lies upon its side with the bee between its legs.  This atrocious meal lasts often half an hour and longer.  Finally the exhausted corpse is abandoned; regretfully, it seems, for from time to time I have seen the ogre return to the feast and repeat its manipulation of the body.  After taking a turn round the top of the bell-glass the robber of the dead returns to the victim, squeezes it once more, and licks its mouth until the last trace of honey has disappeared.

The frantic passion of the Philanthus for the honey of the bee is betrayed in another fashion.  When the first victim has been exhausted I have introduced a second bee, which has been promptly stabbed under the chin and squeezed as before in order to extract its honey.  A third has suffered the same fate without appeasing the bandit.  I have offered a fourth, a fifth; all are accepted.  My notes record that a Philanthus sacrificed six bees in succession before my eyes, and emptied them all of honey in the approved manner.  The killing came to an end not because the glutton was satiated, but because my functions as provider were becoming troublesome; the dry month of August leaves but few insects in the flowerless garden.  Six bees emptied of their honey—­what a gluttonous meal!  Yet the famishing creature would doubtless have welcomed a copious addition thereto had I had the means of furnishing it!

We need not regret the failure of bees upon this occasion; for what I have already written is sufficient testimony of the singular habits of this murderer of bees.  I am far from denying that the Philanthus has honest methods of earning its living; I see it among the flowers, no less assiduous than the rest of the Hymenoptera, peacefully drinking from their cups of nectar.  The male, indeed, being stingless, knows no other means of supporting himself.  The mothers, without neglecting the flowers as a general thing, live by brigandage as well.  It is said of the Labba, that pirate of the seas, that it pounces upon sea-birds as they rise from the waves with captured fish in their beaks.  With a blow of the beak delivered in the hollow of the stomach, the aggressor forces the victim to drop its prey, and promptly catches it as it falls.  The victim at least escapes with nothing worse than a blow at the base of the neck.  The Philanthus, less scrupulous, falls upon the bee, stabs it to death and makes it disgorge in order to nourish herself upon its honey.

Nourish, I say, and I do not withdraw the expression.  To support my statement I have better reasons than those already presented.  In the cages in which various predatory Hymenoptera whose warlike habits I am studying are confined, waiting until I have procured the desired prey—­not always an easy proceeding—­I have planted a few heads of flowers and a couple of thistle-heads sprinkled with drops of honey, renewed at need.  On these my captives feed.  In the case of the Philanthus the honeyed flowers, although welcomed, are not indispensable.  It is enough if from time to time I place in the cage a few living bees.  Half a dozen a day is about the proper allowance.  With no other diet than the honey extracted from their victims I keep my specimens of Philanthus for a fortnight and three weeks.