nvestigations when a difficulty
occurs; they inspect the soil, recognize whence the check arises and
choose the spot at which the grave shall be dug. In the lengthy
experiment of the brick, the two males alone explored the surroundings
and set to work to solve the difficulty. Trusting her assistants, the
female, motionless beneath the Mouse, awaited the result of their
enquiries. The tests which are to follow will confirm the merits of
these valiant auxiliaries.

In the second place, the points where the Mouse lies being recognized
as presenting an insurmountable resistance, there is no grave dug in
advance, a little farther off, in the loose soil. All the attempts are
limited, I repeat, to shallow soundings, which inform the insect of
the possibility of inhumation.

It is absolute nonsense to speak of their first preparing the grave to
which the body will afterwards be carted. In order to excavate the
soil, our sextons have to feel the weight of their dead upon their
backs. They work only when stimulated by the contact of its fur.
Never, never in this world, do they venture to dig a grave unless the
body to be buried already occupies the site of the cavity. This is
absolutely confirmed by my two months and more of daily observations.

The rest of Clairville's anecdote bears examination no better. We are
told that the Necrophorus in difficulties goes in search of assistance
and returns with companions who assist him to bury the Mouse. This, in
another form, is the edifying story of the Sacred Beetle whose pellet
has rolled into a rut. Powerless to withdraw his booty from the abyss,
the wily Dung-beetle summons three or four of his neighbours, who
kindly pull out the pellet and return to their labours when the work
of salvage is done.[2]

[Footnote 2: For the confutation of this theory, cf. _The Sacred
Beetle and Others_: chap. i.--_Translator's Note_.]

The ill-interpreted exploit of the thieving pill-roller sets me on my
guard against that of the undertaker. Shall I be too particular if I
ask what precautions the observer took to recognize the owner of the
Mouse on his return, when he reappears, as we are told, with four
assistants? What sign denotes that one of the five who was able, in so
rational a manner, to call for help? Can we even be sure that the one
to disappear returns and forms one of the band? There is nothing to
tell us so; and this was the essential point which a sterling observer
was bound not to