs of the other Clythrae and of
the Cryptocephali, I think of trying to take
the strange germ to pieces; and I succeed
after a fashion. Under the coffee-coloured
sheath, which forms a little five-hooped bar-
rel, is a white membrane. This is what we
see through the mouth and what I compared
with the skin of a drum. I recognize it as
the regulation tunic, the usual envelope of
any insect's egg. The rest, the little brown
barrel, broached at one end and bearing a
raised lid, must therefore be an accessory in-
465

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

tegument, a sort of exceptional shell, of
which I do not as yet know any other ex-
ample.

The Long-legged Clythra and the Four-
spotted Clythra know nothing of packing
their eggs in long-stemmed bundles. In June,
from the height of the branches in which
they are grazing, both of them carelessly al-
low their eggs to drop to the ground, one by
one, here and there, at random and at long
intervals, without giving the least thought to
their installation. They might be little
grains of excrement, unworthy of interest
and ejected at hazard. The egg-factory and
the dung-factory scatter their products with
the same indifference.

Nevertheless, let us bring the lens to bear
upon the minute particle so contumeliously
treated. It is a miracle of elegance. In
both species of Clythrae the eggs have the
form of truncated ellipsoids, measuring about
a millimetre in length.1 The Long-legged
Clythra's are a very dark brown and remind
one of a thimble, a comparison which is the
more exact inasmuch as they are dented with
quadrangular pits, arranged in spiral series
which cross one another with exquisite pre-
cision.

1 .03.9 inch. — Translator's Note.
466

The Clythrae: The Egg

Those of the Four-spotted Clythra are pale
'In colour. They are covered with convex
scales, overlapping in diagonal rows, ending
in a point at the lower extremity, which is
free and more or less askew. This collec-
tion of scales has rather the appearance of a
hop-cone. Surely a very curious egg, ill-
adapted to gliding gently through the nar-
row passages of the ovaries. I feel sure
that it does not bristle in this fashion when it
descends the delicate natal sheath; it is near
the end of the oviduct that it receives its
coat of scales.

In the case of the three Cryptocephali
reared in my cages, the eggs are laid later;
their season is the end of June and July. As
in the Clythrae, there is the same lack of
maternal care, the same hap-hazard drop-
ping of the seeds from the centaury-blossoms
and the ilex-twigs. The general form of the
egg is still that of a truncated ellipsoid.
The ornaments vary. In the eggs of the
Golden Cryptocephalus and the Ilex Crypto-
cephalus they consist of eight flattened, wavy
ribs, winding corkscrew-wise ; in those of the
Two-spotted Cryptocephalus they take the
form of spiral rows of pits.

What can this envelope be, so remarkable
for its elegance, with its spiral mouldings,
467

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

its thimble-pits and its hop-scales? A few
little accidental facts put me on the right
track. To begin with, I acquire the cer-
tainty that the egg does not descend from
the ovaries as I find it on the ground. Its
ornamentation, incompatible with a gentle
gliding movement, had already told me as
much; I now have a clear proof.

Mingled with the normal eggs of both the
Golden Cryptocephalus and the Long-legged
Clythra, I find others which differ in no re-
spect from the usual run of insects' eggs.
The eggs are perfectly smooth, with a soft,
pale-yellow shell. As the cage contains no
other insects than the Clythra under con-
sideration or the Cryptocephalus, I cannot
be mistaken as to the origin of my finds.

Moreover, if any doubts remained, they
would be dispelled by the following evidence :
in addition to the bare, yellow eggs there are
some whose base is set in a tiny brown, pitted
cup, obviously the work of either the Two-
spotted Cryptocephalus or the Long-legged
Clythra, according to the cage, but unfinished
work, which half-clothed the egg, as it left
the ovaries, and then, when the dress-ma-
terial ran short, or something went wrong
with the machinery, allowed it to cross the
468

The Clythrae: The Egg

outer threshold in the likeness of an acorn
fixed in its cup.

Nothing could be prettier than this yellow
egg, standing in its artistic egg-cup. Nor
could anything tell us more conclusively
where the jewel is manufactured. It is in
the cloaca, the chamber common to the ovi-
duct and the intestine, that the bird wraps
its egg in a calcareous shell, often decorating
it with magnificent hues: olive-green for the
Nightingale, sky-blue for the Wheatear, soft
pink for the Icterine Warbler. It is in the
cloaca also that the Clythra and the Crypto-
cephalus produce the elegant armour of
their eggs.

It remains to decide upon the material em-
ployed. From its horny appearance there
is reason to believe that the little barrel of
the Taxicorn Clythra and the scales of the
Four-spotted Clythra are the products of a
special secretion; and, now that it is too late,
I much regret that I neglected to look for the
apparatus yielding this secretion in the neigh-
bourhood of the cloaca. As for the thing
so prettily wrought by the Long-legged
Clythra and the Cryptocephali, let us admit
without false shame that it is made of fsecal
matter.

469

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

The proof is furnished by certain speci-
mens, by no means rare in the Golden Cryp-
tocephalus, in which the customary brown is
replaced by an unmistakable green, the sign
of a vegetable pulp. In course of time, these
green eggs turn brown and become like the
others, no doubt by reason of an oxidization
which alters the natural qualities of the di-
gestive product still further. The egg, en-
tering the cloaca in a soft and utterly naked
state, receives an artistic coat of the in-
testinal dross, even as the Hen's egg is cov-
ered by a shell formed of the chalky secre-
tions.

Materiem superabat opus, nam Mulciber

illic
JEquora celerat,

said Ovid, in his description of the Palace
of the Sun. The poet had precious metals
and gems wherewith to build his imaginary
marvel. What has the Clythra wherewith
to achieve its ideal jewel? It has the shame-
ful material whose name is banished from
decent speech. And which is the Mulciber,
the Vulcan, the artist-engraver that engraves
the covering of the egg so prettily? It is
the terminal sewer. The cloaca rolls the
470

The Clythrae: The Egg

material, flutes it, twists it into spirals, decks
it with chains of little pits and makes it up
into a scaly suit of armour, showing how na-
ture laughs at our paltry standards of value
and how well able she is to convert the sordid
into the beautiful.

In the bird, the egg-shell is a tempo-
rary defensive cell which at hatching-time is
broken and abandoned and is henceforth use-
less. Made of horny matter or stercoral
paste, the shell of the Clythra and the Cryp-
tocephalus is, on the contrary, a permanent
refuge, which the insect will never leave so
long as it remains a larva. Here the grub
is born with a ready-made garment, of rare
elegance and an exact fit, a garment which
it only has to enlarge, little by little, in the
original manner described above. The shell,
shaped like a little barrel or thimble, is open
in front. There is nothing therefore to
break, nothing to cast aside at the moment
of hatching, except perhaps the actual en-
velope of the egg. Directly this membrane
is burst, the tiny creature is free, with a
handsome carved jacket, a legacy from its
mother.

Let us indulge in a crazy dream and
imagine young birds which keep the egg-
shell intact, save for an opening through
471

The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles

which they pass their head, and which, all
their lives long, remain clad in this shell, on
condition that they themselves enlarge it as
they grow. This absurd dream is realized
by our grub : it is dressed in the shell of its
egg, expanded by degrees as the grub itself
grows bigger.

In July all my collection of eggs are
hatched, each isolated in a large cup covered
with a slip of glass which will moderate the
evaporation. What an interesting family!
My vermin are swarming amid the miscella-
neous vegetable refuse with which I have fur-
nished the premises. They all move along
with tiny steps, dragging their shells, which
they carry lifted on a slant; they come half-
way out and suddenly pop in again; they tum-
ble over if they merely attempt to scale a
sprig of moss, pick themselves up again, forge
ahead and cast about at random.

Hunger, we can no longer doubt, is the
cause of this agitation. What shall I give my
famished nurselings? They are vegetari-
ans: there can be no doubt whatever about
that; but this is not enough to settle the bill
of fare. What would happen under the
natural conditions? Rearing the insects in
cages, I find the eggs scattered at random on
the ground. The mother drops them care-
472

The Clythrae: The Egg

lessly, here and there, from the top of the
bough where she is refreshing herself by
soberly notching some tender leaf. The
Taxicorn Clythra fits a long stalk to her eggs
and fixes them in clusters on the foliage.
While I cannot yet make up my mind, in the
absence of direct observation, whether the
new-born larva cuts the suspension-thread
itself, or whether the thread is broken merely
as a result of drying up, sooner or later these
eggs are lying on the ground, like the others.

The same thing must happen outside my
cages : the eggs of the Clythrae and the Cryp-
tocephali are scattered over the ground be-
neath the tree or plant on which the adult
feeds.

Now what do we find under the shelter of
the oak? Turf, dead leaves, more or less
pickled by decay, dry twigs cased in lichens,
broken stones with cushions of moss and,
lastly, mould, the final residue of vegetable
matters wrought upon by time. Under the
tufts of the centaury on which the Golden
Cryptocephalus browses lies a black bed of
the miscellaneous refuse of the plant.

I try a little of everything, but nothing an-
swers my expectations very positively. I ob-
serve, nevertheless, that a few disdainful
mouthfuls are taken, a little bit here, a little

473

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

bit there, enough to tell me the nature of the
first layers which the grub adds to its natal
sheath. With the exception of the Taxicorn
Clythra, whose egg, with its suspension-stalk,
seems to denote rather special habits, I see
my several charges begin to prolong their
shell with a brown paste, similar in appear-
ance to that with whose manufacture and em-
ployment we are already familiar.

Discouraged by a food which does not suit
them and perhaps also tried by a season of
exceptional drouth, my young potters soon
relinquish their task; they die after adding a
shallow rim to their pots.

Only the Long-legged Clythra thrives and
repays me amply for my troublesome nursing.
I provide it with chips of old bark taken from
the first tree to hand, the oak, the olive, the
fig-tree and many others. I soften them by
steeping them for a short time in water.
The cork-like crusts, however, are not what
my boarders eat. The actual food, the but-
ter on the bread, is on the surface. There is
a little here of all that the first beginnings of
vegetable life add to old tree-trunks, all that
breaks up decrepit age to turn it into perpe-
tual youth.

There are tufts of moss, hardly a twelfth
of an inch in height, which were sleeping

474

The Clythrae: The Egg

droughtily under the merciless sun of the
dog-days, but which a bath in a glass of water
awakens at once. They now display their
ring of green leaflets, brightened up and re-
stored to life for a few hours. There are
leprous efflorescences, with their white or yel-
low dust; tiny lichens radiating in ash-grey
straps and covered with glaucous, white-
edged shields, great round eyes that seem
to gaze from the depths of the limbo in
which dead matter comes to life again.
There are collemas, which, after a shower,
become dark and bloated and shake like
jellies; sphaerias, whose pustules stand out
like ebony teats, full of myriads of tiny sacs,
each containing eight pretty seeds. A glance
through the microscope at the contents of one
of these teats, a speck only just visible to the
eye, reveals an astounding world: an infinity
of procreative wealth in an atom. Ah, what
a beautiful thing life is, even on a chip of
rotten bark no bigger than a finger-nail!
What a garden ! What a treasure-house !

This is the best pasture put to the test.
My Clythra? graze upon it, gathering in
dense herds at the most luxuriant spots.
One would take this heap for pinches of some
brown, modelled seed or other, the snap-
dragon's, for instance; but these particular
475

The Glow- Worm and Other Beetles

seeds push and sway; if one of them moves
the least bit, the shells all clash together.
Others wander about, in search of a good
place, staggering and tumbling under the
weight of the overcoat; they wander at ran-
dom through that great and spacious world,
the bottom of my cup.

Not a fortnight has elapsed before a strip,
built up on the rim, has doubled the length
of the Long-legged Clythra's shell, in order
to maintain the capacity of the earthenware
jar in proportion to the size of the grub,
which has been growing from day to day.
The recent portion, the work of the larva,
is very plainly distinguishable from the ori-
ginal shell, the product of the mother; it is
smooth over its whole extent, whereas the
rest is ornamented with tiny holes arranged
in spiral rows.

Planed away inside as it becomes too tight,
the jar grows wider and at the same time
longer. The dust taken from it, once more
kneaded into mortar, is reapplied outside,
more or less everywhere, and forms a rubble
under which the original beauties end by dis-
appearing. The neatly-pitted masterpiece is
swamped by a layer of brown plasterwork;
not always entirely, however, even when the
structure reaches its final dimensions. If we
476

The Clythrae: The Egg

pass an attentive lens between the two humps
at the lower end, we very often see, en-
crusted in the earthy mass, the remains of the
shell of the egg. This is the potter's mark.
The arrangement of the spiral ridges, the
number and the shape of the pits enable us al-
most to read the name of the maker, Clythra
or Cryptocephalus.

From the very first I could not imagine the
worker in ceramic paste designing its own
pottery by drafting the first outlines. My
doubts were justified. The grubs of the
Clythra and the Cryptocephalus possess a
maternal legacy in the shape of a shell, a
garment which they have only to enlarge.
They are born the owners of a layette which
becomes the groundwork of their trousseau.
They increase it, without, however, imitating
its artistic elegance. A more vigorous age
discards the laces in which the mother de-
lights to clothe the new-born child.

477

INDEX

Acarus, 33, 44
Adder, 294, 296
JEgosomus scabricornus,

H7 .

Ammophila hirsuta (see
Hairy Ammophila), 96,
304

Andrena, 55, 85

Anoxia, 266

Ant, 294

Anthaxia nidulata, 216

Anthidium (see also the
varieties below), 180,
236, 280

Anthidium bellicosum, 180

Anthidium scafulare, 179

Anthophora (see also the
varieties below), 28, 30-
34. 37, 39-4i» 43-45, 53-
61, 63-71, 73-75, 77-82,
84, 88, 90, 93, 97, 100,
103-105, 107-110, 114,
126, 128, 131, 139, 151,
163, 176, 179

Anthophora parietina, 28,
86, 90

Anthophora personata (see
Masked Anthophora), 86

Anthophora pilipes (see
Hairy-footed Antho-

phora), 29, 64, 84, 86, 106

Anthophora retusa, 86

Anthrax (see A. sinuata),
30, 37, 158, 199

479

Anthrax sinuata, 30, 35
Anthrenus (see also A.

musaeorum), 33, 44
Anthrenus musaorum, 33
Ant-lion, 13, 366, 368
Asparagus-beetle, Aspara-
gus-grub (see also Field
Crioceris, Twelve-spotted
Crioceris), 436, 439
Audubon, John James, 348,

35o
Azure Hoplia, 274

B

Bacon-beetle (see Dermes-

tes), 294
Banded Epeira, 284
Bear (see also Cave-bear),

359-360, 400, 447
Beauregard, Dr., 161-162
Bee (see also Bumble-bee,
Hive-Bee, Mason-bee and
the varieties), 28-30, 34,
45. 53-54, 56-57, 59. 60-
65. 67, 70-71, 77, 79, 82,
85, 86, 88-90, 92, 97, 99,
101, 105, 106-108, no,
128, 141-142. 144, 154,
163, 176, 178, 278, 298
Bee-louse, 85
Beetle, passim, 7, 28, 31
Beetle's Gamasus, 314
Belle (see Spurge Hawk-
moth), 283

Index

Bernardin de Saint-pierre,
Jacques Henri, 235

Bison Onites, 245, 262

Blackbeetle, 388

Blackbeetle of the Sun (see
Sacred Beetle)

Black-bellied Lycosa (see
Black-bellied Tarantu-
la), 267

Black-bellied Tarantula,
267

Black Buprestis (see
Cloudy Buprestis), 386

Blatta (see Blackbeetle),
388

Blister-beetle (see also
Cantharides, Cerocoma,
Mylabris, Zonitis), 154,
161, 164

Bluebottle, 95-96, 100

Bolbites (see also B. Oni-
toides), 243, 268

Bolbites onitoides, 242

Bolboceras, 388

Bombardier Beetle, 358

Brachinus (see Bombardier
Beetle), 358

Brillat-Savarin (Anthel-
me), 2

Brilliant Buprestis, 387

Broken Bulimus, 456

Bronze Buprestis, 212

Bulimus (see also Broken
Bulimus), 451

Bumble-bee, 71

Buprestis (see also the va-
rieties), 186, 188, 212,
214-217, 219, 221, 224,
234, 274, 292-293, 381-
382, 384, 386

Buprestis aunea (see
Bronze Buprestis), 212

Buprestis octoguttata (see

480

Eight-spotted Buprestis),

2I5
Buprestis tenebrionis (see

Cloudy Buprestis), 385,

387
Burnt Zonitis, 179-181
Burying-beetle, 296, 306,

3H. 337 .
But/ius occitanus (see Lan-

guedocian Scorpion), 402
Butterfly, 100, 102, 177, 274

Calicurgus (see Ringed

Calicurgus), 267
Calliphora vomitoria (see

Bluebottle), 95
Calosoma sycophanta, 356—

357

Camel, 269

Cantharides, 164, 166, 169-
170, 290

Cant/ion bispinus, 261

Capnodis tenebrionis (see
Cloudy Buprestis), 381

Capricorn (see also the va-
rieties below), 186-189,
*93» I95-I99. 203-204,
209, 220, 237, 380, 439

Capricorn of the Cherry-
tree (see Cerambyx
cerdo), 207-208, 2IO-2H

Capricorn of the Oak (see
Capricorn), 209-211

Carabus (see also Golden
Carabus, Purple Cara-
bus), 274, 353, 355-357,
363-364, 376

Carrion-beetle (see Sil-
pha), 294

Cat, 307

Cave-bear, 450

Index

Cellar-beetle, 294, 297, 387—
388

Cerambyx (see the varie-
ties below), 188, 191,
194, »97» !99, 201, 204,

205, 2IO, 212, 2l6

Cerambyx cerdo, 207-208

Cerambyx miles (see Cap-
ricorn), 187

Cerceris, 304

Cerocoma (see also Schaef-
fer's Cerocoma, Schre-
ber's Cerocoma), 160-
161, 163, 169-170, 182-
183

Cetonia (see also Golden
Cetonia, C. floricola),
101, 189, 266, 274, 291,
388

Cetonia aurata (see Golden
Cetonia), 101

Cetonia floricola, 291

Chalcid (see also Gall-
fly), 428-429

Chalicodoma (see Mason-
bee), 136, 179

Chicken, 430

Chinese Carp, 306

Chrysobothrys chrysostig-
ma, 217

Chrysomela (see Golden
Apple-beetle), 274, 388

Cicada, 292, 366-368

Clairville, 298, 319, 325

Cleonus, 388

Clerus (see also the varie-
ties below), 33

Clerus alvearius, 33

Clerus apiarius, 33

Cloudy Buprestis, 382, 397,

399
Clythra (see also the vari-
eties below), 451-452,

481

456, 45M62. 465. 4<>8-
47i» 473, 475, 477

Clythra longimana, 462, 467

Clythra longipes (see Long-
legged Clythra), 459,
462, 466, 468-469, 474,
476

Clythra quadnpunctata

(see Four-spotted Cly-
thra), 459

Clythra sexmaculata (see
Six-spotted Clythra), 462

Clythra taxicornis (see
Taxicorn Clythra), 460

Clythus (see the varieties
below), 218

Clythus arietis, 218

Clythus arvicola, 218

Clythus tropicus, 218

Coccinella (see Ladybird),
388

Cockchafer (see also Com-
mon Cockchafer, Pine-
chafer), 355

Cockroach (see Blackbee-
tle), 388

Coelyoxis, 94, 95

Common Cockchafer, 368

Common Wasp, 71

Condillac, fitienne Bonnot
de, Abbe de Murwaux,
185, 194

Confucius, 408

Copris (see also Lunary
Copris, Spanish Copris),
237, 243, 258, 262, 266,
269, 289, 310, 347

Cotton-bee (see also Anthi-
dium scapular e), 180,
270

Cow, 243, 269

Crane-fly, 430

Cricket (see also Italian

Index

Cricket), 237, 275, 279,
316

Criocephalus ferus, 217

Crioceris (see also the va-
rieties below), 411-414,
418, 420-421, 423-424,
428, 432, 435, 441-4421
444-445. 450

Crioceris merdigera (see
Field Crioceris), 418

Crioceris duodecimpuncata
(see Twelve-spotted Cri-
oceris), 418

Crioceris merdiger a (see
Lily-beetle), 411

Crioceris paracenthesia, 444

Cryptocephalus ( see also
the varieties below), 451,
460, 462, 465, 467, 468-
469, 471, 477 .

Cryptocephalus bipunctatus
(see Two-spotted Cryp-
tocephalus, 460, 467-468,

473
Cryptocephalus tlicts (see

Ilex Cryptocephalus),

460
Cyclostome, 8

Darboun (see Mole), 302

Decticus (see also White-
faced Decticus), 237,
281-282, 316

Dermestes, 294-295, 297

Diogenes, 451

Dog, 195, 251

Donkey, 320

Drilus maroccanus, 8, 9

Drone-fly, 95-96, 100

Duck, 396

Dufour, Jean Marie Leon,
55, 85, 106

Dung-beetle, 239-240, 242,
245, 249-253, 263, 268-
274, 288, 317, 325, 347

E

Eight-spotted Buprestis, 215

Epeira (see Banded Epe-
ira), 284

Ephippiger of the Vines,
282

Eristalis tenax (see Drone-
fly), 95

Eumenes, 464

Fabre, Emile, the author's
son, 145-146

Fabre, Mile. Anna, the au-
thor's daughter, 391

Fabre, Paul, the author's
son, 303, 309

Field Crioceris, 418, 425,

.433, 442
Field-mouse, 296, 304, 452
Flamingo, 293
Fly (see also House-fly),

12, 30, 95, 101-102, 177,

199, 294, 360, 371, 375,

378-380, 420, 423, 425,

435-436
Foamy Cicadella, 439
Four-spotted Clythra, 459,

462, 466-467, 469
Four-spotted Mylabris, 162,

164, 173
Frog, 296, 299, 300, 332,

334, 337

Index

Gall-fly, 428

Geer, Baron Karl de, 87

Geotrupes (see also Mimic
Geotrupes, Stercoraceous
Geotrupes), 237, 245,
291-292, 314, 344, 347,
386

Giant Scarites, 362, 381-
382, 384, 396, 398

Gleditsch, Johann Gottlieb,

299, 334. 337
Glow-worm, I, 3, 4, 7-8,

10, 12-27
Gnat, 195, 269, 420, 430
Godart, Jean Baptiste, 87
Golden Apple-beetle, 388
Golden Beetle, 353, 355
Golden Carabus, 355
Golden Cetonia, 101
Golden Cryptocephalus,

460, 467-468, 470, 473
Golden Rose-chafer (see

Golden Cetonia), 101
Goldfish (see Chinese

Carp), 306
Goose, 396-397
Grasshopper (see also

Green Grasshopper),

154, 280, 282, 461
Great Capricorn (see Cap-
ricorn), 379
Great Peacock Moth, 356
Great Water-beetle, 278
Greenfinch, 360, 396
Green Grasshopper, 237,

357
Grey Worm (see Turnip

Moth), 96
Griffiths, A. B., 292
Gromphas (see Lacor-
483

daire's Gromphas), 244,
247, 256
Ground-beetle (see Cara-
bus), 293, 313, 447
Guinea-fowl, 395-396
Gymnopleurus, 289, 347

H

Hairy-footed Anthophora,
96, 106

Half-spotted Scarab, 369

Halictus, 176

Heliocantharus (see Sacred
Beetle), 271

Helix aspersa, 12

Helix explanata, 362

Helix variabilis, 3-4

Hemerobius (see Lace-
winged Fly), 463

Hen, 251, 257, 396, 470

Hermit-crab, 446

Hive-bee, 71, 100

Hoplia (see also Azure
Hoplia), 274, 388

Hornet, 68

Horse, 269

House-fly, 420

Humming-bird, 274, 293

Hunting Wasp, 7, 96, 252,
275, 278, 280, 304

Hydropbilus (see Great
Water-beetle), 278-279

Icterine Warbler, 469
Ilex Cryptocephalus, 460,

467
Italian Cricket, 236

Job, 187

Index

Judulien, Brother, 238

M

Kingfisher, 293

Kitten, 391

Kung (see Confucius), 409

Lace-winged Fly, 464
Lacordaire, Jean Theodore,

244, 298
La Fontaine, Jean de, 409
Lamb, 155
Lamellicorn, 129
Lampyris, L. noctiluca (see

Glow-worm), 1-3, 5-6,

8-9, n-12, 15
Land-snail (see Bulimus,

Helix, Snail), 451
Languedocian Scorpion,

402
Lark, 25

Latreille's Osmia, 179
Leaf-cutter (see Mega-
chile), 180, 236
Lily-beetle, 411, 413, 418,

424, 434, 436, 439, 440,

445-446
Lizard, 292, 294, 296, 332,

345
Llama, 269
Loach, 392-393
Locust, 154, 161, 282, 360,

393, 461
Louse, 59, 85, 106, 128, 144,

320
Lunary Copris, 240, 262
Lycosa (see Black-bellied

Tarantula), 267

484

Macleay (William Sharp),
271

Maistre, Xavier de, 236,
238

Malachius, 100

Mantis (see Praying Man-
tis), 145-146, H9, 15°-
154, 160-161, 163, 316

Masked Anthophora, 86

Mason-bee (see also An-
thophora and the varie-
ties below), 72, 75, 86,

93, i°4, 136
Mason-bee of the Sheds,

136
Mason-bee of the Walls,

136
Megachile (see also M. se-

rtcans), 187, 236, 269
Megachile sericans, 180
Megatherium, 269
Megathopa (see also the

varieties below), 242, 268
Megathopa bicolor, 241
Megathopa intermedia, 241
Melecta, 94-95
Melecta armata, 36
Meloe (see Oil-beetle and

the varieties below), 56,

84-86, 88-89, 91, 93-97,

99-101, 103-108, 128,

1 34-1 3 5, 141-143, 157
Meloe cicatricosus, 86, 104,

106, 128, 149
Meloe proscar abaus, 87
Meloid (see also Blister-
beetle, Cantharides, Ce-
rocoma, Mylabris, Zoni-
tis), 135, 141, 144-146,
»49, 154, 157-158, 160-

Index

x6i, 165-166, 174, 179.
183

Melosoma (see also Omo-
crates abbreviates), 387

Miall, Bernard, vii

Midge, 420, 422-424, 430

Mimic Geotrupes, 273, 291

Mite, 103

Mole, 252, 294-297, 301,
304-310, 313, 3J9» 328-
332. 335-337, 34i, 345"
346

Mosquito, 447

Mouse (see also Field-
mouse, Shrew-mouse),
298, 306, 314, 319-326,

333-334. 338-343
Mylabris (see also Four-
spotted Mylabris, Twelve-
spotted Mylabris), 160,
171, 173, 176

N

Narbonne Lycosa (see
Black-bellied Tarantula),
267

Necrophorus (see Burying-
beetle, N. vestigator),
2511 297-299, 301, 303-
308, 310-3", 3I3-3I7,
319, 321, 324-329, 331"
332, 335, 337-338, 341-
343, 345-347

Necrophorus vestigator,
296, 301

Newport, George, 56, 85-
87, 89, 91-92, 105-106,
108, 130, 133

Nightingale, 469

Nine-spotted Buprestis, 213,

485

Odynerus, 28

Oil-beetle, 56, 84-93, 101,
105-106, 109, 130, 132-
135, x44, x46, H8, IS»i
154-155, 173-174, x76-
177, 182-183, 203

Onitis (see also the vane-
ties below), 242, 245,
264, 289

Onitis bison (see Bison
Onitis), 245, 262

Onitis Olivierii (see Oliv-
ier's Onitis), 250

Onthophagus (see also
Oval Onthophagus), 252
261, 273, 289

Onthophagus ovatus (see
Oval Onthophagus), 252

Oryctes, O. nasicornis (see
Rhinoceros Beetle), 266,

355 / , L

Osmia (see also the varie-
ties below), 32-34, 36-
37, 56, 65, 108, 136, 138,
179, 186, 316

Osmia Latreillii (see Lat-
reille's Osmia), 136

Osmia tricornis (see Three-
horned Osmia), 31, 64,
136

Osmia tridentata (see
Three-pronged. Osmia),
136

Oval Onthophagus, 263

Ovid, 470

Owl (see also Virginian
Owl), 251

Ox, 240, 268-269, 355

Peacock, 293

Index

Peacock Moth {see Great
Peacock Moth), 356

Pediculus apis {see Bee-
louse), 85

Pelopaeus, 203, 266

Pepsis, 267

Phanaus {see the varieties
below), 240, 258, 290,
292

Phanaus festivus, 264

Phartaus Milon, 249, 252,
254-256, 264-265

Phanaus splendidulus {see
Splendid Phanaeus), 239,
265, 268, 273, 289

pigeon {see also Wood-
pigeon), 396

Pimelia {see also P. bipunc-
tata), 363-364, 369, 376-

377, 387
Pine-chafer, 355, 357, 368
Pompilus {see Ringed Cali-

curgus), 267, 304
Praying Manits, 155, 162,

236
Procrustes coriaceus, 353—

354. 357
Ptosima Novemmaculata

{see Nine-spotted Bupres-

tis), 213, 387
Purple Carabus, 353

R

Rabbit, 252, 341

Rat {see Brown Rat,

Sewer-rat), 312-313
Reaumur, Rene Antoine

Ferchault de, 283, 320,

413, 416
Resin-bee {see Anthidium

bellicosum), 180
Rhinoceros Beetle, 355-357

486

Rhynchites, 411
Ringed Calicurgus, 267
Rose-chafer {see Cetonia,

Golden Cetonia), 368
Rousseau, Jean Jacques,

235
Rove-beetle {see Staphy-

linus), 295

Sacred Beetle, 237, 241-
242, 250-251, 258, 260,
262, 266, 269, 271, 288,
290-291, 325, 347, 376-
377

Saperda {see the varieties
below), 212

Sapeda carcharias {see
Shagreen Saperda), 211

Saperda of the Poplar {see
Scalary Saperda), 211

Saperda scalaris {see Sca-
lary Saperda), 211

Saprinus, 295

Sapyga {see Spotted Sap-
yga), 155

Saw-fly {see Sirex), 223

Scalary Saperda, 211

Scarab {see Half-spotted
Scarab, Sacred Beetle),
271

Scarabreus {see Sacred Bee-
tle), 289

Scarites {see Giant Scar-
ites, Smooth - skinned
Scarites), 363, 365-368,

370, 372-373, 375, 378-

380, 387
Schaeffer's Cerocoma, 160,

162-165
Schreber's Cerocoma, 161
Scolia, 155, 203, 266
Scorpion {see also Langue-

Index

docian Scorpion), 402-
405. 407-408

Sea-snail, 446

Sewer-rat, 304

Shagreen Saperda, 211

Sheep, 243, 269

Shell-bearing Slug (see
Testacella), 354

Shrew-mouse, 296, 304

Silky Leaf-cutter {see Me-
gachile sericans), 180

Silpha, 294-295, 297, 388

Sirex (see also the varie-
ties below), 223, 226-
231, 234

Sirex augur, 223

Sirex gigas, 231

Sirex juvencus, 231

Sisyphus, 261-262, 347

Sitaris (see also S. hume-
ralis), 31, 36-37. 39, 40,
43, 50-61, 63-67, 74-82,
85-88, 97-98, 105-107,
109-110, 114, 116, 11S-
120, 127-135, 138, 141-
144, 146, 148, 151, 154,
157. 171. 73-174, 176-
178, 182, 203, 439

Sitaris humeralis, 30, 58

Six-spotted Clythra, 462

Slug (see also Testacella),

3S4
Smooth-skinned Scarites,

377, 396
Snail (see also Bulimus,
Helix), 3-6, 10-12, 14-
I5> 48, 353-355, 362, 447,
455
Snake, 304

Spanish Copris, 239, 241
Sparrow, 314, 341, 343, 360
Sphex (see also White-
banded Sphex, Yellow-

487

winged Sphex), 203, 267,

278-279, 304
Spider, 30-31, 39, 44, 101-

102, 177, 284-286
Spotted Sapyga, 155
Spurge Hawk-moth, 282,

287-288
Stag-beetle, 364
Staphylinus, 295
Stercoraceous Geotrupes,

273, 291, 385
Stromatium strep ens, 218
Swallow, 430

Tachina, 421-424, 426, 428,
433, 435-436, 448

Tachytes (see also T. tar-
sina), 145-146, 149, 151-
152, 154-155, 160-162,
164

Tachytes tarsina, 161

Tarantula (see Black-bel-
lied Tarantula), 267

Taxicorn Clythra, 460, 462-
464, 469, 473-474

Teixeira de Mattos, Alex-
ander, 7, 28, 30, 55, 189,
237, 266

Testacella, 354

Thomas the Apostle, Saint,
411

Three-horned Osmia, 64

Three-pronged Osmia, 233

Tick (see also Beetle's
Gamasus), 314

Triungulin of the Andrenae,
Triungulinus (see T. an-
drenetarum) , 56

Triungulinus andreneta-
rum, 85

Turkey, 348-350, 393~398

Index

Turnip, Moth, 96
Twelve-spotted Crioceris,
418, 425-426, 428-429.

434 ■ .

Twelve-spotted Mylabns,

162, 164, 173-174. 178
U
Unarmed Zonitis, 181
V

Valery-Mayer, Professor,

250
Vespa crebro (see Hornet),

68
Virginian Owl, 350

W

Warbler (see Icterine
Warbler), 469

Wasp (see also Common
Wasp, Hunting Wasp
and the other varieties),
7, 28, 69, 71, 145, 278,
298

Water-beetle (see Great

Water-beetle), 278
Weevil, 149, 157, 388, 411
Wheatear, 469
White-banded Sphex, 267
White-faced Decticus, 280,

357
White Scorpion (see Lan-

guedocian Scorpion), 402,

404
Wolf, 155, 355
Wood-pigeon, 293

Yellow-winged Sphex, 275
Z

Zonitis (see also the vari-
eties below), 138, 141-
143, 148, 154, 164-165,
171, 179-180, 182-183

Zonitis mutica (see Un-
armed Zonitis), 138, 164,
179, 181

Zonitis prausta (see Burnt
Zonitis), 179

*x&

QL Fabre, Jean Henri Casimir

576 The glow-worm and other

F333 beetles

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