their station, the leaves on which they were employed sprung up with a force much greater than we could have thought them able to conquer by any combination of their strength.  But though we gratified our curiosity at their expence, the injury did not go unrevenged; for thousands immediately threw themselves upon us, and gave us intolerable pain with their stings, especially those who took possession of our necks and our hair, from whence they were not easily driven:  The sting was scarcely less painful than that of a bee; but, except it was repeated, the pain did not last more than a minute.

Another sort are quite black, and their operations and manner of life are not less extraordinary.  Their habitations are the inside of the branches of a tree, which they contrive to excavate by working out the pith almost to the extremity of the slenderest twig; the tree at the same time flourishing, as if it had no such inmate.  When we first found the tree, we gathered some of the branches, and were scarcely less astonished than we should have been to find that we had prophaned a consecrated grove, where every tree, upon being wounded, gave signs of life; for we were instantly covered with legions of these animals, swarming from every broken bough, and inflicting their stings with incessant violence.  They are mentioned by Rumphius in his Herbarium Amboinense, vol. ii. p. 257; but the tree in which he saw their dwelling is very different from that in which we found them.

A third kind we found nested in the root of a plant, which grows on the bark of trees in the manner of misletoe, and which they had perforated for that use.  This root is commonly as big as a large turnip, and sometimes much bigger:  When we cut it, we found it intersected by innumerable winding passages, all filled with these animals, by which, however, the vegetation of the plant did not appear to have suffered any injury.  We never cut one of these roots that was not inhabited, though some were not bigger than a hazle nut.  The animals themselves are very small, not more than half as big as the common red ant in England.  They had stings, but scarcely force enough to make them felt:  They had, however, a power of tormenting us in an equal, if not a greater degree; for the moment we handled the root, they swarmed from innumerable holes, and running about those parts of the body that were uncovered, produced a titillation more intolerable than pain, except it is increased to great violence.  Rumphius has also given an account of this bulb and its inhabitants, vol. vi. p. 120, where he mentions another sort that are black.