290 EDGE OP THE JUNGLE 



chaps construct a round, sub-leaf carton-home, as 

 large as a golf ball, which carries out all the re- 

 quirements of counter shading and of ruptive 

 markings. The flattened, shadowed under sur- 

 face was white, and most of the sloping walls 

 dark brown, down which extended eight white 

 lines, following the veins of the leaf overhead. 

 The side close to the stem of the leaf, and conse- 

 quently always in deep shadow, was pure white. 

 The eaves catching high lights were black. All 

 this marvelous merging with leaf tones went for 

 naught when once an advance Eciton scout lo- 

 cated the nest. 



As the deadly mob approached, the wasplets 

 themselves seemed to realize the futility of offer- 

 ing battle, and the entire colony of forty-four 

 gathered in a forlorn group on a neighboring 

 leaf, while their little castle was rifled — larvae 

 and pupffi torn from their cells and rushed down 

 the stems to the chaos which was raging in Eci- 

 ton's own home. The wasps could guard against 

 optical discovery, but the blind Ecitons had 

 senses which transcended vision, if not even scent. 



Late that night, our lanterns showed the rem- 

 nants of the Eciton army wandering aimlessly 

 about, making near approach impossible, but ap- 



