the poison, they have lost the power of provoking
muscular contractions; but who can say that, numbed as they are, they
no longer serve to maintain a faint vitality? The flame is extinguished,
but there is still a glowing speck upon the wick. I, a rough blunderer,
do more than blow out the lamp: I throw away the wick and all is over.
The grub would do the same if it bit straight into the mass of nerves.

Everything confirms the fact: the Scolia and the other Hunting Wasps
whose provisions consist of bulky heads of game are gifted with a
special art of eating, an exquisitely delicate art which saves a remnant
of life in the prey devoured, until it is all consumed. When the prey is
a small one, this precaution is superfluous. Consider, for instance, the
Bembex-grubs in the midst of their heap of Flies. The prey seized upon
is broached on the back, the belly, the head, the thorax, indifferently.
The larva munches a given spot, which it leaves to munch a second,
passing to a third and a fourth, at the bidding of its changing whims.
It seems to taste and select, by repeated trials, the mouthfuls most to
its liking. Thus bitton at several points, covered with wounds, the Fly
is soon a shapeless mass which would putrefy very quickly if the meagre
dish were not devoured at a single meal. Allow the Scolia-grub the same
unlicensed gluttony: it would perish beside its corpulent victim,
which should have kept fresh for a fortnight, but which almost from the
beginning would be no more than a filthy putrescence.

This art of careful eating does not seem easy to practise: at least, the
larva, if ever so little diverted from its usual courses, is no longer
able to apply its talent as a capable trencherman. This will be proved
by experiment. I must begin by observing that, when I spoke of my larva
which turned putrid within twenty-four hours, I adopted an extreme case
for the sake of greater clearness. The Scolia, taking its first bite,
does not and cannot go to such lengths. Nevertheless it behooves us to
enquire whether, in the consumption of the victuals, the initial point
of attack is a matter of indifference and whether the rummaging through
the entrails of the victim entails a determined order, without which
success is uncertain or even impossible. To these delicate questions no
one, I think, can reply. Where science is silent, perhaps the grub will
speak. We will try.

I move from its position a Scolia-grub which has attained a