Equally ardent in carnage, but very unequal in strength, two species divide the hunting between them: the Common Wasp (Vespa vulgaris), who catches Eristales, and the Hornet (Vespa crabro), who preys on Hive-bees. The methods are the same in either case. Both bandits explore the expanse of flowers with an impetuous flight, going backwards and forwards in a thousand directions, and then make a sudden rush for the coveted prey, which is on its guard and flies away, while the kidnapper’s impetus brings her up with a bump against the deserted flower. Then the pursuit continues in the air, as though a Sparrow-hawk were chasing a Lark. But the Bee and the Eristalis, by taking brisk turns, soon baffle the attempts of the Wasp, who resumes her evolutions above the clustering blossoms. At last, sooner or later, some quarry less quick at flight is captured. Forthwith, the Common Wasp drops on to the lawn with her Eristalis; I also instantly lie on the ground, quietly removing with my hands the dead leaves and bits of grass that might interfere with my view; and I witness the following tragedy, if I have taken proper precautions not to scare the huntress. First, there is a wild struggle in the tangle of the grass between the Wasp and the Eristalis, who is bigger than her assailant. The Fly is unarmed, but powerful; a shrill buzz of her wings tells of her desperate resistance. The Wasp carries a dagger; but she does not understand the methodical use of it, is unacquainted with the vulnerable points so well known to the marauders who need a prey that keeps fresh for long. What her nurselings want is a mess of Flies that moment reduced to pulp; and, so long as this is achieved, the Wasp cares little how the game is killed. The sting therefore is used blindly, without any method. We see it pointed indifferently at the victim’s back, sides, head, thorax, or belly, according to the chances of the scuffle. The Hunting Wasp paralysing her victim acts like a surgeon who directs his scalpel with a skilled hand; the Social Wasp killing her prey behaves like a common assassin who stabs at random. For this reason the Eristalis’ resistance is prolonged; and her death is the result of scissor-cuts rather than dagger-thrusts. When the victim is duly garrotted, motionless between its ravisher’s legs, the head falls under a snap of the mandibles; then the wings are cut off at their juncture with the shoulder; the legs follow, severed one by one; lastly, the belly is flung aside, but emptied of the entrails, which the Wasp appears to add to the one favoured portion. This choice morsel is solely the thorax, which is richer in lean meat than the rest of the Eristalis’ body. Without further delay the Wasp flies off with it, carrying it in her legs. On reaching the nest, she will make it into potted Fly and serve it in mouthfuls to the larvæ.