appear from one moment to the next, issuing all dusty from the ground. She
will not be given time to brush herself or to wash her eyes: three or four
more of them will be there at once, eager to dispute her possession. I am
too familiar with the amorous contests of the Hymenopteron clan to allow
myself to be mistaken. It is the rule for the males, who are the earlier of
the two, to keep a close guard around the natal spot and watch for the
emergence of the females, whom they pester with their pursuit the moment
they reach the light of day. This is the motive of the interminable ballet
of my Scoliae. Let us have patience: perhaps we shall witness the nuptials.

The hours go by; the Pangoniae and the Gad-flies desert my umbrella; the
Scoliae grow weary and gradually disappear. It is finished. I shall see
nothing more to-day. I repeat my laborious expedition to the Bois des
Issards over and over again; and each time I see the males as assiduous as
ever in skimming over the ground. My perseverance deserved to succeed. It
did, though the success was very incomplete. Let me describe it, such as it
was; the future will fill up the gaps.

A female issues from the soil before my eyes. She flies away, followed by
several males. With the luchet I dig at the point of emergence; and, as the
excavation progresses, I sift between my fingers the rubbish of sand mixed
with mould. In the sweat of my brow, as I may justly say, I must have
removed nearly a cubic yard of material, when at last I make a find. This
is a recently ruptured cocoon, to the side of which adheres an empty skin,
the last remnant of the game on which the larva fed that wrought the said
cocoon. Considering the good condition of its silken fabric, this cocoon
may have belonged to the Scolia who has just quitted her underground
dwelling before my eyes. As for the skin accompanying it, this has been so
much spoilt by the moisture of the soil and by the grassy roots that I
cannot determine its origin exactly. The cranium, however, which is better-