THE SACRED BEETLE 5 



awkward action, as though driven by some mechanism 

 within his belly ; his little red antennae spread their fan, 

 a sign of anxious greed. He is coming, he has come, 

 not without sending some few banqueters sprawling. It is 

 the Sacred Beetle, clad all in black, the biggest and most 

 famous of our Dung-beetles. Ancient Egypt held him 

 in veneration and looked upon him as a symbol of im- 

 mortality. Here he now sits at table, beside his fellow- 

 guests, each of whom is givmg the last touches to his ball 

 with the fiat of his broad fore-legs or else enriching it 

 with yet one more layer before retiring to enjoy the fruit 

 of his labours in peace. Let us follow the construction 

 of the famous ball in all its phases. 



The shield, that is to say, the broad, flat edge of the 

 head, is notched with six angular teeth arranged in a 

 semicircle. This constitutes the tool for digging and 

 separating, the rake that lifts and casts aside the unnu- 

 tritious vegetable fibres, goes for something better, scrapes 

 and collects it together. A choice is thus made, for 

 these dainty epicures differentiate between one thing 

 and another : a casual choice, if the Beetle be interested 

 in his own provender, but a most scrupulous choice, 

 when it becomes a question of constructing the maternal 

 ball. 



For his own needs, the Beetle is less fastidious and 

 contents himself with a wholesale selection. The notched 

 shield scoops and digs, eliminates and gathers somewhat 

 at random. The fore-legs play a mighty part in the 

 work. They are flattened, curved into the segment of 

 a circle, supplied with powerful nervures and armed on 

 the outside with five sturdy teeth. If a powerful effort 

 be needed to remove an obstacle or to force a way through 

 the thickest part of the heap, the Dung-beetle makes 



