The larva must wander at hazard, must make a pilgrimage of indefinite duration before finding a favourable place.

Very many, no doubt, perish, exhausted by their fruitless search.

A voyage of exploration in a country a few inches wide evidently forms part of the curriculum of young Cigales.

In my glass prison, so luxuriously furnished, this pilgrimage is useless.

Never mind: it must be accomplished according to the consecrated rites.
At last my wanderers grow less excited.