the
masons ended by evicting the sporting tribe; but, should I ever wish to
recall it, I have but to renew the mounds of sand: they will soon all be
there.

Hunters that have not disappeared, their homes being different, are the
Ammophilae, whom I see fluttering, one in spring, the others in autumn,
along the garden walks and over the lawns, in search of a caterpillar;
the Pompili [digger or hunting wasp], who travel alertly, beating their
wings and rummaging in every corner in quest of a spider. The largest
of them waylays the Narbonne Lycosa [known also as the black-bellied
tarantula], whose burrow is not infrequent in the harmas. This burrow is
a vertical well, with a curb of fescue grass intertwined with silk. You
can see the eyes of the mighty Spider gleam at the bottom of the den
like little diamonds, an object of terror to most. What a prey and what
dangerous hunting for the Pompilus! And here, on a hot summer afternoon,
is the Amazon ant, who leaves her barrack rooms in long battalions and
marches far afield to hunt for slaves. We will follow her in her raids
when we find time. Here again, around a heap of grasses turned to mould,
are Scoliae [large hunting wasps] an inch and a half long, who fly
gracefully and dive into the heap, attracted by a rich prey, the grubs
of Lamellicorns, Orycotes and Ceotoniae [various beetles].

What subjects for study! And there are more to come. The house was as
utterly deserted as the ground. When man was gone and peace assured, the
animal hastily seized on everything. The warbler took up his abode in
the lilac shrubs; the greenfinch settled in the thick shelter of the
cypresses; the sparrow carted rags and straw under every slate; the
Serin finch, whose downy nest is no bigger than half an apricot, came
and chirped in the plane tree tops; the Scops made a habit of uttering
his monotonous, piping note here, of an evening; the bird of Pallas
Athene, the owl, came hurrying along to hoot and hiss.

In front of the house is a large pond, fed by the aqueduct that supplies
the village pumps with water. Here, from half a mile and more around,
come the frogs and Toads in the lovers' season. The natterjack,
sometimes as large as a plate, with a narrow stripe of yellow down his
back, makes his appointments here to take his bath; when the evening
twilight falls, we see hopping along the edge the midwife toad, the
male, who carries a cluster of eggs, the size of peppercorns, wrapped
round