lt de Reaumur (1683-1757), the
inventor of the Reaumur thermometer and author of _Memoires pour
servir a l'histoire naturelle des insectes_
(1734-1742).--_Translator's Note_.]

The Mouse so greatly desired is mine. I place her upon the centre of
the brick. The grave-diggers under the wire cover are now seven in
number, including three females. All have gone to earth; some are
inactive, close to the surface; the rest are busy in their crypts. The
presence of the fresh corpse is soon perceived. About seven o'clock in
the morning, three Necrophori come hurrying up, two males and a
female. They slip under the Mouse, who moves in jerks, a sign of the
efforts of the burying-party. An attempt is made to dig into the layer
of sand which hides the brick, so that a bank of rubbish accumulates
round the body.

For a couple of hours the jerks continue without results. I profit by
the circumstance to learn the manner in which the work is performed.
The bare brick allows me to see what the excavated soil would conceal
from me. When it is necessary to move the body, the Beetle turns over;
with his six claws he grips the hair of the dead animal, props himself
upon his back and pushes, using his forehead and the tip of his
abdomen as a lever. When he wants to dig, he resumes the normal
position. So, turn and turn about, the sexton strives, now with his
legs in the air, when it is a question of shifting the body or
dragging it lower down; now with his feet on the ground, when it is
necessary to enlarge the grave.

The point at which the Mouse lies is finally recognized as
unassailable. A male appears in the open. He explores the corpse, goes
round it, scratches a little at random. He goes back; and immediately
the dead body rocks. Is he advising his collaborators of what he has
discovered? Is he arranging the work with a view to their establishing
themselves elsewhere, on propitious soil?

The facts are far from confirming this idea. When he shakes the body,
the others imitate him and push, but without combining their efforts
in a given direction, for, after advancing a little towards the edge
of the brick, the burden goes back again, returning to the point of
departure. In the absence of a concerted understanding, their efforts
of leverage are wasted. Nearly three hours are occupied by
oscillations which mutually annul one another. The Mouse does not
cross the little sand-hill heaped about her by the rakes of the
workers.

For t