The Sacred Beetle and Others 



might pick off with a small pair of pincers. 



Having learnt what I want to know about 

 the insect's method of warehousing its 

 provisions, I leave It to its work, which con- 

 tinues for the best part of the night. On 

 the following days, nothing happens; the 

 Copris goes out no more. Enough treasure 

 has been laid up in a single night. Let us 

 wait a while and leave her time to stow away 

 her stuff as she pleases. 



Before the week is out, I dig up the soil 

 in my insect-house and bring to light the 

 burrow whose victualling I have been watch- 

 ing. As in the fields, it is a spacious hall 

 with an irregular, elliptic roof and an almost 

 level floor. In a corner is a round hole, 

 similar to the orifice in the neck of a bottle. 

 This is the goods-entrance, opening on a 

 slanting gallery that runs up to the surface 

 of the soil. The walls of this house, which 

 was hollowed out of fresh earth, have been 

 carefully compressed and are strong enough 

 to resist any seismic disturbances caused by 

 my excavations. It is easy to see that the 

 insect, toiling for the future, has put forth 

 all its skill, all its digging-powers, in order 

 to produce lasting work. The banqueting- 

 tent may be a hole hurriedly scooped out, 

 with irregular and none too stable walls, but 



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