Bramble-bees and Others 



the top leaves barely the width which the in- 

 sect needs. The truncate, cone-shaped breach 

 has often been of great use to me. Its wide 

 base made it possible for me, without being 

 present at the work, to judge which of the 

 two neighbouring Osmiae had pierced the par- 

 tition; it told me the direction of a nocturnal 

 migration which I had been unable to wit- 

 ness. 



The first-hatched Osmia, wherever she may 

 be, has made a hole in her ceiling. She is 

 now in the presence of the next cocoon, with 

 her head at the opening of the hole. In front 

 of her sister's cradle, she usually stops, con- 

 sumed with shyness; she draws back into her 

 cell, flounders among the shreds of the cocoon 

 and the wreckage of the ruined ceiling; she 

 waits a day, two days, three days, more if 

 necessary. Should impatience gain the upper 

 hand, she tries to slip between the wall of the 

 tunnel and the cocoon that blocks the way. 

 She even undertakes the laborious work of 

 gnawing at the wall, so as to widen the in- 

 terval, if possible. We find these attempts, 

 in the shaft of a bramble, at places where the 

 pith is removed down to the very wood, 

 where the wood itself is gnawed to some 



21 



