194 A NATURALIST IN HIMALAYA 



feed for a minute, then resume its work. For one 

 half the tunnel remains to be filled in. 



Now is the time to expose the insect's folly. I 

 open the tunnel, lay bare the cell, extract the cater- 

 pillar with the white elliptical egg adherent to one 

 side. I lay the caterpillar right across the entrance of 

 the ruined tunnel that leads to the pillaged cell. The 

 problem is : What will the wasp do when she returns to 

 her labour ? She left behind a tunnel, the inner half 

 walled, the outer half not yet complete. She returns 

 to find another picture. Facing her tunnel is the 

 larva and egg, the object of all her toil ; within is the 

 ruin of her work ; her solid wall is no more ; at the 

 end of her tunnel is a broken and an empty cell. 

 Surely she will recognize all this ; she will either 

 replace the caterpillar and repair the damage or desert 

 the hopeless ruin. 



But no. The wasp returns. She approaches the 

 tunnel as though oblivious of any change. She treads 

 on the caterpillar lying at the entrance ; she stands 

 astride of her own egg, but sees nor cares nothing 

 for it. She reaches the mouth of the tunnel. Before 

 her lies desolation and ruin ; within is the pillaged 

 cell ; but to the wasp all is in good order. She has 

 returned for one object, to seal the outer half of her 

 tunnel. To the fulfilment of that duty she is now so 

 abject a slave that she is impelled to do it whether 

 she wills it or no. So she continues where she left 

 off. She shuffles earth into the ruined tunnel, pours 

 dust into the empty cell, discards the exposed cater- 

 pillar, in fact resumes her labour just as if nothing- 

 had happened and cell and tunnel were in perfect 

 order. 



