THE PINE PROCESSIONARY 133 



torpor, revive and start walking again. The circular 

 procession begins anew, like that which I have already 

 seen. There is nothing more and nothing less to be 

 noted in their machine-like obstinacy. 



This time it is a bitter night. A cold snap has super- 

 vened, was indeed foretold in the evening by the garden 

 caterpillars, who refused to come out despite appearances 

 which to my duller senses seemed to promise a continu- 

 ation of the fine weather. At daybreak the rosemary- 

 walks are all asparkle with rime and for the second time 

 this year there is a sharp frost. The large pond in the 

 garden is frozen over. What can the caterpillars in the 

 conservatory be doing? Let us go and see. 



All are ensconced in their nests, except the stubborn 

 processionists on the edge of the vase, who, deprived 

 of shelter as they are, seem to have spent a very bad 

 night. I find them clustered in two heaps, without any 

 attempts at order. They have suffered less from the 

 cold, thus huddled together. 



'Tis an ill wind that blows nobody any good. The 

 severity of the night has caused the ring to break into 

 two segments which will, perhaps, afford a chance of 

 safety. Each group, as it survives and resumes its walk, 

 will presently be headed by a leader who, not being 

 obliged to follow a caterpillar in front of him, will 

 possess some liberty of movement and perhaps be able 

 to make the procession swerve to one side. Remember 

 that, in the ordinary processions, the caterpillar walking 

 ahead acts as a scout. While the others, if nothing 

 occurs to create excitement, keep to their ranks, he at- 



