The Vine-Weevil 



sun, the Rhynchites' victuals remain as soft 

 as need be. 



Thus I argued, meditating a fresh experi- 

 ment; and the facts confirmed the accuracy 

 of my forecast. This time all goes well. 

 Rather than the green rolls of recent 

 manufacture, I gather the brown cigars which 

 are due to fall to the ground. The larvae 

 in these latter, being older, are less difficult 

 to rear. Lastly, my harvest is installed in 

 glass jars as before, but on a bed of moist 

 sand. With this and this alone I achieve 

 complete success. 



Despite the mildew which this time 

 invades the heaped cigars and seems bound 

 to jeopardize everything, the larvae thrive 

 and grow without hindrance. The decay 

 which I distrusted so much in the beginning, 

 when I kept my crops dry to avoid it, this 

 decay suits them. I see them taking big 

 mouthfuls of decomposing shreds, the tainted 

 remains of leaves that have almost turned 

 to mould. 



I am no longer surprised that in my first 

 experiments my nurselings allowed them- 

 selves to die of hunger. Obeying a mistaken 

 167 



