A Parasite of the Bembex 



Her plaintive hum denotes anxiety: she never 

 emits it when there is no peril. But who is 

 the enemy? Can it be I, sitting here and 

 watching? Why, no: I am nothing to her, 

 nothing but a shapeless mass unworthy of her 

 attention. The formidable enemy, the fear- 

 some foe that must be avoided at all costs, is 

 there, sitting motionless on the sand, near the 

 house. It is a miserable little Fly, feeble 

 and inoffensive in appearance. This insig- 

 nificant Gnat is the terror of the Bembex. 

 The scourge of the Fly-tribe, the fierce slayer 

 who so swiftly wrings the necks of colossal 

 Gad-flies sated with blood from an Ox's back, 

 does not enter her own residence because she 

 sees herself watched by another Fly, a regu- 

 lar pigmy, who would make scarcely a mouth- 

 ful for her larvae. 



Why does she not pounce upon her and get 

 rid of the little wretch? The Wasp is quick 

 enough on the wing to catch her; and, small 

 though the capture be, the larvae; will not 

 scorn it, since any sort of Fly suits them. 

 But no: the Bembex flees from a foe whom 

 she could cut to bits with a single stroke of 

 her mandibles; it is to me as though I saw my 

 Cat fleeing in terror from a Mouse. The 

 ardent huntress of Flies is hunted by a Fly 

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