Ordinarily termites attack only dead or dying wood. Some of them, however, carry fungi around with them to kill their own wood. The Canal Zone insects can dispose of living trees. Dr. Zetek tells of one attempt to establish an avocado plantation. He warned against it. When the trees had reached the fruit-bearing stage and seemed healthy he was ridiculed for his warnings. Branches were heavy with avocados and there was promise of a record crop. He shook his head when shown the flourishing orchard. “The poor trees,” he remarked. “They know they are going to die. They are just making one last mighty effort to preserve their species by producing plenty of fruit and seeds.” He secured the orchard owner’s permission to chop down one tree. The whole inside, he found, was riddled with termite galleries. This tree and all the others in the orchard were dead within a year. _The Plant That Eats Animals_ There are life-and-death battles in the microscopic world between tiny shelled animals and flesh-devouring fungi. The phenomenon can be compared to that of a tree catching and eating big turtles. When a culture of diseased plant roots is made, there soon appear great numbers of microscopic plants and animals—bacteria, fungi, amoebae, nematodes and other life forms. Immediately the struggle for survival starts. The animals try to eat the plants and the plants attempt to devour the animals. Among the animal forms which appear are vast numbers of creatures known as rhizopods. Practically unknown except to specialists, these microscopic creatures play an important part in the economy of life. They are probably the best-equipped of all the new arrivals to survive, since their soft bodies are covered with relatively heavy shells. Some years ago Dr. Charles Dreschler of the U.S. Department of Agriculture reported the existence of predaceous meat-eating fungi—parasitic forms of plant life—which literally lassoed such unprotected animals as amoebae and thread-like nematodes and proceeded to devour them at leisure by the process of infiltrating their bodies. It would appear that the armored rhizopods are completely protected from these ferocious plants. But the animal has one weak spot in its defense. It must get its mouth outside its shell in order to eat. Apparently the most inviting forage at hand is the innocent-appearing fungus. The rhizopod proceeds to suck at it with movements which Dr. Dreschler describes as similar to “sucking an egg.” The rhizopod mouth is small. Once it has sucked in any of the fungus its fate is sealed, for, explains Dr. Dreschler, “to such undiscriminating voracity the fungus responds by rapidly proliferating from the partly ingested portion a bulbous outgrowth slightly larger than the mouth, so that the rhizopod is held securely.”