In Search of Goliathus Hercules (17 page)

“Oh,” said Henri. He turned to the professor, who had a very serious look on his face.

“Mr. Bell, I have recorded fourteen distinct combinations of clicks that these beetles make, yet I did not understand your clicks. Clearly they are responding to you. Please tell me what you are talking about,” said the flustered Professor Young.

Henri didn’t want to insult the professor so he chose his words carefully. “Well professor, I think that there may be more than fourteen different clicks, but they aren’t perceptible to your ear. The beetles have noticed that your, um, vocabulary is limited and they’re, um, a bit disappointed since they would like to get to know you better.”

“Really! Well, Mr. Bell, do continue to speak with them. I would like to record the conversation—the clicks—for my research.” He swiftly walked to the desk and returned with pen and paper.

Henri leaned back over the case. “You know, the professor is trying very hard, but he’s not a young man. I think he can’t hear you properly. That’s probably why he has never learned to say anything else, but he wants to.”

“Oh, let’s not talk about him anymore. Let’s talk about you, Henri Bell. What brings you here?”

“Well, I want to find out how it is that I can speak to insects, and I was hoping the professor could tell me.”

“Wasting your time. He won’t have a clue. Now, we hear you’re running a circus. I’d like to join. Can I?”

Henri felt rather uncomfortable. He was looking for answers, not recruits. “I’m sorry. We don’t have any unfilled positions at the moment, but if we do I’ll know where to find you.”

“Great, great!” said the beetle.

Henri turned to the professor, who was still scribbling. “Wonderful!” he said. “Could you give me a brief synopsis of the conversation?” He stood with his pen at the ready.

“Oh, well. Um, they know me, or I should say they know
about
me. Most insects seem to. I’m currently working in a circus, developing an insect show and, um, some of them asked if they could join.”

“Amazing! Now would you mind if we sit down and I can repeat back the clicks I recorded? You can tell me if I’ve got them right.” He looked at Henri expectantly.

“Well, Professor Young, that might take a long time, and I have to get back to the circus today.”

“Oh.” The professor looked rather disappointed. “Could you come back tomorrow?”

“It’s a traveling circus, sir. I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Oh. Yes, well…perhaps I’ll read it in your book then. You are writing a book? Or will you be presenting a paper? Maybe at the next Entomological Society of America conference?”

“No, professor. I’m not writing a book, and I won’t be giving a paper, whatever that is. Sir, I’m just a kid. I’m ten years old. I can speak to insects, and I was hoping you could tell me why.”

They moved away from the case and sat down, the professor behind his desk and Henri in the chair in front of it. There was silence. Professor Young stared at Henri for a few seconds, and then he said,“Mr. Bell.”

“Please call me Henri, sir.”

“All right, then you must call me Daniel. Anyway, Henri, you are a most unusual person. How long have you been speaking to insects, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“About seven months,” said Henri. “A fly spoke to me first, and I just responded to him. It’s only recently that I even realized I was speaking another language. I just thought they understood English.”

“Can you speak all insect languages—or perhaps I should ask first: is there one language that is understood by all species?”

“I think there is one language, but there are perhaps different dialects. Do you have any idea why I can speak to them, sir—I mean, Daniel?”

“Henri, I have spent nearly forty years of my life trying to communicate with insects. Today I am humbled to meet a young man who has surpassed my own skill in such a short time. Why or how you’ve done it, I can only speculate. You must have acutely sensitive hearing and an aptitude for language.”

“Um…I don’t think I have any aptitude for language, sir. I only just scraped by in Latin class.”

“Yes, well, Latin can be a bit of a challenge. Perhaps your interest in insect languages is far greater than your interest in Latin.” The professor smiled.

“That would be true,” said Henri.

“I am a scientist. It is my job to interpret and explain things, but I am at a loss. You have a gift, Henri. Perhaps in time we shall know the answer. I suggest we keep in touch and that you inform me of any developments.”

Henri looked down at his hands and flexed them. They felt stiff today. He had really been hoping the professor would know the answer. “Sure. We can do that. What about
Goliathus hercules
? I read about it in the newspaper. Do you think it’s real?”

“I do. There’s a lot of speculation, but usually there is at least a grain of truth behind a myth.

“I think that
Goliathus hercules
is an insect with some unique characteristics. I have read that it has gold-tipped horns, and that its ferocious nature has inspired the armor of the Japanese Samurai warrior. You see, Henri, we humans look to the glory of nature for inspiration. Let us consider the legend of scarab beetle, sometimes called the dung beetle. Do you know that the ancient Egyptians revered the scarab?”

Henri shook his head no.

“It was an important symbol. The ancients observed the lowly beetle rolling a perfectly rounded ball of dung upon the ground. They recognized that just as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, so the dung beetle moved its spherical burden across the earth. Thus a mere beetle became the symbol of that giver of life, the sun. Often the most famous rulers in history have been compared to the sun, so great is their power. So even the lowly dung beetle is a remarkable creature and this
Goliathus hercules
, well, he must be quite extraordinary. I believe he exists, and you are just the man to capture him and show him to the world!”

H
enri had a lot to think about on his train ride back to the circus. Yet, he didn’t have much opportunity because Professor Young had insisted on coming with him to see the world premiere of the Greatest Little Show on Earth. While the professor was not able to give Henri any insight into why he was able to speak to insects, he was certainly not the fool that the patent-leather beetles made him out to be.

He was a wealth of information and had numerous suggestions as to types of insects Henri should seek out for the circus. For example, if he wanted a spotlight, he should get a type of luminescent click beetle. “Order
Coleoptera
, family
Elateridae
, and you would be needing genus
Pyrophorus
, Henri. Those click beetles have luminescent spots on the hind corners of the pronotum. Why, they provide so much light, you could read a book in the dead of night for several hours! They are found in various parts of South America.”

Now it was Henri who found himself rapidly scribbling notes as the professor suggested more and more insects he should consider for the show. “You must travel to Siam,” exclaimed the professor. “You can audition some of the most splendid singers in the world because there, you will find the greatest diversity of cicadas. Order
Homoptera
, suborder
Auchenorrhyncha
in the superfamily
Cicadoidea
.”

That evening the flea-circus tent was filled to capacity with eager spectators. Robin, Billy, and Professor Young sat front and center. Andre, the World’s Strongest Man, Herbert Kramer the Lion Tamer, and Hope and Charity, the Conjoined Twins, were also there. It was already clear that Henri and the maestro would have to do more than one performance that evening because so many people had been turned away. They entered the tent for the performance and the audience fell silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you are in for a real treat tonight! I am Maestro Antonio, as you all know, and this is my assistant extraordinaire, Enrico!” There was an enthusiastic round of applause. “Tonight my Amazing Flying Flea Circus is transformed into Maestro Antonio’s Menagerie of Insects, and you are about to see the Greatest Little Show on Earth! Enrico, dim the lights!”

As soon as the lights were down, out flew hundreds of fireflies in formation. In unison, the synchronous fireflies spelled out:

After that, they rose and fell like real fireworks bursting into flowers and pinwheels of fire and light. The audience was enraptured, exclaiming with
ohs
and
ahs.
When the last light went out, they cheered and clapped wildly. When the applause died down, the spectators sat expectantly in the dark as Maestro Antonio began his presentation.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, consider the lowly insect. Perhaps you have never given them much of a thought beyond how annoying they can be—that pinch of the mosquito, the sting of the wasp. Tonight, however, you shall walk out of this tent and say insects are one of the most amazing creatures on this great earth! Did you know that there are estimated to be thirty million—yes, thirty million—different species? That represents more than ninety percent of the life forms on this planet. Not only are they the most numerous animal on earth but also the most diverse, as you will discover here tonight. Have you ever stopped to consider that they might be great singers and musicians?”

With that, the lights came up and the music started. Within the glass tank sat an orchestra of cicadas, crickets, katydids, and grasshoppers playing a tune that sounded a bit like the organ music played on the merry-go-round. This had taken a long time to develop because the insect musicians only knew their own songs. Henri had taken them for many rides on the merry-go-round to hear the tune that he had been punch-drunk with dizziness by the time he got off.

As the orchestra concluded their introductory number, Maestro Antonio announced, “And now our company of dancing butterflies and moths will perform ‘Waltz of the Flowers’ from Tchaikovsky’s
Nutcracker Suite
in an aerial ballet.”

Henri wasn’t sure that Tchaikovsky would have recognized his own composition as sung by insects, but it sounded sweet and melodic. There was a whirling of kaleidoscopic color in the air as the partnered butterflies moved perfectly in time to the music, and as the song approached its conclusion, the luna moth gently rose from the bottom of the case and appeared in the center as if he himself were the sugar plum fairy.

The ballet ended and the orchestra started into a lively tune as the circus performers entered, riding on three large scarab beetles that lumbered in just like the elephants in the big top. The insects riding on the beetles’ backs waved colorful flags.

The rings of fire act remained a crowd favorite. Giovanni pulled the chariot, but now five fleas rode in the back of it, balanced one on top of the other and waving flags in four of their six arms. As Maestro Antonio announced each act, he also gave interesting little facts about the insect performers.

Another innovation for the circus was costumes. As all the fleas had attended at least one big top performance, they knew that costumes were essential. Fabio insisted that he would no longer be performing “naked,” and when the others heard that, they demanded costumes as well. This was no easy task as the fleas were very small. Henri had chuckled to himself as he watched the fleas strutting about showing off their costumes before the performance began.

For the final act, Umberto came out to the center ring and stood in his new lion tamer outfit to put the supposedly furious tiger beetles through their paces. Henri had also found some stag beetles with menacing-looking pinchers. Neither insect was in fact vicious, but the audience didn’t know it, and the beetles put on an excellent act. They snapped, leaped, and eventually let Umberto “tame” them. He had them jump up onto spools of thread, stand on their hind legs, and form a pyramid. To the audience, he appeared to be the brave and invincible lion tamer.

When Umberto’s act was over, the scarab beetles reappeared, and the performers jumped up on their backs again to leave the ring. They waved to the crowd as the musicians sang the closing number. As they exited, the lights dimmed once again and the fireflies returned for an encore spelling of
Thank you, come again
before bursting into cascading waves of lights.