The Mason-bees 



I see her diving into a cell, coming out again 

 a moment later with her mouth smeared with 

 pollen. She has been to try the provisions. 

 A dainty connoisseur, she goes from one store 

 to another, taking a mouthful of honey. Is 

 it a tithe for her personal maintenance, or a 

 sample tested for the benefit of her coming 

 grub? I should not like to say. What I 

 do know is that, after a certain number of 

 these tastings, I catch her stopping in a cell, 

 with her abdomen at the bottom and her 

 head at the orifice. This is the moment of 

 laying, unless I am very much indeed mis- 

 taken. 



When the parasite is gone, I inspect the 

 home. I see nothing abnormal on the sur- 

 face of the mass. The sharper eye of the 

 owner, when she gets back, sees nothing 

 either, for she continues the victualling, with- 

 out betraying the least uneasiness. A strange 

 egg, laid on the provisions, would not escape 

 her. I know how clean she keeps her ware- 

 house; I know how scrupulously she casts out 

 anything introduced by my agency: an egg 

 that is not hers, a bit of straw, a grain of 

 dust. So, according to my evidence and that 

 of the Chalicodoma, which is more conclu- 

 258 



