Next day, in a different locality, I repeated my experiment with another Cricket; and every time the Sphex was hoodwinked. I had come upon a dense-minded tribe, a regular village of Bœotians, as in my first observations. CHAPTER V THE THREE DAGGER-THRUSTS There is no doubt that the Sphex displays her most cunning resources at the moment of immolating a Cricket; it is important, therefore, to ascertain the manner wherein the victim is sacrificed. Profiting by the repeated attempts which I had made when I was studying the tactics of the Cerceres, I at once applied to the Sphex the method which had succeeded with the other Wasps, a method that consisted in taking the prey from the huntress and forthwith replacing it by another, living prey. The substitution is all the easier inasmuch as we have seen the Sphex herself releasing her victim in order to go down the burrow for a moment alone. Her daring familiarity, which makes her come and take from your fingers and even out of your hand the Cricket whom you have stolen from her and now offer her again, also lends itself admirably to the successful issue of the experiment, by allowing you to observe every detail of the drama closely. Again, to find live Crickets is an easy matter: we have but to lift the first stone that we see and we find them crouching underneath, sheltered from the sun. These Crickets are young ones, of the same year, who as yet boast but rudimentary wings and who, not possessing the industry of the full-grown insect, have not learnt to dig those cavernous retreats where they would be safe from the Sphex’ investigations. In a few moments I have as many live Crickets as I could wish for. This completes my preparations. I climb to the top of my observatory, establish myself on the level ground, in the centre of the Sphex village, and wait. A huntress appears upon the scene, carts her Cricket to the entrance of the home and goes down her burrow by herself. I quickly remove the Cricket and substitute one of mine, placing him, however, some distance away from the hole. The kidnapper returns, looks round, and runs and seizes the victim, which is too far off for her. I am all eyes, all attention. Nothing would induce me to give up my part in the tragic spectacle which I am about to witness. The terrified Cricket takes to flight, hopping as fast as he can; the Sphex pursues him hot-foot, reaches him, rushes upon him. There follows, amid the dust, a confused encounter, wherein each champion, now victor, now vanquished, by turns is at the top or at the bottom. Success, for a moment undecided, at last crowns the aggressor’s efforts. Despite his vigorous kicks, despite the snaps of his pincer-like mandibles, the Cricket is laid low and stretched upon his back.