Indestructible by reason of its numbers, its small size, and
its cunning, the little creature laughs at the anger of man. The
gardener curses it, but the weevil is not disturbed; it imperturbably
continues its trade of levying tribute. Happily we have assistants more
patient and more clear-sighted than ourselves.
During the first week of August, when the mature Bruchus begins to
emerge, I notice a little Chalcidian, the protector of our peas. In my
rearing-cages it issues under my eyes in abundance from the peas
infested by the grub of the weevil. The female has a reddish head and
thorax; the abdomen is black, with a long augur-like oviscapt. The male,
a little smaller, is black. Both sexes have reddish claws and
thread-like antennae.
In order to escape from the pea, the slayer of the weevil makes an
opening in the centre of the circular trap-door which the grub of the
weevil prepared in view of its future deliverance. The slain has
prepared the way for the slayer. After this detail the rest may be
divined.
When the preliminaries to the metamorphosis are completed, when the
passage of escape is bored and furnished with its lid of superficial
membrane, the female Chalcidian arrives in a busy mood.
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