The Hunting Wasps 



of chemistry — to kill an insect neatly, to do 

 what the Cerceris performs so quickly and so 

 prettily, that is, if we are stupid enough to 

 assume that her captured prey actually be- 

 comes a corpse. 



A corpse ! But that is by no means the 

 fare prescribed for the larvae, those little 

 ogres clamouring for fresh meat, whom game 

 ever so slightly high would inspire with insur- 

 mountable disgust. They want meat killed 

 that day, with no suspicion of taint, the first 

 sign of corruption. Nevertheless, the prey 

 cannot be packed into the cell alive, as we 

 pack the cattle destined to furnish fresh meat 

 for the passengers and crew of a ship. 

 What indeed would become of the delicate 

 egg laid among live provisions? What 

 would become of the feeble larva, a tiny grub 

 which the least touch would bruise, among 

 lusty Beetles who would go on kicking for 

 weeks with their long, spurred legs? We 

 need here two things which seem utterly ir- 

 reconcilable : the immobility of death com- 

 bined with the sweet wholesomeness of life. 

 Before such a dietetic problem, the most 

 deeply read layman would stand powerless; 

 the practical entomologist himself would own 

 44 



