The Botanical Instinct 



and everywhere, under the scales of the 

 cracked bark, probing, feeling, choosing the 

 propitious spots. Each time, an egg is laid, 

 almost without protection. This done, she 

 has no further anxiety. 



The grub of Cetonia floricola, breaking its 

 shell, some time in August, In the depths of 

 the leaf-mould, goes to feed on the flowers 

 and there idly slumbers; then, an adult Rose- 

 chafer, she returns to the heap of rotten 

 leaves, enters it and sows her eggs in the 

 hottest places, those where fermentation 

 rages most fiercely. Let us not ask anything 

 further from her: her talents end with this. 



So It is, in the vast majority of cases, with 

 the other insects, weak or powerful, lowly 

 or splendid. They all know where the eggs 

 must be established, but they are profoundly 

 indifferent to what will follow. It is for 

 the grub to muddle through by its own 

 methods. The Pine Cockchafer's larva 

 dives farther Into the sand, seeking for 

 tender rootlets softened by incipient decay. 

 The Capricorn's, continuing to drag the 

 shell of its egg behind it, nibbles the uneat- 

 able for its first mouthful, making flour of 

 the dead bark and sinking a shaft that leads 

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