The Pompili 



a trace of a wound. In short, we have here 

 life without movement. From time to time 

 the tips of the tarsi quiver a little; and that 

 is all. Accustomed of old to these deceptive 

 corpses, I can see in my mind's eye what has 

 happened: the Spider has been stung in the 

 region of the thorax, no doubt once only, 

 in view of the concentration of her nervous 

 system. I place the victim in a box in which 

 it retains all the pliancy and all the fresh- 

 ness of life from the 2nd of August to the 

 20th of September, that is to say, for seven 

 weeks. These miracles are famiUar to us; ^ 

 there is no need to linger over them here. ' 

 The most important matter has escaped 

 me. What I wanted, what I still want to 

 see is the Pompilus engaged in mortal com- 

 bat with the Lycosa. What a duel, in which 

 the cunning of the one has to overcome the 

 terrible weapons of the other! Does the 

 Wasp enter the burrow to surprise the Ta- 

 rantula at the bottom of her lair? Such 

 temerity would be fatal to her. Where the 

 big Bumble-bee dies an instant death, the 

 audacious visitor would perish the moment 

 she entered. Is not the other there, facing 

 her, ready to snap at the back of her head, 

 inflicting a wound which would result in sud- 



1 Cf, The Hunting Wasps: passim. — Translator's Note. 

 7 



