Hitherto I had but one means of studying the operative methods of the spoilers: to surprise the Wasp in possession of her capture, to rob her of her prey and immediately to give her in exchange a similar prey, but a living one. This method of substitution is an excellent expedient. Its only defect--a very grave one--is that it subjects observation to very uncertain chances. There is little prospect of meeting the insect dragging its victim along; and, in the second place, should good fortune suddenly smile upon you, preoccupied as you are with other matters you have not the substitute at hand. If we provide ourselves with the necessary head of game in advance, the huntress is not there. We avoid one reef to founder on another. Moreover, these unlooked for observations, made sometimes on the public highway, the worst of laboratories, are only half-satisfactory. In the case of swiftly-enacted scenes, which it is not in our power to renew again and again until perfect conviction is reached, we always fear lest we may not have seen accurately, may not have seen everything.
A method which could be controlled at will would offer the best guarantees, above all if employed at home, under comfortable conditions, favourable to precision. I wished, therefore, to see my insects at work on the actual table at which I am writing their history. Here very few of their secrets would escape me. This wish of mine was an old one. As a beginner, I made some experiments under glass with the Great Cerceris (C. tuberculata) and the Yellow-winged Sphex. Neither of them responded to my desires. The refusal of each to attack respectively her Cleonus or her Cricket discouraged further progress in this direction. I was wrong to abandon my attempts so soon. Now, very long afterwards, the idea occurs to me to place under glass the Bee-eating Philanthus, whom I sometimes surprise in the open engaged in forcing a bee to disgorge her honey. The captive massacres her bees in such a spirited fashion that the old hope revives stronger than ever. I contemplate reviewing all the wielders of the stiletto and forcing each to reveal her tactics.
I was obliged to abate these ambitions considerably. I had some successes and many more failures. I will tell you of the former. My insect-cage is a spacious dome of wire-gauze resting on a bed of sand. Here I keep in reserve the captives of my hunting-expeditions. I feed them on honey, placed in little drops on spikes of lavender, on heads of thistle, or field eryngo, or globe-thistle, according to the season. Most of my prisoners do well on this diet and seem scarcely affected by their internment; others pine away and die in two or three days. These victims of despair nearly always throw me back, because of the difficulty of obtaining the necessary prey at short notice.
Indeed it entails no small trouble to secure in the nick of time the game demanded by the huntress who has recently fallen a captive to my net. As assistant-purveyors I have a few small schoolboys, who, released from the tedium of their declensions and conjugations, set out, on leaving the classroom, to inspect the greenswards and beat the bushes in the neighbourhood on my behalf. The gros sou, the penny-piece, if you please, stimulates their zeal; but with misadventurous results! What I need to-day is Crickets. The band sallies forth and returns with not a single Cricket, but numbers of Ephippigers, for which I asked the day before yesterday and which I no longer need, my Languedocian Sphex being dead. General surprise at this sudden change of market. My young scatterbrains find it hard to understand that the beast which was so precious two days ago is now of no value whatever. When, owing to the chances of my net, a renewed demand for the Ephippiger sets in, then they will bring me the Cricket, the despised Cricket.
Such a trade could never hold out if now and again my speculators were not encouraged by some success. At the moment when urgent necessity is sending up prices, one of them brings me a magnificent Gad-fly intended for the Bembex. For two hours, when the sun was at its height, he kept watch on the threshing-floor hard by, waiting for the blood-sucker, in order to catch him on the buttocks of the Mules which trot round and round trampling the corn. This gallant fellow shall have his gros sou and a slice of bread and jam as well. A second, no less fortunate, has found a fat Spider, the Epeira, for whom my Pompili are waiting. To the two sous of this fortunate youth I add a little picture for his missal. Thus are my purveyors kept going; and, after all, their help would be very inadequate if I did not take upon myself the main burden of these wearisome quests.
Once in possession of the requisite prey, I transfer the huntress from my warehouse, the wire-gauze cage, to a bell-glass varying in capacity from one to three or four litres (1 3/4 to 5 or 7 pints.--Translator's Note.), according to the size and habits of the combatants; I place the victim in the arena; I expose the bell-glass to the direct rays of the sun, without which condition the executioner as a rule declines to operate; I arm myself with patience and await events.
We will begin with the Hairy Ammophila, my neighbour. Year after year, when April comes, I see her in considerable numbers, very busy on the paths in my enclosure. Until June I see her digging her burrows and searching for the Grey Worm, to be placed in the meat-cellar. Her tactics are the most complex that I know and more than any other deserves to be thoroughly studied. To capture the cunning vivisector, to release her and catch her again I find an easy matter for the best part of a month; she works outside my door.
