MY WORK AND MY WORKSHOP 



chinks between the stones for their sleeping-place. The 

 powerful Eyed Lizard, who, when hard pressed, attacks 

 both man and dog, selected a cave in which to lie in wait 

 for the passing Scarab, or Sacred Beetle. The Black- 

 eared Chat, who looks like a Dominican monk in his 

 white-and-black raiment, sat on the top stone singing his 

 brief song. His nest, with the sky-blue eggs, must have 

 been somewhere in the heap. When the stones were 

 moved the little Dominican moved too. I regret him: 

 he would have been a charming neighbour. The Eyed 

 Lizard I do not regret at all. 



The sand-heaps sheltered a colony of Digger-wasps 

 and Hunting-wasps, who were, to my sorrow, turned out 

 at last by the builders. But still there are hunters left : 

 some who flutter about in search of Caterpillars, and 

 one very large kind of Wasp who actually has the cour- 

 age to hunt the Tarantula. Many of these mighty 

 Spiders have their burrows in the harmas, and you can 

 see their eyes gleaming at the bottom of the den like 

 little diamonds. On hot summer afternoons you may 

 also see Amazon-ants, who leave their barracks in long 

 battalions and march far afield to hunt for slaves. 



Nor are these all. The shrubs about the house are 

 full of birds, Warblers and Greenfinches, Sparrows and 

 Owls; while the pond is so popular with the Frogs that 

 in May it becomes a deafening orchestra. And boldest 



[9] 



