BEES AND WASPS OF BARTICA 375 



between the glass and cork of a bottle, tunneled by the back 

 way into wasps' nests of solid masonry, wrecked the homes 

 and carried. off the inmates in a thousand separate pieces! 

 They were a pest. It is the only word to describe these vile 

 little creatures. If they would but ravage the pantry and 

 leave my insects alone, what a comfort it would be! 



My only course was to construct a tiny "incubator" 

 with wooden legs set in pans of oil. In this the young wasps 

 were kept in glass tubes with cotton stoppers. It proved 

 to be the only device into which the minute pillagers could 

 not set foot. At length after repeatedly having my work 

 of days or weeks undone in a few moments; after many 

 disappointments, I succeeded in rearing a few of my charges 

 successfully. I watched the mysteries wrapped about their 

 lives unfold, saw r nature hurl them through her steeplechase 

 called life and forgot the ants in the revelation. 



My gleanings, however meagre, follow. If one had as 

 a task, to count the grains of sand upon a glistening beach, 

 what impression would one make in a day? A very shallow 

 one to be sure, but deeper than the one I have made in the 

 insect life of Guiana. Five and a half months have passed 

 since we sailed up the Mazaruni River to Bartica, I to my 

 wasps and bees, and like the Counter of the sand-grains, I 

 had a hopeless sensation. Now it is late July. With the 

 entire beach still before me I have counted one ! 



