The same parasites tell us--and this is the chief object of my digression--that excess or deficiency of nutriment does not determine the sex. So we are once more confronted with the strange proposition, which is now more positive than ever, that the insect which amasses provisions in proportion to the needs of the egg about to be laid knows beforehand what the sex of this egg will be. Perhaps the reality is even more paradoxical still. I shall return to the subject after discussing the Osmiae, who are very weighty witnesses in this grave affair. (Cf. "Bramble-bees and Others": chapters 3 to 5. The student is recommended to read these three chapters in conjunction with the present chapter, to which they form a sequel, with that on the Osmiae (chapter 2 of the above volume) intervening.--Translator's Note.) CHAPTER 10. THE BEE-EATING PHILANTHUS. To meet among the Wasps, those eager lovers of flowers, a species that goes hunting more or less on its own account is certainly a notable event. That the larder of the grub should be provided with prey is natural enough; but that the provider, whose diet is honey, should herself make use of the captives is anything but easy to understand. We are quite astonished to see a nectar-drinker become a blood-drinker. But our astonishment ceases if we consider things more closely. The double method of feeding is more apparent than real: the crop which fills itself with sugary liquid does not gorge itself with game. The Odynerus, when digging into the body of her prey, does not touch the flesh, a fare absolutely scorned as contrary to her tastes; she satisfies herself with lapping up the defensive drop which the grub (The Larva of Chrysomela populi, the Poplar Leaf-beetle.--Translator's Note.) distils at the end of its intestine. This fluid no doubt represents to her some highly-flavoured beverage with which she seasons from time to time the staple diet fetched from the drinking-bar of the flowers, some appetizing condiment or perhaps--who knows?--some substitute for honey. Though the qualities of the delicacy escape me, I at least perceive that the Odynerus does not covet anything else. Once its jar is emptied, the larva is flung aside as worthless offal, a certain sign of a non-carnivorous appetite. Under these conditions, the persecutor of the Chrysomela ceases to surprise us by indulging in the crying abuse of a double diet.