8 THE LIFE AND LOVE OF THE INSECT 



its undoing. Perhaps it suits it to return to the heights. 

 Against that I have nothing to say : the Scarab's opinion 

 is more far-seeing than mine as to the advisability of 

 keeping to lofty regions. But, at least, take this path, 

 which will lead you up by a gentle incline ! Not at all ! 

 If he find himself near some very steep slope, impos- 

 sible to climb, that is what the obstinate fellow prefers. 

 And now begins a labour of Sisyphus. The ball, that 

 enormous burden, is painfully hoisted, step by step, with 

 infinite precautions, to a certain height, always back- 

 wards. I ask myself by what static miracle so great a 

 mass can be kept upon the slope. Oh ! An iU-planned 

 movement frustrates all this toil : the ball comes down, 

 dragging the beetle with it ! The escalade is repeated, 

 soon to be followed by another fall. The attempt is re- 

 newed, better-managed this time at the difficult points ; 

 a confounded grass-root, the cause of the previous 

 tumbles, is carefully turned. We are almost there ; but 

 gently, gently ! The ascent is dangerous and a mere 

 nothing may yet spoil all. For see, a leg slips on a smooth 

 bit of gravel ! Down come ball and Dung-beetle, all 

 mixed up together. And the Beetle begins over again, 

 with indefatigable persistency. Ten times, a score of 

 times, he will attempt the thankless ascent, until his 

 obstinacy vanquishes all obstacles, or until, recognizing 

 the uselessness of his efforts, he takes to the level road. 

 The Scarab does not always push his precious ball 

 alone : sometimes he takes a partner ; or, to be accurate, 

 the partner takes him. This is how the thing usually 

 happens : once his ball is ready, a Dung-beetle issues from 

 the crowd and leaves the work-yard, pushing his spoil 

 behind him. A neighbour, one of the newcomers, whose 

 own task is hardly begun, suddenly drops his work and 



