252. Trans. Acad. Sci. of St. Louis 
inhabitant showing any semblance to normal activity is 
the grass-carrying wasp, Chlorion auripes. Four moth- 
ers have been busy all this dull, gray day carrying in 
blades of grass to plug up their nests in the old bur- 
rows of the carpenter-bees. All the creatures of the unit 
are now practically ready for their long winter sleep. 
Soon the bank, frozen or snow-covered, will look utterly 
barren and lifeless, yet within that mass of earth is life 
—potential life that in the warm days of spring will 
burst forth with renewed vigor, ready to battle again in 
sharp competition for the possession of a small portion 
of the earth which they may call home.”’ 
With the approach of cold weather the carpenter-bees 
crowd into their tunnels and quietly await death. This 
I suspected one spring when I opened a nest in a piece 
of wood which contained six adults, all dead. During 
eold days they often remain in the cells, crowded close 
together, and come out again when the day grows 
warmer. I have seen them come out for a little while 
as late as October 13. On another occasion in early 
September, I watched in vain for two days, for the oc 
cupants of a nest. Concluding at length that they had 
joined the heavenly choir, I proceeded to investigate 
with an ax. At the first blow, a loud chorus of buzzing 
greeted me, and then one by one twelve bees, each an- 
grier than the last, flew out of the tunnel. This startling 
experience made me wonder if it is not possible that part 
if not all of them, hibernate in this way instead of dying 
with the first cold of autumn. It seems to me that in 
mild winters or in the southern states they might easily 
hibernate thus. 
There is some evidence that the clearness of the light 
may be a factor in the homing behavior of the mining 
