These various manipulations, especially the squeezing of the neck, at once bring about the desired results: the honey in the crop mounts to the Bee's throat. I see the tiny drops spurt out, lapped up by the glutton as soon as they appear. The bandit greedily, over and over again, takes the dead insect's lolling, sugared tongue into her mouth; then she once more digs into the neck and thorax, subjecting the honey-bag to the renewed pressure of her abdomen. The syrup comes and is instantly lapped up and lapped up again. In this way the contents of the crop are exhausted in small mouthfuls, yielded one at a time. This odious meal at the expense of a corpse's stomach is taken in a sybaritic attitude; the Philanthus lies on her side with the Bee between her legs. The atrocious banquet sometimes lasts for half an hour or longer. At last the drained Bee is discarded, not without regret, it seems, for from time to time I see the manipulation renewed. After taking a turn round the top of the bell-jar, the robber of the dead returns to her prey and squeezes it, licking its mouth until the last trace of honey has disappeared.
This frenzied passion of the Philanthus for the Bee's syrup is declared in yet another fashion. When the first victim has been sucked dry, I slip under the glass a second victim, which is promptly stabbed under the chin and then subjected to pressure to extract the honey. A third follows and undergoes the same fate without satisfying the bandit. I offer a fourth and a fifth. They are all accepted. My notes mention one Philanthus who in front of my eyes sacrificed six Bees in succession and squeezed out their crops in the regulation manner. The slaughter came to an end not because the glutton was sated but because my functions as a purveyor were becoming rather difficult: the dry month of August causes the insects to avoid my harmas, which at this season is denuded of flowers. Six crops emptied of their honey: what an orgy! And even then the ravenous creature would very likely not have scorned a copious additional course, had I possessed the means of supplying it!
There is no reason to regret this break in the service; the little that Ihave said is more than enough to prove the singular characteristics of the Bee-slayer. I am far from denying that the Philanthus has an honest means of earning her livelihood; I find her working on the flowers as assiduously as the other Wasps, peacefully drawing her honeyed beakers. The males even, possessing no lancet, know no other manner of refreshment. The mothers, without neglecting the table d'hote of the flowers, support themselves by brigandage as well. We are told of the Skua, that pirate of the seas, that he swoops down upon the fishing birds, at the moment when they rise from the water with a capture. With a blow of the beak delivered in the pit of the stomach he makes them give up their prey, which is caught by the robber in mid-air. The despoiled bird at least gets off with nothing worse than a contusion at the base of the throat. The Philanthus, a less scrupulous pirate, pounces on the Bee, stabs her to death and makes her disgorge in order to feed upon her honey.
I say feed and I do not withdraw the word. To support my statement I have better reasons than those set forth above. In the cages in which various Hunting Wasps, whose stratagems of war I am engaged in studying, are waiting till I have procured the desired prey--not always an easy thing--Ihave planted a few flower-spikes, a thistle-head or two, on which are placed drops of honey renewed at need. Here my captives come to take their meals. With the Philanthus, the provision of honeyed flowers, though favourably received, is not indispensable. I have only to let a few live Bees into her cage from time to time. Half a dozen a day is about the proper allowance. With no other food than the syrup extracted from the slain, I keep my insects going for a fortnight or three weeks.
It is as plain as a pikestaff: outside my cages, when the opportunity offers, the Philanthus must also kill the Bee on her own account. The Odynerus asks nothing from the Chrysomela but a mere condiment, the aromatic juice of the rump; the other extracts from her victim an ample supplement to her victuals, the crop full of honey. What a hecatomb of Bees must not a colony of these freebooters make for their personal consumption, not to mention the stored provisions! I recommend the Philanthus to the signal vengeance of our Bee-masters.
Let us go no deeper into the first causes of the crime. Let us accept things as we know them for the moment, with their apparent or real atrocity. To feed herself, the Philanthus levies tribute on the Bee's crop.
Having made sure of this, let us consider the bandit's method more closely.
