ened to me just
as often, when examining the secrets of the cell which is at once cradle
and tomb, not to come upon the deceased grub at all. I picture the
Stelis, before laying her own eggs, destroying the Chalicodoma's egg
and eating it, as the Osmiae do among themselves; or I picture the dying
thing, an irksome mass for the numerous spinners at work in a narrow
habitation, being cut to pieces to make room for the medley of cocoons.
But to so many deeds of darkness I would not like to add another by an
oversight; and I prefer to admit that I failed to perceive the grub that
died of hunger.

Let us now show up the Dioxys. At the time when the work of construction
is in progress, she is an impudent visitor of the nests, exploiting with
the same effrontery the enormous cities of the Mason-bee of the Sheds
and the solitary cupolas of the Mason-bee of the Pebbles. An innumerable
population, coming and going, humming and buzzing, strikes her with no
awe. On the tiles hanging from the walls of my porch I see her, with
her red scarf round her body, stalking with sublime assurance over the
ridged expanse of nests. Her black schemes leave the swarm profoundly
indifferent; not one of the workers dreams of chasing her off, unless
she should come bothering too closely. Even then, all that happens is
a few signs of impatience on the part of the hustled Bee. There is no
serious excitement, no eager pursuits such as the presence of a mortal
enemy might lead us to suspect. They are there in their thousands,
each armed with her dagger; any one of them is capable of slaying the
traitress; and not one attacks her. The danger is not suspected.

Meanwhile, she inspects the workyard, moves freely among the ranks of
the Masons and bides her time. If the owner be absent, I see her diving
into a cell, coming out again a moment later with her mouth smeared with
pollen. She has been to try the provisions. A dainty connoisseur, she
goes from one store to another, taking a mouthful of honey. Is it a
tithe for her personal maintenance, or a sample tested for the benefit
of her coming grub? I should not like to say. What I do know is that,
after a certain number of these tastings, I catch her stopping in a
cell, with her abdomen at the bottom and her head at the orifice. This
is the moment of laying, unless I am much mistaken.

When the parasite is gone, I inspect the home. I see nothing abnormal
on the surface of the mass. The sharper eye of the