On the morning of the third day, July thirty–first, the larva had eaten all of the first cricket and the greater part of one of the others, leaving only the large hind legs. Supplying the place of the mother, we killed two more and put them into the tube. One of these was eight millimeters long, this being about the size of those which the wasp herself had caught, while the other was of another species and much larger, being thirty millimeters long. Its size and kind, however, made no difference to the larva, which attacked this one next, although there were two small ones yet untouched. It ate only half of this big one, however, and then passed on. On August second we gave it two more small crickets, and for that day and the one following its good appetite continued, but on August fourth it stopped eating. We thought that its larval life must be completed, and expected to see it spin its cocoon, but something was lacking which we were too ignorant to supply, and on August fifth it died. It had eaten six small crickets and half of the large one, which was equal to about two more. Thus ended our only acquaintance with this interesting little wasp. The second week of August furnished such good play in our garden that island life was neglected; but one brilliant morning we rowed over to the home of Bembex and Philanthus, hoping that something new was in store for us. We were not disappointed, for as we climbed the crest we met a splendid Chlorion cœruleum dressed in shining blue, cricket in mouth, plunging down the hillside through the long grass. Twenty–five feet below, she reached her underground home, vanished for two or three minutes, and then, coming to the entrance, turned her head from side to side as though listening. Some indiscreet insect was chirping loudly not far away, and before long the wasp ran out into the grass, flew to a stump, dropped to the ground, flew to the top of a tall weed, dropped again, and ran into a hole. A moment later she came out, dragging a very limp cricket. An ant that crossed her path was chased vindictively, and then the cricket was placed on its back and scraped from head to foot four or five times with the mandibles. She then ran a little farther, laid it down again, and repeated the operation, after which it was taken into the nest. [Illustration: CHLORION AND THE INDISCREET CRICKET] To find ourselves on the track of a lively wasp at the beginning of her day’s work was great good luck, and as Madam Cœruleum was perfectly fearless and did her hunting on foot, instead of disconcerting us with the long flights by which many of our wasps made the chase hopeless, we had every chance to learn her ways.