The Life of the Fly 



den. It appears to be the work of several 

 days thus to divide the total laying and to 

 distribute it at different points. 



I carefully raise the animal under which 

 these things are happening. The egg-laying 

 mothers do not disturb themselves; they are 

 far too busy. Their ovipositor extended 

 telescope-fashion, they heap egg upon egg. 

 With the point of their hesitating, groping 

 instrument, they try to lodge each germ, as 

 it comes, farther into the mass. Around the 

 serious, red-eyed matrons, the Ants circle, in- 

 tent on pillage. Many of them make off with 

 a Greenbottle-egg between their teeth. I see 

 some who, greatly daring, effect their theft un- 

 der the ovipositor itself. The layers do not put 

 themselves out, let the Ants have their way, 

 remain impassive. They know their womb 

 to be rich enough to make good any such lar- 

 ceny. 



Indeed, what escapes the depredations of 

 the Ants promises a plenteous brood. Let us 

 come back a few days later and lift the Mole 

 again. Underneath, in a pool of sanies, is a 

 surging mass of swarming sterns and pointed 

 heads, which emerge, wriggle and dive in 

 again. It suggests a seething billow. It turns 

 one's stomach. It is horrible, most horrible. 



222 



