All during the cold season, whenever the weather relents a little, it issues discreetly from its lodging, at nightfall, and gathers, in the immediate neighbourhood of its dwelling, a few fragments of sheep-dung and ancient olives which the summer suns have dried.

It stacks them in a row at the end of its burrow, closes the door, and consumes them.

When the food is broken up and exhausted of its meagre juices it returns to the surface and renews its store.

Thus the winter passes, famine being unknown unless the weather is exceptionally hard.
The second insect which I have observed for so long among the pines is the Bolboceras.

Its burrows, scattered here and there, higgledy-piggledy with those of the Minotaur, are easy to recognise.