The Cetonia-larva, as served up to the young Scolia by its mother, is profoundly paralysed. Its inertia is complete and so striking that it constitutes one of the leading features of this narrative. But we will not anticipate. For the moment, the thing is to substitute for this inert larva a similar larva, but one not paralysed, one very much alive. To ensure that it shall not double up and crush the grub, I confine myself to reducing it to helplessness, leaving it otherwise just as I extracted it from its burrow. I must also be careful of its legs and mandibles, the least touch of which would rip open the nurseling. With a few turns of the finest wire I fix it to a little slab of cork, with its belly in the air. Next, to provide the grub with a ready-made hole, knowing that it will refuse to make one for itself, I contrive a slight incision in the skin, at the point where the Scolia lays her egg. I now place the grub upon the larva, with its head touching the bleeding wound, and lay the whole on a bed of mould in a transparent beaker protected by a pane of glass.
Unable to move, to wriggle, to scratch with its legs or snap with its mandibles, the Cetonia-larva, a new Prometheus bound, offers its defenceless flanks to the little Vulture destined to devour its entrails.
Without too much hesitation, the young Scolia settles down to the wound made by my scalpel, which to the grub represents the wound whence I have just removed it. It thrusts its neck into the belly of its prey; and for a couple of days all seems to go well. Then, lo and behold, the Cetonia turns putrid and the Scolia dies, poisoned by the ptomaines of the decomposing game! As before, I see it turn brown and die on the spot, still half inside the toxic corpse.
The fatal issue of my experiment is easily explained. The Cetonia-larva is alive in every sense. True, I have, by means of bonds, suppressed its outward movements, in order to provide the nurseling with a quiet meal, devoid of danger; but it was not in my power to subdue its internal movements, the quivering of the viscera and muscles irritated by its forced immobility and by the Scolia's bites. The victim is in possession of its full power of sensation; and it expresses the pain experienced as best it may, by contractions. Embarrassed by these tremors, these twitches of suffering flesh, incommoded at every mouthful, the grub chews away at random and kills the larva almost as soon as it has started on it. In a victim paralysed by the regulation sting, the conditions would be very different. There are no external movements, nor any internal movements either, when the mandibles bite, because the victim is insensible. The grub, undisturbed in any way, is then able, with an unfaltering tooth, to pursue its scientific method of eating.
These marvellous results interested me too much not to inspire me with fresh devices when I pursued my investigations. Earlier enquiries had taught me that the larvae of the Digger-wasps are fairly indifferent to the nature of the game, though the mother always supplies them with the same diet. I had succeeded in rearing them on a great variety of prey, without paying regard to their normal fare. I shall return to this subject later, when I hope to demonstrate its great philosophical significance. Let us profit by these data and try to discover what happens when we give the Scolia food which is not properly its own.
I select from my heap of garden-mould, that inexhaustible mine, two larvae of the Rhinoceros Beetle, Oryctes nasicornis, about one-third full-grown, so that their size may not be out of proportion to the Scolia's. It is in fact almost identical with the size of the Cetonia. I paralyse one of them by giving an injection of ammonia in the nerve-centres. I make a fine incision in its belly and I place the Scolia on the opening. The dish pleases my charge; and it would be strange indeed if this were not so, considering that another Scolia-grub, the larva of the Garden Scolia, feeds on the Oryctes. The dish suits it, for before long it has burrowed half-way into the succulent paunch. This time all goes well. Will the rearing be successful? Not a bit of it! On the third day, the Oryctes decomposes and the Scolia dies. Which shall we hold responsible for the failure, myself or the grub? Myself who, perhaps too unskilfully, administered the injection of ammonia, or the grub which, a novice at dissecting a prey differing from its own, did not know how to practise its craft upon a changed victim and began to bite before the proper time?
In my uncertainty, I try again. This time I shall not interfere, so that my clumsiness cannot be to blame. As I described when speaking of the Cetonia-larva, the Oryctes-larva now lies bound, quite alive, on a strip of cork.
As usual, I make a small opening in the belly, to entice the grub by means of a bleeding wound and facilitate its access. I obtain the same negative result. In a little while, the Oryctes is a noisome mass on which the nurseling lies poisoned. The failure was foreseen: to the difficulties presented by a prey unknown to my charge was added the commotion caused by the wriggling of an unparalysed animal.
We will try once more, this time with a victim paralysed not by me, an unskilled operator, but by an adept whose ability ranks so high that it is beyond discussion. Chance favours me to perfection: yesterday, in a warm sheltered corner, at the foot of a sandy bank, I discovered three cells of the Languedocian Sphex, each with its Ephippiger and the recently laid egg.
This is the game I want, a corpulent prey, of a size suited to the Scolia and, what is more, in splendid condition, artistically paralysed according to rule by a master among masters.
