of my subjects, one only. A pane of glass covers the mouth of the
receptacle. In this way I prevent a too rapid evaporation and keep my
nurselings under my eyes without fear of disturbing them. Now that all this
is in order, let us proceed to record events.

The Cetonia-larvae which I find with a Scolia's egg upon their ventral
surface are distributed in the mould at random, without special cavities,
without any sign of some sort of structure. They are smothered in the
mould, just as are the larvae which have not been injured by the Wasp. As
my excavations in the Bois des Issards told me, the Scolia does not prepare
a lodging for her family; she knows nothing of the art of cell-building.
Her offspring occupies a fortuitous abode, on which the mother expends no
architectural pains. Whereas the other Hunting Wasps prepare a dwelling to
which the provisions are carried, sometimes from a distance, the Scolia
confines herself to digging her bed of leaf-mould until she comes upon a
Cetonia-larva. When she finds a quarry, she stabs it on the spot, in order
to immobilize it; and, again on the spot, she lays an egg on the ventral
surface of the paralysed creature. That is all. The mother goes in quest of
another prey without troubling further about the egg which has just been
laid. There is no effort of carting or building. At the very spot where the
Cetonia-grub is caught and paralysed, the Scolia-larva hatches, grows and
weaves its cocoon. The establishment of the family is thus reduced to the
simplest possible expression.


CHAPTER 3. A DANGEROUS DIET.

The Scolia's egg is in no way exceptional in shape. It is white,
cylindrical, straight and about four millimetres long by one millimetre
thick. (About .156 x .039 inch.--Translator's Note.) It is fixed, by its