The Anthrax 



codoma-grub destined to feed the Anthrax is 

 without a wound of any kind. The mother 

 of the tiny larva Is a feeble Fly deprived of 

 whatsoever weapon capable of injuring her 

 offspring's prey. Moreover, she is absolutely 

 powerless to penetrate the Mason-bee's fort- 

 ress, powerless as a fluff of down against a 

 rock. On this point there Is no doubt: the 

 future wet-nurse of the Anthrax has not been 

 paralyzed as are the live provisions collected 

 by the Hunting Wasps; she has received no 

 bite nor scratch nor contusion of any sort ; she 

 has experienced nothing out of the common: 

 in short, she is In her normal state. The 

 billeted nurseling arrives, we shall presently 

 see how; he arrives, scarcely visible, almost 

 defying the scrutiny of the lens; and, having 

 made his preparations, he Instals himself, he, 

 the atom, upon the monstrous nurse, whom he 

 is to drain to the very husk. And she, not 

 paralyzed by a preliminary vivisection, en- 

 dowed with all her normal vitality, lets him 

 have his way, lets herself be sucked dry, with 

 the utmost apathy. Not a tremor In her out- 

 raged flesh, not a quiver of resistance. No 

 corpse could show greater Indifference to the 

 bite which It receives. 



Ah, but the maggot has chosen the hour of 

 41 



