The Halicti : a Parasite 



the hole. The Gnat, on her side, does not stir. 



Often, they are face to face, separated by 

 a space no wider than a finger's breadth. 

 Neither of them shows the least excitement. 

 The Halictus — judging, at least, by her tran- 

 quillity — takes no notice of the parasite lying 

 in wait for her; the parasite, on the other 

 hand, displays no fear of being punished for 

 her audacity. She remains imperturbable, 

 she, the dwarf, in the presence of the colossus 

 who could crush her with one blow. 



In vain I watch anxiously for some sign of 

 apprehension on either side: nothing in the 

 Halictus points to a knowledge of the danger 

 run by her family; nor does the Gnat betray 

 any dread of swift retribution. Plunderer 

 and plundered stare at each other for a mo- 

 ment; and that is all. 



If she liked, the amiable giantess could rip 

 up with her claw the tiny bandit who ruins her 

 home; she could crunch her with her man- 

 dibles, run her through with her stiletto. She 

 does nothing of the sort, but leaves the robber 

 in peace, to sit quite close, motionless, with her 

 red eyes fixed on the threshold of the house. 

 Why this fatuous clemency? 



The Bee flics off. Forthwith, the Gnat 



379 



