XIX THE RETURN TO THE NEST 259 



which hunts the Cleonus. About 10 a.m. I took a 

 dozen females busy at the same bank and of the same 

 colony, either hollowing or storing burrows. Each 

 was enclosed in a twist of paper, and all were put 

 into a box. About two kilometres from the nests I 

 freed my captives, first marking them with a white 

 dot in the middle of the thorax by means of a straw 

 dipped in an indelible colour, in order to recognise 

 them later. They flew on every side — some here, 

 some there, but only a few paces, alighting on blades 

 of grass and passing their forelegs over their eyes 

 for a moment, as if dazzled by the bright sunshine to 

 which they were suddenly restored. Then they took 

 flight — some earlier, some later ; and one and all took 

 unhesitatingly a straight line south, i.e. in the direc- 

 tion of their home. Five hours later I returned to 

 the common territory of the nests. Almost directly 

 I saw two of my white-dotted Cerceris working at 

 their burrows. Soon a third came in, with a weevil 

 between her feet. A fourth soon followed — four out 

 of twelve in a quarter of an hour was enough for 

 conviction ; I judged it useless to wait longer ; what 

 four could do, the others could, if indeed they had 

 not already done it, and one may very well suppose 

 that the eight absentees were out hunting, or perhaps 

 had retired into the depths of their burrows. Thus, 

 carried to a distance of two kilometres, in a direction 

 and by a way which they could not possibly perceive 

 from the depths of their paper prison, the Cerceris — 

 at all events part of them — had returned home. 



I do not know to what distance they go hunting ; 

 possibly they know the country round for some two 

 kilometres. In that case they would not have been 



