More hunting wasps. Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos

preeented to
Of tbc

TUnivewiti? of (Toronto
Bertram 1R. Davia

from tbe booftd of

the late Xtonel Davla, lk.<r.

MORE HUNTING WASPS

BOOKS BY J. HENRI FABRE

THE LIFE OF THE SPIDER

THE LIFE OF THE FLY

THE MASON-BEES

BRAMBLE-BEES AND OTHERS

THE HUNTING WASPS

THE LIFE OF THE CATERPILLAR

THE LIFE OF THE GRASSHOPPER

THE SACRED BEETLE AND OTHERS

THE MASON- WASPS

THE GLOW-WORM AND OTHER

BEETLES

MORE HUNTING WASPS

INSECT ADVENTURES

2

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^^g2

■ ^ MORE HUNTING
WASPS

BY

J. HENRI FABRE

translated by
Alexander Teixeira de Mattos

FELLOW OF THB ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY OF LONDON

NEW YORK

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY

1921

»^S^^^

^^^^^Sr^a^^^fe^

COPTRiailT, 1921,

By DODD, mead AND COMPANY, Ino.

/3

VAIL-BALLOU COMPANY

nnSHAMTOM AND NEW TORK

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE

The fourteen chapters contained in this
volume complete the list of essays in the
Souvenirs entomologiques devoted to Wasps.
The remainder will be found in the two
earlier volumes of this collected edition en-
titled The Hunting Wasps and The Mason-
wasps respectively.

Chapter 11. has appeared before, in my
version of The Life and Love of the In-
sect, an illustrated volume of extracts trans-
lated by myself and published by Messrs.
Adam and Charles Black (in America by the
Macmillan Co.), and Chapter X. in a sim-
ilar miscellany translated by Mr. Bernard
Miall, published by Messrs. T. Fisher Un-
win Ltd. (in America by the Century Co.)
under the title of Social Life in the Insect
World. These two chapters are included
in the present book by arrangement with the
original firms.

I wish to place on record my thanks to
'Mr. Miall for the valuable assistance which
he has given me in preparing this transla-
tion.

Alexander Teixeira de Mattos.
Ventnor, L W., 6 December, 1920.

CONTENTS

PAGE

translator's note ... V

I THE POMPILI I

II THE SCOLI^ 30

III A DANGEROUS DIET . . .55

IV THE CETONIA-LARVA . . .82
V THE PROBLEM OF THE SCOLI^ . IO4

VI THE TACHYTES 1 27

VII CHANGE OF DIET . . . . 166

VIII A DIG AT THE EVOLUTIONISTS . 203

IX RATIONING ACCORDING TO SEX . 214 —

X THE BEE-EATING PHILANTHUS . 243

XI THE METHOD OF THE AMMO-

pniLJE 285

XII THE METHOD OF THE SCOLI^ . 308 ^

XIII THE METHOD OF THE CALICURGI 324

XIV OBJECTIONS AND REJOINDERS . 347
INDEX 369

CHAPTER I

THE POMPILI ^

THE Ammophila's ^ caterpillar, the Bem-
bex' ^ Gad-fly, the Cerceris' * Buprestis'*
and Weevil, the Sphex' ^ Locust, Cricket
and Ephippiger "^ : all these inoffensive peace-
able victims are like the silly Sheep of
our slaughter-houses; they allow themselves
to be operated upon by the paralyser, submit-
ting stupidly, without offering much resist-
ance. The mandibles gape, the legs kick
and protest, the body wriggles and twists;
and that is all. They have no weapons capa-
ble of contending with the assassin's dagger.

iThis essay should be read in conjunction with that on
the Black-bellied Tarantula. Cf. The Life of the Spider,
by J. Henri Fabre, translated by Alexander Teixeira de
Mattos: chap. i. — Translator's Note.

2 Cf. The Hunting Wasps, by J. Henri Fabre, translated
by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chaps, xiii. and xviii. to
XX. ; and Chapter XI. of the present volume. — Translator's
Note.

8 Cf . idem: chap. xlv. — Translator's Note.

■* Cf . idem: chaps, i. to iii. — Translator's Note.

5 A Beetle usually remarkable for her brilliant colouring.
Cf. idem: chap. i. — Translator's Note.

« Cf . idem: chaps, iv. to x. — Translator's Note.

'' Cf. The Life of the Grasshopper, by J. Henri Fabre,
translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chaps, xiii.
and xiv. — Translator's Note.
I

More Hunting Wasps

I should like to see the huntress grappling
with an imposing adversary, one as crafty
as herself, an expert layer of ambushes and,
like her, bearing a poisoned dirk. I should
like to see the bandit armed with her stiletto
confronted by another bandit equally famil-
iar with the use of that weapon. Is such
a duel possible? Yes, it is quite possible
and even quite common. On the one hand

we have the Pompili, the protagonists who
are always victorious; on the other hand we
have the Spiders, the protagonists who are
always overthrown.

Who that has diverted himself, however
little, with the study of insects does not know
the Pompili? Against old walls, at the foot
of the banks beside unfrequented foot-
paths, in the stubble after the harvest, in
the tangles of dry grass, wherever the Spider
spreads her nets, who has not seen them
busily at work, now running hither and
thither, at random, their wings raised and
quivering above their backs, now moving
from place to place In flights long or short?
They are hunting for a quarry which might
easily turn the tables and itself prey upon the
trapper lying In wait for it.

The Pompili feed their larvae solely on
Spiders; and the Spiders feed on any insect,

The Pompili

commensurate with their size, that is caught
in their nets. While the first possess a sting,
the second have two poisoned fangs. Often
their strength is equally matched; indeed the
advantage is not seldom on the Spider's side.
The Wasp has her ruses of war, her cun-
ningly premeditated strokes: the Spider has
her wiles and her set traps; the first has the
advantage of great rapidity of movement,
while the second is able to rely upon her
perfidious web ; the one has a sting which con-
trives to penetrate the exact point to cause
paralysis, the other has fangs which bite the
back of the neck and deal sudden death.
We find the paralyser on the one hand and
the slaughterer on the other. Which of the
two will become the other's prey?

If we consider only the relative strength of
the adversaries, the power of their weapons,
the virulence of their poisons and their differ-
ent modes of action, the scale would very
often be weighted in favour of the Spider.
Since the Pompilus always emerges victori-
ous from this contest, which appears to be
full of peril for her, she must have a special
method, of which I would fain learn the
secret.

In our part of the country, the most pow-
erful and courageous Spider-huntress is the
3

More Hunting Wasps

Ringed Pompilus {Calicurgus annulatus,
FAB.), clad in black and yellow. She
stands high on her legs; and her wings have
black tips, the rest being yellow, as though
exposed to smoke, like a bloater. Her size
is about that of the Hornet {Vespa crahro).
She is rare. I see three or four of her in
the course of the year; and I never fail to
halt in the presence of the proud insect,
rapidly striding through the dust of the fields
when the dog-days arrive. Its audacious
air, its uncouth gait, its war-like bearing long
made me suspect that to obtain its prey it
had to make some impossible, terrible, un-
speakable capture. And my guess was cor-
rect. By dint of waiting and watching I
beheld that victim; I saw it in the huntress'
mandibles. It is the Black-bellied Taran-
tula, the terrible Spider who slays a Carpen-
ter-bee or a Bumble-bee outright with one
stroke of her weapon; the Spider who kills
a Sparrow or a Mole; the formidable crea-
ture whose bite would perhaps not be with-
out danger to ourselves. Yes, this is the
bill of fare which the proud Pompilus pro-
vides for her larva.

This spectacle, one of the most striking
with which the Hunting Wasps have ever
provided me, has as yet been offered to my
4

The Pompili

eyes but once ; and that was close beside my
rural home, in the famous laboratory of the
harmas.^ I can still see the intrepid poacher
dragging by the leg, at the foot of a wall,
the monstrous prize which she had just se-
cured, doubtless at no great distance. At
the base of the wall was a hole, an accidental
chink between some of the stones. The
Wasp inspected the cavern, not for the first
time : she had already reconnoitred it and
the premises had satisfied her. The prey,
deprived of the power of movement, was
waiting somewhere, I know not where; and
the huntress had gone back to fetch it and
store it away. It was at this moment that
I met her. The Pompilus gave a last glance
at the cave, removed a few small fragments
of loose mortar; and with that her prepara-
tions were completed. The Lycosa^ was
Introduced, dragged along, belly upwards,
by one leg. I did not interfere. Presently
the Wasp reappeared on the surface and
carelessly pushed in front of the hole the
bits of mortar which she had just extracted

1 The enclosed piece of waste land on which the author
studied his insects in their native state. Cf. The Life of
the Fly, by J. Henri Fabre, translated by Alexander
Teixeira de Mattos : chap. i. — Translator's Note.

2 The Spider in question is known indifferently as the
Black-bellied Tarantula and the Narbonne Lycosa. —
Translator's Note.

5

More Hunting Wasps

from it. Then she flew away. It was all
over. The egg was laid; the insect had fin-
ished for better or for worse; and I was able
to proceed with my examination of the bur-
row and its contents.

The Pompilus has done no digging. It
is really an accidental hole with spacious
winding passages, the result of the mason's
negligence and not of the Wasp's industry.
The closing of the cavity is quite as rough
and summary. A few crumbs of mortar,
heaped up before the doorway, form a bar-
ricade rather than a door. A mighty hunter
makes a poor architect. The Tarantula's
murderess does not know how to dig a cell
for her larva ; she does not know how to fill
up the entrance by sweeping dust into it.
The first hole encountered at the foot of a
wall contents her, provided that it be roomy
enough; a little heap of rubbish will do for
a door. Nothing could be more expeditious.

I withdraw the game from the hole. The
egg is stuck to the Spider, near the begin-
ning of the belly. A clumsy movement on
my part makes it fall off at the moment of
extraction. It is all over : the thing will not
hatch; I shall not be able to observe the
development of the larva. The Tarantula
lies motionless, flexible as in life, with not
6

The Pompili

a trace of a wound. In short, we have here
life without movement. From time to time
the tips of the tarsi quiver a little; and that
is all. Accustomed of old to these deceptive
corpses, I can see in my mind's eye what has
happened: the Spider has been stung in the
region of the thorax, no doubt once only,
in view of the concentration of her nervous
system. I place the victim in a box in which
it retains all the pliancy and all the fresh-
ness of life from the 2nd of August to the
20th of September, that is to say, for seven
weeks. These miracles are famiUar to us; ^
there is no need to linger over them here. '
The most important matter has escaped
me. What I wanted, what I still want to
see is the Pompilus engaged in mortal com-
bat with the Lycosa. What a duel, in which
the cunning of the one has to overcome the
terrible weapons of the other! Does the
Wasp enter the burrow to surprise the Ta-
rantula at the bottom of her lair? Such
temerity would be fatal to her. Where the
big Bumble-bee dies an instant death, the
audacious visitor would perish the moment
she entered. Is not the other there, facing
her, ready to snap at the back of her head,
inflicting a wound which would result in sud-

1 Cf, The Hunting Wasps: passim. — Translator's Note.
7

More Hunting Wasps

den death? No, the Pompilus does not en-
ter the Spider's parlour, that is obvious.
Does she surprise the Spider outside her
fortress? But the Lycosa is a stay-at-home
animal; I do not see her straying abroad
during the summer. Later, in the autumn,
when the Pompili have disappeared, she
wanders about; turning gipsy, she takes the
open air with her numerous family, which she
carries on her back. Apart from these ma-
ternal strolls, she does not appear to me to
leave her castle; and the Pompilus, I should
think, has no great chance of meeting her
outside. The problem, we perceive, is be-
coming complicated; the huntress cannot
make her way into the burrow, where she
would risk sudden death; and the Spider's
sedentary habits make an encounter outside
the burrow improbable. Here is a riddle
which would be interesting to decipher. Let
us endeavour to do so by observing other
Spider-hunters; analogy will enable us to
draw a conclusion.

I have often watched Pompili of every
species on their hunting-expeditions, but I
have never surprised them entering the
Spider's lodging when the latter was at
home. Whether this lodging be a funnel
plunging its neck into a hole in some wall,
6

The Pompili

an awning stretched amid the stubble, a tent
modelled upon the Arab's, a sheath formed
of a few leaves bound together, or a net
with a guard-room attached, whenever the
owner is indoors the suspicious Pompilus
holds aloof. When the dwelling is vacant,
it is another matter: the Wasp moves with
arrogant ease over those webs, springes and
cables in which so many other insects would
remain ensnared. The silken threads do not
seem to have any hold upon her. What is
she doing, exploring those empty webs?
She is watching to see what is happening on
the adjacent webs where the Spider is am-
bushed. The Pompilus therefore feels an
insuperable reluctance to make straight for
the Spider when the latter is at home in the
midst of her snares. And she is right, a
hundred times over. If the Tarantula un-
derstands the practice of the dagger-thrust
in the neck, which is immediately fatal, the
other cannot be unacquainted with it. Woe
then to the imprudent Wasp who presents
herself upon the threshold of a Spider of
approximately equal strength!

Of the various instances which I have col-
lected of this cautious reserve on the Spider-
huntress' part I will confine myself to the
following, which will be sufficient to prove

9

More Hunting Wasps

my point. By joining, with silken strands,
the three folioles which form the leaf of
Virgil's cytisus, a Spider has built herself a
green arbour, a horizontal sheath, open at
either end. A questing Pompilus comes
upon the scene, finds the game to her lik-
ing and pops in her head at the entrance of
the cell. The Spider immediately retreats
to the other end. The huntress goes round
the Spider's dwelling and reappears at the
other door. Again the Spider retreats, re-
turning to the first entrance. The Wasp
also returns to it, but always by the outside.
Scarcely has she done so, when the Spider
rushes for the opposite opening; and so on
for fully a quarter of an hour, both of them
coming and going from one end of the cylin-
der to the other, the Spider inside and the
Pompilus outside.

The quarry was a valuable one, it seems,
since the Wasp persisted for a long time in
her attempts, which were invariably de-
feated; however, the huntress had to aban-
don them, baffled by this perpetual running
to and fro. The Pompilus made off; and
the Spider, once more on the watch, pa-
tiently awaited the heedless Midges. What
should the Wasp have done to capture this
much-coveted game? She should have en-

10

The Pompyi

tered the verdant cylinder, the Spider's
dwelling, and pursued the Spider direct, in
her own house, instead of remaining outside,
going from one door to the other. With
such swiftness and dexterity as hers, it
seemed to me impossible that the stroke
should fail: the quarry moved clumsily, a
little sideways, like a Crab. I judged it to
be an easy matter; the Pompilus thought it
highly dangerous. To-day I am of her opin-
ion: if she had entered the leafy tube, the
mistress of the house would have operated
on her neck and the huntress would have be-
come the quarry.

Years passed and the paralyser of the
Spiders still refused to reveal her secret; I
was badly served by circumstances, could
find no leisure, was absorbed in unrelenting
preoccupations. At length, during my last
year at Orange, the light dawned upon me.
My garden was enclosed by an old wall,
blackened and ruined by time, where, in the
chinks between the stones, lived a population
of Spiders, represented more particularly by
Segestria perfidia. This is the common
Black Spider, or Cellar Spider. She is deep
black all over, excepting the mandibles, which
are a splendid metallic green. Her two
poisoned daggers look like a product of the

II

More Hunting Wasps

metal-worker's art, like the finest bronze.
In any mass of abandoned masonry there is
not a quiet corner, not a hole the size of
one's finger, in which^ the Segestria does not
set up house. Her web is a widely flaring
funnel, whose open end, at most a span
across, lies spread upon the surface of the
wall, where it is held in place by radiating
threads. This conical surface is continued
by a tube which runs into a hole in the wall.
At the end Is the dining-room to which the
Spider retires to devour at her ease her cap-
tured prey.

With her two hind-legs stuck into the tube
to obtain a purchase and the six others spread
around the orifice, the better to perceive on
every side the quiver which gives the signal
of a capture, the Segestria waits motion-
less, at the entrance of her funnel, for an
insect to become entangled in the snare.
Large Flies, Drone-flies, dizzily grazing
some thread of the snare with their wings,
are her usual victims. At the first flutter
of the netted Fly, the Spider runs or even
leaps forward, but she is now secured by a
cord which escapes from the spinnerets and
which has Its end fastened to the silken tube.
This prevents her from falling as she darts
along a vertical surface. Bitten at the back

12

The Pompili

of the head, the Drone-fly is dead in a mo-
ment; and the Segestria carries him into her
lair.

Thanks to this method and these hunting-
appHances — an ambush at the bottom of a
silken whirlpool, radiating snares, a hfe-line
which holds her from behind and allows her
to take a sudden rush without risking a fall
— the Segestria is able to catch game less
inoffensive than the Drone-fly. A Com-
mon Wasp, they tell me, does not daunt her.
Though I have not tested this, I readily be-
lieve it, for I well know the Spider's bold-
ness.

This boldness is reinforced by the activity
of the venom. It is enough to have seen the
Segestria capture some large Fly to be con-
vinced of the overwhelming effect of her
fangs upon the insects bitten in the neck.
The death of the Drone-fly, entangled in the
silken funnel, is reproduced by the sudden
death of the Bumble-bee on entering the
Tarantula's burrow. We know the effect of
the poison on man, thanks to Antoine Du-
ges' ^ investigations. Let us listen to the
brave experimenter :

1 Antoine Louis Duges (1797-1838), a French physi-
cian and physiologist, author of a Traite de physiologie
comparee de I'homme et des animaux and other scientific
works. — Translator's Note.

13

More Hunting Wasps

" The treacherous Segestria, or Great
Cellar Spider, reputed poisonous in our part
of the country, was chosen for the principal
subject of our experiments. She was three-
quarters of an inch long, measured from the
mandibles to the spinnerets. Taking her in
my fingers from behind, by the legs, which
were folded and gathered together (this is
the way to catch hold of live Spiders, if you
would avoid their bite and master them with-
out mutilating them), I placed her on vari-
ous objects and on my clothes, without her
manifesting the least desire to do any harm;
but hardly was she laid on the bare skin of
my fore-arm when she seized a fold of the
epidermis in her powerful mandibles, which
are of a metallic green, and drove her fangs
deep into it. For a few moments she re-
mained hanging, although left free; then she
released herself, fell and fled, leaving two
tiny wounds, a sixth of an inch apart, red,
but hardly bleeding, with a slight extravasa-
tion round the edge and resembling the
wounds produced by a large pin.

" At the moment of the bite, the sensation
was sharp enough to deserve the name of
pain; and this continued for five or six mi-
nutes more, but not so forcibly. I might
compare it with the sensation produced by
14

The Pompili

the stinging-nettle. A whitish tumefaction
almost immediately surrounded the two
pricks; and the circumference, within a ra-
dius of about an inch, was coloured an ery-
sipelas red, accompanied by a very slight
swelling. In an hour and a half, it had all
disappeared, except the mark of the pricks,
which persisted for several days, as any other
small wound would have done. This was in
September, in rather cool weather. Perhaps
the symptoms would have displayed some-
what greater severity at a warmer season."
Without being serious, the effect of the
Segestria's poison is plainly marked. A
sting causing sharp pain and swelling, with
the redness of erysipelas, is no trifling mat-
ter. While Duges' experiment reassures us
in so far as we ourselves are concerned, it is
none the less the fact that the Cellar Spider's
poison is a terrible thing for insects, whether
because of the small size of the victim,
or because it acts with special efficacy
upon an organization which differs widely
from our own. One Pompilus, though
greatly inferior to the Segestria in size and
strength, nevertheless makes war upon the
Black Spider and succeeds in overpowering
this formidable quarry. This is Pompilus
IS

More Hunting Wasps

apicalis, VAN DER LIND, who is hardly
larger than the Hive-bee, but very much
slenderer. She is of a uniform black; her
wings are a cloudy brown, with transparent
tips. Let us follow her in her expeditions
to the old wall inhabited by the Segestria:
we will track her for whole afternoons du-
ring the July heats; and we will arm our-
selves with patience, for the perilous capture
of the game must take the Wasp a long time.
The Spider-huntress explores the wall
minutely; she runs, leaps and flies; she comes
and goes, flitting to and fro. The antennae
quiver; the wings, raised above the back,
continually beat one against the other. Ah,
here she is, close to a Segestria's funnel!
The Spider, who has hitherto remained in-
visible, instantly appears at the entrance to
the tube; she spreads her six fore-legs out-
side, ready to receive the huntress. Far
from fleeing before the terrible apparition,
she watches the watcher, fully prepared to
prey upon her enemy. Before this Intrepid
demeaneur the Pompilus draws back. She
examines the coveted game, walks round it
for a moment, then goes away without at-
tempting anything. When she has gone, the
Segestria retires indoors, backwards. For
the second time the Wasp passes near an
i6

The Pompili

inhabited funnel. The Spider on the look-
out at once shows herself on the threshold
of her dwelling, half out of her tube, ready
for defence and perhaps also for attack.
The Pompilus moves away and the Segestria
reenters her tube. A fresh alarm: the Pom-
pilus returns; another threatening demon-
stration on the part of the Spider. Her
neighbour, a httle later, does better than
this: while the huntress is prowling about
in the neighbourhood of the funnel, she sud-
denly leaps out of the tube, with the life-
line which will save her from falling, should
she miss her footing, attached to her spin-
nerets; she rushes forward and hurls herself
in front of the Pompilus, at a distance of
some eight inches from her burrow. The
Wasp, as though terrified, immediately de-
camps; and the Segestria no less suddenly
retreats indoors.

Here, we must admit, is a strange quarry:
it does not hide, but is eager to show itself;
it does not run away, but flings itself in front
of the hunter. If our observations were to
cease here, could we say which of the two is
the hunter and which the hunted? Should we
not feel sorry for the imprudent Pompilus?
Let a thread of the trap entangle her leg;
and it is all up with her. The other will
17

More Hunting Wasps

be there, stabbing her in the throat. What
then is the method which she employs against
the Segestria, always on the alert, ready for
defence, audacious to the point of aggres-
sion? Shall I surprise the reader if I tell
him that this problem filled me with the most
eager interest, that it held me for weeks in
contemplation before that cheerless wall?
Nevertheless, my tale will be a short one.

On several occasions I see the Pompilus
suddenly fling herself on one of the Spider's
legs, seize it with her mandibles and en-
deavour to draw the animal from its tube.
It is a sudden rush, a surprise attack, too
quick to permit the Spider to parry it. For-
tunately, the latter's two hind-legs are firmly
hooked to the dwelling; and the Segestria
escapes with a jerk, for the other, having de-
livered her shock attack, hastens to release
her hold; if she persisted, the affair might
end badly for her. Having failed in this as-
sault, the Wasp repeats the procedure at
other funnels; she will even return to the first
when the alarm is somewhat assuaged. Still
hopping and fluttering, she prowls around
the mouth, whence the Segestria watches her,
with her legs outspread. She waits for the
propitious moment; she leaps forward,
seizes a leg, tugs at it and springs out of
i8

The Pompili

reach. More often than not, the Spider
holds fast; sometimes she is dragged out of
the tube, to a distance of a few inches, but
immediately returns, no doubt with the aid
of her unbroken life-line.

The Pompilus' intention is plain: she
wants to eject the Spider from her fortress
and fling her some distance away. So much
perseverance leads to success. This time all
goes well: with a vigorous and well-timed
tug the Wasp has pulled the Segestria out
and at once lets her drop to the ground.
Bewildered by her fall and even more de-
moralized by being wrested from her am-
bush, the Spider is no longer the bold ad-
versary that she was. She draws her legs
together and cowers into a depression in the
soil. The huntress is there on the instant
to operate on the evicted animal. I have
barely time to draw near to watch the
tragedy when the victim is paralysed by a
thrust of the sting in the thorax.

Here at last, in all its Machiavellian cun-
ning, is the shrewd method of the Pompilus.
She would be risking her life if she attacked
the Segestria in her home; the Wasp is so
convinced of it that she takes good care not
to commit this imprudence; but she knows
also that, once dislodged from her dwelling,
19

More Hunting Wasps

the Spider is as timid, as cowardly as she
was bold at the centre of her funnel.
The whole point of her tactics, therefore,
lies in dislodging the creature. This done,
the rest is nothing.

The Tarantula-huntress must behave in
the same manner. Enlightened by her kins-
woman, Pompilus apicalis, my mind pictures
her wandering stealthily around the Lycosa's
rampart. The Lycosa hurries up from the
bottom of her burrow, believing that a vic-
tim is approaching; she ascends her vertical
tube, spreading her fore-legs outside, ready
to leap. But it is the Ringed Pompilus who
leaps, seizes a leg, tugs and hurls the Lycosa
from her burrow. The Spider is henceforth
a craven victim, who will let herself be
stabbed without dreaming of employing her
venomous fangs. Here craft triumphs over
strength; and this craft is not inferior to
mine, when, wishing to capture the Taran-
tula, I make her bite a spike of grass which
I dip into the burrow, lead her gently to the
surface and then with a sudden jerk throw
her outside. For the entomologist as for
the Pompilus, the essential thing is to make
the Spider leave her stronghold. After this
there is no difficulty in catching her, thanks

20

The Pompili

to the utter bewilderment of the evicted ani-
mal.

Two contrasting points impress me in the
facts which I have just set forth: the shrewd-
ness of the Pompilus and the folly of the
Spider. I will admit that the Wasp may
gradually have acquired, as being highly
beneficial to her posterity, the instinct by
which she first of all so judiciously drags the
victim from its refuge, in order there to
paralyse it without incurring danger, pro-
vided that you will explain why the Segestria,
possessing an intellect no less gifted than
that of the Pompilus, does not yet know
how to counteract the trick of which she has
so long been the victim. What would the
Black Spider need to do to escape her ex-
terminator? Practically nothing: it would
be enough for her to withdraw into her tube,
instead of coming up to post herself at the
entrance, like a sentry, whenever the enemy
is in the neighbourhood. It is very brave
of her, I agree, but also very risky.
The Pompilus will pounce upon one of the
legs spread outside the burrow for defence
and attack; and the besieged Spider will
perish, betrayed by her own boldness. This
posture is excellent when waiting for prey.

21

More Hunting Wasps

But the Wasp is not a quarry; she is an en-
emy and one of the most dreaded of enemies.
The Spider knows this. At the sight of the
Wasp, Instead of placing herself fearlessly
but foolishly on her threshold, why does she
not retreat into her fortress, where the other
would not attack her? The accumulated ex-
perience of generations should have taught
her this elementary tactical device, which is
of the greatest value to the prosperity of
her race. If the Pompllus has perfected
her method of attack, why has not the Seges-
tria perfected her method of defence? Is it
possible that centuries upon centuries should
have modified the one to its advantage with-
out succeeding in modifying the other?
Here I am utterly at a loss. And I say to
myself, in all simplicity: since the Pomplli
must have Spiders, the former have pos-
sessed their patient cunning and the other
their foolish audacity from all time. This
may be puerile, if you like to think It so, and
not In keeping with the transcendental aims of
our fashionable theorists; the argument con-
tains neither the subjective nor the objective
point of view, neither adaptation nor differ-
entiation, neither atavism nor evolutionism.
Very well, but at least I understand It.
Let us return to the habits of Pompilus

22

The Pompili

apicalis. Without expecting results of any
particular interest, for in captivity the re-
spective talents of the huntress and the
quarry seem to slumber, I place together, in
a wide jar, a Wasp and a Segestria. The
Spider and her enemy mutually avoid each
other, both being equally timid. A judicious
shake or two brings them into contact. The
Segestria, from time to time, catches hold
of the Pompilus, who gathers herself up as
best she can, without attempting to use her
sting; the Spider rolls the insect between her
legs and even between her mandibles, but
appears to dislike doing it. Once I see her
lie on her back and hold the Pompilus above
her, as far away as possible, while turning
her over in her fore-legs and munching at
her with her mandibles. The Wasp,
whether by her own adroitness or owing to
the Spider's dread of her, promptly escapes
from the terrible fangs, moves to a short
distance and does not seem to trouble un-
duly about the buffeting which she has re-
ceived. She quietly polishes her wings and
curls her antennae by pulling them while
standing on them with her fore-tarsi. The
attack of the Segestria, stimulated by my
shakes, is repeated ten times over; and the
Pompilus always escapes from the venomous
23

More Hunting Wasps

fangs unscathed, as though she were invulner-
able.

Is she really invulnerable? By no means,
as we shall soon have proved to us; if she
retires safe and sound, it is because the
Spider does not use her fangs. What we
see is a sort of truce, a tacit convention for-
bidding deadly strokes, or rather the de-
moralization due to captivity; and the two
adversaries are no longer in a sufficiently
warlike mood to make play with their dag-
gers. The tranquillity of the Pompilus, who
keeps on jauntily curling her antennae in face
of the Segestria, reassures me as to my pri-
soner's fate; for greater security, however, I
throw her a scrap of paper, in the folds of
which she will find a refuge during the night.
She instals herself there, out of the Spider's
reach. Next morning I find her dead.
During the night the Segestria, whose habits
are nocturnal, has recovered her daring and
stabbed her enemy. I had my suspicions
that the parts played might be reversed!
The butcher of yesterday is the victim of to-
day.

I replace the Pompilus by a Hive-bee.
The interview is not protracted. Two hours
later, the Bee is dead, bitten by the Spider.
A Drone-fly suffers the same fate. The Se-
at

The Pompili

gestrla, however, does not touch either of
the two corpses, any more than she touched
the corpse of the Pompilus. In these mur-
ders the captive seems to have no other ob-
ject than to rid herself of a turbulent neigh-
bour. When appetite awakes, perhaps the
victims will be turned to account. They
were not ; and the fault was mine. I placed
in the jar a Bumble-bee of average size. A
day later the Spider was dead; the rude
sharer of her captivity had done the deed.

Let us say no more of these unequal duels
in the glass prison and complete the story
of the Pompilus whom we left at the foot of
the wall with the paralysed Segestria. She
abandons her prey on the ground and returns
to the wall. She visits the Spider's funnels
one by one, walking on them as freely as on
the stones; she inspects the silken tubes,
dipping her antennae into them, sounding
and exploring them; she enters without the
least hesitation. Whence does she now de-
rive the temerity thus to enter the Segestria's
haunts? But a little while ago, she was dis-
playing extreme caution ; at this moment, she
seems heedless of danger. The fact is that
there is no danger really. The Wasp is
inspecting uninhabited jiouses. When she
dives down a silken tunnel, she very well
25

More Hunting Wasps

knows that there is no one in, for, had the
Segestria been there, she would by this time
have appeared on the threshold. The fact
that the householder does not show herself
at the first vibration of the neighbouring
threads is a certain proof that the tube is
vacant; and the Pompilus enters in full se-
curity. I would recommend future observers
not to take the present investigations for
hunting-tactics. I have already remarked
and I repeat : the Pompilus never enters the
silken ambush while the Spider is there.

Among the funnels inspected one appears
to suit her better than the others ; she returns
to it frequently in the course of her investi-
gations, which last for nearly an hour.
From time to time she hastens back to the
Spider lying on the ground; she examines
her, tugs at her, drags her a little closer to
the wall, then leaves her the better to recon-
noitre the tunnel which is the object of her
preference. Lastly she returns to the Se-
gestria and takes her by the tip of the ab-
domen. The quarry is so heavy that she
has great difficulty in moving it along the
level ground. Two inches divide it from
the wall. She gets to the wall, not without
effort; nevertheless, once the wall is reached,
the job is quickly done. We learn that
26

The Pompili

Antaeus, the son of Mother Earth, in his
struggle with Hercules, received new
strength as often as his feet touched the
ground; the Pompilus, the daughter of the
wall, seems to increase her powers tenfold
once she has set foot on the masonry.

For here is the Wasp hoisting her prey
backwards, her enormous prey, which dangles
beneath her. She climbs now a vertical
plane, now a slope, according to the uneven
surface of the stones. She crosses gaps
where she has to go belly uppermost, while
the quarry swings to and fro in the air. No-
thing stops her; she keeps on climbing, to a
height of six feet or more, without selecting
her path, without seeing her goal, since she
goes backwards. A lodge appears no doubt
reconnoitred beforehand and reached, de-
spite the difficulties of an ascent which did
not allow her to see it. The Pompilus
lays her prey on it. The silken tube which
she inspected so lovingly is only some eight
inches distant. She goes to it, examines it
rapidly and returns to the Spider, whom she
at length lowers down the tube.

Shortly afterwards I see her come out

again. She searches here and there on the

wall for a few scraps of mortar, two or

three fairly large pieces, which she carries

27

More Hunting Wasps

to the tube, to close it up. The task is done.
She flies away.

Next day I inspect this strange burrow.
The Spider is at the bottom of the silken
tube, isolated on every side, as though in a
hammock. The Wasp's egg is glued not to
the ventral surface of the victim but to the
back, about the middle, near the beginning
of the abdomen. It is white, cylindrical and
about a twelfth of an inch long. The few
bits of mortar which I saw carried have
but very roughly blocked the silken chamber
at the end. Thus Pompilus apicalis lays her
quarry and her eggs not in a burrow of her
own making, but in the Spider's actual house.
Perhaps the silken tube belongs to this very
victim, which in that event provides both
board and lodging. What a shelter for the
larva of this Pompilus : the warm retreat and
downy hammock of the Segestria !

Here then, already, we have two Spider-
huntresses, the Ringed Pompilus and P.
apicalis, who, unversed in the miner's craft,
establish their offspring inexpensively in ac-
cidental chinks in the walls, or even in the
lair of the Spider on whom the larva feeds.
In these cells, acquired without exertion, they
build only an attempt at a wall with a few
fragments of mortar. But we must beware
28

The Pompili

of generalizing about this expeditious me-
thod of estabHshment. Other PompiH are
true diggers, vahantly sinking a burrow in
the soil, to a depth of a couple of inches.
These include the Eight-spotted Pompilus
{P. octopunctatus, PANZ.), with her black-
and-yellow livery and her amber wings, a
little darker at the tips. For her game she
chooses the Epeirae {E. fasciata, E. seri-
cea) ,^ those fat Spiders, magnificently
adorned, who lie in wait at the centre of
their large, vertical webs. I am not suffi-
ciently acquainted with her habits to describe
them; above all, I know nothing of her hunt-
ing-tactics. But her dwelling is familiar to
me : it is a burrow, which I have seen her
begin, complete and close according to the
customary method of the Digger-wasps.

1 For the Garden-spiders known as the Banded Epeira
and the Silky Epeira cf. The Life of the Spider: chaps,
xi., xiii., xiv. et passim. — Translator's Note.

ap

CHAPTER II

THE SCOLI^

WERE strength to take precedence over
the other zoological attributes, the
Scollae would hold a predominant place
in the front rank of the Wasps. Some
of them may be compared in size with the
little bird from the north, the Golden-crested
Wren, who comes to us at the time of the
first autumn mists and visits the rotten buds.
The largest and most imposing of our sting-
bearers, the Carpenter-bee, the Bumble-bee,
the Hornet, cut a poor figure beside certain
of the Scoliae. Of this group of giants my
district possesses the Garden Scolia (S. hor-
torum, VAN DER LIND) , who is over an
Inch and a half in length and measures four
inches from tip to tip of her outspread wings,
and the Hemorrhoidal Scolia (<S. hamor-
rhoidalis, VAN DER LIND), who rivals
the Garden Scolia in point of size and is di-
stinguished more particularly by the bundle
of red hairs bristling at the tip of the ab-
domen.

<3o

The Scoliae

A black livery, with broad yellow patches ;
leathery wings, amber-coloured, like the skin
of an onion, and watered with purple reflec-
tions ; thick, knotted legs, covered with sharp
hairs; a massive frame; a powerful head,
encased in a hard cranium; a stiff, clumsy
gait; a low, short, silent flight: this gives
you a concise description of the female, who
is strongly equipped for her arduous task.
The male, being a mere philanderer, sports
a more elegant pair of horns, is more dain-
tily clad and has a more graceful figure,
without altogether losing the quality of ro-
bustness which is his consort's leading char-
acteristic.

It is not without a certain alarm that the
insect-collector finds himself for the first time
confronted by the Garden Scolia. How is
he to capture the imposing creature, how to
avoid its sting? If its effect is in proportion
to the Wasp's size, the sting of the Scolia
must be something terrible. The Hornet,
though she unsheath her weapon but once,
causes the most exquisite pain. What would
it be like if one were stabbed by this co-
lossus? The prospect of a swelling as big
as a man's fist and as painful as the touch
of a red-hot iron passes through our mind
at the moment when we are bringing down
31

More Hunting Wasps

the net. And we refrain, we beat a retreat,
we are greatly relieved not to have aroused
the dangerous creature's attention.

Yes, I confess to having run away from my
first Scoliae, anxious though I was to enrich
my budding collection with this magnificent
insect. There were painful recollections of
the Common Wasp and the Hornet con-
nected with this excess of prudence. I say
excess, for to-day, instructed by long experi-
ence, I have quite recovered from my former
fears; and, when I see a Scolia resting on a
thistle-head, I do not scruple to take her in
my fingers, without any precaution what-
ever, however large she may be and how-
ever menacing her aspect. My courage is
not all that it seems to be; I am quite ready
to tell the Wasp-hunting novice this. The
Scoliae are notably peaceable. Their sting
is an implement of labour far more than
a weapon of war; they use it to paralyse
the prey destined for their offspring; and
only in the last extremity do they employ
it in self-defence. Moreover, the lack of
agility in their movements nearly always en-
ables us to avoid their sting; and, even if
we be stung, the pain is almost insignificant.
This absence of any acute smarting as a re-
sult of the poison is almost constant in the
32

The Scoliae

Hunting Wasps, whose weapon is a surgical
lancet and devised for the most delicate
physiological operations.

Among the other Scoliae of my district I
will mention the Two-banded Scolia {S.
hifasciata, VAN DER LIND), whom I see
every year, in September, working at the
heaps of leaf-mould which are placed for her
benefit in a corner of my paddock; and the
Interrupted Scolia {S. interrupta, LATR.),
the inhabitant of the sandy soil at the foot
of the neighbouring hills. Much smaller
than the two preceding insects, but also much
commoner, a necessary condition of continu-
ous observation, they will provide me with
the principal data for this study of the
Scoliae.

I open my old note book; and I see my-
self once more, on the 6th of August, 1857,
in the Bois des Issards, that famous copse
near Avignon which I have celebrated in my
essay on the Bembex-wasps.^ Once again,
my head crammed with entomological pro-
jects, I am at the beginning of my hoHdays
which, for two months, will allow me to in-
dulge in the insect's company.

A fig for Mariotte's ^ flask and Tori-

1 Cf. The Hunting Wasps: chap. xiv. — Translator's Note.

2 Edme Mariotte (1620-1684), a French chemist who

32

More Hunting Wasps

celll's * tube 1 This is the thrice-blest per-
iod when I cease to be a schoolmaster and be-
come a schoolboy, the schoolboy in love with
animals. Like a madder-cutter off for his
day's work, I set out carrying over my
shoulder a solid digging-implement, the local
luchet, and on my back my game-bag with
boxes, bottles, trowel, glass tubes, tweezers,
lenses and other impedimenta. A large um-
brella saves me from sunstroke. It is the
most scorching hour of the hottest day in the
year. Exhausted by the heat, the Cicadae
are silent. The bronze-eyed Gad-flies seek
a refuge from the pitiless sun under the roof
of my silken shelter; other large Flies, the
sobre-hued Pangoniae, dash themselves reck-
lessly against my face.

The spot at which I have installed myself
is a sandy clearing which I had recognized
the year before as a site beloved of the

discovered, independently of Robert Boyle the Irishman
(1627-1691), the law generally known as Boyle's law,
which states that the product of the volume and the tem-
perature of a gas is constant at constant temperature.
His flask is an apparatus contrived to illustrate atmos-
pheric pressure and ensure a constant flow of liquid.
Translator's Note.

1 Evangelista Toricelli (1608-1647), a disciple of Gali-
leo and professor of philosophy and mathematics at
Florence. His "tube" is our mercury barometer. He
was the first to obtain a vacuum by means of mercury;
and he also improved the microscope and the telescope. —
Trr.nslator's Note.

34

The Scoliae

Scolias. Here and there are scattered
thickets of holm-oak, whose dense under-
growth shelters a bed of dead leaves and a
thin layer of mould. My memory has
served me well. Here, sure enough, as the
heat grows a little less, appear, coming I
know not from whence, some Two-banded
Scoliae. The number increases; and it is not
long before I see very nearly a dozen of
them about me, close enough for observation.
By their smaller size and more buoyant
flight, they are easily known for males
Almost grazing the ground, they fly softly,
going to and fro, passing and repassing in
every direction. From time to time one of
them alights on the ground, feels the sand
with his antennae and seems to be enquiring
into what is happening in the depths of the
soil; then he resumes his flight, alternately
coming and going.

What are they waiting for? What are
they seeking in these evolutions of theirs,
which are repeated a hundred times over?
Food? No, for close beside them stand
several eryngo-stems, whose sturdy clusters
are the Wasps' usual resource at this season
of parched vegetation; and not one of them
settles upon the flowers, not one of them
seems to care about their sugary exudations.
35

More Hunting Wasps

Their attention is engrossed elsewhere. It
is the ground, it is the stretch of sand which
they are so assiduously exploring; what they
are waiting for is the arrival of some female,
who, bursting the cocoon, may appear from
one moment to the next, issuing all dusty
from the ground. She will not be given time
to brush herself or to wash her eyes: three
or four or more of them will be there at
once, eager to dispute her possession. I am
too familiar with the amorous contests of
the Hymenopteron clan to allow myself to
be mistaken. It is the rule for the males,
who are the earlier of the two, to keep a
close guard around the natal spot and watch
for the emergence of the females, whom
they pester with their pursuit the moment
they reach the light of day. This is the
motive of the interminable ballet of my
Scoliee. Let us have patience: perhaps we
shall witness the nuptials.

The hours go by; the Pangonise and the
Gad-flies desert my umbrella; the Scoliae
grow weary and gradually disappear. It is
finished. I shall see nothing more to-day.
I repeat my laborious expedition to the Bois
des Issards over and over again; and each
time I see the males as assiduous as ever in
skimming over the ground. My persever-
36

The Scoliae

ance deserved to succeed. It did, though
the success was very incomplete. Let me
describe it, such as it was; the future will
fill up the gaps.

A female issues from the soil before my
eyes. She flies away, followed by several
males. With the luchet I dig at the point
of emergence; and, as the excavation pro-
gresses, I sift between my fingers the rub-
bish of sand mixed with mould. In the
sweat of my brow, as I may justly say, I
must have removed nearly a cubic yard of
material, when at last I make a find. This
is a recently ruptured cocoon, to the side of
which adheres an empty skin, the last rem-
nant of the game on which the larva fed
that wrought the said cocoon. Considering
the good condition of its silken fabric, this
cocoon may have belonged to the Scolia who
has just quitted her underground dwelling
before my eyes. As for the skin accom-
panying it, this has been so much spoilt by
the moisture of the soil and by the grassy
roots that I cannot determine its origin ex-
actly. The cranium, however, which is bet-
ter-preserved, the mandibles and certain de-
tails of the general configuration lead me to
suspect the larva of a Lamellicorn.

It is getting late. This is enough for to-
37

More Hunting Wasps

day. I am worn out, but amply repaid for
my exertions by a broken cocoon and the
puzzling skin of a wretched grub. Young
people who make a hobby of natural history,
would you like to discover whether the sa-
cred fire flows in your veins? Imagine your-
selves returning from such an expedition.
You are carrying on your shoulder the pea-
sant's heavy spade; your loins are stiff with
the laborious digging which you have just
finished in a crouching position; the heat of
an August afternoon has set your brain sim-
mering; your eyelids are tired by the itch
of an inflammation resulting from the over-
powering light in which you have been work-
ing; you have a devouring thirst; and before
you lies the dusty prospect of the miles that
divide you from your well-earned rest. Yet
something stings within you; forgetful of
your present woes you are absolutely glad of
your excursion. Why? Because you have
in your possession a shred of rotten skin.
If this is so, my young friends, you may go
ahead, for you will do something, though I
warn you that this does not mean, by a long
way, that you will get on in the world.

I examined this shred of skin with all the
care that it deserved. My first suspicions
were confirmed: a Lamellicorn, a Scarabaeid
38

The Scoliae

in the larval state, is the first food of the
Wasp whose cocoon I have just unearthed.
But which of the Scarabaeidae ? And does
this cocoon, my precious booty, really belong
to the Scolia? The problem is beginning to
take shape. To attempt its solution we must
go back to the Bois des Issards.

I did go back and so often that my pa-
tience ended by being exhausted before the
problem of the ScoHae had received a satis-
factory solution. The difficulties are great
indeed, under the conditions. Where am I
to dig in the indefinite stretch of sandy soil
to light upon a spot frequented by the
Scoliae? The luchet is driven into the
ground at random; and almost invariably I
find none of what I am seeking. To be sure,
the males, flying level with the ground, give
me a hint, at the outset, with their certainty
of instinct, as to the spots where the females
ought to be; but their hints are very vague,
because they go so far in every direction.
If I wished to examine the soil which a single
male explores in his flight, with its constantly
changing course, I should have to turn over,
to the depth of perhaps a yard, at least four
poles of earth. This is too much for my
strength and the time at my disposal. Then,
as the season advances, the males disappear,
39

More Hunting Wasps

whereupon I am suddenly deprived of their
hints. To know more or less where I should
thrust my luchet, I have only one resource
left, which is to watch for the females emer-
ging from the ground or else entering it.
With a great expenditure of time and pa-
tience I have at last had this windfall, very
rarely, I admit.

The Scoliae do not dig a burrow which can
be compared with that of the other Hunting
Wasps; they have no fixed residence, with
an unimpeded gallery opening on the outer
world and giving access to the cells, the
abodes of the larvae. They have no en-
trance- and exit-doors, no corridor built in
advance. If they have to make their
way underground, any point not hitherto
turned over serves their purpose, provided
that it be not too hard for their digging-
tools, which, for that matter, are very power-
ful; if they have to come out, the point of
exit is no less indifferent. The Scolia does
not bore the soil through which she passes:
she excavates and ploughs it with her legs
and forehead; and the stuff shifted remains
where it lies, behind her, forthwith blocking
the passage which she has followed. When
she is about to emerge into the outer world,
her advent is heralded by the fresh soil
40

The Scoliae

which heaps itself into a mound as though
heaved up by the snout of some tiny Mole.
The insect sallies forth; and the mound col-
lapses, completely filling up the exit-hole.
If the Wasp is entering the ground, the dig-
ging-operations, undertaken at an arbitrary
point, quickly yield a cavity in which the
Scolia disappears, separated from the sur-
face by the whole track of shifted material.

I can easily trace her passage through the
thickness of the soil by certain long, winding
cylinders, formed of loose materials in the
midst of compact and stable earth. These
cyhnders are numerous; they sometimes run
to a depth of twenty inches; they extend in
all directions, fairly often crossing one an-
other. Not one of them ever exhibits so
much as a suspicion of an open gallery.
They are obviously not permanent ways of
communication with the outer world, but
hunting-trails which the insect has followed
once, without going back to them. What
was the Wasp seeking when she riddled the
soil with these tunnels which are now full
of running sands? No doubt the food for
her family, the larva of which I possess the
empty skin, now an unrecognizable shred.

I begin to see a little Hght : the Scoliae are
underground workers. I already expected
41

More Hunting Wasps

as much, having before now captured Scoliae
soiled with Httle earthy encrustations on the
joints of the legs. The Wasp, who is so
careful to ke«p clean, taking advantage of
the least leisure to brush and polish herself,
could never display such blemishes unless she
were a devoted earth-worker. I used to
suspect their trade; now I know it. They
live underground, where they burrow in
search of LameUicorn-grubs, just as the
Mole burrows in search of the White
Worm.^ It is even possible that, after re-
ceiving the embraces of the males, they but
very rarely return to the surface, absorbed
as they are by their maternal duties; and
this, no doubt, is why my patience becomes
exhausted in watching for their entrance and
their emergence.

It is in the subsoil that they establish
themselves and travel to and fro; with the
help of their powerful mandibles, their hard
cranium, their strong, prickly legs, they easily
make themselves paths in the loose earth.
They are living ploughshares. By the end
of August, therefore, the female population
is for the most part underground, busily

1 The larva of the Cockchafer. This grub takes three
years or more to arrive at maturity underground. —
Translator's Note.

42

The Scoliae

occupied in egg-laying and provisioning.
Everything seems to tell me that I should
watch in vain for the appearance of a few
females in the broad daylight; I must resign
myself to excavating at random.

The result was hardly commensurate with
the labour which I expended on digging. I
found a few cocoons, nearly all broken, like
the one which I already possessed, and, like
it, bearing on their side the tattered skin of
a larva of the same Scarabaeid. Two of
these cocoons which are still intact contained
a dead adult Wasp. This was actually the
Two-banded Scolia, a precious discovery
which changed my suspicions into a certainty.

I also unearthed some cocoons, slightly
different in appearance, containing an adult
inmate, likewise dead, in whom I recognized
the Interrupted Scolia. The remnants of
the provisions again consisted of the empty
skin of a larva, also a Lamellicorn, but not
the same as the one hunted by the first
Scolia. And this was all. Now here, now
there, I shifted a few cubic yards of soil,
without managing to find fresh provisions
with the egg or the young larva. And yet
it was the right season, the egg-laying season,
for the males, numerous at the outset, had
grown rarer day by day until they disap-

43

More Hunting Wasps

peared entirely. My lack of success was
due to the uncertainty of my excavations, in
which I had nothing to guide me over the
indefinite area covered.

If I could at least identify the Scarabaeidae
whose larvae form the prey of the two Scoliae,
the problem would be half solved. Let us
try. I collect all that the luchet has turned
up: larvae, nymphs and adult Beetles. My
booty comprises two species of Lamellicorns :
Anoxia villosa and Euchlora Julii, both of
whom I find in the perfect state, usually
dead, but sometimes alive. I obtain a few
of their nymphs, a great piece of luck, for
the larval skin which accompanies them will
serve me as a standard of comparison. I
come upon plenty of larvae, of all ages.
When I compare them with the cast garment
abandoned by the nymphs, I recognize some
as belonging to the Anoxia and the rest to the
Euchlora.

With these data, I perceive with absolute
certainty that the empty skin adhering to the
cocoon of the Interrupted Scolia belongs to
the Anoxia. As for the Euchlora, she is not
involved in the problem : the larva hunted by
the Two-banded Scolia does not belong to
her any more than it belongs to the Anoxia.
Then with which Scarabaeid does the empty

44

The Scoliae

skin which is still unknown to me corre-
spond? The Lamellicorn whom I am seek-
ing must exist in the ground which I have
been exploring, because the Two-banded
Scolia has established herself there. Later
— oh, very long afterwards! — I recog-
nized where my search was at fault. In
order not to find a network of roots beneath
my luchet and to render the work of excava-
tion lighter, I was digging the bare places, at
some distance from the thickets of holm-oak;
and it was just in those thickets, which are
rich in vegetable mould, that I should have
sought. There, near the old stumps, in the
soil consisting of dead leaves and rotting
wood, I should certainly have come upon
the larva so greatly desired, as will be proved
by what I have still to say.

Here ends what my earher investigations
taught me. There is reason to believe that
the Bois des Issards would never have fur-
nished me with the precise data, in the form
in which I wanted them. The remoteness
of the spot, the fatigue of the expeditions,
which the heat rendered intensely exhausting,
the impossibility of knowing which points to
attack would undoubtedly have discouraged
me before the problem had advanced a step
farther. Studies such as these call for home
45

More Hunting Wasps

leisure and application, for residence in a
country village. You are then familiar with
every spot in your own grounds and the sur-
rounding country and you can go to work
with certainty.

Twenty-three years have passed; and here
I am at Serignan, where I have become a
peasant, working by turns on my writing-pad
and my cabbage-patch. On the 14th of Au-
gust, 1880, Favier ^ clears away a heap of
mould consisting of vegetable refuse and of
leaves stacked in a corner against the wall
of the paddock. This clearance is consi-
dered necessary because Bull, when the lov-
ers' moon arrives, uses this hillock to climb
to the top of the wall and thence to repair to
the canine wedding the news of which is
brought to him by the effluvia borne upon
the air. His pilgrimage fulfilled, he returns,
with a discomfited look and a slit ear, but
always ready, once he has had his feed, to
repeat the escapade. To put an end to this
licentious behaviour, which has cost him so
many gaping wounds, we decided to remove
the heap of soil which serves him as a ladder
of escape.

1 An ex-soldier who acted as the author's gardener and
factotum. — Translator's Note.
46

The Scoliae

Favier calls me while in the midst of his
labours with the spade and barrow :

" Here's a find, sir, a great find ! Come
and look."

I hasten to the spot. The find is a mag-
nificent one indeed and of a nature to fill me
with delight, awakening all my old recollec-
tions of the Bois des Issards. Any number
of females of the Two-banded Scolia, dis-
turbed at their work, are emerging here and
there from the depth of the soil. The co-
coons also are plentiful, each lying next to
the skin of the victim on which the larva has
fed. They are all open but still fresh : they
date from the present generation ; the Scolias
whom I unearth have quitted them not long
since. I learnt later, in fact, that the hatch-
ing took place in the course of July.

In the same heap of mould is a swarming
colony of Scarabaeidae in the form of larvae,
nymphs and adult insects. It includes the
largest of our Beetles, the common Rhino-
ceros Beetle, or Oryctes nasicornis. I find
some who have been recently liberated,
whose wing-cases, of a glossy brown, now
see the sunlight for the first time; I find
others enclosed in their earthen shell, al-
most as big as a Turkey's egg. More fre-
47

More Hunting Wasps

quent is her powerful larva, with its heavy
paunch, bent into a hook. I note the pre-
sence of a second bearer of the nasal horn,
Oryctes Silenus, who is much smaller than
her kinswoman, and of Pentodon punctatus,
a Scarabaeid who ravages my lettuces.

But the predominant population consists of
Cetonise, or Rosechafers, most of them en-
closed in their egg-shaped shells, with earth-
en walls encrusted with dung. There are
three different species: C. aurata, C. morio
and C. floricola. Most of them belong
to the first species. Their larvae, which are
easily recognized by their singular talent for
walking on their backs with their legs in the
air, are numbered by the hundred. Every
age is represented, from the new-born grub
to the podgy larva on the point of building
its shell.

This time the problem of the victuals is
solved. When I compare the larval slough
sticking to the Scolia's cocoons with the
Cetonia-larvae or, better, with the skin cast
by these larvae, under cover of the cocoon,
at the moment of the nymphal transforma-
tion, I establish an absolute identity. The
Two-banded Scolia rations each of her eggs
with a Cetonia-grub. Behold the riddle
which my irksome searches in the Bois des
48

The Scoliae

Issards had not enabled me to solve. To-
day, at my threshold, the difficult problem
becomes child's play. I can investigate the
question easily to the fullest possible extent;
I need not put myself out at all; at any hour
of the day, at any period that seems fa-
vourable, I have the requisite elements be-
fore my eyes. Ah, dear village, so poor, so
countrified, how happily inspired was I when
I came to ask of you a hermit's retreat,
where I could live in the company of my be-
loved insects and, in so doing, set down not
too unworthily a few chapters of their won-
derful history!

According to the Italian observer Passer-
ini, the Garden Scolia feeds her family on
the larvae of Oryctes nasicornis, in the heaps
of old tan-waste removed from the hot-
houses. I do not despair of seeing this
colossal Wasp coming to establish herself
one day in my heaps of leaf-mould, in which
the same Scarabaeid is swarming. Her
rarity in my part of the country is probably
the only cause that has hitherto prevented
the realization of my wishes.

I have just shown that the Two-banded
Scolia feeds in infancy on Cetonia-larvas and
particularly on those of C. aurata, C. morio
and C. floricola. These three species dwell

49

More Hunting Wasps

together In the rubbish-heap just explored;
their larvae differ so little that I should have
to examine them minutely to distinguish the
one from the other; and even then I should
not be certain of succeeding. It seems pro-
bable that the Scolia does not choose be-
tween them, that she uses all three indis-
criminately. Perhaps she even assails other
larvas, inhabitants, like the foregoing, of
heaps of rotting vegetable-matter. I there-
fore set down the Cetonia genus generally
as forming the prey of the Twp-banded
Scolia.

Lastly, round about Avignon, the Inter-
rupted Scolia used to prey upon the larva of
the Shaggy Anoxia {A. villosa) . At Serig-
nan, which is surrounded by the same kind
of sandy soil, without other vegetation than
a few sparse seed-bearing grasses, I find her
rationing her young with the Morning An-
oxia {A. matutinalis) . Oryctes, Cetonlae
and Anoxlse In the larval state : here then is
the prey of the three Scollae whose habits we
know. The three Beetles are Lamelllcorns,
Scarabaeldee. We shall have occasion later
to consider the reason of this very striking
coincidence.

For the moment, the business In hand Is
to move the heap of leaf-mould to some
so

The Scoliae

other place, with the wheelbarrow. This is
Favier's work, while I myself collect the dis-
turbed population in glass jars, in order to
put them back into the new rubbish-heap
with all the consideration which my plans
owe to them. The laying-time has not yet
set in, for I find no eggs, no young ScoHa-
larvae. September apparently will be the
propitious month. But there are bound to
be many injured in the course of this up-
heaval; some of the Scoliae have flown away
who will perhaps have a certain difficulty in
finding the new site; I have disarranged
everything in the overturned heap. To al-
low tranquility to be restored and habit to
resume its rounds, to give the population
time to increase and replace the fugitives and
the injured, it would be best, I think, to
leave the heap alone this year and not to
resume my investigations until the next.
After the thorough confusion due to the
removal, I should jeopardize success by being
too precipitate. Let us wait one year more.
I decide accordingly, curb my impatience and
resign myself. We will simply confine our-
selves to enlarging the heap, when the leaves
begin to fall, by accumulating the refuse that
strews the paddock, so that we may have a
richer field of operations.
51

More Hunting Wasps

In the following August, my visits to the
mound of leaf-mould become a daily habit.
By two o'clock in the afternoon, when the
sun has cleared the adjacent pine-trees and
is shining on the heap, numbers of male
ScoHae arrive from the neighbouring fields,
where they have been slaking their thirst on
the eryngo-heads. Incessantly coming and
going with an indolent flight, they circle
round the heap. If some female rise from
the soil, those who have seen her dart for-
ward. A not very turbulent affray decides
which of the suitors shall be the possessor;
and the couple fly away over the wall. This
is a repetition of what I used to see in the
Bois des Issards. By the time that August
is over, the males have ceased to show them-
selves. The mothers do not appear either:
they are busy underground, establishing their
families.

On the 2nd of September, I decide upon
a search with my son Emile, who handles
the fork and the shovel, while I examine the
clods dug up. Victory! A magnificent re-
sult, finer than any that my fondest ambition
would have dared to contemplate ! Here is
a vast array of Cetonia-larvae, all flaccid, mo-
tionless, lying on their backs, with a Scolia's
egg sticking to the centre of their abdomen;

52

The Scolias

here are young Scolia-larvae dipping their
heads into the entrails of their victims; here
are others farther advanced, munching their
last mouthfuls of a prey which is drained
dry and reduced to a skin; here are some
laying the foundation of their cocoons with
a reddish silk, which looks as if it had been
dyed in Bullock's blood; here are some whose
cocoons are finished. There is plenty of
everything, from the egg to the larva whose
period of activity is over. I mark the 2nd
of September as a red-letter day; it has given
me the final key to a riddle which has kept
me in suspense for nearly half a century.

I place my spoils rehgiously in shallow,
wide-mouthed glass jars containing a layer
of finely sifted mould. In this soft bed,
which is identical in character with the natal
surroundings, I make some faint impressions
with my fingers, so many cavities, each of
which receives one of my subjects, one only.
A pane of glass covers the mouth of the
receptacle. In this way I prevent a too
rapid evaporation and keep my nurslings
under my eyes without fear of disturbing
them. Ndw that all this is in order, let us
proceed to record events.

The Cetonia-larvae which I find with a Sco-
lia's egg upon their ventral surface are dis-
ss

More Hunting Wasps

tributed in the mould at random, without
special cavities, without any sign of some
sort of structure. They are smothered in
the mould, just as are the larvae which have
not been injured by the Wasp. As my ex-
cavations in the Bois des Issards told me,
the Scolia does not prepare a lodging for her
family; she knows nothing of the art of cell-
building. Her offspring occupies a fortui-
tous abode, on which the mother expends no
architectural pains. Whereas the other
Hunting Wasps prepare a dwelling to which
the provisions are carried, sometimes from
a distance, the Scolia confines herself to dig-
ging her bed of leaf-mould until she comes
upon a Cetonia-larva. When she finds a
quarry, she stabs it on the spot, in order to
immobilize it; and, again on the spot, she
lays an egg on the ventral surface of the
paralysed creature. That is all. The
mother goes in quest of another prey with-
out troubling further about the egg which
has just been laid. There is no effort of
carting or building. At the very spot where
the Cetonla-grub is caught and paralysed,
the Scolia-larva hatches, grows and weaves
its cocoon. The esitablishment of the fami-
ly is thus reduced to the simplest possible
expression.

S4

CHAPTER III

A DANGEROUS DIET

THE Scolia's egg is in no way excep-
tional in shape. It is white, cylindri-
cal, straight and about four millimetres long
by one millimetre thick.^ It is fixed, by its
fore-end, upon the median line of the vic-
tim's abdomen, well to the rear of the legs,
near the beginning of the brown patch
formed by the mass of food under the skin.
I watch the hatching. The grub, still
wearing upon its hinder parts the delicate
pellicle which it has just shed, is fixed to the
spot to which the egg itself adhered by its
cephalic extremity. A striking spectacle,
that of the feeble creature, only this moment
hatched, boring, for its first mouthful, into
the paunch of its enormous prey, which lies
stretched upon its back. The nascent tooth
takes a day over the difficult task. Next
morning the skin has yielded; and I find the
new-born larva with its head plunged into a
small, round, bleeding wound.

1 About .156 X .039 inch. — Translator's Note.

55

More Hunting Wasps

In size the grub is the same as the egg,
whose dimensions I have just given. Now
the Cetonia-larva, to meet the Scolla's re-
quirements, averages thirty millimetres in
length by nine in thickness,^ whence follows
that its bulk is six or seven hundred times
as great as that of the newly-hatched grub
of the Scolia. Here certainly is a quarry
which, were it active and capable of wrig-
gling and biting, would expose the nurseling
to terrible risks. The danger has been
averted by the mother's stiletto; and the fra-
gile grub attacks the monster's paunch with
as little hesitation as though it were sucking
the breast.

Day by day the young Scolia's head pene-
trates farther into the Cetonia's belly. To
pass through the narrow orifice made in the
skin, the fore-part of the body contracts and
lengthens out, as though drawn through a
die-plate. The larva thus assumes a rather
strange form. Its hinder half, which is con-
stantly outside the victim's belly, has the
shape and fullness usual in the larvae of the
Digger-wasps, whereas the front half, which,
once it has dived under the skin of the ex-
ploited victim, does not come out again un-
til the time arrives for spinning the cocoon,

1 1.17 X. 3 5 inch. — Translator's Note.
56

A Dangerous Diet

tapers off suddenly into a snake-like neck.
This front part is moulded, so to speak, by
the narrow entrance-hole made in the skin
and henceforth retains its slender formation.
As a matter of fact, a similar configuration
recurs, in varying degrees, in the larvae of
the Digger-wasps whose ration consists of
a bulky quarry which takes a long time to
consume. These include the Languedocian
Sphex, with her Ephippiger, and the Hairy
Ammophila, with her Grey Worm. There
is none of this sudden constriction, dividing
the creature into two disparate halves, when
the victuals consist of numerous and com-
paratively small items. The larva then re-
tains its usual shape, being obliged to pass,
at brief intervals, from one joint in its larder
to the next.

From the first bite of the mandibles, un-
til the whole head of game is consumed, the
Scolia-larva Is never seen to withdraw Its
head and Its long neck from inside the crea-
ture which It Is devouring. I suspect the
reason of this persistence in attacking a single
point; I even seem to perceive the need for
a special art in the manner of eating. The
Cetonia-larva is a square meal in itself, one
large dish, which has to retain a suitable
freshness until the end. The young Scolia,
57

More Hunting Wasps

therefore, must attack with discretion, at the
unvarying point chosen by the mother on the
ventral surface, for the entrance-hole is at
the exact point where the egg was fixed.
As the nursling's neck lengthens and dives
deeper, the victim's entrails are nibbled
gradually and methodically: first, the least
essential; next, those whose removal leaves
yet a remnant of life; lastly, those whose
loss Inevitably entails death, followed very
soon by putrefaction.

At the first bites we see the victim's blood
oozing through the wound. It Is a highly-
elaborated fluid, easy of digestion, and forms
a sort of milk-diet for the new-born grub.
The little ogre's teat is the bleeding paunch
of the Cetonla-larva. The latter will not
die of the wound, at least not for some time.
The next thing to be tackled Is the fatty
substance which wraps the internal organs
In its delicate folds. This again Is a loss
which the Cetonia can suffer without dying
then and there. Now comes the turn of
the muscular layer which lines the skin; now,
that of the essential organs; now, that of
the nerve-centres and the trachean network,
whereupon the last gleam of light is extin-
guished and the Cetonia reduced to a mere
bag, empty but Intact, save for the entrance-
58

A Dangerous Diet

hole made in the middle of the belly. From
now onwards, these remains may rot if they
will: the Scolia, by its methodical fashion of
consuming its victuals, has succeeded in keep-
ing them fresh to the very last ; and now you
may see it, replete, shining with health, with-
draw its long neck from the bag of skin and
prepare to weave the cocoon in which its
development will be completed.

It is possible that I may not be quite ac-
curate as to the precise order in which the
organs are consumed, for it is not easy to
perceive what happens inside the exploited
larva's body. The ruHng feature in this
scientific method of eating, which proceeds
from the parts less to the parts more neces-
sary to preserve a remnant of life, is none the
less obvious. If direct observation did not
already to some degree confirm it, a mere ex-
amination of the half-eaten larva would do
so in the most positive fashion.

The Cetonia-larva is at first a plump grub.
Drained by the Scolia's tooth, it gradually
becomes limp and wrinkled. In a few days'
time it resembles a shrivelled bit of bacon-
fat and then a bag whose two sides have
fallen in. Yet this bit of bacon and this
bag have the same characteristic look of
fresh meat as had the grub before it was
59

More Hunting Wasps

bitten into. Despite the persistent nibbling
of the Scolia, life continues, holding at bay
the inroads of putrefaction until the mandi-
bles have given their last bites. Does not
this remnant of tenacious vitality in itself
show that the organs of primary importance
are the last to be attacked? Does it not
prove that there Is a progressive dismem-
berment passing from the less essential to
the Indispensable?

Would you like, to see what becomes of a
Cetonia-larva when the organism is wounded
in its vital centres at the very beginning?
The experiment Is an easy one; and I made
a point of trying It. A sewing-needle, first
softened and flattened Into a blade, then re-
tempered and sharpened, gives me a most
delicate scalpel. With this Instrument I
make a fine incision, through which I remove
the mass of nerves whose remarkable struc-
ture we shall soon have occasion to study.
The thing is done: the wound, which does
not look serious, has left the creature a
corpse, a real corpse. I lay my victim on a
bed of moist earth. In a jar with a glass lid;
in fact, I establish It In the same conditions
as those of the larvae on which the Scoliae
feed. By the next day, without changing
shape, it has turned a repulsive brown; pre-
60

A Dangerous Diet

sently It dissolves into noisome putrescence.
On the same bed of earth, under the same
glass cover, in the same moist, warm atmos-
phere, the larvae three-quarters eaten by the
Scoliae retain, on the contrary, the appear-
ance of healthy flesh.

If a single stroke of my dagger, fashioned
from the point of a needle, results in im-
mediate death and early putrefaction; if the
repeated bites of the Scolia gut the crea-
ture's body and reduce it almost to a skin
without completely killing it, the striking con-
trast between these two results must be due
to the relative importance of the organs in-
jured. I destroy the nerve-centres and in-
evitably kill my larva, which is putrid by the
following day; the Scolia attacks the reserves
of fat, the blood, the muscles and does not
kill its victim, which will provide it with
wholesome food until the end. But it is
clear that, if the Scolia were to set to work
as I did, there would be nothing left, after
the first few bites, but an actual corpse, dis-
charging fluids which would be fatal to it
within twenty-four hours. The mother, it
is true, in order to assure the immobility of
her prey, has injected the poison of her sting
into the nerve-centres. Her operation can-
not be compared with mine in any respect.
6i

More Hunting Wasps

She practices the method of the skilful
physiologist who induces anaesthesia; I go
to work like the butcher who chops, cuts and
disembowels. The sting leaves the nerve-
centres intact. Deprived of sensibility by
the poison, they have lost the power of pro-
voking muscular contractions; but who can
say that, numbed as they are, they no longer
serve to maintain a faint vitality? The
flame Is extinguished, but thei'e Is still a glow-
ing speck upon the wick. I, a rough blun-
derer, do more than blow out the lamp : I
throw away the wick and all Is over. The
grub would do the same If It bit straight Into
the mass of nerves.

Everything confirms the fact: the Scolla
and the other Hunting Wasps whose provi-
sions consist of bulky heads of game are
gifted with a special art of eating, an ex-
quisitely delicate art wlilch saves a remnant
of life In the prey devoured, until It Is all
consumed. When the prey Is a small one,
this precaution Is superfluous. Consider,
for Instance, the Bembex-grubs In the midst
of their heap of Flies. The prey seized
upon Is broached on the back, the belly, the
head, the thorax. Indifferently. The larva
munches a given spot, which It leaves to
munch a second, parsing to a third and a
62

A Dangerous Diet

fourth, at the bidding of its changing whims.
It seems to taste and select, by repeated
trials, the mouthfuls most to its Hking.
Thus bitten at several points, covered with
wounds, the Fly is soon a shapeless mass
which would putrefy very quickly if the
meagre dish were not devoured at a single
meal. Allow the Scolia-grub the same un-
licensed gluttony: it would perish beside its
corpulent victim, which should have kept
fresh for a fortnight, but which almost from
the beginning would be no more than a filthy
putrescence.

This art of careful eating does not seem
easy to practise; at least, the larva, if ever
so little diverted from its usual courses. Is
no longer able to apply Its talent as a capable
trencherman. This will be proved by exper-
iment. I must begin by observing that,
when I spoke of my larva which turned
putrid within twenty-four hours, I adopted
an extreme case for the sake of greater
clearness. The Scolia, taking its first bite,
does not and cannot go to such lengths.
Nevertheless it behooves us to enquire
whether, in the consumption of the victuals,
the initial point of attack Is a matter of in-
difference and whether the rummaging
through the entrails of the victim entails a
63

More Hunting Wasps

determined order, without which success Is
uncertain or even Impossible. To these deli-
cate questions no one, I think, can reply.
Where science is silent, perhaps the grub
will speak. We will try.

I move from Its position a Scolia-grub
which has attained a quarter or a third of
its full growth. The long neck plunged into
the victim's belly Is rather difficult to extract,
because of the need of molesting the creature
as little as possible. I succeed, by means of
a little patience and repeated strokes with the
tip of a paint-brush. I now turn the Ce-
tonla-larva over, back uppermost, at the bot-
tom of the little hollow made by pressing
my finger In the layer of mould. Lastly, I
place the Scolla on its victim's back. Here
is my grub under the same conditions as just
now, with this difference, that the back and
not the belly of its victim is presented to its
mandibles.

I watch it for a whole afternoon. It
writhes about; it moves its little head now in
this direction, now in that, frequently lay-
ing It on the Cetonia, but without fixing it
anywhere. The day draws to a close; and
still It has accomplished nothing. There are
restless movements, nothing more. Hun-
ger, I tell myself, will eventually Induce it to
64

A Dangerous Diet

bite. I am wrong. Next morning I find
it more anxious than the day before and still
groping about, without resolving to fix its
mandibles anywhere. I leave it alone for
half a day longer without obtaining any re-
sult. Yet twenty-four hours of abstinence
must have awakened a good appetite, above
all in a creature which, if left undisturbed,
would not have ceased eating.

Excessive hunger cannot induce it to nib-
ble at an unlawful spot. Is this due to
feebleness of the teeth? By no means: the
Cetonia's skin is no tougher on the back
than on the belly; moreover, the grub is
capable of perforating the skin when it
leaves the egg; a fortiori^ it must be more
capable of doing so now that it has attained
a sturdy growth. Thus we see no lack of
ability, but an obstinate refusal to nibble at
a point which ought to be respected. Who
knows? On this side perhaps the grub's
dorsal vessel would be wounded, its heart,
an organ indispensable to life. The fact re-
mains that my attempts to make the grub
tackle its victim from the back have failed.
Does this mean that it entertains the least
suspicion of the danger which it might incur
were it to produce putrefaction by awkwardly
carving its victuals from the back? It
6s

More Hunting Wasps

would be absurd to give such an idea a mo-
ment's consideration. Its refusal is dictated
by a preordained decree which it is bound
to obey.

My Scolia-grubs would die of starvation if
I left them on their victim's back. I there-
fore restore matters as they were, with the
Cetonia-larva belly uppermost and the young
Scolia on top. I might utilize the subjects
of my previous experiments; but, as I have
to take precautions against the disturbance
which may have been caused by the test al-
ready undergone, I prefer to operate on
new patients, a luxury in which the richness
of my menagerie allows me to indulge. I
move the Scolia from its position, extract
its head from the entrails of the Cetonia-
larva and leave it to its own resources on its
victim's belly. Betraying every symptom of
uneasiness, the grub gropes, hesitates, casts
about and does not insert its mandibles any-
where, though it is now the ventral surface
which it is exploring. It would not display
greater hesitation if placed on the back of
the larva. I repeat, who knows? On this
side it might perhaps injure the nervous
plexus, which is even more essential than the
dorsal vessel. The inexperienced grub must
not drive in its mandibles at random; its fu-
66

A Dangerous Diet

ture is jeopardized if it gives a single ill-
judged bite. If it gnaws at the spot where
I myself operated with my needle wrought
into a scalpel, its victuals will very soon turn
putrid. Once more, then, we witness an
absolute refusal to perforate the skin of
the victim elsewhere than at the very point
where the egg was fixed.

The mother selects this point, which is un-
doubtedly that most favourable to the future
prosperity of the larva, though I am not
able clearly to discern the reasons for her
choice; she fixes the egg to it; and the place
where the opening is to be made is hence-
forth determined. It is here that the grub
must bite: only here, never elsewhere. Its
invincible refusal to tackle the Cetonia in any
other part, even though it should die of
starvation, shews us how rigorous is the rule
of conduct with which its instinct is inspired.

As it gropes about, the grub laid on the
victim's ventral surface sooner or later re-
discovers the gaping wound from which I
have removed it. If this takes too long for
my patience, I can myself guide its head to
the place with the point of a paint-brush.
The grub then recognizes the hole of its own
making, slips its neck into it and little by
little dives into the Cetonia's belly, so that
67

More Hunting Wasps

the original state of affairs appears to be
exactly restored. And yet its successful
rearing is henceforth highly problematical.
It is possible that the larva will prosper,
complete its development and spin its co-
coon; it is also possible — and the case is not
unusual — that the Cetonia-larva will soon
turn brown and putrid. We then see the
Scolia itself turn brown, distended as it is
with putrescent foodstuffs, and then cease all
movement, without attempting to withdraw
from the sanies. It dies on the spot, poi-
soned by its excessively high game.

What can be the meaning of this sudden
corruption of the victuals, followed by the
death of the Scolia, when everything ap-
peared to have returned to its normal condi-
tion? I see only one explanation. Dis-
turbed in its activities and diverted from its
usual courses by my interference, the grub,
when replaced on the wound from which I
extracted it, was unable to rediscover the
lode at which it was working a few minutes
earlier; it thrust its way at random into the
victim's entrails; and a few untimely bites
extinguished the last sparks of vitality. Its
confusion rendered it clumsy; and the mis-
take cost it its life. It dies poisoned by the
68

A Dangerous Diet

rich food which, if consumed according to
the rules, should have made it grow plump
and lusty.

I was anxious to observe the deadly effects
of a disturbed meal in another fashion.
This time the victim itself shall disorder the
grub's activities. The Cetonia-larva, as
served up to the young Scolia by its mother,
is profoundly paralysed. Its inertia is com-
plete and so striking that it constitutes one
of the leading features of this narrative.
But we will not anticipate. For the mo-
ment, the thing is to substitute for this inert
larva a similar larva, but one not paralysed,
one very much alive. To ensure that it shall
not double up and crush the grub, I confine
myself to reducing it to helplessness, leav-
ing it otherwise just as I extracted it from
its burrow. I must also be careful of its
legs and mandibles, the least touch of which
would rip open the nursling. With a few
turns of the finest wire I fix it to a little slab
of cork, with its belly in the air. Next,
to provide the grub with a ready-made
hole, knowing that it will refuse to make one
for itself, I contrive a slight incision in the
skin, at the point where the Scolia lays her
egg. I now place the grub upon the larva,
69

More Hunting Wasps

with its head touching the bleeding wound,
and lay the whole on a bed of mould in a
transparent beaker protected by a pane of
glass.

Unable to move, to wriggle, to scratch with
its legs or snap with its mandibles, the Ce-
tonia-larva, a new Prometheus bound, offers
its defenceless flanks to the little Vulture
destined to devour its entrails. Without
too much hesitation, the young Scolia settles
down to the wound made by my scalpel,
which to the grub represents the wound
whence I have just removed it. It thrusts
its neck into the belly of its prey; and for a
couple of days all seems to go well. Then,
lo and behold, the Cetonia turns putrid and
the Scolia dies, poisoned by the ptomaines
of the decomposing game I As before, I
see it turn brown and die on the spot, still
half inside the toxic corpse.

The fatal issue of my experiment is easily
explained. The Cetonia-larva is alive in
every sense. True, I have, by means of
bonds, suppressed its outward movements,
in order to provide the nurseling with a quiet
meal, devoid of danger; but it was not in
my power to subdue its internal movements,
the quivering of the viscera and muscles irri-
tated by its forced immobility and by the
70

A Dangerous Diet

Scolia's bites. The victim is in possession
of its full power of sensation; and it ex-
presses the pain experienced as best it may,
by contractions. Embarrassed by these tre-
mors, these twitches of suffering flesh, in-
commoded at every mouthful, the grub chews
away at random and kills the larva almost
as soon as it has started on it. In a victim
paralysed by the regulation sting, the condi-
tions would be very different. There are
no external movements, nor any internal
movements either, when the mandibles bite,
because the victim is insensible. The grub,
undisturbed in any way, is then able, with
an unfaltering tooth, to pursue its scientific
method of eating.

These marvellous results interested me too
much not to inspire me with fresh devices
when I pursued my investigations. Earlier
enquiries had taught me that the larvs of
the Digger-wasps are fairly indifferent to
the nature of the game, though the mother
always supplies them with the same diet. I
had succeeded in rearing them on a great
variety of prey, without paying regard to
their normal fare. I shall return to this
subject later, when I hope to demonstrate
its great philosophical significance. Let us
profit by the&e data and try to discover what
71

More Hunting Wasps

happens when we give the Scolia food which
is not properly its own.

I select from my heap of garden-mould,
that inexhaustible mine, two larvae of the
Rhinoceros Beetle, Oryctes nasicorniSf ^hout
one-third full-grown, so that their size may
not be out of proportion to the Scolia's. It
is in fact almost identical with the size of
the Cetonia. I paralyse one of them by
giving an injection of ammonia in the nerve-
centres. I make a fine incision in its belly
and I place the Scolia on the opening. The
dish pleases my charge; and it would be
strange indeed if this were not so, consider-
ing that another Scolia-grub, the larva of
the Garden Scolia, feeds on the Oryctes.
The dish suits it, for before long it has bur-
rowed half-way into the succulent paunch.
This time all goes well. Will the rearing
be successful? Not a bit of it! On the
third day, the Oryctes decomposes and the
Scolia dies. Which shall we hold respon-
sible for the failure, myself or the grub?
Myself who, perhaps too unskilfully, admin-
istered the injection of ammonia, or the grub
which, a novice at dissecting a prey dif-
fering from its own, did not know how to
practise its craft upon a changed victim and
began to bite before the proper time?
72

A Dangerous Diet

In my uncertainty, I try again. This time
I shall not interfere, so that my clumsiness
cannot be to blame. As I described when
speaking of the Cetonia-larva, the Oryctes-
larva now lies bound, quite alive, on a strip
of cork. As usual, I make a small opening
in the belly, to entice the grub by means
of a bleeding wound and facilitate its ac-
cess. I obtain the same negative result. In
a little while, the Oryctes is a noisome mass
on which the nursling lies poisoned. The
failure was foreseen: to the difficulties pre-
sented by a prey unknown to my charge was
added the commotion caused by the wrigc
gling of an unparalysed animal.

We will try once more, this time with a
victim paralysed not by me, an unskilled
operator, but by an adept whose ability ranks
so high that it is beyond discussion. Chance
favours me to perfection: yesterday, in a
warm sheltered corner, at the foot of a sandy
bank, I discovered three cells of the Langue-
docian Sphex, each with its Ephippiger and
the recently laid egg. This is the game I
want, a corpulent prey, of a size suited to
the ScoHa and, what is more, in splendid
condition, artistically paralysed according to
rule by a master among masters.

As usual, I install my three Ephippigers
73

More Hunting Wasps

in a glass jar, on a bed of mould; I remove
the egg of the Sphex and on each victim, after
slightly incising the skin of the belly, I place
a young Scolia-grub. For three or four days
my charges feed upon this game, so novel
to them, without any sign of repugnance or
hesitation. By the fluctuations of the di-
gestive canal I perceive that the work of
nutrition is proceeding as it should; things
are happening just as if the dish were a
Cetonia-larva. The change of diet, com-
plete though it is, has in no way affected the
appetite of the Scolia-grubs. But this pros-
sperous condition does not last long. About
the fourth day, a little sooner in one case, a
little later in another, the three Ephippigers
become putrid and the Scoliae die at the same
time.

This result is eloquent. Had I left the
egg of the Sphex to hatch, the larva coming
out of it would have fed upon the Ephip-
piger; and for the hundredth time I should
have witnessed an Incomprehensible specta-
cle, that of an animal which, devoured piece-
meal for nearly a fortnight, grows thin and
empty, shrivels up and yet retains to the
very end the freshness peculiar to living
flesh. Substitute for this Sphex-larva a Sco-
74

A Dangerous Diet

lia-larva of almost the same size; let the
dish be the same though the guest is differ-
ent; and healthy live flesh Is promptly re-
placed by pestilent rotten flesh. That which
under the mandibles of the Sphex would for
a long while have remained wholesome
food promptly becomes a poisonous liques-
cence under the mandibles of the Scolia.

It is impossible to explain the preserva-
tion of the victuals until finally consumed by
supposing that the venom injected by the
Wasp when she delivers her paralysing stings
possesses antiseptic properties. The three
Ephippigers were operated on by the Sphex.
Able to keep fresh under the mandibles of
the Sphex-larvae, why did they promptly go
bad under the mandibles of the Scolia-larvae ?
Any idea of an antiseptic must needs be re-
jected: a liquid preservative which would
act in the first case could not fail to act in
the second, as its virtues would not depend
on the teeth of the consumer.

Those of you who are versed in the know-
ledge attaching to this problem, investigate,
I beg you, search, sift, see if you can discover
the reason why the victuals keep fresh when
consumed by a Sphex, whereas they prompt-
ly become putrid when consumed by a
75

More Hunting Wasps

Scolia. For me, I see only one reason; and
I very much doubt whether any one can sug-
gest another.

Both larvae practise a special art of eat-
ing, which is determined by the nature of
the game. The Sphex, when sitting down to
an Ephippiger, the food that has fallen to
its lot, knows thoroughly how to consume
it and how to preserve, to the very end, the
glimmer of life which keeps it fresh; but, if
it has to browse upon a Cetonia-grub, whose
different structure would confuse its talents
as a dissector, it would soon have nothing
before it but a heap of putrescence. The
ScoHa, in its turn, is familiar with the method
of eating the Cetonia-grub, its invariable por-
tion; but it does not understand the art of
eating the Ephippiger, though the dish is
to its taste. Unable to dissect this unknown
species of game, its mandibles slash away
at random, killing the creature outright as
soon as they take their first bites of the
deeper tissues of the victim. That is the
whole secret.

One more word, on which I shall enlarge
in another chapter. I observe that the Sco-
llae to which I give Ephlpplgers paralysed
by the Sphex keep in excellent condition, de-
spite the change of diet, so long as the pro-
76

A Dangerous Diet

visions retain their freshness. They lan-
guish when the game goes high; and they
die when putridity supervenes. Their death,
therefore, is due not to an unaccustomed
diet, but to poisoning by one or other of
those terrible toxins which are engendered
by animal corruption and which chemistry
calls by the name of ptomaines. Therefore,
notwithstanding the fatal outcome of my
three attempts, I remain persuaded that the
unfamiliar method of rearing would have
been perfectly successful had the Ephippigers
not gone bad, that is, if the Scolias had known
how to eat them according to the rules.

What a dehcate and dangerous thing is the
art of eating in these carnivorous larvae sup-
plied with a single victim, which they have
to spend a fortnight in consuming, on the
express condition of not killing it until the
very end! Could our physiological science,
of which, with good reason, we are so proud,
describe, without blundering, the method to
be followed in the successive mouthfuls?
How has a miserable grub learnt what our
knowledge cannot tell us? By habit, the
Darwinians will reply, who see in instinct an
acquired habit.

Before deciding this serious matter, I will
ask you to reflect that the first Wasp, of
77

More Hunting Wasps

whatever kind, that thought of feed-
ing her progeny on a Cetonia-grub or on
any other large piece of game demanding
long preservation could necessarily have left
no descendants unless the art of consuming
food without causing putrescence had been
practised, with all its scrupulous caution,
from the first generation onwards. Having
as yet learnt nothing by habit or by atavistic
transmission, since it was making a first be-
ginning, the nurseling would bite into its
provender at random. It would be starv-
ing, it would have no respect for its prey.
It would carve its joint at random; and we
have just seen the fatal consequence of an
ill-directed bite. It would perish — I have
just proved this in the most positive man-
ner— it would perish, poisoned by its vic-
tim, already dead and putrid.

To prosper, it would have, although a
novice, to know what was permitted and
what forbidden in ransacking the creature's
entrails; nor would it be enough for the
larva to be approximately in possession of
this difficult secret: it would be indispensable
that it should possess the secret completely,
for a single bite, if delivered before the right
moment, would inevitably involve its own
demise. The Scoliae of my experiments are
78

A Dangerous Diet

not novices, far from it: they are the de-
scendants of carvers that have practised their
art since Scoliae first came into the world;
nevertheless they all perish from the decom-
position of the rations supplied, when I try to
feed them on Ephippigers paralysed by the
Sphex. Very expert in the method of at-
tacking the Cetonia, they do not know how
to set about the business of discreetly con-
suming a species of game new to them. All
that escapes them is a few details, for the
trade of an ogre fed on hve flesh is familiar
to them in its general features; and these
unheeded details are enough to turn their
food into poison. What, then, happened in
the beginning, when the larva bit for the first
time into a luscious victim? The inexpe-
rienced creature perished; of that there is
not a shadow of doubt, unless we admit an
absurdity and imagine the larva of antiquity
feeding upon those terrible ptomaines which
so swiftly kill its descendants to-day.

Nothing will ever make me admit and no
unprejudiced mind can admit that what was
once food has become a horrible poison.
What the larva of antiquity ate was live
flesh and not putrescence. Nor can it be
admitted that the chances of fortune can
have led at the first trial to success in a
79

More Hunting Wasps

system of nourishment so full of pit-falls:
fortuitous results are preposterous amid so
many complications. Either the feeding is
strictly methodical at the beginning, in con-
formity with the organic exigencies of the
prey devoured, and the Wasp established
her race; or else it was hesitating, without
determined rules, and the Wasp left no suc-
cessor. In the first case we behold innate
instinct; in the second acquired habit.

A strange acquisition, truly! An acquisi-
tion presumed to be made by an impossible
creature; an acquisition supposed to develop
in no less impossible successors ! Though
the snow-ball, slowly rolling, at last becomes
an enormous sphere, it is still necessary that
the starting-point shall not have been nil.
The big ball implies the little ball, as small
as you please. Now, in harking back to the
origin of these acquired habits, if I interro-
gate the possibilities I obtain zero as the
only answer. If the animal does not know
its trade thoroughly, if it has to acquire
something, all the more if it has to acquire
everything, it perishes: that is inevitable;
without the little snow-ball the big snow-
ball cannot be rolled. If it has nothing to
acquire. If it knows all that it needs to know,
it flourishes and leaves descendants behind
80

A Dangerous Diet

it. But then it possesses innate instinct, the
instinct which learns nothing and forgets
nothing, the instinct which Is steadfast
throughout time.

The building up of theories has never ap-
pealed to me: I suspect them one and all.
To argue nebulously upon dubious premises
likes me no better. I observe, I experiment
and I let the facts speak for themselves.
We have just heard these facts. Let each
now decide for himself whether Instinct is
an innate faculty or an acquired habit.

8i

CHAPTER IV

THE CETONIA-LARVA

nr^HE Scolia's feeding-period lasts, on the
-■■ average, for a dozen days or so. By
then the victuals are no more than a crum-
pled bag, a skin emptied of the last scrap of
nutriment. A little earlier, the russet-yellow
tint announces the extinction of the last spark
of life in the creature that is being devoured.
The empty skin is pushed back to make
space; the dining-room, a shapeless cavity
with crumbling walls, is tidied up a little;
and the Scolia-grub sets to work on its co-
coon without further delay.

The first courses form a general scaffold-
ing, which finds a support here and there on
the earthen walls, and consist of a rough,
blood-red fabric. When the larva is merely
laid, as required by my investigations, in a
hollow made with the finger-tip in the bed of
mould, it is not able to spin its cocoon, for
want of a ceiling to which to fasten the upper
threads of its network. To weave its co-
coon, every spinning larva is compelled to
82

The Cetonia-larva

isolate itself in a hammock slung in an open-
work enclosure, which enables it to distribute
its thread uniformly in all directions. If
there be no ceiling, the upper part of the
cocoon cannot be fashioned, because the
worker lacks the necessary points of sup-
port. Under these conditions my Scolia-
grubs contrive at most to upholster their
little pit with a thick down of reddish silk.
Discouraged by futile endeavours, some of
them die. It is as if they had been killed
by the silk which they omit to disgorge be-
cause they are unable to make the right use
of it. This, if we were not watchful, would
be a very frequent cause of failure in our
attempts at artificial rearing. But, once the
danger has been perceived, the remedy is
simple. I make a ceiling over the cavity by
laying a short strip of paper above it. If I
want to see how matters are progressing, I
bend the strip into a semicircle, into a half-
cylinder with open ends. Those who wish
to play the breeder for themselves will be
able to profit by these little practical details.
In twenty-four hours the cocoon is fin-
ished; at least, it no longer allows us to see
the grub, which is doubtless making the walls
of its dwelling still thicker. At first the co-
coon Is a vivid red; later it changes to a
83

More Hunting Wasps

light chestnut-brown. Its form is that of
an ellipsoid, with a major axis 26 millimetres
in length, while the minor axis measures 1 1
millimetres.^ These dimensions, which inci-
dentally are inclined to vary slightly, are
those of the female cocoons. In the other
sex they are smaller and may measure as
little as 17 millimetres in length by 7 milli-
metres in width. ^.

The two ends of the ellipsoid have the
same form, so much so that it is only thanks
to an individual peculiarity, independent of
the shape, that we can tell the cephalic from
the anal extremity. The cephalic pole is
flexible and yields to the pressure of my
tweezers ; the anal pole is hard and unyield-
ing. The wrapper is double, as in the co-
coons of the Sphex.^ The outer envelope,
consisting of pure silk, is thin, flexible and
offers little resistance. It is closely super-
imposed upon the inner envelope and is easily
separated from it everywhere, except at the
anal end, where it adheres to the second
envelope. The adhesion of the two wrap-
pers at one end and the non-adhesion at the
other are the cause of the differences which

1 1.014 ^ 429 inch. — Translator's Note.
2 .663 "< .Z73 inch. — Translator's Note.
8 Cf. The Hunting Wasps: chaps, iv. to x. et passim. —
Translator's Note.

84

The Cetonia-larva

the tweezers reveal when piaching the two
ends of the cocoon.

The inner envelope is firm, elastic, rigid
and, to a certain point, brittle. I do not
hesitate to look upon it as consisting of a
silken tissue which the larva, towards the
end of its task, has steeped thoroughly in a
sort of varnish prepared not by the silk-
glands but by the stomach. The cocoons
of the Sphex have already shown us a simi-
lar varnish. This product of the chylific
ventricle is chestnut-brown. It is this which,
saturating the thickness of the tissue, ef-
faces the bright red of the beginning and
replaces it by a brown tint. It is this again
which, disgorged more profusely at the lower
end of the cocoon, glues the two wrappers
together at that point.

The perfect insect is hatched at the begin-
ning of July. The emergence takes place
without any violent effraction, without any
ragged rents. A clean, circular fissure ap-
pears at some distance from the top; and the
cephalic end is detached all of a piece, as a
loose lid might be. It is as though the
recluse had only to raise a cover by butting
it with her head, so exact is the line of divi-
sion, at least as regards the inner envelope,
the stronger and more important of the two.
85

More Hunting Wasps

As for the outer wrapper, its lack of resist-
ance enables it to yield without difficulty
when the other gives way.

I cannot quite make out by what knack the
Wasp contrives to detach the cap of the inner
shell with such accuracy. Is it the art prac-
tised by the tailor when cutting his stuff, with
mandibles taking the place of scissors? I
hardly venture to admit as much,: the tissue
is so tough and the circle of division so pre-
cise. The mandibles are not sharp enough
to cut without leaving a ragged edge; and
then what geometrical certainty they would
need for an operation so perfect that it might
well have been performed with the com-
passes!

I suspect therefore that the Scolia first
fashions the outer sac in accordance with the
usual method, that is, by distributing the silk
uniformly, without any special preparation
of one part of the wall more than of an-
other, and that it afterwards changes its
method of weaving in order to attend to
the main work, the inner shell. In this it
apparently imitates the Bembex,^ which
weaves a: sort of eel-trap, whose ample mesh
allows it to gather grains of sand outside

1 Cf. The Hunting Wasps: chaps, xiv. to xvi. — Trans-
lator's Note.

86

The Cetonia-larva

and encrust them one by one in the silky net-
work, and completes the performance with a
cap fitting the entrance to the trap. This
provides a circular line of kast resistance,
along which the casket breaks open after-
wards. If the Scolia really works in the
same manner, everything is explained: the
eel-trap, while still open, enables it to soak
with varnish both the inside and the outside
of the inner shell, which has to acquire the
consistenQy of parchment; lastly, the cap
which completes and closes the structure
leaves for the future a circular line capable
of splitting easily and neatly.

This is enough on the subject of the Sco-
iia-grub. Let us go back to its provender,
of whose remarkable structure we as yet
know nothing. In order that it may be con-
sumed with the delicate anatomical discre-
tion imposed by the necessity of having fresh
food to the last, the Cetonia-grub must be
plunged into a state of absolute immobility:
any twitchings on its part — as the experi-
ments which I have undertaken go to prove
— would discourage our nibbling larva and
impede the work of carving, which has to
be effected with so much circumspection. It
is not enough for the victim to be unable to
move from place to place beneath the soil:
87

More Hunting Wasps

In addition to this, the contractible power In
Its sturdy muscular organism must be sup-
pressed.

In its normal state, this larva, at the very
least disturbance, curls itself up, almost as
the Hedgehog does; and the two halves of
the ventral surface are laid one against the
other. You are quite surprised at the
strength which the creature displays In keep-
ing itself thus contracted. If you try to un-
roll it, your fingers encounter a resistance far
greater than the size of the animal would
have caused you to suspect. To overcome
the resistance of this sort of spring coiled
upon Itself, you have to force it, so much
so that you are afraid. If you persist, of see-
ing the Indomitable spiral suddenly burst
and shoot forth Its entrails.

A similar muscular energy Is found In the
larvae of the Oryctes,^ the Anoxia,^ the Cock-
chafer. Weighed down by a heavy belly
and living underground, where they feed
either on leaf-mould or on roots, these larvae
all possess the vigorous constitution needed
to drag their corpulence through a resisting
medium. All of them also roll themselves

1 Also known as the Rhinoceros Beetle. — Translator's
Note.

2 A Beetle akin to the Cockchafer. — Translator's Note.

88

The Cetonia-larva

into a hook which is not straightened without
an effort.

Now what would become of the egg and
the new-born grub of the Scoliae, fixed under
the belly, at the centre of the Cetonia's spiral,
or inside the hook of the Oryctes or the
Anoxia? They would be crushed between
the jaws of the living vice. It is essential
that the arc should slacken and the hook
unbend, without the least possibility of their
returning to a state of tension. Indeed, the
well-being of the Scoliae demands something
more : those powerful bodies must not retain
even the power to quiver, lest they derange
a method of feeding which has to be con-
ducted with the greatest caution.

The Cetonia-grub to which the Two-
banded Scolia's egg is fastened fulfils the
required conditions admirably. It is lying
on its back, in the midst of the mould, with
its belly fully extended. Long accustomed
though I be to this spectacle of victims para-
lysed by the sting of the Hunting Wasp, I
cannot suppress my astonishment at the pro-
found immobility of the prey before my eyes.
In the other victims with flexible skins. Cater-
pillars, Crickets, Mantes, Ephippigers, I per-
ceived at least some pulsations of the abdo-
men, a few feeble contortions under the stim-
89

More Hunting Wasps

ulus of a needle. There is nothing of the
sort here, nothing but absolute inertia, except
in the head, where I see, from time to time,
the mouth-parts open and close, the palpi
give a tremor, the short antennae sway to
and fro. A prick with the point of a needle
causes no contraction, no matter what the
spot pricked. Though I stab it through
and through, the creature does not stir, be
it ever so little. A corpse is not more inert.
Never, since my remotest investigations,
have I witnessed so profound a paralysis.
I have seen many wonders due to the surgi-
cal talent of the Wasp; but to-day's marvel
surpasses them all.

I am doubly surprised when I consider
the unfavourable conditions under which the
Scolia operates. The other paralysers work
in the open air, in the full light of day.
There is nothing to hinder them. They en-
joy full liberty of action in seizing the prey,
holding it in position and sacrificing it; they
are able to see the victim and to parry its
means of defence, to avoid its spears, its
pincers. The spot or spots to be attained
are within their reach; they drive the dag-
ger in without let or hindrance.

What difficulties, on the other hand, await
the Scolia I She hunts underground, in the
90

The Cetonia-larva

blackest darkness. Her movements are la-
boured and uncertain, owing to the mould,
which is continually giving way all round her;
she cannot keep her eyes on the terrible man-
dibles, which are capable of cutting her body
in two with a single bite. Moreover, the
Cetonia-grub, perceiving that the enemy is
approaching, assumes its defensive posture,
rolls itself up and makes a shield for its only
vulnerable part, the ventral surface, with its
convex back. No, it cannot be an easy oper-
ation to subdue the powerful larva in its
underground retreat and to stab with the
precision which immediate paralysis requires.

We wish that we might witness the strug-
gle between the two adversaries and see at
first hand what happens, but we cannot hope
to succeed. It all takes place in the mys-
terious darkness of the soil; in broad day-
light, the attack would not be delivered, for
the victim must remain where it is and then
and there receive the egg, which is unable to
thrive and develop except under the warm
cover of vegetable mould. If direct obser-
vation is impracticable, we can at least fore-
see the main outlines of the drama by allow-
ing ourselves to be guided by the warlike
manoeuvres of other burrowers.

I picture things thus: digging and rum-
91

More Hunting Wasps

maging through the heap of mould, guided
perhaps by that singular sensibility of the
antennae which enables the Hairy Am-
mophila to discover the Grey Worm ^ un-
derground, the Scolia ends by finding a Ce-
tonia-larva, a good plump one, in the pink
of condition, having reached its full growth,
just what the grub which is to feed on it
requires. Forthwith, the assaulted victim,
contracting desperately, rolls itself into a
ball. The other seizes it by the skin of the
neck. To unroll It Is Impossible to the In-
sect, for I myself have some trouble In doing
so. One single point is accessible to the
sting: the under part of the head, or rather
of the first segments, which are placed out-
side the coil, so that the grub's hard cra-
nium makes a rampart for the hinder ex-
tremity, which Is less well defended. Here
the Wasp's sting enters and here only can
it enter, within a narrowly circumscribed
area. One stab only of the lancet is given
at this point, one only because there is no
room for more; and this Is enough: the
larva Is absolutely paralysed.

The nervous functions are abolished In-
stantly; the muscular contractions cease; and

iThe caterpillar of the Turnip Moth. Cf. The Hunt-
ing Wasps: chaps, xviii. to xx. — Translator's Note.
92

The Cetonia-larva

the animal uncoils like a broken spring.
Henceforth motionless, it lies on its back,
its ventral surface fully exposed from end
to end. On the median line of this surface,
towards the rear, near the brown patch due
to the alimentary broth contained in the in-
testine, the Scolia lays her egg and without
more ado, leaves everything lying on the
actual spot where the murder was committed,
in order to go in search of another victim.

This is how the deed must be done: the
results prove it emphatically. But then the
Cetonia-grub must possess a very exceptional
structure in its nervous organization. The
larva's violent contraction leaves but a single
point of attack open to the sting, the under
part of the neck, which is doubtless unco-
vered when the victim tries to defend itself
with its mandibles; and yet a stab in this one
point produces the most thorough paralysis
that I have ever seen. It is the general
rule that larvae possess a centre of innerva-
tion for each segment. This is so in part-
icular with the Grey Worm, the sacrificial
victim of the Hairy Ammophila. The Wasp
Is acquainted with this anatomical secret:
she stabs the caterpillar again and again,
from end to end, segment by segment, gan-
glion by ganglion. With such an organiza-
93

More Hunting Wasps

tion the Cetonia-grub, unconquerably coiled
upon itself, would defy the paralyser's sur-
gical skill.

If the first ganglion were wounded, the
others would remain uninjured; and the pow-
erbul body, actuated by these last, would
lose none of its powers of contraction. Woe
then to the egg, to the young grub held fast
in its embrace ! And how insurmountable
would be the difficulties if the Scolia, work-
ing in the profound darkness amid the crum-
bling soil and confronted by a terrible pair
of mandibles, had to stab each segment in
turn with her sting, with the certainty of
method displayed by the Ammophila ! The
delicate operation is possible in the open air,
where nothing stands in the way, in broad
daylight, where the sight guides the scalpel,
and with a patient which can always be re-
leased if it becomes dangerous. But in the
dark, underground, amidst the ruins of a
ceiling which crumbles in consequence of the
conflict and at close quarters with an op-
ponent greatly her superior in strength, how
is the Scolia to guide her sting with the
accuracy that is essential if the stabs are to
be repeated?

So profound a paralysis; the difficulty of
vivisection underground; the desperate coil-

94

The Cetonia-larva

ing of the victim: all these things tell me
that the Cetonia-grub, as regards its nervous
system, must possess a structure peculiar to
itself. The whole of the ganglia must be
concentrated in a limited area in the first
segments, almost under the neck. I see this
as clearly as though it had been revealed to
me by a post-mortem dissection.

Never was anatomical forecast more fully
confirmed by direct examination. After
forty-eight hours in benzine, which dissolves
the fat and renders the nervous system more
plainly visible, the Cetonia-grub is subjected
to dissection. Those of my readers who are
familiar with these investigations will un-
derstand my delight. What a clever school
is the Scolia's ! It is just as I thought ! Ad-
mirable! The thoracic and abdominal gan-
glia are gathered into a single nervous mass,
situated within the quadrilateral bounded by
the four hinder legs, which legs are very near
the head. It is a tiny, dull-white cylinder,
about three millimetres long by half a milli-
metre wide.^ This is the organ which the
Scolia's sting must attack in order to secure
the paralysis of the whole body, excepting
the head, which is provided with special
ganglia. From it run numbers of filaments

^.117 X .019 inch. — Translator's Note.
95

More Hunting Wasps

which actuate the feet and the powerful mus-
cular layer which is the creature's essential
motor organ. When examined merely
through the pocket-lens, this cylinder appears
to be slightly furrowed transversely, a proof
of its complex structure. Under the micro-
scope, it is seen to be formed by the close
juxtaposition, the welding, end to end, of
the ganglia, which can be distinguished one
from the other by a slight intermediate
groove. The bulkiest are the first, the
fourth and the tenth, or last; these are all
very nearly of equal size. The rest are
barely half or even a third as large as those
mentioned.

The Interrupted Scolia experiences the
same hunting and surgical difficulties when
she attacks, in the crumbling, sandy soil, the
larvae of the Shaggy Anoxia or of the Morn-
ing Anoxia, according to the district; and
these difficulties, if they are to be overcome,
demand in the victim a concentrated nervous
system, like the Cetonia's. Such is my lo-
gical conviction before making my examina-
tion; such also is the result of direct observa-
tion. When subjected to the scalpel, the
larva of the Morning Anoxia shows me its
centres of innervation for the thorax and
the abdomen, gathered into a short cylinder,
96

The Cetonia-larva

which, placed very far forward, almost Im-
mediately after the head, does not run back
beyond the level of the second pair of legs.
The vulnerable point is thus easily accessible
to the sting, despite the creature's posture
of defence, in which it contracts and coils up.
In this cylinder I recognize eleven ganglia,
one more than in the Cetonia. The first
three, or thoracic, ganglia are plainly distin-
guishable from one another, although they
are set very close together; the rest are all
in contact. The largest are the three tho-
racic ganglia and the eleventh.

After ascertaining these facts, I remem-
bered Swammerdam's ^ investigations into
the grub of the Monoceros, our Oryctes nas't-
cornis. I chanced to possess an abridgement
of the Biblia nature, the masterly work of
the father of insect anatomy. I consulted
the venerable volume. It informed me that
the learned Dutchman had been struck, long
before I was, by an anatomical peculiarity
similar to that which the larvae of the Ce-
toniae and Anoxiae had shown me in their
nerve-centres. Having observed in the Silk-
worm a nervous system formed of ganglia
distinct one from the other, he was quite sur-

ijan Swammerdam (1637-1680), the Dutch naturalist
and anatomist. — Translator's Note.
97

More Hunting Wasps

prised to find that, in the grub of the Oryctes,
the same system was concentrated into a
short chain of ganglia in juxtaposition. His
was the surprise of the anatomist who, study-
ing the organ qua organ, sees for the first
time an unusual conformation. Mine was of
a different nature : I was amazed to see the
precision with which the paralysis of the vic-
tim sacrificed by the Scolia, a paralysis so
profound in spite of the difficulties of an un-
derground operation, had guided my fore-
cast as to structure when, anticipating the
dissection, I declared in favour of an excep-
tional concentration of the nervous system.
Physiology perceived what anatomy had not
yet revealed, at all events to my eyes, for
since then, on dipping into my books, I have
learnt that these anatomical peculiarities,
which were then so new to me, are now
within the domain of current science. We
know that, in the Scarabaeidae, both the larva
and the perfect insect are endowed with a
concentrated nervous system.

The Garden Scolia attacks Oryctes nasi-
cornis; the Two-banded Scolia the Cetonia;
the Interrupted Scolia the Anoxia. All
three operate below ground, under the most
unfavourable conditions; and all three have
for their victim a larva of one of the Scara-

The Cetonia-larva

baeldae, which, thanks to the exceptional ar-
rangement of its nerve-centres, lends itself,
alone of all larvae, to the Wasp's successful
enterprises. In the presence of this under-
ground game, so greatly varied in size and
shape and yet so judiciously selected to fa-
cilitate paralysis, I do not hesitate to gene-
ralize and I accept, as the ration of the other
Scoliae, larvae of Lamellicorns whose species
will be determined by future observation.
Perhaps one of them will be found to give
chase to the terrible enemy of my crops, the
voracious White Worm, the grub of the
Cockchafer; perhaps the Hemorrhoidal
Scolia, rivalling in size the Garden Scolia
and like her, no doubt, requiring a copious
diet, will be entered in the insects' Who's
Who as the destroyer of the Pine-chafer,
that magnificent Beetle, flecked with white
upon a black op brown ground, who of an
evening, during the summer solstice, browses
on the foliage of the fir-trees. Though un-
able to speak with certainty or precision, I
am inclined to look upon these devourers of
Scarabaeus-grubs as valiant agricultural auxi-
liaries.

The Cetonia-larva has figured hitherto
only in its quality of a paralysed victim. We
will now consider it in its normal «tate.
99

More Hunting Wasps

With its convex back and its almost flat
ventral surface, the creature is like a semi-
cylinder in shape, fuller in the hinder portion.
On the back, each of the segments, except
the last, or anal, segment, puckers into three
thick pads, bristling with stiff, tawny hairs.
The anal segment, much wider than the rest,
is rounded at the end and coloured a deep
brown by the contents of the intestine, which
show through the translucent skin ; it bristles
with hairs like the other segments, but is
level, without pads. On the ventral sur-
face, the segments have no creases; and the
hairs, though abundant, are rather less so
than on the back. The legs, which are quite
well-formed, are short and feeble in com-
parison with the animal's size. The head
has a strong, horny cap for a cranium. The
mandibles are powerful, with bevelled tips
and three or four teeth on the edge of the
bevel.

Its mode of locomotion marks it as an
idiosyncratic, exceptional, fantastic creature,
having no fellow, that I know of, in the in-
sect world. Though endowed with legs —
a trifle short, it is true, but after all as good
as those of a host of other larvae — it never
uses them for walking. It progresses on
its back, always on its back, never otherwise.

100

The Cetonia-larva

By means of wriggling movements and the
purchase afforded by the dorsal bristles, it
makes its way belly upwards, with its legs
kicking the empty air. The spectator to
whom these topsy-turvy gymnastics are a
novelty thinks at first that the creature must
have had a fright of some sort and that it is
struggling as best it can in the face of dan-
ger. He puts it back on its belly; he lays
it on its side. Nothing is of any use; it
obstinately turns over and resumes its dorsal
progress. That is its manner of travelling
over a flat surface; it has no other.

This reversal of the usual mode of walk-
ing is so peculiar to the Cetonia-larva that
it is enough in itself to reveal the grub's
identity to the least expert eyes. Dig into
the vegetable mould formed by the decayed
wood in the hollow trunks of old willow-
trees, search at the foot of rotten stumps or
in heaps of compost; and, if you come upon a
plumpish grub moving along on its back,
there is no room for doubt: your discovery
is a Cetonia-larva.

This topsy-turvy progress is fairly swift
and is not less in speed to that of an equally
fat grub travelling on its legs. It would
even be greater on a polished surface, where
walking on foot is hampered by incessant

lOI

More Hunting Wasps

slips, whereas the numerous hairs of the dor-
sal pads find the necessary support by mul-
tiplying the points of contact. On polished
wood, on a sheet of paper and even on a
strip of glass, I see my grubs moving from
point to point with the same ease as on a
surface of garden mould. In the space of
one minute, on the wood of my table, they
cover a distance of eight inches. The pace
is no swifter on a horizontal bed of sifted
mould. A strip of glass reduces the distance
covered by one half. The slippery surface
only half paralyses this strange method of
locomotion.

We will now place side by side with the
Cetonia-grub the larva of the Morning
Anoxia, the prey of the Interrupted Scolia.
It is very like the larva of the Common
Cockchafer. It is a fat, pot-bellied grub,
with a thick, red cap on its head and armed
with strong, black mandibles, which are
powerful implements for digging and cutting
through roots. The legs are sturdy and end
In a hooked nail. The creature has a long,
heavy, brown paunch. When placed on the
table, it lies on its side; It struggles without
being able to advance or even to remain on
its belly or back. In its usual posture it Is
curled up into a narrow hook. I have never

The Cetonla-larva

seen it straighten itself completely; the bulky
abdomen prevents it. When placed on a
surface of moist sand, the ventripotent crea-
ture is no better able to shift its position:
curved into a fish-hook, it lies on its side.

To dig into the earth and bury itself, it
uses the fore-edge of its head, a sort of
weeding-hoe with the two mandibles for
points. The legs take part in this work, but
far less effectually. In this way it contrives
to dig itself a shallow pit. Then, bracing
itself against the wall of the pit, with the
aid of wriggling movements which are fa-
voured by the short, stiff hairs bristling all
over its body, the grub changes its position
and plunges into the sand, but still with dif-
ficulty.

Apart from a few details, which are of no
importance here, we may repeat this sketch
of the Anoxia-grub and we shall have, if the
size be at least quadrupled, a picture of the
larva of Oryctes nasicornis, the monstrous
prey of the Garden Scolia. Its general ap-
pearance is the same: there is the same exag-
geration of the belly; the same hook-like
curve; the same incapacity for standing on
its legs. And as much may be said of the
larva of Scarabaus pentodon, a fellow-
boarder of the Oryctes and the Cetonia.
103

CHAPTER V

THE PROBLEM OF THE SCOLI^

"^JOW that all the facts have been set
-*-^ forth, it is time to collate them. We
already know that the Beetle-hunters, the
Cerceres,^ prey exclusively on the Weevils
and the Buprestes, that is, on the families
whose nervous system presents a degree of
concentration which may be compared with
that of the Scolia's victims. Those preda-
tory insects, working in the open air, are
exempt from the difficulties which their emu-
lators, working underground, have to over-
come. Their movements are free and are
directed by the sense of sight; but their
surgery is confronted in another respect with
a most arduous problem.

The victim, a Beetle, is covered at all
points with a suit of armour which the sting
is unable to penetrate. The joints alone will
allow the poisoned lancet to pass. Those of
the legs do not in any way comply with the

1 Cf. The Hunting Wasps: chaps, i. to iii. — Translator's
Note.

104

The Problem of the Scoliae

conditions imposed: the result of stinging
them would be merely a partial disorder
which far from subduing the Insect, would
render It more dangerous by irritating it yet
further. A sting In the joint of the neck is
not admissible: it would injure the cervical
gangHa and lead to death, followed by putre-
faction. There remains only the joint be-
tween the corselet and the abdomen.

The sting, in entering here, has to abolish
all movement with a single stab, for any
movement would imperil the rearing of the
larva. The success of the paralysis, there-
fore, demands that the motor ganglia, at
least the three thoracic ganglia, shall be
packed in close contact opposite this point.
This determines the selection of Weevils
and Buprestes, both of which are so strongly
armoured.

But where the prey has only a soft skin,
incapable of stopping the sting, the concen-
trated nervous system is no longer necessary,
for the operator, versed in the anatomical
secrets of her victim, knows to perfection
where the centres of innervation lie; and she
wounds them one after another, if need be
from the first to the last. Thus do the
Ammophllse go to work when dealing with
their caterpillars and the Sphex-wasps when
105

More Hunting Wasps

dealing with their Locusts, Ephipplgers and
Crickets.

With the Scoliae we come once again to a
soft prey, with a skin penetrable by the sting
no matter where it be attacked. Will the
tactics of the caterpillar-hunters, who stab
and stab again, be repeated here? No, for
the difficulty of movement under ground
prohibits so complicated an operation. Only
the tactics of the paralysers of armour-clad
insects are practicable now, for, since there
is but one thrust of the dagger, the feat of
surgery is reduced to its simplest terms, a
necessary consequence of the difficulties of an
underground operation. The Scoliae, then,
whose destiny it is to hunt and paralyse un-
der the soil the victuals for their family, re-
quire a prey made highly vulnerable by the
close assemblage of the nerve-centres, as are
the Weevils and Buprestes of the Cerceres;
and this is why it has fallen to their lot to
share among them the larvae of the Scara-
bseidae.

Before they obtained their allotted por-
tion, so closely restricted and so judiciously
selected; before they discovered the precise
and almost mathematical point at which the
sting must enter to produce a sudden and a
lasting immobility; before they learnt how
io6

The Problem of the Scoliae

to consume, without incurring the risk of
putrefaction, so corpulent a prey: in brief,
before they combined these three conditions
of success, what did the Scoliae do?

The Darwinian school will reply that they
were hesitating, essaying, experimenting.
A long series of blind gropings eventually
hit upon the most favourable combination, a
combination henceforth to be perpetuated
by hereditary transmission. The skilful co-
ordination between the end and the means
was originally the result of an accident.

Chance ! A convenient refuge ! I shrug
my shoulders when I hear it invoked to
explain the genesis of an instinct so complex
as that of the Scoliae. In the beginning, you
say, the creature gropes and feels its way;
there is nothing settled about its preferences.
To feed its carnivorous larvae it levies
tribute on every species of game which is not
too much for the huntress' power or the
nurseling's appetite; its descendants try now
this, now that, now something else, at ran-
dom, until the accumulated centuries lead to
the selection which best suits the race. Then
habit grows fixed and becomes instinct.

Very well. Let us agree that the Scolia
of antiquity sought a different prey from that
adopted by the modern huntress. If the
107

More Hunting Wasps

family throve upon a diet now discontinued,
we fail to see that the descendants had any
reason to change it: animals have not the
gastronomic fancies of an epicure whom
satiety makes difficult to please. Because
the race did well upon this fare, it became
habitual; and instinct became differently
fixed from what it is to-day. If, on the
other hand, the original food was unsuitable,
the existence of the family was jeopardized;
and any attempt at future improvement be-
came impossible, because an unhappily in-
spired mother would leave no heirs.

To escape falling into this twofold trap,
the theorists will reply that the Scoliae are
descended from a precursor, an indetermi-
nate creature, of changeable habits and
changing form, modifying itself in accord-
ance with its environment and with the re-
gional and climatic conditions and branching
out into races each of which has become a
species with the attributes which distinguish it
today. The precursor is the deus ex machina
of evolution. When the difficulty becomes
altogether too importunate, quick, a pre-
cursor, to fill up the gaps, quick, an imagin-
ary creature, the nebulous plaything of the
mind! This is seeking to lighten the dark-
ness with a still deeper obscurity; to illumine
io8

The Problem of the Scoliae

the day by piling cloud upon cloud. Precur-
sors are easier to find than sound arguments.
Nevertheless, let us put the precursor of the
Scoliae to the test.

What did she do? Being capable of
everything, she did a bit of everything.
Among its descendants were innovators who
developed a taste for tunnelling in sand and
vegetable mould. There they encountered
the larvae of the Cetonia, the Oryctes, the
Anoxia, succulent morsels on which to rear
their families. By degrees the indetermin-
ate Wasp adopted the sturdy proportions de-
manded by underground labour. By degrees
she learnt to stab her plump neighbours in
scientific fashion; by degrees she acquired the
difficult art of consuming her prey without
killing it; at length, by degrees, aided by the
richness of her diet, she became the powerful
Scolia with whom we are familiar. Having
reached this point, the species assumes a
permanent form, as does its instinct.

Here we have a multiplicity of stages, all
of the slowest, all of the most incredible
nature, whereas the Wasp cannot found a
race except on the express condition of com-
plete success from the first attempt. We
will not insist further upon the insurmount-
able objection; we will admit that, amid so
109

More Hunting Wasps

many unfavourable chances, a few favoured
individuals survive, becoming more and more
numerous from one generation to the next,
in proportion as the dangerous art of rear-
ing the young is perfected. Slight variations
in one and the same direction form a definite
whole ; and at long last the ancient precursor
has become the Scolia of our own times.

By the aid of a vague phraseology which
juggles with the secret of the centuries and
the unknown things of life, it is easy to build
up a theory in which our mental sloth de-
lights, after being discouraged by difficult
researches whose final result is doubt rather
than positive statement. But if, so far from
being satisfied with hazy generalities and
adopting as current coin the terms conse-
crated by fashion, we have the perseverance
to explore the truth as far as lies in our
power, the aspect of things will undergo a
great change and we shall discover that they
are far less simple than our overprecipltate
views declared them to be. Generalization
is certainly a most valuable instrument: sci-
ence Indeed exists only by virtue of it. Let
us none the less beware of generalizations
which are not based upon very firm and mani-
fold foundations.

When these foundations are lacking, the

The Problem of the Scoliae

child is the great generalizer. For him, the
feathered world consists merely of birds;
the race of reptiles merely of snakes, the only
difference being that some are big and some
are little. Knowing nothing, he generalizes
in the highest degree ; he simplifies, in his
inability to perceive the complex. Later he
will learn that the Sparrow is not the Bull-
finch, that the Linnet is not the Greenfinch;
he will particularize and to a greater degree
each day, as his faculty of observation be-
comes more fully trained. In the beginning
he saw nothing but resemblances; he now
sees differences, but still not plainly enough
to avoid incongruous comparisons.

In his adult years he will almost to a cer-
tainty commit zoological blunders similar to
those which my gardener retails to me.
Favier, an old soldier, has never opened a
book, for the best of reasons. He barely
knows how to cipher : arithmetic rather than
reading is forced upon us by the brutalities
of life. Having followed the flag over
three-quarters of the globe, he has an open
mind and a memory crammed with reminis-
cences, which does not prevent him, when
we chat about animals, from making the most
crazy assertions. For him the Bat is a Rat
that has grown wings ; the Cuckoo is a Spar-
in

More Hunting Wasps

row-hawk retired from business; the Slug is
a Snail who has lost his shell with the ad-
vance of years; the Nightjar/ the Chaoucho-
grapaou, as he calls her, is an elderly Toad,
who, becoming enamoured of milk-food, has
grown feathers, so that she may enter the
byres and milk the Goats. It is impossible
to drive these fantastic ideas out of his head.
Favier himself, as will be seen, is an evolu-
tionist after his own fashion, an evolutionist
of a very daring type. In accounting for
the origin of animals nothing gives him
pause. He has a reply to everything:
" this " comes from " that." If you ask
him why, he answers :

" Look at the resemblance I "

Shall we reproach him with these insani-
ties, when we hear another, misled by the
Monkey's build, acclaim the Pithecanthropus
as man's precursor? Shall we reject the
metamorphosis of the Chaoucho-grapaou,
when people tell, us in all seriousness that, in
the present stage of scientific knowledge, it is
absolutely proved that man is descended
from some rough-hewn Ape? Of the two
transformations, Favier's strikes me as the
more credible. A painter of my acquaint-

1 Known also as the Goatsucker, because of the mis-
taken belief that the bird sucks the milk of Goats, and,
in America, as the Whippoorwill. — Translator's Note.

112

The Problem of the Scoliae

ance, a brother of the great composer Fe-
licien David,^ favoured me one day with his
reflections on the human structure:

'' Ve^ moun bet ami/' he said. ^^ Fe:
I'home a lou dintre d'un por et lou defero
d'uno mounino. See, my dear friend, see:
man has the inside of a pig and the outside
of a monkey."

I recommend the painter's aphorism to
those who might Hke to discover man's origin
in the Hog when the Ape has gone out of
fashion. According to David, descent is
proved by internal resemblances:

" Uhome a lou dintre d'un por."

The inventory of precursory types sees
nothing but organic resemblances and dis-
dains the differences of aptitude. By con-
sulting only the bones, the vertebrae, the hair,
the nervures of the wings, the joints of the
antennae, the imagination may build iip any
sort of genealogical tree that will fit with
our theories of classification, for, when all
is said, the animal, in its widest generaliza-
tion, is represented by a digestive tube.
With this common factor, the way lies open
to every kind of error. A machine is
judged not by this or that train of wheels,

1 Felicien Cesar David (1810-1876). His chief work
was the choral symphony Le Desert. — Translator's Note.
"3

More Hunting Wasps

but by the nature of the work accomplished.
The monumental roasting-jack of a wag-
goners' inn and a Breguet ^ chronometer
both have trains of cogwheels geared in al-
most a similar fashion. Are we to class the
two mechanisms together? Shall we forget
that the one turns a shoulder of mutton be-
fore the hearth, while the other divides time
into seconds?

In the same way, the organic scaffolding
is dominated from on high by the aptitudes
of the animal, especially that superior char-
acteristic, the psychical aptitudes. That the
Chimpanzee and the hideous Gorilla possess
close resemblances of structure to our own is
obvious. But let us for a moment consider
their aptitudes. What differences, what a
dividing gulf! Without exalting ourselves
as high as the famous reed of which Pascal ^
speaks, that reed which, in its weakness, by
the mere fact that it knows itself to be
crushed, is superior to the world that crushes
it, we may at least ask to be shown, some-
where, an animal making an Implement,
which will multiply Its skill and its strength,

1 Louis Breguet (1803-1883), a famous Parisian watch-
maker and physicist. — Translator's Note.

^Blaise Pascal (1623-1662). The allusion is to a pass-
age in the philospher's Pensees. Pascal describes man
as a reed, the weakest thing in nature, but " a thinking
reed." — Translator's Note.

114

The Problem of the Scoliae

or taking possession of fire, the primordial
element of progress. Master of implements
and of fire ! These two aptitudes, simple
though they be, characterize man better than
the number of his vertebrae and his molars.

You tell us that man, at first a hairy brute,
walking on all fours, has risen on his hind-
legs and shed his fur; and you complacently
demonstrate how the elimination of the hairy
pelt was effected. Instead of bolstering up
a theory with a handful of fluff gained or
lost, it would perhaps be better to settle how
the original brute became the possessor of
implements and fire. Aptitudes are more
important than hair; and you neglect them
because it is there that the insurmountable
difficulty really resides. See how the great
master of evolution hesitates and stammers
when he tries, by fair means or foul, to fit
instinct into the mould of his formulae. It
is not so easy to handle as the colour of the
pelt, the length of the tail, the ear that
droops or stands erect. Yes, our master
well knows that this is where the shoe
pinches ! Instinct escapes him and brings
his theory crumbling to the ground.

Let us return to what the Scolias teach us
on this question, which incidentally touches
on our own origin. In conformity with the
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More Hunting Wasps

Darwinian ideas, we have accepted an un-
known precursor, who by dint of repeated
experiment, adopted as the victuals to be
hoarded the larvae of the Scarabaeidae. This
precursor, modified by varying circumstances,
is supposed to have subdivided herself into
ramifications, one of which, digging into
vegetable mould and preferring the Cetonia
to any other game inhabiting the same heap,
became the Two-banded Scolia ; another, also
addicted to exploring the soil, but selecting
the Oryctes, left as its descendant the Gar-
den Scolia; and a third, establishing itself
in sandy ground, where it found the Anoxia,
was the ancestress of the Interrupted Scolia.
To these three ramifications we must beyond
a doubt add others which complete the series
of the Scoliae. As their habits are known to
me only by analogy, I confine myself to men-
tioning them.

The three species at least, therefore, with
which I am familiar would appear to be de-
rived from a common precursor. To tra-
verse the distance from the starting-point to
the goal, all three have had to contend with
difliculties, which are extremely grave if
considered one by one and are aggravated
even more by this circumstance, that the
overcoming of one would lead to nothing
ii6

The Problem of the Scoliae

unless the others were surmounted as suc-
cessfully. Success, then, is contingent upon
a series of conditions, each one of which
offers almost no chance of victory, so that
the fulfilment of them all becomes a mathe-
matical absurdity if we are to invoke acci-
dent alone.

And, in the first place, how was it that the
Scolia of antiquity, having to provide rations
for her carnivorous family, adopted for her
prey only those larvae which, owing to the
concentration of their nervous systems, form
so remarkable and so rare an exception in
the insect order? What chance would
hazard offer her of obtaining this prey, the
most suitable of all because the most vulner-
able ? The chance represented by unity com-
pared with the indefinite number of ento-
mological species. The odds are as one to
immensity.

Let us continue. The larva of the Scara-
bseid is snapped up underground, for the
first time. The victim protests, defends it-
self after its fashion, coils itself up and pre-
sents to the sting on every side a surface
on which a wound entails no serious danger.
And yet the Wasp, an absolute novice, has
to select, for the thrust of its poisoned
weapon, one single point, narrowly restricted
"7

More Hunting Wasps

and hidden in the folds of the larva's body.
If she miscalculates, she may be killed: the
larva, irritated by the smarting puncture, is
strong enough to disembowel her with the
tusks of its mandibles. If she escapes the
danger, she will nevertheless perish without
leaving any offspring, since the necessary pro-
visions will be lacking. Salvation for her-
self and her race depends on this: whether
at the first thrust she is able to reach the
little nervous plexus which measures barely
one-fiftieth of an inch in width. What
chance has she of plunging her lancet into it,
if there is nothing to guide her? The chance
represented by unity compared with the num-
ber of points composing the victim's body.
The odds are as one against immensity.

Let us proceed still further. The sting
has reached the mark; the fat grub is de-
prived of movement. At what spots should
the egg now be laid? In front, behind, on
the sides, the back or the belly? The choice
is not a matter of indifference. The young
grub will pierce the skin of its provender at
the very spot on which the egg was fixed;
and, once an opening is made, it will go
ahead without hesitation. If this point of
attack is ill-chosen, the nurseling runs the
risk of presently finding under its mandibles
ii8

The Problem of the Scoliae

some essential organ, which should have been
respected until the end in order to keep the
victuals fresh. Remember how difficult it
is to complete the rearing when the tiny
larva is moved from the place chosen by the
mother. The game promptly becomes pu-
trid and the Scolia dies.

It is impossible for me to state the precise
motives which lead to the adoption of the
spot on which the egg is laid; I can perceive
general reasons, but the details escape me,
as I am not well enough versed in the more
delicate questions of anatomy and entomo-
logical physiology. What I do know with
absolute certainty is that the same spot is
invariably chosen for laying the egg. With
not a single exception, on all the victims ex-
tracted from the heap of garden mould —
and they are numerous — the egg is fixed
behind the ventral surface, on the verge of
the brown patch formed by the contents of
the digestive system.

If there be nothing to guide her, what
chance has the mother of gluing her egg to
this point, which is always the same because
it is that most favourable to successful rear-
ing? A very small point, represented by the
ratio of two or three square millimetres ^

1 About Vioo square inch. — Translator's Note.
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More Hunting Wasps

to the entire surface of the victim's body.

Is this all? Not yet. The grub is
hatched; it pierces the belly of the Cetonia-
larva at the requisite point; it plunges its
long neck into the entrails, ransacking them
and filling itself to repletion. If it bite at
random, if it have no other guide in the
selection of tit-bits than the preference of the
moment and the violence of an imperious
appetite, it will infallibly incur the danger
of being poisoned by putrid food, for the
victim, if wounded in those organs which
preserve a remnant of life in it, will die for
good and all at the first mouthfuls.

The ample joint must be consumed with
prudent skill : this part must be eaten before
that and, after that, some other portion,
always according to method, until the time
approaches for the last bites. This marks
the end of life for the Cetonia, but it also
marks the end of the Scolia's feasting. If
the grub be a novice in the art of eating, if
no special instinct guide its mandibles in the
belly of the prey, what chance has it of com-
pleting its perilous meal? As much as a
starving Wolf would have of daintily dis-
secting his Sheep, when he tears at her glut-
tonously, rends her into shreds and gulps
them down.

120

The Problem of the Scoliae

These four conditions of success, with
chance so near to zero in each case, must all
be realized together, or the grub will never
be reared. The Scolia may have captured
a larva with close-packed nerve-centres, a
Cetonia-grub, for instance; but this will go
for nothing unless she direct her sting to-
wards the only vulnerable point. She may
know the whole secret of the art of stabbing
her victim, but this means nothing if she does
not know where to fasten her egg. The
suitable spot may be found, but all the fore-
going will be useless if the grub be not
versed in the method to be followed in de-
vouring its prey while keeping it alive. It
is all or nothing.

Who would venture to calculate the final
chance on which the future of the Scolia, or
of her precursor, is based, that complex
chance whose factors are four infinitely im-
probable occurrences, one might almost say
four impossibilities? And such a conjunc-
tion is supposed to be a fortuitous result, to
which the present instinct is due! Come,
come!

From another point of view again, the
Darwinian theory is at variance with the
Scoliae and their prey. In the heap of gar-
den mould which I exploited in order to write

121

More Hunting Wasps

this record, three kinds of larvae dwell to-
gether, belonging to the Scarabaeid group:
the Cetonia, the Oryctes and Scarab^eus
pentodon. Their internal structure is very
nearly similar; their food is the same, con-
sisting of decomposing vegetable matter;
their habits are identical: they live under-
ground in tunnels which are frequently re-
newed ; they make a rough egg-shaped cocoon
of earthy materials. Environment, diet. In-
dustry and internal structure are all similar;
and yet one of these three larvae, the Ce-
tonia's, reveals a most singular dissimilarity
from its fellow-trenchermen: alone among
the Scarabaeidae and, more than that, alone
in all the immense order of insects, it walks
upon its back.

If the differences were a matter of a few
petty structural details, falling within the
finical department of the classifier, we might
pass them over without hesitation; but a
creature that turns itself upside down in
order to walk with its belly in the air and
never adopts any other method of locomo-
tion, though it possesses legs and good legs
at that, assuredly deserves examination.
How did the animal acquire its fantastic
mode of progress and why does it think fit

122

The Problem of the Scoliae

to walk In a fashion the exact contrary of
that adopted by other beasts?

To these questions the science now in
fashion always has a reply ready: adapta-
tion to environment. The Cetonia-larva
lives in crumbling galleries which it bores in
the depths of the soil. Like the sweep who
obtains a purchase with his back, loins and
knees to hoist himself up the narrow passage
of a chimney, it gathers itself up, applies the
tip of its belly to one wall of its gallery
and its sturdy back to another; and the com-
bined effort of these two levers results in
moving it forward. The legs, which are
used very little, indeed hardly at all, waste
away and tend to disappear, as does any or-
gan which is left unemployed; the back, on
the other hand, the principal motive agent,
grows stronger, is furrowed with powerful
folds and bristles with grappling-hooks or
hairs; and gradually, by adaptation to its en-
vironment, the creature loses the art of walk-
ing, which it does not practise, and replaces
it by that of crawling on its back, a form of
progress better suited to underground cor-
ridors.

So far so good. But now tell me, if you
please, why the larvse of the Oryctes and the
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More Hunting Wasps

Scarabaeus, living in vegetable mould, the
larva of the Anoxia, dwelling in the sand,
and the larva of the Cockchafer in our cul-
tivated fields have not also acquired the
faculty of walking on their backs? In their
galleries they follow the chimney-sweep's
methods quite as cleverly as the Cetonia-
grub; to move forward they make valiant
use of their backs without yet having come
to ambling with their bellies in 'the air.
Can they have neglected to accommodate
themselves to the demands of their environ-
ment? If evolution and environment cause
the topsy-turvy progress of the one, I have
the right, if words have any meaning what-
ever, to demand as much of the others, since
their organization is so much alike and their
mode of life identical.

I have but little respect for theories which,
when confronted with two similar cases, are
unable to interpret the one without contra-
dicting the other. They make me laugh
when they become merely childish. For ex-
ample: why has the tiger a coat streaked
black and yellow? A matter of environ-
ment, replies one of our evolutionary mas-
ters. Ahibushed in bamboo thickets where
the golden radiance of the sun is intersected
by stripes of shadow cast by the foliage, the

124

The Problem of the Scoliae

animal, the better to conceal Itself, assumed
the colour of its environment. The rays of
the sun produced the tawny yellow of the
coat; the stripes of shadow added the black
bars.

And there you have it. Any one who re-
fuses to accept the explanation must be very
hard to please. I am one of these difficult
persons. If it were a dinner-table jest, made
over the walnuts and the wine, I would will-
ingly sing ditto; but alas and alack, it is
uttered without a smile, in a solemn and
magisterial manner, as the last word in sci-
ence I Toussenel,^ in his day, asked the
naturalists an insidious question. Why, he
enquired, have Ducks a little curly feather
on the rump? No one, so far as I know,
had an answer for the teasing cross-exam-
iner: evolution had not been invented then.
In our time the reason why would be forth-
coming in a moment, as lucid and as well-
founded as the reason why of the tiger's coat.

Enough of childish nonsense. The Ce-
tonia-grub walks on its back because it has
always done so. The environment does not
make the animal; it is the animal that is

1 Alphonse Toussenel (1803-1885), the author of a
number of learned and curious works on ornithology. —
Translator's Note.

125

More Hunting Wasps

made for the environment. To this simple
philosophy, which is quite antiquated nowa-
days, I will add another, which Socrates ex-
pressed in these words:

" What I know best is that I know no-
thing."

ia6

CHAPTER VI

THE TACHYTES

THE family of Wasps whose name I in-
scribe at the head of this chapter has
not hitherto, so far as I know, made much
noise in the world. Its annals are limited
to methodical classifications, which make
very poor reading. The happy nations,
men say, are those which have no history.
I accept this, but I also admit that it is pos-
sible to have a history without ceasing to be
happy. In the conviction that I shall not
disturb its prosperity, I will try to substitute
the living, moving insect for the insect im-
paled in a cork-bottomed box.

It has been adorned with a learned name,
derived from the Greek Taxuriy? tachytes,
meaning rapidity, suddenness, speed. The
creature's godfather, as we see, had a smat-
tering of Greek; its denomination is none the
less unfortunate: intended to instruct us by
means of a characteristic feature, the name
leads us astray. Why is speed mentioned
in this connection ? Why a label which pre-
127

More Hunting Wasps

pares the mind for an exceptional velocity
and announces a race of peerless coursers?
Nimble diggers of burrows and eager hunt-
ers the Tachytes are, to be sure, but they
are no better than a host of rivals. Not the
Sphex, nor the Ammophila, nor the Bembex,
nor many another would admit herself
beaten in either flying ar running. At the
nesting-season, all this tiny world of hunt-
resses is filled with astounding activity. The
quality of a speedy worker being common to
all, none can boast of it to the exclusion of
the rest.

Had I had a vote when the Tachytes was
christened, I should have suggested a short,
harmonious, well-sounding name, meaning
nothing else than the thing meant. What
better, for example, than the term Sphex?
The ear is satisfied and the mind is not cor-
rupted by a prejudice, a source of error to
the beginner. I have not nearly as much
liking for Ammophila, which represents as a
lover of the sands an animal whose esta-
blishments call for compact soil. In short, if
I had been forced, at all costs, to concoct a
barbarous appellation out of Latin or Greek
in order to recall the creature's leading char-
acteristic, I should have attempted to say, a
passionate lover of the Locust.
128

The Tachytes

Love of the Locust, in the broader sense
of the Orthopteron, an exclusive, intolerant
love, handed down from mother to daugh-
ter with a fidelity which the centuries fail to
impair, this, yes, this indeed depicts the
Tachytes with greater accuracy than a name
smacking of the race-course. The English-
man has his roast beef; the German his
sauerkraut; the Russian his caviare; the Ne-
apoHtan his macaroni; the Piedmontese his
polenta; the man of Carpentras his tian.
The Tachytes has her Locust. Her national
dish is also that of the Sphex, with whom I
boldly associate her. The methodical classi-
fier, who works in cemeteries and seems to
fly the living cities, keeps the two families
far removed from each other because of
considerations attaching to the nervures of
the wings and the joints of the palpi. At
the risk of passing for a heretic, I bring them
together at the suggestion of the menu-card.

To my own knowledge, my part of the
country possesses five species, one and all ad-
dicted to a diet of Orthoptera. Panzer's
Tachytes {T. Panzeri, VAN DER LIND),
girdled with red at the base of the abdomen,
must be pretty rare. I surprise her from
time to time working on the hard roadside
banks and the trodden edges of the foot-
129

More Hunting Wasps

paths. There, to a depth of an inch at most,
she digs her burrows, each isolated from the
rest. Her prey is an adult, medium-sized
Acridian,^ such as the White-banded Sphex
pursues. The captive of the one would not
be despised by the other. Gripped by the
antennae, according to the ritual of the Sphex,
the victim is trailed along on foot and laid
beside the nest, with the head pointing to-
wards the opening. The pit, prepared in
advance, is closed for the time being with a
tiny flagstone and some bits of gravel, in
order to avoid either the invasion of a
passer-by or obstruction by landslips during
the huntress' absence. A like precaution is
taken by the White-banded Sphex. Both ob-
serve the same diet and the same customs.

The Tachytes clears the entrance to the
home and goes in alone. She returns, puts
out her head and, seizing her prey by the
antennae, warehouses it by dragging back-
wards. I have repeated, at her expense,
the tricks which I used to play on the Sphex.^
While the Tachytes is underground, I move
the game away. The insect comes up again
and sees nothing at its door; it comes out

1 Locust or Grasshopper. — Translator's Note.

2 For the author's experiments with the Languedocian,
the Yellow-winged and the White-edged Sphex, cf. The
Hunting Wasps: chap. xi. — Translator's Note.

130

The Tachytes

and goes to fetch its Locust, whom it places
in position as before. This done, it goes
in again by itself. In its absence I once
more pull back the prey. Fresh emergence
of the Wasp, who puts things to rights and
persists in going down again, still by herself,
however often 1 repeat the experiment. Yet
it would very easy for her to put an end to
my teasing: she would only have to descend
straightway with her game, instead of leav-
ing it for a moment on her doorstep. But,
faithful to the usages of her race, she be-
haves as her ancestors behaved before her,
even though the ancient custom happen to
be unprofitable. Like the Yellow-winged
Sphex, whom I have teased so often during
her cellaring-operations, she is a narrow con-
servative, learning nothing and forgetting
nothing.

Let us leave her to do her work in peace.
The Locust disappears underground and the
egg is laid upon the breast of the paralysed
insect. That is all: one carcase for each
cell, no more. The entrance is stopped at
last, first with stones, which will prevent the
trickling of the embankment into the cham-
ber; next with sweepings of dust, under
which every vestige of the subterranean
house disappears. It Is now done: the
131

More Hunting Wasps

Tachytes will come here no more. Other
burrows will occupy her, distributed at the
whim of her vagabond humour.

A cell provisioned before my eyes on the
22nd of August, in one of the walls in the
harmas,^ contained the finished cocoon a
week later. I have not noted many exam-
ples of so rapid a development. This co-
coon recalls, in its shape and texture, that of
the Bembex-wasps. It is hard and miner-
alized, this is to say, the warp and woof of
silk are hidden by a thick encrustation of
sand. This composite structure seems to
me characteristic of the family; at all events
I find it in the three species whose cocoons
I know. If the Tachytes are nearly related
to the Spheges in diet, they are far removed
from them in the industry of their larvae.
The first are workers in mosaic, encrusting
a network of silk and sand; the second weave
pure silk.

Of smaller size and clad in black with
trimmings of silvery down on the edge of
the abdominal segments, the Tarsal Tachy-
tes {T. tarsina, LEP.) ^ frequents the

^ The harmas was the piece of enclosed waste land in
which the author used to study his insects in their nat-
ural state. Cf. The Life of the Fly, by J. Henri Fabre,
translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chap. i. —
Translator's Note.

* According to M. J, Perez, to whom I submitted the
132

The Tachytes

ledges of soft limestone in fairly populous
coloniesi. August and September are the
season of her labours. Her burrows, very
close to one another when an easily-worked
vein presents itself, afford an ample harvest
of cocoons once the site is discovered. In a
certain gravel-pit in the neighbourhood, with
vertical walls visited by the sun, I have been
able within a short space of time to collect
enough to fill the hollow of my hand com-
pletely. They differ from the cocoons of
the preceding species only in their smaller
size. The provisions consist of young
Acridians, varying from about a quarter to
half an inch in length. The adult insect does
not appear in the assorted bags of game,
being no doubt too tough for the feeble
grub. All the carcases consist of Locust-
larvae, whose budding wings leave the back
uncovered and put one in mind of the short
skirts of a skimpy jacket. Small so that it
may be tender, the game is numerous so that
it may suffice all needs. I count from two

Wasp of which I am about to speak, this Tachytes might
well be a new species, if it is not Lepelletier's T. tarsina
or its equivalent. Panzer's T. unicolor. Any one wish-
ing to clear up this point will always recognize the
quarrelsome insect by its behaviour. A minute descrip-
tion seems useless to me in the type of investigation which
I am pursuing. — Author's Note.

133

More Hunting Wasps

to four carcases to a cell. When the time
comes we will discover the reason for these
differences in the rations served.

The Mantis-killing Tachytes ^ wears a red
scarf, like her kinswoman, Panzer's Tach-
ytes. I do not think that she is very
widely distributed. I made her acquaintance
in the Serignan woods, where she inhabits,
or rather used to inhabit — for I fear that
I have depopulated and even destroyed the
community by my repeated excavations —
where she used to inhabit one of those little
mounds of sand which the wind heaps up
against the rosemary clumps. Outside this
small community, I never saw her again.
Her history, rich in incident, will be given
with all the detail which it deserves. I will

1 The Mantis-hunting Tachytes was submitted to ex-
amination by M. J. Perez, who failed to recognize her.
This species may well be new to our fauna. I confine
myself to calling her the Mantis-killing Tachytes and
leave to the specialists the task of adorning her with a
Latin name, if it be really the fact that the Wasp is not
yet catalogued. I will be brief in my delineation. To
my thinking the best description is this: mantis-hunter.
With this information it is impossible to mistake the
insect, in my district of course. I may add that it is
black, with the first two abdominal segments, the legs
and the tarsi a rusty red. Clad in the same livery and
much smaller than the female, the male is remarkable for
his eyes, which are of a beautiful lemon-yellow when he
is alive. The length is nearly half ^n inch for the fe-
male and a little more than half this for the male. —
Author's Note.

134

The Tachytes

confine myself for the moment to mentioning
her rations, which consist of Mantis-larvae,
those of the Praying Mantis ^ predomina-
ting. My lists record from three to sixteen
heads for each cell. Once again we note a
great inequality of rations, the reason for
which we must try to discover.

What shall I say of the Black Tachytes
{T. nigra, VAN DER LIND) that I have
not already said in telling the story of the
Yellow-winged Sphex?^ I have there de-
scribed her contests with the Sphex, whose
burrow she seems to me to have usurped; I
show her dragging along the ruts in the
roads a paralysed Cricket, seized by the
hauHng-ropes, his antennae; I speak of her
hesitations, which lead me to suspect her for
a homeless vagabond, and finally on her sur-
render of her game, with which she seems
at once satisfied and embarrassed. Save for
the dispute with the Sphex, an unique event
In my records as observer, I have seen all
the rest, many a time, but never anything
more, f The Black Tachytes, though the
most frequent of all in my neighbourhood,
remains a riddle to me. I know nothing

^ Cf. The Life of the Grasshopper: chaps, vi. to Ix. —
Translator's Note.

2 The Hunting Wasps: chaps, iv. to vi. — Translator's
Note.

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of her dwelling, her larvae, her cocoons, her
family-arrangements. All that I can affirm,
judging by the invariable nature of the prey
which one sees her dragging along, is that
she must feed her larva? on the same non-
adult Cricket that the Yellow-winged Sphex
chooses for hers.

Is she a poacher, a pillager of other's
property, or a genuine huntress? My suspi-
cions are persistent, though I know how
chary a man should be of suspicions. At
one time I had my doubts about Panzer's
Tachytes, whom I grudged a prey to which
the White-banded Sphex might have laid
claim. To-day I have no such doubts: she
is an honest worker and her game is really
the result of her hunting. While waiting
for the truth to be revealed and my suspi-
cions set aside, I will complete the little that
I know of her by noting that the Black
Tachytes passes the winter in the adult form
and away from her cell. She hibernates,
like the Hairy Ammophila. In warm, shel-
tered places, with low, perpendicular, bare
banks, dear to the Wasps, I am certain of
finding her at any time during the winter,
however briefly I investigate the earthen
I surface, riddled with galleries. I find the
I Tachytes cowering singly in the hot oven
136

The Tachytes

formed by the end of a tunnel. If the tem-
perature be mild and the "sky clear, she
emerges from her retreat in January and
February and comes to the surface of the
bank to see whether spring is making pro-
gress. When the shadows fall and the heat
decreases, she reenters her winter-quarters.

The Anathema Tachytes (T. anathema,
VAN DER LIND), the giant of her race,
almost as large as the Languedocian Sphex
and, like her, decorated with a red scarf
round the base of the abdomen, is rarer than
any of her congeners. I have come upon
her only some four or five times, as an iso-
lated individual and always in circumstances
which will tell us of the nature of her game
with a probability that comes very near to
certainty. She hunts underground, like the
Scoliae. In September I see her go down
into the soil, which has been loosened by a
recent light shower; the movement of the
earth turned over keeps me informed of her
subterranean progress. She is like the
Mole, ploughing through a meadow in pur-
suit of his White Worm. She comes out
farther on, nearly a yard from the spot at
which she went in. This long journey un-
derground has taken her only a few minutes.

Is this due to extraordinary powers of
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More Hunting Wasps

excavation on her part? By no means: the
Anathema Tachytes is an energetic tunneller,
no doubt, but, after all, is incapable of per-
forming so great a labour in so short a time.
If the underground worker is so swift in her
progress, it is because the track followed has
already been covered by another. The trail
is ready prepared. We will describe it, for
it is clearly defined before the intervention
of the Wasp.

On the surface of the ground, for a length
of two paces at most, runs a sinuous line, a
beading of crumbled soil, roughly the width
of my finger. From this line of ramifications
shoot out to left and right, much shorter
and irregularly distributed. One need not
be a great entomological scholar to recog-
nize, at the first glance, in these pads of
raised earth, the trail of a Mole-cricket, the
Mole among insects. It is the Mole-cricket
who, seeking for a root to suit her, has ex-
cavated the winding tunnel, with investiga-
tion-galleries grafted to either side of the
main road. The passage is free therefore,
or at most blocked by a few landslips, of
which the Tachytes will easily dispose. This
explains her rapid journey underground.

But what does she do there? For she is
always there, in the few observations which
138

The Tachytes

chance affords me. A subterranean excur-
sion would not attract the Wasp if it had no
object. And its object is certainly the
search for some sort of game for her larvae.
The inference becomes inevitable: the Ana-
thema Tachytes, who explores the Mole-
cricket's galleries, gives her larvae this same
Mole-cricket as their food. Very probably
the specimen selected is a young one, for the
adult insect would be too big. Besides, to
this consideration of quantity is added that
of quality. Young and tender flesh is highly
appreciated, as witness the Tarsal Tachytes,
the Black Tachytes and the Mantis-killing
Tachytes, who all three select game that is
not yet made tough by age. ' It goes without
saying that the moment the Iiuntress emerged
from the ground I proceeded to dig up the
track. The Mole-cricket was no longer
there. The Tachytes had come too late;
and so had I.

Well, how right was I to define the Tach-
ytes as a Locust lover! What constancy
in the gastronomic rules of the race! And
what tact in varying the game, while keeping
within the order of the Orthoptera ! What
have the Locust, the Cricket, the Praying
Mantis and the Mole-cricket in common, as
regards their general appearance? Why,
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absolutely nothing! None of us, if he
were unfamiliar with the delicate associations
dictated by anatomy, would think of classing
them together. The Tachytes, on the other
hand, makes no mistake. Guided by her in-
stinct, which rivals the science of a Latreille,^
she groups them all together.

This instinctive taxonomy becomes more
surprising still if we consider the variety of
the game stored in a single burrow. The
Mantis-killing Tachytes, for instance, preys
indiscriminately upon all the Mantides that
occur in her neighbourhood. I see her ware-
housing three of them, the only varieties, in
fact, that I know in my district. They are
the following: the Praying Mantis (M. re-
ligiosa, LIN.), the Grey Mantis^ {Ameles
decolor, CHARP.) and the Empusa » {E.
pauperata, LATR.). The numerical pre-
dominance in the Tachytes' cells belongs to
the Praying Mantis; and the Grey Mantis
occupies second place. The Empusa, who
is comparatively rare on the brushwood in
the neighbourhood, is also rare in the store-

1 Pierre Andre Latreille (1762-1833), one of the found-
ers of entomolopical science, a professor at the Musee
d'histoire naturelle and member of the Academie des
sciences. — Translator's Note.

2 Cf. The Life of the Grasshopper : chap, x.— Trans-
lator's Note.

3 Cf . idem : chap. ix. — Translator's Note.

140

The Tachytes

houses of the Wasp; nevertheless her pre-
sence is repeated often enough to show that
the huntress appreciates the value of this
prey when she comes across it. The three
sorts of game are in the larval state, with
rudimentary wings. Their dimensions,
which vary a good deal, fluctuate between
two-'fifths and four-fifths of an inch in
length.

The Praying Mantis is a bright green;
she boasts an elongated prothorax and an
alert gait. The other Mantis is ash-grey.
Her prothorax is short and her movements
heavy. The coloration therefore is no guide
to the huntress, any more than the gait.
The green and the grey, the swift and the
slow are unable to baffle her perspicacity.
To her, despite the great difference in ap-
pearance, the two victims are Mantes. And
she is right.

But what are we to say of the Empusa?
The insect world, at all events in our parts,
contains no more fantastic creature. The
children here, who are remarkable for find-
ing names which really depict the animal,
call the larva " the Devilkin." It is indeed
a spectre, a diabolical phantom worthy of
the pencil of a Callot.^ There is nothing

^Jacques Callot (1592-1635), the French engraver and
141

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to beat it in the extravagant medley of fi-
gures in his Temptation of Saint Anthony.
Its flat abdomen, scalloped at the edges,
rises into a twisted crook; its peaked head
carries on the top two large, divergent, tusk-
shaped horns; its sharp, pointed face, which
can turn and look to either side, would fit
the wily purpose of some Mephistopheles;
its long legs have cleaver-like appendages at
the joints, similar to the arm-pieces which
the knights of old used to bear upon their
elbows. Perched high upon the shanks of
its four hind-legs, with its abdomen curled,
its thorax raised erect, its fore-legs, the traps
and implements of warfare, folded against
its chest, it sways limply from side to side,
on the tip of a bough.

Any one seeing it for the first time in its
grotesque pose will give a start of surprise.
The Tachytes knows no such alarm. If she
catches sight of it, she seizes it by the neck
and stabs it. It will be a treat for her child-
ren. How does she manage to recognize
in this spectre the near relation of the Pray-
ing Mantis? When frequent hunting-expe-
ditions have familiarized her with the last-
named and suddenly, in the midst of the

painter, famous for the grotesque nature of his subjects. —
Translator's Note.

142

The Tachytes

chase, she encounters the Devilkin, how does
she become aware that this strange find
makes yet another excellent addition to her
larder? This question, I fear, will never
receive an adequate reply. Other huntresses
have already set us the problem; others will
set it to us again. I shall return to it, not
to solve it, but to show even more plainly
how obscure and profound it is. But we
will first complete the story of the Mantis-
killing Tachytes.

The colony which forms the subject of
my investigations is established in a mound
of fine sand which I myself cut into, a couple
of years ago, in order to unearth a few
Bembex larvae. The entrances to the Tach-
ytes' dwelling open upon the little upright
bank of the section. At the beginning of
July the work is in full swing. It must have
been going on already for a week or two,
for I find very forward larvae, as well as
recent cocoons. There are here, digging
into the sand or returning from expeditions
with their booty, some hundred females,
whose burrows, all very close to one an-
other, cover an area of barely a square yard.
This hamlet, small in extent, but neverthe-
less densely populated, shows us the Mantis-
slayer under a moral aspect which is not
143

More Hunting Wasps

shared by. the Locust slayer, Panzer's Tach-
ytes, who, resembles her so closely in cos-
tume. Though engaged in individual tasks,
the first seeks the society of her kind, as do
certain of the Sphex-wasps, while the second
establishes herself in solitude, after the
fashion of the Ammophila. Neither the
personal form nor the nature of the occupa-
tion determines sociability.

Crouching voluptuously in the sun, on the
sand at the foot of the bank, the males lie
waiting for the females, to plague them as
they pass. They are ardent lovers, but cut
a poor figure. Their linear dimensions are
barely half those of the other sex, which im-
plies a volume only one-eighth as great. At
a short distance they appear to wear on their
heads a sort of gaudy turban. At close
quarters this headgear is seen to consist of
the eyes, which are very large and a bright
lemon-yellow and which almost entirely sur-
round the head.

At ten o'clock in the mjorning, when the
heat begins to grow intolerable to the ob-
server, there is a continual coming and going
between the burrows and the tufts of grass,
everlasting, thyme and wormwood, which
constitute the Tachytes' hunting-grounds
within a moderate radius. The journey is so
144

The Tachytes

short that the Wasp brings her game home
on the wing, usually in a single flight. She
holds it by the fore-part, a very judicious
precaution, which is favourable to rapid
stowage in the warehouse, for then the
Mantis' legs stretch backwards, along the
axis of the body, instead of folding and pro-
jecting sideways, when their resistance would
be difficult to overcome in a narrow gallery.
The lanky prey dangles beneath the huntress,
all limp, lifeless and paralysed. The Tach-
ytes, still flyng, alights on the threshold
of the home and immediately, contrary to
the custom of Panzer's Tachytes, enters with
her prey trailing behind her. It is not un-
usual for a male to come upon the scene at
the moment of the mother's arrival. He is
promptly snubbed. This is the time for
work, not for amusement. The rebuffed
male resumes his post as a watcher in the
sun ; and the housewife stows her provisions.
But she does not always do so without
hindrance. Let me recount one of the mis-
adventures of this work of storage. There
is in the neighbourhood of the burrows a
plant which catches insects with glue. It is
the Oporto silene {S. portensis), a curious
growth, a lover of the sea-side dunes, which,
though of Portuguese origin, as its name
145

More Hunting Wasps

would seem to Indicate, ventures inland,
even as far as my part of the country, where
it represents perhaps a survivor of the
coastal flora of what was once a Pliocene
sea. The sea has disappeared; a few plants
of its shores have remained behind.
This Silene carries in most of its internodes,
in those both of the branches and of the
main stalk, a viscous ring, two- to four-fifths
of an inch wide, sharply delimited above
and below. The coating of glue is of a
pale brown. Its stickiness is so great that
the least touch is enough to hold the object.
I find Midges, Plant-lice and Ants caught in
it, as well as tufted seeds which have blown
from the capitula of the Cichoriaceae. A
Gad-fly, as big as a Bluebottle, falls into the
trap before my eyes. She has barely
alighted on the perilous perch when lo, she
is held by the hinder tarsi ! The Fly makes
violent efforts to take wing; she shakes the
slender plant from top to bottom. If she
frees her hinder tarsi she remains snared by
the front tarsi and has to begin all over
again. I was doubting the possibility of her
escape when, after a good quarter of an
hour's struggle, she succeeded in extricating
herself.

But, where the Gad-fly has got off, the
146

The Tachytes

Midge remains. The winged Aphis also re-
mains, the Ant, the Mosquito and many an-
other of the smaller insects. What does the
plant do with its captures? Of what use
are these trophies of corpses hanging by a
leg or a wing? Does the vegetable bird-
limer, with its sticky rings, derive advantage
from these death-struggles? A Darwinian,
remembering the carnivorous plants, would
say yes. As for me, I don't believe a word
of it. The Oporto silene is ringed with
bands of gum. Why? I don't know. In-
sects are caught in these snares. Of what
use are they to the plant? Why, none at
all; and that's all about it. I leave to
others, bolder than myself, the fantastic idea
of taking these annular exudations for a di-
gestive fluid which will reduce the captured
Midges to soup and make them serve to
feed the Silene. Only I warn them that the
insects sticking to the plant do not dissolve
into broth, but shrivel, quite uselessly, in the
sun.

Let us return to the Tachytes, who is also
a victim of the vegetable snare. With a
sudden flight, a huntress arrives, carrying her
drooping prey. She grazes the Silene's lime-
twigs too closely. Behold the Mantis caught
by the abdomen. For twenty minutes at
147

More Hunting Wasps

least the Wasp, still on the wing, tugs at her,
tugging again and again, to overcome the
cause of the hitch and release the spoil.
The hauling-method, a continuation of the
flight, comes to nothing; and no other is at-
tempted. At last the insect wearies and
leaves the Mantis hanging to the Silene.

Now or never was the moment for the
intervention of that tiny glimmer of reason
which Darwin so generously grants to ani-
mals. Do not, if you please, confound rea-
son with intelligence, as people are too prone
to do. I deny the one; and the other is in-
contestable, within very modest limits. It
was, I said, the moment to reason a little,
to discover the cause of the hitch and to at-
tack the difficulty at its source. For the
Tachytes the matter was of the simplest.
She had but to grab the body by the skin
of the abdomen immediately above the spot
caught by the glue and to pull it towards her,
instead of persevering in her flight without
releasing the neck. Simple though this me-
chanical problem was, the insect was unable
to solve it, because she was not able to trace
the effect back to the cause, because she did
not even suspect that the stoppage had a
cause.

Ants doting on sugar and accustomed to
14S

The Tachytes

cross a foot-bridge in order to reach the
warehouse are absolutely prevented from
doing so when the bridge is interrupted by a
slight gap. They would only need a few
grains of sand to fill the void and restore
the causeway. They do not for a moment
dream of it, plucky navvies though they be,
capable of raising miniature mountains of
excavated soil. We can get them to give
us an enormous cone of earth, an instinctive
piece of work, but we shall never obtain the
juxtaposition of three grains of sand, a rea-
soned piece of work. The Ant does not
reason, any more than the Tachytes.

If you bring up a tame Fox and set his
platter of food before him, this creature of
a thousand tricks confines himself to tugging
with all his might at the leash which keeps
him a step or two from his dinner. He pulls
as the Tachytes pulls, exhausts himself in
futile efforts and then Hes down, with his
little eyes leering fixedly at the dish. Why
does he not turn round? This would in-
crease his radius; and he could reach then
the food with his hind-foot and pull it to-
wards him. The idea never occurs to him.
Yet another animal deprived of reason.

Friend Bull, my Dog, is no better-en-
dowed, despite his quality as a candidate for
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More Hunting Wasps

humanity. In our excursions through the
woods, he happens to get caught by the paw
in a wire snare set for rabbits. Like the
Tachytes, he tugs at it obstinately and only
pulls the noose tighter. I have to release
him when he does not himself succeed in
snapping the wire by his hard pulling.
When he tries to leave the room, if the two
leaves of the door are just ajar, he contents
himself with pushing his muzzle, like a
wedge, into the too narrow aperture. He
moves forward, pushing in the direction
which he wishes to take. His simple, dog-
like method has one unfailing result: the
two leaves of the door, when pushed, merely
shut still closer. It would be easy for him
to pull one of them towards him with his
paw, which would make the passage wider;
but this would be a movement backward,
contrary to his natural impulse; and so he
does not think of it. Yet another creature
that does not reason.

The Tachytes, who stubbornly persists In
tugging at her limed Mantis and refuses
to acknowledge any other method of wrest-
ing her from the Silene's snare, shows us
the Wasp in an unflattering light. What
a very poor intellect ! The insect becomes
only the more wonderful, therefore, when we
150

The Tachytes

consider its supreme .talent as an anatomist.
Many a time I have insisted upon the incom-
prehensible wisdom of instinct; I do so again
at the risk of repeating myself. An idea
is like a nail: it is not to be driven in save
by repeated blows. By hitting It again and
again, I hope to make it enter the most re-
bellious brains. This time I shall attack
the problem from the other end, that is, I
shall first allow human knowledge to have
its say and shall then Interrogate the insect's
knowledge.

The outward structure of the Praying
Mantis would of itself be enough to teach
us the arrangement of the nerve-centres
which the Tachytes has to injure in order to
paralyse its victim, which is destined to be
devoured alive but harmless. A narrow and
very long prothorax divides the front pair
of legs from the two hinder pairs. There
must therefore be an isolated ganglion in
front and two ganglia, close to each other,
about two-fifths of an inch back. Dissec-
tion confirms this forecast completely. It
shows us three fairly bulky thoracic ganglia,
arranged in the same manner as the legs.
The first which actuates the fore-legs, is
placed opposite their roots. It is the largest
of the three. It is also the most important,

More Hunting Wasps

for it presides over the insect's weapons,
over the two powerful arms, toothed like
saws and ending in harpoons. The other
two, divided from the first by the whole
length of the prothorax, each face the origin
of the corresponding legs; consequently they
are very near each other. Beyond them are
the abdominal ganglia, which I pass over in
silence, as the operating insect does not have
to trouble about them. The movements of
the belly are mere pulsations and are in no
way dangerous.

Now let us do a little reasoning on behalf
of our non-reasoning insect. The sacrificer
is weak; the victim is comparatively power-
ful. Three strokes of the lancet must
abolish all offensive movement. Where will
the first stroke be delivered? In front is a
real engine of warfare, a pair of powerful
shears with toothed jaws. Let the fore-arm
close upon the upper arm; and the impru-
dent insect, crushed between the two saw-
blades, will be torn to pieces; wounded by
the terminal hook, it will be eviscerated.
This ferocious mechanism is the great dan-
ger; it is this that must be mastered at the
outset, at the risk of life; the rest is less
urgent. The first blow of the stylet, cau-
tiously directed, is therefore aimed at the
152

The Tachytes

lethal fore-legs, which imperil the vivisec-
tor's own existence. Above all, there must
be no hesitation. The blow must be ac-
curate then and there, or the sacrificer will
be caught in the vice and perish. The two
other pairs of legs present no danger to the
operator, who might neglect them if she had
only her own security to think of; but the
surgeon is operating with a view to the egg,
which demands complete immobility in the
provisions. Their centres of innervation
will therefore be stabbed as well, with the
leisure which the Mantis, now put out of
action, permits. These legs, as well as their
nervous centres, are situated very far behind
the first point attacked. There is a long
neutral interval, that of the prothorax, into
which it is quite useless to drive the sting.
This interval has to be crossed; by a back-
ward movement conforming with the secrets
of the victim's internal anatomy, the second
ganglion must be reached and then its neigh-
bour, the third. In short, the surgical op-
eration may be formulated thus : a first stab
of the lancet in front; a considerable move-
ment to the rear, measuring about two-fifths
of an inch; lastly, two lancet-thrusts at two
points very close together. Thus speaks the
science of man; thus counsels reason, guided
IS3

More Hunting Wasps

by anatomical structure. Having said this
much let us observe the insect's practice.

There is no difficulty about seeing the
Tachytes operate in our presence; we have
only to resort to the method of substitution,
which has already done me so much service,
that is, to deprive the huntress of her prey
and at once to give her, in exchange, a living
Mantis of about the same size. This sub-
stitution is impracticable with the majority
of the Tachytes, who reach the threshold of
their dwelling in a single flight and at once
vanish underground with their game. A
few of them, from time to time, harassed
perhaps by their burden, chance to alight
at a short distance from their burrow, or
even drop their prey. I profit by these rare
occasions to witness the tragedy.

The dispossessed Wasp recognizes In-
stantly, from the proud bearing of the sub-
stituted Mantis, that she is no longer em-
bracing and carrying off an inoffensive car-
case. Her hovering, hitherto silent, de-
velops a buzz, perhaps to overawe the vic-
tim; her flight becomes an extremely rapid
oscillation, always behind the quarry. It Is
as who should say the quick movement of a
pendulum swinging without a wire to hang
from. The Mantis, however, lifts herself
154

The Tachytes

boldly upon her four hind-legs ; she raises the
fore-part of her body, opens, closes and
again opens her shears and presents them
threateningly at the enemy; using a privilege
which no other insect shares, she turns her
head this way and that, as we do when we
look over our shoulders; she faces her as-
sailant, ready to strike a return blow where-
soever the attack may come. It is the first
time that I have witnessed such defensive
daring. What will be the outcome of it all?
The Wasp continues to oscillate behind
the Mantis, in order to avoid the formidable
grappling-engine ; then, suddenly, when she
judges that the other is baffled by the rapid-
ity of her manoeuvres, she hurls herself upon
the insect's back, seizes its neck with her
mandibles, winds her legs round its thorax
and hastily deHvers a first thrust of the
sting, to the front, at the root of the lethal
legs. Complete success ! The deadly shears
fall powerless. The operator then lets her-
self slip as she might slide down a pole,
retreats along the Mantis' back and, going a
trifle lower, less than a finger's breadth, she
stops and paralyses, this time without hurry-
ing herself, the two pairs of hind-legs. It is
done: the patient lies motionless; only the
tarsi quiver, twitching In their last convul-
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More Hunting Wasps

slons. The sacrificer brushes her wings for
a moment and polishes her antennae by pass-
ing them through her mouth, an habitual sign
of tranquillity returning after the emotions
of the conflict; she seizes the game by the
neck, takes it in her legs and flies away
with it.

What do you say to it all? Do not the
scientist's theory and the insect's practice
agree most admirably? Has not the ani-
mal accomplished to perfection what ana-
tomy and physiology enabled us to foretell?
Instinct, a gratuitous attribute, an uncon-
scious inspiration, rivals knowledge, that
most costly acquisition. What strikes me
most Is the sudden recoil after the first
thrust of the sting. The Hairy Ammophila,
operating on her caterpillar, likewise recoils,
but progressively, from one segment to the
next. Her deliberate surgery might receive
a quasl-explanation if we ascribe it to a cert-
ain uniformity. With the Tachytes and the
Mantis this paltry argument escapes us.
Here are no lancet-pricks regularly distri-
buted ; on the contrary, the operating-method
betrays a lack of symmetry which would be
inconceivable, if the organization of the pa-
tient did not serve as a guide. The
is6

The Tachytes

Tachytes therefore knows where her prey's
nerve-centres lie; or, to speak more cor-
rectly, she behaves as though she knew.

This science which is unconscious of itself
has not been acquired, by her and by her
race, through experiments perfected from
age to age and habits transmitted from one
generation to the next. It is impossible, I
am prepared to declare a hundred times, a
thousand times over, it is absolutely impos-
sible to experiment and to learn an art when
you are lost if you do not succeed at the first
attempt. Don't talk to me of atavism, of
small successes increasing by inheritance,
when the novice, if he misdirected his
weapon, would be crushed in the trap of the
two saws and fall a prey to the savage Man-
tis! The peaceable Locust, if missed, pro-
tests against the attack with a few kicks; the
carnivorous Mantis, who is in the habit of
feasting on Wasps far more powerful than
the Tachytes, would protest by eating the
bungler; the game would devour the hunter,
an excellent catch. Mantis-paralysing is a
most perilous trade and admits of no half-
successes; you have to excel in it from the
first, under pain of death. No, the surgical
art of the Tachytes is not an acquired art.
157

More Hunting Wasps

Whence then does it come, if not from the
universal knowledge in which all things move
and have their being!

What would happen if, in exchange for
her Praying Mantis, I were to give the
Tachytes a young Grasshopper? In rearing
insects at home, I have already noted that
the larvae put up very well with this diet;
and I am surprised that the mother does not
follow the example of the Tarsal Tachytes
and provide her family with a skewerful of
Locusts instead of the risky prey which she
selects. The diet would be practically the
same; and the terrible shears would no longer
be a danger. With such a patient would
her operating-method remain the same;
should we again see a sudden recoil after the
first stab under the neck; or would the vivi-
sector modify her art in conformity with the
unfamiliar nervous organization?

This second alternative is highly impro-
bable. It would be nonsense to expect to see
the paralyser vary the number and the dis-
tribution of the wounds according to the
genus of the victim. Supremely skilled in
the task that has fallen to its lot, the insect
knows nothing further.

The first alternative seems to offer a cert-
ain chance and deserves a test. I offer the
158

The Tachytes

Tachytes, deprived of her Mantis, a small
Grasshopper, whose hind-legs I amputate
to prevent his leaping. The disabled Acri-
dian jogs along the sand. The Wasp flies
round him for a moment, casts a contemptu-
ous glance upon the cripple and withdraws
without attempting action. Let the prey of-
fered be large or small, green or grey, short
or long, rather like the Mantis or quite dif-
ferent, all my efforts miscarry. The
Tachytes recognizes in an instant that this
is no business of hers; this is not her family
game; she goes off without even honouring
my Grasshoppers with a peck of her mandi-
bles.

This stubborn refusal is not due to gas-
tronomical causes. I have stated that the
larvae reared by my own hands feed on
young Grasshoppers as readily as on young
Mantes; they do not seem to perceive any
difference between the two dishes; they
thrive equally on the game chosen by me and
that selected by the mother. If the mother
sets no value on the Grasshopper, what then
can be the reason of her refusal? I can see
only one : this quarry, which is not hers, per-
haps inspires her with fear, as any unknown
thing might do; the ferocious Mantis does
not alarm her, but the peaceable Grasshop-

IS9

More Hunting Wasps

per terrifies her. And then, if she were to
overcome her apprehensions, she does not
know how to master the Acridian and, above
all, how to operate upon him. To every
man his trade, to every Wasp her own way
of wielding her sting. Modify the condi-
tions ever so slightly; and these skilful
paralysers are at an utter loss.

To every insect also its own art of fash-
ioning the cocoon, an art which varies
greatly, an art in which the larva displays
all the resources of its instincts. The
Tachytes, the Bembeces, the Stizi, the Pa-
lari and other burrowers build composite
cocoons, hard as fruit-stones, formed of an
incrustation of sand in a net work of silk.
We are already acquainted with the work
of the Bembex. I will recall the fact that
their larva first weaves a conical, horizontal
bag of pure white silk, with wide meshes,
held in place by interlaced threads which fix
it to the walls of the cell. I have compared
this bag, because of its shape, with a fish-
trap. Without leaving this hammock,
stretching its neck through the orifice, the
worker gathers from without a little heap of
sand, which it stores inside its workshop.
Then, selecting the grains one by one, it en-
crusts them all around itself in the fabric
i6o

The Tachytes

of the bag and cements them with the fluid
from its spinnerets, which hardens at once.
When this task is finished, the house has
still to be closed, for it has been wide open
all this time to permit of the renewal of the
store of sand as the heap inside becomes
exhausted. For this purpose a cap of silk
Is woven across the opening and finally en-
crusted with the materials which the larva
has retained at its disposal.

The Tachytes builds in quite another fash-
Ion, although its work, once finished, does
not differ from that of the Bembex. The
larva surrounds itself, to begin with, about
the middle of its body with a silken girdle
which a number of threads, very irregularly
distributed, hold in place and connect with
the walls of the cell. Sand is collected,
within reach of the worker, on this general
scaffolding. Then begins the work of minor
masonry, with grains of sand for rubble and
the secretion of the spinnerets for cement.
The first course is laid upon the fore-edge of
the suspensory ring. When the circle Is
completed, a second course of grains of sand,
stuck together by the fluid silk, is raised upon
the hardened edge of what has just been
done. Thus the work proceeds, by ring-
shaped courses, laid edge to edge, until the
i6i

More Hunting Wasps

cocoon, having acquired half of Its proper
length, is rounded Into a cap and finally
is closed. The building-methods of the
Tachytes-larva remind me of a mason con-
structing a round chimney, a narrow tower
of which he occupies the centre. Turning
on his own axis and using the materials
placed to his hand, he encloses himself little
by Httle In his sheath of masonry. In the
same way the worker encloses Itself In Its
mosaic. To build the second half of the
cocoon, the larva turns round and builds In
the same way on the other edge of the orig-
inal ring. In about thirty-six hours the
solid shell Is completed.

I am rather interested to see the Bembex
and the Tachytes, two workers in the same
guild, employ such different methods to
achieve the same result. The first begins
by weaving an eel-trap of pure silk and next
encrusts the grains of sand inside; the sec-
ond, a bolder architect, is economical of the
silk envelope, confines itself to a hanging
girdle and builds course by course. The
building-materials are the same: sand and
silk; the surroundings amid which the two
artisans work are the same: a cell in a soil
of sandy gravel; yet each of the builders
162

The Tachytes

possesses its individual art, its own plan,
its one method.

The nature of the food has no more effect
upon the larva's talents than the environ-
ment in which it lives or the materials em-
ployed. The proof of this is furnished by
Stiza ruficornis, another builder of cocoons
in grains of sand cemented with silk.
This sturdy Wasp digs her burrows in soft
sandstone. Like the Mantis-killing Tach-
ytes, she hunts the various Mantides of the
countryside, consisting mainly of the Praying
Mantis; only her large size requires them
to be more fully developed, without however
having attained the form and the dimensions
of the adult. She places three to five of
them in each cell.

In solidity and volume her cocoon rivals
that of the largest Bembex; but it differs
from it, at first sight, by a singular feature
of which I know no other example. From
the side of the shell, which is uniformly
smoothed on every side, a rough knob pro-
trudes, a little clod of sand stuck on to the
rest. The work of Stizus ruficornis can at
once be recognized, among all the other co-
coons of a similar nature, by this protuber-
ance.

163

More Hunting Wasps

Its origin will be explained by the method
which the larva follows in constructing its
strong-box. At the beginning, a conical bag
is woven of pure white silk; you might take
it for the initial eel-trap of the Bembeces,
only this bag has two openings, a very wide
one in front and another, very narrow one
at the side. Through the front opening
the Stizus provides itself with sand as and
when it spends this material on encrusting
the interior. This strengthens the cocoon;
and the cap which closes it is made next.
So far it is exactly hke the work of the Bem-
bex. We now have the worker enclosed,
engaged in perfecting the inner wall. For
these final touches a little more sand is
needed. It obtains it from outside by means
of the aperture which it has taken the pre-
caution of contriving in the side of its build-
ing, a narrow dormer-window just large
enough to allow its slender neck to pass.
When the store has been taken in, this ac-
cessory orifice, which is used only during the
last few moments, is closed with a mouthful
of mortar, thrust outward from within.
This forms the irregular nipple which pro-
jects from the side of the shell.

For the present I shall not expatiate fur-
ther upon Stizus ruficornis, whose complete
164

The Tachytes

biography would be out of place in this chap-
ter. I will limit myself to mentioning its
method of constructing strong-boxes in or-
der to compare it with that of the Bembex
and above all with that of the Tachytes, a
consumer, like itself, of Praying Mantes.
From this parallel it seems to me to follow
that the conditions of life in which men see
to-day the origin of instincts — the type of
food, the surroundings amid which the
larval life is passed, the materials available
for a defensive wrapper and other factors
which the evolutionists are accustomed to
invoke — have no actual influence upon the
larva's industry. My three architects in
glued sand, even when all the conditions,
down to the nature of the provisions, are
the same, adopt different means to execute
an identical task. They are engineers who
have not graduated from the same school,
who have not been educated on the
same principles, though the lesson of things
is almost the same for all of them.
The workshop, the work, the provisions have
not determined the instinct. The instinct
comes first; it lays down laws instead of be-
ing subject to them.

165

CHAPTER VII

CHANGE OF DIET

BRILLAT^SAVARIN, when pronounc-
ing his famous maxim, " Tell me what
you eat and I will tell you what you are," cer-
tainly never suspected the signal confirmation
which the entomological world would be-
stow upon his saying. Our gastrosopher
was speaking only of the culinary caprices
of man rendered fastidious by the sweets
of life; but he might, in a more serious de-
partment of thought, have given his formula
a wider and more general bearing and ap-
plied it to the dishes which vary so greatly
according to latitude, climate and customs;
he might above all have taken into his reck-
oning the harsh realities suffered by the com-
mon people, when perhaps his ideal of moral
worth would have been found in a platter of
chick-peas oftener than in a pot of pate de
foie gras. No matter: his aphorism, the
mere whimsical sally of an epicure, becomes
an imperious truth if we forget the luxury
of the table and look into what is eaten by
i66

Change of Diet

the little world which swarms around us.

To each its mess. The cabbage Pieris
consumes the pungent leaves of the Cruciferae
as the food of her infancy; the Silkworm
disdains any foliage other than that of the
mulberry-tree. The Spurge Hawk-moth re-
quires the caustic milk-sap of the tithymals:
the Corn-weevil the grain of wheat ; the Pea-
weevil, the seeds of the leguminosae; the
Balaninus ^ the hazel-nut, the chestnut, the
acorn ; the Brachycera ^ the clove of garlic.
Each has its diet, each its plant; and each
plant has its customary guests. Their rela-
tions are so precise that in many cases one
might determine the insect by the vegetable
which supports it, or the vegetable by the
Insect.

If you know the lily, you may name as a
Crioceris^ the tiny scarlet Scarabaeid that
inhabits it and peoples its leaves with larvae
which keep themselves cool beneath an over-
coat of ordure. If you know the Crioceris,
you may name as a lily the plant which she
devastates. It will not perhaps be the com-

1 A genus of Beetles including the Acorn-weevil, the
Nut-weevil and others. — Translator's Note.

2 A division of Flies including the Gad-flies and Rob-
ber-flies.— Translator's Note.

* For the Lily-beetle, or Crioceris merdigera, cf. The
Gloiv-iuorm and Other Beetles, by J. Henri Fabre, trans-
lated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chaps, xvi. and
xvii. — Translator's Note.

167

More Hunting Wasps

mon or white lily, but some other representa-
tive of the same family — Turk's cap lily,
orange lily, scarlet Martagon, lancifoliate
lily, tiger-spotted lily, golden lily — hailing
from the Alps or the Pyrenees, or brought
from China or Japan. Relying on the
Crioceris, who is an expert judge of exotic
as well as of native Liliaceae, you may name
as a lily the plant with which you are un-
acquainted and trust the word of this singu-
lar botanical master. Whether the flower
be red, yellow, ruddy-brown or sown with
crimson spots, characteristics so unlike the
immaculate whiteness of the familiar flower,
do not hesitate, adopt the name dictated by
the Beetle. Where man is liable to mistake
the insect is never mistaken.

This insect botany, a cause of such grie-
vous tribulations, has always impressed the
worker in the fields, who, for all that, is a
very indifferent observer. The man who was
the first to see his cabbage-plot devastated
by caterpillars made the acquaintance of the
Pieris. Science completed the process, in its
desire to serve a useful purpose or merely
to seek truth for truth's sake; and to-day
the relations between the insect and the plant
form a collection of records as important
from the philosophical as from the practical,
i68

Change of Diet

agricultural point of view. What is much
less familiar to us, because it touches us less
nearly, is the zoology of the insect, that is to
say, the selection which it makes, to feed
its larva, of this or that animal species, to
the exclusion of others. The subject is so
vast that a volume were not sufficient to ex-
haust it; besides, data are lacking in the vast
majority of cases. It is reserved for a still
very distant future to raise this point of
biology to the level already reached by the
question of vegetable diet. It will be enough
if I contribute a few observations scattered
through my writings or my notes.

What does the Wasp addicted to a preda-
tory life eat, of course in the larval state?
Now, to begin with, we see natural sections
which adopt as their prey different species
of one and the same order, in one and the
same group. Thus the Ammophilae hunt
exclusively the larvae of the night-flying
Moths. This taste is shared by the Eu-
menes,^ a very different genus. The Spheges
and Tachytes are addicted to Orthoptera;
the Cerceres, apart from a few exceptions,
are faithful to the Weevil; both the Phi-

1 Cf. The Mason-iuasps, by J. Henri Fabre, translated
by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chap. i. — Translator's
Note.

169

More Hunting Wasps

lanthi and the Palari capture only Hymen-
optera; the Pompili specialize in hunting
the Spider; the Astata revels in the flavour
of Bugs; the Bembeces want Flies and no-
thing else; the Scoliae enjoy the monopoly of
the Lamellicorn-grubs ; the Pelopaei favour
the young Epeirae/ the Stizi vary in opin-
ion: of the two in my neighbourhood, one,
S. ruficornus, fiills her larder with Mantes
and the other, S. tridentatus, fills it with Ci-
cadellae; ^ lastly, the Crabronidae ^ levy trib-
ute upon the rabble of the Muscidae.^

Already you see what a magnificent classi-
fication of these game-hunters might be made
with a faithfully listed bill of fare. Na-
tural groups stand out, characterized merely
by the identity of their victuals. I trust
that the methodical science of the future will
take account of these gastronomic laws, to
the great relief of the entomological novice,
who is too often hampered by the snares of
the mouth-parts, the antennae and the nerv-
ures of the wings. I call for a classification
in which the insect's aptitudes, its diet, its

1 Or Garden Spiders. Cf. The Life of the Spider:
chaps, ix. to xiv. and appendix. — Translator's Note.

2 Cf. The Life of the Grasshopper: chap. xx. — Trans-
lator's Note.

* Any Flies akin to the House-fly. — Translator's Note.

* Hornets. — Translator's Note.

170

Change of Diet

industry and its habits shall take precedence
of the shape of a joint in its antennae. It
will come; but when?

If from generalities we descend to details,
we shall see that the very species may, in
many instances, be determined from the na-
ture of its victuals. The number of bur-
rows of Philanthus apivorus ^ which I have
inspected since I have been rummaging the
hot road-side embankments, to enquire into
their population, would seem hyberbolical
were I able to state the figures. They must
amount, it seems to me, to thousands. Well,
in this multitude of food-stores, whether re-
cent or ancient, uncovered for a purpose or
encountered by chance, I have not once, not
as often as once, discovered other remains
than those of the Hive-bee : the imperishable
wings, still connected in pairs, the cranium
and thorax enveloped in a violet shroud,
the winding-sheet which time throws over
these relics. To-day as when I was a be-
ginner, ever so long ago ; in the north as in
the south of the country which I explored;
in mountainous regions as on the plains, the
Philanthus follows an unvarying diet: she
must have the Hive-bee, always the Bee and

1 For the Bee-eating Philanthus cf. Chapter X. of the
present volume. — Translator'} Note.
171

More Hunting Wasps

never any other, however closely various
other kinds of game resemble the Bee in
quality. If, therefore, when exploring sunny
banks, you find beneath the soil a small parcel
of mutilated Bees, that will be enough to
point to the existence of a local colony of
Philanthus apivorus. She alone knows the
recipe for making potted Bee-meat. The
Crioceris was but now teaching us all about
the lily family; and here the mildewed body
of the Bee tells us of the Philanthus and her
lair.

Similarly the female Ephippiger helps us
to identify the Languedocian Sphex: her
relics, the cymbals and the long sabre, are
the unmistakable sign of the cocoon to which
they adhere. The black Cricket, with his
red-braided thighs, is the infallible label of
the Yellow-winged Sphex; the larva of
Oryctes nasicornis tells us of the Garden
Scolia as certainly as the best description;
the Cetonia-grub proclaims the Two-banded
Scolia and the larva of the Anoxia an-
nounces the Interrupted Scolia.

After these exclusive ones, who disdain to
vary their meals, let us mention the eclectics,
who, in a group which is generally well-
defined, are able to select among different
172

Change of Diet

kinds of game appropriate to their bulk.
The Great Cerceris ^ favours above all Cle-
onus ophthalmicus, one of the largest of our
Weevils; but at need she accepts the other
Cleoni, as well as the kindred genera, pro-
vided that the capture be of an imposing
size, Cerceris arenaria ^ extends her hunt-
ing-grounds farther afield: any Weevil of
average dimensions is to her a welcome cap-
ture. The Buprestis-hunting Cerceris adopts
all the Buprestes indiscriminately, so long
as they are not beyond her strength. The
Crowned Philanthus {P. coronatus, FAB.)
fills her underground warehouses with Ha-
licti ^ chosen among the biggest. Much
smaller than her kinswoman, Philanthus
raptor, LEP., stores away Halicti chosen
among the less large species. Any adult
Acridian approaching an inch in length suits
the White-banded Sphex. The various
tidae of the neighbourhood are admitted to
the la'rder of Stizus ruficornus and of the
Mantis-hunting Tachytes on the sole condi-
tion of being young and tender. The lar-

1 Cerceris tuber culata. Cf. The Hunting Wasps: chaps,
ii. and iii. — Translator's Note.

2 Cf . idem : chap. i. — Translator's Note.

3 Cf. Bramble-bees and Others, by J. Henri Fabre, trans-
lated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chaps, xii. to
xiv. — Translator's Note.

173

More Hunting Wasps

gest of Our Bembeces {B. rostratz, FAB.,
and B, hidentata, VAN DER LIND) ^ are
eager consumers of Gad-flies. With these
chief dishes they associate relishes levied in-
differently from the rest of the Fly clan.
The Sandy Ammophila ^ {A. sahulosa, VAN
DER LIND) and the Hairy Ammophila
{A. hirsuta, KIRB.) cram into each burrow
a single but corpulent caterpillar, always of
the Moth tribe and varying greatly in color-
ation, which denotes distinct species. The
Silky Ammophila ^ {A. holosericea, VAN
DER LIND) has a better assorted diet.
She requires for each banqueter three or
four items, which include the Measuring-
worms, or Loopers, and the caterpillars
of ordinary Moths, all of which are equally
appreciated. The Brown-winged Solenius
{S. fascipennis, LEP.), who elects to dwell
in the soft dead wood of old willow-trees,
has a marked preference for Virgil's Bee,
Eristalis tenax,^ willingly adding, sometimes
as a side-dish, sometimes as the principal
game, Helophilus pendulus, whose costume

1 For the Rostrate Bembex and the Two-pronged Bem-
bex, cf. The Hunting Wasps: chap. xiv. — Translator's
Note.

2 Cf . idem: chap. xiii. — Translator's Note.
^ Cf. idem: chap. xiv. — Translator's Note.

* Actually the Common Drone-fly and somewhat re-
sembling a Bee in appearance. Cf. The Hunting Wasps:
chap. xiv. — Translator's Note.

m

Change of Diet

Is very different. On the faith of Indistin-
guishable remains, we must no doubt enter
a number of other Flies in her game-book.
The Golden-mouthed Hornet (Crabro
chrysostomus, LEP.) another burrower in
old willow-trees, prefers the Syrphi,^ with-
out distinction of species. The Wandering
Solenius ^ {S. vagus, LEP.), an inmate of
the dry bramble-stems and of the dwarf-
elder, lays under contribution for her larder
the genera Syritta, Spharophoria, Sarco-
phaga, Syrphus, Melanophora, Paragus and
apparently many others. The species which
recurs most frequently in my notes is Syritta
pipiens.

Without pursuing this tedious list any far-
ther, we plainly perceive the general result.
Each huntress has her characteristic tastes,
so much so that, when we know the bill of
fare, we can tell the genus and very often
the species of the guest, thus proving the
proud truth of the maxim, " Tell me what
you eat and I will tell you what you are."

There are some which always need the
same prey. The offspring of the Langue-

1 The Syrphi, like the Eristales, resemble Bees through
having the abdomen transversely banded with yellow. —
Translator's Note.

2 For this Fly-hunting insect cf. Bramble-bees and
Others: chaps, i. and iii. — Translator's Note.

175

More Hunting Wasps

docian Sphex religiously consume the Ephip-
piger, that family dish so dear to their an-
cestors and no less dear to their descendants;
no innovation in the ancient usages can tempt
them. Others are better suited by variety,
for reasons connected with flavour or with
facility of supply; but then the selection of
the game is kept within fixed limits.
A natural group, a genus, a family, more
rarely almost a whole order; this is the hunt-
ing-ground beyond which poaching is strictly
forbidden. The law is absolute; and one
and all scrupulously refrain from transgress-
ing it.

In the place of the Praying Mantis, offer
the Mantis-hunting Tachytes an equivalent
in the shape of a Locust. She will scorn
the morsel, though it would seem to be of
excellent flavour, seeing that Panzer's
Tachytes prefers it to any other form of
game. Offer her a young Empusa, who
differs so widely from the Mantis in shape
and colour: she will accept without hesita-
tion and operate before your eyes. Despite
its fantastic appearance, the Devilkin is in-
stantly recognized by the Tachytes as a
Mantid and therefore as game falHng within
her scope.

In exchange for her Cleonus, give to the
i;6

Change of Diet

Great Cerceris a Buprestis, the delight of
one of her near kinsfolk. She will have
nothing to say to the sumptuous dish. Ac-
cept that! She, a Weevil-eater! Never in
this world ! Present her with a Cleonus of a
different species, or any other large Weevil,
of a sort which she has most probably never
seen before, since it does not figure on the
inventory of the provisions in her burrows.
This time there is no show of disdain: the
victim Is seized and stabbed in the regulation
manner and forthwith stored away.

Try to persuade the Hairy Ammophila
that Spiders have a nutty flavour, as La-
lande ^ asserts ; and you will see how coldly
your hints are received. Try merely to con-
vince her that the caterpillar of a Butterfly
Is as good to eat as the caterpillar of a
Moth. You will not succeed. But, if you
substitute for her underground larva, which
I suppose to be grey, another underground
larva striped with black, yellow, rusty-red
or any other tint, this change of coloration
will not prevent her from recognizing, in the

1 Joseph Jerome Le Frangais de Lalande (1732-1807),
the astronomer. Even after he had achieved his reputa-
tion, he sought means, outside the domain of science, to
make himself talked about and found these in the dis-
play partly of odd tastes, such as that for eating Spiders
and caterpillars, and partly of atheistical opinions. —
Translators Note.

177

More Hunting Wasps

substituted dish, a victim to her liking, an
equivalent of her Grey Worm.

So with the rest, as far as I have been able
to experiment with them. Each obstinately
refuses what Is alien to her hunting-pre-
serves, each accepts whatever belongs to
them, always provided that the game substi-
tuted is much the same in size and develop-
ment as that whereof the owner has been de-
prived. Thus the Tarsal Tachytes, an ap-
preciative epicure of tender flesh, would not
consent to replace her pinch of young Acri-
dlan-grubs with the one big Locust that
forms the food of Panzer's Tachytes; and
the latter, in her turn, would never exchange
her adult Acridlan for the other's menu of
small fry. The genus and the species are
the same, but the age differs; and this is
enough to decide the question of acceptance
or refusal.

When its depredations cover a somewhat
extensive group, how does the Insect man-
age to recognize the genera, the species com-
posing her allotted portion and to distin-
guish them from the rest with an assured
vision which the inventory of her burrows
proves never to be at fault? Is it the ge-
neral appearance that guides her? No, for
in some Bembex-burrows we shall find
178

Change of Diet

Sphaerophoriae, those slender, thong-like crea-
tures, and Bombylii, looking like velvet pin-
cushions; no again, for in the pits of the
Silky Ammophila we shall see, side by side,
the caterpillar of the ordinary shape and the
Measuring-worm, a living pair of compasses
which progresses by alternately opening out
and closing; no, once more, for in the store-
rooms of Stizus ruficornus and the Mantis-
hunting Tachytes we see stacked beside the
Mantis the Empusa, her unrecognizable cari-
cature.

Is it the colouring? Not at all. There
is no lack of Instances. What a variety of
hues and metallic reflections, distributed
In a host of different fashions, appear In the
Buprestes that are hunted by the Cercerls
celebrated by Leon Dufour.^ A painter's
palette, containing crushed gold, bronze,
ruby and amethyst, would find It difficult to
rival these sumptuous colours. Neverthe-
less the Cercerls makes no mistake: all this
nation of Insects, so differently attired, repre-
sents to her, as to the entomologist, the na-

1 Jean Marie Leon Dufour (1780-1865) was an army
surgeon who served with distinction in several campaigns
and subsequently practised as a doctor in the Landes. He
attained great eminence as a naturalist. Cf. The Hunting
JVasps: chap. i. ; also The Life of the Spider: chap. i. —
Translator's Note.

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tion of the Buprestes. The inventory of
the Hornet's larder will include Diptera clad
in grey or russet frieze; others are girdled
with yellow, flecked with white, adorned with
crimson lines; others are steel-blue, ebony
black, or coppery green ; and underneath this
variety of dissimilar costumes we find the in-
variable Fly.

Let us take a concrete example. Ferre-
ro's Cerceris (C. Ferreri,, VAN DER
LIND) consumes Weevils. Her burrows
are usually lined with Phynotomi and Sitones
both an indeterminate grey, and Otiorhynchi,
black or tan-coloured. Now I have some-
times happened to unearth from her cells a
collection of veritable jewels which, thanks to
their bright metallic lustre, made a most strik-
ing contrast with the sombre Otiorhynchus.
These were the Rhynchites (R. betuleti)^
who roll the vine-leaves into cigars. Equally
magnificent, some of them were azure blue,
others copper gilt, for the cigar-roller has a
twofold colouring. How did the Cerceris
manage to recognize in these jewels the Wee-
vil, the near relative of the vulgar Phyno-
tomus? Any such encounters probably
found her lacking in expert knowledge; her
race cannot have handed down to her other
than very indeterminate propensities, for she
i8o

Change of Diet

does not appear to make frequent use of the
Rhynchites, as is proved by my infrequent
discovery of them amid the mass of my
numerous excavations. For the first time,
perhaps, passing through a vineyard, she saw
the rich Beetle gleaming on a leaf; it was
not. for her a dish In current consumption,
consecrated by the ancient usages of the fam-
ily. It was something novel, exceptional,
extraordinary. Well, this extraordinary
creature is recognized with certainty as a
Weevil and stored away as such. The glit-
tering cuirass of the Rhynchites goes to take
its place beside the grey cloak of the Phyno-
tomus. No, it is not the colour that guides
the choice.

Neither Is it the shape. Cerceris arenaria
hunts any medium-sized Weevil. I should
be putting the reader's patience to too great
a test if I attempted to give in this place a
complete inventory of the specimens Identi-
fied in her larder. I will mention only two,
which my latest searches around my village
have revealed. The Wasp goes hunting on
the holm-oaks of the neighbouring hills the
Pubescent Brachyderes (B. puhescens) and
the Acorn-weevil {Balaninus glandium).
What have these two Beetles in common as
regards shape? I mean by shape not the
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structural details which the classifier exam-
ines through his magnifying-glass, not the
delicate features which a Latreille would
quote when drawing up a technical descrip-
tion, but the general picture, the general out-
line that Impresses itself upon the vision
even of an untrained eye and makes the man
who knows nothing of science and above all
the child, a most perspicacious observer, con-
nect certain animals together.

In this respect, what have the Brachyderes
and the Balanlnus In common in the eyes of
the townsman, the peasant, the child or the
Cerceris? Absolutely nothing. The first
has an almost cylindrical figure; the second,
squat, short and thickset, is conical in front
and elliptical, or rather shaped like the ace
of hearts, behind. The first is black, strewn
with cloudy, mouse-grey spots; the second Is
yellow ochre. The head of the first ends in
a sort of snout; the head of the second tapers
into a curved beak, slender as a horse-hair
and as long as the rest of the body. The
Brachyderes has a massive proboscis, cut off
short; the Balanlnus seems to be smoking an
insanely long cigarette-holder.

Who would think of connecting two crea-
tures so unlike, of calling them by the same
name? Outside the professional classifiers,
182

Change of Diet

no one would dare to. The Cerceris, more
perspicacious, knows each of them for a Wee-
vil, a quarry with a concentrated nervous
system, lending itself to the surgical feat of
her single stroke of the lancet. After ob-
taining an abundant booty at the cost of the
blunt-mouthed insect, with which she some-
times stuffs her cellars to the exclusion of any
other fare, according to the hazards of the
chase, she now suddenly sees before her the
creature with the extravagant proboscis.
Accustomed to the first, will she fail to know
the second? By no means: at the first
glance she recognizes it as her own; and the
cell already furnished with a few Brachy-
deres receives its complement of Balanlni.
If these two species are to seek, if the bur-
rows are far from the holm-oaks, the Cer-
ceris will attack Weevils displaying the great-
est variety of genus, species, form and color-
ation, levying tribute indifferently on Sitones,
Cneorhini, Geonemi, Otiorhynchi, Stropho-
somi and many others.

In vain do I rack my brains merely to
guess at the signs upon which the huntress
relies as a guide, without going outside one
and the same group, in the midst of such
a variety of game; above all by what char-
acteristics she recognizes as a Weevil the
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strange Acorn Balaninus, the only one among
her victims that wears a long pipe-stem. I
leave to evolutionism, atavism and other
transcendental " isms " the honour and also
the risk of explaining what I humbly recog-
nize as being too far beyond my grasp. Be-
cause the son of the bird-catcher who imi-
tates the call of his victims has been fed on
roast Robins, Linnets and Chaffinches, shall
we hastily conclude that this education
through the stomach will enable him later,
without other initiation than that of the spit,
to know his way about the ornithological
groups and to avoid confusing them when his
turn comes to set his limed twigs ? Will the
digesting of a ragout of little birds, however
often repeated by him or his ascendants, suf-
fice to make him a finished bird-catcher?
The Cerceris has eaten Weevil; her ancestors
have all eaten Weevil, religiously. If you
see in this the reason that makes the Wasp
a Weevil-expert endowed with a perspicacity
unrivalled save by that of a professional en-
tomologist, why should you refuse to admit
that the same consequences would follow in
the bird-catcher's family?

I hasten to abandon these insoluble prob-
lems in order to attack the question of pro-
visions from another point of view. Every
184

Change of Diet

Hunting Wasp is confined to a certain genus
of game, which is usually strictly limited.
She pursues her appointed quarry and re-
gards anything outside it with suspicion and
distaste. The tricks of the experimenter,
who drags her prey from under her and flings
her another in exchange, the emotions of the
possessor deprived of her property and im-
mediately recovering it, but under another
form, are powerless to put her on the wrong
scent. Obstinately she refuses whatever is
alien to her portion; instantly she accepts
whatever forms part of it. Whence arises
this insuperable repugnance for provisions
to which the family is unaccustomed? Here
we may appeal to experiment. Let us do so :
its dictum is the only one that can be trusted.
The first idea that presents itself and the
only one, I think, that can present itself is
that the larva, the carnivorous nurseling, has
its preferences, or we had better say its ex-
clusive tastes. This kind of game suits it;
that does not; and the mother provides it
with food in conformity with its appetites,
which are unchangeable in each species.
Here the family dish is the Gad-fly; else-
where it is the Weevil; elsewhere again it is
the Cricket, the Locust and the Praying
Mantis. Good in themselves, in a general
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More Hunting Wasps

way, these several victuals may be noxious
to a consumer who is not used to them. The
larva which dotes on Locust may find cater-
pillar a detestable fare; and that which rev-
els in caterpillar may hold Locust in horror.
It would be hard for us to discover in what
manner Cricket-flesh and Ephippiger-flesh
differ as juicy, nourishing foodstuffs; but it
does not follow that the two Sphex-wasps
addicted to this diet have not very decided
opinions on the matter, or that each of them
is not filled with the highest esteem for its
traditional dish and a profound dislike for
the other. There is no discussing tastes.

Moreover, the question of health may well
be involved. There is nothing to tell us that
the Spider, that treat for the Pompilus, is
not poison, or at least unwholesome food, to
the Bembex, the lover of Gad-flies; that the
Ammophila's succulent caterpillar is not re-
pugnant to the stomach of the Sphex fed upon
the dry Acridian. The mother's esteem for
one kind of game and her distrust of another
would in that case be due to the likes and
dislikes of her larvas; the victualler would
regulate the bill of fare by the gastronomic
demands of the victualled.

This exclusiveness of the carnivorous larva
seems all the more probable inasmuch as the
i86

Change of Diet

larva reared on vegetable food refuses in
any Way to lend itself to a change of diet.
However pressed by hunger, the caterpillar
of the Spurge Hawk-moth, which browses
on the tithymals, will allow itself to starve
in front of a cabbage leaf which makes a
peerless meal for the Pieris. Its stomach,
burned by pungent spices, will find the Cru-
cifera insipid and uneatable, though its
piquancy is enhanced by essence of sulphur.
The Pieris, on its part, takes good care not
to touch the tithymals: they would endanger
its life. The caterpillar of the Death's-
head Hawk-moth requires the solanaceous
narcotics, principally the potato, and will
have nothing else. All that is not seasoned
with solanin it abhors. And it is not only
larvae whose food is strongly spiced with
alkaloids and other poisonous substances that
refuse any innovation in their food; the
others, even those whose diet is least juicy,
are invincibly uncompromising. Each has
its plant or its group of plants, beyond which
nothing is acceptable.

I remember a late frost which had nipped
the buds of the mulberry-trees during the
night, just when the first leaves were out.
Next day there was great excitement among
my neighbours: the Silk-worms had hatched
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More Hunting Wasps

and the food had suddenly failed. The
farmers had to wait for the sun to repair
the disaster; but how were they to keep the
famishing new-born grubs alive for a few
days? They knew me for an expert in
plants; by collecting them as I walked
through the fields I had earned the name
of a medical herbalist. With poppy-flowers
I prepared an elixir which cleared the sight;
with borage I obtained a syrup which was a
sovran remedy for whooping-cough; I dis-
tilled camomile; I extracted the essential
oil from the wintergreen. In short, botany
had won for me the reputation of a quack
doctor. After all, that was something.

The housewives came in search of me
from every point of the compass and with
tears in their eyes explained the situation.
What could they give their Silk-worms while
waiting for the mulberry to sprout afresh?
It was a serious matter, well worthy of com-
miseration. One was counting on her batch
to buy a length of cloth for her daughter,
who was on the point of getting married;
another told me of her plans for a Pig to
be fattened against the coming winter; all
deplored the handful of crown-pieces which,
hoarded in the hiding-place in the cupboard,

would have afforded help in difficult times.
i88

Change of Diet

And, full of their troubles, they unfolded,
before my eyes, a scrap of flannel on which
the vermin were swarming:

" Regardas, moussu! Venoun d'espeli;
et ren per lour douna! Ah, pecdire!
Look, sir! The frost has come and we've
nothing to give them! Oh, what a misfor-
tune!"

Poor people! What a harsh trade is
yours: respectable above all others, but of
all the most uncertain! You work your-
selves to death; and, when you have almost
reached your goal, a few hours of a cold
night, which comes upon you suddenly, de-
stroys your harvest. To help these afflicted
ones seemed to me a very difficult thing. I
tried, however, taking botany as my guide;
it suggested to me, as substitutes for the
mulberry, the members of closely-related
families: the elm, the nettle-tree, the nettle,
the pellitory. Their nascent leaves, chopped
small, were offered to the Silk-worms.
Other and far less logical attempts were
made, in accordance with the inspiration of
the individuals. Nothing came of them.
To the last specimen, the new-born
Silk-worms died of hunger. My renown as
a quack must have suffered somewhat from
this check. Was it really my fault? No,
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More Hunting Wasps

It was the fault of the Silk-worm, which re-
mained faithful to its mulberry-leaf.

It was therefore in nearly the certainty of
non-fulfilment that I made my first attempts
at rearing carnivorous larvae with a quarry
which did not conform with the customary
regimen. For conscience' sake, more or less
perfunctorily, I endeavoured to achieve
something that seemed to me bound to end in
pitiful failure. Only the Bembex-wasps,
which are plentiful in the sand of the neigh-
bouring hills, might still afford me, without
too prolonged a search, a few subjects on
which to experiment. The Tarsal Bembex
furnished me with what I wanted: larvae
young enough to have still before them a long
period of feeding and yet sufficiently devel-
oped to endure the trials of a removal.

These larvae are exhumed with all the con-
sideration which their delicate skin demands;
a number of head of game are likewise un-
earthed intaot, having been recently brought
by the mother. They consist of various
Diptera, including some Anthrax-flies.^ An
old sardine-box, containing a layer of sifted
sand and divided into compartments by paper
partitions, receives my charges, who are iso-

1 Cf. The Life of the Fly: chaps, ii. and iv. — Trans-
lator's Note.

igo

Change of Diet

lated one from another. These Fly-eaters
I propose to turn into Grasshopper-eaters;
for their Bembex-diet I intend to substitute
the diet of a Sphex or a Tachytes. To save
myself tedious errands devoted to provision-
ing the refectory, I accept what good for-
tune offers me at the very threshold of my
door. A green Locustid, with a short sabre
bent into a reaping-hook, Phaneroptera fal-
cata, is ravaging the corollae of my petunias.
Now is the time to indemnify myself for the
damage which she has caused me. I pick
her young, half to three-quarters of an inch
in length; and I deprive her of movement,
without more ado, by crushing her head.
In this condition she Is served up to the Bem-
bex-larvae in place of their Flies.

If the reader has shared my convictions
of failure, convictions based on very logical
motives, he will now share my profound
surprise. The impossible becomes possible,
the senseless becomes reasonable and the
expected becomes the opposite of the real.
The dish served on the Bembeces' table for
the first time since Bembeces came into the
world Is accepted without any repugnance
and consumed with every mark of satisfac-
tion. I will here set down the detailed
diary of one of my guests; that of the others
191

More Hunting Wasps

would only be a repetition, save for a few
variations.

2 August^ 1883. The larva of the Bem-
bex, as I extract it from its burrow, is about
half-developed. Around it I find only some
scanty relics of its meals, consisting chiefly
of Anthrax-wings, half-diaphanous and half-
clouded. The mother would appear to have
completed the victualling by fresh contribu-
tions, added day by day. I give the nurse-
ling, which is an Anthrax-eater, a young
Phaneroptera. The Locustid is attacked
without hesitation. This profound change
in the character of its victuals does not seem
in the least to disturb the larva, which bites
straight into the rich morsel with its mandi-
bles and does not let go until it has exhausted
it. Towards evening the drained carcase is
replaced by another, quite fresh, of the same
species but bulkier, measuring over three-
quarters of an inch.

3 August. — Next day I find the Phane-
roptera devoured. Nothing remains but the
dry Integuments, which are not dismembered.
The entire contents have disappeared; the
game has been emptied through a large open-
ing made In the belly. A regular Grass-
hopper-eater could not have operated more
skilfully. I replace the worthless carcase

192

Change of Diet

by two small Locustidae. At first the larva
does not touch them, being amply sated with
the copious meal of the day before. In the
afternoon, however, one of the items is reso-
lutely attacked.

4 August. — I renew the victuals, although
those of the day before are not finished.
For the rest, I do the same daily, so that my
charge may constantly have fresh food at
hand. High game might upset its stomach.
My Locustidae are not victims at the same
time living and inert, operated upon accord-
ing to the dehcate method of the insects that
paralyse their prey; they are corpses, pro-
cured by a brutal crushing of the head.
With the temperature now prevailing, flesh
soon becomes tainted; and this compels me
frequently to renew the provisions in my sar-
dine-box refectory. Two specimens are
served up. One is attacked soon after-
wards; and the larva clings to it assiduously.

5 August. — The ravenous appetite of the
start is becoming assuaged. My supplies
may well be too generous; and it might be
prudent to try a little dieting after this Gar-
gantuan good cheer. The mother certainly
is more parsimonious. If all the family
were to eat at the same rate as my guest,
she would never be able to keep pace with

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their demands. Therefore, for reasons of
health, this is a day of fasting and vigil.

6 August. — Supplies are renewed with
two Phaneropterae. One is consumed en-
tirely; the other is bitten into.

7 August. — To-day's ration is tasted and
then abandoned. The larva seems uneasy.
With its pointed mouth it explores the walls
of its chamber. This sign denotes the ap-
proach of the time for making the cocoon.

8 August. — During the night the larva
has spun its silken eel-trap. It is now en-
crusting it with grains of sand. Then fol-
low, in due time, the normal phases of the
metamorphosis. Fed on Locustidae, a diet
unknown to its race, the larva passes through
its several stages without any more difficulty
than its brothers and sisters fed on Flies.

I obtained the same success in offering
young Mantes for food. One of the larvae
thus served would even incline me to believe
that it preferred the new dish to the tradi-
tional diet of its race. Two Eristales, or
Drone-flies, and a Praying Mantis an inch
long composed its daily allowance. The
Drone-flies are disdained from the first
mouthful; and the Mantis, already tasted and
apparently found excellent, causes the Fly
to be completely forgotten. Is this an epi-
194

Change of Diet

cure's preference, due to the greater juici-
ness of the flesh? I am not in a position
to say. At all events, the Bembex is not so
infatuated with Fly as to refuse to abandon
it for other game.

The failure which I foresaw has proved
a magnificent success. It Is fairly convinc-
ing, is it not? Without the evidence of ex-
periment, what can we rely upon? Beneath
the ruins of so many theories which appeared
to be most solidly erected I should hesitate
to admit that two and two make four if the
facts were not before me. My argument
had the most tempting probability on its side,
but it had not the truth. As It is always
possible to find reasons after the event in
support of an opinion which one would not
at first admit, I should now argue as fol-
lows:

The plant is the great factory in which
are elaborated, with mineral materials, the
organic principles which are the materials
of life. Certain products are common to the
whole vegetable series, but others, far less
numerous, are prepared In special labora-
tories. Each genus, each species has Its
trade-mark. Here essential oils are manu-
factured; here alkaloids; here starches, fatty
substances, resins, sugars, acids. Hence re-

195'

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suit special energies, which do not suit every
herbivorous animal. It assuredly requires a
stomach made expressly for the purpose to
digest aconite, colchicum, hemlock or hen-
bane; those who have not such a stomach
could never endure a diet of that sort. Be-
sides, the Mithridates ^ fed on poison resist
only a single toxin. The caterpillar of the
Death's-head Hawk-moth, which delights in
the solanin of the potato, would be killed
by the acrid principle of the tithymals that
form the food of the Spurge-caterpillar.
The herbivorous larvae are therefore per-
force exclusive in their tastes, because differ-
ent genera of vegetables possess very differ-
ent properties.

With this variety in the products of the
plant, the animal, a consumer far more than
a producer, contrasts the uniformity in its
own products. The albumen in the egg of
the Ostrich or the Chaffinch, the casein in the
milk of the Cow or the Ass, the muscular
flesh of the Wolf or the Sheep, the Screech-
owl or the Field-mouse, the Frog or the
Earth-worm: these remain albumen, casein
or fibrin, edible if not eaten. Here are no

1 Mithridates VI. King of Pontus {d. B.C. 63) is said
to have secured immunity from poison by talting in-
creased doses of it. — Translator's Note.
196

Change of Diet

excruciating condiments, no special acridi-
ties, no alkaloids fatal to any stomach other
than that of the appointed consumer; so that
animal food is not confined to one and the
same eater. What does not man eat, from
that delicacy of the arctic regions, soup made
of Seal's blood and a scrap of Whale-blubber
wrapped in a willow-leaf for a vegetable, to
the Chinaman's fried Silk-worm or the
Arab's dried Locust? What would he not
eat, if he had not to overcome the repug-
nance dictated by habit far rather than by
actual necessity? The prey being uniform
in its nutritive principles, the carnivorous
larva ought to accommodate itself to any
sort of game, above all if the new dish be
not too great a departure from consecrated
usage. Thus should I argue, with no less
probablhty on my side, had I to begin all
over again. But, as all our arguments have
not the value of a single fact, I should be
forced in the end to resort to experiment.

I did so the next year, on a larger scale
and with a greater variety of subjects. I
shrink from a continuous narrative of my ex-
periments and of my personal education in this
new art, where the failure of one day taught
me the way to succeed on the morrow. It
would be long and tedious. Enough if I
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More Hunting Wasps

briefly state my results and the conditions
which must be fulfilled in order to run the
delicate refectory as it should be run.

And, first, we must not dream of detaching
the egg from its natural prey to lay it on
another. The egg adheres pretty firmly, by
its cephalic pole, to the quarry. To remove
it from its place would inevitably jeopardize
its future. I therefore let the larva hatch
and acquire suflicient strength to bear the
removal without peril. For that matter, my
excavations most often provide me with my
subjects in the form of larvae. I adopt for
rearing-purposes the larvae that are a quar-
ter to a half developed. The others are
too young and risky to handle, or too old and
limited to a short period of artificial feeding.

Secondly, I avoid bulky heads of game,
a single one of which would suflice for the
whole growing-stage. I have already said
and I here repeat how nice a matter it is to
consume a victim which has to keep fresh
for a couple of weeks and not to finish dying
until it is almost entirely devoured. Death
here leaves no corpse; when life is extinct,
the body has disappeared, leaving only a
shred of skin. Larvae with only one large
prey have a special art of eating, a danger-
ous art, in which a clumsy bite would prove
?98

Change of Diet

fatal. If bitten before the proper time at
such a point, the victim becomes putrid,
which promptly causes death by poisoning in
the consumer. When diverted from its plan
of attack, deprived of its clue, the larva is
not always able to rediscover the lawful
morsels in good time and is killed by the
decomposition of its badly dissected prey.
What will happen if the experimenter gives
it a game to which it is not accustomed?
Not knowing how to eat it according to rule,
the larva will kill it; and by next day the
victuals will have become so much toxic
putrescence. I have already told how I
found it impossible to rear the Two-banded
Scolia on Oryctes-larvae, fastened down to
deprive them of movement, or even on
Ephippigers, paralyzed by the Languedocian
Sphex. In both cases the new diet was ac-
cepted without hesitation, a proof that it
suited the nursehng; but in a day or two
putrescence supervened and the Scolia per-
ished on the fetid morsel. The method of
preserving the Ephippiger, so well known to
the Sphex, was unknown to my boarder;
and this was enough to convert a delicious
food into poison.

Even so did my other attempts miscarry
wretchedly, attempts at feeding with the sin-
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gle dish consisting of one big head of game
to replace the normal ration. Only one suc-
cess is recorded in my note-books, but that
was so difficult that I would not undertake to
obtain it a second time. I succeeded in feed-
ing the larva of the Hairy Ammophila with
an adult black Cricket, who was accepted as
readily as the natural game, the caterpillar.
To avoid putrefaction of victuals which
last overlong and are not consumed accord-
ing to the method indispensable to their
preservation, I employ small game, each piece
of which can be finished by the larva at a sin-
gle sitting, or at most in a single day. It
matters little then that the victim is slashed
and dismembered at random; decomposition
has no time to seize upon its still quivering
tissues. This is the procedure of those
larvae which gulp down their food, snapping
at random without distinguishing one part
from another, such as the Bembex-Iarvae,
which finish the Fly into which they
have bitten before beginning another in the
heap, or the Cerceris-larvae, which drain
their Weevils methodically one after another.
With the first strokes of the mandibles the
victim broached may be mortally wounded.
This is no disadvantage: a brief spell suffices
to make use of the corpse, which is saved

200

Change of Diet

from putrefaction by being promptly con-
sumed. Close beside it, the other victims,
quite alive though motionless, await their re-
spective turns and supply reserves of victuals
which are always fresh.

I am too unskilful a butcher to imitate the
Wasp and myself to resort to paralysis;
moreover, the caustic liquid injected into the
nerve-centres, ammonia in particular, would
leave traces of smell or flavour which might
put off my boarders. I am therefore com-
pelled to deprive my insects of the power of
movement by killing them outright. This
makes it impracticable to provide a sufficiency
of provisions beforehand in a single supply:
while one item of the ration was being con-
sumed the rest would spoil. One expedient
alone remains to me, one which entails con-
stant attendance : it is to renew the provisions
each day. When all these conditions are ful-
filled, the success of artificial feeding is still
not without its difficulties; nevertheless, with
a little care and above all plenty of patience,
it Is almost certain.

It was thus that I reared the Tarsal Bem-
bex, which eats Anthrax-flies and other Dip-
tera, on young Locustidae or Mantidae; the
Silky Ammophila, whose diet consists chiefly
of Measuring-worms, on small Spiders; the

20I

More Hunting Wasps

pot-making Pelopaeus, a Spider-eater, on ten-
der Acridians; the Sand Cerceris, a passion-
ate lover of Weevils, on Halicti; the Bee-
eating Philanthus, which feeds exclusively on
Hive-bees, on Eristales and other Flies.
Without succeeding in my final aim, for rea-
sons which I have just explained, I have seen
the Two-banded Scolia feasting greedily on
the grub of the Oryctes, which was substi-
tuted for that of the Cetonia, and putting up
with an Ephippiger taken from the burrow
of the Sphex; I have been present at the re-
past of three Hairy Ammophilae accepting
with an excellent appetite the Cricket that
replaced their caterpillar. One of them, as
I have related, contrived to keep its ration
fresh, which enabled it to reach its full de-
velopment and to spin its cocoon.

These examples, the only ones to which
my experiments have extended hitherto, seem
to me sufficiently convincing to allow me to
conclude that the carnivorous larva does not
have exclusive tastes. The ration suppHed
to it by the mother, so monotonous, so lim-
ited in quality, might be replaced by others
equally to its taste. Variety does not dis-
please the larva; it does it as much good as
uniformity; indeed, it would be of greater
benefit to the race, as we shall see presently.

202

CHAPTER VIII

A DIG AT THE EVOLUTIONISTS

TO rear a caterpillar-eater on a skewer-
ful of Spiders is a very innocent thing,
unlikely to compromise the security of the
State; it is also a very childish thing, as I
hasten to confess, and worthy of the school-
boy who, in the mysteries of his desk, seeks
as best he may some diversion from the fas-
cinations of his exercise in composition.
And I should not have undertaken these in-
vestigations, still less should I have spoken
them, not without some satisfaction, if I had
not discerned, in the results obtained in my
refectory, a certain philosophic import, in-
volving, so it seemed to me, the evolutionary
theory.

It is assuredly a majestic enterprise, com-
mensurate with man's immense ambitions, to
seek to pour the universe into the mould of a
formula and submit every reality to the stand-
ard of reason. The geometrician proceeds
in this manner: he defines the cone, an ideal
conception; then he intersects it by a plane.
203

More Hunting Wasps

The conic section is submitted to algebra, an
obstetrical appliance which brings forth the
equation; and behold, entreated now in one
direction, now in another, the womb of the
formula gives birth to the ellipse, the hyper-
bola, the parabola, their foci, their radius
vectors, their tangents, their normals, their
conjugate axes, their asymptotes and the rest.
It is magnificent, so much so that you are
overcome by enthusiasm, even when you
are twenty years old, an age hardly adapted
to the austerities of mathematics. It is su-
perb. You feel as if you were witnessing
the creation of a world.

As a matter of fact, you are merely ob-
serving the same idea from different points
of view, which are illumined by the success-
ive phases of the transformed formula. All
that algebra unfolds for our benefit was con-
tained in the definition of the cone, but it
was contained as a germ, under latent forms
which the magic of the calculus converts into
explicit forms. The gross value which our
mind confided to the equation it returns to
us, without loss or gain, in coins stamped
with every sort of effigy. And here precisely
is that which constitutes the inflexible rigour
of the calculus, the luminous certainty before
which every cultivated mind is forced to bow.
204

A Dig at the Evolutionists

Algebra is the oracle of the absolute truth,
because It reveals nothing but what the mind
had hidden In It under an amalgam of sym-
bols. We put 2 and 2 Into the machine; the
rollers work and show us 4. That Is all.

But to this calculus, all-powerful so long
as It does not leave the domain of the ideal,
let us submit a very modest reality: the fall
of a grain of sand, the pendular movement
of a hanging body. The machine no longer
works, or does so only by suppressing al-
most everything that is real. It must have
an Ideal material point, an ideal rigid thread,
an ideal point of suspension; and then the
pendular movement is translated by a form-
ula. But the problem defies all the artifices
of analysis If the oscillating body is a real
body, endowed with volume and friction;
if the suspensory thread is a real thread, en-
dowed with weight and flexibility; if the point
of support is a real point, endowed with re-
sistance and capable of deflection. So with
other problems, however simple. The exact
reality escapes the formula.

Yes, it would be a fine thing to put the
world Into an equation, to assume as the first
principle a cell filled with albumen and by
transformation after transformation to dis-
cover life under its thousand aspects as the
20s

More Hunting Wasps

geometrician discovers the ellipse and the
other curves by examining his conic section.
Yes, it would be magnificent and enough to
add a cubit to our stature. Alas, how
greatly must we abate our pretensions ! The
reality is beyond our reach when it is only a
matter of following a grain of dust in its
fall; and we would undertake to ascend the
river of life and trace it to its source ! The
problem is a more arduous one than that
which algebra declines to solve. There are
formidable unknown quantities here, more
difficult to decipher than the resistances, the
deflections and the frictions of the pendulum.
Let us eliminate them, that we may more
easily propound the theory.

Very well; but then my confidence in this
natural history which repudiates nature and
gives ideal conceptions precedence over reaj
facts is shaken. So, without seeking the op-
portunity, which is not my business, I take
it when it presents itself; I examine the
theory of evolution from every side ; and, as
that which I have been assured is the ma-
jestic dome of a monument capable of defy- j
ing the ages appears to me to be no more
than a bladder, I irreverently dig my pin into I

'^' . . y

Here is the latest dig. Adaptability to a j
206

A Dig at the Evolutionists

varied diet is an element of well-being In the
animal, a factor of prime importance for the
extension and predominance of its race in the
bitter struggle for life. The most unfor-
tunate species would be that which depended
for its existence on a diet so exclusive that
no other could replace it. What would be-
come of the Swallow if he required, in order
to live, one particular Gnat, a single Gnat,
always the same ? When once this Gnat had
disappeared — and the life of the Mosquito
is not a long one — the bird would die of
starvation. Fortunately for himself and for
the happiness of our homes, the Swallow
gulps them all down indiscriminately, to-
gether with a host of other Insects that per-
form aerial ballets. What would become of
the Lark were his gizzard able to digest
only one seed, invariably the same? When
the season for this seed was over — and the
season Is always a short one — the haunter
of the furrows would perish.

Is not man's complaisant stomach, adapted
to the largest variety of nourishment, one
of his great zoological privileges? He Is
thus rendered Independent of climates, sea-
sons and latitudes. And the Dog: how Is
it that of all the domestic animals he alone

is able to accompany us everywhere, even on
207

More Hunting Wasps

the most arduous expeditions? The Dog
again is omnivorous and therefore a cosmo-
politan.

The discovery of a new dish, said Brillat-
Savarin, is of greater importance to human-
ity than the discovery of a new planet. The
aphorism is nearer to the truth than it ap-
pears to be in its humorous form. Certainly
the man who was the first to think of crush-
ing wheat, kneading flour and cooking the
paste between two hot stones was more de-
serving than the discoverer of the two-hun-
dredth asteroid. The invention of the po-
tato is certainly as valuable as that of Nep-
tune, glorious as the latter was. All that
increases our alimentary resources is a dis-
covery of the first merit. And what is true
of man cannot be other than true of animals.
The world belongs to the stomach which is
independent of specialities. This truth is of
the kind that has only to be stated to be
proved.

Let us now return to our insects. If I am
to believe the evolutionists, the various game-
hunting Wasps are descended from a small
number of types, which are themselves de-
rived, by an incalculable number of concate-
nations, from a few amoebae, a few monera
and lastly from the first clot of protoplasm
208

A Dig at the Evolutionists

which was casually condensed. Let us not
go back as far as that; let us not plunge into
the fogs where illusion and error too easily
find a lurking-place. Let us consider a sub-
ject with exact limits to it; this is the only
way to understand one another.

The Sphegidae are descended from a single
type, which itself was already a highly-de-
veloped descendant and, like its successors,
fed its family on prey. The close similarity
in form, in colouring and, above all, in ha-
bits seem to refer the Tachytes to the same
origin. This is ample; let us be satisfied
with it. And now please tell me, what did
this prototype of the Sphegidae hunt? Was
its diet varied or uniform? If we cannot
decide, let us examine the two cases.

The diet was varied. I heartily congratu-
late the first born of the Sphex-wasps. She
enjoyed the most favourable conditions for
leaving a prosperous offspring. Accommo-
dating herself to any kind of prey not dis-
proportionate to her strength, she avoided
the dearth of a given species of game at this
or that time and in this or that place; she
always found the wherewithal to endow her
family magnificently, they being, for that
matter, fairly indifferent to the nature of the
victuals, provided that these consisted of
209

More Hunting Wasps

fresh Insect-flesh, as the tastes of their cousins
many times removed prove to this day.
This matriarch of the Sphex clan bore within
herself the best chances of assuring victory
to her offspring in that pitiless fight for exist-
ence which eliminates the weakly and In-
capable and allows none but the strong and
industrious to survive; she possessed an apti-
tude of great value which atavism could not
fail to hand down and which her descendants,
who are greatly interested in preserving this
magnificent inheritance, must have perma-
nently adopted and even accentuated from
one generation to the next, from one branch,
one offshoot, to another.

Instead of this unscrupulously omnivorous
race, levying booty upon every kind of game,
to its very great advantage, what do we see
to-day? Each Sphex is stupidly limited to
an unvarying diet; she hunts only one kind
of prey, though her larva accepts them all.
One will have nothing but the Ephipplger
and must have a female at that; another will
have nothing but the Cricket. This one
hunts the Locust and nothing else; that one
the Mantis and the Empusa. Yet another
is addicted to the Grey Worm and another to
the Looper.

Fools! How great was your mistake In

2IO

A Dig at the Evolutionists

allowing the wise eclecticism of your ances-
tress, whose relics now repose in the hard
mud of some lacustrian stratum, to become
obsolete ! How much better would things
be for you and yours ! Abundance is as-
sured; painful and often fruitless searches
are avoided; the larder is crammed without
being subject to the accidents of time, place
and climate. When Ephlpplgers run short,
you fall back upon Crickets; when there
are no Crickets, you capture Grasshoppers.
But no, my beautiful Sphex-wasps, you
were not such fools as that. If in our
days you are each confined to a standing
family-dish, it is because your ancestress of
the lacustrian schists never taught you va-
riety.

Could she have taught you uniformity?
Let us suppose that the Sphex of antiquity,
a novice in the gastronomic art, prepared her
potted meats with a single kind of game, no
matter what. It was then her descendants
who, subdivided into groups and consti-
tuted into so many distinct species by the
slow travail of the centuries, realized that
in addition to the ancestral fare there ex-
isted a host of other foods. Tradition be-
ing abandoned, there was nothing to guide
their choice. They therefore tried a bit of

211

More Hunting Wasps

everything in the way of insect game, at
hap-hazard; and each time the larva, whose
tastes alone had to be consulted, was satisfied
with the food supplied, as it is to-day in the
refectory provisioned by my care.

Every attempt led to the invention of a
new dish, an important event, according to
the masters, an inestimable resource for the
family, who were thereby delivered from the
menace of death and enabled to thrive over
large areas whence the absence or rarity of
a uniform game would have excluded it.
And, after making use of a host of different
viands in order to attain the culinary variety
which is to-day adopted by the whole of the
Sphex nation, lo and behold, each species
confines itself to a single sort of game, out-
side which every specimen is obstinately re-
fused, not at table, of course, but in the hunt-
ing-field! By your experiments, from age
to age, to have discovered variety in diet;
to have practised it, to the great advantage
of your race, and to end up with uniformity,
the cause of decadence; to have known the
excellent and to repudiate it for the mid-
dling: oh, my Sphex-wasps, it would be stu-
pid if the theory of evolution were correct!

To avoid insulting you and also from re-
spect for common sense, I prefer therefore

A Dig at the Evolutionists

to believe that, if in our days you confine
your hunting to a single kind of game, it is
because you have never known any other. i\
prefer to believe that your common ances- 1
tre^, your precursor, Whether her* ta'stes i
were simple or complex, is a pure chimera,^>>
for, if there were any relationship between
you, having tested everything in order to
arrive at the actual food of each species,
having eaten everything and found it grate-
ful to the stomach, you would now, from
first to last, be unprejudiced consumers, om-
nivorous progressives. I prefer to beheve,
in short, that the theory of evolution is pow-
erless to explain your diet. This is the con-
clusion drawn from the dining-room installed
in my old sardincnbox.

213

CHAPTER IX

RATIONING ACCORDING TO SEX

CONSIDERED in respect of quality, the
food has just disclosed our profound ig-
norance of the origins of instinct. Success
falls to the blusterers, to the imperturbable
dogmatists, from whom anything is accepted
if only they make a little noise. Let us dis-
card this bad habit and admit that really,
if we go to the bottom of things, we
know nothing about anything. Scientifically
speaking, nature is a riddle to which human
curiosity finds no definite solution. Hypoth-
esis follows hypothesis; the theoretical
rubbish-heap grows bigger and bigger; and
still truth escapes us. To know how to
know nothing might well be the last word of
wisdom.

Considered in respect of quantity, the food
sets us other problems, no less obscure.
Those of us who devote ourselves assidu-
ously to studying the customs of the game-
hunting Wasps soon find our attention ar-
214

Rationing According to Sex

rested by a very remarkable fact, at the
time when our mind, refusing to be satisfied
with sweeping generalities, which our indo-
lence too readily makes shift with, seeks to
enter as far as possible into the secret of the
details, so curious and sometimes so im-
portant, as and when they become better-
known to us. This fact, which has preoccu-
pied me for many a long year, is the variable
quantity of the provisions packed into the
burrow as food for the larva.

Each species is scrupulously faithful to the
diet of its ancestors. For more than a quar-
ter of a century I have been exploring my
district; and I have never known the diet to
vary. To-day, as thirty years ago, each
huntress must have the game which I first
saw her pursuing. But, though the nature
of the victuals is constant, the quantity is not
so. In this respect the difference is so great
that he would need to be a very superficial
observer who should fail to perceive it on
his first examination of the burrows. In
the beginning, this difference, involving two,
three, four times the quantity and more, per-
plexed me extremely and led me to the con-
clusions which I reject to-day.

Here, among the instances most familiar
215

More Hunting Wasps

to me, are some examples of these variations
in the number of victims provided for the
larva, victims, of course, very nearly Iden-
tical In size. In the larder of the Yellow-
winged Sphex, after the victualling is com-
pleted and the house shut up, two or three
Crickets are sometimes found and sometimes
four. Stizus ruficornisj^ established in some
vein of soft sandstone, places three Praying
Mantes in one cell and five in another. Of
the caskets fashioned by Amedeus' Eumenes ^
out of clay and bits of stone, the more richly
endowed contain ten small caterpillars, the
more poorly furnished five. The Sand Cep
cerls ^ will sometimes provide a ration of
eight Weevils and sometimes one of twelve
or even more. My notes abound in ab-
stracts of this kind. It Is unnecessary for
the purpose in hand to quote them all. It
will serve our object better If I give the de-
tailed inventory of the Bee-eating Philanthus
and of the Mantis-hunting Tachytes, con-
sidered especially with regard to the quan-
tity of the victuals.

The slayer of Hive-bees is frequently in
my neighbourhood; and I can obtain from

1 Cf . The Hunting Wasps: chap. xx. ; also Bramble-
bees and Others: chap. ix. — Translator's Note.

2 Cf. The Mason-wasps: chap. i. — Translator's Note.
' Cf . The Hunting Wasps : chap. ii. — Translator's Note.

21 6

Rationing According to Sex

her with the least trouble the greatest num-
ber of data. In September I see the bold
filibuster flying from clump to clump of the
pink heather pillaged by the Bee. The ban-
dit suddenly arrives, hovers, makes her
choice and swoops down. The trick is done :
the poor worker, with her tongue lolling
from her mouth in the death-struggle, is
carried through the air to the underground
den, which is often a very long way from the
spot of the capture. The trickling of earthy
refuse, on the bare banks, or on the slopes
of foot-paths, instantly reveals the dwellings
of the ravisher; and, as the Philanthus al-
ways works in fairly populous colonies, I am
able, by noting the position of the
communities, to make sure of fruitful
excavations during the forced inactivity of
winter.

The sapping is a laborious task, for the
galleries run to a great depth. Favier
wields the pick and spade ; I break the clods
which he brings down and open the cells,
whose contents — cocoons and remnants of
provisions — I at once pour into a little
screw of paper. Sometimes, when the larva
is not developed, the stack of Bees is intact;
more often the victuals have been consumed;
217

More Hunting Wasps

but it is always possible to tell the number
of items provided. The heads, abdomens
and thoraxes, emptied of their fleshy sub-
stance and reduced to the tough outer skin,
are easily counted. If the larva has chewed
these overmuch, the wings at least are left;
these are sapless organs which the Philanthus
absolutely scorns. They are likewise spared
by moisture, putrefaction and time, so much
so that it is no more difficult to take an in-
ventory of a cell several years old than one
of a recent cell. The essential thing is not
to overlook any of these tiny relics while
placing them in the paper bag, amid the
thousand incidents of the excavation. The
rest of the work will be done in the study,
with the aid of the lens, taking the remains
heap by heap; the wings will be separated
from the surrounding refuse and counted in
sets of four. The result will give the
amount of the provisions. I do not recom-
mend this task to any one who is not en-
dowed with a good stock of patience, nor
above all to any one who does not start
with the conviction that results of great
interest are compatible with very piodest
means.

My inspection covers a total of one hun-
218

Rationing According to Sex

dred and thirty-six cells, which are divided

as in the table opposite :

2 cells each containing i Bee
52 " " " 2 Bees

36 " " " 3 "

36 " " " 4 "

I cell " " 6 *'

136

The Mantis-hunting Tachytes consumes
its heap of Mantes, the horny envelope in-
cluded, without leaving any remains but
scanty crumbs, quite insufficient to establish
the number of items provided. After the
meal is completed, any inventory of the ra-
tions becomes impossible. I therefore have
recourse to the cells which still contain the
egg or the very young larva and, above all,
to those whose provisions have been invaded
by a tiny parasitic Gnat, a Tachina,^ which
drains the game without cutting it up and
leaves the whole skin intact. Twenty-five
larders, put to the count, give me the follow-
ing result:

iCf. The Hunting Wasps: chaps, iv. and xvi. — Trans-
lator's Note.

219

More Hunting Wasps

items

8

cells

each

containing

3

((

((

((

5

4

4

u

((

((

6

((

((

((

3

7

2

((

((

((

8

I

cell

It

9

I

12

I

((

it

i(

i6

25

The predominant game is the Praying
Mantis, green; next comes the Grey Man-
tis, ash-coloured. A few Empusas make up
the total. The specimens vary in dimensions
within fairly elastic limits : I measure some
which are a third to a half inch long, aver-
aging two-thirds to one inch long, and some
which are two-fifths, averaging three
quarters. I see pretty plainly that their
number increases in proportion as their
size diminishes, as though the Tachytes were
seeking to make up for the smallness of the
game by increasing the amount; none the less
I find it quite impossible to detect the least
equivalence by combining the two factors
of number and size. If the huntress really
estimates the provisions, she does so very
roughly; her household accounts are not at

220

Rationing According to Sex

all well kept; each head of game, large or
small, must always count as one in her eyes.

Put on my guard, I look to see whether
the honey-gathering Bees have a double
service, like the game-hunting Wasps'. I
estimate the amount of honeyed paste; I
gauge the cups intended to contain it. In
many cases the result resembles the first ob-
tained: the abundance of provisions varies
from one cell to another. Certain Osmiae ^
(O. cornuta and O. tricornis) feed their
larvae on a heap of pollen-dust moistened in
the middle with a very little disgorged honey.
One of these heaps may be three or four
times the size of some other In the same
group of cells. If I detach from its pebble
the nest of the Mason-bee, the Challcodoma
of the Walls, I see cells of large capacity,
sumptuously provisioned; close beside these
I see others, of less capacity, with victuals
parsimoniously allotted. The fact is ge-
neral ; and it is right that we should ask our-
selves the reason for these marked differ-
ences in the relative quantity of foodstuffs
and for these unequal rations.

I at last began to suspect that this is first
and foremost a question of sex. In many

1 Cf. Bramble-bees and Others: passim; and, in par-
ticular, chaps, iii. to v. — Translator's Note.
221

More Hunting Wasps

Bees and Wasps, indeed, the male and the
female differ not only in certain details of
internal or external structure — a point of
view which does not affect the present pro-
blem — but also in length and bulk, which de-
pend in a high degree on the quantity of food.

Let us consider in particular the Bee-eat-
ing Philanthus. Compared with the female,
the male Is a mere abortion. I find that he Is
only a third to half the size of the other
sex, as far as I can judge by sight alone. To
obtain exactly the respective quantities of
substance, I should need delicate balances,
capable of weighing down to a milligramme.
My clumsy villager's scales, on which po-
tatoes may be weighed to within a kilo-
gramme or so, do not permit of this pre-
cision. I must therefore rely on the evi-
dence of my sight alone, evidence, for that
matter, which is amply sufficient In the pre-
sent instance. Compared with his mate, the
Mantis-hunting Tachytes is likewise a pigmy.
We are quite astonished to see him pester-
ing his giantess on the threshold of the bur-
rows.

We observe differences no less pronounced
of size — and consequently of volume, mass
and weight — In the two sexes of many Os-
miae. The differences are less emphatic, but

222

Rationing According to Sex

are still on the same side, in the Cerceres,
the Stizi, the Spheges, the Chalicodomae and
many more. It is therefore the rule that
the male is smaller than the female. There
are of course some exceptions, though not
many; and I am far from denying them. I
will mention certain Anthidia where the male
is the larger of the two. Nevertheless, in
the great majority of cases the female has
the advantage.

And this is as it should be. It is the
mother, the mother alone, who laboriously
digs underground galleries and chambers,
kneads the plaster for coating the cells,
builds the dwelling-house of cement and bits
of grit, bores the wood and divides the bur-
row into storeys, cuts the disks of leaf which
will be joined together to form honey-pots,
works up the resin gathered in drops from
the wounds in the pine-trees to build ceilings
in the empty spiral of a Snail-shell, hunts the
prey, paralyses it and drags it Indoors,
gathers the pollen-dust, prepares the honey
in her crop, stores and mixes the paste.
This severe labour, so imperious and so act-
ive, in which the insect's whole life is spent,
manifestly demands a bodily strength which
would be quite useless to the male, the
amorous trifler. Thus, as a general rule, in
223

More Hunting Wasps

the Insects which carry on an industry the
female is the stronger sex.

Does this preeminence imply more abund-
ant provisions during the larval stage, when
the insect is acquiring the physical growth
which it will not exceed in its future develop-
ment? Simple reflection supplies the an-
swer: yes, the aggregate growth has its
equivalent in the aggregate provisions.
Though so slight a creature as the male
Philanthus finds a ration of two Bees suffi-
cient for his needs, the female, twice or
thrice as bulky, will consume three to six
at least. If the male Tachytes requires
three Mantes, his consort's meal will demand
a batch of something like ten. With her
comparative corpulence, the female Osmla
will need a heap of paste twice or thrice as
great as that of her brother, the male. All
this is obvious ; the animal cannot make much
out of little.

Despite this evidence, I was anxious to
enquire whether the reality corresponded
with the previsions of the most elementary
logic. Instances are not unknown in which
the most sagacious deductions have been
found to disagree with the facts. During
the last few years, therefore, I have profited
by my winter leisure to collect, from spots
224

Rationing According to Sex

noted as favourable during the working-sea-
son, a few handfuls of cocoons of various
Digger-wasps, notably of the Bee-eating Phil-
anthus, who has just furnished us with an in-
ventory of provisions. Surrounding these
cocoons and thrust against the wall of the
cell were the remnants of the victuals —
wings, corselets, heads, wing-cases — a count
of which enabled me to determine how many
head of game had been provided for the
larva, now enclosed in its silken abode. I
thus obtained the correct list of provisions
for each of the huntress' cocoons. On the
other hand, I estimated the quantities of
honey, or rather I gauged the receptacles,
the cells, whose capacity is proportionate to
the mass of the provisions stored. After
making these preparations, registering the
cells, cocoons and rations and putting all my
figures in order, I had only to wait for the
hatching-season to determine the sex.

Well, I found that logic and experiment
were in perfect agreement. The Philanthus-
cocoons with two Bees gave me males, always
males; those with a larger ration gave me
females. From the Tachytes-cocoons with
double or treble" that ration I obtained fe-
males. When fed upon four or five Nut-
weevils, the Sand Cerceris was a male ; when
225

More Hunting Wasps

fed upon eight or ten, a female. In short,
abundant provisions and spacious cells yield
females; scanty provisions and narrow cells
yield males. This is a law upon which I
may henceforth rely.

At the stage which we have now reached
a question arises, a question of major im-
portance, touching the most nebulous aspect
of embryogeny. How is it that the larva
of the Philanthus, to take a particular case,
receives three to five Bees from its mother
when it is to become a female and not more
than two when it is to become a male?
Here the various head of game are iden-
tical in size, in flavour, in nutritive proper-
ties. The food-value is precisely in propor-
tion to the number of items supplied, a help-
ful detail which eliminates the uncertainties
wherein we might be left by the provision of
game of different species and varying sizes.
How is it, then, that a host of Bees and
Wasps, of honey-gatherers as well as hunt-
resses, store a larger or smaller quantity of
victuals in their cells according as the nurse-
lings are to become females or males?

The provisions are stored before the eggs
are laid; and these provisions are measured
by the needs of the sex of an egg still inside
226

Rationing According to Sex

the mother's body. If the egg-laying were
to precede the rationing, which occasionally
takes place, as with the Odyneri,^ for exam-
ple, we might imagine that the gravid mother
enquires into the sex of the egg, recognizes
it and stacks victuals accordingly. But,
whether destined to become a male or a fe-
male, the egg is always the same; the differ-
ences — and I have no doubt that there are
differences — are in the domain of the in-
finitely subtle, the mysterious, imperceptible
even to the most practised embryogenist.
What can a poor insect see — in the absolute
darkness of its burrow, moreover — where
science armed with optical instruments has
not yet succeeded in seeing anything? And
besides, even were it more discerning than
we are in these genetic obscurities, its visual
discernment would have nothing whereupon
to practise. As I have said, the egg is laid
only when the corresponding provisions are
stored. The meal is prepared before the
larva which is to eat it has come into the
world. The supply is generously calculated
by the needs of the coming creature; the
dining-room is built large or small to contain

1 Cf. The Hunting IV asps: chaps, ii. and viii. — Trans-
lator's Note.

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a giant or a dwarf still germinating in the
ovarian ducts. The mother, therefore,
knows the sex of her egg beforehand.

A strange conclusion, which plays havoc
with our current notions ! The logic of the
facts leads us to it directly. And yet it
seems so absurd that, before accepting it,
we seek to escape the predicament by an-
other absurdity. We wonder whether the
quantity of food may not decide the fate of
the egg, originally sexless. Given more
food and more room, the egg would become
a female; given less food and less room, it
would become a male. The mother, obey-
ing her instincts, would store more food in
this case and less in that; she would build
now a large and now a small cell; and the
future of the egg would be determined by
the conditions of food and shelter.

Let us make every test, every experiment,
down to the absurd: the crude absurdity of
the moment has sometimes proved to be the
truth of the morrow. Besides, the well-
known story of the Hive-bee should make us
wary of rejecting paradoxical suppositions.
Is it not by increasing the size of the cell,
by modifying the quality and quantity of the
food, that the population of a hive trans-
228

Rationing According to Sex

forms a worker larva into a female or royal
larva? It is true that the sex remains the
same, since the workers are only incompletely
developed females. The change is none the
less miraculous, so much so that it is almost
lawful to enquire whether the transformation
may not go further, turning a male, that
poor abortion, into a sturdy female by means
of a plentiful diet. Let us therefore resort
to experiment.

I have at hand some long bits of reed in
the hollow of which an Osmia, the Three-
horned Osmia, has stacked her cells, bounded
by earthen partitions. I have related else-
where ^ how I obtain as many of these nests
as I could wish for. When the reed is split
lengthwise, the cells come into view, together
with their provisions, the egg lying on the
paste, or even the budding larva. Observa-
tions multiplied ad nauseam have taught me
where to find the males and where the fe-
males in this apiary. The males occupy the
fore-part of the reed, the end next to the
opening; the females are at the bottom, next
to the knot which serves as a natural stop-
per to the channel. For the rest, the quan-

1 Cf. Bramble-bees and Others: chaps, ii. to v. — Trans-
lator's Note.

229

More Hunting Wasps

tity of the provisions in itself points to the
sex: for the females it is twice or thrice as
great as for the males.

In the scantily-provided cells, I double or
treble the ration with food taken from other
cells; in the cells which are plentifully sup-
plied, I reduce the portion to a half or a
third. Controls are left: that is to say,
some cells remain untouched, with their pro-
visions as I found them, both in the part
which is abundantly provided and in that
which is more meagrely rationed. The two
halves of the reed are then restored to their
original position and firmly bound with a few
turns of wire. We shall see, when the time
comes, whether these changes increasing or
decreasing the victuals have determined the
sex.

Here is the result: the cells which at first
were sparingly provided, but whose supplies
were doubled or trebled by my artifice, con-
tain males, as foretold by the original amount
of victuals. The surplus which I added has
not completely disappeared, far from it: the
larva has had more than it needed for its
evolution as a male; and, being unable to
consume the whole of its copious provisions,
it has spun its cocoon in the midst of the
remaining pollen-dust. These males, so
richly supplied, are of handsome but not ex-
230

Rationing According to Sex

aggerated proportions; you can see that the
additional food has profited them to some
small extent.

The cells with abundant provisions, re-
duced to a half or a third by my intervention,
contain cocoons as small as the male cocoons,
pale, translucent and limp, whereas the
normal cocoons are dark-brown, opaque and
firm to the touch. These, we perceive at
once, are the work of starved, anaemic
weavers, who, failing to satisfy their appe-
tite and having eaten the last grain of pollen,
have, before dying, done their best with their
poor little drop of silk. Those cocoons
which correspond with the smallest allowance
of food contain only a dead and shrivelled
larva; others, in whose case the provisions
were less markedly decreased, contain fe-
males in the adult form, but of very diminu-
tive size, comparable with that of the males,
or even smaller. As for the controls which
I was careful to leave, they confirm the fact
that I had males in the part near the orifice
of the reed and females in the part near the
knot closing the channel.

Is this enough to dispose of the very im-
probable supposition that the determination
of the sex depends on the quantity of food?
Strictly speaking, there is still one door open
231

More Hunting Wasps

to doubt. It may be said that experiment,
with its artifices, does not succeed in re-
alizing the delicate natural conditions. To
make short work of all objections, I cannot
do better than have recourse to facts in
which the experimenter's hand has not inter-
vened. The parasites will supply us with
these facts ; they will show us how alien the
quantity and even the quality of the food
are from either specific or sexual characters.
The subject of enquiry thus becomes double,
instead of single as it was when I plundered
one cell in my split reeds to enrich another.
Let us follow this double current for a little
while.

An Ammophila, the Silky Ammophila,^
which feeds on Looper caterpillars,^ has just
been reared in my refectory on Spiders. Re-
plete to the regulation point, it spins its co-
coon. What will emerge from this? If
the reader expects to see any modifications,
caused by a diet which the species, left to
itself, had never effected, let him be unde-
ceived and that quickly. The Ammophila
fed on Spiders is precisely the same as the

1 Cf. The Hunting Wasps: chaps, xiii. — Translator's
Note.

2 Known also as Measuring-worms, Inchworms, Span-
worms and Surveyors: the caterpillars of the Geometrid
Moths.— Translator's Note.

232

Rationing According to Sex

Ammophila fed on caterpillars, just as man
fed on rice is the same as man fed on wheat.
In vain I pass my lens over the product of
my art: I cannot distinguish it from the na-
tural product; and I defy the most meticu-
lous entomologist to perceive any difference
between the two. It is the same with my
other boarders who have had their diet al-
tered.

I see the objection coming. The differ-
ences may be inappreciable, for my experi-
ments touch only a first rung of the ladder.
What would happen if the ladder were pro-
longed, if the offspring of the Ammophila
fed on Spiders were given the same food
generation after generation? These differ-
ences, at first imperceptible, might become
accentuated until they grew into distinct spe-
cific characters; the habits and Instincts might
also change; and In the end the caterpillar-
huntress might become a Spider-huntress,
with a shape of her own. ( A species would
be created, for, among the factors at work
in the transformation of animals, the most
Important of all is incontestably the type of
food, the nature of the thing wherewith the
animal builds Itself. All this is much more
important than the trivialities which Darwin
relies upon."^

J 233

J

More Hunting Wasps

To create a species is magnificent in the-
ory, so that we find ourselves regretting that
the experimenter is not able to continue the
attempt. But, once the Ammophila has
flown out of the laboratory to slake her
thirst at the flowers in the neighbourhood,
just try to find her again and induce her to
entrust you with her eggs, which you would
rear In the refectory, to Increase the taste
for Spiders from generation to generation!
Merely to dream of it were madness. Shall
we, in our helplessness, admit ourselves
beaten by the evolutionary effects of diet?
Not a bit of it !• One experiment — and you
could not wish for a more decisive — is con-
tinually In progress, apart from all artifices,
on an enormous scale. It is brought to our
notice by the parasites.

They must, we are told, have acquired the
habit of living on others In order to save
themselves work and to lead an easier life.
The poor wretches have made a sorry blun-
der. Their Hfe is of the hardest. If a
few establish themselves comfortably, dearth
and dire famine await most of the rest.
There are some — look at certain of the
Oil-beetles — exposed to so many chances of
destruction that, to save one, they are
obliged to procreate a thousand. They sel-
234

Rationing According to Sex

dom enjoy a free meal. Some stray into the
houses of hosts whose victuals do not suit
them; others find only a ration quite insuffi-
cient for their needs; others — and these are
very numerous — find nothing at all. What
misadventures, what disappointments do
these needy creatures suffer, unaccustomed as
they are to work! Let me relate some of
their misfortunes, gleaned at random.

The Girdled Dioxys (D. cincta) loves the
ample honey-stores of the Chalicodoma of
the Pebbles. There she finds abundant
food, so abundant that she cannot eat it all.
I have already passed censure on this waste. ^
Now a little Osmia (O. cyanoxantha, P£
REZ) makes her nest in the Mason's de-
serted cells; and this Bee, a victim of her
ill-omened dwelling, also harbours the Di-
oxys. This is a manifest error on the para-
site's part. The nest of the Chalicodoma,
the hemisphere of mortar on its pebble, is
what she is looking for, to confide her eggs
to it. But the nest is now occupied by a
stranger, by the Osmia, a circumstance un-
known to the Dioxys, who comes steahng up
to lay her egg in the mother's absence. The
dome is familiar to her. She could not know
it better if she had built it herself. Here

1 Cf. The Mason-bees: chap. x. — Translator's Note,
235

More Hunting Wasps

she was born ; here is what her family wants.
Moreover, there is nothing to arouse her
suspicions: the outside of the home has not
changed its appearance in any respect; the
stopper of gravel and green putty, which
later will form a violent contrast with its
white front, is not yet constructed. She goes
in and sees a heap of honey. To her think-
ing this can be nothing but the Chalicodoma's
portion. We ourselves would be beguiled,
in the Osmia's absence. She lays her eggs
in this deceptive cell.

Her mistake, which is easy to understand,
does not in any way detract from her great
talents as a parasite, but it is a serious mat-
ter for the future larva. The Osmia, in
fact, in view of her small dimensions, collects
but a very scanty store of food : a little loaf
of pollen and honey, hardly the size of an
average pea. Such a ration is insufficient
for the Dioxys. I have described her as a
waster of food when her larva is established,
according to custom, in the cell of the Ma-
son-bee. This description no longer applies;
not in the very least. Inadvertently stray-
ing to the Osmia's table, the larva has no ex-
cuse for turning up its nose ; it does not leave
part of the food to go bad; it eats, up the
lot without having had enough.
236

Rationing According to Sex

This famine-stricken refectory can give us
nothing but an abortion. As a matter of
fact, the Dioxys subjected to this niggardly
test does not die, for the parasite must have
a tough constitution to enable it to face the
disastrous hazards which lie in wait for it;
but it attains barely half its ordinary dimen-
sions, which means one-eighth of its normal
bulk. To see it thus diminished, we are sur-
prised at its tenacious vitality, which en-
ables it to reach the adult form in spite of
the extreme deficiency of food. Meanwhile,
this adult is still the Dioxys; there is no
change of any kind in her shape or colouring.
Moreover, the two sexes are represented;
this family of pigmies has its males and fe-
males. Dearth and the farinaceous mess in
the Osmia's cell has had no more influence
over species or sex than abundance and flow-
ing honey in the Chalicodoma's home.

The same may be said of the Spotted
Sapyga (S. punctata) ,^ which, a parasite of
the Three-pronged Osmia, a denizen of the
bramble, and of the Golden Osmia, an oc-
cupant of empty Snail-shells, strays into the
house of the Tiny Osmia (O. parvula)^^

lA parasitic Wasp. Cf. The Mason-bees: chaps, ix.
and X. — Translator's Note.
2 This Bee makes her home in the brambles. Cf. Bram-

22,7

More Hunting Wasps

where, for lack of sufficient food, it does not
attain half its normal size.

A Leucospis ^ inserts her eggs through
the cement wall of our three Chalicodomae.
I know her under two names. When she
comes from the Chalicodoma of the Pebbles
or Walls, whose opulent larva saturates her
with food, she deserves by her large size the
name of Leucospis gigas, which Fabricius be-
stows upon her; when she comes from the
Chalicodoma of the Sheds, she deserves no
more than the name of L. grandis, which is
all that Klug grants her. With a smaller
ration " the giant " is to some degree di-
minished and becomes no more than " the
large." When she comes from the Chali-
codoma of the Shrubs, she is smaller still;
and, if some nomenclator were to seek to
describe her, she would no longer deserve
to be called more than middling. From di-
mension 2 she has descended to dimension i
without ceasing to be the same insect, despite
the change of diet; and at the same time
both sexes are present in the three nurs-
lings, despite the variation in the quantity of
victuals.

ble-divellers and Others: chaps, ii. and iii. — Translator's
Note.

1 Cf. The Mason-bees: chap. xi. — Translator's Note.

238

Rationing According to Sex

I obtain Anthrax sinuata ^ from various
bees' nests. When she issues from the co-
coons of the Three-horned Osmia, especially
the female cocoons, she attains the greatest
development that I know of. When she is-
sues from the cocoons of the Blue Osmia
(O. cyanea, KIRB.), she Is sometimes
hardly one-third the length which the other
Osmia gives her. And we still have the two
sexes — that goes without saying — and
still identically the same species.

Two Anthldia, working in resin, A. sep-
temdentatum, LATR., and A. bellicosum,
LEP.,2 establish their domicile In old Snail-'
shells. The second harbours the Burnt
Zonitis (Z. prceusta).^ Amply nourished
this Meloe then acquires her normal size, the
size in which she usually figures in the col-
lections. A like prosperity awaits her when
she usurps the provisions of Megachile seri-
cans^ But the imprudent creature some-
times allows itself to be carried away to the
meagre table of the smallest of our Anthldia

1 The Mason-bees: chaps, viii., x. and xi. — Translator's
Note.

" For these Resin-bees, cf. Bramble-bees and Others:
chap. X. — Translator's Note.

* Cf. The Gloiv-ivorm and Other Beetles: chap. vi. —
Translator's Note.

* For this Bee, the Silky Leaf-cutter, cf. Bramble-bees
end Others: chap. viii. — Translator's Note.

239

More Hunting Wasps

(//. scapulare, LATR.),* who makes her
nests in dry bramble-stems. The scanty fare
makes a wretched dwarf of the offspring be-
longing to either sex, without depriving them
of any of their racial features. We still
see the Burnt Zonitis, with the distinctive
sign of the species: the singed patch at the
tip of the wing-cases.

And the other Meloidae — Cantharides,
Cerocomae, Mylabres ^ — to what inequalities
of size are they not subject, irrespective of
sex! There are some — and they are nu-
merous — whose dimensions fall to a half, a
third, a quarter of the regular dimensions.
Among these dwarfs, these misbegotten
ones, these victims of atrophy, there are fe-
males as well as males; and their smallness
by no means cools their amorous ardour.
These needy creatures, I repeat, have a hard
life of it. Whence do they come, these di-
minutive Beetles, if not from dining-rooms
insufficiently supplied for their needs?
Their parasitical habits expose them to harsh
vicissitudes. No matter: in dearth as well
as in abundance the two sexes appear and
the specific features remain unchanged.

lA Cotton-bee, cf. idem: chap. ix. — Translator's Note.
2 For these Blister-beetles or Oil-beetles, cf. The Gloixi-
ivorm and Other Beetles: chap. vi. — Translator's Note.
240

Rationing According to Sex

It is unnecessary to linger longer over this
subject. The demonstration is completed.
The parasites tell us that changes in the
quantity and quality of food do not lead to
any transformation of species. Fed upon
the larva of the Three-horned Osmla or of
the Blue Osmla, Anthrax sinuata, whether of
handsome proportions or a dwarf, Is still
Anthrax sinuata; fed upon the allowance of
the Anthldlum of the empty Snail-shells, the
Anthldlum of the brambles, the Megachlle
or doubtless many others, the Burnt Zonitis
is still the Burnt Zonltls. Yet variation of
diet ought to be a very potential factor In
the problem of progress towards another
form. Is not the world of living creatures
ruled by the stomach? And the value of this
factor is unity, changing nothing in the pro-
duct.

The same parasites tell us — and this is
the chief object of my digression — that ex-
cess or deficiency of nutriment does not de-
termine the sex. So we are once more con-
fronted with the strange proposition, which
is now more positive than ever, that the in-
sect which amasses provisions in proportion
to the needs of the egg about to be laid
knows beforehand what the sex of this egg
will be. Perhaps the reality is even more
241

More Hunting Wasps

paradoxical still. I shall return to the sub-
ject after discussing the Osmiae, who are very
weighty witnesses in this grave affair.^

1 Cf. Bramble-bees and Others: chaps, iii. to v. The
student is recommended to read these three chapters in
conjunction with the present chapter, to which they form
a sequel, with that on the Osmiae (chap. ii. of the above
volume) intervening. — Translator's Note.

O/^'X

CHAPTER X

THE BEE-EATING PHILANTHUS

TO meet among the Wasps, those eager
lovers of flowers, a species that goes
hunting more or less on its own account is
certainly a notable event. That the larder
of the grub should be provided with prey is
natural enough ; but that the provider, whose
diet is honey, should herself make use of the
captives is anything but easy to understand.
We are quite astonished to see a nectar-
drinker become a blood-drinker. But our
astonishment ceases if we consider things
more closely. The double method of feed-
ing is more apparent than real: the crop
which fills itself with sugary liquid does not
gorge itself with game. The Odynerus,
when digging into the body of her prey, does
not touch the flesh, a fare absolutely scorned
as contrary to her tastes; she satisfies her-
self with lapping up the defensive drop which
the grub ^ distils at the end of its intestine.

1 The Larva of Chrysomela populi, the Poplar Leaf-
beetle. — Translator's Note.

2'43

More Hunting Wasps

This fluid no doubt represents to her some
highly-flavoured beverage with which she
seasons from time to time the staple diet
fetched from the drinking-bar of the flowers,
some appetizing condiment or perhaps —
who knows? — some substitute for honey.
Though the qualities of the delicacy escape
me, I at least perceive that the Odynerus
does not covet anything else. Once its jar
is emptied, the larva is flung aside as worth-
less offal, a certain sign of a non-carnivorous
appetite. Under these conditions, the per-
secutor of the Chrysomela ceases to surprise
us by indulging in the crying abuse of a
double diet.

We even begin to wonder whether other
species may not be inclined to derive a di-
rect advantage from the hunting imposed
upon them for the maintenance of the fam-
ily. The Odynerus' method of work, the
splitting open of the anal still-room, is too
far removed from the obvious procedure to
have many imitators; it is a secondary de-
tail and impracticable with a different kind
of game. But there is sure to be a certain
variety in the direct means of utilizing the
capture. Why, for instance, when the vic-
tim paralysed by the sting contains a deli-
cious broth in some part of its stomach,
244

The Bee-eating Philanthus

should the huntress scruple to violate her
dying prey and force it to disgorge without
injuring the quality of the provisions?
There must be those who rob the dead, at-
tracted not by the flesh but by the exquisite
contents of the crop.

In point of fact, there are; and they are
even numerous. We may mention in the
first rank the Wasp that hunts Hive-bees,
the Bee-eating Philanthus (P. aphorus,
LATR.). I long suspected her of perpe-
trating these acts of brigandage on her own
behalf, having often surprised her glutton-
ously licking the Bee's honey-smeared mouth;
I had an inkling that she did not always hunt
solely for the benefit of her larvae. The
suspicion deserved to be confirmed by ex-
periment. Also, I was engaged in another
investigation, which might easily be con-
ducted simultaneously with the one sug-
gested: I wanted to study, with all the lei-
sure of work done at home, the operating-
methods employed by the different Hunting
Wasps. I therefore made use, for the
Philanthus, of the process of experimenting
under glass which I roughly outlined when
speaking of the Odynerus. It was even the
Bee-huntress who gave me my first data in
this direction. She responded to my wishes
245

More Hunting Wasps

with such zest that I believed myself to pos-
sess an unequalled means of observing again
and again, even to excess, what is so difficult
to achieve on the actual spot. Alas, the first-
fruits of my acquaintance with the Philan-
thus promised me more than the future held
in store for me! But we will not antici-
pate ; and we will place the huntress and her
game together under the bell-glass. I
recommend this experiment to whoever
would wish to see with what perfection in
the art of attack and defence a Hunting
Wasp wields the stiletto. There is no un-
certainty here as to the result, there is no
long wait: the moment when she catches
sight of the prey in an attitude favourable
to her designs, the bandit rushes forward
and kills. I will describe how things hap-
pen.

I place under the bell-glass a Philanthus
and two or three Hive-bees. The prisoners
climb the glass wall, towards the light; they
go up, come down again and try to get out;
the vertical polished surface is to them a
practicable floor. They soon quiet down;
and the spoiler begins to notice her surround-
ings. The antennae are pointed forwards,
enquiringly; the hind-legs are drawn up with
a little quiver of greed in the tarsi; the head
246

The Bee-eating Philanthus

turns to right and left and follows the evo-
lutions of the Bees against the glass. The
miscreant's posture now becomes a striking
piece of acting: you can read in it the fierce
longings of the creature lying in ambush, the
crafty waiting for the moment to commit
the crime. The choice is made: the Philan-
thus pounces on her prey.

Turn by turn tumbling over and tumbled,
the two insects roll upon the ground. The
tumult soon abates; and the murderess pre-
pares to strangle her capture. I see her
adopt two methods. In the first, which is
more usual than the other, the Bee is lying
on her back; and the Philanthus, belly to
belly with her, grips her with her six legs
while snapping at her neck with her mandi-
bles. The abdomen is now curved forward
from behind, along the prostrate victim, feels
with its tip, gropes about a little and ends
by reaching the under part of the neck.
The sting enters, lingers for a moment in
the wound; and all is over. Without re-
leasing her prey, which is still tightly clasped,
the murderess restores her abdomen to its
normal position and keeps it pressed against
the Bee's.

In the second method, the Philanthus op-
erates standing. Resting on her hind-legs

2-17

More Hunting Wasps

and on the tips of her unfurled wings, she
proudly occupies an erect attitude, with the
Bee held facing her between her four front
legs. To give the poor thing a position
suited to receive the dagger-stroke, she turns
her round and back again with the rough
clumsiness of a child handling its doll. Her
pose is magnificent to look at. Solidly
planted on her sustaining tripod, the two
hinder tarsi and the tips of the wings, she
at last crooks her abdomen upwards and
again stings the Bee under the chin. The
originality of the Philanthus' posture at the
moment of the murder surpasses anything
that I have hitherto seen.

The desire for knowledge in natural his-
tory has its cruel side. To learn precisely
the point attacked by the sting and to make
myself thoroughly acquainted with the hor-
rible talent of the murderess, I have investi-
gated more assassinations under glass than
I would dare to confess. Without a single
exception, I have always seen the Bee stung
in the throat. In the preparations for the
final blow, the tip of the abdomen may well
come to rest on this or that point of the
thorax or abdomen; but it does not stop at
any of these, nor is the sting unsheathed, as
can readily be ascertained. Indeed, once
248

The Bee-eating Philanthus

the contest is opened, the Philanthus becomes
so entirely absorbed in her operation that
I can remove the cover and follow every
vicissitude of the tragedy with my pocket-
lens.

After recognizing the invariable position
of the wound, I bend back and open the
articulation of the head. I see under the
Bee's chin a white spot, measuring hardly a
twenty-fifth of an inch square, where the
horny integuments are lacking and the deli-
cate skin is shown uncovered. It is here,
always here, in this tiny defect in the armour,
that the sting enters. Why is this spot
stabbed rather than another? Can it be
the only vulnerable point, which would neces-
sarily determine the thrust of the lancet?
Should any one entertain so petty a thought,
I advise him to open the articulation of the
corselet, behind the first pair of legs. He
will there see what I see : the bare skin, quite
as fine as under the neck, but covering a
much larger surface. The horny breast-
plate offers no wider breach. If the Philan-
thus were guided in her operation solely by
the question of vulnerability, it is here cert-
ainly that she ought to strike, instead of per-
sistently seeking the narrow slit in the neck.
The weapon would not need to hesitate and
249

More Hunting Wasps

grope; it would obtain admission into the
tissues off-hand. No, the stroke of the lan-
cet is not forced upon it mechanically: the
assassin scorns the large defect in the corse-
let and prefers the place under the chin, for
eminently logical reasons which we will now
attempt to unravel.

Immediately after the operation I take the
Bee from the Philanthus. What strikes me
is the sudden inertia of the antennae and the
mouth-parts, organs which in the victims of
most of the Hunting Wasps continue to
move for so long a time. There are here
not any of the signs of Hfe to which I have
been accustomed in my old studies of insect
paralysis: the antennary threads waving
slowly to and fro, the palpi quivering, the
mandibles opening and closing for days,
weeks and months on end. At most, the
tarsi tremble for a minute or two; that con-
stitutes the whole death-struggle. Com-
plete immobility ensues. The inference
drawn from this sudden inertia is inevitable :
the Wasp has stabbed the cervical ganglia.
Hence the immediate cessation of movement
in all the organs of the head; hence the real
instead of the apparent death of the Bee.
The Philanthus is a butcher and not a para-
lyser.

250

The Bee-eating Philanthus

This is one step gained. The murderess
chooses the under part of the chin as the
point attacked in order to strike the princi-
pal nerve-centres, the cephalic ganglia, and
thus to da away with life at one blow. When
this vital seat is poisoned by the toxin, death
is instantaneous. Had the Philanthus' ob-
ject been simply to effect paralysis, the sup-
pression of locomotor movements, she would
have driven her weapon into the flaw in the
corselet, as the Cerceres do with the Wee-
vils, who are much more powerfully arm-
oured than the Bee. But her intention is to
kill outright, as we shall see presently; she
wants a corpse, not a paralytic patient.
This being so, we must agree that her op-
erating-method is supremely well-inspired:
our human murderers could achieve nothing
more thorough or immediate.

We must also agree that her attitude when
attacking, an attitude very different from
that of the paralysers, is infallible in its
death-dealing efficacy. Whether she deliver
her thrust lying on the ground or standing
erect, she holds the Bee in front of her,
breast to breast, head to head. In this pos-
ture all that she need do is to curve her
abdomen in order to reach the gap in the
neck and plunge the sting with an upward
251

More Hunting Wasps

slant into her captive's head. Suppose the
two insects to be gripping each other in the
reverse attitude, imagine the dirk to slant
slightly in the opposite direction; the results
would be absolutely different and the sting,
driven downwards, would pierce the first
thoracic ganglion and produce merely par-
tial paralysis. What skill, to sacrifice a
wretched Bee ! In what fencing-school was
the slayer taught her terrible upward blow
under the chin?

If she learnt it, how is it that her victim,
such a past mistress in architecture, such an
adept in socialistic polity, has so far learnt
no corresponding trick to serve in her own
defence? She is as powerful as her execu-
tioner; like the other, she carries a rapier,
an even more formidable one and more pain-
ful, at least to my fingers. For centuries
and centuries the Philanthus ha's been stor-
ing her away in her cellars; and the poor
innocent meekly submits, without being
taught by the annual extermination of her
race how to deliver herself from the ag-
gressor by a well-aimed thrust. I despair
of ever understanding how the assailant has
acquired her talent for inflicting sudden
death, when the assailed, who is better-armed
and quite as strong, wields her dagger any-
252

The Bee-eating Philanthus

how and therefore ineffectively. If the one
has learnt by prolonged practice in attack,
the other should also have learnt by pro-
longed practice in defence, for attack and
defence possess a like merit in the fight for
life. Among the theorists of the day, is
there one clear-sighted enough to solve the
riddle for us?

If so, I will take the opportunity of put-
ting to him a second problem that puzzles
me : the carelessness, nay, more, the stupidity
of the Bee in the presence of the Philanthus.
You would be inclined to think that the vic-
tim of persecution, learning gradually from
the misfortunes suffered by her family,
would show distress at the ravisher's ap-
proach and at least attempt to escape. In
my cages I see nothing of the sort. Once
the first excitement due to incarceration un-
der the bell-glass or the wire-gauze cover has
passed, the Bee seems hardly to trouble about
her formidable neighbour. I see one side
by side with the Philanthus on the same
honeyed thistle-head : assassin and future vic-
tim are drinking from the same flask. I see
some one who comes heedlessly to enquire
who that stranger can be, crouching in wait
on the table. When the spoiler makes her
rush, it is usually at a Bee who meets her
255

More Hunting Wasps

half-way and, so to speak, flings herself into
her clutches, either thoughtlessly or out of
curiosity. There is no wild terror, no sign
of anxiety, no tendency to make off. How
comes it that the experience of the ages,
that experience which, we are told, teaches
the animal so many things, has not taught
the Bee the first element of apiarian wis-
dom: a deep-seated horror of the Philan-
thus? Can the poor wretch take comfort
by relying on her trusty dagger? But she
yields to none in her ignorance of fencing;
she stabs without method, at random.
However, let us watch her at the supreme
moment of the killing.

When the ravisher makes play with her
sting, the Bee does the same with hers and
furiously. I see the needle now moving this
way or that way in space, now slipping, vio-
lently curved, along the murderess' convex
surface. These sword-thrusts have no seri-
ous results. The manner in which the two
combatants are at grips has this effect, that
the Philanthus' abdomen is inside and the
Bee's outside. The latter's sting therefore
finds under its point only the dorsal surface
of the foe, a convex, slippery surface and so
well armoured as to be almost invulnerable.
There is here no breach into which the
254

The Bee-eating Philanthus

weapon can slip by accident; and so the
operation is conducted with absolute surgical
safety, notwithstanding the indignant pro-
tests of the patient.

After the fatal stroke has been adminis-
tered, the murderess remains for a long time
belly to belly with the dead, for reasons
which we shall shortly perceive. There may
now be some danger for the Philanthus.
The attitude of attack and defence is aban-
doned; and the ventral surface, more vulner-
able than the other, is within reach of the
sting. Now the deceased still retains the
reflex use of her weapon for a few minutes,
as I learnt to my cost. Having taken the
Bee too early from the bandit and handling
her without suspecting any risk, I received
a. most downright sting. Then how does the
Philanthus, in her long contact with the but-
chered Bee, manage to protect herself against
that lancet, which is bent upon avenging the
murder? Is there any chance of a commu-
tation of the death-penalty? Can an acci-
dent ever happen in the Bee's favour? Per-
haps.

One incident strengthens my faith in this

perhaps. I had placed four Bees and as

many Eristales under the bell-glass at the

same time, with the object of estimating the

255

More Hunting Wasps

Philanthus' entomological knowledge in the
matter of the distinction of species. Recip-
rocal quarrels break out in the mixed co-
lony. Suddenly, in the midst of the fray, the
killer is killed. She tumbles over on her
back, she waves her legs; she is dead. Who
struck the blow? It was certainly not the
excitable but pacific Drone-fly; it was one of
the Bees, who struck home by accident du-
ring the thick of the fight. Where and how?
I cannot tell. The incident occurs only once
in my notes, but it throws a light upon the
question. The Bee is capable of withstand-
ing her adversary; she can then and there
slay her would-be slayer with a thrust of the
sting. That she does not defend herself to
better purpose, when she falls into her ene-
my's clutches, is due to her ignorance- of
fencing and not to the weakness of her
weapon. And here again arises, more in-
sistently than before, the question which I
asked above: how is it that the Philanthus
has learnt for offensive what the Bee has
not learnt for defensive purposes? I see
but one answer to the difficulty: the one
knows without having learnt; the other doesf
not know because she is incapable of learn-
ing.

Let us now consider the motives that in-
256

The Bee-ea.ting Philanthus

duce the Philanthus to kill her Bee instead
of paralysing her. When the crime has been
perpetrated, she manipulatesf her dead vic-
tim without letting go of it for a moment,
holding its belly pressed against her own six
legs. I see her recklessly, very recklessly,
rooting with her mandibles in the articula-
tion of the neck, sometimes also in the larger
articulation of the corselet, behind the first
pair of legs, an articulation af whose delicate
membrane she Is perfectly well aware, even
though, when using her sting, she did not
take advantage of this point, which is the
most readily accessible of all. I see her
rough-handling the Bee's belly, squeezing it
against her own abdomen, crushing it in the
press. The recklessness of the treatment is
striking; it shows that there Is no need for
keeping up precautions. The Bee Is a
corpse; and a little hustling here and there
will not deteriorate its quahty, provided
there be no effusion of blood. In point of
fact, however rough the handling, I fail to
discover the slightest wound.

These various manipulations, especially
the squeezing of the neck, at once bring about
the desired results: the honey In the crop
mounts to the Bee's throat. I see the tiny
drops spurt out, lapped up by the glutton as
257

More Hunting Wasps

soon as they appear. The bandit greedily,
over and over again, takes the dead insect's
lolling, sugared tongue into her mouth; then
she once more digs into the neck and thorax,
subjecting the honey-bag to the renewed
pressure of her abdomen. The' syrup comes
and is instantly lapped up and lapped up
again. In this way the contents of the crop
are exhausted in small mouthfuls, yielded
one at a time. This odious meal at the ex-
pense of a corpse's stomach is taken in a
sybaritic attitude; the Philanthus lies on her
side with the Bee between her legs. The
atrocious banquet sometimes lasts for half
an hour or longer. At last the drained Bee
is discarded, not without regret, it seems,
for from time to time I see the manipulation
renewed. After taking a turn round the
top of the bell-jar, the robber of the dead
returns to her prey and squeezes it, licking
its mouth until the last trace of honey has
disappeared.

This frenzied passion of the Philanthus
for the Bee's syrup is declared in yet an-
other fashion. When the first victim has
been sucked dry, I slip under the glass a
second victim, which is promptly stabbed
under the chin and then subjected to press-
ure to extract the honey. A third follows
258

The Bee-eating Philanthus

and undergoes the same fate without satis-
fying the bandit. I offer a fourth and a
fifth. They are all accepted. My notes
mention one Philanthus who In front of my
eyes sacrificed six Bees In succession and
squeezed out their crops in the regulation
manner. The slaughter came to an end not
because the glutton was sated but because
my functions as a purveyor were becoming
rather difficult: the dry month of August
causes the Insects to, avoid my harmas, which
at this season Is denuded of flowers. Six
crops emptied of their honey: what an orgy!
And even then the ravenous creature would
very likely not have scorned a copious addi-
tional course, had I possessed the means of
supplying It!

There is no reason to regret this break
In the service; the little that I have said is
more than enough to prove the singular
characteristics of the Bee-slayer. I am far
from denying that the Philanthus has an hon-
est means of earning her livelihood; I find
her working on the flowers as assiduously as
the other Wasps, peacefully drawing her
honeyed beakers. The males even, possess-
ing no lancet, know no other manner of re-
freshment. The mothers, without neglect-
ing the table d'hote of the flowers, support
259

More Hunting Wasps

themselves by brigandage as well. We are
told of the Skua, that pirate of the seas, that
he swoops down upon the fishing birds, at
the moment when they rise from the water
with a capture. With a blow of the beak
delivered in the pit of the stomach he makes
them give up their prey, which is caught by
the robber in mid-air. The despoiled bird
at least gets off with nothing worse than a
contusion at the base of the throat. The
Philanthus, a less scrupulous pirate, pounces
on the Bee, stabs her to death and makes
her disgorge in order to feed upon her honey.
I say feed and I do not withdraw the word.
To support my statement I have better rea-
sons than those set forth above. In the
cages in which various Hunting Wasps, whose
stratagems of war I am engaged in studying,
are waiting till I have procured the desired
prey — not always an easy thing — I have
planted a few flower-spikes, a thistle-head or
two, on which are placed drops of honey
renewed at need. Here my captives come
to take their meals. With the Philanthus,
the provision of honeyed flowers, though fa-
vourably received, is not indispensable. I
have only to let a few live Bees into her cage
from time to time. Half a dozen a day is
about the proper allowance. With no other
260

The Bee-eating Philanthus

food than the syrup extracted from the slain,
I keep my insects going for a fortnight or
three weeks.

It is as plain as a pikestaff: outside my
cages, when the opportunity offers, the Phi-
lanthus must also kill the Bee on her own ac-
count. The Odynerus asks nothing from
the Chrysomela but a mere condiment, the
aromatic juice of the rump; the other ex-
tracts from her victim an ample supplement
to her victuals, the crop full of honey. What
a hecatomb of Bees must not a colony of
these freebooters make for their personal
consumption, not to mention the stored pro-
visions! I recommend the Philanthus to
the signal vengeance of our Bee-masters.

Let us go no deeper into the first causes of
the crime. Let us accept things as we know
them for the moment, with their apparent
or real atrocity. To feed herself, the Phi-
lanthus levies tribute on the Bee's crop.
Having made sure of this, let us consider the
bandit's method more closely. She does
not paralyse her capture according to the
rites customary among the Hunting Wasps;
she kills it. Why kill it? If the eyes
of our understanding be not closed, the
need for sudden death is clear as daylight.
The Philanthus proposes to obtain the hon-
261

More Hunting Wasps

eyed broth without ripping up the Bee, a
proceeding which would damage the game
when it is hunted on behalf of the larvae,
without resorting to the murderous extirpa-
tion of the crop. She must, by able han-
dling, by skilful pressure, make the Bee dis-
gorge, she must milk her, in a manner of
speaking. Suppose the Bee stung behind
the corselet and paralysed. That deprives
her of her power of locomotion, but not of
her vitality. The digestive organs in parti-
cular retain or very nearly retain their norm-
al energy, as is proved by the frequent ex-
cretions that take place In the paralysed prey,
so long as the intestine is not empty, as is
proved above all by the victims of the Lan-
guedocian Sphex,^ those helpless creatures
which I used to keep alive for forty days on
end with a soup consisting of sugar and wa-
ter. It is absurd to hope, without therapeu-
tic means, without a special emetic, to coax
a sound stomach into emptying Its contents.
The stomach of the Bee, who is jealous of
her treasure, would lend itself to the process
even less readily than another. When para-
lysed, the insect is inert; but there are always
internal energies and organic forces which
will not yield to the manipulator's pressure.

1 Cf. The Hunting Wasp: chaps, viii. to x. — Trans-
lator's Note.

262

The Bee-eating Philanthus

The Philanthus will nibble at the throat and
squeeze the sides in vain: the honey will not
rise to the mouth so long as a vestige of life
keeps the crop closed.

Things are different with a corpse. The
tension is relaxed, the muscles become slack,
the resistance of the stomach ceases and the
bag of honey is emptied by the robber's vig-
orous presure. You see, therefore, that the
Philanthus is expressly obliged to inflict a
sudden death, which will do away at once
with the elasticity of the organs. Where is
the lightning stroke to be delivered? The
slayer knows better than we do, when she
sticks the Bee under the chin. The cerebral
ganglia are reached through the little hole
in the neck and death ensues immediately.

The relation of thesfc acts of brigandage
cannot satisfy my distressing habit of follow-
ing each reply obtained with a fresh quest-
ion, until the granite wall of the unknowable
rises before me. If the Philanthus is an ex-
pert in killing Bees and emptying crops
swollen with honey, this cannot be merely an
alimentary resource, especially when, in com-
mon with the others, she has the banqueting-
hall of the flowers. I cannot accept her
atrocious talent as inspired merely by the
craving for a feast obtained at the expense
263

More Hunting Wasps

of an emptied stomach. Something cert-
ainly escapes us: the why and wherefore of
that crop drained dry. A creditable motive
may lie hidden behind the horrors which I
have related. What is it?

Any one can understand the vagueness of
the observer's mind when he first asks him-
self this question. The reader is entitled to
be treated with consideration. I will spare
him the recital of my suspicions, my gropings
and my failures and will come straight to the
results of my long investigation. Every-
thing has its harmonious reason for existence.
I am too fully persuaded of this to believe
that the Philanthus pursues her habit of pro-
faning corpses solely to satisfy her greed.
What does the emptied crop portend? May
it not be that . . . ? Why, yes. . . . After
all, who knows ? . . . Let us try along these
lines.

The mother's first care is the welfare of
the family. So far, we have seen the Phi-
lanthus hunting only for her stomach's sake;
let us watch her hunting as a mother. No-
thing is easier than to distinguish the two per-
formances. When the Wasp wants a few
good mouthfuls and nothing more, she scorn-
fully abandons the Bee after'picking her crop.
The Bee is to her a worthless remnant,
264

The Bee-eating Philanthus

which will shrivel where it lies and be dis-
sected by the Ants. If, on the other hand,
she wants to stow away the Bee as a provi-
sion for her larvae, she clasps her in her two
intermediate legs and, walking on the other
four, goes round and round the edge of the
bell-glass, seeking for an outlet through
which to fly off with her prey. When she
recognizes the circular track as impossible,
she climbs up the sides, this time holding the
Bee by the antennae with her mandibles and
clinging to the polished and perpendicular
surface with her six feet. She reaches the
top of the glass, stays for a little while in
the hollow of the knob at the top, returns to
the ground, resumes her circling and her
climbing and does not decide to relinquish
her Bee until she has stubbornly attempted
every means of escape. This persistence on
her part to retain her hold on the cumbrous
burden tells us pretty plainly that the game
would go straight to the cells if the Philan-
thus had her liberty.

Well, these Bees intended for the larvae are
stung under the chin like the others ; they are
real corpses ; they are manipulated, squeezed,
drained of their honey exactly as the others
are. In all these respects, there is no differ-
ence between the hunt conducted to provide
265

More Hunting Wasps

food for the larvae and the hunt conducted
merely to gratify the mother's appetite.

As the worries of captivity might well be
the cause of a few anomalies in the insect's
actions, I felt that I ought to enquire how
things happen in the open. I lay in wait
near some colonies of Philanthi, for longer
perhaps than the question deserved, as it
had already been settled by what had hap-
pened under glass. My tedious watches
were rewarded from time to time. Most of
the huntresses returned home immediately,
with the Bee under their abdomen; some
halted on the brambles hard by; and here
I saw them squeezing the dead Bee and mak-
ing her disgorge the honey, which was greed-
ily lapped up. After these preliminaries the
corpse was stored. Every doubt is there-
fore removed: the provisions of the larva
are first carefully drained of their honey.

Since we are on the spot, let us prolong
our stay and enquire into the customs of the
Philanthus in a state of liberty. Serving
dead prey, which goes bad in a few days, the
Bee-huntress cannot adopt the method of
certain insects which paralyse a number of
separate heads of game and fill the cell with
provisions, completing the ration before lay-
ing the egg. She needs the method of the
266

The Bee-eating Philanthus

Bembex, whose larva receives the necessary
nourishment at intervals, as it grows larger.
The facts confirm this deduction. Just now
I described as tedious my watches near the
colonies of the Phllanthi. They were te-
dious in fact, even more so perhaps than
those which the Bembeces used to inflict upon
me in the old days. Outside the burrows
of the Great Cerceris and other Weevil-
lovers, outside those of the Yellow-winged
Sphex, the Cricket-slayer, there is plenty of
distraction, thanks to the bustling movement
of the hamlet. The mother has hardly come
back home before she goes out again, soon
returning laden with a new prey and once
more setting out upon the chase. The go-
ing and coming is repeated at close intervals
until the warehouse is full.

The burrow of the Philanthus is far from
showing any such animation, even in a popu-
lous colony. In vain were my watches pro-
longed for whole mornings or afternoons; it
was but very rarely that the mother whom
I had seen go in with a Bee came out again
for a second expedition. Two captures at
most by the same huntress was all that I
was able to see during my long vigils. Feed-
ing from day to day involves this delibera-
tion. Once the family is supplied with a
267

More Hunting Wasps

sufficient ration for the moment, the. mother
suspends her hunting-trips until further need
arises and occupies herself with mining-work
in her underground house. Cells are dug;
I see the rubbish gradually pushed up to the
surface. Beyond this there is not a sign of
activity; it is as though the burrow were
deserted.

The inspection of the site is no easy mat-
ter. The shaft descends to a depth of nearly
three feet in a compact soil, either vertically
or horizontally. The spade and pick,
wielded by stronger but less expert hands
than mine, are indispensable, for which rea-
son the process of excavation is far from
satisfying me fully. At the end of this long
tunnel, which the straw which I use for
sounding despairs of ever reaching, the cells
are at last encountered, oval cavities with a
horizontal major axis. Their number and
general arrangement escape me.

Some of them already contain the cocoon,
which is slender and semitransparent, like
those of the Cerceris, and, like them, sug-
gests the shape of certain homoeopathic
phials, with oval bellies surmounted by a
tapering neck. The cocoon is fastened to
the end of the cell by the tip of this neck,
which is darkened and hardened by the
268

The Bee-eating Philanthus

larva's excrement; it has no other support.
It looks like a short club fixed by the end
of the handle along the horizontal axis of
the nest. Other cells contain the larva in a
more or less advanced stage. The grub is
munching the last morsel served to it, with
the scraps of the victuals already consumed
lying around it. Others lastly show me a
Bee, one only, still untouched and bearing an
egg laid on her breast. This is the first par-
tial ration; the others will come as and when
the grub grows larger. My anticipations
are thus confirmed: following the example
of the Bembeces, the Fly-killers, the Phi-
lanthus, the Bee-killer, lays her egg on the
first piece warehoused and at intervals adds
to her nurselings' repast.

The problem of the dead game is solved.
There remains this other problem, one of in-
comparable interest: why are the Bees robbed
of their honey before being served to the
larvsE? I have said and I say again that the
killing and squeezing cannot be explained
and excused simply by reference to the Phi-
lanthus' love of gormandizing. Robbing
the worker of her booty is nothing out of
the way: we see it daily; but cutting her
throat in order to empty her stomach is
going beyond a joke. And, as the Bees
269

More Hunting Wasps

packed away in the cellar are squeezed dry
just as much as the others, the thought oc-
curs to my mind that a rumpsteak with jam
is not to everybody's liking and that the
game stuffed with honey might well be a dis-
tasteful or even unwholesome dish for the
Philanthus' larvas. What will the grub do
when, sated with blood and meat, it finds
the Bee's honey-bag under its mandibles and
especially when, nibbling at random, it rips
open the crop and spoils its venison with
syrup? Will it thrive on the mixture?
Will the little ogre pass without repugnance
from the gamy flavour of a carcass to the
scent of flowers? A blunt statement or
denial would serve no purpose. We must
see. Let us see.

I rear some young Philanthus-grubs,
already waxing large; but, instead of sup-
plying them with the prey taken from the
burrows, I give them game of my own catch-
ing, game replete with nectar from the rose-
maries. My Bees, whom I kill by crush-
ing their heads, are readily accepted; and I
at first see nothing that corresponds with
my suspicions. Then my nurselings languish,
disdain their food, give a careless bite here
and there and end by perishing, from the
first to the last, beside their unfinished vic-
270

The Bee-eating Philanthus

tuals. All my attempts miscarry : I do not
once succeed in rearing my larvae to the stage
of spinning the cocoon. And yet I am no
novice in the functions of a foster-father.
How many pupils have not passed through
my hands and reached maturity in my old
sardine-boxes as comfortably as in their na-
tural burrows I

I will not draw rash conclusions from this
check; lam conscientious enough to ascribe it
to another cause. It may be that the at-
mosphere of my study and the dryness of
the sand serving as a bed have had a bad
effect on my charges, whose tender skins are
accustomed to the warm moisture of the
subsoil. Let us therefore try another ex-
pedient.

It is hardly feasible to decide positively
by the methods which I have been following
whether the honey is or is not repugnant to
the grubs of the Philanthus. The first
mouthfuls consist of meat; and then nothing
particular occurs : it is the natural diet. The
honey is met with later, when the morsel has
been largely bitten into. If hesitation and
lack of appetite are displayed at this stage,
they come too late in the day to be conclu-
sive: the larva's discomfort may be due to
other, known or unknown, causes. The
271

More Hunting Wasps

thing to do would be to offer the grub honey
from the first, before artificial rearing has
affected its appetite. It is useless, of course,
to make the attempt with pure honey: no car-
nivorous creature would touch it, though It
were starving. The jam-sandwich is the
only device favourable to my plans, a meagre
jam-sandwich, that is to say, the dead Bee
lightly smeared or varnished with honey by
means of a camel's-hair pencil.

Under these conditions, the problem is
solved with the first few mouthfuls. The
grub that has bitten into the honeyed prey
draws back In disgust, hesitates a long time
and then, urged by hunger, begins again,
tries this side and that and ends by refusing
to touch the dish. For a few days It pines
away on top of Its almost Intact provisions;
then it dies. All that are subjected to this
regimen succumb. Do they merely perish of
inanition in the presence of an unaccustomed
food, which revolts their appetite, or are
they poisoned by the small quantity of honey
absorbed with the early mouthfuls? I can-
not tell. The fact remains that, whether
poisonous or repugnant, the Bee In the state
of bread and jam is death to them; and this
result explains, more clearly than the un-
272

The Bee-eating Philanthus

favourable circumstance of my former ex-
periment, my failures with the Bee that had
not been made to disgorge.

This refusal to touch the unwholesome or
distasteful honey is connected with princi-
ples of nutrition which are too general to
constitute a gastronomic peculiarity of the
Philanthus. The other carnivorous larvae,
at least in the order of the Hymenoptera, are
bound to share it. Let us try. We will go
to work as before. I unearth the larvae
when they have attained a medium size, to
avoid the weakness of infancy; I take away
the natural provisions, smear the carcases
separately with honey and, when this is done,
restore its victuals to each of the grubs. I
had to make a choice: not every subject was
equally suited to my experiments. I must
reject the larvae which are fed on one fat
joint, such as those of the Scolia. The grub
in fact attacks its prey at a determined point,
dips its head and neck into the insect's body,
rooting skilfully in the entrails to keep the
game fresh until the end of the meal, and
does not withdraw from the breach until the
whole skin is emptied of its contents.

To make it let go with the object of coat-
ing the inside of the venison with honey had
273

More Hunting Wasps

two drawbacks: I should be compromising
the lingering vitality which saves the insect
that is being devoured from going bad and,
at the same time, I should be disturbing the
delicate art of the devouring insect, which,
if removed from the lode which it was work-
ing, would no longer be able to recover it
or to distinguish between the lawful and the
unlawful morsels. The larva of the Scolia,
consuming its Cetonia-grub, has taught us all
that we want to know on this subject in my
earlier volume.^ The only acceptable larvae
are those supplied with a heap of small in-
sects, which are attacked without any spe-
cial art, dismembered at random and eaten
up quickly. Among these I have tested such
as chance threw in my way: those of various
Bembeces, all fed on Flies; those of the Pa-
larus, whose bill of fare consists of a very
large assortment of Hymenoptera; those of
the Tarsal Tachytes, supplied with young
Locusts; those of the Nest-building Odyne-
rus, furnished with Chrysomela-grubs; those
of the Sand Cerceris, endowed with a pinch
of Weevils. A goodly variety, as you see,
of consumers and consumed. Well, to all of

1 Chapters II. to V. of the present volume contain the
whole of the matter referred to above. — Translator's Note.
274

The Bee-eating Philanthus

these the seasoning with honey proved fatal.
Whether poisoned or disgusted, they all died
in a few days.

A strange result indeed ! Honey, the nec-
tar of the flowers, the sole diet of the Bee-
tribe in both its forms and the sole resource
of the Wasp in her adult form, is to the
larva3 of the latter an object of insurmount-
able repugnance and probably a toxic dish.
Even the transformation of the nymphosis
surprises me less than this inversion of the
appetite. What happens in the insect's
stomach to make the adult seek passionately
what the youngster refused lest it should
die? This is not a question of organic de-
bility unable to endure a too substantial, too
hard, too highly spiced dish. The grub that
gnaws the Cetonia-larva, that generous piece
of butcher's meat; the glutton that crunches
its batch of tough Locusts; the one that bat-
tens on nitrobenzine-flavoured game: they
certainly own unfastidious gullets and ac-
commodating stomachs. And these robust
eaters allow themselves to die of hunger or
digestive troubles because of a drop of syrup,
the lightest food imaginable, suited to the
weakness of extreme youth and a feast for
the adult besides ! What a gulf of obscurity
in the stomach of a wretched grub I
275

More Hunting Wasps

These gastronomical researches called
for a counterexperiment. The carnivorous
larva is killed by honey. Conversely, is the
mellivorous larva killed by animal food?
Reservations are needful here, as in the pre-
vious tests. We should be courting a flat
refusal if we offered a pinch of Locusts to
the larvae of the Anthophora or the Osmia,^
for instance. The honey-fed insect would
not bite into it. There would be no use
whatever in trying. We must find the equiv-
alent of the jam-sandwich aforesaid; in
other words, we must give the larva its natur-
al fare with a mixture of animal food. The
addition made by my artifices shall be albu-
men, as found in the egg of the Hen, albu-
men the isomer of fibrin, which is the essen-
tial factor in any form of prey.

On the other hand, the Three-horned Os-
mia lends herself most admirably to my
plans, because of her dry honey, consisting
for the greater part of floury pollen. I
therefore knead this honey with albumen,
graduating the dose until its weight largely
exceeds that of the flour. In this way I
obtain pastes of different degrees of con-
sistency, but all firm enough to bear the larva

1 For both these Wild Bees cf. Bramble-bees and
Others: passim. — Translator's Note.
276

The Bee-eating Philanthus

without danger of immersion. With too
fluid a mixture there would be a risk of death
by drowning. Lastly I install a moderately-
developed larva on each of my albuminous
cakes.

The dish of my inventing does not incite
dislike: far from it. The grubs attack it
without hesitation and consume it with every
appearance of the usual appetite. Things
could not go better if the food had not been
altered by my culinary recipes. Everything
goes down, including the morsels in which
I feared that I had overdone the addition
of albumen. And — an even more import-
ant point — the Osmia-larvae fed in this
manner attain their normal dimensions and
spin their cocoons, from which adult insects
issue in the following year. Notwithstand-
ing the albuminous regimen, the cycle of the
evolution is achieved without impediment.

What are we to conclude from all this?
I feel greatly embarrassed. Omne vivum
ex ovo, the physiologists tell us. Every ani-
mal is carnivorous, in its first beginnings: it
is formed and nourished at the cost of its
egg, in which albumen predominates. The
highest, the mammal, adheres to this diet for
a long time : it has its mother's milk, rich in
casein, another isomer of albumen. The
277

More Hunting Wasps

gramnivorous nestling is first fed on grubs,
which are better adapted to the niceties of
its stomach; many of the minutest new-born
creatures, being at once left to their own de-
vices, take to animal food. In this way the
original method of nourishment is continued
for all alike: the method which allows flesh
to be made from flesh and blood from blood,
with no chemical process beyond the simplest
modification. At maturity, when the stom-
ach has acquired its full strength, vegetable
food is adopted, involving a more compli-
cated chemistry but easier to obtain. Milk
is followed by fodder, worms by seeds, the
prey in the burrow by the nectar of the flow-
ers.

This supplies a partial explanation of the
twofold diet of the Hymenoptera with car-
nivorous larvae : meat first, honey next. But
then the note of interrogation is shifted. It
stood elsewhere; it now stands here. Why
is the Osmia, who as a larva fares so well
on albumen, fed on honey at the start?
Why do the Bee-tribe receive a vegetable
diet when the other members of the order
receive an animal diet?

If I were a believer in evolution, I should
say yes, by the fact of its germ, every animal
is originally carnivorous. The insect in par-
278

The Bee-eating Philanthus

ticular starts with albuminoid materials.
Many larvae adhere to the -gg-food, many
adult insects do likewise. But the struggle
to fill the belly, which after all is the strug-
gle for life, demands something better than
the precarious hazards of the chase. Man,
at first a ravenous hunter after game,
brought the flock into existence and turned
shepherd to avoid a time of dearth. An
even greater progress inspired him to scrape
the earth and to sow seed, which assures
him of a living. The evolution from scarcity
to moderation and from moderation to plenty
has led to the resources of husbandry.

The animals forestalled us this path of
progress. The ancestors of the Philanthus,
in the remote ages of the lacustri?n tertiary
formations, lived by prey in both the larval
and the adult forms : they hunted for them-
selves as well as for the family. They did
not confine themselves to emptying the Bee's
crop, as their descendants do to this day:
they devoured the deceased. From the be-
ginning to the end they remained flesh-eaters.
Later, fortunate innovators, whose race sup-
planted the laggards, discovered an inex-
haustible nourishment, obtained without
dangerous conflicts or laborious search: the
sugar}^ secretions of the flowers. The costly

279

More Hunting Wasps

habit of living on prey, which does not fa-
vour large populations, was maintained for
the feeble larvae; but the vigorous adult
broke herself of it to lead an easier and more
prosperous life. Thus, gradually, was
formed the Phllanthus of our day; thus was
acquired the twofold diet of the various
predatory insects our contemporaries.

The Bee has done better still: from the
moment of leaving the egg she delivered
herself completely from food-stuffs the ac-
quisition of which depended on chance.
She discovered honey, the grubs' food. Re-
nouncing the chase for ever and becoming an
agriculturist pure and simple, the insect at-
tains a degree of physical and moral pros-
perity which the predatory species are far
from sharing. Hence the flourishing col-
onies of the Anthophorae, the Osmlas, the
Eucerae,^ the Hallcti and other honey-manu-
facturers, whereas the predatory Insects
work In Isolation; hence the societies in which
the Bee displays her wonderful tendencies,
the supreme expression of instinct.

This Is what I should say If I belonged to
that school. It all forms a chain of very
logical deductions and proffers itself with a

1 A genus of long-horned Burrowing Bees. — Trans-
lator's Note.

280

The Bee-eating Philanthus

certain air of likelihood which we should be
glad to find in a host of evolutionist argu-
ments put forward as irrefutable. Well, I
will make a present of my deductive views,
without regret, to whoever cares to have
them: I don't believe one word of them;
and I confess my profound ignorance of the
origin of the twofold diet.

What I do understand more clearly, after
all these investigations, is the tactics of the
Philanthus. When witnessing her ferocious
feasting, the real reason of which was un-
known to me, I heaped the most ill-sounding
epithets upon her, calling her a murderess,
a bandit, a pirate, a robber of the dead.
Ignorance is always evil-tongued ; the man
who does not know indulges in rude asser-
tions and mischievous interpretations. Now
that my eyes have been opened to the facts,
I hasten to apologize and to restore the Phi-
lanthus to her place in my esteem. In drain-
ing the crops of her Bees the mother is per-
forming the most praiseworthy of all ac-
tions: she is protecting her family against
poison. If she happens to kill on her own
account and to abandon the corpse after mak-
ing it disgorge, I dare not reckon this against
her as a crime. When the habit has been
formed of emptying the Bee's crop with a
261

More Hunting Wasps

good motive, there is a great temptation to
do it again with no other excuse than hunger.
Besides, who knows? Perhaps there is al-
ways at the back of her hunting some thought
of game which might be useful for the larvae.
Although not carried into effect, the inten-
tion excuses the deed.

I therefore withdraw my epithets in order
to admire the insect's maternal logic and to
hold it up to the admiration of others. The
honey would be pernicious to the health of
the larvae. How does the mother know that
the syrup, a treat for her, is unwholesome
for her young? To this question our sci-
ence offers no reply. The honey, I say,
would Imperil the grubs' lives. The Bee
must therefore first be made to disgorge.
The disgorging must be effected without
lacerating the victim, which the nurseling
must receive In the fresh state; and the
operation is impracticable on a paralysed in-
sect because of the resistance of the stom-
ach. The Bee must therefore be killed out-
right instead of being paralysed, or the
honey will not be voided. Instantaneous
death can be inflicted only by wounding the
primordial centre of life. The sting must
therefore aim at the cervical ganglia, the
seat of innervation on which the rest of the
282

The Bee-Eating Philanthus

organism depends. To reach them there is
only one way, through the little gap in the
throat. It is here therefore that the sting
must be inserted; and it is here in fact that
it is inserted, in a spot hardly as large as the
twenty-fifth of an inch square. Suppress a
single hnk of this compact chain, and the
Bee-fed Philanthus becomes impossible.

That honey is fatal to carnivorous larvae
is a fact which teems with consequences.
Several Hunting Wasps feed their families
upon Bees. These include, to my know-
ledge, the Crowned Philanthus (P. corona-
tus, FAB.), who lines her burrows with big
HalictI; the Robber Philanthus {P. raptor,
LEP.), who chases all the smaller-sized Ha-
licti, suited to her own dimensions, indiffer-
ently; the Ornate Cerceris (C ornata,
FAB.), another passionate lover of Halicti;
and the Palarus {P. flavipes, FAB.), who,
with a curious eclecticism, stacks in her cells
the greater part of the Hymenopteron clan
that does not exceed her powers. What do
these four huntresses and the others of sim-
ilar habits do with their victims whose crops
are more or less swollen with honey? They
must follow the example of the Bee-eating
Philanthus and make them disgorge, lest
their family perish of a honeyed diet; they
283

More Hunting Wasps

must manipulate the dead Bee, squeeze her
and drain her dry. Everything goes to show
it. I leave it to the future to display these
dazzling proofs of my doctrine in their
proper hght.

284

CHAPTER XI

THE METHOD OF THE AMMOPHIL^E ^

MY readers may differ in appraising the
comparative value of the trifling dis-
coveries which entomology owes to my la-
bours. The geologist, the recorder of
forms, will prefer the hypermetamorphosis
of the Oil-beetles, 2 the development of the
Anthrax^ or larval dimorphism; the em-
bryogenist, searching into the mysteries of
the egg, will have some esteem for my en-
quiries into the egg-laying habits of the
Osmia;^ the philospher, racking his brain
over the nature of instinct, will award the
palm to the operations of the Hunting
Wasps. I agree with the philosopher.
Without hesitation, I would abandon all the
rest of my entomological baggage for this
discovery, which happens to be the earliest

1 For these Sand-wasps, cf. The Hunting Wasps:
chaps, xiii. and xviii. to xx. — Translator's Note.

2 The chapter treating of this subject has not yet been
translated into English and will appear in a later vol-
ume.— Translator's Note.

8 Cf . The Life of the Fly: chap. ii. — Translator's Note.
* Cf. Bramble-bees and Others: chap. iv. — Translator's
Note.

28s

More Hunting Wasps

in date and that of which I have the fondest
memories. Nowhere do I find a more bril-
liant, more lucid, more eloquent proof of
the intuitive wisdom of instinct; nowhere
does the theory of evolution suffer a more
jobstinate check.

Darwin, a true judge, made no mistake
about it. He greatly dreaded the problem
of the instincts. My first results in particu-
lar left him very anxious. If he had known
the tactics of the Hairy Ammophila, the
Mantis-hunting Tachytes, the Bee-eating
Philanthus, the Calicurgi and other ma-
rauders, his anxiety, I believe, would have
ended in a frank admission that he was un-
able to squeeze instinct into the mould of his
formula, Alas, the philosopher of Down ^
quitted this world when the discussion, with
experiments to support it, had barely begun:
a method superior to any argument! The
little that I had published at that time left
him with still some hope of an explanation.
In his eyes, instinct was always an acquired
habit. The predatory Wasps killed their
prey at first by stabbing it at random, here

' Charles Robert Darwin, b. the I2th of February, 1809,
at Shrewsbury, died at Down, in Kent, on the 19th of
April, 1882. For an account of certain experiments which
the author conducted on his behalf, cf. The Mason-bees:
chap. iv. — Translator's Note.
iB6

The Method of the Ammophilae

and there, in the softest parts. By degrees
they found the spot where the sting was most
effectual; and the habit once formed became
a true instinct. Transitions from one me-
thod of operation to the other, intermediary
changes, sufficed to bolster up these sweeping
assertions. In a letter of the i6th of April,
1 88 1, he asks G. J. Romanes to consider the
problem :

" I do not know," he says " whether you
will discuss in your book on the mind of ani-
mals any of the more complex and wonder-
ful instincts. It is unsatisfactory work, as,
there can be no fossilised instincts, and the/
sole guide is their state in other members/
of the same order, and mere probability.

" But if you do discuss any (and it will
perhaps be expected of you), I should think
that you could not select a better case thajti
that of the sand-wasps which paralyse their
prey as described by Fabre in his wonderful
paper in the Annales des sciences naturelles,
and since amplified in his admirable Sou-
venirs. . . ."

I thank you, O illustrious master, for you •
eulogistic expressions, proving the keen irf
terest which you took in my studies of iri-

■^ More Hunting Wasps

stinct, no ungrateful task — far from it —
when we tackle it as it should be tackled:
from the front, with the aid of facts, and not
from the flank, with the aid of arguments.
Arguments are here out of place, if we wish
to maintain our position in the light. Be-
sides, where would they lead us? To evo-
king the instincts of bygone ages, which have
not been preserved by fossilization? Any
such appeal to the dim and distant past is
quite unnecessary, if we wish for variations
of instinct, leading by degrees, according to
you, from one instinct to another; the pre-
sent world offers us plenty.

Each operator has her particular method,
her particular kind of game, her particular
points of attack and tricks of fence; but in
the midst of this variety of talents we ob-
serve, immutable and predominant, the per-
fect accordance of the surgery with the vic-
tim's organization and the larva's needs.
The art of one will not explain the art of
another, no less exact in the delicacy of its
rules. Each operator has her own tactics,
which tolerate no apprenticeship. The Am-
mophila, the Scolia, the Philanthus and the
others all tell us the same thing: none can
leave descendants if she be not from the out-
L set the skilful paralyser or slayer that she is

The Method of the Ammophilae

today. The " almost " Is Impracticable when
the future of the race Is at stake. What
would have become of the first-born mammal
but for Its perfect Instinct of suckling?

And then, to suppose the Impossible: a
Wasp discovers by chance the operative me-
thod which will be the saving attribute of
her race. How are we to admit that this
fortuitous act, to which the mother has
vouchsafed no more attention than to her
other less fortunate attempts, could leave a
profound trace behind It and be faithfully
transmitted by heredity? Is it not going
beyond reason, going beyond the little that
is known to us as certain, If we grant to
atavism this strange power, of which our
present world knows no instance? There
Is a good deal to be said for this point of
view, my revered master! But, once more,
arguments are here out of place; there Is
room only for facts, of which I will resume
the recital.

Hitherto I had but one means of study-
ing the operative methods of the spoilers:
to surprise the Wasp in possession of her
capture, to rob her of her prey and imme-
diately to give her in exchange a similar
prey, but a living one. This method of sub-
stitution is an excellent expedient. Its only

More Hunting Wasps

defect — a very grave one — is that it sub-
jects observation to very uncertain chances.
There is little prospect of meeting the insect
dragging its victim along; and, in the second
place, should good fortune suddenly smile
upon you, preoccupied as you are with other
matters you have not the substitute at hand.
If we provide ourselves with the necessary
head of game in advance, the huntress is not
there. We avoid one reef to founder on an-
other. Moreover, these unlooked-for ob-
servations, made sometimes on the public
highway, the worst of laboratories, are only
half-satisfactory. In the case of swiftly-
enacted scenes, which it is not in our power
to renew again and again until perfect con-
viction is reached, we always fear lest we
may not have seen accurately, may not have
seen everything.

A method which could be controlled at
will would offer the best guarantees, above
all if employed at home, under comfortable
conditions, favourable to precision. I
wished, therefore, to see my insects at work
on the actual table at which I am writing their
history. Here very few of their secrets
would escape me. This wish of mine was
an old one. As a beginner, I made some
experiments under glass with the Great Cer-
290

The Method of the Ammophilae

ceris (C. ttiberculata) and the Yellow-winged
Sphex. Neither of them responded to my
desires. The refusal of each to attack re-
spectively her Cleonus or her Cricket dis-
couraged further progress in this direction.
I was wrong to abandon my attempts so
soon. Now, very long afterwards, the idea
occurs to me to place under glass the Bee-eat-
ing Philanthus, whom I sometimes surprise in
the open engaged in forcing a bee to dis-
gorge her honey. The captive massacres
her bees in such a spirited fashion that the
old hope revives stronger than ever. I con-
template reviewing all the wielders of the
stiletto and forcing each to reveal her tactics.
I was obliged to abate these ambitions
considerably. I had some successes and
many more failures. I will tell you of the
former. My insect-cage is a spacious dome
of wire-gauze resting on a bed of sand.
Here I keep in reserve the captives of my
hunting-expeditions. I feed them on honey,
placed in little drops on spikes of lavender,
on heads of thistle, or field eryngo, or globe-
thistle, according to the season. Most of
my prisoners do well on this diet and seem
scarcely affected by their internment; others
pine away and die in two or three days.
These victims of despair nearly always throw
291

More Hunting Wasps

me back, because of the difficulty of obtain-
ing the necessary prey at short notice.

Indeed it entails no small trouble to se-
cure in the nick of time the game demanded
by the huntress who has recently fallen a cap-
tive to my net. As assistant-purveyors I
have a few small schoolboys, who, released
from the tedium of their declensions and con-
jugations, set out, on leaving the classroom,
to inspect the greenswards and beat the
bushes In the neighbourhood on my behalf.
The gros sou, the penny-piece, if you please,
stimulates their zeal; but with misadventur-
ous results I What I need to-day is Crickets.
The band sallies forth and returns with not
a smgle Cricket, but numbers of Ephipplgers,
for which I asked the day before yesterday
and which I no longer need, my Languedo-
cian Sphex being dead. General surprise at
this sudden change of market. My young
scatterbralns find it hard to understand that
the beast which was so precious two days
ago is now of no value whatever. When,
owing to the chances of my net, a renewed
demand for the Ephipplger sets In, then they
will bring me the Cricket, the despised
Cricket.

Such a trade could never hold out if now
292

The Method of the Ammophilae

and again my speculators were not encour-
aged by some success. At the moment when
urgent necessity is sending up prices, one of
them brings me a magnificent Gad-fly in-
tended for the Bembex. For two hours,
when the sun was at its height, he kept
watch on the threshing-floor hard by, wait-
ing for the blood-sucker, in order to catch
him on the buttocks of the Mules which trot
round and round trampling the corn. This
gallant fellow shall have his gros sou and a
sHce of bread and jam as well. A second,
no less fortunate, has found a fat Spider, the
Epeira, for whom my Pompili are waiting.
To the two sous of this fortunate youth I
add a little picture for his missal. Thus
are my purveyors kept going; and, after all,
their help would be very inadequate if I did
not take upon myself the main burden of
these wearisome quests.

Once in possession of the requisite prey,
I transfer the huntress from my warehouse,
the wire-gauze cage, to a bell-glass varying
in capacity from one to three or four litres,^
according to the size and habits of the com-
batants; I place the victim in the arena; I
expose the bell-glass to the direct rays of the

1 1^ to 5 or 7 pints. — Translator's Note.

293

More Hunting Wasps

sun, without which condition the executioner
as a rule declines to operate; I arm myself
with patience and await events.

We will begin with the Hairy Ammophila,
my neighbour. Year after year, when April
comes, I see her in considerable numbers,
very busy on the paths in my enclosure. Un-
til June I see her digging her burrows and
searching for the Grey Worm, to be placed
in the meat-cellar. Her tactics are the most
complex that I know and more than any
other deserves to be thoroughly studied. To
capture the cunning vivisector, to release her
and catch her again I find an easy matter for
the best part of a month; she works outside
my door.

I have still to obtain the Grey Worm.
This means a repetition of the disappoint-
ments which I had before, when, to find a
caterpillar, I was obliged to watch the Am-
mophila while hunting and to be guided by
her hints, as the truffle-hunter is guided by
the scent of his Dog. A patient exploration
of the harmas, one tuft of thyme after an-
other, does not give me a single worm. My
rivals in this search are finding their game
at every moment; I cannot find it even once.
Yet one more reason for bowing to the su-
periority of the insect in the management of
■294

The Method of the Ammophilae

her affairs. My band of schoolboys get to
work in the surrounding fields. Nothing, al-
ways nothing! I in my turn explore the
outer world; and for ten days the pursuit
of a caterpillar torments me till I lose my
power of sleep. Then, at last, victory ! At
the foot of a sunny wall, under the budding
rosettes of the panicled centaury, I find a
fair supply of the precious Grey Worm or
its. equivalent.

Behold the worm and the Ammophlla face
to face beneath the bell-glass. Usually the
attack is prompt enough. The caterpillar
is grabbed by the neck with the mandibles,
wide, curved pincers capable of embracing
the greater part of the living cylinder. The
creature thus seized twists and turns and
sometimes, with a blow of its tail, sends the
assailant rolling to a distance. The latter
is unconcerned and thrusts her sting thrice
in rapid succession into the thorax, begin-
ning with the third segment and ending with
the first, where the weapon is driven home
with greater determination than elsewhere.

The caterpillar is then released. The
Ammophlla stamps on the ground; with her
quivering tarsi she taps the cardboard on
which the bell-glass stands; she lies down flat,
drags herself along, gets up again, flattens
295

More Hunting Wasps

herself once more. The wings jerk convul-
sively. From time to time the insect places
its mandibles and forehead on the ground,
then rears high upon its hind-legs as though
to turn head over heels. In all this I see a
manifestation of delight. We rub our hands
when rejoicing at a success; the Ammophila
is celebrating her triumph over the monster
in her own fashion. During this fit of de-
lirious joy, what is the wounded caterpillar
doing? It can no longer walk; but all the
part behind the thorax struggles violently,
curling and uncurling when the Ammophila
sets a foot upon it. The mandibles open
and shut menacingly.

Second act. — When the operation is re-
sumed, the caterpillar is seized by the back.
From front to rear, in order, all the seg-
ments are stung on the ventral surface, ex-
cept the three operated on. All serious dan-
ger is averted by the stabs of the first act;
therefore, the Wasp is now able to work upon
her patient without the haste displayed at the
outset. Deliberately and methodically she
drives in her lancet, withdraws it, selects the
spot, stabs it and begins again, passing from
segment to segment, taking care, each time,
to lay hold of the back a little more to the
296

The Method of the Ammophilae

rear, in order to bring the segment to be
paralysed within reach of the needle. For
the second time, the caterpillar is released.
It is absolutely inert, except the mandibles,
which are still capable of biting.

Third act. — The Ammophila clasps the
paralysed victim between her legs; with the
hooks of her mandibles she seizes the back
of its neck, at the base of the first thoracic
segment. For nearly ten minutes she
munches this weak spot, which lies close to
the cerebral nerve-centres. The pincers
squeeze suddenly but at intervals and me-
thodically, as though the manipulator wished
each time to judge of the effect produced;
the squeezes are repeated until I am tired
of trying to count them. When they cease,
the caterpillar's mandibles are motionless.
Then comes the transportation of the car-
case, a detail which is not relevant in this
place.

I have set forth the complete tragedy, as
it is fairly often enacted, but not always.
The insect is not a machine, unvarying in the
effect of its mechanism; it is allowed a cert-
ain latitude, enabling it to cope with the
eventualities of the moment. Any one ex-
pecting to see the incidents of the struggle
297

More Hunting Wasps

unfolding themselves exactly as I have de-
scribed will risk disappointment. Special in-
stances occur — they are even numerous —
which are more or less at variance with the
general rule. It will be well to mention the
more important, in order to put future ob-
servers on their guard.

Not infrequently the first act, that of
paralysing the thorax, is restricted to two
thrusts of the sting instead of three, or even
to one, which is then delivered in the fore-
most segment. This, it would seem, from
the persistency with which the Ammophila
inflicts it, is the most important prick of all.
Is it unreasonable to suppose that the opera-
tor, when she begins by pricking the thorax,
intends to subdue her capture and to make it
incapable of injuring her, or even of dis-
turbing her when the moment comes for the
delicate and protracted surgery of the sec-
ond act? This idea seems to me highly ad-
missible; and then, instead of three dagger-
thrusts, why not two only, why not merely
one, if this would suffice for the time being?
The amount of vigour displayed by the cater-
pillar must be taken into consideration. Be
this as it may, the segments spared in the
first act are stabbed in the second. I have
sometimes even seen the three thoracic seg-
298

The Method of the Ammophilae

ments stung twice over: at the beginning of
the attack and again when the Wasp returned
to her vanquished prey.

The Ammophila's triumphant transports
beside her wounded and writhing victim are
also subject to exceptions. Sometimes, with-
out releasing its prey for a moment, the in-
sect proceeds from the thorax to the next
segments and completes its operation in a
single spell. The joyous entr'acte does not
take place; the convulsive movements of the
wings and the acrobatic postures are sup-
pressed.

The rule is paralysis of all the segments,
however many, in regular order from front to
back, including even the anal segment if this
boast of legs. By a fairly frequent excep-
tion the last two or three segments are
spared. Another exception, but a very rare
one, of which I have observed only a single
instance, consists in the inversion of the dag-
ger-thrusts of the second act, the thrusts be-
ing delivered from back to front. The ca-
terpillar is then seized by its hinder extre-
mity; and the Ammophila, progressing to-
wards the head, stings in reverse order, pass-
ing from the succeeding to the preceding seg-
ment, including the thorax already stabbed.

This reversal of the usual tactics I am in-
299

More Hunting Wasps

clined to attribute to negligence on the in-
sect's part. Negligence or not, the inverted
method has the same final result as the di-
rect method: the paralysis of all the seg-
ments.

Lastly, the compression of the neck by
the mandibulary pincers, the munching of the
weak spot between the base of the skull and
the first segment of the thorax, is sometimes
practised and sometimes neglected. If the
caterpillar's jaws open and threaten, the Am-
mophila stills them by biting the neck; if
they are already growing quiescent, she re-
frains. Without being indispensable, this
operation is useful at the moment of carting
the prey. The caterpillar, too heavy to be
carried on the wing, is dragged, head first,
between the Ammophila's legs. If the man-
dibles are working, the least clumsiness may
render them dangerous to the carrier, who
is exposed to their bite without any means
of defence.

Moreover, once on the way, thickets of
grass are traversed in which the Grey Worm
can seize a blade and offer a desperate re-
sistance to the traction. Nor is this all.
The Ammophila does not as a rule trouble
about her burrow, or at least does not com-
plete it, until she has caught her caterpillar.
300

The Method of the Ammophilae

During the mining-operations, the game is
laid somewhere high up, out of reach of the
Ants, on some tuft of grass, or the twigs of
a shrub, whither the huntress, from time to
time, stopping her well-sinking, hastens to
see if her quarry is still there. For her this
is a means of refreshing her memory of the
spot where she has laid it, often at some dis-
tance from the burrow, and of preventing at-
tempts at robbery. When the moment
comes for removing the game from Its hi-
ding-place, the difficulty would be insurmount-
able were the worm, gripping the shrub with
all the might of its jaws, to anchor itself
there. Hence inertia of the powerful hooks,
which are the paralysed creature's sole
means of resistance, becomes essential du-
ring the carting. The Ammophila obtains it
by compressing the cerebral ganglia, by
munching the neck. The inertia is tem-
porary; it wears off sooner or later; but by
this time the carcase is in the cell and the
egg, prudently laid at a distance on the ven-
tral surface of the worm, has nothing to
fear from the caterpillar's grapnels. No
comparison is permissible between the me-
thodical squeezes of the Ammophila be-
numbing the cephalic nerve-centres and the
brutal manipulations of the Philanthus emp-
301

More Hunting Wasps

tying the crop of her Bee. The huntress of
Grey Worms induces a temporary torpor of
the mandibles; the ravlsher of Bees makes
them eject their honey. No one gifted with
the least perspicacity will confound the two
operations.

For the moment we will not dwell any
longer on the method of the Hairy Ammo-
phila ; we will see instead how her kinswomen
behave. After protracted refusals the
Sandy Ammophila (A. sabulosa, FAB.), on
whom I experimented in September, ended
by accepting the proffered prey, a powerful
caterpillar as thick as a lead-pencil. The
surgical method did not differ from that em-
ployed by the Hairy Ammophila when opera-
ting on her Grey Worm in one spell. All
the segments, excepting the last three, were
stung from front to back, beginning with
the prothorax. This single success with a
simplified method left me in ignorance of the
accessory manoeuvres, which I do not doubt
must more or less closely recall those of the
preceding species.

I am all the more inclined to accept these
secondary manoeuvres, not as yet recorded —
the transports of triumph and the compress-
ions of the neck — inasmuch as I see them
practised upon the Looper caterpillars, which
302

The Method of the Ammophilae

differ so greatly from the others in external
structure, exactly as I have described them
in the case of the Grey Worm, which is of
the ordinary form. Two species, the Silky
Ammophila {A. holoserica, FAB.) and
Jules' Ammophila,^ affect this curious prey,
which moves with the stride of a pair of
compasses. The first, often renewed under
glass during the greater part of August, has
always refused my offers; the second, her
contemporary, has, on the contrary, promptly
accepted them.

I present Jules' Ammophila with a slen-
der, brownish Looper which I caught on the
jasmine. The attack is not slow in coming.
The caterpillar is grabbed by the neck:
lively contortions of the victim, which rolls
the aggressor over and drags her along,
now uppermost, now undermost in the strug-
gle. First the thorax is stung, in its three
rings, from back to front. The sting lingers
longest near the throat, in the first segment.
This done, the Ammophila releases her vic-
tim and proceeds to stamp her tarsi, to po-

1 See in the first volume of the Souvenirs entomolo-
giques what I mean by this denomination. — Author's
Note.

The author's description of Ammophila Julii, H. FAB.,
will be found, in the English translation of the Souvenirs,
in The Hunting Wasps: appendix D. — Translator's Note.
303

More Hunting Wasps

lish her wings, to stretch herself. Again I
observe the acrobatic postures, the forehead
touching the ground, the hinder part of the
body raised. This mimic triumph is the
same as that of the huntress of the Grey
Worm. Then the Looper is once more
seized. Despite its contortions, which are
not in the least abated by the three wounds
in the thorax, it is stung from front to back
in each segment still unwounded, no matter
how many, whether supplied with legs or
not. I expected to see the sting refrain
more or less in the long interval which sep-
arates the true legs in front from the pro-
legs ^ at the back: segments devoid of organs
of defence or locomotion did not seem to
me to deserve conscientious surgery. I was
mistaken: not a segment of the Looper is
spared, not even the last ones. It is true
that these, being eminently capable of catch-
ing hold with their false legs, would be dan-
gerous later were the Wasp to neglect them.
I observe, however, that the lancet works
more rapidly in the second part of the opera-
tion than in the first, either because the
caterpillar, half subjugated by the triple
wound at the outset, is easier to reach with

1 Fleshy legs found on the abdominal segments of cater-
pillars and certain other larvae. — Translator's Note.
304

The Method of the Ammophilae

the sting, or because the segments more re-
mote from the head are rendered harmless
with a smaller injection of poison. No-
where do we see repeated the care expended
upon paralysing the thorax, still less the in-
sistent attention to the first segment. On re-
turning to her Looper after the entr'acte
devoted to the joys of success, the Ammo-
phila stabs so swiftly that, on one occasion,
I saw her obliged to begin all over again.
Lightly stung along its whole length, the vic-
tim still struggles. Without hesitation, the
operator unsheathes her scalpel for the sec-
ond time and operates on the Looper afresh,
with the exception of the thorax, which
was already sufficiently anaesthetized. This
done, all is in order ; there is no more move-
ment.

After the stiletto the hooks of the mandi-
bles rarely fail to intervene. Long and
curved, they nibble at the paralysed victim's
neck, sometimes from above, sometimes
from below. It is a repetition of what the
Hairy Ammophila showed us : the same sud-
den squeezes of the pincers, with rather long
intervals between. These intervals, these
measured bites and the insect's watchful at-
titude have every appearance of telling us
that the operator is noting the effect pro-
305

More Hunting Wasps

duced before giving a fresh pinch of the
nippers.

It will be seen how valuable is the evi-
dence of Jules' Ammophila: it tells us that
the immolators of Looper caterpillars and
those of ordinary caterpillars follow pre-
cisely the same method; that victims dis-
playing very dissimilar external structure do
not entail any modification of the operative
tactics so long as the internal organization
remains the same. The number, arrange-
ment and degree of mutual independence of
the nerve-centres guide the sting; the an-
atomy of the game, rather than its form,
controls the huntress' tactics.

Let me mention, before I dismiss the sub-
ject, a superb example of this marvellous
anatomical discrimination. I once took
from between the legs of a Hairy Ammo-
phila, which had just paralysed it, a cater-
pillar of Dicranura vinula. What a strange
capture compared with the ordinary cater-
pillar! Bridling in thick folds beneath its
pink neckerchief, its fore-part raised in a
sphinx-like attitude, its hinder-part slowly
waving two long caudal threads, the curious
animal is no caterpillar to the schoolboy who
brings it to me, nor to the man who comes
upon it while cutting his bundle of osiers;
306

The Method of the Ammophilae

but it is a caterpillar to the Ammophila, who
treats it accordingly. I explore the queer
creature's segments with the point of a
needle. All are insensitive; all therefore
have been stung.

307

CHAPTER XII

THE METHOD OF THE SCOLI^

A FTER the Ammophilae, the paralysers
"^ ^ who multiply their lancet-thrusts to de-
stroy the influence of the various nerve-cen-
tres, excepting those of the head, it seemed
advisable to interrogate other insects which
also are accustomed to a naked prey, vulner-
able at all points save the head, but which
deliver only a single thrust of the sting. Of
these two conditions the Scoliae fulfilled one,
with their regular quarry, the tender Ce-
tonia-, Oryctes- or Anoxia-larva, according
to the Scolia's species. Did they fulfil the
second? I was convinced beforehand that
they did. From the anatomy of the victims,
with their concentrated nervous system, I
foresaw, when compiling my history of the
Scoliae, that the sting would be unsheathed
once only; I even mentioned the exact spot
into which the weapon would be plunged.

These were assertions dictated by the an-
atomist's scalpel, without the slightest direct
proof derived from observed facts. Ma-
308

The Method of the Scoliae

noeuvres executed underground escaped the
eye, as it seemed to me that they must al-
ways do. How indeed could I hope that a
creature whose art is practised in the dark-
ness of a heap of mould would decide to
work in broad daylight? I did not reckon
upon it all. Nevertheless, to salve my con-
science, I tried bringing the Scolia into con-
tact with her prey under the bell-glass. I
was well-advised to do so, for my success
was in inverse ratio to my hopes. Next to
the Philanthus, none of the Hunting Wasps
displayed such ardour in attacking under art-
ificial conditions. All the insects experi-
mented upon, some sooner, some later, re-
warded me for my patience. Let us watch
the Two-handed Scolia {S. bifasctata, VAN
DER LIND) operating on her Cetonia grub.
The incarcerated larva strives to escape
its terrible neighbour. Lying on its back, it
fiercely wends its way round and round the
glass circus. Presently the Scolia's attention
awakens and is betrayed by a continued tap-
ping with the tips of the antennae upon the
table, which now represents the accustomed
soil. The Wasp attacks the game, deliver-
ing her assault upon the monster's hinder
end. She climbs upon the Cetonia-grub, ob-
taining a purchase with the tip of her abdo-
309

More Hunting Wasps

men. The quarry merely travels the more
quickly on its back, without coiling itself into
a defensive posture. The Scolia reaches the
fore-part, with tumbles and other accidents
which vary greatly with the amount of toler-
ance displayed by the larva, her improvised
steed. With her mandibles she nips a point
of the thorax,' on the upper surface; she
places herself athwart the beast, arches her-
self and makes every effort to reach with
the end of her abdomen the region into which
the sting is to be driven. The arch is a
little too narrow to embrace almost the
whole circumference of her corpulent prey;
and she renews her attempts and efforts for
a long time. The tip of the belly tries every
conceivable expedient, touching here, there
and everywhere, but as yet stopping no-
where. This persistent search in itself
demonstrates the importance which the para-
lyser attaches to the point at which her lan-
cet is to penetrate the flesh.

Meanwhile, the larva continues to move
along on its back. Suddenly it curls up;
with a stroke of its head it hurls the enemy
to a distance. Undiscouraged by all her
set-backs, the Wasp picks herself up, brushes
her wings and resumes her attack upon the
colossus, almost always by mounting the
310

The Method of the Scoliae

larva's hinder end. At last after all these
fruitless attempts, the Scolla succeeds in
achieving the correct position. She is seated
athwart the Cetonla-grub ; the mandibles
grip a point on the dorsal surface of the
thorax; the body, bent into a bow, passes
under the larva and with the tip of the belly
reaches the region of the neck. The Ce-
tonia-grub, placed in serious peril, writhes,
coils and uncoils itself, spinning round upon
its axis. The Scolla does not interfere.
Holding the victim tightly gripped, she turns
with it, allows herself to be dragged up-
wards, downwards, sidewards, following its
contortions. Her obstinacy is such that I
can now remove the bell-glass and follow the
details of the drama in the open.

Briefly, in spite of the turmoil, the tip of
the abdomen feels that the right spot has
been found. Then and only then the sting
is unsheathed. It plunges in. The thing Is
done. The larva, at first plump and active,
suddenly becomes flaccid and inert. It is
paralysed. Henceforth there are no move-
ments save of the antennae and the mouth-
parts, which will for a long time yet bear
witness to a remnant of life. The point
wounded has never varied in the series of
combats under glass: it occupies the middle

3"

More Hunting Wasps

of the line of demarcation between the pro-
thorax and the mesothorax, on the ventral
surface. Note that the Cerceres, operating
on Weevils, whose nervous system is as com-
pact as the Cetonia-grub's, drive in the nee-
dle at the same spot. Similarity of nervous
organization occasions similarity of method.
Note also that the Scolia's sting remains in
the wound for some time and roots about
with marked persistence. Judging by the
movements of the tip of the abdomen, one
would certainly say that the weapon is ex-
ploring and selecting. Free to shift in one
direction or the other, within narrow limits,
its point is most probably seeking for the
little mass of nerve-tissue which must be
pricked, or at least sprinkled with poison,
to obtain overwhelming paralysis.

I will not close this report of the duel
without relating a few further facts, of
minor importance. The Two-banded Scolia
is a fierce persecutor of the Cetonia. In one
sitting the same mother stabs three larvae,
one after the other, in front of my eyes.
She refuses the fourth, perhaps owing to
fatigue or to exhaustion of the poison-bag.
Her refusal is only temporary. Next day,
she begins again and paralyses two grubs;
the day after that, she does the same, but

312

The Method of the Scoliae

with a zeal that decreases from day to day.

The other Hunting Wasps that pursue
the chase far afield grip, drag, carry their
prey, after depriving it of movement, each
in her own fashion and, laden with their bur-
den, make prolonged attempts to escape
from the bell-glass and to gain the burrow.
Discouraged by these futile endeavours, they
abandon them at last. The Scolla does not
remove her quarry, which lies on its back
for an indefinite time on the actual spot of
the sacrifice. When she has withdrawn her
dagger from the wound, she leaves her vic-
tim where it lies and, without taking further
notice of it, begins to flutter against the side
of the glass. The paralysed carcase is not
transported elsewhere. Into a special cellar;
there where the struggle has occurred it re-
ceives, upon its extended abdomen, the egg
whence the consumer of the succulent tit-bit
will emerge, thus saving the expense of set-
ting up house. It goes without saying that
under the bell-glass the laying does not take
place : the mother is too cautious to abandon
her egg to the perils of the open air.

Why then, recognizing the absence of her
underground burrow, does the Scolla use-
lessly pursue the Cetonia with the frantic
ardour of the Philanthus flinging herself
313

More Hunting Wasps

upon the Bee? The action of the Philan-
thus is explained by her passion for honey;
hence the murders committed in excess of
the needs of her family. The Scolia leaves
us perplexed: she takes nothing from the
Cetonla-grub, which is left without an egg;
she stabs, though well aware of the useless-
ness of her action: the heap of mould is
lacking and it is not her custom to transport
her prey. The other prisoners, once the
blow is struck, at least seek to escape with
their capture between their legs; the Scolia
attempts nothing.

After due reflection, I lump together in
my suspicions all these surgeons and ask
myself whether they possess the slightest
foresight, where the egg is concerned.
When, exhausted by their burden, they
recognize the impossibility of escape, the
more expert among them ought not to begin
all over again; yet they do so begin a few
minutes later. These wonderful anatomists
know absolutely nothing about anything, they
do not even know what their victims are
good for. Admirable artists in killing and
paralysis, they kill or paralyse at every fa-
vourable opportunity, no matter what the
final result as regards the egg. Their
talent, which leaves our science speechless,
314

The Method of the Scoliae

has not a shadow of consciousness of the
task accompHshed.

A second detail strikes me: the desperate
persistence of the Scoha. I have seen the
struggle continue for more than a quarter
of an hour, with frequent alternations of
good luck and bad, before the Wasp achieved
the required position and reached with the
end of her abdomen the spot where the sting
should penetrate. During these assaults,
which were resumed as soon as they were
repulsed, the aggressor repeatedly applied
the tip of her belly to the larva, but without
unsheathing, as I could see by the absence
of the start which the larva gives when it
feels the pain of the sting. The Scolia
therefore does not prick the Cetonia any-
where until the weapon covers the requisite
spot. If no wounds are inflicted elsewhere,
this is not in any way due to the structure
of the larva, which is soft and vulnerable
all over, except in the head. The point
sought by the sting is no more unprotected
than any other part of the skin.

In the scuffle, the Scolia, curved into a bow,
is sometimes seized by the vice-like grip of
the Cetonia-grub, which is violently coiling
and uncoihng. Heedless of the powerful
grip, the Wasp does not let go for a moment,
315

More Hunting Wasps

either with her mandibles or with the tip of
her abdomen. At such times the two crea-
tures, locked In a mutual embrace, turn over
and over In a mad whirl, each of them now
on top, now underneath. When It contrives
to rid Itself of Its enemy, the larva uncoils
again, stretches Itself out and proceeds to
make off upon Its back with all possible
speed. Its defensive ruses are exhausted.
Formerly, before I had seen things for my-
self, taking probability as my guide I will-
ingly granted to the larva the trick of the
Hedgehog, who rolls himself Into a ball and
sets the Dog at defiance. Colled upon it-
self, with an energy which my fingers have
some difficulty In overcoming, the larva, I
thought, would defy the Scolia, powerless
to unroll it and disdaining any point but the
one selected. I hoped and believed that It
possessed this means of defence, a means
both efficacious and extremely simple. I had
presumed too much upon Its ingenuity. In-
stead of Imitating the Hedgehog and remain-
ing contracted, it flees, belly In air; it fool-
ishly adopts the very posture which allows
the Scolia to mount to the assault and to
reach the spot for the fatal stroke. The
silly beast reminds me of the giddy Bee who
comes and flings herself into the clutches of
316

The Method of the Scoliae

the Philanthus. Yet another who has learnt
no lesson from the struggle for life.

Let us proceed to further examples. I
have just captured an Interrupted Scolia
(Colpa interrupta, LATR.), exploring the
sand, doubtless in search of game. It Is a
matter of making the earliest possible use
of her, before her spirit is chilled by the
tedium of captivity. I know her prey, the
larva of Anoxia australis; * I know, from
my past excavations, the points favoured by
the grub : the mounds of sand heaped up by
the wind at the foot of the rosemaries on the
neighbouring hill-sides. It will be a hard
job to find It, for nothing is rarer than the
common if one wants It then and there. I
appeal for assistance to my father, an old
man of ninety, still straight as a capital I.
Under a sun hot enough to broil an egg, we
set off, shouldering a navvy's shovel and a
three-pronged luchet.^ Employing our fee-
ble energies In turns, we dig a trench In the
sand where I hope to find the Anoxia. My
hopes are not disappointed. After having
by the sweat of our brow — never was the
expression more justified — removed and

1 The Anoxiae are a genus of Beetles akin to the Cock-
chafers.— Translator's Note.

2 The local pitchfork of southern France. — Translator's
Note.

317

More Hunting Wasps

sifted two cubic yards at least of sandy soil
with our fingers, we find ourselves in pos-
session of two larvae. If I had not wanted
any, I should have turned them up by the
handful. But my poor and costly harvest
is sufficient for the moment. To-morrow I
will send more vigorous arms to continue
the work of excavation.

And now let us reward ourselves for our
trouble by studying the tragedy in the bell-
glass. Clumsy, awkward in her movements,
the Scolia slowly goes the round of the cir-
cus. At the sight of the game, her atten-
tion is aroused. The struggle is announced
by the same preparations as those displayed
by the Two-banded Scolia : the Wasp po-
lishes her wings and taps the table with the
tips of her antennae. And view, halloo!
The attack begins. Unable to move on a
flat surface, because of its short and feeble
legs, deprived moreover of the Cetonia-
larva's eccentric means of travelling on its
back, the portly grub has no thought of flee-
ing; it coils itself up. The Scolia, with her
powerful pincers, grips its skin now here,
now elsewhere. Curved into a circle with
the two ends almost touching, she strives to
thrust the tip of her abdomen into the nar-
row opening in the coil formed by the larva.
318

The Method of the Scoliae

The contest is conducted calmly, without vio-
lent bouts at each varying accident. It is
the determined attempt of a living split ring
trying to slip one of its ends into another
living spHt ring, which with equal determina-
tion refuses to open. The Scolia holds the
victim subdued with her legs and mandibles;
she tries one side, then the other, without
managing to unroll the circle, which con-
tracts still more as it feels its danger in-
creasing. The actual circumstances make
the operation more difficult: the prey slips
and rolls about the table when the insect
handles it too violently; there are no points
of purchase and the sting cannot reach the
desired spot; the fruitless efforts are con-
tinued for more than an hour, interrupted
by periods of rest, during which the two ad-
versaries represent two narrow, interlocked
rings.

What ought the powerful Cetonia-grub to
do to defy the Two-banded Scolia, who is
far less vigorous than her victim? It
should imitate the Anoxia-larva and remain
rolled up like a Hedgehog until the enemy
retires. It tries to escape, unrolls itself and
is lost. The other does not stir from its
posture of defence and resists successfully.
Is this due to acquired caution? No, but to
319

More Hunting Wasps

the impossibility of doing otherwise on the
slippery surface of a table. Clumsy, obese,
weak in the legs, curved into a hook like the
common White Worm,^ the Anoxia-larva is
unable ta move along a smooth surface; it
writhes laboriously, lying on its side. It
needs the shifting soil in which, using its
mandibles as a plough-share, it digs into the
ground and buries itself.

Let us try if sand will shorten the strug-
gle, for I see no end to it yet, after more
than an hour of waiting. I lightly powder
the arena. The attack is resumed with a
vengeance. The larva, feeling the sand, its
native element, tries to escape. Imprudent
creature! Did I not say that its obstinacy
in remaining rolled up was due to no ac-
quired prudence but to the necessity of the
moment? The sad experience of past ad-
versities has not yet taught it the precious
advantage which it might derive from keep-
ing its coils closed so long as danger remains.
For that matter, on the unyielding support
of my table, they are not one and all so
cautious. The larger seem even to have
forgotten what they knew so well in their
youth: the defensive art of coiling them-
selves up.

1 The larva of the Cockchafer. — Translator's Note.
320

The Method of the Scoliae

I continue my story with a fine-sized speci-
men, less likely to slip under the Scolia's
onslaught. When attacked, the larva does
not curl up, does not shrink into a ring as
did the last, which was younger and only
half as large. It struggles awkwardly, ly-
ing on its side, half-open. For all defence
it twists about; it opens, closes and reopens
the great hooks of its mandibles. The Sco-
lia grabs it at random, clasps it in her
shaggy legs and for nearly a quarter of an
hour battles with the luscious tit-bit. At
last, after a not very tumultuous struggle,
when the favourable position is attained and
the propitious moment has come, the sting is
implanted in the creature's thorax, in a cen-
tral point, below the throat, level with the
fore-legs. The effect is instantaneous : total
inertia, except of the appendages of the
head, the antennae and mouth-parts. I
achieved the same results, the same prick at
a definite, invariable point, with my several
operators, renewed from time to time by
some lucky cast of the net.

Let us mention, in conclusion, that the at-
tack of the Interrupted Scolia is far less
fierce than that of the Two-banded Scolia.
The Wasp, a rough sand-digger, has a
clumsy gait; her movements are stiff and
321

More Hunting Wasps

almost automatic. She does not find it
easy to repeat her dagger-thrust. Most of
the specimens with which I experimented re-
fused a second victim on the first two days
after their exploits. As though somnolent,
they did not stir unless excited by my teasing
them with a bit of straw. Although more
active and more ardent in the chase, the
Two-banded ScoHa likewise does not draw
her weapon every time that I invite her.
For all these huntresses there are moments
of inaction which the presence of a fresh
prey is powerless to disturb.

The Scoliae have taught me nothing fur-
ther, in the absence of subjects belonging to
other species. No matter: the results ob-
tained represent no small triumph for my
ideas. Before seeing the Scoliae operate, I
said, guided solely by the anatomy of the
victims, that the Cetonia-, Anoxia- and Oryc-
tes-larvae must be paralysed by a single
thrust of the lancet; I even named the point
where the sting must strike, a central point,
in the immediate vicinity of the fore-legs.
Of the three genera of paralysers, two have
allowed me to witness their surgical methods,
which the third, I feel certain, will confirm.
In both cases, a single thrust of the lancet;
in both cases, injection of the venom at a
322

The Method of the Scoliae

predetermined point. A calculator in an ob-
servatory could not compute the position of
his planet with greater accuracy. An idea
may be taken as proved when it attains to
this mathematical forecast of the future, this
certain knowledge of the unknown. When
will the acclaimers of chance achieve a like
success? Order appeals to order; and
chance knows no laws.

3^3

CHAPTER XIII

THE METHOD OF THE CALICURGI

* I ^HE non-armoured victims, vulnerable
-*■ by the sting over almost their whole
body, ordinary caterpillars and Looper
caterpillars, Cetonia- and Anoxia-larvae,
whose only means of defence, apart from
their mandibles, consists of rollings and con-
tortions, called for the testimony of an-
other victim, the Spider, almost as ill-pro-
tected, but armed with formidable poison-
fangs. How, in particular, will the Ringed
Calicurgus set to work in operating on the
Black-bellied Tarantula, the terrible Lycosa,
who with a single bite kills the Mole or the
Sparrow and endangers the life of man?
How does the bold Pompilus overcome an
adversary more powerful than herself, bet-
ter-equipped with virulent poison and capa-
ble of making a meal of her assailant? Of
all the Hunting Wasps, none risks such un-
equal conflicts, in which appearances would
proclaim the aggressor to be the victim and
the victim the aggressor.
324 •

The Method of the Calicurgi

The problem was one deserving patient
study. True, I foresaw, from the Spider's
organization, a single sting in the centre of
the thorax; but that did not explain the
victory of the Wasp, emerging safe and
sound from her tussle with such a quarry.
I had to see what occurred. The chief dif-
ficulty was the scarcity of the Calicurgus.
It is easy for me to obtain the Tarantula
at the desired moment: the part of the
plateau in my neighbourhood left untilled by
the vine-growers provides me with as many
as are necessary. To capture the Pompilus
is another matter. I have so little hope of
finding her that special quests are regarded
as useless. To search for her would per-
haps be just the way not to find her. Let
us rely on the uncertainties of chance.
Shall I get her or shall I not?

I've got her. I catch her unexpectedly on
the flowers. Next day I supply myself with
half a dozen Tarantulae. Perhaps I shall
be able to employ them one after the other
in repeated duels. As I return from my
Lycosa-hunt, luck smiles upon me again and
crowns my desires. A second Calicurgus
offers herself to my net; she is dragging her
heavy, paralysed Spider by one leg, in the
dust of the highway. I attach great value
32s

More Hunting Wasps

to my find : the laying of the egg has become
a pressing matter; and the mother, I beheve,
will accept a substitute for her victim with-
out much hesitation. Here then are my two
captives, each under her bell-glass with her
Tarantula.

I am all eyes. What a tragedy there will
be in a moment! I wait, anxiously. . . .
But . . . but . . . what is this? Which
of the two is the assailed? Which is the
assailant? The characters seem to be in-
verted. The Calicurgus, unable to climb up
the smooth glass wall, strides round the ring
of the circus. With a proud and rapid
gait, her wings and antennae vibrating, she
goes and returns. The Lycosa is soon seen.
The Calicurgus approaches her without the
least sign of fear, walks round her and ap-
pears to have the intention of seizing one of
her legs. But at that moment the Taran-
tula rises almost vertically on her four hin-
der legs, with her four front legs lifted and
outspread, ready for the counterstroke.
The poison-fangs gape widely; a drop of
venom moistens their tips. The very sight
of them makes my flesh creep. In this ter-
rible attitude, presenting her powerful
thorax and the black velvet of her belly to
the enemy, the Spider overawes the Pom-
326

The Method of the Calicurgi

pilus, who suddenly turns tail and moves
away. The Lycosa then closes her bundle
of poisoned daggers and resumes her na-
tural pose, standing on her eight legs; but, at
the slightest attempt at aggression on the
Wasp's part, she resumes her threatening
position.

She does more : suddenly she leaps and
flings herself upon the Calicurgus; swiftly
she clasps her and nibbles at her with her
fangs. Without wielding her sting in self-
defence, the other disengages herself and
merges unscathed from the angry encounter.
Several times in succession I witness the at-
tack; and nothing serious ever befalls the
Wasp, who swiftly withdraws from the fray
and appears to have received no hurt. She
resumes her marching and countermarching
no less boldly and swiftly than before.

Is this Wasp invulnerable, that she thus
escapes from the terrible fangs? Evidently
not. A real bite would be fatal to her.
Big, sturdily-built Acridians ^ succumb ; how
is it that she, with her delicate organism,
does not! The Spider's daggers, therefore,
make no more than an idle feint; their points
do not enter the flesh of the tight-clasped
Wasp. If the strokes were real, I should

1 Locusts and Grasshoppers. — Translator's Note.
Z27

More Hunting Wasps

see bleeding wounds, I should see the fangs
close for a moment on the part seized; and
with all my attention I cannot detect any-
thing of the kind. Then are the fangs
powerless to pierce the Wasp's integuments?
Not so. I have seen them penetrate, with
a crackling of broken armour, the corselet
of the Acridians, which offers a far greater
resistance. Once again, whence comes this
strange immunity of the Calicurgus held be-
tween the legs and assailed by the daggers
of the Tarantula? I do not know.
Though in mortal peril from the enemy con-
fronting her, the Lycosa threatens her with
her fangs and cannot decide to bite, owing
to a repugnance which I do not undertake
to explain.

Obtaining nothing more than alarums and
excursions of no great seriousness, I think
of modifying the gladiatorial arena and ap-
proximating it to natural conditions. The
soil is very imperfectly represented by my
work-table; and the Spider has not her
fortress, her burrow, which plays a part of
some importance both in attack and in de-
fence. A short length of reed is planted
perpendicularly in a large earthenware pan
filled with sand. This will be the Lycosa's
burrow. In the middle I stick some heads
328

The Method of the Calicurgi

of globe-thistle garnished with honey as a
refectory for the Pompilus; a couple of Lo-
custs, renewed as and when consumed, will
sustain the Tarantula. These comfortable
quarters, exposed to the sun, receive the two
captives under a wire-gauze dome, which
provides adequate ventilation for a pro-
longed residence.

My artifices come to nothing; the session
closes without result. A day passes, two
days, three; still nothing happens. The
Pompilus is assiduous in her visits to the
honeyed flower-clusters; when she has eaten
her fill, she clambers up the dome and makes
interminable circuits of the netting; the
Tarantula quietly munches her Locust. If
the other passes within reach, she swiftly
raises herself and waves her off. The arti-
ficial burrow, the reed-stump, fulfils its pur-
pose excellently. The Lycosa and the Pom-
pilus resort to it in turns, but without quar-
relling. And that is all. The drama whose
prologue was so full of promise appears to
be indefinitely postponed.

I have a last resource, on which I base
great hopes: it is to remove my two Cali-
curgi to the very site of their investigations
and to install them at the door of the
Spider's lodging, at the top of the natural
329

More Hunting Wasps

burrow. I take the field with an equipment
which I am carrying across the country for
the first time: a glass bell-jar, a wire-gauze
cover and the various implements needed for
handling and transferring my irascible and
dangerous subjects. My search for burrows
among the pebbles and the tufts of thyme
and lavender is soon successful.

Here is a splendid one. I learn by
inserting a straw that It is inhabited by a
Tarantula of a size suited to my plans. The
soil around the aperture is cleared and flat-
tened to receive the wire-gauze, under which
I place a Pompllus. This is the time to
light a pipe and wait, lying on the pebbles.
. . . Yet another disappointment. Half an
hour goes by; and the Wasp confines herself
to travelling round and round the netting as
she did in my study. She gives no sign of
greed when confronted with the burrow,
though I can see the Tarantula's diamond
eyes glittering at the bottom.

The trellised wall is replaced by the glass
wall, which, since it does not allow her to
scale Its heights, will oblige the Wasp to
remain on the ground and at last to take
cognizance of the shaft, which she seems to
ignore. This time we have done the trick!

After a few circuits of her cage, the Cali-
330

The Method of the Calicurgi

curgus notices the pit yawning at her feet.
She goes down it. This daring confounds
me. I should never have ventured to an-
ticipate as much. That she should suddenly
fling herself upon the Tarantula when the
latter is outside her stronghold, well and
good; but to rush into the lair, when the
terrible monster is waiting for you below
with those two poisoned daggers of hers!
What will come of such temerity? A buz-
zing of wings ascends from the depths.
Run to earth in her private apartments, the
Lycosa is no doubt at grips with the in-
truder. That hum of wings is the Cali-
curgus' paean of triumph, unless it be her
death-song. The slayer may well be the
slain. Which of the two will come up alive ?
It is the Lycosa, who hurriedly scampers
out and posts herself just over the orifice of
the burrow, in her posture of defence, her
fangs open, her four front legs uplifted.
Can the other have been stabbed? Not at
all, for she emerges in her turn, not with-
out receiving on the way a cuff from the
Spider, who immediately regains her lair.
Dislodged from her basement a second and
yet a third time, the Tarantula always comes
up unwounded; she always awaits her ad-
versary on her threshold, administers pun-
331

More Hunting Wasps

Ishment and reenters her dwelling. In vain
do I try my two Pompili alternately and
change the burrow; I do not succeed in ob-
serving anything else. Certain conditions
not realized by my stratagems are lacking
to complete the tragedy.

Discouraged by the repetition of my fu-
tile attempts, I throw up the game, the
richer however by one fact of some value :
the Calicurgus, without, the least fear, de-
scends into the Tarantula's den and dis-
lodges her. I imagine that things happen in
the same fashion outside my cages. When
expelled from her dwelling, the Spider is
more timid and more vulnerable to attack.
Moreover, while hampered by a narrow
shaft, the operator would not wield her lan-
cet with the precision called for by her de-
signs. The bold irruption shows us once
again, more plainly than the tussles on my
table, the Lycosa's reluctance to sink her
fangs into her enemy's body. When the two
are face to face at the bottom of the lair,
then or never is the moment to have it out
with the foe. The Tarantula is in her own
house, with all its conveniences; every nook
and corner of the bastion is familiar to her.
The intruder's movements are hampered by
her ignorance of the premises. Quick, my
332

The Method of the Calicurgi

poor Lycosa, quick, a bite; and it's all up
with your persecutor! But you refrain, I
know not why, and your reluctance is the
saving of the rash invader. The silly Sheep
does not reply to the butcher's knife by
charging with lowered horns. Can it be that
you are the Pompilus' Sheep?

My two subjects are reinstalled in my
study under their wire-gauze covers, with
bed of sand, reed-stump burrow and fresh
honey, complete. Here they find again
their first Lycosae, fed upon Locusts. Co-
habitation continues for three weeks with-
out other incidents than scuffles and threats
which become less frequent day by day. No
serious hostility is displayed on either side.
At last the Calicurgi die: their day is over.
A pitiful end after such an enthusiastic be-
ginning.

Shall I abandon the problem? Why, not
a bit of it ! I have encountered greater dif-
ficulties, but they have never deterred me
from a warmly-cherished project. Fortune
favours the persevering. She proves as
much by offering me, in September, a fort-
night after the death of my Tarantula-hunt-
resses, another Calicurgus, captured for the
first time. This is the Harlequin Calicurgus
(C scurra, LEP.), who sports the same
3Z3

More Hunting Wasps

gaudy costume as the first and is almost of
the same size.

Now what does this newcomer, of whom
I know nothing, want? A Spider, that is
certain; but which? A huntress Hke this
will need a corpulent quarry: perhaps the
Silky Epeira {E. serica), perhaps the Banded
Epeira {E. fasciata), the largest Spiders in
the district, next to the Tarantula. The
first of these spreads her large upright net,
in which Locusts are caught, from one clump
of brushwood to another. I find her in the
copses on the neighbouring hills. The sec-
ond stretches hers across the ditches and the
little streams frequented by the Dragon-flies.
I find her near the Aygues, beside the irri-
gation-canals fed by the torrent. A couple
of trips procures me the two Epeirae, whom
I offer to my captive next day, both at the
same time. It is for her to choose accord-
ing to her taste.

The choice is soon made: the Banded
Epeira is the one preferred. But she does
not yield without protest. On the approach
of the Wasp, she rises and assumes a de-
fensive attitude, just like that of the Lycosa.
The Calicurgus pays no attention to threats :
under her harlequin's coat, she is violent in
attack and quick on her legs. There is a

33*

The Method of the Calicurgi

rapid exchange of fisticuffs; and the Epeira
lies overturned on her back. The Pompilus
is on top of her, belly to belly, head to
head; with her legs she masters the Spider's
legs; with her mandibles she grips the
cephalothorax. She curves her abdomen,
bringing the tip of it beneath her; she draws
her sting and . . .

One moment, reader, if you please.
Where Is the sting about to strike? From
what we have learnt from the other para-
lysers, it will be driven into the breast, to
suppress the movement of the legs. That is
your opinion; it was also mine. Well, with-
out blushing too deeply at our common and
very excusable error, let us confess that the
insect knows better than we do. It knows
how to assure success by a preparatory
manoeuvre of which you and I had never
dreamt. Ah, what a school is that of the
animals ! Is it not true that, before striking
the adversary, you should take care not to
get wounded yourself? The Harlequin
Pompilus does not disregard this counsel of
prudence. The Epeira carries beneath her
throat two sharp daggers, with a drop of
poison at their points; the Calicurgus is lost
if the Spider bites her. Nevertheless, her
anaesthetizing demands perfect steadiness of
335

More Hunting Wasps

the lancet. What is to be done in the face
of this danger which might disconcert the
most practised surgeon? The patient must
first be disarmed and then operated on.

And in fact the Cahcurgus' sting, aimed
from back to front, is driven into the
Epeira's mouth, with minute precautions and
marked persistency. On the instant, the
poison-fangs close lifelessly and the formi-
dable quarry is powerless to harm. The
Wasp's abdomen then extends its arc and
drives the needle behind the fourth pair of
legs, on the median line, almost at the junc-
tion of the belly and the cephalothorax. At
this point the skin is finer and more easily
penetrable than elsewhere. The remainder
of the thoracic surface is covered with a
tough breast-plate which the sting would per-
haps fail to perforate. The nerve-centres,
the source of the leg-movements, are situ-
ated a little above the wounded point, but
the back-to-front direction of the sting makes
it possible to reach them. This last wound
results in the paralysis of all the eight legs
at once.

To enlarge upon it further would detract

from the eloquence of this performance.

First of all, to safeguard the operator, a stab

in the mouth, that point so terribly armed,

336

The Method of the Calicurgi

the most formidable of all; then, to safe-
guard the larva, a second stab in the nerve-
centres of the thorax, to suppress the power
of movement. I certainly suspected that the
slayers of robust Spiders were endowed with
special talents; but I was far from expecting
their bold logic, which disarms before it
paralyses. So the Tarantula-huntress must
behave, who, under my bell-glasses, refused
to surrender her secret. I now know what
her method is; it has been divulged by a col-
league. She throws the terrible Lycosa
upon her back, pricks her prickers by sting-
ing her in the mouth and then, in comfort,
with a single thrust of the lancet, obtains
paralysis of the legs.

I examine the Epeira immediately after
the operation and the Tarantula when the
Calicurgus is dragging her by one leg to her
burrow, at the foot of some wall. For a
little while longer, a minute at most, the
Epeira convulsively moves her legs. So
long as these throes continue, the Pompilus
does not release her prey. She seems to
watch the progress of the paralysis. With
the tips of her mandibles she explores the
Spider's mouth several times over, as though
to ascertain if the poison-fangs are really
innocuous. When all movement subsides,
3Z7

More Hunting Wasps

the Pompilus makes ready to drag her prey
elsewhere. It is then that I take charge
of it.

What strikes me more than anything else
is the absolute inertia of the fangs, which I
tickle with a straw without succeeding in
rousing them from their torpor. The palpi,
on the other hand, their immediate neigh-
bours, wave at the least touch. The Epeira
is placed in safety, in a flask, and undergoes
a fresh examination a week later. Irri-
tability has in part returned. Under the
stimulus of a straw, I see her legs move a
little, especially the lower joints, the tibiae
and tarsi. The palpi are even more irritable
and mobile. These different movements,
however, are lacking in vigour and coordina-
tion; and the Spider cannot employ them to
turn over, much less to escape. As for the
poison-fangs, I stimulate them in vain: I
cannot get them to open or even to stir.
They are therefore profoundly paralysed
and in a special manner. The peculiar in-
sistence of the sting when the mouth was
stabbed told me as much in the beginning.

At the end of September, almost a month

after the operation, the Epeira is in the same

condition, neither dead nor alive: the palpi

still quiver when touched with a straw, but

338

The Method of the Calicurgi

nothing else moves. At length, after six or
seven weeks' lethargy, real death supervenes,
together with its comrade, putrefaction.

The Tarantula of the Ringed Calicurgus,
as I take her from the owner at the moment
of transportation, presents the same peculi-
arities. The poison-fangs are no longer ir-
ritable when tickled with my straw: a fresh
proof, added to those of analogy, to show
that the Lycosa, like the Epeira, has been
stung in the mouth. The palpi, on the other
hand, are and will be for weeks highly ir-
ritable and mobile. I wish to emphasize
this point, the importance of which will be
recognized presently.

I found it impossible to provoke a second
attack from my Harlequin Calicurgus: the
tedium of captivity did not favour the ex-
ercise of her talents. Moreover, the Epeira
sometimes had something to do with her
refusals; a certain ruse de guerre which was
twice employed before my eyes may well
have baffled the aggressor. Let me describe
the Incident, if only to increase our respect
a little for these foolish Spiders, who are
provided with perfected weapons and do not
dare to make use of them against the weaker
but bolder assailant.

The Epeira occupies the wall of the wlre-

339

More Hunting Wasps

gauze cage, with her eight legs wide-spread
upon the trelliswork; the Caiicurgus is wheel-
ing round the top of the dome. Seized with
panic at the sight of the approaching enemy,
the Spider drops to the ground, with her
belly upwards and her legs gathered to-
gether. The other dashes forward, clasps
her round the body, explores her and pre-
pares to sting her in the mouth. But she
does not bare her weapon. I see her bend-
ing attentively over the poisoned fangs, as
though to investigate their terrible mechan-
ism; she then goes away. The Spider is still
motionless, so much so that I really believe
her dead, paralysed unknown to me, at a
moment when I was not looking. I take her
from the cage to examine her comfortably.
No sooner is she placed on the table than be-
hold, she comes to life again and promptly
scampers off ! The cunning creature was
shamming death beneath the Wasp's stiletto,
so artfully that I was taken in. She de-
ceived an enemy more cunning than myself,
the Pompilus, who inspected her very closely
and took her for a corpse unworthy of her
dagger. Perhaps the simple creature, like
the Bear in the fable of old, already noticed
the smell of high meat.

This ruse, if ruse it be, appears to me
340

The Method of the Calicurgi

more often than not to turn to the disad-
vantage of the Spider, whether Tarantula,
Epeira or another. The Calicurgus who
has just put the Spider on her back after a
brisk fight knows quite well that her pro-
strate foe is not dead. The latter, thinking
to protect itself, simulates the inertia of a
corpse; the assailant profits by this to de-
liver her most perilous blow, the stab in the
mouth. Were the fangs, each tipped with
its drop of poison, to open then; were they
to snap, to give a desperate bite, the Pom-
pilus would not dare to expose the tip of her
abdomen to their deadly scratch. The
shamming of death is exactly what enables
the huntress to succeed in her dangerous
operation. They say, O guileless Epeirae,
that the struggle for life has taught you to
adopt this inert attitude for purposes of de-
fence. Well, the struggle for life was a
very bad counsellor. Trust rather to com-
mon sense and learn, by degrees, at your
own cost, that to hit back, above all if you
can do so promptly, is still the best way to
intimidate the enemy.^

The remainder of my observations on
these insects under glass is little more than

1 Fabre does not believe in the actual shamming of
death by animals. Cf. The Gloiu-iuorm and Other

341

More Hunting Wasps

a long series of failures. Of two operators
on Weevils, one, the Sandy Cerceris (C
arenaria) , persistently scorned the victims
offered; the other, Ferrero's Cerceris (C
Ferreri), allowed herself to be empted after
two days' captivity. Her tactical method,
as I expected, is precisely that of the Cleonus-
huntress, the Great Cerceris, with whom
my investigations commenced. When con-
fronted with the Acorn-weevil, she seizes the
insect by the snout, which is immensely long
and shaped like a pipe-stem, and plants her
sting in its body to the rear of the prothorax,
between the first and second pair of legs.
It is needless to insist: the spoiler of the
Cleoni has taught us enough about this mode
of operation and its results.

None of the Bembex-wasps, whether
chosen among the huntresses of the Gadfly
or among the lovers of the House-fly rab-
ble, satisfied my aspirations. Their method
is as unknown to me now as at the distant
period when I used to watch it in the Bois
des Issards.^ Their impetuous flight, their
love of long journeys are incompatible with

Beetles, by J. Henri Fabre, translated by Alexander
Teixeira de Mattos: chaps, xiii. to xv. — Translator's
Note.

1 Cf. The Hunting Wasps: chaps, xiv. to xviii. — Trans-
lator's Note.

342

The Method of the Calicurgi

captivity. Stunned by colliding with the
walls of their glass or wire-gauze prison,
they all perish within twenty-four hours.
Swifter in their movements and apparently
satisfied with their honeyed thistle-heads, the
Spheges, huntresses of Crickets or Ephip-
pigers, die as quickly of nostalgia. All I
offer them leaves them Indifferent.

Nor can I get anything out of the Eu-
menes, notably the biggest of them, the
builder of gravel cupolas, Amedeus' Eu-
menes. All the Pompill, except the Harle-
quin Calicurgus, refuse my Spiders. The
Palarus, who preys upon an indefinite num-
ber of the Hymenopteron clan, refuses to
tell me if she drinks the honey of the Bees,
as does the Philanthus, or if she lets the
others go without manipulating them to
make them disgorge. The Tachytes do not
vouchsafe their Locusts a glance; Stizus rufi-
cornis promptly gives up the ghost, disdain-
ing the Praying Mantis which I provide for
her.

What Is the use of continuing this list of
checks? The rule may be gathered from
these few examples : occasional successes and
many failures. What can be the reason?
With the exception of the Philanthus,
tempted from time to time by a bumper of

More Hunting Wasps

honey, the predatory Wasps do not hunt on
their own account; they have their victual-
ling-time, when the egg-laying is imminent,
when the family calls for food. Outside
these periods, the finest heads of game might
well leave these nectar-bibbers indifferent.
I am careful therefore, as far as possible,
to capture my subjects at the proper season;
I give preference to mothers caught upon
the threshold of the burrow with their prey
between their legs. This diligence of mine
by no means always succeeds. There are
demoralized insects which, once under glass,
even after a brief delay, no longer care
about the equivalent of their prize.

All the species do not perhaps pursue their
game with the same ardour; mood and tem-
perament are more variable even than con-
formation. To these factors, which are of
the nicest order, we may add that of the
hour, which is often unfavourable when the
subject is caught at haphazard on the flow-
ers, and we shall have more than enough to
explain the frequency of the failures. After
all, I must beware of representing my fail-
ures as the rule : what does not succeed one
day may very well succeed another day, un-
der different conditions. With perseverance
and a little skill, any one who cares to con-

344

The Method of the Calicurgi

tinue these interesting studies will, I am sure,
fill up many gaps. The problem is difficult
but not impossible.

I will not quit my bell-jars without saying
a word on the entomological tact of the cap-
tives when they decide to attack. One of
the pluckiest of my subjects, the Hairy Am-
mophila, was not always provided with the
hereditary dish of her family, the Grey
Worm. I offered her indiscriminately any
bare-skinned caterpillars that I chanced to
find. Some were yellow, some green, some
brown with white edges. All were accepted
without hesitation, provided that they were
of suitable size. Tasty game was recog-
nized wonderfully under very dissimilar
liveries. But a young Zeuzera-caterpillar,
dug out of the branches of a lilac-tree, and
a silkworm of small dimensions were defi-
nitely refused. The over-fed products of
our silkworm-nurseries and the mystery-lov-
ing caterpillar which gnaws the inner wood
of the lilac inspired her with suspicion and
disgust, despite their bare skin, which fa-
voured the sting, and their shape, which was
similar to that of the victims accepted.

Another ardent huntress, the Interrupted
Scolia, refused the Cetonia-grub, which is of
like habits with the Anoxia-larva; the Two-
345

More Hunting Wasps

banded Scolia also refused the Anoxia. The
Philanthus, the headlong murderess of Bees,
saw through my trickery when I confronted
her with the Virgillan Bee, the Eristalis (E.
tenax). She, a Philanthus, take this Fly
for a Bee! What next! The popular
Idea is mistaken; antiquity too Is mistaken,
as witness the Georgics, which make the pu-
trid remains of a sacrificed Bull give birth
to a swarm; but the Wasp makes no mis-
take. In her eyes, which see farther than
ours, the Eristalis Is an odious DIpteron, a
lover of corruption, and nothing more.

346

CHAPTER XIV

OBJECTIONS AND REJOINDERS

"^JO idea of any scope can begin its soar-
-*" ^ ing flight but straightway the cur-
mudgeons are after it, eager to break its
wings and to stamp the wounded thing un-
der foot. My discovery of the surgical me-
thods that give the Hunting Wasps their
preserved foodstuffs has undergone the com-
mon rule. Let theories be discussed, by all
means: the realm of the imagination is an
untilled domain, in which every one is free to
plant his own conceptions. But realities are
not open to discussion. It is a bad policy
to deny facts with no more authority than
one's wish to find them untrue. No one
that I know of has impugned by contrary
observations what I have so long been say-
ing about the anatomical instinct of the
Wasps that hunt their prey; instead, I am
met with arguments. Mercy on us! First
use your eyes and then you shall have leave
to argue! And, to persuade people to use
their eyes, I mean to reply, since we have
347

More Hunting Wasps

time to spare, to the objections which have
been or may be raised. Of course, I pass
over in silence those in which childish dis-
paragement shows its nose too plainly.

The sting, I am told, is directed at one
point rather than another because that is the
only vulnerable point. The insect cannot
choose what wound it will inflict; it stings
where it must. Its wonderful operative me-
thod is the necessary result of the victim's
structure. Let us first, if we attach any im-
portance to lucidity, come to an understand-
ing about the word " vulnerable." Do you
mean by this that the point or rather points
wounded by the sting are the only points at
which a lesion will suddenly cause either
death or paralysis? If so, I share your
opinion; not only do I share it, but I was the
first to proclaim it. My whole thesis is con-
tained in that. Yes, a hundred times yes,
the points wounded are the only vulnerable
points; they are even very vulnerable; they
are the only points which lend themselves
to the infliction of sudden death or else
paralysis, according to the operator's inten-
tion.

But this is not how you understand the
matter: you mean accessible to the sting, in
a word, penetrable. Here we part com-
348

Objections and Rejoinders

pany. I have against me, I admit, the Wee-
vils and the Buprestes of the Cerceres.
These mailed ones hardly give the sting a
chance, save behind the prothorax, the point
at which the lancet is actually directed. If I
were one to stand on trifles, I might observe
that in front of the prothorax, under the
throat, is an accessible spot and that the
Cerceres will have nothing to do with it.
But let us proceed; I give up the horn-clad
Beetle.

What are we to say of the Grey Worm
and other caterpillars beloved of the Am-
mophilae? Here are victims accessible to
the sting underneath, on the back, on the
sides, fore and aft, everywhere with the same
facility, excepting the top of the head.
And of this infinity of points, which are
equally penetrable, the Wasp selects ten,
always the same, differing in no way from
the rest, unless it be by the close proximity
of the nerve-centres. What are we to say
of the Cetonia- and Anoxia-larvae, which are
always attacked in the first thoracic segment,
after long and painful struggles, when the
assailant can sting the grub freely at what-
ever point she chooses, since it is quite naked
and offers no greater resistance to the lancet
at one point than at another?

349

More Hunting Wasps

What are we to think of the Sphex' Crick-
ets and Ephippigers, stabbed three times on
the side of the thorax, which is fairly well
defended, whereas the abdomen, soft and
bulky, into which the sting would sink like
a needle into a pat of butter, is neglected?
Do not let us forget the Philanthus, who
takes no account either of the fissures be-
neath the abdominal plates or of the wide
hiatus behind the corselet, but plunges her
weapon, at the base of the throat, through
a gap of a fraction of a millimetre. Let us
just mention the Mantis-hunting Tachytes.
Does she make for the most undefended
point when she stabs, first of all, at its base,
the Mantis' dreadful engine — the arm-
pieces each fitted with a double saw — at the
risk of being seized, transfixed and crunched
on the spot if she misses her blow? Why
does she not strike at the creature's long
abdomen? That would be quite easy and
free from danger.

And the Calicurgi, if you please Are
they also unskilled duelists, plunging the dirk
into the only easily accessible point, when
their very first move is to paralyse the poi-
son-fangs? If there is one point about the
Tarantula and the Epeira that is dangerous
and difficult to attack, it is certainly the
350

Objections and Rejoinders

mouth which bites with its two poisoned har-
poons. And these desperadoes dare to
brave that deadly trap! Why do they not
follow your judicious advice? They should
sting the plump belly, which Is wholly un-
protected. They do not; and they have
their reasons, as have the others.

All, from the first to the last, show us,
clear as water from the rock, that the outer
structure of the victims operated on counts
for nothing in the method of operating.
This is determined by the inner anatomy.
The points wounded are not stung because
they are the only points penetrable by the
lancet; they are stung because they fulfil an
important condition, without which penetra-
bihty loses its value. This condition is none
other than the Immediate proximity of the
nerve-centres whose influence has to be sup-
pressed. When at close quarters with her
prey, whether soft or armour-clad, the hunt-
ress behaves as If she understood the nervous
system better than any of us. The thought-
less objection about the only penetrable
points is, I hope, swept aside for ever.

I am also told:

" It Is possible, if it comes to that, for the
sting to be delivered in the neighbourhood
of the nerve-centres; in a victim at most
351

More Hunting Wasps

three or four centimetres long, distances are
very small. But a casual there or there-
abouts is a very different thing from the pre-
cision of which you speak."

Oh, they are " thereabouts," are they?
We shall see ! You want figures, millimetres,
fractions? You shall have them!

First I call to witness the Interrupted
Scolia. If the reader no longer has her me-
thod of operating in mind, I will beg him to
refresh his memory. The two adversaries,
in the preliminary conflict, may be fairly well
represented by two rings interlocked not in
the same plane but at right angles. The
Scolia grips a point of the Anoxia-grub's
thorax; she curves her body underneath it
and, while encircling the grub, gropes with
the tip of her abdomen along the median
line of the larva's neck. Owing to her
transversal position, the assailant is now free
to aim her weapon in a slightly slanting di-
rection, whether towards the head or to-
wards the thorax, at the same point of entry
In the larva's throat. Between the two op-
posite slants of the sting, which is itself very
short, what can the distance be? Two
millimetres,^ perhaps less. That is very lit-
tle. No matter: let the operator make a

1 .078 inch. — Translator's Note.
352

Objections and Rejoinders

mistake of this length — negligible, you may
tell me — let the sting slant towards the
head instead of slanting towards the thorax;
and the result of the operation will be en-
tirely different. With a slant towards the
head, the cerebral ganglia are wounded and
their lesion causes sudden death. This is
the stroke of the Philanthus, who kills her
Bee by stinging her from below, under the
chin. The Scolia needed a motionless but
not dead victim, one that would supply
fresh victuals; she will now have only a
corpse, which will soon go bad and poison
the larva.

With a slant towards the thorax, the sting
wounds the little mass of nerve-cells in the
thorax. This is the regulation stroke, the
one which will induce paralysis and leave the
small amount of life needed to keep the
provisions fresh. A millimetre higher kills;
a millimetre lower paralyses. On this tiny
deviation the salvation of the Scolia race
depends. You need not fear that the op-
erator will make any mistake in this mi-
crometrical performance: her sting always
slants towards the thorax, although the op-
posite inclination is just as practicable and
easy. What would be the outcome of a
there or thereabouts under these conditions ?
353

More Hunting Wasps

Very often a corpse, a form of food fatal
to the grub.

The Two-banded Scolia stings a little
lower down, on the line of demarcation be-
tween the first two thoracic segments. Her
position is likewise transversal in relation to
the Cetonia-grub; but the distance of the
cervical ganglia from the point where the
sting enters would possibly not allow the
weapon turned towards the head to inflict a
lesion followed by sudden death as In the
above Instance. I am calling this witness
with another object. It Is extremely unusual
for the operator, no matter what her prey
or her method, to make a shght mistake and
sting merely s'omewhere near the requisite
point. I see them all groping with the tip
of the abdomen, sometimes seeking persist-
ently, before unsheathing. They thrust
only when the point beneath the sting is pre-
cisely that at which the wound will produce
its full effect. The Two-banded Scolia In
particular will struggle with the Cetonia-
grub for half an hour at a time to enable
herself to drive In the stiletto at the right
spot.

Wearied by an endless scuffle, one of my
captives committed before my eyes a slight
blunder, an unprecedented thing. Her

354

Objections and Rejoinders

weapon entered a little to one side, not quite
a millimetre from the central point and still,
of course, on the line of demarcation between
the first two thoracic segments. I at once
laid hold of the precious specimen, which was
to teach me curious matters about the effects
of an ill-delivered stroke. If I myself had
made the insect sting at this or that point,
there would have been no particular interest
in it: the Scolia, held between the finger-
tips, would wound at random, like a Bee
defending herself; her undirected sting would
inject the poison at haphazard. But here
everything happened by rule, except for the
little error of position.

Well, the victim of this clumsy operation
has its legs paralysed only on the left side,
the side towards which the weapon was de-
flected; it is a case of hemiplegia. The legs
on the right side move. If the operation
had been performed in the normal fashion
the result would have been sudden inertia of
all six legs. The hemiplegia, it is true does
not last long. The torpor of the left half
rapidly gains the right half of the body and
the creature lies motionless, incapable of
burying itself in the mould, without, how-
ever, realizing the conditions indispensable
to the safety of the egg or the young grub.

355

More Hunting Wasps

If I seize one of its legs or a point of the
skin with the tweezers, it suddenly shrivels
and curls up and swells out again, as it does
when in complete possession of its energies.
What would become of an egg laid on such
victuals? At the first closing of this ruth-
less vice, at the first contraction, it would be
crushed, or at least detached from its place;
and any egg removed from the point where
the mother has fastened it is bound to perish.
It needs, on the Cetonia's abdomen, a yield-
ing support which the bites of the new-born
larva will not set aquiver. The slightly ec-
centric sting gives none of this soft mass of
fat, always outstretched and quiescent.
Only on the following day, after the torpor
has made progress, does the larva become
suitably inert and limp. But it is too late;
and in the meantime the egg would be in
serious danger on this half-paralysed victim.
The sting, by straying less than a millimetre,
would leave the Scolia without progeny.

I promised fractions. Here they are.
Let us consider the Tarantula and the Epeira
on whom the Calicurgi have just operated.
The first thrust of the sting is delivered in
the mouth. In both victims the poison-
fangs are absolutely lifeless : tickling with a
bit of straw never once succeeds in making
356

Objections and Rejoinders

them open. On the other hand, the palpi,
their very near neighbours, their adjuncts as
it were, possess their customary mobility.
Without any previous touches, they keep on
moving for weeks. In entering the mouth
the sting did not reach the cervical gangha,
or sudden death would have ensued and we
should have before our eyes corpses which
would go bad in a few days, instead of fresh
carcases in which traces of life remain mani-
fest for a long time. The cephalic nerve-
centres have been spared.

What is wounded then, to procure this
profound inertia of the poison-fangs? I re-
gret that my anatomical knowledge leaves
me undecided on this point. Are the fangs
actuated by a special ganglion? Are they
actuated by fibres issuing from centres exer-
cising further functions? I leave to anato-
mists equipped with more delicate instru-
ments than I the task of elucidating this ob-
scure question. The second conjecture ap-
pears to me the more probable, because of
the palpi, whose nerves, it seems to me, must
have the same origin as those of the fangs.
Basing our argument on this latter hypoth-
esis, we see that the Calicurgus has only
one means of suppressing the movement of
the poisoned pincers without affecting the
357

More Hunting Wasps

mobility of the palpi, above all without in-
juring the cephalic centres and thus pro-
ducing death, namely, to reach with her sting
the two fibres actuating the fangs, fibres as
fine as a hair.

I insist upon this point. Despite their
extreme delicacy, these two filaments must
be injured directly; for, if it were enough
for the sting to inject its poison " there or
thereabouts," the nerves of the palpi, so
close to the first, would undergo the same
intoxication as the adjacent region and would
leave those appendages motionless. The
palpi move; they retain their mobility for a
considerable period; the action of the poison,
therefore, is evidently situated in the nerves
of the fangs. There are two of these nerve-
filaments, very fine, very difficult to discover,
even by the professional anatomist. The
Calicurgus has to reach them one after the
other, to moisten them with her poison, pos-
sibly to transfix them, in any case to operate
upon them in a very restricted manner; so
that the diffusion of the virus may not in-
volve the adjoining parts. The extreme
delicacy of this surgery explains why the
weapon remains In the mouth so long; the
point of the sting is seeking and eventually
finds the tiny fraction of a millimetre where
358

Objections and Rejoinders

the poison is to act. This is what we learn
from the movements of the palpi close to
the motionless fangs; they tell us that the
Calicurgi are vivisectors of alarming ac-
curacy.

If we accept the hypothesis of a special
nerve-centre for the mandibles, the difficulty
would be a little less, without detracting
from the operator's talent. The sting
would then have to reach a barely visible
speck, an atom in which we should hardly
find room for the point of a needle. This
is the difficulty which the various paralysers
solve in ordinary practice. Do they actu-
ally wound with their dirks the gangHon
whose influence is to be done away with?
It is possible, but I have tried no test to
make sure, the infinitely tiny wound appear-
ing to be too difficult to detect with the op-
tical instruments at my disposal. Do they
confine themselves to lodging their drop of
poison on the ganglion, or at all events in
its immediate neighbourhood? I do not say
no.

I declare moreover, that, to provoke
lightning paralysis, the poison, if it is not
deposited inside the mass of nervous sub-
stance, must act from somewhere very near.
This assertion is merely echoing what the
359

More Hunting Wasps

Two-banded Scolia has just shown us: her
Cetonia-grub, stung less than a millimetre
from the regular spot, did not become mo-
tionless until next day. There is no doubt,
judging by this instance, that the effect of
the virus spreads in all directions within a
radius of some extent; but this diffusion is
not enough for the operator, who requires
for her egg, which is soon to be laid, abso-
lute safety from the very first.

On the other hand, the actions of the para-
lysers argue a precise search for the ganglia,
at all events for the first thoracic ganglion,
the most important of all. The Hairy Am-
mophila, among others, affords us an excel-
lent example of this method. Her three
thrusts in the caterpillar's thorax and espe-
cially the last, between the first and second
pair of legs, are more prolonged than the
stabs distributed among the abdominal gan-
glia. Everything justifies us in believing
that, for these decisive inoculations, the
sting seeks out the corresponding ganglion
and acts only when it finds it under its point.
On the abdomen this peculiar insistence
ceases; the sting passes swiftly from one
segment to another. For these segments,
which are less dangerous, the Ammophila
perhaps relies on the diffusion of her venom;
360

Objections and Rejoinders

in any case, the injections, though hastily
administered, do not diverge from a close
vicinity of the ganglia, for their field of ac-
tion is very limited, as is proved by the
number of inoculations necessary to induce
complete torpor, or, more simply, by the
following example.

A Grey Worm which had just received its
first sting on the third thoracic segment re-
pulses the Ammophila and with a jerk hurls
her to a distance. I profit by the occasion
and take hold of the grub. The legs of this
third segment only are paralysed; the others
retain their usual mobility. However help-
less in the two injured legs, the animal can
walk very well; it buries itself in the earth,
returning to the surface at night to gnaw
the stump of lettuce with which I have served
it. For a fortnight my paralytic retains
perfect liberty of action, except in the seg-
ment operated on; then it dies, not of its
wound but accidentally. All this time the
effect of the poison has not spread beyond
the inoculated segment.

At any point where the sting enters, an-
atomy informs us of the presence of a ner-
vous nucleus. Is this centre directly smitten
by the weapon? Or is it poisoned with
virus, from a very small distance, by the
361

More Hunting Wasps

progressive impregnation of the neighbour-
ing tissues? This is the doubtful point,
though it does not in any way invalidate the
precision of the abdominal injections, which
are comparatively neglected. As for those
in the caterpillar's thorax, their precision is
beyond dispute. After the Ammophllae, the
Scollae and, above all, the Calicurgi, is it
really necessary to bring into court yet other
witnesses, who would all swear that, with
modifications of detail, the movement of
their lancet Is strictly regulated by the ner-
vous system of the prey? This ought to be
enough. The proof is established for those
who have ears to hear with.

Others delight in objections whose oddity
surprises me. They see in the poison of the
Hunting Wasps an antiseptic liquid and in
victuals stored in their burrows preserved
meats which are kept fresh not by a rem-
nant of life but by the virus and its microbes.
Come, my learned masters, let us just talk
the matter over, between ourselves. Have
you ever seen the larder of a skilled Hunt-
ing Wasp, a Sphex for Instance, a Scolia, an
Ammophila? You haven't, have you? I
thought as much. Yet It would be better to
begin by doing so, before bringing the pre-
servative microbe on the scene. The slight-
362

Objections and Rejoinders

est examination would have shown you that
the victuals cannot be compared exactly with
smoked hams. The thing moves, therefore
it is not dead. There you have the whole
matter, in its artless simplicity. The palpi
move, the mandibles open and shut, the tarsi
quiver, the antennae and the abdominal fila-
ments wave to and fro, the abdomen throbs,
the intestine rejects its contents, the animal
reacts to the stimulus of a needle, all of
which signs are hardly compatible with the
idea of pickled meat.

Have you had the curiosity to look
through the pages in which I set forth the
detailed results of my observations? You
haven't, have you? Again, I thought as
much. It is a pity. You would there find,
in particular, the history of certain Ephip-
pigers who, after being stung by the Sphex
according to rule, were reared by myself by
hand. You must agree that these are queer
preserves to be produced by the use of an
antiseptic fluid. They accept the mouthfuls
which I offer them on the tip of a straw ; they
feed, they sit up and take nourishment. I
shall never live to see tinned sardines doing
as much.

I will avoid tedious repetition and content
myself with adding to my old sheaf of proofs

More Hunting Wasps

a few facts which have not yet been related.
The Nest-building Odynerus showed us in
her cells a few Chrysomela-larvae fixed by
the hinder part to the side of the reed.
The grub fastens itself in this way to the
poplar-leaf to obtain a purchase when the
moment has come for leaving the larval
slough. Do not these preparations for the
nymphosis tell us plainly that the creature is
not dead?

The Hairy Ammophila affords us an even
better example. A number of caterpillars
operated on before my eyes attained, some
sooner, some later, the chrysalis stage. My
notes are explicit on the subject of some of
them, taken on Verbascum sinuatum. Sacri-
ficed on the 14th of April, they were still
irritable when tickled with a straw a fort-
night after. A little later, the pale-green
colouring of the early stages is replaced by
a reddish brown, except on two or three
segments of the median ventral surface.
The skin wrinkles and splits, but does not
come detached of its own accord. I can
easily remove it in shreds. Under this
slough appears the firm, chestnut-brown horn
integument of the chrysalis. The develop-
ment of the nymphosis is so correct that for
a moment the crazy hope occurs to me that
364

Objections and Rejoinders

I may see a Turnip-moth come out of this
mummy, the victim of a dozen dagger-
thrusts. For the rest, there is no attempt at
spinning a cocoon, no jet of silky threads
flung out by the caterpillar before turning
into a chrysalis. Perhaps under normal con-
ditions metamorphosis takes place without
this protection. However, the moth whom
I expected to see was beyond the lim-
its of the possible. In the middle of May,
a month after the operation on the cater-
pillars, my three chrysalids, still incomplete
underneath, in the three or four middle seg-
ments, withered and at last went mouldy.
Is the evidence conclusive this time? Who
can conceive such a silly idea as that a prey
really dead, a corpse preserved from putre-
faction by an antiseptic, could contain what
is perhaps the most delicate work of life,
the development of the grub into the perfect
insect?

The truth must be driven into recalcit-
rant brains with great blows of the sledge-
hammer. Let us once more employ this me-
thod. In September I unearth from a heap
of mould five Cetonia-grubs, paralysed by
the Two-banded Scolia and bearing on the
abdomen the as yet unhatched egg of the
Wasp. I remove the eggs and install the
365

More Hunting Wasps

helpless creatures on a bed of leaf-mould
with a glass cover. I propose to see how
long I can keep them fresh, able to move
their mandibles and palpi. Already the vic-
tims of various Hunting Wasps had in-
structed me on a similar matter; I knew that
traces of life linger for two, three, four
weeks and longer. For instance, I had seen
the Ephippigers of the Languedocian Sphex
continue the waving of their antennae and
their paralytic shudders for forty days of art-
ificial feeding by hand; and I used to wonder
whether the more or less early death of the
other victims was not due to lack of nourish-
ment quite as much as to the operation which
they had undergone. However, the insect
in its adult form usually has a very brief
existence. It soon dies, killed by the mere
fact of living, without any other accident.
A larva is preferable for these investigations.
Its constitution is livelier, better able to sup-
port protracted abstinence, above all during
the winter torpor. The Cetonia-grub, a
regular lump of bacon, nourished by its own
fat during the winter season, fulfils the need-
ful conditions to perfection. What will be-
come of it, lying belly upwards on its bed of
leaf-mould? Will it survive the winter?
At the end of a month, three of my grubs
366

Objections and Rejoinders

turn brown and lapse into rottenness. The
other two keep perfectly fresh and move
their antennas and palpi at the touch of a
straw. The cold weather comes and tickhng
no longer elicits these signs of life. The
inertia is complete; nevertheless their ap-
pearance remains excellent, without a trace
of the brownish tinge, the sign of deteriora-
tion. At the return of the warm weather,
in the middle of May, there is a sort of
resurrection. I find my two larvae turned
over, belly downwards; much more: they are
half-buried in the mould. When teased,
they coil up lazily; they move their legs as
well as their mouth-parts, but slowly and
without vigour. Then their strength seems
to revive. The convalescent, resuscitated
grubs dig with clumsy efforts into their bed
of mould; they dive into it and disappear to
a depth of about two inches. Recovery
seems to be imminent.

I am mistaken. In June I unearth the
invalids. This time, the larvae are dead;
their brown colour tells me as much. I ex-
pected better things. Never mind: this is
no trifling success. For nine months, nine
long months, the grubs stabbed by the
Scolia kept fresh and alive. Towards the
end, torpor was dispelled, strength and
367

More Hunting Wasps

movement returned, sufficiently to enable
them to leave the surface where I had
placed them and to regain the depths by
boring a passage through the soil. I really
think that after this resurrection there will
be no more talk of antiseptics, unless and
until tinned Herrings begin to frolic in their
brine. ^

1 The subject of this and the preceding chapters is

continued in an essay entitled The Poison of the Bee, for

which cf. Bramble-bees and Others: chap. xi. — Trans-
lator's Note.

368

INDEX

Acorn-weevil, 181-184, 342
Amedeus' Eumenes, 216, 343
Ameles decolor {see Grey

Mantis)
Ammophila {see also the

varieties below), 105, 128,

144, 169, i86, 285-308, 362
Ammophila hursuta {see

Hairy Ammophila)
Ammophila holoserica {see

Silky Ammophila)
Ammophila Julii {see Jules'

Ammophila)
Ammophila sabulosa {see

Sandy Ammophila)
Anathema Tachytes, 137-

139

Anoxia {see also the vari-
eties below), 88-89, 97-98,
109, n6, 124, 172, 308,
322, 324, 345-346, 349,

352-354
Anoxia australis, 317-322
Anoxia matutinalis {see

Morning Anoxia)
Anoxia villosa {see Shaggy

Anoxia)
Ant, 146-149
Anthidium {see also the

varieties below), 223
Anthidium bellicosum, 239,

241

Anthidium scapulare, 239-

240
Anthidium septemdentatum,

239, 241
Anthophora, 276, 280
Anthrax {see also A. sinu-

ata), 190, 192, 201, 285
Anthrax sinuata, 239, 241
Ape, 112-113
Aphis {see Plant-louse)
Ass, 196
Astata, 170

B

Balaninus {see also B. glan-
dum), 167

Balaninus glandum {see
Acorn-weevil)

Banded Epeira, 29, 334-341

Bat, III

Bee {see also Bumble-bee,
Hive-bee, Mason-bee),
174, 17 sn, 221-224, 274

Bee-eating Philanthus, 171-
172, 202, 216-219, 222,
224-226, 243-284, 286, 291,
313-314, 316, 343, 346, 353

Beetle, 104, 349

Bembex {see also the vari-
eties below), I, 33, 62-63,
86, 128, 132, 143, 160-165,
170, 178, i86, 190, 200,
267, 269, 274, 293, 342-343

369

Index

Bembex bidentata {see
Two-pronged Bembex)

Bembex rostrata {see Ros-
trate Bembex)

Black, Adam and Charles,

V.

Black-bellied Tarantula, m,
4-28, 324-333. 337-34».
350, 356-359

Black Spider {see Cellar
Spider)

Black Tachytes, 135-137,

139
Blister-beetle {see Oil-bee-
tle)
Bluebottle, 146
Blue Osmia, 239, 241
Bombylius, 179
Boylc) Robert, 34^
Brachycera, 167
Brachyderes pubescens {see

Pubescent Brachyderes)
Breguet, Louis, 114
Brillat-Savarin, Anthelme,

166, 208
Brown-winged Solenius,

174-175
Bug, 170
Bull, 346
Bull, the author's Dog, 46,

149
Bullock, 53

Bumble-bee, 4, 7, 13, 30
Buprestis, i, 104-106, 173,

177. 179-180, 349
Buprestis-hunting Cerceris,

173
Burnt Zonitis, 239, 241
Butterfly, 177

Cabbage Pieris, 167-168, 187

Calicurgus {see Pompilus
and the varieties below)

Calicurgus annulatus {see
Ringed Calicurgus)

Calicurgus scurra {see Har-
lequin Calicurgus)

Callot, Jacques, 141-142

Cantharides, 240

Carpenter-bee, 4, 30

Cellar Spider, n-28

Century co., v

Cerceris {see also Buprestis-
hunting Cerceris and the
varieties below), i, 104,
169, 179, 200, 223, 251,
268, 312, 349

Cerceris arenaria {see Sand
Cerceris)

Cerceris Ferreri {see Fer-
rero's Cerceris)

Cerceris ornata {see Ornate
Cerceris)

Cerceris tuberculata {see
Great Cerceris)

Cerocoma, 240

Cetonia {see also the vari-
eties below), 48-50, 52-
103, 109, 116, 120-125,
172, 202, 274-275, 308-317,
319, 324, 345, 349, 354-356,
360, 365-368

Cetonia aurata {see Golden

Cetonia)
Cetonia morio, 48-49

Chaffinch, 184, 196
Chalicodoma {see Mason-
bee)

370

Index

Chaoucho-grapaou {see
Nightjar)

Chimpanzee, 114

Chrysomela populi {see
Poplar Leaf-beetle)

Cicada, 34

Cicadeila, 170

Cleonus {see also C. oph-
thalmicus), 173, 176-177,
291, 343

Cleonus ophthalmicus, 173

Cneorhinus, 183

Cockchafer, 42^, 88, 99, 124,
317^, 32on

Colpa interrupta {see Inter-
rupted Scolia)

Common Cockchaper {see
Cockchafer)

Common Wasp, 13, 32

Cotton-bee {see Anthidium
scapulare)

Cow, 196

Crab, II

Crabro {see Hornet)

Crabro chrysostomus {see
Golden-mouthed Hornet)

Cricket, i, 89, 106, 135-136,
139-140, 172, 185-186, 200,
202, 210-211, 216, 291-292,
343, 350

Crowned Philanthus, 173,
283

Cuckoo, 111

Darwin, Charles Robert,

148, 233, 286-289
David the painter, 112-113
David, Felicien Cesar, 113
Death's-head Hawk-moth,

187, 196

Devilkin {see Erapusa)
Dicranura vinula, 306-307
Dioxys cincta {see Girdled

Dioxys)
Dog {see also Bull), 207-

208, 294, 316
Drone-fly, 12-13, 24-25, 174,

175", 194, 202, zss-^S^,

346
Dufour, Jean Marie Leon,

179
Duges. Louis Antoine, 13-15

Earth-worm, 196

Eight-spotted Pompilus, 29

Empusa, 140-143, 176, 179,
210, 220

Epeira {see also the vari-
eties below), 170, 293,
350, 356-359

Epeira fasciata {see Banded
Epeira)

Epeira serica {see Silky
Epeira)

Ephippiger, i, 57, 73-77,
79, 89, 106, 172, 175, 186,

199, 202, 210-2II, 292,

343 350, 363, 366
Eristalis E. tenax {see

Drone-fly)
Eucera, 280
Euchlora Julii, 44
Eumenes {see also Ame-

deus Eumenes), 169

Fabricius, Johan Christian,
238

Favier, the author's facto-
tum, 46-47, 51, III-II2

371

Index

Ferrero's Cerceris, i8o-i8i,
34.2

Field-mouse, 196

Fly {see also Gad-fly,
House-fly), 13, 62-63, 170,
174-175, 180, 190-191,

194-195, 200-202, 274,

Fox, 149
Frog, 196

Gad-fly, i, 34, 36, 146,
i67«, 174, 185-186, 293,

342
Galileo, 34K
Garden Scolia, 30-32, 49,

72-73, 98-99, 103, ii6,

172
Garden Spider {see Epeira)
Geonomus, 183
Girdled Dioxys, 235-237
Gnat, 207, 219
Goat, 112

Goatsucker {see Nightjar)
Golden Cetonia, 48-49
Golden-crested Wren, 30
Golden-mouthed Hornet,

175
Golden Osmia, 237
Gorilla, 114

Grasshopper, 158-160, 2U
Great Cellar Spider {see

Cellar Spider)
Great Cerceris, 173, 176-

177, 267, 290-291

Grey Mantis, 140-141, 220
Grey Worm, 57, 92-93, 156,

178, 202, 210, 294-302,
304, 345. 349. 361-363

H

Hairy Aramophila, 1-2, 57,

92-94, 136, 156, 174, 177-

178, 200, 202, 286, 294-

306, 345, 349, 360-364

Halictus, 173, 202, 280

Harlequin Calicurgus, 333-

341, 343

Hedgehog, 88, 316

Hehphilus pendulus, 174-
175

Hemorrhoidal Scolia, 30, 99

Hen, 276

Herring, 368

Hive-bee, i6, 24-25, 171-
172, 202, 216-219, 224-
226, 228, 246-284, 314,
316, 343, 346, 353

Hog, 113

Hornet {see also Golden-
mouthed Hornet), 4, 30,
32, 170, 180

House-fly, 170, 342

Interrupted Scolia, 32, 43-
44, 50, 96, 98, 102, n6,
172, 317-322, 345, 352-354

Jules, Ammophila, 303-306

K
Klug, 238

L

Lalande, Joseph Jerome Le

Frangais de, 177
Lamellicorn, 38, 42-45, 170

372

Index

Languedocian Sphex, 57, 73-

76, 79, i3on, 137, 172.

174-175, 199, 262, 292, 366
Lark, 207
Latreille, Pierre Andre,

140, 182
Leucospis gigas, L. grandis,

238
Lily-beetle, 167-168, 172
Linnet, 184
Locust, I, 106, 129-131, 139-

140, 157-158, 176, 178,

185-186, 197, 20I, 210,

274-276, 333, 343
Looper, 174, 179, 201, 2io,

232-233, 302-306, 324
Lycosa (see Black-bellied

Tarantula)

M

Macmillan Co., v
Mantis (see also Grey
Mantis, Praying Mantis),

89, 135, 145, 147-148, 150,

163, 170, 173, 179, 201,

210, 219-220, 224-225, 350
Mantis-hunting Tachy-

tes (see Mantis-killing

Tachytes
Mantis-killing Tachy tes,

134-135, 139-160, 162, t73,

176, 179, 216, 219-220,

222, 286
Mariotte, Edme, 33
Mason-bee (see also Antho-

phora and the varieties

below), 223, 238
Miason-bee of the Pebbles

(see Mason-bee of the

Walls)
Mason-bee of the Sheds, 238

Mason-bee of the Shrubs,

238
Mason-bee of the Walls,

235-238 ^
Measurin g-w o r m (see

Looper)
Megachfle sericans, 239, 241
Melanophora, 175
Meloe (see Oil-beetle)
Miall, Bernard, v
Midge, 10, 146-147
Mithridates VI, 196
Mole, 4, 42, 137-138, 324
Mole-cricket, 138-140
Monkey, 1 12-1 13
Monoceros (see Oryctes

nasicorms)
Morning Anoxia, 50, 96-97,

102-103
Mosquito, 147, 207
Moth, 169, 174, 177
Mule, 293

Muscid (see House-fly)
Mylabris, 240

N

Narbonne Lycosa (see

Black-bellied Tarantula)

Nest-building Odynerus,

274, 364
Nightjar, 112
Nut-weevil, 225-226

O

Odynerus (see also Nest-
building Odynerus), 227,
243-245, 261

Oil-beetle, 240, 285

Ornate Cerceris, 283

Oryctes nasicorms, 47, 49-
50, 72-73, 88-89, 97-98,
103, 109, 116, 122-123,

373

Index

172, 199, 203, 308, 322

Oryctes Silenus, 48

Osmia {see also the vari-
eties below), 222, 242,
276, 280, 285

Osmia cyanea {see Blue Os-
mia)

Osmia cyanoxantha, 235-
237

Osmia Latreiltii {see La-
treille's Osmia)

Osmia parvula {see Tiny
Osmia)

Osmia tricornis {see
Three-horned Osmia)

Ostrich, 1 96

Otiorhynchus, 180, 183

Palarus {see also P. flavi-

pes), 160, 243, 274
Palarus flavipes, 283
Pangonia, 34, 36
Panzer's Tachytea, 129-132,

136, 144-145, 176, 178
Paragus, 175
Pascal, Blaise, 114
Passerini, 49
Pea-weevil, 167
Pelopaeus, 170, 202
Pentodon punctatus, 48
Perez, J., i32n, 134/1
Phaneropteron falcata,

191-194
Philanthus {see also the

varieties below), 288,

309, 350
Philanthus apivorus {see

Bee-eating Philanthus)
Philanthus coronatus {see

Crowned Philanthus)

374

Philanthus raptor {see
Robber Philanthus)

Phynotomus, i8o-i8i

Pieris {see Cabbage Pieris)

Pig, 113, 188

Pine-chafer, 99

Pithecanthropus, 112

Plant-louse, 146-147

Pompilus {see also the
varieties below), 1-29,
170, 186, 293, 324-346,
350-351, 356-359, 362

Pompilus annulatus {see
Ringed Calicurgus)

Pompilus apicalis, 15-28

Pompilus octopunctatus

{see Eight-spotted Pom-
pilus)

Poplar Leaf-beetle, 243-
245, 261, 274, 364,

Praying Mantis, 135, 139-
142, 151-160, 163, 165,
176, 185, 194, 216, 220,
343

Pubescent Brachyderes,
181-183

Rat, m

Resin-bee {see Anthidium

bellicosum, A. septem-

dentatum)
Rhinoceros Beetle {see

Oryctes nastcornis)
Rhynchites betuleti, 180-

181
Ringed Calicurgus, 4-29,

286, 324-333, 337-341
Ringed Pompilus {see

Ringed Calicurgus)

Index

Robber Philanthus, 173,

183
Robber-fly, 167M
Robin, 184
Romanes, George John,

287
Rose-chafer {see Cetonia,

Golden Cetonia)
Rostrate Bembex, 174

Sand Cerceris, 173, i8i-
184, 200, 216, 225-226,
274, 342

Sandy Amraophila, 174,
302

Sapyga punctata {see
Spotted Sapyga)

Sarcophaga, 175

Scarabaeid, 38-39, 43-44,
116-119

Scarabaus pentodon, 103
122, 124

Scolia {see also the vari-
eties below), 30-126, 137,
170, 274,_ 308-323, 362

Scolia bifasc'tata {see
Two-banded Scolia)

Scolia hamorrhoidalis {see
Hemorrhoidal Scolia)

Scolia hortorum {see Gar-
den Scolia)

Scolia interrupta {see In-
terrupted Scolia)

Screech-owl, 196

Seal, 197

Segestria perfidia {see Cel-
lar Spider)

Shaggy Anoxia, 44, 50, 96

Sheep, I, 196, 333

Silkworm, 97, 167, 187-
190, 197

Silky Ammophila, 174, 179,
201, 232-235, 303

Silky Epeira, 29, 334

Silky Leaf-cutter {see
Megachile sericans)

Sitones, 180, 183

Skua, 260

Slug, 112

Snail, 112, 223, 237

Socrates, 126

Solenius fascipennis {see
Brown-winged Solenius)

Solenius vagus {see Wan-
dering Solenius)

Sparrow, 4, 324

Sparrow-hawk, iii-n2

Sphaerophoria, 175, 179

Sphex {see also Langue-
docian Sphex, White-
banded Sphex, Yellow-
winged Sphex), I, 84,
106-107, 128-129, 132,
144, 169, i86, 191, 202,
209-213, 223, 343, 350,
362-363

Spider {see also Black-bel-
lied Tarantula, Cellar
Spider, Epeira), 2-3, 10-
II, 170, 177, 186, 201,
203, 232-234, 324, 334,

343

Spotted Sapyga, 237-238

Spurge Hawk-moth, 167,
187, 196

Stizus {see also the vari-
eties below), 170, 223

Stizus ruficornis, 160, 163-
165, 170, 173, 179, 216,

343
Stizus tridentatus, 170

375

Index

Strophosomus, 183
Swallow, 207
Swammerdam, Jan, 97
Syritta per pens, 175
Syrphus, 175

Tachytes {see also Mantis-
killing Tachytes and the
varieties below), 126-
165, 169, 191, 224-225,
343

Tachytes anathema {see
Anathema Tachytes)

Tachytes nigra {see Black
Tachytes)

Tachytes Panzeri {see
Panzer's Tachytes)

Tachytes tarsina {see Tar-
sal Tachytes)

Tachytes unicolor, i33«

Tarantula {se,e Black-bel-
lied Tarantula)

Tarsal Bembex, 190-195,
200

Tarsal Tachytes, 132-133,

139, 158, 178, 274

Teixeira de Mattos, Alex-
ander, V, m, $n, 132W,
i67«, i73n

Three-horned Osmia, 229-
232, 237, 239, 241, 276-
278

Tiny Osmia, 237-238

Toad, 112

Toricelli, Evangelista, 34

Toussenel, Alphonse, 125

Turkey, 47

Turnip Moth, 92«, 365

Two-banded Scolia, 32, 34-

45. 47-87, "6, 172, 199,
202, 309-316, 321-322,

3,7^

345-346, 354-356, 360,
365, 367
Two-pronged Bembex, 174

U

Unwin, T. Fisher, Ltd., v

Vespa crabro {see Hornet)
Virgilian Bee, Virgil's Bee
{see Drone-fly)

W

Wandering Solenius, 175

Wasp {see Common

Wasp)

Weevil {see also Acorn-
weevil, Nut-weevil, Pea-
weevil), 1, 104-106, 169,
173, ^77, 183, 185, 200,
202, 216, 251, 274, 312,
342, 349

Whale, 197

Whippoorwill {see Night-
jar)

White-banded Sphex, 130,
136, 173

White Worm, 42, 99, 137,
320

Wolf, 196

Yellow-winged Sphex,
i3on, 131, 135-136, 172,
216, 267, 291

Zeuzera, 345

Zonitis prausta {see Burnt
Zonitis)

QL

568

V5F313

Fabre, Jean Henri Casimir
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