10 THE LIFE AND LOVE OF THE INSECT 



the first opportunity. To make one's own ball at the heap 

 implies drudgery and patience ; to steal one ready-made, 

 or at least to foist one's self as a guest, is a much easier 

 matter. Should the owner's vigilance slacken, you can 

 run away with the treasure ; should you be too closely 

 watched, you can sit down to table uninvited, pleading 

 services rendered. It is, " Heads I win, tails you lose," 

 in these tactics, so that pillage is exercised as one of the 

 most lucrative of trades. Some go to work craftily, in 

 the way I have just described : they come to the aid of 

 a comrade who has not the least need of them and hide 

 a most indelicate greed under the cloak of charitable 

 assistance. Others, bolder perhaps, more confident in 

 their strength, go straight to the goal and commit robbery 

 with violence. 



Scenes are constantly happening such as this : a Scarab 

 walks off, peacefully and alone, rolling his ball, his law- 

 ful property, acquired by conscientious work. Another 

 comes flying up, I know not whence, drops down heavily, 

 folds his smoky wings under their elytra and, with the 

 back of his toothed armlets, knocks over the owner, who is 

 powerless to ward off the attack in his harnessed posture. 

 While the dispossessed one struggles to his feet, the other 

 perches himself atop the ball, the best position from which 

 to repel the assailant. With his armlets folded under 

 his breast, ready at all points, he awaits events. The 

 victim of the theft moves round the ball, seeking a 

 favourable spot at which to attempt the assault ; the 

 thief spins round on the roof of the citadel, constantly 

 facing him. If the first raise himself in order to scale 

 the wall, the second gives him a cuff that stretches him 

 on his back. Safe at the top of his fortress, the besieged 

 Beetle would baffle his adversary's attempts indefinitely, 



