42 The Hunting IVasps 



Cerceris performs so quickly and so prettily, 

 that is, if we are stupid enough to assume 

 that her captured prey actually becomes a 

 corpse. 



A corpse ! But that is by no means the 

 fare prescribed for the larvse, those little ogres 

 clamouring for fresh meat, whom game ever so 

 slightly high would inspire with insurmountable 

 disgust. They want meat killed that day, with 

 no suspicion of taint, the first sign of corruption. 

 Nevertheless, the prey cannot be packed into 

 the cell alive, as we pack the cattle destined to 

 furnish fresh meat for the passengers and crew 

 of a ship. What indeed would become of the 

 delicate ^g'g laid among live provisions ? What 

 would become of the feeble larva, a tiny grub 

 which the least touch would bruise, among 

 lusty Beetles who would go on kicking for weeks 

 with their long, spurred legs ? We need here 

 two things which seem utterly irreconcilable : 

 the immobility of death combined with the sweet 

 wholesomeness of life. Before such a dietetic 

 problem the most deeply read layman would 

 stand powerless ; the practical entomologist 

 himself would own himself beaten. The Cer- 

 ceris' larder would defy their reasoning power. 



Let us then suppose an academy of anatomists 

 and physiologists ; let us imagine a congress at 

 which the question is raised among such men as 



