She crept in, remained a minute, and then came out and brought her spider to this new hiding–place. The head went in easily, but it took a great deal of tugging to get the rest to follow. At last both spider and wasp were out of sight, and everything remained quiet for so long that we began to think that this time we were really to see the final act in the play. But no; when the little wasp came creeping out it was only to start off on another extended tour, in which we did not attempt to follow her. She doubtless selected another halting–place, for when she returned it was to try to get the spider out of the hole by pulling at one of its hind legs. The task, however, was not an easy one. She exerted all her strength, so that we expected to see the victim torn to pieces before our eyes, and still it did not come. At last she seemed to realize that there was more than one way to accomplish her end, and turned her attention to cutting away the earth to make the opening larger. After a few moments’ work she tried again, and although the passage was still much too small for convenience the spider was at length dragged forth, looking much the worse for wear. As she moved away we alarmed her by lifting some vines that prevented our keeping her in view, and she flew up, leaving the spider on the ground. We seized the opportunity to bend and twist the plants this way and that so that the ground might be left uncovered. The changes that we made probably disconcerted her, for she seemed to lose track of her prey. For over half an hour she hunted about, circling above the place and running around and around over the ground. She often came so close to the spider that we could not understand why she did not see it. At last it was recovered, and again she started off. We tried to follow her, but the vines were so thick that, in spite of our efforts, she soon disappeared into the undiscovered country which we had thus far been unable to penetrate. Up to this time we had been entirely unable to understand the actions of marginatus, and each new example added to our confusion instead of clearing it away. We were inclined to think that she never made a nest for herself, but caught her spider and then hurried about for a good place to store it, and that her absurd conduct was the result of an indecision of character which made it extremely difficult for her to choose a place and be contented with it. The last part of this judgment holds true, even now when we know her whole history, but we have at last learned that she does dig her own nest.