To know everything and to know nothing, according as it acts under normal or exceptional conditions: that is the strange antithesis presented by the insect race. Other examples, also drawn from the Sphex tribe, will confirm this conclusion. The White-edged Sphex (S. albisecta) attacks medium-sized Locusts, whereof the different species to be found in the neighbourhood of the burrow all furnish her with their tribute of victims. Because of the abundance of these Acridians, there is no need to go hunting far afield. When the burrow, which takes the form of a perpendicular shaft, is ready, the Sphex merely explores the purlieus of her lair, within a small radius, and is not long in finding some Locust browsing in the sunshine. To pounce upon her and sting her, despite her kicking, is to the Sphex the matter of a moment. After some fluttering of its wings, which unfurl their carmine or azure fan, after some drowsy stretching of its legs, the victim ceases to move. It has now to be brought home, on foot. For this laborious operation the Sphex employs the same method as her kinswomen, that is to say, she drags her prize along between her legs, holding one of its antennæ in her mandibles. If she encounters some grassy jungle, she goes hopping and flitting from blade to blade, without ever letting slip her prey. When at last she comes within a few feet of her dwelling, she performs a manœuvre which is also practised by the Languedocian Sphex; but she does not attach as much importance to it, for she frequently neglects it. Leaving her captive on the road, the Wasp hurries home, though no apparent danger threatens her abode, and puts her head through the entrance several times, even going part of the way down the burrow. She next returns to the Locust and, after bringing her nearer the goal, leaves her a second time to revisit the burrow. This performance is repeated over and over again, always with the same anxious haste.