“The young larva comes out of the egg. What does the poor little thing know from experience of the hard trade it is to follow? Nothing, absolutely nothing. No matter; as soon as it is born it attacks the wood it rests upon and hollows out a shelter for itself with the least possible delay. This most urgent business being attended to, it now leisurely gnaws its way ahead, nibbling a little here and a little there and shaping its course according to the quality of the wood. The passage lengthens, increasing in diameter as the creature grows, and sometimes ascending, sometimes descending, sometimes running horizontally quite through the trunk or branch. The mass of the wood may be attacked with little system and without economy, for the larva is assured of food enough in any event. One precaution, however, it invariably takes: it never bores through the bark, for fear of betraying its presence to hostile eyes. But how does the larva, working in total darkness, know when it is getting near the bark and must turn back? What gives it the fear it has of showing itself? What makes it so careful to remain in the heart of the wood and thus avoid the vigilant sparrow it has never seen? It is instinct, the inspiration that protects all animal-kind in the fierce battle of life.” CHAPTER XXXVIII THE GRAIN-WEEVIL Uncle Paul had sent old Jacques to town to buy the drug they were going to apply to Simon’s wheat. Meanwhile he took occasion to tell his young hearers about the wheat-devourer that was to have the benefit of the drug. The handful of grain left by Simon was in a plate on the table. The little weevils were running about in frantic endeavors to escape, while Emile with a straw was pushing them back into the middle of the plate, where they cowered among the kernels of wheat. Louis and Jules were also there, all attention to what was going on. “This ravager of our granaries,” began Uncle Paul, “is called the grain-weevil, or, in Latin, calandra. It belongs to the order of coleoptera or beetles. Its defensive armor is a hard brown casing finely engraved. It has no membranous wings under the elytra or wing sheaths. Hence it is unable to fly, but it runs fast enough and it clings to objects with a firm grip. You see how busy Emile is kept with his straw in preventing the prisoners’ escape. The grain-weevil is about four millimeters long, its body is of a uniform blackish brown, and its head ends in a long snout, a kind of slender trumpet. The corselet or thorax is long, marked with fine pricks or dots, and the wing sheaths are delicately furrowed. The insect’s most striking characteristic is its long, trumpet-shaped snout.” “It seems to me,” said Jules, “I have seen other beetles, and rather large ones, too, with the head ending in a trumpet like that.” “I’ve found them on hazels,” added Louis, “and they had a long, slender beak that would make you think the insect was smoking a long pipe.”