neglect. Were they not rather five chance Necrophori
who, guided by the smell, without any previous understanding, hastened
to the abandoned Mouse to exploit her on their own account? I incline
to this opinion, the likeliest of all in the absence of exact
information.

Probability becomes certainty if we check the fact by experiment. The
test with the brick already tells us something. For six hours my three
specimens exhausted themselves in efforts before they succeeded in
removing their booty and placing it on practicable soil. In this long
and heavy job, helpful neighbours would have been most welcome. Four
other Necrophori, buried here and there under a little sand, comrades
and acquaintances, fellow-workers of the day before, were occupying
the same cage; and not one of the busy ones thought of calling on them
to assist. Despite their extreme embarrassment, the owners of the
Mouse accomplished their task to the end, without the least help,
though this could have been so easily requisitioned.

Being three, one might say, they deemed themselves strong enough; they
needed no one else to lend them a hand. The objection does not hold
good. On many occasions and under conditions even more difficult than
those presented by a hard soil, I have again and again seen isolated
Necrophori wearing themselves out against my artifices; yet not once
did they leave their workshop to recruit helpers. Collaborators, it is
true, often arrive, but they are summoned by their sense of smell, not
by the first occupant. They are fortuitous helpers; they are never
called in. They are received without strife but also without
gratitude. They are not summoned; they are tolerated.

In the glazed shelter where I keep the cage I happened to catch one of
these chance assistants in the act. Passing that way in the night and
scenting dead flesh, he had entered where none of his kind had yet
penetrated of his own accord. I surprised him on the dome of the
cover. If the wire had not prevented him, he would have set to work
incontinently, in company with the rest. Had my captives invited this
one? Assuredly not. Heedless of others' efforts, he hastened up,
attracted by the odour of the Mole. So it was with those whose
obliging assistance is extolled. I repeat, in respect of their
imaginary prowess, what I have said elsewhere of the Sacred Beetle's:
it is a child's story, worthy to rank with any fairytale for the
amusement of the simple.

A hard soil