e told, have acquired the habit of living on others
in order to save themselves work and to lead an easier life. The poor
wretches have made a sorry blunder. Their life is of the hardest. If a
few establish themselves comfortably, dearth and dire famine await most
of the rest. There are some--look at certain of the Oil-beetles--exposed
to so many chances of destruction that, to save one, they are obliged to
procreate a thousand. They seldom enjoy a free meal. Some stray into
the houses of hosts whose victuals do not suit them; others find only
a ration quite insufficient for their needs; others--and these are very
numerous--find nothing at all. What misadventures, what disappointments
do these needy creatures suffer, unaccustomed as they are to work! Let
me relate some of their misfortunes, gleaned at random.

The Girdled Dioxys (D. cincta) loves the ample honey-stores of the
Chalicodoma of the Pebbles. There she finds abundant food, so abundant
that she cannot eat it all. I have already passed censure on this waste.
(Cf. "The Mason-bees": chapter 10.--Translator's Note.) Now a little
Osmia (O. cyanoxantha, Perez) makes her nest in the Mason's deserted
cells; and this Bee, a victim of her ill-omened dwelling, also harbours
the Dioxys. This is a manifest error on the parasite's part. The nest of
the Chalicodoma, the hemisphere of mortar on its pebble, is what she is
looking for, to confide her eggs to it. But the nest is now occupied
by a stranger, by the Osmia, a circumstance unknown to the Dioxys, who
comes stealing up to lay her egg in the mother's absence. The dome
is familiar to her. She could not know it better if she had built it
herself. Here she was born; here is what her family wants. Moreover,
there is nothing to arouse her suspicions: the outside of the home has
not changed its appearance in any respect; the stopper of gravel and
green putty, which later will form a violent contrast with its white
front, is not yet constructed. She goes in and sees a heap of honey.
To her thinking this can be nothing but the Chalicodoma's portion. We
ourselves would be beguiled, in the Osmia's absence. She lays her eggs
in this deceptive cell.

Her mistake, which is easy to understand, does not in any way detract
from her great talents as a parasite, but it is a serious matter for
the future larva. The Osmia, in fact, in view of her small dimensions,
collects but a very scanty store of food: a little loaf of pollen and
honey