Above this is the tougher nutriment of the cotyledons. Refreshed by its first meal, the grub proceeds to attack this; not directly, but in the tunnel bored by the mother, which is littered with tiny crumbs and half-masticated shavings. With this light mealy diet the strength of the grub increases, and it then plunges directly into the substance of the acorn. These data explain the tactics of the gravid mother. What is her object when, before proceeding to sink her hole, she inspects her acorn, from above, below, before and behind, with such meticulous care? She is making sure that the acorn is not already occupied. The larder is amply stored, but it does not contain enough for two. Never in fact, have I found two larvae in the same acorn. One only, always only one, digests the copious meal and converts it into a greenish dust before leaving it and descending to the ground. Only an insignificant shell remains uneaten. The rule is, to each grub one acorn. Before trusting the egg to the acorn it is therefore essential to subject it to a thorough examination, to discover whether it already has an occupant. This possible occupant would be at the base of the acorn, under the cover of the cup. Nothing could be more secret than this hiding-place. Not an eye could divine the inhabitant if the surface of the acorn did not bear the mark of a tiny perforation. This mark, just visible, is my guide. Its presence tells me that the acorn is inhabited, or at least that it has been prepared for the reception of the egg; its absence tells me that the acorn has not yet been appropriated. The elephant-beetle undoubtedly draws the same conclusions. I see matters from on high, with a comprehensive glance, assisted at will by the magnifying-glass. I turn the acorn between my fingers for a moment, and the inspection is concluded. The beetle, investigating the acorn at close quarters, is often obliged to scrutinise practically the entire surface before detecting the tell-tale spot. Moreover, the welfare of her family demands a far more careful search than does my curiosity. This is the reason for her prolonged and deliberate examination. The search is concluded; the acorn is recognised as unoccupied. The drill is applied to the surface and rotated for hours; then, very often, the insect departs, disdaining the result of her work. Why such protracted efforts? Was the beetle piercing the fruit merely to obtain drink and refreshment? Was the beak thrust into the depths of the base merely to obtain, from the choicer parts, a few sips of nutritious sap? Was the whole undertaking merely a matter of personal nourishment?