All the haricots suit it, black and white, red and variegated, large and small; those of the latest crop and those which have been many years in stock and are almost completely refractory to boiling water.  The loose beans are attacked by preference, as being easier to invade, but when the loose beans are not available those in the natural shelter of their pods are attacked with equal zest.  However dry and parchment-like the pods, the grubs have no difficulty in attaining the seeds.  When attacked in the field or garden, the bean is attacked in this way through the pod.  The bean known in Provence as the blind haricot—­lou faiou borgne—­a bean with a long pod, which is marked with a black spot at the navel, which has the look of a closed and blackened eye, is also greatly appreciated; indeed, I fancy my little guests show an obvious preference for this particular bean.

So far, nothing abnormal; the Bruchus does not wander beyond the limits of the botanical family Phaseolus.  But here is a characteristic that increases the peril, and shows us this lover of beans in an unexpected light.  Without the slightest hesitation it accepts the dry pea, the bean, the vetch, the tare, and the chick-pea; it goes from one to the other, always satisfied; its offspring live and prosper in all these seeds as well as in the haricot.  Only the lentil is refused, perhaps on account of its insufficient volume.  The American weevil is a formidable experimentalist.

The peril would be much greater did the insect pass from leguminous seeds to cereals, as at first I feared it might.  But it does not do so; imprisoned in my bottles together with a handful of wheat, barley, rice, or maize, the Bruchus invariably perished and left no offspring.  The result was the same with oleaginous seeds:  such as castor-oil and sunflower.  Nothing outside the bean family is of any use to the Bruchus.  Thus limited, its portion is none the less considerable, and it uses and abuses it with the utmost energy.  The eggs are white, slender, and cylindrical.  There is no method in their distribution, no choice in their deposition.  The mother lays them singly or in little groups, on the walls of the jar as well as on the haricots.  In her negligence she will even lay them on maize, coffee, castor-oil seeds, and other seeds, on which the newly born grubs will promptly perish, not finding them to their taste.  What place has maternal foresight here?  Abandoned no matter where in the heap of seeds, the eggs are always in place, as it is left to the grub to search and to find the points of invasion.

In five days at most the egg is hatched.  A little white creature with a red-brown head emerges.  It is a mere speck of a creature, just visible to the naked eye.  Its body is thickened forward, to give more strength to its implements—­its mandibles—­which have to perforate the hard substance of the dry bean, which is as tough as wood.  The larvae of the Buprestis and the Capricornis, which burrow in the trunks of trees, are similarly shaped.  Directly it issues from the egg the wriggling creature makes off at random with an activity we should hardly expect in one so young.  It wanders hither and thither, eager to find food and shelter as soon as possible.