It raised its head and froze in this posture as if to threaten an enemy, then resumed its march again. Its carapace gleamed in the sun. Its pincers snapped audibly on nothing. Occasionally it would grip a stalk of sturdier grass with them and, as if searching for a better view of its surroundings, it would hoist itself up, only to let itself drop once it had reached the top of the stalk or the upper side of a leaf, and lay motionless on the ground. It would remain almost completely immobile for a while, then suddenly continue on its way with a violent start, or it would circle around the next stalk and burrow its head in the earth at the base, or it would turn and set off in the opposite direction. Again and again, it would stop dead, perhaps sensing a threat. Then it would struggle on, its body rising and falling, towards a cluster of paving stones set in the grass and leading to a gravel path. The carapace creaked as it scraped the stones, and the animal stumbled and fell onto its back. It jerked itself back onto its feet and crawled into the cooler grass, continuing its march. The struggle seemed to tire the animal since it frequently stopped to lie full length on a stone, and each time it took a bit longer to lift its soft, defenceless underbelly. In one attempt to push itself off a stone, it tumbled over the edge onto the gravel. Its limbs waved in the air. Its underbelly was noticeably lighter than the rest of its body. It rose and fell continuously, swelled and collapsed in on itself. An ant ran across it, briefly touched its face, its jaws, and disappeared under the pebbles. Then the ant returned and crawled over the creature’s face and up to its eyes. The ant gnawed and tore at the eyes. It disappeared again and returned, biting deeper into the creature each time. The creature must have injured itself in the fall, because it was now dragging its left side. And yet, despite this handicap, it moved nimbly over the gravel, which was spread so sparsely in spots that patches of earth, the same colour as the creature, could be seen amongst the rocks. Whenever it reached one of these clearings, it tried to burrow into the ground, but soon gave up and hauled itself along towards the kerbstone from which it had fallen and which it intended to climb over. It did everything it could to get back to the grass, but its little legs foundered on the stone’s smoothness. It laboured almost obsessively along the edge of the path until it found a gap in the kerb through which it could squeeze onto the lawn. There it lay still for a time and began to tend to itself. It ran its antennae carefully over the damaged limbs and brushed them across its mouth. Its mandibles moved back and forth as it crouched and stretched. With a jerk it managed to flop onto one of the stones, but landed on its back. A violent trembling shook its hind legs and spread through its whole body, then abated, growing calmer until it subsided completely. Meanwhile the shovel-like forelegs banged wildly against its head. Its mouth opened and closed ceaselessly, as if begging, and its underbelly collapsed and stayed flat. Its lustre was gone except where the ants were at work. They had come out of the grass in droves and swarmed over its body. The forelegs had stopped banging and hung motionless in the grass. Its mouth was wide open. The ants crawled in and out and made off with their booty. They nibbled and gnawed at the body and hollowed it out until it was light enough. Then they carried the husk away.