The Great Cerceris 



despite my almost daily entomological ex- 

 plorations, I am still ignorant how and where 

 the celebrated Cleonus lives, though I meet 

 him occasionally, roaming on the edge of the 

 paths. O wonderful power of instinct ! In 

 the selfsame places and in a mere fraction of 

 time, our Wasps would have found by the 

 hundred these insects undiscoverable by man; 

 and they would have found them fresh and 

 glossy, doubtless just issued from their 

 nymphal cocoons 1 



No matter, let us see what we can do with 

 my pitiful bag. A Cerceris has just entered 

 her gallery with her usual prey; before she 

 comes out again for a new expedition, I place 

 a Weevil a few inches from the hole. The 

 insect moves about; when it strays too far, I 

 restore it to its position. At last, the 

 Cerceris shows her wide face and emerges 

 from the hole; my heart beats with excite- 

 ment. The Wasp stalks about the ap- 

 proaches to her home for a few moments, 

 sees the Weevil, brushes against him, turns 

 round, passes several times over his back and 

 flies away without honouring my capture with 

 a touch of her mandibles: the capture which 

 I was at such pains to acquire. I am con- 

 founded, I am floored. Fresh attempts at 

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