THE MASON BEES 



(Anthophora sp.) 



As I turned into the little trail and climbed the 

 steep, rock-strewn slope that leads up to the 

 entrance of the precipitous canon behind my 

 house, the herb-scented winds that blew so 

 steadily from off the warm sands bore to me the 

 hum of industrious bees. Turning expectantly, 

 I walked back to my right a short distance, and 

 there at the base of an enormous rock I found 

 the dry, bare, hard-baked ground covered deep 

 with small pellets of earth resembling worm 

 castings, and riddled with the holes of solitary 

 bees. So many were the burrows that the 

 ground looked like the top of an enormous 

 pepper-box. Above were thousands of busy in- 

 sects flying about — a bedazzling, buzzing 

 cloud of industry that almost made me be- 

 wildered as I looked at it. I took it for granted 

 that the bees were tolerant creatures and too 

 busy to give me much attention with their 

 stings, and in this confidence I was not disap- 



