crophorus cannot employ fixed methods
in performing his task. Exposed to fortuitous hazards, he must be able
to modify his tactics within the limits of his modest discernment. To
saw, to break, to disentangle, to lift, to shake, to displace: these
are so many means which are indispensable to the grave-digger in a
predicament. Deprived of these resources, reduced to uniformity of
procedure, the insect would be incapable of pursuing its calling.

We see at once how imprudent it would be to draw conclusions from an
isolated case in which rational co-ordination or premeditated
intention might appear to play its part. Every instinctive action no
doubt has its motive; but does the animal in the first place judge
whether the action is opportune? Let us begin by a careful
consideration of the creature's labours; let us support each piece of
evidence by others; and then we shall perhaps be able to answer the
question.

First of all, a word as to diet. A general scavenger, the
Burying-beetle refuses no sort of cadaveric putrescence. All is good
to his senses, feathered game or furry, provided that the burden do
not exceed his strength. He exploits the batrachian or the reptile
with no less animation. He accepts without hesitation extraordinary
finds, probably unknown to his race, as witness a certain Goldfish, a
red Chinese Carp, whose body, placed in one of my cages, was forthwith
considered an excellent tit-bit and buried according to the rules. Nor
is butcher's meat despised. A mutton-cutlet, a strip of beef-steak, in
the right stage of maturity, disappeared beneath the soil, receiving
the same attentions as those lavished on the Mole or the Mouse. In
short, the Necrophorus has no exclusive preferences; anything putrid
he conveys underground.

The maintenance of his industry, therefore, presents no sort of
difficulty. If one kind of game be lacking, some other, the first to
hand, will very well replace it. Nor is there much trouble in fixing
the site of his industry. A capacious wire-gauze cover, resting on an
earthen pan filled to the brim with fresh, heaped sand, is sufficient.
To obviate criminal attempts on the part of the Cats, whom the game
would not fail to tempt, the cage is installed in a closed
glass-house, which in winter shelters the plants and in summer serves
as an entomological laboratory.

Now to work. The Mole lies in the centre of the enclosure. The soil,
easily shifted and homogeneous, realizes the best