The conquest of a nest of Common Wasps (Vespa vulgaris, Linn.) would be a rather serious undertaking if one did not practise a certain prudence. Half a pint of petrol, a reed-stump nine inches long, a good-sized lump of clay or loam, ready tempered by kneading: such is my equipment, which I have come to consider the best and simplest, after various trials with less effectual means.
The asphyxiating-method is indispensable here, unless we employ costly expedients out of all keeping with my resources. The excellent Réaumur, when he wanted to place a live Wasps’-nest in a glass case, with a view to observing the habits of the inmates, had willing lackeys, seasoned to their painful job, who, allured by a handsome reward, paid for the scientist’s gratification with their skins. I, who should have to pay with my own skin, think twice before digging up the coveted nest. I begin by suffocating the inhabitants. Dead Wasps do not sting. It is a brutal method, but perfectly safe.
Besides, I have no need to revise the observations [[242]]of the Master, himself so capable an observer. My ambition is limited to certain matters of detail, which I shall be able to study with a small number of survivors. These I can spare by moderating the dose of asphyxiating-fluid.
I use petrol by preference because it is cheap and because its effects are less overwhelming than those of bisulphide of carbon. The question is how to introduce it into the cavity containing the Wasps’-nest. A vestibule, or entrance-passage, about nine inches long and very nearly horizontal, gives access to the underground chambers. To pour the liquid straight into the mouth of this tunnel would be a blunder that might have grievous consequences at the moment of excavation. So small a quantity of petrol would be absorbed by the soil on its way to the nest and would never reach its destination; and next day, when we might think that we were digging without risk, we should find an infuriated swarm under the spade.
The bit of reed prevents this mishap. Inserted into the gallery, it forms a watertight conduit and conveys the liquid to the cavern without the loss of a drop. A funnel is useful, as it enables us to pour the liquid quickly. The entrance to the dwelling is [[243]]forthwith tightly stoppered with the lump of clay which we bring with us ready kneaded, for most often there is no water on the spot. We have now nothing to do but wait.
Carrying a lantern and a basket with the implements, Paul and I set out, at nine o’clock in the evening, to perform an operation of this sort. The weather is mild and the moon gives a little light. The farmhouse Dogs are bandying distant yelps; the Screech-owl is hooting in the olive-trees; the Italian Crickets[1] are performing their symphony in the bushes. And we chat about insects, the one asking questions, eager to learn, the other telling the little that he knows. Delightful nights of Wasp-hunting, you well atone for our loss of sleep and make us forget the stings which are likely to incur!
Here we are! The pushing of the reed into the passage is the most delicate matter. Sentries may well emerge from this guard-house and attack the operator’s hand during the hesitation caused by the unknown direction of the gallery. The danger is provided for. One of us keeps watch; he will drive away the assailants with his handkerchief, should any appear. Besides, an idea is not [[244]]so very expensive if we acquire it at the cost of a swelling and a smart itching.
This time there is no mishap. The conduit 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! 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 digging, 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 therefore, before the sun grows hot.
A trench of sufficient width to give us freedom of movement is dug in front of the entrance-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. [[245]]