o-banded Scolia is a fierce persecutor
of the Cetonia. In one sitting the same mother stabs three larvae, one
after the other, in front of my eyes. She refuses the fourth, perhaps
owing to fatigue or to exhaustion of the poison-bag. Her refusal is only
temporary. Next day, she begins again and paralyses two grubs; the day
after that, she does the same, but with a zeal that decreases from day
to day.

The other Hunting Wasps that pursue the chase far afield grip, drag,
carry their prey, after depriving it of movement, each in her own
fashion and, laden with their burden, make prolonged attempts to escape
from the bell-glass and to gain the burrow. Discouraged by these futile
endeavours, they abandon them at last. The Scolia does not remove her
quarry, which lies on its back for an indefinite time on the actual spot
of the sacrifice. When she has withdrawn her dagger from the wound, she
leaves her victim where it lies and, without taking further notice
of it, begins to flutter against the side of the glass. The paralysed
carcase is not transported elsewhere, into a special cellar; there where
the struggle has occurred it receives, upon its extended abdomen, the
egg whence the consumer of the succulent tit-bit will emerge, thus
saving the expense of setting up house. It goes without saying that
under the bell-glass the laying does not take place: the mother is too
cautious to abandon her egg to the perils of the open air.

Why then, recognizing the absence of her underground burrow, does the
Scolia uselessly pursue the Cetonia with the frantic ardour of the
Philanthus flinging herself upon the Bee? The action of the Philanthus
is explained by her passion for honey; hence the murders committed in
excess of the needs of her family. The Scolia leaves us perplexed: she
takes nothing from the Cetonia-grub, which is left without an egg; she
stabs, though well aware of the uselessness of her action: the heap of
mould is lacking and it is not her custom to transport her prey. The
other prisoners, once the blow is struck, at least seek to escape with
their capture between their legs; the Scolia attempts nothing.

After due reflection, I lump together in my suspicions all these
surgeons and ask myself whether they possess the slightest foresight,
where the egg is concerned. When, exhausted by their burden, they
recognize the impossibility of escape, the more expert among them ought
not to begin all over again; yet they do so begin