Clifton College Scientific Society. 13 



these flowers to attach themselves to any of the Andrenidce 

 that may alight on them, or come sufficiently near for them 

 to leap on it.' 



Once back in her own nest, the bee has no need to take 

 pains to rid herself of her strange bui-den ; the larva is now 

 as anxious to quit the carriage as it was before to find a seat 

 in it ; therefore, no sooner is the subterranean terminus 

 reached, than the ill-assorted couple separate, the young 

 oil beetle dropping into a cell, where it takes up its abode 

 for the next nine or ten months. 



But there is another phase in this singular life history 

 which must not be forgotten. The bees have among them- 

 selves, and of their own order (the Hy menoptera) , certain mem- 

 bers who are unable, from the structure of their feet (having 

 rounded instead of flat tarsi), to lay up a store of pollen. 

 Taking advantage, therefore, of their relationship to honey- 

 making bees, these Cuculince, or cuckoo bees (as they are 

 aptly denominated by Latreille), deposit their eggs in the 

 well-stored cells of some industrious earth-burro wer. Strange 

 to say, the true bee sees nothing odd in some of her cells 

 being already occupied, but passes on to another, and in 

 the end pays as much attention to the little strangers, and 

 lavishes as much care upon them, as does the hedge sparrow 

 on the young of the cuckoo among birds. But although thus 

 incapacitated by their peculiar conformation from under- 

 taking the cares and the duties of a nursery, these insect 

 cuckoos in other respects behave themselves after the fashion 

 of bees generally, frequenting the flowers and burying them- 

 selves in the rich pollen, as though they were the most 

 active collectors of honey in existence. This brief account 

 is meant to preface the curious fact, that the young oil 

 beetle is perfectly conscious that if he attaches himself to 

 a cuckoo bee, he will be borne to his destination as surely 

 and as speedily as though he were riding with the rightful 

 owner of the nest. Accordingly he lays hold of a Nomacla or 

 a Ccelioxys as readily as he does of a Eucera or an Andrcena. 



But there is yet another, and still more striking, stage 

 in 'this strange eventful history.' Among the numerous 

 enemies which prey upon bees is an elegant two- winged fly, 

 called Volucella', one of the species is not uncommon in 

 gardens, darting from flower to flower, and conspicuous by a 

 broad yellow band which traverses the dark-brown ground 

 of its body. From the rapidity of its movements and the 

 transparency of this coloured band, it is well named Volu- 

 cella pellucenos. Not that the fly itself ever destroys the 



