CHAPTER V 



THE PINE PROCESSIONARY : THE MOTH 



WHEN March comes, the caterpillars 

 reared in domesticity never cease pro- 

 cessioning. Many leave the greenhouse, 

 which remains open; they go in search of a 

 suitable spot for the approaching metamor- 

 phosis. This is the final exodus, the definite 

 abandonment of the nest and the pine-tree. 

 The pilgrims are much faded, whitish, with 

 a few russet hairs on their backs. 



On the 20th of March I spend a whole 

 morning watching the evolutions of a file 

 some three yards in length, containing about 

 a hundred emigrants. The procession toils 

 grimly along, undulating over the dusty 

 ground, where it leaves a furrow. Then it 

 breaks into a small number of groups, which 

 crowd together and remain quiescent save for 

 sudden oscillations of the hind-quarters. 

 After a halt of varying duration, these groups 

 resume their march, henceforward forming 

 independent processions. 



They take no settled direction. This one 



III 



