The Leaf-cutters 



the sun. Save in a few cases, therefore, the 

 Shrike does not collect the dead and with- 

 ered remains: it is from the growing plants 

 that he reaps his harvest, mowing them down 

 with his beak and leaving the sheaves to dry 

 in the sun before using them. I caught him 

 one day hopping about and pecking at the 

 twigs of a Biscayan bindweed. He was get- 

 ting in his hay, strewing the ground with it. 

 The evidence of the Shrike, confirmed by 

 that of all the other workers — weavers, bas- 

 ket-makers or woodcutters — whom we may 

 care to call as witnesses, shows us what a large 

 part must be assigned to discernment in the 

 bird's choice of materials for its nest. Is the 

 insect as highly gifted? When it works with 

 vegetable matter, is it exclusive in its tastes? 

 Does it know only one definite plant, its 

 special province? Or has it, for employment 

 in its manufactures, a varied flora, in which 

 its discernment exercises a free choice? For 

 answers to these questions we may look, 

 above all, to the Leaf-cutting Bees, the Me- 

 gachilcs. Reaumur has told the story of 

 their industry in detail; and I refer the read- 

 er who wishes for further particulars to the 

 master's Memoirs. 



239 



