If from generalities we descend to details, we shall see that the very
species may, in many instances, be determined from the nature of its
victuals. The number of burrows of Philanthus apivorus which I have
inspected since I have been rummaging the hot roadside embankments, to
enquire into their population, would seem hyperbolical were I able to state
the figures. (For the Bee-eating Philanthus cf. Chapter 10 of the present
volume.--Translator's Note.) They must amount, it seems to me, to
thousands. Well, in this multitude of food-stores, whether recent or
ancient, uncovered for a purpose or encountered by chance, I have not once,
not as often as once, discovered other remains than those of the Hive-bee:
the imperishable wings, still connected in pairs, the cranium and thorax
enveloped in a violet shroud, the winding-sheet which time throws over
these relics. To-day as when I was a beginner, ever so long ago; in the
north as in the south of the country which I explored; in mountainous
regions as on the plains, the Philanthus follows an unvarying diet: she
must have the Hive-bee, always the Bee and never any other, however closely
various other kinds of game resemble the Bee in quality. If, therefore,
when exploring sunny banks, you find beneath the soil a small parcel of
mutilated Bees, that will be enough to point to the existence of a local
colony of Philanthus apivorus. She alone knows the recipe for making potted
Bee-meat. The Crioceris was but now teaching us all about the lily family;
and here the mildewed body of the Bee tells us of the Philanthus and her
lair.

Similarly the female Ephippiger helps us to identify the Languedocian
Sphex: her relics, the cymbals and the long sabre, are the unmistakable
sign of the cocoon to which they adhere. The black Cricket, with his red-
braided thighs, is the infallible label of the Yellow-winged Sphex; the
larva of Oryctes nasicornis tells us of the Garden Scolia as certainly as