What would happen if a parasite were surprised in her work by the Bee? Nothing serious. I have seen them, greatly daring, follow the Halictus right into the cave and remain there for some time while the mixture of pollen and honey is being prepared. Unable to make use of the paste so long as the harvester is kneading it, they go back to the open air and wait on the threshold for the Bee to come out. They return to the sunlight, unflustered, with calm steps: a clear proof that they have suffered no unpleasantness in the depths where the Halictus works. A tap on the Gnat’s neck if she become too enterprising in the neighbourhood of the cake: that is all that the lady of the house seems to allow herself, to drive away the intruder. There is no serious affray between the robber and the robbed. This is apparent from the bold and undamaged aspect of the dwarf who returns from visiting the giantess engaged down in the burrow. The Bee, when she comes home, whether laden with provisions or not, hesitates for a while; in a series of rapid zigzags, she moves backwards and forwards, to and fro, at a short distance from the ground. This intricate flight at first suggests the idea that the Hymenopteron is trying to lead her persecutress astray by means of an inextricable net-work of marches and counter-marches. That would certainly be a prudent move on her part; but so much wisdom appears to be denied her. Her perturbation does not concern the enemy, but rather the difficulty of finding her dwelling, amid the confusion of the mole-hills encroaching one upon the other and the disorder of the lanes of the hamlet, which, owing to landslips of fresh rubbish, alter in appearance from one day to the next. Her hesitation is manifest, for she often blunders and alights at the entrance to a burrow that is not hers. The mistake is at once perceived from the petty details of the doorway. The investigation is resumed with the same flight in swing-like curves, intermingled with sudden excursions to a distance. At last, the burrow is recognized. The Halictus dives into it with a rush; but, however prompt her disappearance underground, the Gnat is there, perched on the threshold, with her eyes turned to the entrance, waiting for the Bee to come out, so that she may visit the honey-jars in her turn. When the house-owner ascends, the other draws back a little, just enough to leave a free passage and no more. Why should she put herself out? The meeting is so peaceful that, short of further information, one would not suspect the presence face to face of a destroyer and destroyed. Far from being intimidated by the sudden arrival of the Halictus, the Gnat pays hardly any attention; and, in the same way, the Halictus takes no notice of her persecutress, unless the bandit pursue her and worry her on the wing. Then, with a sudden bend, the Hymenopteron makes off.