14
to orientate itself and flew off down the garden.
Within seconds the wasp returned, straight to the
butterfly, and proceeded to neatly cut away one of the
wings, and then cut off some more of the body and
take it away the same as before. The wasp made
four journeys in all, to take all of the butterfly's
body then it returned and tried to roll one of the wings
up to take away, but it didn't seem to be able to
manage this, so reluctantly it had to leave these
behind. Only once did the wasp rest on the fence
when one of the pieces was rather large. Possibly
this took about ten minutes in all, and the wasp
seemed completely oblivious that there were two
pairs of rather large feet within inches of it's
carnage.
Maureen Tollfree
DUMPY AND SLEEKY
There seems to be no good reason to doubt the theory
that, during a long period, ending only in comparat-
ively recent times, during which wild boars rooted in
our woodlands, the Robin learned to associate closely
with the animals that so conveniently uncovered an
endless store of small but wriggling protein. The
English exterminated their boars, but were also fairly
good at digging, the consequence being that the Robins
quickly learned to make do with second best. It
was early in July that a Robin decided that it was
worthwhile to check up on the erratic scrabblings
that went on in our garden, and in no time at all
I found myself considered as being reasonably
competent to carry on a job once done to perfection
by a superior porcine race.
There is nothing new in being adopted by a Robin, but
it is none the less pleasurable for that. It
usually ends there, but this bird decided otherwise.
It was often to be seen amongst the plants outside