The Elephant Weevil 
while the branches are being lashed and 
shaken by the mistral. I break off the twig 
and lay it gently on the ground. The insect 
takes no notice of its removal and goes on 
with its job. I squat down beside it, shel- 
tered from the gale behind a clump of brush- 
wood, and watch operations. 
Shod with clinging sandals which will 
enable her later, in my cages, to scale a 
perpendicular pane of glass, the Weevil is 
firmly fixed on the smooth and sloping curve 
of the acorn. She is working her drill. 
Slowly and awkwardly she moves around her 
implanted rod, describes a semicircle whose 
centre is the perforated point and then, 
retracing her steps, describes the semicircle in 
the reverse direction. And this is repeated 
several times over. We do the same when, 
by an alternating movement of the wrist, 
we make a hole in a piece of wood with a 
bradawl. 
Little by little, the rostrum enters. In 
an hour’s time, it has disappeared entirely. 
A brief rest follows. Then at last the 
instrument is withdrawn. What will hap- 
pen next? Nothing more, this time. The 
gI 
