A larger Adder is liquefying, thanks to the solvent dribbled by the teeming vermin. The earthenware dish becomes a porringer full of cadaveric fluid whence the reptile’s backbone emerges spiral-wise. The scaly sheath swells up and throbs in gentle undulations, as though an internal tide were lifting the skin with its ebb and flow. Gangs of workers pass to and fro between skin and muscle, seeking a suitable spot for their activities. A few of them show themselves for a moment between the disjointed scales. Surprised by the light, they dart forth their pointed heads and at once pop in again. Close beside them, in the gaps between the spiral coils, the highly-flavoured broth lies in stagnant channels. Here the greater part are feeding in shoals, motionless, packed together, with their bud-shaped breathing-holes expanded on the surface of the liquid. Their numbers are indefinite and immense, defying computation. Many strangers take part in the maggots’ banquet. The first to hasten to it are the Saprini, lovers of corruption, as their name implies. They arrive at the same time as the Luciliæ, [17] before the flesh liquefies. They take up their positions, inspect the body, tease one another in the sunshine, disappear under the corpse. The time has not yet come for a good square meal. They wait. Despite their habit of dwelling in fetid surroundings, the Saprini are pretty insects. Well-armoured, thickset, moving by fits and starts with short, quick steps, they glisten like beads of jet. On their shoulders are chevron-like stripes which the classifier notes to mark where he stands in the midst of this specific variety; they temper the brilliance of their black wing-cases with stippled spaces which diffuse the light. Some display polished, shimmering patches on a dull-bronze background chased as though with the graver’s tool. Sometimes the sombre ebony costume is embellished with brightly-coloured ornaments. The Spotted Saprinus decorates each wing-case with a splendid orange crescent. In short, considered merely from the æsthetic point of view, these little undertakers’ assistants are by no means devoid of merit. They cut an excellent figure in the glass cases of our collections. But one should see them above all at work. The Snake is submerged in the broth of its liquefied flesh. The maggots are legion. With their diadem-like valves gently opening and closing, they lie, spread like a field of flowers on the pool of meat-extract. The hour has come for the Saprini to begin feasting.