The Pompili 



gestrla, however, does not touch either of 

 the two corpses, any more than she touched 

 the corpse of the Pompilus. In these mur- 

 ders the captive seems to have no other ob- 

 ject than to rid herself of a turbulent neigh- 

 bour. When appetite awakes, perhaps the 

 victims will be turned to account. They 

 were not ; and the fault was mine. I placed 

 in the jar a Bumble-bee of average size. A 

 day later the Spider was dead; the rude 

 sharer of her captivity had done the deed. 



Let us say no more of these unequal duels 

 in the glass prison and complete the story 

 of the Pompilus whom we left at the foot of 

 the wall with the paralysed Segestria. She 

 abandons her prey on the ground and returns 

 to the wall. She visits the Spider's funnels 

 one by one, walking on them as freely as on 

 the stones; she inspects the silken tubes, 

 dipping her antennae into them, sounding 

 and exploring them; she enters without the 

 least hesitation. Whence does she now de- 

 rive the temerity thus to enter the Segestria's 

 haunts? But a little while ago, she was dis- 

 playing extreme caution ; at this moment, she 

 seems heedless of danger. The fact is that 

 there is no danger really. The Wasp is 

 inspecting uninhabited jiouses. When she 

 dives down a silken tunnel, she very well 

 25 



