6 INSECT LIFE i 



the cell. Then, as soon as it is hatched, the young 

 larva finds in the walls of its dwelling a dainty food 

 which strengthens digestion and enables it later to 

 attack the coarse outer layers. For its own needs 

 the beetle is less fastidious, contenting itself with 

 a general selection. The toothed head hollows and 

 seeks, rejects and gathers, somewhat at haphazard. 

 The forelegs aid mightily. They are flattened, bent 

 into the arc of a circle, are furnished with strong 

 nerves and armed with five stout teeth. If an 

 effort has to be made, an obstacle overthrown, a 

 path forced through the thickest part of the heap, 

 the dung beetle elbows its way ; in other words, 

 throws its toothed legs right and left, and clears a half 

 circle with a vigorous sweep of its rake. Room 

 being made, these same feet have a new task ; they 

 collect bundles of the material raked up by the 

 head, and pass it under the insect to the four hind- 

 feet. These are planned for the turner's trade. The 

 legs, especially the last pair, are long and slender, 

 slightly bent in an arc, and ending in a very sharp 

 spur or talon. A glance shows that they form a 

 spherical compass, capable of holding a globe in the 

 bent legs to verify and correct its shape. In fact, 

 their mission is to shape the ball. Bundle after 

 bundle the material accumulates under the insect, 

 held between the four legs which by a slight pressure 

 lend it their own curve and something of shape. 

 Then from time to time the rough hewn ball is set 

 in motion between the legs of the double spherical 

 compass, turned underneath the beetle, and rolled 

 into a perfect sphere. Should the outer layer fail 

 in plasticity and threaten to scale off, or if some 



