An Unknown Sense 



portion to its strength. Sight, therefore, is 

 certainly out of the question here. 



What sense then? That of touch? Let 

 us enquire. Everything tells us that the or- 

 gans of search are the antennae. With their 

 tips, bent like a bow and quivering with a 

 continual vibration, the insect tests the 

 ground, giving a number of little taps. 

 When some crack shows, the restless threads 

 enter and sound it; when some grass-tuft 

 spreads its tangled root-stock along the 

 ground, the quivering of the antennae re- 

 doubles as they grope among its knots and 

 angles. Their tips are applied for an instant 

 to the spot explored, moulding themselves, so 

 to speak, upon it. They suggest two tactile 

 filaments, two long fingers of incomparable 

 mobility, which gather information by feel- 

 ing. But the sense of touch can play no part 

 in revealing what is underground: the thing 

 to be felt is the Grey Worm; and the worm 

 is lying snug in its burrow, at a depth of some 

 inches below the surface. 



We thereupon turn our thoughts to the 

 faculty of scent. Insects, there is no deny- 

 ing, possess the sense of smell, often very 

 highly developed. The Necrophori, 1 the 



1 Burying-beetles. Translator's Note. 

 373 



