Wasp Season

by Jennifer Scoullar

  With his features distorted in pain, Ted burst through Beth’s front door, yelling for help. Beth rushed in from the kitchen to find Ted moaning and swatting at his back with a cushion from the sofa.

  “Ted, whatever is the matter?”

  “I’ve been attacked by a mob of bloody wasps.”

  Beth rushed over and vigorously slapped the few remaining insects off his back, dispatching them on the carpet with her heel. Rick and Sarah came to see what all the fuss was about and stood at the doorway, intrigued. Still whimpering, Ted took off his shirt to reveal several raised, throbbing welts on his back and shoulders. Although they looked painful, Beth couldn’t help but feel that his terror was out of proportion to the damage done.

  She failed to fully appreciate the primal fear engendered by such an attack. Sitting the frightened man down, she instructed Sarah to prepare an ice pack. She then applied it to the sting sites to reduce the pain and swelling. Ted thanked her and began to calm down. Beth’s thoughts however were not with Ted. She felt a thrill of excitement. Her handyman had accidentally discovered the location of the European wasp nest. After a few more minutes Ted became cogent.

  “I’ve left the fire going, I’m afraid. I couldn’t get close enough to douse it. There’s no way I’m going back over there!” said Ted defensively.

  Beth made some more comforting noises and said that of course she didn’t expect him to go back. Ted looked consoled. After a cold drink and some more sympathy, he rose to leave. He put on his shirt, pulling the rough fabric gingerly over his body. The pain of the stings began to ease.

  “You’re not allergic to stings are you?” asked Beth.

  Ted shook his head. Beth was relieved. The result of the attack would probably just be a little localised swelling, followed by a few days of irritation and itching.

  An allergic reaction to a sting was a much more serious matter. It caused puffiness and pain extending well beyond the sting site. It could also precipitate an asthma like condition making breathing difficult. In severe cases one sting could stop the heart from beating. The European wasp possessed powerful venom, comprised of a mixture of toxins, enzymes and proteins, including substances such as serotonin and histamine. It was little wonder that most people reacted to wasps with such fear and revulsion. Fortunately only about ten percent of people developed an allergic reaction to wasp stings. The greatest danger for the rest of the population arose if someone was stung in the mouth or the back of the throat. The soft tissue in these areas immediately swelled and was likely to cause swallowing and breathing difficulties. Such an attack could quickly result in complete blockage of the airways.

  As Ted rose stiffly and painfully to leave, he turned to Beth and addressed her with an earnest expression on his weather-beaten face.

  “You’ve got to get rid of them wasps. Now. Today. I know a bloke who’ll do it. I’ll get him to give you a ring. Better tell them kids of yours to stay right away from that gully. Dogs too. I tell you, they’re deadly. Whatever you do, don’t go over there.”

  Beth murmured her assent.

  After Ted left, Beth instructed Sarah and Rick to remain inside and then went to take a look for herself. The sky remained an ominous, leaden grey. The termites had vanished. The eerie, mournful cries of the Yellow Tailed Black Cockatoos could be heard as a flock flew low over the house. These big, black, slow moving birds had a distinctive, laboured, flapping flight that caused Rick to label them the Manta Rays of the air. Otherwise, it was strangely silent and still, as she took the short walk to the fallen tree. Beth knew that a sighting of Black Cockatoos was an indication of coming rain. It was as if the world was holding its breath in anticipation of the coming storm. Summer storms in the mountains were short but violent. The wise creatures of the forest had already sought shelter.

  Beth approached the fallen tree cautiously, noticing wryly that no more than a third had been cut and stacked for firewood. The fire continued to burn. Ted had lit it injudiciously close to the body of the tree and it was beginning to take a substantial hold on the trunk itself. Beth shook her head and frowned. She had asked Ted not to burn off. She did not subscribe to the outdated belief that it was necessary to ‘clean up’ the bush. The off-cuts provided a valuable habitat resource and should be left to decay naturally. Sparks from burn-offs could also start bush fires.

  Beth could still not see the wasp nest. She ventured closer and closer. Eventually she found it. A dozen European wasps buzzed around a small hole in the ground that was almost completely hidden from view by a fallen branch. The smoke from the approaching fire drifted over them, driving the wasps back into their nest. Although their underground position afforded them a degree of immediate safety, Beth knew that once the huge trunk was fully on fire, the flames would progress relentlessly along its full length. Even the timber on the underside of the log would char through and eventually be reduced to ashes. It did not bode well for the nest, concealed as it was directly within the body of the tree.

  Initially Beth was pleased. If she left the fire to burn, closely monitored for safety of course, the task of destroying the nest would be accomplished very simply. However Beth felt an unexpected and powerful sympathy for the inhabitants of the nest. It was one thing to destroy the odd worker. This, on the other hand, was a catastrophe for the entire colony. She imagined the rising panic of the insects underground, as they faced the death of their queen and their brood. Beth abruptly made the decision to put out the fire. After all, it presented a bush fire risk. This was an acceptable rationalisation. She began to think of a way to extend the hose from the water tank, when she felt a large drop of water splash onto the back of her hand, then another. It was raining. Within seconds the skies opened, releasing a torrent of water. With the fire quickly dying, Beth ran for the house, ridiculously pleased that the decision was now out of her hands. She would deal with the nest some other time.

  CHAPTER 11

  Zenandra was right in the middle of depositing yet another egg in a nest cell when the vibration struck. Even very slight vibrations elicited an alarm response in the wasps. This consisted of hyper aggressive behaviour. The alerted wasps moved rapidly over the outer surface of the nest, giving particularly careful attention to the entrance hole and the area immediately beyond it. This was no slight vibration however. The chainsaw bit into the log above with tremendous violence. The effect on the delicately balanced nest structure was akin to that of an earthquake. Every available wasp was instantly on high alert. Zenandra herself stood guard just within the colony entrance, ready to defend her family despite her awkwardly distended abdomen. The weight of her egg-laden ovaries caused her to be clumsy. Sabrina joined a few dozen older, experienced workers outside the nest. The smoky air irritated her spiracles. The wasps swarmed about the entrance hole, crowding the air and buzzing loudly and angrily. The more adventurous of them, including Sabrina, ventured boldly in the direction of the disturbance and quickly identified Ted as a potential attacker. They soon returned home, ready and waiting should the intruder come too close.

  Another danger now became apparent to the agitated insects. As the fire crept closer, the temperature began to rise. In response to the heat, a convoy of wasps left the nest, flying fast in the direction of Beth’s lawn. Although there was no discernible communication between the insects, task organisation occurred efficiently and without delay. Everybody seemed to be in complete agreement. The efficiency of the operation would have put many a human war room to shame.

  The past week was one of stifling heat and each morning Beth carefully filled the birdbaths dotted around her large garden. She loved to watch the diverse parade of birds that bathed and drank at the cool, fresh water supply. Birds were not the only creatures to avail themselves of Beth’s thoughtfulness. The wasps soon discovered an old concrete birdbath under the apple tree that provided an excellent water supply. Its shallow, lichen - encrusted base was a perfect shape for the wasps to safely land and gather water. Beth had repaired the leaking va
lve on the water trough, causing the precious puddle underneath to quickly evaporate. The slippery, vertical sides of the trough itself were steep and dangerous. Most lighter, native wasps were able to alight on the water surface, supported by the fragile water tension. However the heavier European wasps felt more secure drinking at the water’s edge. The now perilous access at the trough had caused many of them to drown.

  This other water source was close and easily accessible. Before long a thick ring of wasps surrounded the birdbath. Having gathered water, they commenced frantically ferrying the droplets back home in an ingenious, waspine, bucket brigade. The returning workers quickly distributed their load throughout the nest. Others fanned their wings for minutes at a time. The combination of moisture and breeze worked almost as efficiently as the evaporative air conditioner sitting in the corner of Beth’s lounge room.

  This was not the only trick the clever wasps employed. A great deal of forward thinking had gone into the nest design itself, which now worked very much to their advantage. It was surrounded by painstakingly constructed multi layered paper envelopes, which were as efficient as the pink insulation bats in the ceiling and walls of Beth’s house. Zenandra’s home currently had nine complete envelopes wrapped around it. Another was under construction. The interspersed air pockets between the layers, helped to maintain a surprisingly constant temperature within. During one week in early summer when the air temperature had fluctuated wildly between ten and thirty-five degrees, the colony’s internal climate only varied by three degrees. It remained comfortably between twenty-nine and thirty-two degrees Celsius.

  The heat of the approaching flames sorely tested even this marvellously devised temperature regulation system. Prompted by the rapidly rising external air temperature, several dozen wasps chewed supplementary ventilation holes in some of the protective envelopes. Fanning wasps quickly appeared at these gaps creating a greatly increased airflow, which further reduced the temperature. Despite all these measures, the heat and acrid smoke made conditions increasingly uncomfortable.

  Ted chose this moment to walk past the nest. The wasps, already whipped into a frenzy by the noise, vibration and heat, wasted no time launching their aerial attack. Hundreds of the angry insects streamed out of the entrance hole, all of their pent-up agitation directed squarely at Ted. Although Zenandra remained on guard, she did not join in the assault. Her wings were frayed due to the friction of inserting her body into thousands of paper cells. The Queen’s flying days were over. Zenandra knew however, without having to see for herself, that a large intruder was under attack. She stirred to the call of battle, but could only move aside as hundreds of her daughters pushed roughly past, perhaps to sacrifice their lives for her sake. Wistfully she recalled the joy and freedom of spring mornings on the wing, and she buzzed a little in response to the memory.

  Sadly, she retreated into the dimness of the nest to inspect the hundreds of softly shining white-capped brood cells that contained pupae on the point of emergence. Pride swelled her tiny insect heart and she realised that her place was now here with her children. The thought consoled her. Composing herself, she moved off to join several of her younger daughters, fanning her battered wings energetically in unison with theirs. Thoughts of the outside world soon fled as the events of the moment overtook her.

  Meanwhile, outside of the nest, the attack on Ted was in full swing. He was quickly repelled and fortunately the assault claimed few wasp casualties. The stings of higher order social wasps such as these were a particularly effective defence against vertebrate predators such as Ted. They undoubtedly evolved originally in the same manner as that of the mud dauber, and for the same purpose—to supply their larvae with paralysed, fresh food. However the sting of the European wasp no longer served to immobilise prey. It functioned exclusively for defence and could be used again and again without injury to its owner.

  Even so, such a vigorous attack proved enormously taxing. After Ted’s hurried departure, the defending wasps returned to the nest. They found little time to recover from their exertions. Although the vibrations had stopped, the temperature continued to rise. The weary, warrior wasps had no sooner arrived home, than they were forced to resume thermo regulation duties. The combination of heat and exhaustion began to take its toll. Many of the older wasps collapsed and lay dying amongst their frantically, fanning sisters. Some of the younger wasps, desperately thirsty, imbibed the droplets of water that were distributed around the nest chambers, thus reducing the efficiency of the cooling system. Zenandra was relieved to see Sabrina return unscathed from the fray. She had a soft spot for her bold first-born child.

  The tired wasp greeted her mother, rested briefly, and then commenced an inspection of the older larvae. The unbearable heat caused many of them to extend their bodies as far as possible out of their cells, waving their head capsules, trying to take advantage of the breeze created by the buzzing adults. Sabrina and her sisters hurried to reassure the frightened babies, tapping them with their antennae, and communicating with soft, comforting, click, click noises.

  Just as Zenandra thought her spiracles would burst, she detected a new vibration. Not violent and earth shattering as before. This was a mere, soft murmur. The queen’s spirit soared. It was raining. The danger would soon pass. Gradually the air cooled and the choking smoke cleared. Thirsty wasps eagerly sucked the refreshing moisture that seeped in around the entrance hole. Larvae relaxed comfortably back into their brood cells. Workers began to clear away the corpses of dozens of casualties. Their bodies would soon be fed to the growing wasplings. Even in death they nourished their sisters. Sabrina, worn out by her labours and nearing the end of her life, fell into a relieved, well deserved slumber. Zenandra too felt the need to sleep. But first she would just lay one more egg…

  The European wasps were not the only family of social insects to be grateful for the cooling rain. At the far end of the log, a colony of termites welcomed the storm with equal enthusiasm. They were the only insects to remain coinhabitants of the log with the wasps. The other denizens had long since been picked off by the voracious new tenants. The clever termites, sealed safely within their tunnels, lived their lives undisturbed by the danger on their doorstep. This nest was the point of departure for many of the winged reproductives, or alates, that swarmed the previous night.

  Termites were thin skinned, soft bodied, defenceless creatures. Totally blind, they fed harmlessly on decayed wood and other plant material. They belonged to a completely different and more primitive insect family than the wasps. Nevertheless, like the wasps, their societies were numerous and highly successful. There were two very important differences however. Firstly, a full time king and queen shared the royal duties. Unlike the Amazon wasps, males and females were present within all termite forms at all times. Secondly, their babies did not undergo the miraculous metamorphosis of the wasplings. The termite hatchlings were complete, though underdeveloped, replicas of their parents. They could attain any adult form, depending on the requirements of the colony at that particular time. This flexibility contributed to their success as a species, with each minute worker living and learning for up to three years and helping to raise several thousand offspring. The termites led very secretive lives, always remaining within the nest, moving to new food sources through secure, subterranean passages. Their soft, fleshy bodies offered little protection against predators, or the dry, open air that could fatally desiccate them within minutes. Thus they shunned the freedom of the outside world and sought the comfort and security of their moist, dark, crowded, underground cities. Yet, when certain conditions prevailed, the winged sexuals within the nest reversed their normal behaviour and were irresistibly driven to the surface.

  Last night was such a night. Factors of season, rainfall, temperature, humidity and light all converged perfectly for a swarm. Worker termites slaved all of the previous day, preparing exits from the colony that was usually kept so tightly sealed. As night fell and the full moon rose above the clouds, the y
oung royals swarmed out through carefully concealed openings. Miraculously, they synchronised their emergence with that of other colonies of the same species. The combined swarm consisted of hundreds of thousands of individuals. Such vast numbers increased the odds that at least some pairs would survive the dangers that beset them on their nuptial flight, and go on to successfully establish the next generation.

  The stay at home termites, even the soldiers, were blind, unpigmented and thin skinned. By contrast, the reproductives had thicker, darker exoskeletons, allowing them to endure the light and dry air to which they would soon be exposed. Even so, they only swarmed on humid evenings. Unlike their brothers and sisters, they possessed wings and eyes. Their flight was weak and fluttering, and unless aided by air currents, none travelled too far from their birthplace. Upon landing, they dropped their wings, having no further use for them. The insects crawled around the ground until they chanced to meet a member of the opposite sex

  The female raised the tip of her abdomen provocatively, and emitted an attractive scent. The besotted male then fell in line behind her and together they searched for a nest site. Now known as dealates, having lost their wings, they reverted back to their proper termite senses. No longer attracted by light, they were now sensibly repelled by it. Having agreed upon a rotting tree stump as a suitable home, they prepared an underground chamber nearby and sealed themselves securely within. Only then did they consummate their union. The fortunate male was not doomed to an early death, as were the drones of the wasps and bees. Instead he would reign for years, side by side with his queen, over a vast and complex insect society, which had changed little over millions of years.