The Wonders of Instinct | Page 7

Wild
Bees.--Translator's Note.) I omit a host of others. If I tried to continue

this record of the guests of my thistles, it would muster almost the
whole of the honey-yielding tribe. A learned entomologist of Bordeaux,
Professor P‚rez, to whom I submit the naming of my prizes, once asked
me if I had any special means of hunting, to send him so many rarities
and even novelties. I am not at all an experienced and still less a
zealous hunter, for the insect interests me much more when engaged in
its work than when stuck on a pin in a cabinet. The whole secret of my
hunting is reduced to my dense nursery of thistles and centauries.
By a most fortunate chance, with this populous family of
honey-gatherers was allied the whole hunting tribe. The builders' men
had distributed here and there, in the harmas, great mounds of sand and
heaps of stones, with a view of running up some surrounding walls.
The work dragged on slowly; and the materials found occupants from
the first year. The Mason-bees had chosen the interstices between the
stones as a dormitory where to pass the night in serried groups. The
powerful Eyed Lizard, who, when close-pressed, attacks wide-mouthed
both man and dog, had selected a cave wherein to lie in wait for the
passing Scarab (A Dung-beetle known also as the Sacred
Beetle.--Translator's Note.); the Black-eared Chat, garbed like a
Dominican, white-frocked with black wings, sat on the top stone,
singing his short rustic lay: his nest, with its sky-blue eggs, must be
somewhere in the heap. The little Dominican disappeared with the
loads of stones. I regret him: he would have been a charming neighbour.
The Eyed Lizard I do not regret at all.
The sand sheltered a different colony. Here, the Bembeces (A species
of Digger-wasps.--Translator's Note.) were sweeping the threshold of
their burrows, flinging a curve of dust behind them; the Languedocian
Sphex was dragging her Ephippigera (A species of Green
Grasshopper--Translator's Note.) by the antennae; a Stizus (A species
of Hunting-wasp.--Translator's Note.) was storing her preserves of
Cicadellae. (Froghoppers--Translator's Note.) To my sorrow, 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 (The Pompilus is a species of Hunting-wasp known also as
the Ringed Calicurgus--Translator's Note.), 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--Translator's Note.), 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--Translator's Note.) an inch and a half long, who
fly gracefully and dive into the heap, attracted by a rich prey, the grubs
of Lamellicorns, Oryctes, and Cetoniae. (Different species of Beetles.
The Cetonia is the Rose-chafer--Translator's Note.)
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