AN EVENING WITH THE HORNETS. 135 



I have since learned that the enthusiastic 

 Joyce got up the next morning at four o'clock 

 to take the nest, when he found the tree on 

 fire. The long drought had rendered the 

 rotten interior dry and inflammable. It must 

 have been inwardly burning or smouldering 

 all the day after I left, and the following 

 night ; the nest was, of course, quite de- 

 stroyed. The hornets are still as thick as 

 ever round the trees in the garden and 

 orchard. 



Joyce discovered another nest high up in 

 an ash tree in the park. At this he laboured 

 from nine o'clock at night till half-past one 

 in the morning. He triumphed at last, and 

 sent the nest to me in a box next day. On 

 unpacking it, I found that it contained 

 several revived hornets. Before examining 

 it more closely, I sent box and all to cook 

 in an oven. 



Now, at last, I have the nest before me ; 

 but alas ! it is browned and charred. It has 

 been baking too long, so that it is difficult to 

 discover what it is made of. My judg- 

 ment, however, must be in favour of " de- 

 cayed wood " rather than " the bark of 

 trees." It contains three circular tiers of cells, 

 the lowest being three and a half inches in 

 diameter, the second four inches, and the 



