The Mason- Wasps 



so very expensive if we acquire it at the cost 

 of a swelling and a smart itching. 



This time there is no mishap. The con- 

 duit is in place; it sends the contents of my 

 flask streaming into the cavern. We hear 

 the threatening buzz of the underground 

 population. Quick, the wet clay, to close the 

 door; quick, a kick or two of the heel upon 

 the clod, to consolidate the closing 1 There 

 is nothing more to be done. It is striking 

 eleven; let us be off to bed. 



Provided with a spade and trowel, we are 

 back on the spot at dawn. Numbers of 

 Wasps, belated in the fields, have been out 

 all night. They will turn up as we are dig- 

 ging, but the chill of the morning will render 

 them less aggressive; and a few flicks of the 

 handkerchief will be enough to make them 

 keep their distance. Let us hasten there- 

 fore, before the sun grows hot. 



A trench of sufficient width to give us free- 

 dom of movement is dug in front of the en- 

 trance-passage, whose position is indicated 

 by the reed, which remains where it was. 

 Next, the perpendicular side of the ditch is 

 carefully cut away in slices. Thus conducted, 

 at a depth of some twenty inches, our digging 

 at last reveals the Wasps'-nest intact, slung 

 from the roof of a spacious cavity. 

 244 



