THE SUMMIT OF THE YEARS 



in its way, — leaves and twigs, — precisely as a 

 growing tree might, or as flowing water does. I saw 

 two nests of yellow-jackets in the side of a house, 

 built in the space between the siding and the inner 

 wall; and these nests flowed out of the cracks and 

 nail-holes in the clapboards in thin sheets, just as 

 any liquid would have done. Narrow gray films 

 were pushing out here and there, over a space of 

 several square feet. The hornets had filled the space 

 inside with their nest and had reached the limit, 

 but they did not know it, and kept on building as 

 long as the season prompted. 



The strongest instinct in the carnivora is the kill- 

 ing instinct, and when this instinct is fully aroused 

 does the animal know what it is doing? When a 

 weasel or a wildcat gets into your hen-roost, it 

 rarely stops till every chicken is killed, though it 

 may not devour one of them. We say it kills and 

 kills to satisfy its lust for blood, as the inebriate 

 drinks and drinks to satisfy his abnormal appetite 

 for alcohol. But it is not like that. The weasel or 

 the mink kills all within its reach in obedience to its 

 normal killing instinct. It has no choice in the mat- 

 ter. Appetite starts the machine and then it keeps 

 on and on like a fire. Last winter a wildcat, starved 

 to mere skin and bones, was found at midday in the 

 henhouse of one of my neighbors. It had killed over 

 thirty hens and kept on with the slaughter while the 

 man ran to the house for his gun. The strange part 

 152 



