Another and another of these friendly meetings between them and other wasps took place in the half-hour in which I watched the sport. There were lulls in hostilities, during which an atmosphere of perfect peace and harmony seemed to reign around my bramble-bush. The flies were motionless in their ecstasy, and the hornet element seemed by common consent to keep temporarily shady, and even the butterflies seemed to forget that they had wings. But not for long, for now with a shimmering glitter our darning-needle invades the scene, and retires to a convenient perch with a ruby-eyed fly in his teeth, while a swarm of very startled butterflies tells conspicuously of the demoralization which he has left in his path. Among the butterfly representatives I at length observed one individual which at first had escaped me, an exclusive white cabbage-butterfly which sipped quietly at his leaf in the shade, and seemed to take little interest in the disreputable actions of his associates. Nothing could move him or entice him away from his convivial employment. But, alas! his folly soon found him out, for, on happening to look again, I observed he had found a new acquaintance--a hornet that had evidently been long desirous of meeting him. One by one I saw my butterfly's dismembered wings fall to the grassy jungle below, while a big black wasp proceeded to enjoy the collected sweets which he had doubtless observed were being so carefully stored away there in the shady retreat. [Illustration] And now my pretty black butterfly--no, it proved to be the little day-flying grape-vine-moth, the eight-spotted black _Alypia_--appeared from some unseen source, and spun his crapy white-streaked halo among the leaves, at length settling among a little company of flies. Softly behind him creeps a brown wasp (_Polistes_), with his mouth watering, while from the opposite quarter a steel-blue mud-wasp approaches, with apparently similar designs. Neither invader sees the other. Simultaneously, as though answering to a signal, the two make a dash at the moth; but he is too quick for them. In a twinkling he is off in his pretty halo again, while the two disappointed contestants have clinched, and with stings and jaws vigorously plying fall to the jungle below, and seek satisfaction in mortal combat. Here is a pretty little yellow and black banded flower-fly, which is having a quiet little picnic all by himself on a bed of yarrow bloom close by. But a big black paper-hornet has suddenly seen an attraction hither also, and is soon creeping stealthily among the blossoms with a wild and hungry look. But the hornets seemed to waste their time on the flies. Seemingly confident in their less complicated wing machinery, the two-winged fly rarely sought escape until within very close range of his enemy, and his resources never seemed to disappoint him at the critical moment.