Having discovered that a mason-bee that was engaged in the process of construction would go on building to an useless or even injurious extent, Fabre tried another experiment to ascertain whether a bee that was engaged in the process of provisioning the nest, would do so in conditions that rendered its work futile. Taking away a nest with completely built cell that a bee was storing with food, he substituted for it one in which the cell was only commenced, and therefore incapable of containing food; when the bee with its store of provisions reached this should-be receptacle it appeared to be very perplexed, tested the imperfect cell with its antennae, left the spot and returned again; repeating this several times it finally went to the cell of some stranger to deposit its treasure. In other cases the bee broke open a completed cell, and having done so went on bringing provisions to it, although it was already fully provisioned and an egg laid therein: finally, the little creature having completed the bringing of this superfluous tale of provisions, deposited a second egg, and again sealed up the cell. But in no case does the bee go back from the provisioning stage to the building stage until the cycle for one cell of building, provisioning, and egg-laying is completed: but when this is the case, the building of a fresh cell may be again undertaken. This is a good example of the kind of consecutive necessity that seems to be one of the chief features of the instinct of these industrious little animals. Another equally striking illustration of these peculiarities of instinct is offered by interfering with the act of putting the provisions into the cell. It will be recollected that {43}when the bee brings provisions to add to the stock, it carries both honey and pollen; in order to deliver these it begins by entering head first into the cell and disgorging the honey, then emerging it turns round, enters backwards and scrapes off the pollen from its body. If after the honey has been discharged, the bee be interfered with and gently removed to a slight distance with a straw, it returns to complete its task, but instead of going on with the actions at the point at which the interruption took place, it begins the series over again, going in—at any rate partially—head first, although it has no honey to discharge, and having performed this useless ceremony it then emerges, turns round and adds the pollen. This illustration is in some respects the reverse of what might have been expected, for the Insect here does not continue the act at the interrupted point, but begins the series of actions afresh.