220 THE WONDERS OF INSTINCT 



lift, lets itself drop upon the game that remains. And 

 thus the banquet ends in normal fashion. 



This is what I saw in the nests of both species of the 

 Eumenes and that is what I showed to friends who 

 were even more surprised than I by these ingenious 

 tactics. The egg hanging from the ceiling, at a distance 

 from the provisions, has naught to fear from the cater- 

 pillars, which flounder about below. The new-hatched 

 larva, whose suspensory cord is lengthened by the 

 sheath of the egg, reaches the game and takes a first 

 cautious bite at it. If there be danger, it climbs back 

 to the ceiling by retreating inside the scabbard. This 

 explains the failure of my earlier attempts. Not know- 

 ing of the safety-thread, so slender and so easily broken, 

 I gathered at one time the egg, at another the young 

 larva, after my inroads at the top had caused them to 

 fall into the middle of the live victuals. Neither of them 

 was able to thrive when brought into direct contact with 

 the dangerous game. 



If any one of my readers, to whom I appealed just 

 now, has thought out something better than the 

 Eumenes* invention, I beg that he will let me know: 

 there is a curious parallel to be drawn between the in- 

 spirations of reason and the inspirations of instinct. 



