Not a wince, not a movement of the skin; no sign of awakened attention.

I succeed no better when I scratch the wood close by with a hard point, to imitate the sound of some neighbouring larva gnawing the intervening thickness.
The indifference to my noisy tricks could be no greater in a lifeless object.

The animal is deaf.
Can it smell?
Everything tells us no.

Scent is of assistance in the search for food.

But the Capricorn grub need not go in quest of eatables: it feeds on its home, it lives on the wood that gives it shelter.