nces therefore could not be more favourable. We will inspect
the cells without further delay.

My preparations are made at once: I button my clothes tightly, so as
to afford the Bees the least possible opportunity, and I enter the
heart of the swarm. A few blows of the mattock, which arouse a far
from reassuring crescendo in the humming of the Anthophorae, soon
place me in possession of a lump of earth; and I beat a hasty retreat,
greatly astonished to find myself still safe and sound and unpursued.
But the lump of earth which I have removed is from a part too near the
surface; it contains nothing but Osmia-cells, which do not interest me
for the moment. A second expedition is made, lasting longer than the
first; and, though my retreat is effected without great precipitation,
not an Anthophora has touched me with her sting, nor even shown
herself disposed to fall upon the aggressor.

This success emboldens me. I remain permanently in front of the work
in progress, continually removing lumps of earth filled with cells,
spilling the liquid honey on the ground, eviscerating larvae and
crushing the Bees busily occupied in their nests. All this devastation
results merely in arousing a louder hum in the swarm and is not
followed by any hostile demonstration. The Anthophorae whose cells are
not hurt go about their labours as if nothing unusual were happening
round about them; those whose dwellings are overturned try to repair
them, or hover distractedly in front of the ruins; but none of them
seems inclined to swoop down upon the author of the damage. At most, a
few, more irritated than the rest, come at intervals and hover before
my face, confronting me at a distance of a couple of inches, and then
fly away, after a few moments of this curious inspection.

Despite the selection of a common site for their nests, which might
suggest an attempt at communistic interests among the Anthophorae,
these Bees, therefore, obey the egotistical law of each one for
himself and do not know how to band themselves together to repel an
enemy who threatens one and all. Taken singly, the Anthophora does not
even know how to dash at the enemy who is ravaging her cells and drive
him away with her stings; the pacific creature hastily leaves its
dwelling when disturbed by undermining and escapes in a crippled
state, sometimes even mortally wounded, without thinking of making use
of its venomous sting, except when it is seized and handled. Many
ot