The Life of the Fly 



at the door, the Wasps left them alone. 

 When there was anything of a crowd, the grey 

 visitors waited near the threshold for a less 

 busy moment. No harm came to them. 



Inside the establishment, the same peaceful 

 relations prevail. In this respect I have the 

 evidence of my excavations. In the under- 

 ground charnel-house, so rich in Fly-grubs, I 

 find no corpses of adult Flies. If the strangers 

 had been slaughtered in passing through the 

 entrance-hall, or lower down, they would fall 

 to the bottom of the burrow anyhow, with the 

 other rubbish. Now in this charnel-house, as 

 I said, there are never any dead Bumble-bee 

 Flies, never a Fly of any sort. The incomers 

 are respected. Having done their business, 

 they go out unscathed. 



This tolerance on the part of the Wasps is 

 surprising. And a suspicion comes to one's 

 mind: can it be that the Volucella and the rest 

 are not what the accepted theories of natural 

 history call them, namely, enemies, grub-kill- 

 ers sacking the Wasps' nest? We will look into 

 this by examining them when they are hatched. 

 Nothing is easier, in September and October, 

 than to collect the Volucella's eggs in such 

 numbers as we please. They abound on the 

 outer surface of the Wasps' nest. Moreover, 

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