THE ONTHOPHAGI 83 



drives well in and pulls out with a sample taken from 

 the middle of the cheese. The Onthophagus, when col- 

 lecting for her grub, goes to work as though equipped 

 with one of these tasters. She bores an exactly round 

 hole into the piece which she is exploiting ; she goes 

 straight to the middle, where the material, not being 

 exposed to the contact of the air, has kept more savoury 

 and pliable. Here and here alone are gathered the 

 armfuls which, gradually stowed away, kneaded and 

 heaped up to the requisite extent, fill the sack to the top. 

 Finally, a plug of the same mortar, the sides of which 

 are made partly of sand and partly of stercoral cement, 

 roughly closes the cell, in such a way that an outward in- 

 spection does not allow one to distinguish front from back. 



To judge the work and its merit, we must open it. A 

 large empty space, oval in shape, occupies the rear end. 

 This is the birth-chamber, huge in dimensions compared 

 with its content, the egg fixed on the wall, sometimes 

 at the bottom of the cell and sometimes on the side. The 

 egg is a tiny white cylinder, rounded at either end and 

 measuring a millimetre^ in length immediately after it 

 is laid. With no other support than the spot on which 

 the oviduct has planted it, it stands on its hind-end and 

 projects into space. 



A more or less enquiring glance is quite surprised to 

 find so small a germ contained in so large a box. What 

 does that tiny egg want with all that space ? When 

 carefully examined within, the walls of the chamber 

 prompt another question. They are coated with a fine 

 greenish pap, semi-fluid and shiny, the appearance of 

 which does not agree with the outward or inward aspect 

 of the lump from which the insect has extracted its 



1 -039 inch.— Translator's Note. 



