orm of the cherry-tree leaves the surface and
penetrates into the wood to a depth of about two inches, leaving
behind it a wide passage, which is hidden on the outside by a remnant
of bark that has been discreetly spared. This spacious vestibule is
the future insect's path of release; this screen of bark, easily
destroyed, is the curtain that masks the exit-door. In the heart of
the wood the larva finally scoops out the chamber destined for the
nymphosis. This is an egg-shaped recess an inch and a quarter to an
inch and three-quarters in length by two-fifths of an inch in
diameter. The walls are bare, that is to say, they are not lined with
the blanket of shredded fibres dear to the Capricorn of the Oak. The
entrance is blocked first by a plug of fibrous sawdust, then by a
chalky lid, similar, except in point of size, to that with which we
are already familiar. A thick layer of fine sawdust packed into the
concavity of the chalky lid, completes the barricade. Need I add that
the grub lies down and goes to sleep, for the nymphosis, with its head
against the door? Not one forgets to take this precaution.
The two Capricorns have, in short, the same system of closing their
cells. Note above all the lens-shaped stony lid. In each case we find
the same chemical composition, the same formation, like the cup of an
acorn. Dimensions apart, the two structures are identical. But no
other genus of Longicorn, so far as I am aware, practises this craft.
I will therefore complete the classic description of the
Cerambyx-beetles by adding one characteristic: they seal their
metamorphosis-chambers with a chalk slab.
The similarities of habit go no farther, despite the identity of
structure. There is even a very sharp contrast between the methods
pursued. The Capricorn of the Oak inhabits the deep layers of the
trunk; the Capricorn of the Cherry-tree inhabits the surface. In the
preparations for the transformation, the first ascends from the wood
to the bark, the second descends from the bark to the wood; the first
risks the perils of the outer world, the second shuns them and seeks a
retreat inside. The first hangs the walls of its chamber with velvet,
the second knows nothing of this luxury. Though the work is almost the
same in its results, it is at least carried out by contrary methods.
The tool, therefore, does not govern the trade. This is what the two
Cerambyx-beetles tell us.
Let us vary the testimony of the Longicorns. I am
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