for his labour; I witnessed none of the regrettable facts narrated by Fabre. It happens sometimes, according to this ingenious observer, that a cunning Scarabaeus, who has taken no part in the laborious labour of moulding the paste, arrives when it is on the road to aid the convoy, or even simply to pretend to help, in order that when the moment has come he may claim a share in the coveted meal, or even carry it all away if he can profit by a momentary inattention on the part of the lawful proprietor. I followed one of these Coleoptera for more than five metres from the place where his labour began. After having deposited his ball he began to dig up the earth around it;[55] but the mules had returned and I was obliged to depart. [54] J. H. Fabre, _Souvenirs entomologiques_, 1879. [55] In captivity also, as Mrs. Brightwen found, the Scarabaeus always attempts to bury its ball in the earth. I have no doubt that subsequent events were not exactly the same as narrated by Fabre for the Scarabaeus of Provence. The insect having made his hole, buries himself in it for a _tete a tete_ with the precious sphere. He immediately sets about passing the whole through his body. Without haste but without rest, for a week or a fortnight, as long as there is any of it left, he eats continuously, and continuously digests. He does not stop for a moment, his jaws are working the whole time; and Fabre has called attention to the fact that from the opposite extremity of the animal a continuous thread emerges without breaking, and becomes coiled up.