28 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 



entrapped ; and month after month there was no 

 sign of change to imago. Yet each pit held a 

 fat, enthusiastic inmate, ready at a touch to turn 

 steam-shovel, battering-ram, bayonet, and gour- 

 mand. Among the first thousand-and-one mys- 

 teries of Kartabo I give a place to the source of 

 nourishment of the sub-bungalow ant-lions. 



Walking one day back of the house, I observed 

 a number of small holes, with a little shining head 

 just visible in each, which vanished at my ap- 

 proach. Looking closer, I was surprised to find 

 a colony of tropical doodle-bugs. Straightway I 

 chose a grass-stem and squatting, began fishing 

 as I had fished many years ago in the southern 

 states. Soon a nibble and then an angry pull, 

 and I j erked out the irate little chap. He had the 

 same naked bumpy body and the fierce head, and 

 when two or three were put together, they fought 

 blindly and with the ferocity of bulldogs. 



To write of pets is as bad taste as to write in 

 diary form, and, besides, I had made up my mind 

 to have no pets on this expedition. They were a 

 great deal of trouble and a source of distraction 

 from work while they were alive; and one's heart 

 was wrung and one's concentration disturbed at 



