The Sacred Beetle and Others 



sand and then — just when everything is 

 ready and your appetite, whetted by exercise, 

 lends an added charm to the approaching 

 feast — suddenly to find yourself cheated 

 by a crafty partner is, it must be admitted, 

 a reverse of fortune that would dishearten 

 most of us. The Dung-beetle does not allow 

 himself to be cast down by this piece of ill- 

 luck: he rubs his cheeks, spreads his an- 

 tennae, sniffs the air and flies to the nearest 

 heap to begin all over again. I admire and 

 envy this cast of character. 



Suppose the Scarab fortunate enough to 

 have found a loyal partner; or, better still, 

 suppose that he has met no self-invited 

 companion. The burrow is ready. It is a 

 shallow cavity, about the size of one's fist, 

 dug in soft earth, usually in sand, and com- 

 municating with the outside by a short 

 passage just wide enough to admit the ball. 

 As soon as the provisions are safely stored 

 away, the Scarab shuts himself in by stopping 

 up the entrance to his dwelling with rubbish 

 kept in a corner for the purpose. Once the 

 door is closed, nothing outside betrays the 

 existence of the banqueting-chamber. And, 

 now, hail mirth and joUityl All is for the 

 best in the best of all possible worlds I The 

 table is sumptuously spread; the ceiling tem- 



36 



