nd, along the prostrate victim, feels with its tip, gropes about
a little and ends by reaching the under part of the neck. The sting
enters, lingers for a moment in the wound; and all is over. Without
releasing her prey, which is still tightly clasped, the murderess
restores her abdomen to its normal position and keeps it pressed against
the Bee's.

In the second method, the Philanthus operates standing. Resting on her
hind-legs and on the tips of her unfurled wings, she proudly occupies
an erect attitude, with the Bee held facing her between her four
front legs. To give the poor thing a position suited to receive the
dagger-stroke, she turns her round and back again with the rough
clumsiness of a child handling its doll. Her pose is magnificent to look
at. Solidly planted on her sustaining tripod, the two hinder tarsi and
the tips of the wings, she at last crooks her abdomen upwards and
again stings the Bee under the chin. The originality of the Philanthus'
posture at the moment of the murder surpasses the anything that I have
hitherto seen.

The desire for knowledge in natural history has its cruel side. To learn
precisely the point attacked by the sting and to make myself
thoroughly acquainted with the horrible talent of the murderess, I
have investigated more assassinations under glass than I would dare to
confess. Without a single exception, I have always seen the Bee stung
in the throat. In the preparations for the final blow, the tip of the
abdomen may well come to rest on this or that point of the thorax
or abdomen; but it does not stop at any of these, nor is the sting
unsheathed, as can readily be ascertained. Indeed, once the contest is
opened, the Philanthus becomes so entirely absorbed in her operation
that I can remove the cover and follow every vicissitude of the tragedy
with my pocket-lens.

After recognizing the invariable position of the wound, I bend back and
open the articulation of the head. I see under the Bee's chin a white
spot, measuring hardly a twenty-fifth of an inch square, where the horny
integuments are lacking and the delicate skin is shown uncovered. It
is here, always here, in this tiny defect in the armour, that the sting
enters. Why is this spot stabbed rather than another? Can it be the only
vulnerable point, which would necessarily determine the thrust of the
lancet? Should any one entertain so petty a thought, I advise him to
open the articulation of the corselet, behind the fir