32 INSECT LIFE n 



school had they sought for what I had described, 

 but in vain. Some balls, found underground with 

 the Scarabseus, were brought, but they were mere 

 heaps of food, and there was no grub. Fresh ex- 

 planations were given and a new appointment was 

 made for the following Thursday. Again the same 

 want of success. The seekers, discouraged, were now 

 few. I made a last appeal, but nothing came of it. 

 Finally, I paid the most zealous, those who had been 

 faithful to the last, and we dissolved partnership. I 

 could count on no one but myself for researches, which 

 seemed simple enough, but really were exceedingly 

 difficult. Even up to the present time, after many 

 years, excavations made in favourable spots and 

 hopeful opportunities have not yet given any clear, 

 consistent result. I am reduced to combining 

 incomplete observations and to filling up gaps by 

 analogy.^ The little which I have seen, together 

 with observations on other dung beetles — Gymno- 

 pleurus, Copris, and Onthophagus — in my enclosure 

 is summed up in the following statement. 



The ball destined for the egg is not fashioned in 

 public, in the hurry-scurry of the general workshop. 

 It is a work of art and much patience, demanding 

 minute care impossible amid a crowd. One must 

 retire to meditate one's plans and set to work, so 

 the mother makes a hollow from four to eight inches 

 deep in the sand. It is a rather spacious hall, 

 communicating with the outside by a much narrower 

 gallery. The insect carries down choice materials, 

 no doubt first rolled into pellets. She must make 



1 Fabre subsequently completed the whole life-history and published 

 it in the fifth series of his Souvenirs (1897). 



