More Hunting Wasps 



with its head touching the bleeding wound, 

 and lay the whole on a bed of mould in a 

 transparent beaker protected by a pane of 

 glass. 



Unable to move, to wriggle, to scratch with 

 its legs or snap with its mandibles, the Ce- 

 tonia-larva, a new Prometheus bound, offers 

 its defenceless flanks to the little Vulture 

 destined to devour its entrails. Without 

 too much hesitation, the young Scolia settles 

 down to the wound made by my scalpel, 

 which to the grub represents the wound 

 whence I have just removed it. It thrusts 

 its neck into the belly of its prey; and for a 

 couple of days all seems to go well. Then, 

 lo and behold, the Cetonia turns putrid and 

 the Scolia dies, poisoned by the ptomaines 

 of the decomposing game I As before, I 

 see it turn brown and die on the spot, still 

 half inside the toxic corpse. 



The fatal issue of my experiment is easily 

 explained. The Cetonia-larva is alive in 

 every sense. True, I have, by means of 

 bonds, suppressed its outward movements, 

 in order to provide the nurseling with a quiet 

 meal, devoid of danger; but it was not in 

 my power to subdue its internal movements, 

 the quivering of the viscera and muscles irri- 

 tated by its forced immobility and by the 

 70 



