The egg, laid in the empty cell, is not fixed at random on the first spot that offers upon the enclosing wall, which is vacant at all sides; it is hung near the far end, opposite the entrance. Réaumur had already noted this position of the budding larva, but without insisting on a detail whose importance he did not suspect: “The grub,” he says, “is born at the bottom of the hole, that is, at the back of the cell.” He does not speak of the egg, which he does not appear to have seen. This position of the grub was so well known to him that, wishing to attempt the rearing of a grub in a glass cell made with his own hands, he placed the larva at the bottom and the victuals on top of it. Why do I linger over a petty detail which the famous historian of the Odyneri tells in half-a-dozen words? A petty detail? It is nothing of the kind; on the contrary, it is a circumstance of paramount importance. And this is why: the egg is laid at the back, necessitating an empty cell which will be victualled after the egg is laid. The provisions are now stored, piece by piece, layer upon layer, in front of the egg; the cell is crammed with game right up to the entrance, which in the end is sealed. Of all these pieces, the obtaining of which may take several days, which are the earliest in point of date? Those nearest the egg. Which are the latest? Those by the entrance. Now it is obvious—besides, it may be proved, if necessary, by direct observation—it is obvious, I say, that the heaped worms lose strength from day to day. The effects of a prolonged fast would be enough to produce this result, to say nothing of the disorders due to a wound which becomes worse as time goes on. The larva born at the back of the cell has therefore beside it, in its first youth, the less dangerous provisions, the oldest in date and consequently the feeblest. As it works its way through the heap, it finds more recent game, which is also more vigorous; but this is attacked without danger, because the larva’s own strength has come. This progress from the more to the less nearly mortified victims presumes that the grubs do not disturb the order in which they have been stacked. That in fact is what happens. Former historians of the Odyneri have all remarked that the grubs provided for the larva are curled in the shape of a ring: “The cell,” says Réaumur, “was occupied by green rings, to the number of eight or twelve. Each of these rings consisted of a vermiform larva, alive, curled up and with its back fitting exactly against the wall of the hole. These grubs, laid in this way one on top of the other and even pressed together, had no liberty of movement.”