Stampede

We came back to the house after breakfast and found it absolutely crawling with ants. There hadn't been any when we had left it, barely an hour before. Ants covered the floors, trailed in mad races across our beds, walls, and doors. Millions and millions of ants. It was the closest thing I've ever seen to a plague.

Lolita and I both yelped as the ants bit us--they were jungle fire ants, and their bites are vicious, like bee stings.

Afraid that we would never get our house back, we ran to the caretaker's house to get some advice from the natives.

When Jose came to inspect our insect invasion, we were puzzled to see that the numbers had decreased greatly. "Don't worry," he told us, "These ants go overland in masses, eating every cockroach, spider, and pocket of spider eggs in sight. They'll leave everything else alone, and then they go on their way."

Amazingly enough, an hour later we couldn't find one ant in the whole house. The boys were pleased with the fact that our neighborhood cockroaches were gone, but I am not ready to forgive the red welts covering on my feet and ankles.

(Later in morning the stampede of ants decided to attack the beehives. John and Jackson fled to the house and watched as swarms of furious bees bees emerged from their hives and began to wage war on the herd of turkeys, the nearest animals around. The poor turkeys danced wildly and squawked and cried as their smelly bodies filled with stingers. Lessons learned: stay away from ants, also stay away from bees).