Here is an excellent flock for the slaughter-house of the Carabi.
I capture them and place them in the insectorium.

The procession is quickly re-formed; the caterpillars, to the number of perhaps a hundred and fifty, move forward in an undulating line.

They pass near the piece of board, one following the other like the pigs at Chicago.

The moment is propitious.

I cry Havoc! and let loose the dogs of war: that is to say, I remove the plank.
The sleepers immediately awake, scenting the abundant prey.