surrounding them; they gnaw rather to open a way than to fill their
stomachs.

Finally one of the excavators, favored by the direction taken, attains
the central portion. It establishes itself there, and all is over; the
others have only to die. How are they warned that the place is taken? Do
they hear their brother gnawing at the walls of his lodging? can they
feel the vibration set up by his nibbling mandibles? Something of the
kind must happen, for from that moment they make no attempt to burrow
further. Without struggling against the fortunate winner, without
seeking to dislodge him, those which are beaten in the race give
themselves up to death. I admire this candid resignation on the part of
the departed.

Another condition--that of space--is also present as a factor. The pea
weevil is the largest of our Bruchidae. When it attains the adult
stage, it requires a certain amplitude of lodging, which the other
weevils do not require in the same degree. A pea provides it with a
sufficiently spacious cell; nevertheless, the cohabitation of two in one
pea would be impossible; there would be no room, even were the two to
put up with a certain discomfort. Hence the necessity of an inevitable
decimation, which will suppress all the competitors save one.

Now the superior volume of the broad bean, which is almost as much
beloved by the weevil as the pea, can lodge a considerable community,
and the solitary can live as a cenobite. Without encroaching on the
domain of their neighbors, five or six or more can find room in the one
bean.

Moreover, each grub can find its infant diet; that is, that layer which,