(C. scurra, LEP.), who sports the same
gaudy costume as the first and is almost of the same size.

Now what does this newcomer, of whom I know nothing, want? A Spider,
that is certain; but which? A huntress like this will need a corpulent
quarry: perhaps the Silky Epeira (E. serica), perhaps the Banded
Epeira (E. fasciata), the largest Spiders in the district, next to the
Tarantula. The first of these spreads her large upright net, in which
Locusts are caught, from one clump of brushwood to another. I find
her in the copses on the neighbouring hills. The second stretches
hers across the ditches and the little streams frequented by the
Dragon-flies. I find her near the Aygues, beside the irrigation-canals
fed by the torrent. A couple of trips procures me the two Epeirae, whom
I offer to my captive next day, both at the same time. It is for her to
choose according to her taste.

The choice is soon made: the Banded Epeira is the one preferred. But she
does not yield without protest. On the approach of the Wasp, she rises
and assumes a defensive attitude, just like that of the Lycosa. The
Calicurgus pays no attention to threats: under her harlequin's coat, she
is violent in attack and quick on her legs. There is a rapid exchange of
fisticuffs; and the Epeira lies overturned on her back. The Pompilus is
on top of her, belly to belly, head to head; with her legs she masters
the Spider's legs; with her mandibles she grips the cephalothorax. She
curves her abdomen, bringing the tip of it beneath her; she draws her
sting and...

One moment, reader, if you please. Where is the sting about to strike?
From what we have learnt from the other paralysers, it will be driven
into the breast, to suppress the movement of the legs. That is your
opinion; it was also mine. Well, without blushing too deeply at our
common and very excusable error, let us confess that the insect knows
better than we do. It knows how to assure success by a preparatory
manoeuvre of which you and I had never dreamt. Ah, what a school is that
of the animals! Is it not true that, before striking the adversary, you
should take care not to get wounded yourself? The Harlequin Pompilus
does not disregard this counsel of prudence. The Epeira carries beneath
her throat two sharp daggers, with a drop of poison at their points;
the Calicurgus is lost if the Spider bites her. Nevertheless, her
anaesthetizing demands perfect steadiness of the lancet. What is to
be done in