THE STORM 151 



Uncle Paul cut a branch bearing a magnificent nest. 

 He had guessed right: all the caterpillars had re- 

 turned to their lodging, perhaps in prevision of bad 

 weather. Then they sat in the shade of a group of 

 pines, to rest a little before returning. Naturally 

 they talked about caterpillars. 



"The processionaries, you told me," said Jules, 

 ' 'leave their nests to scatter over the pines and 

 eat the leaves. There are, in fact, a great many 

 branches almost reduced to sticks of dry wood. 

 Look at that pine I am pointing at ; it is half stripped 

 of leaves, as if fire had passed over it. I like the 

 way the processionaries travel, but I can't help pity- 

 ing those fine tree's that wither under the miserable 

 caterpillar's teeth." 



"If the owner of these pines understood his inter- 

 ests better," returned Uncle Paul, "he would, in the 

 winter, when the caterpillars are assembled in their 

 silk bags, have the nests collected and burn them, in 

 order to destroy the detestable breed that will gnaw 

 the young shoots, browse the buds, and arrest the 

 tree's development. The harm is much greater in 

 our orchards. Various caterpillars live in com- 

 panies on our fruit trees and spin nests in the same 

 way as the processionaries. When summer comes, 

 tin' starveling vermin scatter all over the trees, de- 

 stroying leaves, buds, shoots. In a few hours the 

 orchard is shorn and the crop is destroyed in its 

 1 >u<l(ling. So it is necessary to keep a careful look- 

 out for caterpillar nests, remove them from the tree 

 before spring, and burn them, so that nothing can es- 

 cape ; the future of the crop depends on it. It is for- 



