The Languedocian Sphex 



When he has nothing but trackless paths, man 

 builds a solitary hut; when supplied with good 

 roads, he and his fellows collect in populous 

 cities; when served by railways which, so to 

 speak, annihilate distance, they assemble in 

 those immense human hives called London or 

 Paris. 



The situation of the Languedocian Sphex is 

 just the reverse. Her prey is a heavy Ephip- 

 piger, a single dish representing by itself the 

 sum total of provisions which the other free- 

 booters amass on numerous journeys, insect 

 by insect. What the Cerceres and the other 

 plunderers strong on the wing accomplish by 

 dividing the labour she does in a single jour- 

 ney. The weight of the prey makes any dis- 

 tant flight impossible; it has to be brought 

 home slowly and laboriously, for it is a 

 troublesome business to cart things along the 

 ground. This alone makes the site of the 

 burrow dependent on the accidents of the 

 chase: the prey comes first and the dwelling 

 next. So there is no. assembling at a com- 

 mon meeting-place, no association of kindred 

 spirits, no tribes stimulating one another in 

 their work by mutual example, but isolation in 

 the particular spot where the chances of the 

 day have taken the Sphex, solitary labour, 



