1 THE SACRED BEETLE 5 



indeed a piece of good fortune, and only comes to 

 the lucky. So when found, the wealth is prudently 

 stored. The smell has carried the good news a 

 couple of miles round, and all have rushed to 

 gather up provender. Some laggards are still 

 coming in on the wing or on foot. 



What is the one now trotting towards the heap, 

 fearing to arrive too late ? His long legs work with 

 a brusque, awkward action, as if moved by some 

 machine inside him ; his little red antennae spread 

 their fans — sure sign of anxious greediness. He is 

 coming, has arrived, not without upsetting some of 

 the guests. It is the Sacred Beetle, all in black, the 

 largest and most celebrated of our dung beetles. 



Here he is at table, beside his fellow-guests, who 

 are giving last touches to their balls with the flat of 

 their large front legs, or enriching them with a last 

 layer before retiring to enjoy the fruit of their 

 labours in peace. Let us follow this famous ball 

 in each stage of construction. 



The edge of the beetle's head is large and flat, 

 and armed with six angular teeth arranged in a 

 semicircle. It is the tool for digging and dividing, 

 the rake to lift or reject such vegetable fibres as are 

 not nutritious, to seek out what is best and rake it 

 together. A choice is thus made, for these keen 

 connoisseurs like one thing better than another — a 

 somewhat careless choice, indeed, if the beetle alone 

 be concerned, but one which is rigorously scrupulous 

 if the maternal ball be in question, with its central 

 hollow where the egg will hatch. Then every scrap 

 of fibre is rejected, and only the quintessence of the 

 stercorous matter is used to build the inner layer of 



