More Hunting Wasps 



from it. Then she flew away. It was all 

 over. The egg was laid; the insect had fin- 

 ished for better or for worse; and I was able 

 to proceed with my examination of the bur- 

 row and its contents. 



The Pompilus has done no digging. It 

 is really an accidental hole with spacious 

 winding passages, the result of the mason's 

 negligence and not of the Wasp's industry. 

 The closing of the cavity is quite as rough 

 and summary. A few crumbs of mortar, 

 heaped up before the doorway, form a bar- 

 ricade rather than a door. A mighty hunter 

 makes a poor architect. The Tarantula's 

 murderess does not know how to dig a cell 

 for her larva ; she does not know how to fill 

 up the entrance by sweeping dust into it. 

 The first hole encountered at the foot of a 

 wall contents her, provided that it be roomy 

 enough; a little heap of rubbish will do for 

 a door. Nothing could be more expeditious. 



I withdraw the game from the hole. The 

 egg is stuck to the Spider, near the begin- 

 ning of the belly. A clumsy movement on 

 my part makes it fall off at the moment of 

 extraction. It is all over : the thing will not 

 hatch; I shall not be able to observe the 

 development of the larva. The Tarantula 

 lies motionless, flexible as in life, with not 

 6 



