102 THE WONDERS OF INSTINCT 



with its game, she makes her way into our houses and 

 remains until the hard frosts. 



This suits my stay-at-home habits and especially my 

 legs, which are bending under the weight of years. I 

 need not run after the subjects of my present study ; they 

 call on me. Besides, I have vigilant assistants. The 

 household knows of my plans. One and all bring me, in 

 a little screw of paper, the noisy visitor just captured 

 against the panes. 



Thus do I fill my vivarium, which consists of a large, 

 bell-shaped cage of wire-gauze, standing in an earthen- 

 ware pan full of sand. A mug containing honey is the 

 dining-room of the establishment. Here the captives 

 come to recruit themselves in their hours of leisure. To 

 occupy their maternal cares, I employ small birds — 

 Chaffinches, Linnets, Sparrows — brought down, in the 

 enclosure, by my son's gun. 



I have just served up a Linnet shot two days ago. I 

 next place in the cage a Bluebottle, one only, to avoid 

 confusion. Her fat belly proclaims the advent of laying- 

 time. An hour later, when the excitement of being put 

 in prison is allayed, my captive is in labor. With eager, 

 jerky steps, she explores the morsel of game, goes from 

 the head to the tail, returns from the tail to the head, 

 repeats the action several times and at last settles near 

 an eye, a dimmed eye sunk into its socket. 



The ovipositor bends at a right angle and dives into 

 the junction of the beak, straight down to the root. 

 Then the eggs are emitted for nearly half an hour. The 

 layer, utterly absorbed in her serious business, remains 



