XV THE AMMOPHILA 209 



the burrow, and now departs. Whither? Who 

 knows ? Perhaps to the flowers near, to lick up by 

 the last gleam of day a drop of sugary liquid at the 

 bottom of their cups, just as a miner after labour- 

 ing in his dark gallery seeks the consolation of his 

 bottle when evening comes. The Ammophila may be 

 enticed farther and farther by the inviting blossoms. 

 Evening, night, and morning pass, and now she 

 must return to her burrow and complete her task, — 

 return after all her windings and wanderings in the 

 chase that morning, and the flight from flower to 

 flower, and the libations of the previous evening. 

 That a wasp should return to the nest and a bee to 

 the hive does not surprise me ; these are permanent 

 abodes, and the ways back are known by long 

 practice, but the Ammophila, who has to return 

 after so long an absence, has no aid from acquaint- 

 ance with the locality. Her shaft is in a place which 

 she visited yesterday, perhaps for the first time, and 

 must find again to-day when quite beyond her bear- 

 ings, and, moreover, when she is encumbered by heavy 

 prey. Yet this exploit of topographical memory is 

 accomplished, and sometimes with a precision which 

 left me amazed. The insect made straight for the 

 burrow as if long used to every path in the neigh- 

 bourhood ; but at other times there would be long 

 visitation and repeated searches. 



If the difficulty become serious, the prey, which 

 is an embarrassing load in a hurried exploration, 

 is laid in some obvious place, on a tuft of thyme 

 or grass, where it can be easily seen when wanted. 

 Freed from this burden the Ammophila resumes 

 an active search. As she hunted about I have 



P 



