I came back from my outings with the conviction that the truffle-finding nose has some better guide than odour such as we with our sense-organs conceive it. It must perceive effluvia of another order as well; entirely mysterious to us, and therefore not utilised. Light has its dark rays--rays without effect upon our retinas, but not apparently on all. Why should not the domain of smell have its secret emanations, unknown to our senses and perceptible to a different sense-organ? If the scent of the dog leaves us perplexed in the sense that we cannot possibly say precisely, cannot even suspect what it is that the dog perceives, at least it is clear that it would be erroneous to refer everything to human standards. The world of sensations is far larger than the limits of our own sensibility. What numbers of facts relating to the interplay of natural forces must escape us for want of sufficiently sensitive organs! The unknown--that inexhaustible field in which the men of the future will try their strength--has harvests in store for us beside which our present knowledge would show as no more than a wretched gleaning. Under the sickle of science will one day fall the sheaves whose grain would appear to-day as senseless paradoxes. Scientific dreams? No, if you please, but undeniable positive realities, affirmed by the brute creation, which in certain respects has so great an advantage over us. Despite his long practice of his calling, despite the scent of the object he was seeking, the _rabassier_ could not divine the presence of the truffle, which ripens in winter under the soil, at a depth of a foot or two; he must have the help of a dog or a pig, whose scent is able to discover the secrets of the soil. These secrets are known to various insects even better than to our two auxiliaries. They have in exceptional perfection the power of discovering the tubers on which their larvae are nourished.