The Shortcut

There was a great shortcut path across the hill to our house on Blue Mountain Road, which was used by all people walking or biking. It was quite dark and scary at night, but the great reduction in time and effort still made it popular. One year a swarm of Maribunta decided to build a large nest on a low tree limb directly over the path, near the workshop. Of course Maribunta were known to everyone and amongst the most feared of all the nasty critters in Guyana. The extreme pain from their sting is legendary. I have not yet found a decent picture of these 3 inch giant wasps on the web, probably because it is pretty tough to think about photography when these monsters get agitated. They are quite territorial and will attack anything they perceive as a threat. Anyhow, now every time we wanted to take the shortcut, we had to run-the-gauntlet past this two and a half foot nest. This discouraged most people from using the shortcut at all. One day some of us boys decided the nest had to go, and we declared war on it. We learned that Maribuntas could not see further than about 30 feet, so we would sneak up on the nest staying just out of visual range and armed with big sticks and big stones. We would then rush the nest and launch everything we had, then high-tail it out of there before the Maribuntas could react. The nest was tough though, and even a very successful charge would only knock off a grapefruit-sized chunk. The Maribuntas would instantly get pissed-off and highly agitated, with an amazing number scrambling out of the nest and swarming around looking for the culprits. The swarming Maribuntas effectively prevented us from making a second rush, but we could still sneak up to within throwing distance, where we would launch a fusillade of spears and stones. This volley had even less destructive effect on the nest, but it would rile the Maribuntas up even more and the swarm radius would expand enough to prevent even thrown objects from reaching the nest. So we would pull out our trusty slingshots, firing volleys and retreating until we could no longer hit the nest. By this time the swarm would be pretty spread out, but still maintaining contact with each other. The Maribuntas would eventually start flying organized scouting patterns looking for us. Now, we would be out to air rifle range and shooting from cover while keeping an eye out for Maribunta scouts. It was easy to tell if a shot scored a hit because the Marabuntas would react with a flare-up of agitation. There was no mistaking when a scout spotted us, because they would round up a posse and chase us. One time I had to run all the way home where the last two chasing Maribuntas landed on the screen door moments after I slammed it shut.

On succeeding days we came back to repeat our attack pattern, but the Marbunta were re-building almost as fast as we knocked chunks off, and it took far less provocation to get them really steamed up. One time when we had about half of it down and were all the way out to maximum air rifle range, a lady came by, riding her bike through the shortcut. We tried to warn her, but when we first saw her she was already much closer than we were to the nest. She was instantly far more preoccupied with the Marabuntas than with us. She sped up and made it to the nest before getting stung, but there was no mistaking what happened …. She shrieked, fell off her bike, got up and ran, frantically swatting at Marabuntas as she ran, and shrieking every time she got stung. I think she ended up getting stung four times. It could easily have been more, but the swarm had expanded to maximum size and was fairly spread out. I don’t know how she retrieved her bike, which was right under the nest, but it would have been a highly risky operation. That episode ended our war, as we felt guilty and didn’t want to be responsible for getting more people stung. Shortly afterward, some workmen were tasked with taking the nest down and the shortcut slowly regained its popularity. However, I doubt that lady ever took the shortcut again.