THE BURROWERS 



her. At one time, being startled by some movement on 

 our part, she dropped her load and flew away. We placed 

 the bee upon the closed nest, and when she came back 

 with another, she paused and looked at it, took in the 

 one she was carrying, and then returned for number 

 one. This was placed on the threshold while she entered 

 and turned around, and was then pulled in. Some wasps, 

 notably C. ornata and our little tornado, refuse to take 

 in their prey, even if they have caught it themselves, 

 excepting in a regular succession of events ; and thus the 

 more reasonable conduct of ventilabris gains in interest. 

 To the west of Milwaukee, across the valley of the 

 Menominee, rises a sandy hilltop which is a little insect 

 kingdom by itself. Ants of course abound, and the gentle 

 little solitary bees, with their loads of pollen, may be 

 seen everywhere, seeming to melt into the ground, so 

 quickly and quietly do they open their burrows. Here 

 Oxybelus plys her trade of fly-catching, and graceful 

 Ammophila dances with her shadow over the sunny 

 ground, while Cerceris rests in her doorway with an air 

 of leisurely superiority to the vulgar cares of life ; and 

 here, one day in early July, a sudden access of energy 

 seemed to strike Aphilanthops frigidus, a wasp which 

 we had found a year before taking in the wingless queens 

 of ants. All at once they were digging everywhere, biting 



