The Sacred Beetle and Others 



days. Thanks to the added substance with 

 which the egg has been enriched, the larva 

 is already pretty big when born. We have 

 not here the weakly grub, the animated speck 

 which many insects show us, but a pretty little 

 creature, at once sturdy and tender, which, 

 happy at being alive, arches its back and 

 frisks and rolls about in its nest. 



It is satin-white, with a touch of straw- 

 colour on its skull-cap. I find the terminal 

 trowel plainly marked: I mean that slanting 

 plane with the scalloped edge whereof the 

 Sacred Beetle has already shown us the use 

 when some breach in the cell needs repairing. 

 The implement tells us the future trade. 

 You also, my attractive little grub, will be- 

 come a knapsacked excreter, a fervent 

 plasterer manipulating the stucco supplied by 

 the intestines. But first I will subject you 

 to an experiment. 



Now what are your first mouthfuls? As 

 a rule I see the walls of your nest shining 

 with a greenish, semifluid wash, a sort of 

 thinly-spread jam. Is this a special dish in- 

 tended for your delicate baby stomach? Is 

 it a childish dainty disgorged by the mother? 

 I used to think so when I first began to study 

 the Sacred Beetle. To-day, after seeing a 

 similar wash in the cells of the various Dung- 



