A FAMILY OF ROPE DANCERS 49 
him comes the van, following his example with 
sheep-like accurac}^, and thus presently the home 
site is reached, and the tapestried road is no more. 
“ But the sleepy caterpillars cannot settle at 
once to rest, for there is no shelter. The scales of 
the muff which covered them were scattered to 
the four winds in their advent. What is to be 
done? ‘ Spin a tent! ’ whispers instinct, and the 
little caterpillars obediently set their spinnerets 
in motion. Shortly, by their combined efforts, 
they have made a little ball of gauze about the 
size of a hazelnut. It is securely fastened to a 
broad leaf, and offers a blessed haven for the time 
being. The tired little processionaries creep into 
it, doubtless with thankful hearts, and proceed to 
sleep straight round the clock, not even deigning 
to open their eyes—if the tiny specks on their 
black sealing-wax heads can be called eyes—until 
night is come again, and their clamoring stom¬ 
achs insist that food must be supplied. Then 
again instinct draws them up in a line outside, 
and the leader promptly starts on a tour of inves¬ 
tigation, dribbling his silken rope as he goes, and 
carefully followed by the whole sheep-like pro¬ 
cession of dribblers, who thus make sure a guid¬ 
ing line to direct their safe return from the laby¬ 
rinth which their uncertain needle-pasturage 
forms. ’Tis a wise provision. Theseus himself 
would have been lost in the mazes of Crete, you 
