4

Dung Beetle

Geotrupes stercorarius

Mighty Beech, we almost had them last night, that wretched Daddy Longlegs with his skinned-rabbit human! But Blackberry put a stop to it, and suddenly the duo disappeared. And our whole family, who had loyally been preparing the attack, gave up and just went on with their lives. I will give you all the facts, Mighty Beech, so that you and all your soldiers are completely up to date.

The full Moon was in the sky and not a cloud blocked its light. Its rays fell gracefully onto the majestic beeches and oaks. In the dancing patches of light under the gently swaying trees, it seemed to be day again. We had been tipped off that Daddy Longlegs planned to take the Big Head with the rabbit-skin bag to eat at Blackberry’s. There were a lot of us, and as you know, our clan communicate easily with each other with those chirping hind legs of ours. We had spread ourselves out so that we could easily keep track of Daddy Longlegs. However, our clumsy bodies are not that agile. We thought we should attack him en masse if he stopped somewhere. It seemed almost as if he suspected pursuit, because he was diving under thorn bushes, pushing through dense grasses and into dark hollows where withered beech leaves block every single ray of light. That wonderful darkness is our habitat, full of the most delicious smells, textures and flavours. But the little Big Head, hanging on Daddy Longlegs’ back, clearly did not feel at ease. We noticed a moist skin odour, which we recognize from humans who go running in the forest. Daddy Longlegs must have noticed it too, because he started to vary his route. My brother flew above him, while Daddy Longlegs chose the harder path along the swaying grassy ridges. We were lucky that the little Big Head did not notice us. But then she didn’t see anything, even though the whole Mad Oak fan club was strung out to greet her along the way. She didn’t signal back to them, she didn’t notice the dancing fireflies that guided them to Blackberry. She didn’t hear the crickets that greeted them. She didn’t feel the presence of the old poplars who, together with the south wind, gave them a rustling welcome. She didn’t even notice the brown owl who accompanied them. She stared blankly ahead. Like my siblings, I did my utmost to stay focused on their route, while being swamped by the blue, green, yellow, and red vision pouring out of the Big Head. The images went on for so long and were so aggressive that I had to take a break. To our great surprise, even the Sun appeared in the Big Head’s thoughts.

‘Such a creature longs for daylight and colours!’ A good observation by my clever sister. It never occurred to me that humans are not comfortable in the grey-black of the night. How lucky for us! Otherwise they would come and bother us at night too. Imagine! I do occasionally smell a Big Head being abroad at night, wandering about in the darkness, and who usually emits very soft waves. Completely different from the hordes of cyclists and runners with their ears blocked by music during the day, who crush us thoughtlessly under their heavy shoes.

They were passing a well-matured, putrid Tinder Fungus, where some of my family members, in the company of quite a few other insects, were having a small feast. Daddy Longlegs must have smelled the delicacy too. The fungus was enormous and lay there just like that, between the bone-dry leaves.

‘Get ready,’ my brother signalled. ‘That Daddy Longlegs is considering his chances. I don’t think he’s found such a delicious snack in days and he probably assumes that the carrion flies, ants and other small scum that feed on a rotting mushroom would not be interested in human flesh anyway.’

So we signalled to the family and took up our positions.

As we anticipated, Daddy Longlegs crawled up along the hardened, fleshy walls of the big fungus. My first disappointment: our relatives that had all been snacking on it were too intoxicated to react quickly. I immediately signalled to the others who were keeping watch further away.

‘Come here, everyone, to Tinder Fungus!’

Everyone wanted to get close to see the Big Head. The curiosity of woodland creatures is never satisfied. The little girl panicked. She screamed all sorts of ugly sounds. Waves of fear rolled out of her. A tiny spider dared to land on her arm. I tried everything in the world to squeeze myself in between the mass of crawling creatures, but there was no way. My brother and I attempted to get on top of the other insects so we could surround them, when the attacking cry of an eagle owl cut through the tangle and jerked us back to reality. The bird was swooping down between the beeches. Like us, he was after the Big Head!

Daddy Longlegs came to his senses and ran as fast as he could to get himself and the girl to safety. We fervently hoped that the girl would be scraped off and that he would lose her in the darkness as he dived into the undergrowth. They got to Blackberry’s via a shortcut. Great! It would give us another chance, because in the meantime the rest of our beetle gang had settled there. Exhausted, Daddy Long Legs greeted the bush.

‘Leave as soon as possible,’ was Blackberry’s only response. She is also clearly being manipulated by Mad Oak.

Grandfather went ahead and gave the signal to attack. I could see that we wouldn’t have much time. We flew in formation to the lowest leaves of Blackberry. By now there were hundreds of us. We all wheeled round and aimed straight at Daddy Longlegs and the Big Head.

But Blackberry screamed, ‘Run! Now!’

Why does everyone cooperate so submissively with Mad Oak? Daddy Longlegs reacted like lightning. With giant steps he leapt away from Blackberry, taking care to keep under cover. Our attack had failed. I flew up to follow him, but the others had given up in the meantime. They had found some dry rabbit droppings under Bramble, which they could not resist.

So it was a rout. Still, I don’t want to end this report on such a down note. Let me pass on something unusual, that could turn out to be important. They had only just left when I noticed how the Big Head was producing mineral smells. I focused my senses. By all the Holy Fungi, it couldn’t be true! It was metal. Flying closer, I watched as the tiny human chopped through Daddy Longlegs’ right hind leg with something sharp! I didn’t understand a thing. Was this a human attempt at suicide? The metallic smell disappeared again. Do Big Heads carry murder weapons with them? Does this mean that we are in even greater danger than we thought?

We saw the lost leg wriggling vainly and alone. It didn’t stop Daddy Longlegs running. He scampered up and down the thorniest plants, the little Big Head hanging on with both hands. I lost sight of them as they dived into the deeper undergrowth.

So, Mighty Beech, we did our best, but luck was not on our side this time. The tide will turn, you’ll see. We still have a lot of time. And even though the slaves of Mad Oak are many, so are we. And the Big Heads, even though they are dangerous, are conspicuous targets, and we reckon we can easily get the better of them. It requires more training, insight and strategy. We will get there. And if you ask me, Daddy Longlegs and many of his colleagues will soon change sides and join our gang. Because, let’s face it, who wants to risk their life for a ridiculous Big Head?

Well, that’s it for now, I’m ready for a break, before we launch another attack.