estion to the U. N. committee which now has
jurisdiction, but they wired back that if the insect is from space, we
couldn't stop other discs from landing on the mainlands. Our orders are
to study the bug and learn all we can.

Opinion is mixed here. I can't explain the flying disc unless it's
extraterrestrial, but why would an invader choose an isolated spot like
this to attack? Cleve says this is just a "test patch" and probably
under surveillance. But why such an innocuous little fly if they mean
business?

The newsmen are really bored now. They see no doom in the bugs, and
since they can't file their stories they take a dim view of the
quarantine. They have gotten up an evening fishing derby with the crew
members of the planes. Have to fish after dusk. The Tabbies bite too
often as long as the sun is up.

Cleve has turned into a different man. He is soft-spoken and intense.
His hands tremble so much that he is conducting most of his work by
verbal directions with the botanist and me to carry them out. When his
suggestion about blowing up the atoll was turned down he quit talking
except to conduct his work. If things were half as ominous as he makes
out we'd be pretty worried.

* * * * *

June 4--The spray planes got here and none too soon. We were running out
of drinking water. The Tabbies got so thick that even at night a man
would get stung insane if he went outside the screen.

The various sprays all worked well. This evening the air is relatively
clear. Incidentally, the birds have been having a feast. Now the gulls
are congregating to help us out like they did the Mormons in the cricket
plague. The spiders are doing all right for themselves, too. In fact,
now that we have sprayed the place the spiders and their confounded webs
are the biggest nuisance we have to contend with. They are getting fat
and sassy. Spin their webs between your legs if you stand still a minute
too long. Remind me of real estate speculators in a land boom, the
little bastardly opportunists. As you might gather, I don't care for
brothers Arachnidae. They make everyone else nervous, too. Strangely,
Cleveland, the entomologist, gets the worst jolt out of them. He'll
stand for minutes at the screen watching them spin their nasty webs and
skipping out to de-juice a stray Tabby that the spray missed. And he'll
mutter to himself and scowl and curse them. It is hard to include them
as God's creatures.

Clev