The Hairy Ammophila 333 



the soil on foot, little by little, without hurry- 

 ing ; she lashes the ground continually with 

 her antennae curved like a bow. The bare soil, 

 the pebbly bits, the grassy parts are visited 

 without distinction. For nearly three hours, 

 in the heat of the sun, in sultry weather which 

 means rain to-morrow and a few drops to-night, 

 I watch the Ammophila's search, without taking 

 my eyes from her for a second. What a difficult 

 thing a Grey Worm is to find, for a Wasp who 

 needs it just at that moment ! 



It is no less difficult for man. The reader 

 knows my method of witnessing the surgical 

 operation to which a Hunting Wasp subjects 

 her prey, with a view to giving her grubs flesh 

 that is lifeless but not dead. I rob the mar- 

 auder of her spoil and, in exchange, give her 

 a live prey, similar to her own. I was arranging 

 the same manoeuvre with regard to the Ammo- 

 phila, so that, after she had smitten her cater- 

 pillar, which she was bound to find at any 

 moment now, I might make her perform the 

 operation a second time. I was therefore in 

 urgent need of a few Grey Worms. 



Favier was there, gardening. I called out 

 to him : 



' Come here, quick ; I want some Grey 

 Worms ! ' 



I explain the thing to him ; for that matter. 



