consort's leading characteristic.

It is not without a certain alarm that the insect-collector finds himself
for the first time confronted by the Garden Scolia. How is he to capture
the imposing creature, how to avoid its sting? If its effect is in
proportion to the Wasp's size, the sting of the Scolia must be something
terrible. The Hornet, though she unsheath her weapon but once, causes the
most exquisite pain. What would it be like if one were stabbed by this
colossus? The prospect of a swelling as big as a man's fist and as painful
as the touch of a red-hot iron passes through our mind at the moment when
we are bringing down the net. And we refrain, we beat a retreat, we are
greatly relieved not to have aroused the dangerous creature's attention.

Yes, I confess to having run away from my first Scoliae, anxious though I
was to enrich my budding collection with this magnificent insect. There
were painful recollections of the Common Wasp and the Hornet connected with
this excess of prudence. I say excess, for to-day, instructed by long
experience, I have quite recovered from my former fears; and, when I see a
Scolia resting on a thistle-head, I do not scruple to take her in my
fingers, without any precaution whatever, however large she may be and
however menacing her aspect. My courage is not all that it seems to be; I
am quite ready to tell the Wasp-hunting novice this. The Scoliae are
notably peaceable. Their sting is an implement of labour far more than a
weapon of war; they use it to paralyse the prey destined for their
offspring; and only in the last extremity do they employ it in self-
defence. Moreover, the lack of agility in their movements nearly always
enables us to avoid their sting; and, even if we be stung, the pain is
almost insignificant. This absence of any acute smarting as a result of the
poison is almost constant in the Hunting Wasps, whose weapon is a surgical
lancet and devised for the most delicate physiological operations.