The Life of the Caterpillar 



Apart from sight and smell, what remains 

 to guide them in returning to the nest? The 

 ribbon spun on the road. In the Cretan laby- 

 rinth, Theseus would have been lost but for 

 the clue of thread with which Ariadne sup- 

 plied him. The spreading maze of the pine- 

 needles is, especially at night, as inextricable 

 a labyrinth as that constructed for Minos. 

 The Processionary finds his way through it, 

 without the possibility of a mistake, by the 

 aid of his bit of silk. At the time for going 

 home, each easily recovers either his own 

 thread or one or other of the neighbouring 

 threads, spread fanwise by the diverging herd; 

 one by one the scattered tribe line up on the 

 common ribbon, which started from the nest ; 

 and the sated caravan finds its way back to 

 the manor with absolute certainty. 



Longer expeditions are made in the day- 

 time, even in winter, if the weather be fine. 

 Our caterpillars then come down from the 

 tree, venture on the ground, march in proces- 

 sion for a distance of thirty yards or so. The 

 object of these sallies is not to look for food, 

 for the native pine-tree is far from being ex- 

 hausted: the shorn branches hardly count amid 

 the vast leafage. Moreover, the caterpillars 

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