The Narbonne Lycosa: The Burrow 



They first pursue the season's task. They 

 were digging when I caught them; and, car- 

 ried away by the enthusiasm of their activity, 

 they go on digging inside my cages. Taken 

 in by my decoy-shaft, they deepen the imprint 

 of the pencil as though they were deepening 

 their real vestibule. They do not begin their 

 labours over again; they continue them. 



The second, not having this inducement, 

 this semblance of a burrow mistaken for their 

 own woik, forsake the idea of digging and 

 allow themselves to die, |>ecause they would 

 have to travel back along;^e chain of actions 

 and to resume the pick-strokes of the start. 

 To begin all over again requires reflection, a 

 quality wherewith they are not endowed. 



To the insect — and we have seen this in 

 manv earlier cases — ^what is done is done and 

 cannot be taken up again. The hands of a 

 watch do not move backwards. The insect 

 behaves in much the same way. Its activity 

 urges it in one direction, ever forwards, with- 

 out allowing it to retrace its steps, even when 

 an accident makes this necessary. 



^Vhat die Mason-bees and the others 

 tau^t us erewhile die Lycosa now confirms 

 in her manner. Incapable of taking fresh 

 151 



