NEAR VIEWS OF WILD LIFE 



does n't know just where it wants to go, but it 

 finally strikes a small sugar maple and humps up 

 that. By chance it strikes one of the branches six 

 feet from the ground and goes looping up that. 

 Then, by chance, in its aimless Teachings it hits one 

 of three small branches and climbs that a foot or 

 more, and a dry twig, six or eight inches long, is 

 seized and explored. At the end of it the creature 

 tarries a minute or more, reaching out in the empty 

 space, then turns back and hits a smaller twig on 

 this twig about an inch long. This it explores over 

 and over and sounds the depths that surround it, 

 then loops back again to the end of the main twig 

 it has just explored, profiting nothing by experience; 

 then retraces its steps and measures off another 

 small branch, and is finally lost to sight amid the 

 leaves. 



Has the course of life up through geologic time 

 been in any way like this? There has been the 

 push of life, the effort to get somewhere, but has 

 there been no more guiding principle than in the 

 case of this worm? The singular thing about the 

 worm is its incessant reachings forth into surround- 

 ing space, searching, searching, sounding, sounding, 

 as if to be sure that no chance to make a new con- 

 nection is missed. 



Finally the black worm comes to rest and, cling- 

 ing by its hind feet, lets itself down and simulates 

 a small dry twig, in which disguise it would deceive 



93 



