The men seemed not to mind the hordes of creeping things streaming down their arms and bare backs, beyond an occasional exclamation of annoyance or some jesting remark when one of their number was deluged with an exceptionally large number. But when on the third day the hooks stirred up a nest of the fierce maribundi wasps their tolerant attitude quickly changed, for the insects were quick to resent the interference with their domestic affairs. Several of the wasps darted out of the dense foliage, their red bodies gleaming like flying sparks. They made straight for the men and simultaneously there rose a chorus of wild screams mingled with the clatter and splash of poles that fell from hands now occupied in striking at the darting specks or in clutching madly at their bodies. David came to the door of the storeroom to see what had happened; he was amazed at the strange antics of the sailors, who were now making for the opening in which he was standing. He was not kept in suspense long. If a red-hot needle had been thrust into him the effect could not have been more painful. One of the wasps had discovered David and had plunged its fiery dagger into his arm. He dashed back into the storeroom with a cry of pain, and the men followed in quick succession. They slammed the door as soon as the last one had entered, and at last they were safe from the attackers. The batalao, left to its own devices, began to drift downstream, but none sought to stop it. The crew, packed tight between the boxes and bales, was too much occupied with a more vital matter, and some of the men who had been stung a number of times were screaming and moaning in agony, while from others came not a sound--they had lost consciousness. David had never suffered such intense pain in his life. His arm throbbed and burned and was rapidly swelling to huge proportions. At times he was on the point of fainting and grasped the nearest support to keep from falling to the floor. The stifling heat in the room added to the suffering of all. “Open the door!” Don Marco shouted. He had come through the encounter unscathed. “Get out into the fresh air,” he added; “we have drifted past the nest; the danger is over.” Someone obeyed the first order mechanically and those who could walk went out upon the deck. They presented a sorry appearance. Some had been stung on the hands; others on the face or bare backs, the exact spots being marked by rising protuberances of an angry red color. In the meantime David was wondering what he could do in the matter of giving relief. He thought of iodine; that would help. Then he remembered the snake-bite lancet in his pocket--a hard rubber device that looked like a short fountain pen, with a sharp steel blade in one end and a pocket of permanganate of potash crystals in the other. He would try that, on his own arm first.