Now what has happened that these lives around the privileged one should be thus annihilated?
In default of a satisfactory reply, I will propose a suggestion.
In the centre of the pea, less ripened than the rest of the seed by the chemistry of the sun, may there not be a softer pulp, of a quality better adapted to the infantile digestion of the grub?
There, perhaps, being nourished by tenderer, sweeter, and perhaps more tasty tissues, the stomach becomes more vigorous, until it is fit to undertake less easily digested food.

A nursling is fed on milk before proceeding to bread and broth.

May not the central portion of the pea be the feeding-bottle of the Bruchid?
With equal rights, fired by an equal ambition, all the occupants of the pea bore their way towards the delicious morsel.

The journey is laborious, and the grubs must rest frequently in their provisional niches.

They rest; while resting they frugally gnaw the riper tissues surrounding them; they gnaw rather to open a way than to fill their stomachs.
Finally one of the excavators, favoured by the direction taken, attains the central portion.