TILLERS OF THE SOIL. 
8 5 
a successful flight, a beetle must have fair way and no 
lamp to puzzle it. Then it will lift its hard wing covers, 
unfurl its wide wings, and go off in a straight course, 
like a good ship before the wind, with a humming noise, 
which, no doubt, keeps up its spirit like a bagpipe. 
There is another group of these beetles which, when 
they have found a store of manure, make round balls 
of it, which are rolled away to a distance where a pit 
has been dug to receive them. I have often found these 
at their task, and “ exhilarated myself,” to borrow a phrase 
from a German friend, by watching the droll operation. 
Her forelegs being burrowing tools and unfitted for any 
other work, the beetle finds that her best plan is to 
stand on her head and kick the ball along with her hind 
feet. It is bigger than herself and rather unmanageable, 
so it rolls this way and that way, but she runs round 
and round it on her head, kicking furiously, until she has 
got it into the vicinity of her pit. Then she leaves it 
and goes to look for the exact spot. When she returns 
she finds that another beetle has found the ball and 
appropriated it, and then ensues a fierce struggle for 
possession. It is a curious kind of fight, for both are 
thoroughly armed for defence, but neither has any sort 
