At ten o’clock a female arrived carrying a bee, and tried to find nest No. 2. She came to the wrong place, and worked about, here and there, for some minutes, holding the bee under the thorax, clasped by the second pair of legs. Being unsuccessful, she dropped her burden, and flew away for a few minutes. While she was gone we removed a leaf that had fallen over her nest, and on her return she at once descended upon the right spot, and began to scratch open the entrance, the bee being kicked backward with the rejected earth. When the way was clear, however, she picked it up, brought it toward the hole, dropped it, ran in and out, brought it nearer, ran in again, and turning around in the tunnel, seized the bee in her mandibles and pulled it down. This performance was due to the accidental obstruction of the gallery, for we afterward found that punctatus ordinarily flies directly into her nest, or, when it is closed, pauses on the wing to scratch an opening with the first legs. The bee is pushed backward a little as she goes in, but does not often project from under her abdomen. At fifteen minutes after ten the worker from nest No. 1 brought in a bee, and from that time the two worked industriously. They showed some individuality in their ways, for No. 2 always closed her door when she went away, and never circled at all, while No. 1 invariably circled before leaving, and always left her nest open. To be sure, there was a female left on guard, so that perhaps she did not feel the need of caution. Our wasps had not far to go for their victims. Forty feet away, on the eastern side of the island, was a steep declivity, and here, in the soft crumbly soil, was a great Halictus settlement. No prettier sight can be imagined than is presented by this colony on every sunny summer day. The whole bank is riddled with nests, and at the entrance of each stands a female bee, her tiny head exactly filling the opening. The bees are constantly arriving, laden with pollen, whereupon the sentinels politely back inward to make way for them. Into this scene of contented industry descends the ravaging Philanthus, taking guards and workers alike. On the afternoon of the fourteenth of August our two wasps were in the full tide of affairs. No. 1 took in eleven bees within two hours, but her record was somewhat confused, as two other females were going in and out at the same time. We felt sure that neither of these was hunting, but one of them shared in the labor of the nest by helping with the work of excavation.