The Life of the Caterpillar 



goes forward, that one goes back; one turns 

 to the left and another to the right. There 

 is no rule about their marching, no positive 

 goal. One procession, after describing a loop, 

 retraces its steps. Yet there is a general tend- 

 ency towards that wall of the greenhouse 

 which faces the south and reflects the sun's 

 rays with added fervour. The sole guide, it 

 would seem, is the amount of sun which a 

 place obtains; the directions whence the great- 

 est heat comes are preferred. 



After a couple of hours of marching and 

 countermarching, the fragmentary proces- 

 sions, comprising each a score of caterpillars, 

 reach the foot of the wall. Here the soil 

 is powdery, very dry, easy to burrow in, al- 

 though made somewhat firmer by tufts of 

 grass. The caterpillar at the head of the row 

 explores with his mandibles, digs a little, in- 

 vestigates the nature of the ground. The 

 others, trusting their leader, follow him with 

 docility, making no attempts of their own. 

 Whatever the foremost decides will be 

 adopted by all. Here, in the choice of a mat- 

 ter so important as the spot whereat the trans- 

 formation shall take place, there is no in- 

 dividual initiative. There is only one will, 



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