From start to finish, the Glow-worm's life is one great orgy of light. The eggs are luminous; the grubs likewise. The full-grown females are magnificent light-houses, the adult males retain the glimmer which the grubs already possessed. We can understand the object of the feminine beacon; but of what use is all the rest of the pyrotechnic display? To my great regret, I cannot tell. It is and will be, for many a day to come, perhaps for all time, the secret of animal physics, which is deeper than the physics of the books. CHAPTER II THE SITARES The high banks of sandy clay in the country round about Carpentras are the favourite haunts of a host of Bees and Wasps, those lovers of a thoroughly sunny aspect and of soils that are easy to excavate. Here, in the month of May, two Anthophorae[1] are especially abundant, gatherers of honey and, both of them, makers of subterranean cells. One, _A. parietina_, builds at the entrance of her dwelling an advanced fortification, an earthy cylinder, wrought in open work, like that of the Odynerus,[2] and curved like it, but of the width and length of a man's finger. When the community is a populous one, we stand amazed at the rustic ornamentation formed by all these stalactites of clay hanging from the facade. The other, _A. pilipes_, who is very much more frequent, leaves the opening of her corridor bare. The chinks between the stones in old walls and abandoned hovels, the surfaces of excavations in soft sandstone or marl, are found suitable for her labours; but the favourite spots, those to which the greatest number of swarms resort, are vertical stretches, exposed to the south, such as are afforded by the cuttings of deeply sunken roads. Here, over areas many yards in width, the wall is drilled with a multitude of holes, which impart to the earthy mass the look of some enormous sponge. These round holes might be fashioned with an auger, so regular are they. Each is the entrance to a winding corridor, which runs to a depth of four to six inches. The cells are distributed at the far end. If we would witness the labours of the industrious Bee, we must repair to her workshop during the latter half of May. Then, but at a respectful distance, if, as novices, we are afraid of being stung, we may contemplate, in all its bewildering activity, the tumultuous, buzzing swarm, busied with the building and the provisioning of the cells. [Footnote 1: Cf. _The Mason-bees_, by J. Henri Fabre, translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chap. viii.; and _Bramble-bees and Others_, by J. Henri Fabre, translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: _passim_.--_Translator's Note_.] [Footnote 2: Cf. _The Mason-wasps_, by J. Henri Fabre, translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chaps. vi. and x.--_Translator's Note_.]