invariably chosen for laying the egg. With not a single exception, on
all the victims extracted from the heap of garden mould--and they are
numerous--the egg is fixed behind the ventral surface, on the verge of
the brown patch formed by the contents of the digestive system.

If there be nothing to guide her, what chance has the mother of gluing
her egg to this point, which is always the same because it is that most
favourable to successful rearing? A very small point, represented by
the ratio of two or three square millimetres (About 1/100 square
inch.--Translator's Note.) to the entire surface of the victim's body.

Is this all? Not yet. The grub is hatched; it pierces the belly of the
Cetonia-larva at the requisite point; it plunges its long neck into the
entrails, ransacking them and filling itself to repletion. If it bite at
random, if it have no other guide in the selection of tit-bits than the
preference of the moment and the violence of an imperious appetite, it
will infallibly incur the danger of being poisoned by putrid food, for
the victim, if wounded in those organs which preserve a remnant of life
in it, will die for good and all at the first mouthfuls.

The ample joint must be consumed with prudent skill: this part must be
eaten before that and, after that, some other portion, always according
to method, until the time approaches for the last bites. This marks the
end of life for the Cetonia, but it also marks the end of the Scolia's
feasting. If the grub be a novice in the art of eating, if no special
instinct guide its mandibles in the belly of the prey, what chance has
it of completing its perilous meal? As much as a starving Wolf
would have of daintily dissecting his Sheep, when he tears at her
gluttonously, rends her into shreds and gulps them down.

These four conditions of success, with chance so near to zero in each
case, must all be realized together, or the grub will never be reared.
The Scolia may have captured a larva with close-packed nerve-centres,
a Cetonia-grub, for instance; but this will go for nothing unless she
direct her sting towards the only vulnerable point. She may know the
whole secret of the art of stabbing her victim, but this means nothing
if she does not know where to fasten her egg. The suitable spot may be
found, but all the foregoing will be useless if the grub be not versed
in the method to be followed in devouring its prey while keeping it
alive. It is all or nothing.