220 INSECT LIFE xvi 



behind some heap of sand, and when my temporal 

 arteries beat intolerably, the last resource was to 

 shelter my head at the mouth of a rabbit hole. 

 Such are the means of getting cool in the Bois 

 des Issarts. 



The soil, unoccupied by any woody vegetation, is 

 almost bare and composed of a fine, arid, very light 

 sand, heaped by the wind in little hillocks where the 

 stems and roots of the ilex hinder its blowing about. 

 The slope of such hillocks is generally very smooth, 

 from the extreme lightness of the material, which 

 runs down into the least depression, thus restoring 

 the regularity of the surface. It is enough to thrust 

 a finger into the sand, and then to withdraw it in 

 order immediately to cause a downfall, which fills up 

 the cavity and re-establishes the former state of 

 things without leaving any trace. But at a certain 

 depth, varying according to the more or less recent 

 date of the last rains, the sand retains a dampness 

 which keeps it stable, and lends a consistency allow- 

 ing of slight excavations without roof and walls falling 

 in. A burning sun, a radiant blue sky, sand slopes 

 yielding without the least difficulty to the strokes of 

 the Hymenopteron's rake, abundant game for the 

 larvae, a peaceful site rarely troubled by the foot of 

 the passer-by,— all unite here in this paradise of the 

 Bembex. Let us see the industrious insect at work. 

 If the reader will come under my umbrella, or 

 profit by my rabbit burrow, this is the sight which 

 will meet him towards the end of July. A Bembex 

 (B. rostrata) arrives of a sudden and alights without 

 hesitation or investigation at a spot which, as far 

 as I see, differs in nothing from the rest of the 



