The desired nourishment could only be the contents of the cells of the Anthophora, since we afterwards find the Sitares in these cells. Now these contents are limited to honey or larvæ. It just happens that I have kept some Anthophora-cells occupied by larvæ or nymphs. I place a few of these, some open, some closed, within reach of the young Sitares, as I had already done directly after the hatching. I even slip the Sitares into the cells: I place them on the sides of the larva, a succulent morsel to all appearances; I do all sorts of things to tempt their appetite; and, after exhausting my ingenuity, which continues fruitless, I remain convinced that my famished grubs are seeking neither the larvæ nor nymphs of the Anthophora.
Let us now try honey. We must obviously employ honey prepared by the same species of Anthophora as that at whose cost the Sitares live. But this Bee is not very common in the neighbourhood of Avignon; and my engagements at the college[1] do not allow me to absent myself for the purpose of repairing to Carpentras, where she is so abundant. In hunting for cells provisioned with honey I thus lose a good part of the month of May; however, I end by finding some which are newly sealed and which belong to the right Anthophora. I open these cells with the feverish impatience of a sorely-tried longing. All goes well: they are half-full of fluid, dark, nauseating honey, with the Bee's lately-hatched larva floating on the surface. This larva is removed; and taking a thousand precautions, I lay one or more Sitares on the surface of the honey. In other cells I leave the Bee's larva and insert Sitares, placing them sometimes on the honey and sometimes on the inner wall of the cell or simply at the entrance. Lastly, all the cells thus prepared are put in glass tubes, which enable me to observe them readily, without fear of disturbing my famished guests at their meal.
[Footnote 1: Fabre, as a young man, was a master at Avignon College. Cf. _The Life of the Fly_: chaps. xii., xiii., xix. and xx.--_Translator's Note_.]
But what am I saying? Their meal? There is no meal! The Sitares, placed at the entrance to a cell, far from seeking to make their way in, leave it and go roaming about the glass tube; those which have been placed on the inner surface of the cells, near the honey, emerge precipitately, half-caught in the glue and tripping at every step; lastly, those which I thought I had favoured the most, by placing them on the honey itself, struggle, become entangled in the sticky mass and perish in it, suffocated. Never did experiment break down so completely! Larvæ, nymphs, cells, honey: I have offered you them all! Then what do you want, you fiendish little creatures?