The going and coming is almost continuous until the storehouse is full.
The burrows of the Philanthus know nothing of such animation, even in a populous colony.

In vain my vigils prolonged themselves into whole mornings or afternoons, and only very rarely does the mother who has entered with a bee set forth upon a second expedition.

Two captures by the same huntress is the most that I have seen in my long watches.

Once the family is provided with sufficient food for the moment the mother postpones further hunting trips until hunting becomes necessary, and busies herself with digging and burrowing in her underground dwelling.
Little cells are excavated, and I see the rubbish from them gradually pushed up to the surface.

With that exception there is no sign of activity; it is as though the burrow were deserted.
To lay the nest bare is not easy.