The Scoliae 



which heaps itself into a mound as though 

 heaved up by the snout of some tiny Mole. 

 The insect sallies forth; and the mound col- 

 lapses, completely filling up the exit-hole. 

 If the Wasp is entering the ground, the dig- 

 ging-operations, undertaken at an arbitrary 

 point, quickly yield a cavity in which the 

 Scolia disappears, separated from the sur- 

 face by the whole track of shifted material. 



I can easily trace her passage through the 

 thickness of the soil by certain long, winding 

 cylinders, formed of loose materials in the 

 midst of compact and stable earth. These 

 cyhnders are numerous; they sometimes run 

 to a depth of twenty inches; they extend in 

 all directions, fairly often crossing one an- 

 other. Not one of them ever exhibits so 

 much as a suspicion of an open gallery. 

 They are obviously not permanent ways of 

 communication with the outer world, but 

 hunting-trails which the insect has followed 

 once, without going back to them. What 

 was the Wasp seeking when she riddled the 

 soil with these tunnels which are now full 

 of running sands? No doubt the food for 

 her family, the larva of which I possess the 

 empty skin, now an unrecognizable shred. 



I begin to see a little Hght : the Scoliae are 

 underground workers. I already expected 

 41 



