If only I can come in time! if only the Sphex is still dragging her victim! Thank heaven! all favours me. She is still at some distance from her hole, and is bringing along her prey. With my pincers I gently draw it back. She resists, clutches the antennæ and will not let go. I pull harder, even making her go backwards; it is in vain, she holds on. I had with me a pair of delicate little scissors, part of my entomological outfit, and I rapidly cut the harness, otherwise the long antennæ of the ephippiger. The Sphex still advanced, but soon paused, surprised by the sudden lightening of her load, which now indeed only consisted of the antennæ detached by my malicious artifice. The real burden, the heavy-bodied insect, remained behind, instantly replaced by my living one. The Sphex turned, let go the ropes, which now drew nothing, and retraced her steps. Now she is face to face with the prey substituted for her own. She examines it, walks round it with suspicious caution, stops, wets her foot with saliva and washes her eyes. While thus meditating does she say to herself something of this kind: “Well, am I awake or am I asleep? Do I see clearly or not? This thing is not mine. Of what or whom am I the dupe?” At all events she is in no haste to bite my prey. She holds aloof, and shows not the smallest wish to seize it. To excite her I offered the insect with the tips of my fingers, putting the antennæ almost in her jaws, well aware of her audacious tameness, and that she will take from your fingers prey withdrawn and then offered. What is this? She draws back, disdaining my offers and the prey put within her reach. I put down the ephippiger, which, unconscious of danger, goes straight to its assassin. Now for it. Alas! no; the Sphex continues to draw back, behaves like a veritable coward, and finally takes wing. I never saw her again. Thus ended to my confusion an experiment which had so excited my enthusiasm.