should I ever wish to recall
it, I have but to renew the mounds of sand: they will soon all be
there.

Hunters that have not disappeared, their homes being different, are the
Ammophilae, whom I see fluttering, one in spring, the others in autumn,
along the garden-walks and over the lawns, in search of a caterpillar;
the Pompili (The Pompilus is a species of Hunting-wasp known also as
the Ringed Calicurgus--Translator's Note.), who travel alertly, beating
their wings and rummaging in every corner in quest of a Spider. The
largest of them waylays the Narbonne Lycosa (Known also as the
Black-bellied Tarantula--Translator's Note.), whose burrow is not
infrequent in the harmas. This burrow is a vertical well, with a curb
of fescue-grass intertwined with silk. You can see the eyes of the
mighty Spider gleam at the bottom of the den like little diamonds, an
object of terror to most. What a prey and what dangerous hunting for
the Pompilus! And here, on a hot summer afternoon, is the Amazon-ant,
who leaves her barrack-rooms in long battalions and marches far afield
to hunt for slaves. We will follow her in her raids when we find time.
Here again, around a heap of grasses turned to mould, are Scoliae
(Large Hunting-wasps--Translator's Note.) an inch and a half long, who
fly gracefully and dive into the heap, attracted by a rich prey, the
grubs of Lamellicorns, Oryctes, and Cetoniae. (Different species of
Beetles. The Cetonia is the Rose-chafer--Translator's Note.)

What subjects for study! And there are more to come. The house was as
utterly deserted as the ground. When man was gone and peace assured,
the animal hastily seized on everything. The Warbler took up his abode
in the lilac-shrubs; the Greenfinch settled in the thick shelter of the
cypresses; the Sparrow carted rags and straw under every slate; the
Serin-finch, whose downy nest is no bigger than half an apricot, came
and chirped in the plane-tree tops; the Scops made a habit of uttering
his monotonous, piping note here, of an evening; the bird of Pallas
Athene, the Owl, came hurrying along to hoot and hiss.

In front of the house is a large pond, fed by the aqueduct that
supplies the village pumps with water. Here, from half a mile and more
around, come the Frogs and Toads in the lovers' season. The Natterjack,
sometimes as large as a plate, with a narrow stripe of yellow down his
back, makes his appointments here to take his bath; when the evening
twilight falls, we