tered the short
underground passage and beheld, at the end of it, plunder and the
light. A few steps farther and the gluttons emerged, one by one, from
beneath the bridge. They distributed themselves about the enclosure.
The maize was abundant; and the Turkeys' crops grew swollen.

When all was gathered, the band wished to retreat, but not one of the
prisoners paid any attention to the central hole by which he had
arrived. Gobbling uneasily, they passed again and again across the
bridge whose arch was yawning beside them; they circled round against
the palisade, treading a hundred times in their own footprints; they
thrust their necks, with their crimson wattles, through the bars; and
there, with their beaks in the open air, they fought and struggled
until they were exhausted.

Remember, O inept one, what happened but a little while ago; think of
the tunnel that led you hither! If that poor brain of yours contains
an atom of ability, put two ideas together and remind yourself that
the passage by which you entered is there and open for your escape!
You will do nothing of the kind. The light, an irresistible
attraction, holds you subjugated against the palisade; and the shadow
of the yawning pit, which has but lately permitted you to enter and
will quite as readily permit you to go out, leaves you indifferent. To
recognize the use of this opening you would have to reflect a little,
to recall the past; but this tiny retrospective calculation is beyond
your powers. So the trapper, returning a few days later, will find a
rich booty, the entire flock imprisoned!

Of poor intellectual repute, does the Turkey deserve his name for
stupidity? He does not appear to be more limited than another. Audubon
depicts him as endowed with certain useful ruses, in particular when
he has to baffle the attacks of his nocturnal enemy, the Virginian
Owl. As for his behaviour in the snare with the underground passage,
any other bird, impassioned of the light, would do the same.

Under rather more difficult conditions, the Necrophorus repeats the
ineptness of the Turkey. When he wishes to return to the daylight,
after resting in a short burrow against the rim of the cover, the
Beetle, seeing a little light filtering through the loose soil,
reascends the entrance-well, incapable of telling himself that he has
only to prolong the tunnel as far in the opposite direction to reach
the outer world beyond the wall and gain his freedom. Here again is