The Glow-Worm and Other Beetles Part 4

After these experiments I tried others with hairy materials imitating more or less closely the down of the Bees, with little pieces of cloth or velvet cut from my clothes, with plugs of cotton wool, with pellets of flock gathered from the everlastings. Upon all these objects, offered with the tweezers, the Meloes flung themselves without any difficulty; but, instead of keeping quiet, as they do on the bodies of the Bees, they soon convinced me, by their restless behaviour, that they found themselves as much out of their element on these furry materials as on the smooth surface of a bit of straw. I ought to have expected this: had I not just seen them wandering without pause upon the everlastings enveloped with cottony flock? If reaching the shelter of a downy surface were enough to make them believe themselves safe in harbour, nearly all would perish, without further attempts, in the down of the plants.

Let us now offer them live insects and, first of all, Anthophorae. If the Bee, after we have rid her of the parasites which she may be carrying, be taken by the wings and held for a moment in contact with the flower, we invariably find her, after this rapid contact, overrun by Meloes clinging to her hairs. The larvae nimbly take up their position on the thorax, usually on the shoulders or sides, and once there they remain motionless: the second stage of their strange journey is compa.s.sed.

After the Anthophorae, I tried the first live insects that I was able to procure at once: Drone-flies, Bluebottles, Hive-bees, small b.u.t.terflies. All were alike overrun by the Meloes, without hesitation.

What is more, there was no attempt made to return to the flowers. As I could not find any Beetles at the moment, I was unable to experiment with them. Newport, experimenting, it is true, under conditions very different from mine, since his observations related to young Meloes held captive in a gla.s.s jar, while mine were made in the normal circ.u.mstances, Newport, I was saying, saw Meloes fasten to the body of a Malachius and stay there without moving, which inclines me to believe that with Beetles I should have obtained the same results as, for instance, with a Drone-fly. And I did, in fact, at a later date, find some Meloe-larvae on the body of a big Beetle, the Golden Rose-chafer (_Cetonia aurata_), an a.s.siduous visitor of the flowers.

After exhausting the insect cla.s.s, I put within their reach my last resource, a large black Spider. Without hesitation they pa.s.sed from the flower to the arachnid, made for places near the joints of the legs and settled there without moving. Everything therefore seems to suit their plans for leaving the provisional abode where they are waiting; without distinction of species, genus, or cla.s.s, they fasten to the first living creature that chance brings within their reach. We now understand how it is that these young larvae have been observed upon a host of different insects and especially upon the early Flies and Bees pillaging the flowers; we can also understand the need for that prodigious number of eggs laid by a single Oil-beetle, since the vast majority of the larvae which come out of them will infallibly go astray and will not succeed in reaching the cells of the Anthophorae.

Instinct is at fault here; and fecundity makes up for it.

But instinct recovers its infallibility in another case. The Meloes, as we have seen, pa.s.s without difficulty from the flower to the objects within their reach, whatever these may be, smooth or hairy, living or inanimate. This done, they behave very differently, according as they have chanced to invade the body of an insect or some other object. In the first case, on a downy Fly or b.u.t.terfly, on a smooth-skinned Spider or Beetle, the larvae remain motionless after reaching the point which suits them. Their instinctive desire is therefore satisfied. In the second case, in the midst of the nap of cloth or velvet, or the filaments of cotton, or the flock of the everlasting, or, lastly, on the smooth surface of a leaf or a straw, they betray the knowledge of their mistake by their continual coming and going, by their efforts to return to the flower imprudently abandoned.

How then do they recognize the nature of the object to which they have just moved? How is it that this object, whatever the quality of its surface, will sometimes suit them and sometimes not? Do they judge their new lodging by sight? But then no mistake would be possible; the sense of sight would tell them at the outset whether the object within reach was suitable or not; and emigration would or would not take place according to its decision. And then how can we suppose that, buried in the dense thicket of a pellet of cotton-wool or in the fleece of an Anthophora, the imperceptible larva can recognize, by sight, the enormous ma.s.s which it is perambulating?

Is it by touch, by some sensation due to the inner vibrations of living flesh? Not so, for the Meloes remain motionless on insect corpses that have dried up completely, on dead Anthophorae taken from cells at least a year old. I have seen them keep absolutely quiet on fragments of an Anthophora on a thorax long since nibbled and emptied by the Mites. By what sense then can they distinguish the thorax of an Anthophora from a velvety pellet, when sight and touch are out of the question? The sense of smell remains. But in that case what exquisite subtlety must we not take for granted? Moreover, what similarity of smell can we admit between all the insects which, dead or alive, whole or in pieces, fresh or dried, suit the Meloes, while anything else does not suit them? A wretched louse, a living speck, leaves us mightily perplexed as to the sensibility which directs it. Here is yet one more riddle added to all the others.

After the observations which I have described, it remained for me to search the earthen surface inhabited by the Anthophorae: I should then have followed the Meloe-larva in its transformations. It was certainly _cicatricosus_ whose larvae I had been studying; it was certainly this insect which ravaged the cells of the Mason-bee, for I found it dead in the old galleries which it had been unable to leave. This opportunity, which did not occur again, promised me an ample harvest.

I had to give it all up. My Thursday was drawing to a close; I had to return to Avignon, to resume my lessons on the electrophorus and the Toricellian tube. O happy Thursdays! What glorious opportunities I lost because you were too short!

We will go back a year to continue this history. I collected, under far less favourable conditions, it is true, enough notes to map out the biography of the tiny creature which we have just seen migrating from the camomile-flowers to the Anthophora's back. From what I have said of the Sitaris-larvae, it is plain that the Meloe-larvae perched, like the former, on the back of a Bee, have but one aim: to get themselves conveyed by this Bee to the victualled cells. Their object is not to live for a time on the body that carries them.

Were it necessary to prove this, it would be enough to say that we never see these larvae attempt to pierce the skin of the Bee, or else to nibble at a hair or two, nor do we see them increase in size so long as they are on the Bee's body. To the Meloes, as to the Sitares, the Anthophora serves merely as a vehicle which conveys them to their goal, the victualled cell.

It remains for us to learn how the Meloe leaves the down of the Bee which has carried it, in order to enter the cell. With larvae collected from the bodies of different Bees, before I was fully acquainted with the tactics of the Sitares, I undertook, as Newport had done before me, certain investigations intended to throw light on this leading point in the Oil-beetle's history. My attempts, based upon those which I had made with the Sitares, resulted in the same failure. The tiny creatures, when brought into contact with Anthophora-larvae or -nymphs, paid no attention whatever to their prey; others, placed near cells which were open and full of honey, did not enter them, or at most ventured to the edge of the orifice; others, lastly, put inside the cell, on the dry wall or on the surface of the honey, came out again immediately or else got stuck and died. The touch of the honey is as fatal to them as to the young Sitares.

Searches made at various periods in the nests of the Hairy-footed Anthophora had taught me some years earlier that _Meloe cicatricosus_, like the Sitares, is a parasite of that Bee; indeed I had at different times discovered adult Meloes, dead and shrivelled, in the Bee's cells. On the other hand, I knew from Leon Dufour that the little yellow animal, the Louse found in the Bee's down, had been recognized, thanks to Newport's investigations, as the larva of the Oil-beetle.

With these data, rendered still more striking by what I was learning daily on the subject of the Sitares, I went to Carpentras, on the 21st of May, to inspect the nests of the Anthophorae, then building, as I have described. Though I was almost certain of succeeding, sooner or later, with the Sitares, who were excessively abundant, I had very little hope of the Meloes, which on the contrary are very scarce in the same nests. Circ.u.mstances, however, favoured me more than I dared hope and, after six hours' labour, in which the pick played a great part, I became the possessor, by the sweat of my brow, of a considerable number of cells occupied by Sitares and two other cells appropriated by Meloes.

While my enthusiasm had not had time to cool at the sight, momentarily repeated, of a young Sitaris perched upon an Anthophora's egg floating in the centre of the little pool of honey, it might well have burst all restraints on beholding the contents of one of these cells. On the black, liquid honey a wrinkled pellicle is floating; and on this pellicle, motionless, is a yellow louse. The pellicle is the empty envelope of the Anthophora's egg; the louse is a Meloe-larva.

The story of this larva becomes self-evident. The young Meloe leaves the down of the Bee at the moment when the egg is laid; and, since contact with the honey would be fatal to the grub, it must, in order to save itself, adopt the tactics followed by the Sitaris, that is to say, it must allow itself to drop on the surface of the honey with the egg which is in the act of being laid. There, its first task is to devour the egg which serves it for a raft, as is attested by the empty envelope on which it still remains; and it is after this meal, the only one that it takes so long as it retains its present form, that it must commence its long series of transformations and feed upon the honey ama.s.sed by the Anthophora. This was the reason of the complete failure both of my attempts and of Newport's to rear the young Meloe-larvae. Instead of offering them honey, or larvae, or nymphs, we should have placed them on the eggs recently laid by the Anthophora.

On my return from Carpentras, I meant to try this method, together with that of the Sitares, with which I had been so successful; but, as I had no Meloe-larvae at my disposal and could not obtain any save by searching for them in the Bees' fleece, the Anthophora-eggs were all discovered to have hatched in the cells which I brought back from my expedition, when I was at last able to find some. This lost experiment is little to be regretted, for, since the Meloes and the Sitares exhibiting the completest similarity not only in habits but also in their method of evolution, there is no doubt whatever that I should have succeeded. I even believe that this method may be attempted with the cells of various Bees, provided that the eggs and the honey do not differ too greatly from the Anthophora's. I should not, for example, count on being successful with the cells of the three-horned Osmia, who shares the Anthophora's quarters: her egg is short and thick; and her honey is yellow, odourless, solid, almost a powder and very faintly flavoured.

CHAPTER V HYPERMETAMORPHOSIS

By a Machiavellian stratagem the primary larva of the Oil-beetle or the Sitaris has penetrated the Anthophora's cell; it has settled on the egg, which is its first food and its life-raft in one. What becomes of it once the egg is exhausted?

Let us, to begin with, go back to the larva of the Sitaris. By the end of a week the Anthophora's egg has been drained dry by the parasite and is reduced to the envelope, a shallow skiff which preserves the tiny creature from the deadly contact of the honey. It is on this skiff that the first transformation takes place, whereafter the larva, which is now organized to live in a glutinous environment, drops off the raft into the pool of honey and leaves its empty skin, split along the back, clinging to the pellicle of the egg. At this stage we see floating motionless on the honey a milk-white atom, oval, flat and a twelfth of an inch long. This is the larva of the Sitaris in its new form. With the aid of a lens we can distinguish the fluctuations of the digestive ca.n.a.l, which is gorging itself with honey; and along the circ.u.mference of the flat, elliptical back we perceive a double row of breathing-pores which, thanks to their position, cannot be choked by the viscous liquid. Before describing the larva in detail we will wait for it to attain its full development, which cannot take long, for the provisions are rapidly diminis.h.i.+ng.

The rapidity however is not to be compared with that with which the gluttonous larvae of the Anthophora consume their food. Thus, on visiting the dwellings of the Anthophorae for the last time, on the 25th of June, I found that the Bee's larvae had all finished their rations and attained their full development, whereas those of the Sitares, still immersed in the honey, were, for the most part, only half the size which they must finally attain. This is yet another reason why the Sitares should destroy an egg which, were it to develop, would produce a voracious larva, capable of starving them in a very short time. When rearing the larvae myself in test-tubes, I have found that the Sitares take thirty-five to forty days to finish their mess of honey and that the larvae of the Anthophora spend less than a fortnight over the same meal.

It is in the first half of July that the Sitaris-grubs reach their full dimensions. At this period the cell usurped by the parasite contains nothing beyond a full-fed larva and, in a corner, a heap of reddish droppings. This larva is soft and white, about half an inch in length and a quarter of an inch wide at its broadest part. Seen from above as it floats on the honey, it is elliptical in form, tapering gradually towards the front and more suddenly towards the rear. Its ventral surface is highly convex; its dorsal surface, on the contrary, is almost flat. When the larva is floating on the liquid honey, it is as it were steadied by the excessive development of the ventral surface immersed in the honey, which enables it to acquire an equilibrium that is of the greatest importance to its welfare. In fact, the breathing-holes, arranged without means of protection on either edge of the almost flat back, are level with the viscous liquid and would be choked by that sticky glue at the least false movement, if a suitably ballasted hold did not prevent the larva from heeling over. Never was corpulent abdomen of greater use: thanks to this plumpness of the belly the larva is protected from asphyxia.

Its segments number thirteen, including the head. This head is pale, soft, like the rest of the body, and very small compared with the rest of the creature. The antennae are excessively short and consist of two cylindrical joints. I have vainly looked for the eyes with a powerful magnifying-gla.s.s. In its former state, the larva, subject to strange migrations, obviously needs the sense of sight and is provided with four ocelli. In its present state, of what use would eyes be to it at the bottom of a clay cell, where the most absolute darkness prevails?

The labrum is prominent, is not distinctly divided from the head, is curved in front and edged with pale and very fine bristles. The mandibles are small, reddish toward the tips, blunt and hollowed out spoonwise on the inner side. Below the mandibles is a fleshy part crowned with two very tiny nipples. This is the lower lip with its two palpi. It is flanked right and left by two other parts, likewise fleshy, adhering closely to the lip and bearing at the tip a rudimentary palp consisting of two or three very tiny joints. These two parts are the future jaws. All this apparatus of lips and jaws is completely immobile and in a rudimentary condition which is difficult to describe. They are budding organs, still faint and embryonic. The labrum and the complicated lamina formed by the lip and the jaws leave between them a narrow slit in which the mandibles work.

The legs are merely vestiges, for, though they consist of three tiny cylindrical joints, they are barely a fiftieth of an inch in length.

The creature is unable to make use of them, not only in the liquid honey upon which it lives, but even on a solid surface. If we take the larva from the cell and place it on a hard substance, to observe it more readily, we see that the inordinate protuberance of the abdomen, by lifting the thorax from the ground, prevents the legs from finding a support. Lying on its side, the only possible position because of its conformation, the larva remains motionless or only makes a few lazy, wriggling movements of the abdomen, without ever stirring its feeble limbs, which for that matter could not a.s.sist it in any way. In short, the tiny creature of the first stage, so active and alert, is succeeded by a ventripotent grub, deprived of movement by its very obesity. Who would recognize in this clumsy, flabby, blind, hideously pot-bellied creature, with nothing but a sort of stumps for legs, the elegant pigmy of but a little while back, armour-clad, slender and provided with highly perfected organs for performing its perilous journeys?

Lastly, we count nine pairs of stigmata: one pair on the mesothorax and the rest on the first eight segments of the abdomen. The last pair, that on the eighth abdominal segment, consists of stigmata so small that to detect them we have to gather their position by that in the succeeding states of the larva and to pa.s.s a very patient magnifying-gla.s.s along the direction of the other pairs. These are as yet but vestigial stigmata. The others are fairly large, with pale, round, flat edges.

If in its first form the Sitaris-larva is organized for action, to obtain possession of the coveted cell, in its second form it is organized solely to digest the provisions acquired. Let us take a glance at its internal structure and in particular at its digestive apparatus. Here is a strange thing: this apparatus, in which the h.o.a.rd of honey ama.s.sed by the Anthophora is to be engulfed, is similar in every respect to that of the adult Sitaris, who possibly never takes food. We find in both the same very short oesophagus, the same chylific ventricle, empty in the perfect insect, distended in the larva with an abundant orange-coloured pulp; in both the same gall-bladders, four in number, connected with the r.e.c.t.u.m by one of their extremities. Like the perfect insect, the larva is devoid of salivary glands or any other similar apparatus. Its nervous system comprises eleven ganglia, not counting the oesophageal collar, whereas in the perfect insect there are only seven: three for the thorax, of which the last two are contiguous, and four for the abdomen.

When its rations are finished the larva remains a few days in a motionless condition, ejecting from time to time a few reddish droppings until the digestive ca.n.a.l is completely cleared of its orange-coloured pulp. Then the creature contracts itself, huddles itself together; and before long we see coming detached from its body a transparent, slightly crumpled and extremely fine pellicle, forming a closed bag, in which the successive transformations will take place henceforth. On this epidermal bag, this sort of transparent leather bottle, formed by the larva's skin detached all of a piece, without a slit of any kind, we can distinguish the several well-preserved external organs: the head, with its antennae, mandibles, paws and palpi; the thoracic segments, with their vestiges of legs; the abdomen, with its chain of breathing-holes still connected one to another by tracheal threads.

Then beneath this pellicle, which is so delicate that it can hardly bear the most cautious touch, we see a soft, white ma.s.s taking shape, a ma.s.s which in a few hours acquires a firm, h.o.r.n.y consistency and a vivid yellow hue. The transformation is now complete. Let us tear the fine gauze bag enclosing the organism which has just come into being and direct our investigation to this third form of the Sitaris-larva.

It is an inert, segmented body, with an oval outline, a h.o.r.n.y consistency, just like that of pupae and chrysalids, and a bright-yellow colour, which we can best describe by likening it to that of a lemon-drop. Its upper surface forms a double inclined plane with a very blunt ridge; its lower surface is at first flat, but, as the result of evaporation, becomes more concave daily, leaving a projecting rim all around its oval outline. Lastly, its two extremities or poles are slightly flattened. The major axis of the lower surface averages half an inch in length and the minor axis a quarter of an inch.

At the cephalic pole of this body is a sort of mask, modelled roughly on the head of the larva, and at the opposite pole a small circular disk deeply wrinkled at the centre. The three segments that come after the head bear each a pair of very minute k.n.o.bs, hardly visible without the lens: these are, to the legs of the larva in its previous form, what the cephalic mask is to the head of the same larva. They are not organs, but indications, landmarks placed at the points where these organs will appear later. On either side we count nine stigmata, set as before on the mesothorax and the first eight abdominal segments.

The first eight breathing-holes are dark brown and stand out plainly against the yellow colour of the body. They consist of small, s.h.i.+ny, conical k.n.o.bs, perforated at the top with a round hole. The ninth stigma, though fas.h.i.+oned like the others, is ever so much smaller; it cannot be distinguished without the lens.

The anomaly, already so manifest in the change from the first form to the second, becomes even more so here; and we do not know what name to give to an organism without a standard of comparison, not only in the order of Beetles, but in the whole cla.s.s of insects. While, on the one hand, this organism offers many points of resemblance to the pupae of the Flies in its h.o.r.n.y consistency, in the complete immobility of its various segments, in the all but absolute absence of relief which would enable one to distinguish the parts of the perfect insect; while, on the other hand, it approximates to the chrysalids, because the creature, to attain this condition, has to shed its skin, as the caterpillars do, it differs from the pupa because it has for covering not the surface skin, which has become h.o.r.n.y, but rather one of the inner skins of the larva; and it differs from the chrysalids by the absence of mouldings which in the latter betray the appendages of the perfect insect. Lastly, it differs yet more profoundly from the pupa and the chrysalis because from both these organisms the perfect insect springs straightway, whereas that which follows what we are considering is simply a larva like that which went before. I shall suggest, to denote this curious organism, the term _pseudochrysalis_; and I shall reserve the names _primary larva_, _secondary larva_ and _tertiary larva_ to denote, in a couple of words, each of the three forms under which the Sitares possess all the characteristics of larvae.

Although the Sitaris, on a.s.suming the form of the pseudochrysalis, is transfigured outwardly to the point of baffling the science of entomological phases, this is not so inwardly. I have at every season of the year examined the viscera of the pseudochrysalids, which generally remain stationary for a whole year, and I have never observed other forms among their organs than those which we find in the secondary larva. The nervous system has undergone no change. The digestive apparatus is absolutely void and, because of its emptiness, appears only as a thin cord, sunk, lost amid the adipose sacs. The stercoral intestine has more substance; its outlines are better defined. The four gall-bladders are always perfectly distinct. The adipose tissue is more abundant than ever: it forms by itself the whole contents of the pseudochrysalis, for in the matter of volume the insignificant threads of the nervous system and the digestive apparatus count for nothing. It is the reserve upon which life must draw for its future labours.

A few Sitares remain hardly a month in the pseudochrysalis stage. The other phases are achieved in the course of August; and at the beginning of September the insect attains the perfect state. But as a rule the development is slower; the pseudochrysalis goes through the winter; and it is not, at the earliest, until June in the second year that the final transformations take place. Let us pa.s.s in silence over this long period of repose, during which the Sitaris, in the form of a pseudochrysalis, slumbers at the bottom of its cell, in a sleep as lethargic as that of a germ in its egg, and come to the months of June and July in the following year, the period of what we might call a second hatching.

The pseudochrysalis is still enclosed in the delicate pouch formed of the skin of the secondary larva. Outside, nothing fresh has happened; but important changes have taken place inside. I have said that the pseudochrysalis displayed an upper surface arched like a hog's back and a lower surface at first flat and then more and more concave. The sides of the double inclined plane of the upper or dorsal surface also share in this depression occasioned by the evaporation of the fluid const.i.tuents; and a time comes when these sides are so depressed that a section of the pseudochrysalis through a plane perpendicular to its axis would be represented by a curvilinear triangle with blunted corners and inwardly convex sides. This is the appearance displayed by the pseudochrysalis during the winter and spring.

But in June it has lost this withered appearance; it represents a perfect balloon, an ellipsoid of which the sections perpendicular to the major axis are circles. Something has also come to pa.s.s of greater importance than this expansion, which may be compared with that which we obtain by blowing into a wrinkled bladder. The h.o.r.n.y integuments of the pseudochrysalis have become detached from their contents, all of a piece, without a break, just as happened the year before with the skin of the secondary larva; and they thus form a fresh vesicular envelope, free from any adhesion to the contents and itself enclosed in the pouch formed of the secondary larva's skin. Of these two bags without outlet, one of which is enclosed within the other, the outer is transparent, flexible, colourless and extremely delicate; the second is brittle, almost as delicate as the first, but much less translucent because of its yellow colouring, which makes it resemble a thin flake of amber. On this second sac are found the stigmatic warts, the thoracic studs and so forth, which we noted on the pseudochrysalis.

Lastly, within its cavity we catch a glimpse of something the shape of which at once recalls to mind the secondary larva.

And indeed, if we tear the double envelope which protects this mystery, we recognize, not without astonishment, that we have before our eyes a new larva similar to the secondary. After one of the strangest transformations, the creature has gone back to its second form. To describe the new larva is unnecessary, for it differs from the former in only a few slight details. In both there is the same head, with its various appendages barely outlined; the same vestiges of legs, the same stumps transparent as crystal. The tertiary larva differs from the secondary only by its abdomen, which is less fat, owing to the absolute emptiness of the digestive apparatus; by a double chain of fleshy cus.h.i.+ons extending along each side; by the rim of the stigmata, crystalline and slightly projecting, but less so than in the pseudochrysalis; by the ninth pair of breathing-holes, hitherto rudimentary but now almost as large as the rest; lastly by the mandibles ending in a very sharp point. Evicted from its twofold sheath, the tertiary larva makes only very lazy movements of contraction and dilation, without being able to advance, without even being able to maintain its normal position, because of the weakness of its legs. It usually remains motionless, lying on its side, or else displays its drowsy activity merely by feeble, wormlike movements.

By dint of these alternate contractions and dilations, indolent though they be, the larva nevertheless contrives to turn right round in the sort of sh.e.l.l with which the pseudochrysalidal integuments provide it, when by accident it finds itself placed head downwards; and this operation is all the more difficult inasmuch as the larva almost exactly fills the cavity of the sh.e.l.l. The creature contracts, bends its head under its belly and slides its front half over its hinder half by wormlike movements so slow that the lens can hardly detect them. In less than a quarter of an hour the larva, at first turned upside down, finds itself again head uppermost. I admire this gymnastic feat, but have some difficulty in understanding it, so small is the s.p.a.ce which the larva, when at rest in its cell, leaves unoccupied, compared with that which we should be justified in expecting from the possibility of such a reversal. The larva does not long enjoy the privilege which enables it to resume inside its cell, when this is moved from its original position, the att.i.tude which it prefers, that is to say, with its head up.

Two days, at most, after its first appearance it relapses into an inertia as complete as that of the pseudochrysalis. On removing it from its amber sh.e.l.l, we see that its faculty of contracting or dilating at will is so completely paralysed that the stimulus of a needle is unable to provoke it, though the integuments have retained all their flexibility and though no perceptible change has occurred in the organization. The irritability, therefore, which in the pseudochrysalis is suspended for a whole year, reawakens for a moment, to relapse instantly into the deepest torpor. This torpor will be partly dispelled only at the moment of the pa.s.sing into the nymphal stage, to return immediately afterwards and last until the insect attains the perfect state.

Further, on holding larvae of the third form, or nymphs enclosed in their cells, in an inverted position, in gla.s.s tubes, we never see them regain an erect position, however long we continue the experiment. The perfect insect itself, during the time that it is enclosed in the sh.e.l.l, cannot regain it, for lack of the requisite flexibility. This total absence of movement in the tertiary larva, when a few days old, and also in the nymph, together with the smallness of the s.p.a.ce left free in the sh.e.l.l, would necessarily lead to the conviction, if we had not witnessed the first moments of the tertiary larva, that it is absolutely impossible for the creature to turn right round.

And now see to what curious inferences this lack of observations made at the due moment may lead us. We collect some pseudochrysalids and heap them in a gla.s.s jar in all possible positions. The favourable season arrives; and with very legitimate astonishment we find that, in a large number of sh.e.l.ls, the larva or nymph occupies an inverted position, that is to say, the head is turned towards the a.n.a.l extremity of the sh.e.l.l. In vain we watch these reversed bodies for any indications of movement; in vain we place the sh.e.l.ls in every imaginable position, to see if the creature will turn round; in vain, once more, we ask ourselves where the free s.p.a.ce is which this turning would demand. The illusion is complete: I have been taken in by it myself; and for two years I indulged in the wildest conjectures to account for this lack of correspondence between the sh.e.l.l and its contents, to explain, in short, a fact which is inexplicable once the propitious moment has pa.s.sed.

On the natural site, in the cells of the Anthophora, this apparent anomaly never occurs, because the secondary larva, when on the point of transformation into the pseudochrysalis, is always careful to place its head uppermost, according as the axis of the cell more or less nearly approaches the vertical. But, when the pseudochrysalids are placed higgledy-piggledy in a box or jar, all those which are upside down will later contain inverted larvae or nymphs.

After four changes of form so profound as those which I have described, one might reasonably expect to find some modifications of the internal organization. Nevertheless, nothing is changed; the nervous system is the same in the tertiary larva as in the earlier phases; the reproductive organs do not yet show; and there is no need to mention the digestive apparatus, which remains invariable even in the perfect insect.

The duration of the tertiary larva is a bare four or five weeks, which is also about the duration of the second. In July, when the secondary larva pa.s.ses into the pseudochrysalid stage, the tertiary larva pa.s.ses into the nymphal stage, still inside the double vesicular envelope.

Its skin splits along the back in front; and with the a.s.sistance of a few feeble contractions, which reappear at this juncture, it is thrust behind in the shape of a little ball. There is therefore nothing here that differs from what happens in the other Beetles.

Nor does the nymph which succeeds this tertiary larva present any peculiarity: it is the perfect insect in swaddling-bands, yellowish white, with its various external members, clear as crystal, displayed under the abdomen. A few weeks elapse, during which the nymph partly dons the livery of the adult state; and, in about a month, the insect moults for a last time, in the usual manner, in order to attain its final form. The wing-cases are now of a uniform yellowish white, as are the wings, the abdomen and the greater part of the legs; very nearly all the rest of the body is of a glossy black. In the s.p.a.ce of twenty-four hours, the wing-cases a.s.sume their half-black, half-russet colouring; the wings grow darker; and the legs finish turning black.

This done, the adult organism is completed. However, the Sitaris remains still a fortnight in the intact sh.e.l.l, ejecting at intervals white droppings of uric acid, which it pushes back together with the shreds of its last two sloughs, those of the tertiary larva and of the nymph. Lastly, about the middle of August, it tears the double bag that contains it, pierces the lid of the Anthophora's cell, enters a corridor and appears outside in quest of the other s.e.x.