208 The Naturalist in Siluria. 



A PLAGUE OF INSECTS. 



The summer of 1880 was prolific ia insects of tte 

 troublesome tribes. Short as was our apple and pear 

 crop, it was still further minimized by swarms of wasps, 

 these handsome but pestiferous creatures abounding 

 everywhere. In an acre of orchard, with an undergrowth 

 of clover and rye-grass, nearly a score of their nests were 

 found at mowing time, the mowers and rakers having 

 much difficulty in getting on with their work, and more 

 than one of them coming in for a swollen head. A youth 

 handling the hay-fork had one of his eyes "bunged up" j 

 but, by the simple application of sweet oil to the part 

 stung, the pain was allayed, and the swelling soon dis- 

 appeared. 



The nests were destroyed, with as many of the wasps 

 as were " at home," — not solely from spite, or vengeful 

 feeling towards the insects, but more for an economic 

 reason. The combs, or rather the cream-coloured larvcB 

 contained in them, are regarded as the finest of poultry 

 food, especially nourishing to young chickens; and, as 

 most of the haymakers had hatches, this treasure-trove 

 was eagerly appropriated and carried home to their 

 cottages. My kestrels ate them with avidity ; and it is 

 from this the so-called honey buzzard {Buteo apivorufi) 

 has obtained its mistaken cognomen. 



The mode of taking the wasps' combs usually practised 

 in these parts is to insert a piece of quarryman's fuse 

 into the cavity of the nest. The fuse, set on fire, is 

 covered up with a sod, or shovelful of earth pressed hard, 

 to prevent the issue of the sulphurous smoke, which per- 

 vading the cavity, destroys the insects. The time usually 

 chosen for the operation is after sundown or late twilight. 



