more and no
caterpillars would emerge. For the wasp went from sphere to sphere and
inoculated every one with the promise of its kind. The plant bent
slightly in a breath of wind, and knew nothing; the butterfly was far
away to my left, deep-drinking in a cluster of yellow cassia; the wasp
had already forgotten its achievement, and I alone--an outsider, an
interloper--observed, correlated, realized, appreciated, and--at the
last--remained as completely ignorant as the actors themselves of the
real driving force, of the certain beginning, of the inevitable end.
Only a momentary cross-section was vouchsafed, and a wonder and a
desire to know fanned a little hotter.

I had far from finished with my weed: for besides the cuts and tears
and disfigurements of the leaves, I saw a score or more of curious
berry-like or acorn-like growths, springing from both leaf and stem. I
knew, of course, that they were insect-galls, but never before had
they meant quite so much, or fitted in so well as a significant
phenomenon in the nexus of entangling relationships between the weed
and its environment. This visitor, also a minute wasp of sorts,
neither bit nor cut the leaves, but quietly slipped a tiny egg here
and there into the leaf-tissue.

And this was only the beginning of complexity. For with the quickening
of the larva came a reaction on the part of the plant, which, in
defense, set up a greatly accelerated growth about the young insect.
This might have taken the form of some distorted or deformed plant
organ--a cluster of leaves, a fruit or berry or tuft of hairs, wholly
unlike the characters of the plant itself. My weed was studded with
what might well have been normal seed-fruits, were they not proved
nightmares of berries, awful pseudo-fruits sprouting from horridly
impossible places. And this excess of energy, expressed in tumorous
outgrowths, was all vitally useful to the grub--just as the skilful
jiu-jitsu wrestler accomplishes his purpose with the aid of his
opponent's strength. The insect and plant were, however, far more
intricately related than any two human competitors: for the grub in
turn required the continued health and strength of the plant for its
existence; and when I plucked a leaf, I knew I had doomed all the
hidden insects living within its substance.

The galls at my hand simulated little acorns, dull greenish in color,
matching the leaf-surface on which they rested, and rising in a sharp
point. I cut one