THE ANTHRAX FLY 181 



pared to come back with my head aching from the glare, if 

 only I could bring home the solution of my puzzle. The 

 greater the heat, the better my chance of success. What gives 

 me torture fills the insect with delight ; what prostrates me 

 braces the Fly. 



The road shimmers like a sheet of molten steel. From the 

 dusty, melancholy olive-trees rises a mighty, throbbing hum, 

 the concert of the Cicadse, who sway and rustle with increasing 

 frenzy as the temperature increases. The Cicada of the Ash 

 adds its strident scrapings to the single note of the Common 

 Cicada. This is the moment ! For five or six weeks, oftenest 

 in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, I set myself to 

 explore the rocky waste. 



There were plenty of the nests I wanted, but I could not 

 see a single Anthrax on their surface. Not one settled in front 

 of me to lay her egg. At most, from time to time, I could see 

 one passing far away, with an impetuous rush. I would lose 

 her in the distance ; and that was all. It was impossible to 

 be present at the laying of the egg. In vain I enlisted the 

 services of the small boys who keep the sheep in our meadows, 

 and talked to them of a big black Fly and the nests on which 

 she ought to settle. By the end of August my last illusions 

 were dispelled. Not one of us had succeeded in seeing the 

 big black Fly perching on the dome of the Mason-bee. 



The reason is, I believe, that she never perches there. She 

 comes and goes in every direction across the stony plain. Her 

 practised eye can detect, as she flies, the earthen dome which 

 she is seeking, and having found it she swoops down, leaves 

 her egg on it, and makes off without setting foot on the ground. 

 Should she take a rest it will be elsewhere, on the soil, on a 

 stone, on a tuft of lavender or thyme. It is no wonder that 

 neither I nor my young shepherds could find her egg. 



Meanwhile I searched the Mason-bees' nests for grubs just 

 out of the egg. My shepherds procured me heaps of the nests, 

 enough to fill baskets and baskets ; and these I inspected at 

 leisure on my work-table. I took the cocoons from the cells, 



