Even more zealous than their larger comrades, they are the first to hasten to the exploiting of the heap left by the passing mule. They come up in crowds and stay long, working under the spread table that gives them shade and coolness. Turn over the heap with your foot. You will be surprised at the swarming population whose presence no outward sign betrayed. The largest are scarce the size of a pea, but many are much smaller still, are dwarfs, no less busy than the others, no less eager to crumble the filth whose prompt disappearance the public health demands. In works of major interest, there is none like the humble, with their concerted weakness, for realizing immense strength. Swollen by numbers, the next to nothing becomes an enormous total. Hurrying in detachments at the first news of the event, assisted moreover in their wholesome task by their partners, the Aphodians, who are as weak as they, the tiny Onthophagi soon clear the ground of its dirt. Not that their appetite is equal to the consumption of such plentiful provisions. What food do those pigmies need? An atom. But that atom, selected from among the exudations, must be hunted amid the fragments of the masticated fodder. Hence, an endless division and subdivision of the lump, reducing it to crumbs which the sun sterilizes and the wind dispels. As soon as the work is done—and very well done—the troop of scavengers goes in search of another refuse-yard. Outside the period of intense cold, which puts a stop to all activity, they know no dead season. And do not run away with the idea that this filthy task entails an inelegant shape and a ragged dress. The insect knows none of our squalor. In its world, a navvy dons a sumptuous jerkin; an undertaker decks himself in a triple saffron sash; a wood-cutter works in a velvet coat. In like manner, the Onthophagus has his own luxury. True, the costume is always severe: brown and black are the predominant colours, now dull, now polished as ebony; but, on this background, what details of sober and graceful ornament! The graver’s work completes the beauty of the dress. Tiny chasings in parallel grooves, gnarly beads, dainty rows of knobs, seed-plots of pearly papillæ are distributed in profusion among nearly all of them. Yes, the little Onthophagi, with their stunted bodies and their nimble activity, are really pretty to look at. And then how original are their frontal decorations! These peace-lovers delight in the panoply of war, as though they, the inoffensive ones, thirsted for battle. Many of them crown their heads with threatening horns. Let us mention that horned one whose story will occupy us more particularly. I mean Onthophagus Taurus, clad in raven black. He wears a pair of long horns, gracefully curved and branching to either side. No pedigree bull, in the Swiss meadows, can match them for curve or elegance.