8 INSECT LIFE i 



has to cross a slope, and the heavy ball would 

 naturally follow the incline, but for reasons best 

 known to itself, the insect prefers to cross this natu- 

 ral slope — an audacious plan, which one false step 

 or a grain of sand to upset the balance will defeat. 

 The false step is made, the ball rolls to the bottom of 

 the valley, and the insect, upset by the impetus of its 

 load, staggers, gets again on its legs, and hastens to 

 harness itself afresh. The mechanism works capi- 

 tally. But look out, scatterbrain ! follow the hollow 

 of the valley, it will spare labour and misadventure. 

 The road is good and quite level, and your ball will 

 roll along with no exertion. Not a bit of it. The 

 insect has made up its mind to remount the slope 

 already so fatal to it. Perhaps it suits it to return 

 to the heights. Against that I have nothing to say, 

 the Scarabseus knows better than I do whether it be 

 advisable to dwell in lofty regions. At all events, 

 take this path which will lead you up by a gentle 

 incline. Not at all. If there be near at hand some 

 very stiff slope impossible to climb, then that 

 slope this wrong-headed insect prefers. Then 

 begins the labour of Sisyphus. With endless pre- 

 cautions the monstrous load is painfully hoisted, 

 step by step to a certain height, the beetle always 

 going tail first. One asks one's self by what miracle 

 of statics such a mass can be kept on the slope. 

 Ah ! a clumsy movement brings all this toil to 

 naught. Down goes the ball, dragging the beetle 

 with it. The escalade is repeated, soon followed by 

 a fresh fall. The attempt is renewed, and better 

 managed at the difficult points ; a nasty grass-root, 

 which occasioned the previous tumbles, is prudently 



