In devouring a brother whose damaged armour lent itself to any easy attack my beetles had not the excuse of hunger.
Is it their custom to kill the wounded and to eviscerate such of their fellows as suffer damage?
Pity is unknown among insects.

At the sight of the desperate struggles of a crippled fellow-creature none of the same family will cry a halt, none will attempt to come to its aid.

Among the carnivorous insects the matter may develop to a tragic termination.

With them, the passers-by will often run to the cripple.

But do they do so in order to help it?
By no means: merely to taste its flesh, and, if they find it agreeable, to perform the most radical cure of its ills by devouring it.
It is possible, therefore, that the Gardener with the injured wing-covers had tempted his fellows by the sight of his imperfectly covered back.