They had noticed the paper; that was plain enough, but did they notice the redness? To test this, we left things as they were for two days, and then substituted blue paper for the red. Again the confusion, the swarming of fervent legions, the noisy expostulations, the descent of one after another; but this time they settled down to their ordinary routine in a little more than two hours. On the following day we removed the blue paper, leaving the grass around the nest exposed; and this proved a new source of mystification, but not so serious as the others. At the end of an hour twenty-five or thirty were still buzzing about, needing the guidance of the blue paper to get inside, and entering at once when it was replaced. As we tried new colors from day to day a few of the wasps became entirely reconciled to our interference, and paid no attention to the changes, while the others grew more or less accustomed to the idea of mutability, and were but little disturbed, although they still showed their consciousness of each alteration by making a few circles before going in. We once placed some dark red nasturtiums on light yellow paper near the nest, and found that more than one third of the homecoming wasps flew to them and hovered over them before entering. When light yellow nasturtiums, nearly matching the paper in color, were substituted, only one out of thirty-six noticed them; and as the odor was as strong in one case as the other, it would seem that the color was the attracting force.

Our final color experiment was to let the blue paper remain for a day or two, giving time for all the wasps to become familiar with it, and then to leave it on the ground a foot and a half away, while replacing it with yellow. This gave a false nest surrounded by the color that they had been associating with the entrance, and a true nest surrounded by a new color. In the next ten minutes two hundred and seventy wasps came home, and every one of them went to the false nest. Many circled above it, others entered the hole in the paper, and some began to excavate, and made quite a depression in the ground; but gradually they found their way home. Three hours later seventy-six wasps entered the false nest in five minutes, and at evening they were still visiting it in goodly numbers; but on the next day we saw only two that were deceived.

On successive days we substituted red for yellow, green for red, and so on, always with similar results, although the wasps became more and more accustomed to the vicissitudes of their life, and after a time seemed to look for the hole itself without relying upon the color to guide them. They found their nest under a color new to them much more readily than when the paper was taken entirely away and the ground left exposed. Once when the green paper was around their nest, and the wind blew it over the hole so that they could not enter, at least one hundred collected, many of them settling in the false nest; when we lifted the green paper, leaving the hole free, only three or four entered, but when we put it back in place they rushed in six or seven at a time. It was plainly the color that directed them.

This was a nearly rainless summer,—a condition extremely favorable to wasp development. Nests multiplied and grew until the whole country-side complained, and no wonder, for houses were full of them, and at mealtimes they gathered at the table with the members of the family. How did they know when dinner was ready? It could not have been by the sight, unfamiliar to them, of cooked food; was it, then, through the sense of smell?

Many were the questions that we asked in vain of our Vespas, but here was one that they could readily be made to answer. We rolled up two bundles, one of nothing but gauze, and another, like it in appearance, but containing some warm chicken bones; these were laid to one side of the nest, the color of the gauze matching that of the paper on which it was placed. The wasps in returning to the nest, even though loaded with food, could not resist the appetizing odor, and settled thickly upon the bone bundle, trying their best to penetrate within, while the empty gauze was unnoticed. As the bones grew cold and dry they attracted less attention, but two days later they were occasionally visited.

Having killed two wasps that had alighted on the ground, by striking them with a folded paper, we took them up and placed one of them at a distance, so that it was entirely hidden in the grass. Five settled above it, and after they had carried it away the place was visited by several others, while the spot upon which we had killed them drew to it nine wasps within fifteen minutes. Thus they seemed very keen of scent where animal matter was concerned; but the powerful oils of peppermint and wintergreen, although noticed, aroused little attention, perhaps because they indicated nothing of interest to them.

Our experiments on hearing met with negative results. The wasps seemed insensible to any noise we could make or that we could produce by whistles of various degrees of shrillness. This of course does not show that they cannot hear, and any one who has been unfortunate enough to disturb them in the neighborhood of their nest will remember how their angry buzzing seemed to serve as a battle cry to gather all the members of the clan for the attack.

Our Vespas began to work an hour or two after sunrise, and did not stop until dusk. One cloudy evening when darkness fell early they continued to return to the nest, being able to fly to the right spot without any hesitation, although our vision did not permit us to see the opening without going down on our knees and looking closely. At last it grew perfectly dark, and we stuffed a handkerchief into the hole, with the result that seventy-five, coming home without a ray of light to guide them, were shut out, and were found clustered about the spot on the following morning.