134 THE LIFE AND LOVE OF THE INSECT 



imperious needs that oblige the collector of sheep- 

 droppings to reside so low down in the earth. 



Before leaving the spot, let us note a fact the evidence 

 of which will be of value later. The female was right at 

 the bottom of the burrow ; above her, at some distance, 

 was the male : both were struck motionless with fright 

 in the midst of an occupation the nature whereof we are 

 not yet able to specify. This detail, observed repeatedly 

 in the different burrows excavated, seems to show that 

 each of the two fellow- workers has a fixed place. 



The mother, more skilled in nursery matters, occupies 

 the lower floor. She alone digs, versed as she is in the 

 properties of the perpendicular, which economizes work 

 while giving the greatest depth. She is the engineer, 

 always in touch with the working-face of the gallery. The 

 other is her journeyman-mason. He is stationed at the 

 back, ready to load the rubbish on his horny hod. Later, 

 the excavatrix becomes a baker : she kneads the cakes for 

 the children into cylinders ; the father is then her baker's 

 boy. He fetches her from outside the wherewithal for 

 making flour. As in every well-regulated household, the 

 mother is minister of the interior, the father minister of 

 the exterior. This would explain their invariable position 

 in the tubular home. The future will tell us if these con- 

 jectures represent the reality as it is. 



For the moment, let us make ourselves at home and 

 examine at leisure the central clod so laboriously acquired. 

 It contains preserved foodstuffs in the shape of a sausage 

 nearly as long and thick as one's finger. This is composed 

 of a dark, compact matter, arranged in layers, which we 

 recognize as the sheep-pellets reduced to morsels. Some- 

 times, the dough is fine and almost homogeneous from 

 one end of the cylinder to the other ; more often, the 



