You have before heard of their diligence in building. Does any accident happen to their various structures, or are they dislodged from any of their covered ways, they are still more active and expeditious in repairing. Getting out of sight as soon as possible,—and they run as fast or faster than any insect of their size,—in a single night they will restore a gallery of three or four yards in length. If, attacking the nest, you divide it in halves, leaving the royal chamber, and thus lay open thousands of apartments, all will be shut up with their sheets ofclay by the next morning;—nay, even if the whole be demolished, provided the king and the queen be left, every interstice between the ruins, at which either cold or wet can possibly enter, will be covered, and in a year the building will be raised nearly to its pristine size and grandeur.
Besides building and repairing, a great deal of their time is occupied in making necessary alterations in their mansion and its approaches. The royal presence-chamber, as the female increases in size, must be gradually enlarged, the nurseries must be removed to a greater distance, the chambers and exterior of the nest receive daily accessions to provide for a daily increasing population—and the direction of their covered ways must often be varied, when the old stock of provision is exhausted and new discovered.
The collection of provisions for the use of the colony is another employment, which necessarily calls for incessant attention: these to the naked eye appear like raspings of wood;—and they are, as you have seen, great destroyers of timber, whether wrought or unwrought:—but when examined by the microscope, they are found to consist chiefly of gums and the inspissated juices of plants, which, formed into little masses, are stored up in magazines made of clay.
When any one is bold enough to attack their nest and make a breach in its walls, the labourers, who are incapable of fighting, retire within, and give place to another description of its inhabitants, whose office it is to defend the fortress when assailed by enemies:—these, as observed before, are the neuters or soldiers. If the breach be made in a slight part of the building, one of thesecomes out to reconnoitre; he then retires and gives the alarm. Two or three others next appear, scrambling as fast as they can one after the other;—to these succeed a large body, who rush forth with as much speed as the breach will permit, their numbers continually increasing during the attack. It is not easy to describe the rage and fury by which these diminutive heroes seem actuated. In their haste they frequently miss their hold, and tumble down the sides of their hill: they soon, however, recover themselves, and, being blind, bite every thing they run against. If the attack proceeds, the bustle and agitation increase to a ten-fold degree, and their fury is raised to its highest pitch. Wo to him whose hands or legs they can come at! for they will make their fanged jaws meet at the very first stroke, drawing as much blood as will counterpoise their whole body, and never quitting their hold, even though they are pulled limb from limb. The naked legs of the Negroes expose them frequently to this injury; and the stockings of the European are not sufficient to defend him.
On the other hand, if, after the first attack, you get a little out of the way, giving them no further interruption, supposing the assailant of their citadel is gone beyond their reach, in less than half an hour they will retire into the nest; and before they have all entered, you will see the labourers in motion, hastening in various directions towards the breach, every one carrying in his mouth a mass of mortar half as big as his body[47], ready tempered:—thismortar is made of the finer parts of the gravel, which they probably select in the subterranean pits or passages before described, which, worked up to a proper consistence, hardens to the solid substance resembling stone, of which their nests are constructed. As fast as they come up, each sticks its burthen upon the breach; and this is done with so much regularity and dispatch, that although thousands, nay millions, are employed, they never appear to embarrass or interrupt one another. By the united labours of such an infinite host of creatures the wall soon rises and the breach is repaired.
While the labourers are thus employed, almost all the soldiers have retired quite out of sight, except here and there one, who saunters about amongst them, but never assists in the work. One in particular places himself close to the wall which they are building; and turning himself leisurely on all sides, as if to survey the proceedings, appears to act the part of an overseer of the works. Every now and then, at the interval of a minute or two, by lifting up his head and striking with his forceps upon the wall of the nest, he makes a particular noise, which is answered by a loud hiss from all the labourers, and appears to be a signal for dispatch; for, every time it is heard, they may be seen to redouble their pace, and apply to their work with increased diligence. Renew the attack, and this amusing scene will be repeated:—in rush the labourers, all disappearing in a few seconds, and out march the military as numerous and vindictive as before.—When all is once more quiet, the busy labourers reappear, and resume their work, and the soldiers vanish. Repeat the experiment a hundred times, and the samewill always be the result;—you will never find, be the peril or emergency ever so great, that one order attempts to fight, or the other to work.
You have seen how solicitous the Termites are to move and work under cover and concealed from observation; this, however, is not always the case;—there is a species larger thanT. bellicosus, whose proceedings I have been principally describing, which Mr. Smeathman calls the marching Termes (Termes Viarum). He was once passing through a thick forest, when on a sudden a loud hiss, like that of serpents, struck him with alarm. The next step produced a repetition of the sound, which he then recognised to be that of white ants; yet he was surprised at seeing none of their hills or covered ways. Following the noise, to his great astonishment and delight he saw an army of these creatures emerging from a hole in the ground; their number was prodigious, and they marched with the utmost celerity. When they had proceeded about a yard they divided into two columns, chiefly composed of labourers, about fifteen abreast, following each other in close order, and going straight forward. Here and there was seen a soldier, carrying his vast head with apparent difficulty, and looking like an ox in a flock of sheep, who marched on in the same manner. At the distance of a foot or two from the columns many other soldiers were to be seen, standing still or pacing about as if upon the look-out, lest some enemy should suddenly surprise their unwarlike comrades;—other soldiers, which was the most extraordinary and amusing part of the scene, having mounted some plants and placed themselves on the points of their leaves, elevated from ten to fifteen inches fromthe ground, hung over the army marching below, and by striking their forceps upon the leaf, produced at intervals the noise before mentioned. To this signal the whole army returned a hiss, and obeyed it by increasing their pace. The soldiers at these signal-stations sat quite still during the intervals of silence, except now and then making a slight turn of the head, and seemed as solicitous to keep their posts as regular sentinels. The two columns of this army united after continuing separate for twelve or fifteen paces, having in no part been above three yards asunder, and then descended into the earth by two or three holes. Mr. Smeathman continued watching them for above an hour, during which time their numbers appeared neither to increase nor diminish:—the soldiers, however, who quitted the line of march and acted as sentinels, became much more numerous before he quitted the spot. The larvæ and neuters of this species are furnished with eyes.
The societies ofTermes lucifugus, discovered by Latreille at Bourdeaux, are very numerous; but instead of erecting artificial nests, they make their lodgement in the trunks of pines and oaks, where the branches diverge from the tree. They eat the wood the nearest the bark, or the alburnum, without attacking the interior, and bore a vast number of holes and irregular galleries. That part of the wood appears moist, and is covered with little gelatinous particles, not unlike gum-arabic. These insects seem to be furnished with an acid of a very penetrating odour, which perhaps is useful to them for softening the wood[48]. The soldiers in these societies are as about one to twenty-five of the labourers[49]. Theanonymous author of the observations on the Termites of Ceylon seems to have discovered a sentry-box in his nests. "I found," says he, "in a very small cell in the middle of the solid mass, (a cell about half an inch in height, and very narrow,) a larva with an enormous head.—Two of these individuals were in the same cell:—one of the two seemed placed as sentinel at the entrance of the cell. I amused myself by forcing the door two or three times;—the sentinel immediately appeared, and only retreated when the door was on the point to be stopped up, which was done in three minutes by the labourers."
I hope this account has reconciled you in some degree to the destructive Termites:—I shall next introduce you to social insects, concerning most of which you have probably conceived a more favourable opinion;—I mean those which constitute the second class of perfect societies, whose workers are not larvæ, but neuters. These all belong to theHymenopteraorder of Linné:—there are four kinds of insects in this order, (which you will find as fertile in the instructors of mankind, as you have seen it to be in our benefactors,) that, varying considerably from each other in their proceedings as social animals, separately merit your attention: namely, ants, wasps and hornets, humble-bees, and the hive-bee. I begin with the first.
Full of interesting traits as are the history and economy of the white-ants, and however earnestly they may induce you to wish you could be a spectator of them, yet they scarcely exceed those of an industrious tribe of insects, which are constantly passing under our eye.Theanthas attracted universal notice, and been celebrated from the earliest ages, both by sacred and profane writers, as a pattern of prudence, foresight, wisdom, and diligence. Upon Solomon's testimony in their favour I have enlarged before; and for those of other ancient writers, I must refer you to the learned Bochart, who has collected them in hisHierozoicon.
In reading what the ancients say on this subject, we must be careful, however, to separate truth from error, or we shall attribute much more to ants than of right belongs to them. Who does not smile when he reads of ants that emulate the wolf in size, the dog in shape, the lion in its feet, and the leopard in its skin; ants, whose employment is to mine for gold, and from whose vengeance the furtive Indian is constrained to fly on the swift camel's back[50]? But when we find the writers of all nations and ages unite in affirming, that, having deprived it of the power of vegetating, ants store up grain in their nests, we feel disposed to give larger credit to an assertion, which, at first sight, seems to savour more of fact than of fable, and does not attribute more sagacity and foresight to these insects than in other instances they are found to possess. Writers in general, therefore, who have considered this subject, and some even of very late date, have taken it for granted that the ancients were correct in this notion. But when observers of nature began to examine the manners and economy of these creatures more narrowly, it was found, at least with respect to the European species of ants, that no such hoards of grain were made by them, and, in fact, that they had no magazines in theirnests in which provisions of any kind were stored up. It was therefore surmised that the ancients, observing them carry about theirpupæ, which in shape, size, and colour, not a little resemble a grain of corn, and the ends of which they sometimes pull open to let out the inclosed insect, mistook the one for the other, and this action for depriving the grain of the corculum. Mr. Gould, our countryman, was one of the first historians of the ant, who discovered that they did not store up corn; and since his time naturalists have generally subscribed to that opinion.
Till the manners of exotic ants are more accurately explored, it would, however, be rash to affirm that no ants have magazines of provisions; for although, during the cold of our winters in this country, they remain in a state of torpidity, and have no need of food, yet in warmer regions, during the rainy seasons, when they are probably confined to their nests, a store of provisions may be necessary for them. Even in northern climates, against wet seasons, they may provide in this way for their sustenance and that of the young brood, which, as Mr. Smeathman observes, are very voracious, and cannot bear to be long deprived of their food; else why do ants carry worms, living insects, and many other such things into their nests? Solomon's lesson to the sluggard has been generally adduced as a strong confirmation of the ancient opinion: it can, however, only relate to the species of a warm climate, the habits of which, as I have just observed, are probably different from those of a cold one;—so that his words, as commonly interpreted, may be perfectly correct and consistent with nature, and yet be not at all applicable to the species that are indigenousto Europe. But I think, if Solomon's words are properly considered, it will be found that this interpretation has been fathered upon them, rather than fairly deduced from them. He does not affirm that the ant which he proposes to his sluggard as an example, laid up in her magazines stores of grain: "Go to the ant thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wise; which, having neither captain, overseer, nor ruler, prepares her bread in the summer, and gathers her food in the harvest." These words may very well be interpreted simply to mean, that the ant, with commendable prudence and foresight, makes use of the proper seasons to collect a supply of provision sufficient for her purposes. There is not a word in them implying that she stores up grain or other provision. She prepares her bread, and gathers her food,—namely, such food as is suited to her,—in summer and harvest,—that is, when it is most plentiful,—and thus shows her wisdom and prudence by using the advantages offered to her. The words thus interpreted, which they may be without any violence, will apply to our European species as well as to those that are not indigenous.
I shall now bid farewell to the ancients, and proceed to lay before you what the observations of modern authors have enabled me to add to the history of ants:—the principal of these are Leeuwenhoek, Swammerdam (who was the first that had recourse to artificial means for observing their proceedings), Linné, Bonnet, and especially the illustrious Swedish entomologist De Geer. Gould also, who, though no systematical naturalist, was a man of sense and observation, has thrown great light upon the history of ants, and anticipated several of whatare accounted the discoveries of more modern writers on this subject[51]. Latreille'sNatural History of Antsis likewise extremely valuable, not only as giving a systematic arrangement and descriptions of the species, but as concentrating the accounts of preceding authors, and adding several interesting factsex proprio penu. The great historiographer of ants, however, is M. P. Huber; whohas lately published a most admirable and interesting work upon them, in which he has far outstripped all his predecessors.—Such are the sources from which the following account of ants is principally drawn, intermixed with which you will find some occasional observations,—which your partiality to your friend may, perhaps, induce you to think not wholly devoid of interest,—that it has been my fortune to make.
The societies of ants, as also of otherHymenoptera,differ from those of the Termites in having inactive larvæ and pupæ, the neuters or workers combining in themselves both the military and civil functions. Besides the helpless larvæ and pupæ, which have no locomotive powers, these societies consist of females, males, and workers. The office of thefemales, at their first exclusion distinguished by a pair of ample wings, (which however, as you have heard, they soon cast,) is the foundation of new colonies, and the furnishing of a constant supply of eggs for the maintenance of the population in the old nests as well as in the new. These are usually the least numerous part of the community[52]. The office of themales, which are also winged, and at the time of swarming are extremely numerous, is merely the impregnation of the females: after the season for this is passed, they die. Upon theworkers[53]devolves, except in nascent colonies, all the work, as well as the defence of the community, of which they are the most numerous portion. In some societies of ants the workers are of two dimensions.—In the nests ofF. rufaandflavasuch were observed by Gould, the size of one exceeding thatof the other about one third[54]. (In my specimens, the large workers ofF. rufaare nearly three times, and ofF. flavatwice, the size of the small ones.) All were equally engaged in the labours of the colony. Large workers were also noticed by M. P. Huber in the nests ofPolyergus rufescens[55], but he could not ascertain their office.
Having introduced you to the individuals of which the associations of ants consist, I shall now advert to the principal events of their history, relating first the fates of themalesandfemales. In the warm days that occur from the end of July to the beginning of September, and sometimes later, the habitations of the various species of ants may be seen to swarm with winged insects, which are the males and females, preparing to quit for ever the scene of their nativity and education. Every thing is in motion—and the silver wings contrasted with the jet bodies which compose the animated mass, add a degree of splendour to the interesting scene. The bustle increases, till at length the males rise, as it were by a general impulse, into the air, and the females accompany them. The whole swarm alternately rises and falls with a slow movement to the height of about ten feet, the males flying obliquely with a rapid zigzag motion, and the females, though they follow the general movement of the column, appearing suspended in the air, like balloons, seemingly with no individual motion, and having their heads turned towards the wind.
Sometimes the swarms of a whole district unite their infinite myriads, and, seen at a distance, produce an effect resembling the flashing of an aurora borealis. Rising with incredible velocity in distinct columns, they soar above the clouds. Each column looks like a kind of slender net-work, and has a tremulous undulating motion, which has been observed to be produced by the regular alternate rising and falling just alluded to. The noise emitted by myriads and myriads of these creatures does not exceed the hum of a single wasp. The slightest zephyr disperses them; and if in their progress they chance to be over your head, if you walk slowly on, they will accompany you, and regulate their motions by yours. The females continue sailing majestically in the centre of these numberless males, who are all candidates for their favour, each till some fortunate lover darts upon her, and, as the Roman youth did the Sabine virgins, drags his bride from the sportive crowd, and the nuptials are consummated in mid-air; though sometimes the union takes place on the summit of plants, but rarely in the nests[56]. After thisdanse de l'amouris celebrated, the males disappear, probably dying, or becoming, with many of the females, the prey of birds or fish[57]; for, since they do not return to the nest, they cannot be destroyed, as some have supposed, like the drone bees, by the neuters. That many, both males and females, become the prey of fish, I am enabled to assert from my own observation.—In the beginning of August 1812, I was going up the Orford river in Suffolk, in a row-boat, in the evening, when my attention was caught by an infinite number of winged ants, both males and females, at whichthe fish were every where darting, floating alive upon the surface of the water. While passing the river, these had probably been precipitated into it, either by the wind, or by a heavy shower which had just fallen. And M. Huber after the same event observed the earth strewed with females that had lost their wings, all of which could not form colonies[58].
Captain Haverfield, R. N. gave me an account of an extraordinary appearance of ants observed by him in the Medway, in the autumn of 1814, when he was first-lieutenant of the Clorinde—which is confirmed by the following letter addressed by the surgeon of that ship, now Dr. Bromley, to Mr. MacLeay:
"In September 1814, being on the deck of the hulk to the Clorinde, my attention was drawn to the water by the first-lieutenant (Haverfield) observing there was something black floating down with the tide. On looking with a glass, I discovered they were insects.—The boat was sent, and brought a bucket full of them on board;—they proved to be a large species of ant, and extended from the upper part of Salt-pan reach out towards the Great Nore, a distance of five or six miles. The column appeared to be in breadth eight or ten feet, and in height about six inches, which I suppose must have been from their resting one upon another." Purchas seems to have witnessed a similar phenomenon on shore. "Other sorts (of ants)," says he, "there are many, of which some become winged and fill the air with swarms, which sometimes happens in England. On Bartholomew 1613 I was in the island of Foulness on our Essex shore, where were such clouds of these flyingpismires, that we could no where fly from them, but they filled our clothes; yea the floors of some houses where they fell were in a manner covered with a black carpet of creeping ants; which they say drown themselves about that time of the year in the sea[59]."
These ants were winged:—whence, in the first instance here related, this immense column came was not ascertained. From the numbers here agglomerated, one would think that all the ant-hills of the counties of Kent and Surrey could scarcely have furnished a sufficient number of males and females to form it.
When Colonel Sir Augustus Frazer, of the Horse Artillery, was surveying on the 6th of October 1813 the scene of the battle of the Pyrenees from the summit of the mountain called Pena de Aya, or Les Quatre Couronnes, he and his friends were enveloped by a swarm of ants, so numerous as entirely to intercept their view, so that they were glad to remove to another station, in order to get rid of them.
The females that escape from the injury of the elements and their various enemies, become the founders of new colonies, doing all the work, as I have related in a former letter, that is usually done by the neuters[60]. M. P. Huber has found incipient colonies, in which were only a few workers engaged with their mother in the care of a small number of larvæ; and M. Perrot, his friend, once discovered a small nest, occupied by a solitary female, who was attending upon four pupæ only. Such isthe foundation and first establishment of those populous nations of ants with which we every where meet.
But though the majority of females produced in a nest probably thus desert it, all are not allowed this liberty. The prudent workers are taught by their instinct that the existence of their community depends upon the presence of a sufficient number of females. Some therefore that are fecundated in or near the spot they forcibly detain, pulling off their wings, and keeping them prisoners till they are ready to lay their eggs, or are reconciled to their fate. De Geer in a nest ofF. rufaobserved that the workers compelled some females that were come out of the nest, to re-enter it[61]; and from M. P. Huber we learn that, being seized at the moment of fecundation, they are conducted into the interior of the formicary, when they become entirely dependent upon the neuters, who hanging pertinaciously to each leg prevent their going out, but at the same time attend upon them with the greatest care, feeding them regularly, and conducting them where the temperature is suitable to them, but never quitting them a single moment. By degrees these females become reconciled to their fate, and lose all desire of making their escape;—their abdomen enlarges, and they are no longer detained as prisoners, yet each is still attended by a body-guard—a single ant, which always accompanies her, and prevents her wants.—Its station is remarkable, it being mounted upon her abdomen, with its posterior legs upon the ground. These sentinels are constantly relieved: and to watch the moment when the female begins the important work of oviposition, and carry off the eggs, of which she lays four or five thousandor more in the course of the year, seems to be their principal office.
When the female is acknowledged as a mother, the workers begin to pay her a homage very similar to that which the bees render to their queen. All press round her, offer her food, conduct her by her mandibles through the difficult or steep passages of the formicary; nay, they sometimes even carry her about their city;—she is then suspended upon their jaws, the ends of which are crossed; and, being coiled up like the tongue of a butterfly, she is packed so close as to incommode the carrier but little. When she sets her down, others surround and caress her, one after another tapping her on the head with their antennæ. "In whatever apartment," says Gould, "a queen condescends to be present, she commands obedience and respect. An universal gladness spreads itself through the whole cell, which is expressed by particular acts of joy and exultation. They have a particular way of skipping, leaping, and standing upon their hind-legs, and prancing with the others. These frolics they make use of, both to congratulate each other when they meet, and to show their regard for the queen; some of them gently walk over her, others dance round her; she is generally encircled with a cluster of attendants, who, if you separate them from her, soon collect themselves into a body, and inclose her in the midst[62]." Nay, even if she dies, as if they were unwilling to believe it, they continue sometimes for months the same attentions to her, and treat her with the same courtly formality as if she were alive, and they will brush her and lick her incessantly[63].
This homage paid by the workers to their queens, according to Gould, is temporary and local;—when she has laid eggs in any cell, their attentions, he observed, seemed to relax, and she became unsettled and uneasy. In the summer months she is to be met with in various apartments in the colony; and eggs also are to be seen in several places, which induced him to believe that, having deposited a parcel in one, she retires to another for the same purpose, thus frequently changing her situation and attendants. As there are always a number of lodgements void of eggs but full of ants, she is never at a loss for an agreeable station and submissive retinue: and by the time she has gone her rounds in this manner, the eggs first laid are brought to perfection, and her old attendants are glad to receive her again. Yet this inattention after oviposition is not invariable; the female and neuters sometimes unite together in the same cell after the eggs are laid. On this occasion the workers divide their attention; and if you disturb them, some will run to the defence of their queen, as well as of the eggs, which last, however, are the great objects of their solicitude. This statement differs somewhat from M. Huber's; but different species vary in their instincts, which will account for this and similar dissonances in authors who have observed their proceedings. Mr. Gould also noticed but very few females in ant-nests, sometimes only one; but M. Huber, who had better opportunities, found several, which he says live very peaceably together, showing none of that spirit of rivalry so remarkable in the queen bee.
And here I must close my narrative of the life and adventures of male and female ants; but, as it will be followedby a history of the still more interesting proceedings of theworkers, I think you will not regret the exchange. I shall show these to you in many different views, under each of which you will find fresh reason to admire them and their wonderful instincts. My only fear will be lest you should think the picture too highly coloured, and deem it incredible that creatures so minute should so far exceed the larger animals in wisdom, foresight, and sagacity, and make so near an approach in these respects to man himself.—My facts, however, are derived from authorities so respectable, that I think they will do away any bias of this kind that you may feel in your mind[64].
I need not here repeat what I have said in a former letter concerning the exemplary attention paid by these kind foster-mothers to the young brood of their colonies; nor shall I enlarge upon the building and nature of their habitations, which have been already noticed[65]:—but, without either of these, I have matter enough to fill the rest of this letter with interesting traits, while I endeavour to teach you their language, to develop their affections and passions, and to delineate their virtues;—while I show them to you when engaged in war, and enable you to accompany them both in their military expeditions and in their emigrations,—while I make you a witness oftheir indefatigable industry and incessant labours,—or invite you to be present, during their hours of relaxation, at their sports and amusements.
That ants, though they are mute animals, have the means of communicating to each other information of various occurrences, and use a kind of language which is mutually understood, will appear evident from the following facts.
If those at the surface of a nest are alarmed, it is wonderful in how short a time the alarm spreads through the whole nest. It runs from quarter to quarter; the greatest inquietude seems to possess the community; and they carry with all possible dispatch their treasures, the larvæ and pupæ, down to the lowest apartments. Amongst those species of ants that do not go much from home, sentinels seem to be stationed at the avenues of their city. Disturbing once the little heaps of earth thrown up at the entrances into the nest ofF. flava, which is of this description, I was struck by observing a single ant immediately come out, as if to see what was the matter, and this three separate times.
TheF. herculaneainhabits the trunks of hollow trees on the continent, for it has not yet been found in England, upon which they are often passing to and fro. M. Huber observed, that when he disturbed those that were at the greatest distance from the rest, they ran towards them, and, striking their head against them, communicated their cause of fear or anger,—that these, in their turn, conveyed in the same way the intelligence to others, till the whole colony was in a ferment, those neuters which were within the tree running out in crowds to join their companions in the defence of their habitation.The same signals that excited the courage of the neuters produced fear in the males and females, which, as soon as the news of the danger was thus communicated to them, retreated into the tree as to an asylum.
The legs of one of this gentleman's artificial formicaries were plunged into pans of water, to prevent the escape of the ants;—this proved a source of great enjoyment to these little beings, for they are a very thirsty race, and lap water like dogs[66]. One day, when he observed many of them tippling very merrily, he was so cruel as to disturb them, which sent most of the ants in a fright to the nest; but some more thirsty than the rest continued their potations. Upon this, one of those that had retreated returns to inform his thoughtless companions of their danger; one he pushes with his jaws; another he strikes first upon the belly, and then upon the breast; and so obliges three of them to leave off their carousing, and march homewards; but the fourth, more resolute to drink it out, is not to be discomfited, and pays not the least regard to the kind blows with which his compeer, solicitous for his safety, repeatedly belabours him:—at length, determined to have his way, he seizes him by one of his hind-legs, and gives him a violent pull:—upon this, leaving his liquor, the loiterer turns round, and opening his threatening jaws with every appearance of anger, goes very coolly to drinking again; but his monitor, without further ceremony, rushing before him, seizes him by his jaws, and at last drags him off in triumph to the formicary[67].
The language of ants, however, is not confined merelyto giving intelligence of the approach or presence of danger; it is also co-extensive with all their other occasions for communicating their ideas to each other.
Some, whose extraordinary history I shall soon relate to you, engage in military expeditions, and often previously send out spies to collect information. These, as soon as they return from exploring the vicinity, enter the nest; upon which, as if they had communicated their intelligence, the army immediately assembles in the suburbs of their city, and begins its march towards that quarter whence the spies had arrived. Upon the march, communications are perpetually making between the van and the rear; and when arrived at the camp of the enemy, and the battle begins, if necessary, couriers are dispatched to the formicary for reinforcements[68].
If you scatter the ruins of an ant's nest in your apartment, you will be furnished with another proof of their language. The ants will take a thousand different paths, each going by itself, to increase the chance of discovery; they will meet and cross each other in all directions, and perhaps will wander long before they can find a spot convenient for their reunion. No sooner does any one discover a little chink in the floor, through which it can pass below, than it returns to its companions, and, by means of certain motions of its antennæ, makes some of them comprehend what route they are to pursue to find it, sometimes even accompanying them to the spot; these, in their turn, become the guides of others, till all know which way to direct their steps[69].
It is well known also, that ants give each other information when they have discovered any store of provision.Bradley relates a striking instance of this. A nest of ants in a nobleman's garden discovered a closet, many yards within the house, in which conserves were kept, which they constantly attended till the nest was destroyed. Some in their rambles must have first discovered this depôt of sweets, and informed the rest of it. It is remarkable that they always went to it by the same track, scarcely varying an inch from it, though they had to pass through two apartments; nor could the sweeping and cleaning of the rooms discomfit them, or cause them to pursue a different route[70].
Here may be related a very amusing experiment of Gould's. Having deposited several colonies of ants (F. fusca) in flower-pots, he placed them in some earthen pans full of water, which prevented then from making excursions from their nest. When they had been accustomed some days to this imprisonment, he fastened small threads to the upper part of the pots, and extending them over the water pans fixed them in the ground. The sagacious ants soon found out that by these bridges they could escape from their moated castle. The discovery was communicated to the whole society, and in a short time the threads were filled with trains of busy workers passing to and fro[71].
Ligon's account of the ants in Barbadoes affords another most convincing proof of this:—as he has told his tale in a very lively and interesting manner, I shall give it nearly in his own words.
"The next of these moving little animals are ants or pismires; and these are but of a small size, but great in industry; and that which gives them means to attain tothis end is, they have all one soul. If I should say they are here or there, I should do them wrong, for they are every where; under ground, where any hollow or loose earth is; amongst the roots of trees; upon the bodies, branches, leaves and fruit of all trees; in all places without the houses and within; upon the sides, walls, windows, and roofs without; and on the floors, side walls, ceilings, and windows within; tables, cupboards, beds, stools, all are covered with them, so that they are a kind of ubiquitaries.——We sometimes kill a cockroach, and throw him on the ground; and mark what they will do with him: his body is bigger than a hundred of them, and yet they will find the means to take hold of him, and lift him up; and having him above ground, away they carry him, and some go by as ready assistants, if any be weary; and some are the officers that lead and show the way to the hole into which he must pass; and if the vancouriers perceive that the body of the cockroach lies across, and will not pass through the hole or arch through which they mean to carry him, order is given, and the body turned endwise, and this is done a foot before they come to the hole, and that without any stop or stay; and this is observable, that they never pull contrary ways.—A table being cleared with great care, by way of experiment, of all the ants that were upon it, and some sugar being put upon it, some, after a circuitous route, were observed to arrive at it, when again departing without tasting the treasure, they hastened away to inform their friends of their discovery, who upon this came by myriads;—and when they are thickest upon the table," says he, "clap a large book (or any thing fit for that purpose) upon them, so hard as to kill allthat are under it; and when you have done so, take away the book, and leave them to themselves but a quarter of an hour, and when you come again, you shall find all those bodies carried away. Other trials we make of their ingenuity, as this:—Take a pewter dish, and fill it half full of water, into which put a little gally-pot filled with sugar, and the ants will presently find it and come upon the table; but when they perceive it environed with water, they try about the brims of the dish where the gally-pot is nearest; and there the most venturous amongst them commits himself to the water, though he be conscious how ill a swimmer he is, and is drowned in the adventure: the next is not warned by his example, but ventures too, and is alike drowned; and many more, so that there is a small foundation of their bodies to venture; and then they come faster than ever, and so make a bridge of their own bodies[72]."
The fact being certain, that ants impart their ideas to each other, we are next led to inquire by what means this is accomplished. It does not appear that, like the bees, they emit any significative sounds; their language, therefore, must consist of signs or gestures, some of which I shall now detail. In communicating their fear or expressing their anger, they run from one to another in a semicircle, and strike with their head or jaws the trunk or abdomen of the ant to which they mean to give information of any subject of alarm. But those remarkable organs, their antennæ, are the principal instruments of their speech, if I may so call it, supplying the place both of voice and words. When the military ants before alluded to go upon their expeditions, and are out ofthe formicary, previously to setting off, they touch each other on the trunk with their antennæ and forehead;—this is the signal for marching; for, as soon as any one has received it, he is immediately in motion. When they have any discovery to communicate, they strike with them those that they meet in a particularly impressive manner.—If a hungry ant wants to be fed, it touches with its two antennæ, moving them very rapidly, those of the individual from which it expects its meal:—and not only ants understand this language, but even Aphides and Cocci, which are the milch kine of our little pismires, do the same, and will yield them their saccharine fluid at the touch of these imperative organs. The helpless larvæ also of the ants are informed by the same means when they may open their mouths to receive their food.
Next to their language, and scarcely different from it, are the modes by which they express their affections and aversions. Whether ants, with man and some of the larger animals, experience any thing like attachment to individuals, is not easily ascertained; but that they feel the full force of the sentiment which we term patriotism, or the love of the community to which they belong, is evident from the whole series of their proceedings, which all tend to promote the general good. Distress or difficulty falling upon any member of their society, generally excites their sympathy, and they do their utmost to relieve it. M. Latreille once cut off the antennæ of an ant; and its companions, evidently pitying its sufferings, anointed the wounded part with a drop of transparent fluid from their mouth: and whoever attends to what is going forward in the neighbourhood of one of their nests, will be pleased to observe the readiness with which theyseem disposed to assist each other in difficulties. When a burthen is too heavy for one, another will soon come to ease it of part of the weight; and if one is threatened with an attack, all hasten to the spot, to join in repelling it.
The satisfaction they express at meeting after absence is very striking, and gives some degree of individuality to their attachment. M. Huber witnessed the gesticulations of some ants, originally belonging to the same nest, that, having been entirely separated from each other four months, were afterwards brought together. Though this was equal to one-fourth of their existence as perfect insects, they immediately recognised each other, saluted mutually with their antennæ, and united once more to form one family.
They are also ever intent to promote each other's welfare, and ready to share with their absent companions any good thing they may meet with. Those that go abroad feed those which remain in the nest; and if they discover any stock of favourite food, they inform the whole community, as we have seen above, and teach them the way to it. M. Huber, for a particular reason, having produced heat, by means of a flambeau in a certain part of an artificial formicary, the ants that happened to be in that quarter, after enjoying it for a time, hastened to convey the welcome intelligence to their compatriots, whom they even carried suspended upon their jaws (their usual mode of transporting each other) to the spot, till hundreds might be seen thus laden with their friends.
If ants feel the force of love, they are equally susceptible of the emotions of anger; and when they are menacedor attacked, no insects show a greater degree of it. Providence, moreover, has furnished them with weapons and faculties which render it extremely formidable to their insect enemies, and sometimes, as I have related on a former occasion, a great annoyance to man himself[73]. Two strong mandibles arm their mouth, with which they sometimes fix themselves so obstinately to the object of their attack, that they will sooner be torn limb from limb than let go their hold;—and after their battles, the head of a conquered enemy may often be seen suspended to the antennæ or legs of the victor,—a trophy of his valour, which, however troublesome, he will be compelled to carry about with him to the day of his death. Their abdomen is also furnished with a poison-bag (Ioterium), in which is secreted a powerful and venomous fluid, long celebrated in chemical researches, and once calledformic acid, though now considered a modification of theaceticandmalic[74]; which, when their enemy is beyond the reach of their mandibles (I speak here particularly of the hill-ant, orF. rufa), standing erect on their hind-legs, they ejaculate from their anus with considerable force, so that from the surface of the nest ascends a shower of poison, exhaling a strong sulphureous odour, sufficient to overpower or repel any insect or small animal. Such is the fury of some species, that with the acid, according to Gould[75], they sometimes partly eject, drawing it back however directly, the poison-bag itself. If a stick be stuck into one of the nests of thehill-ant, it is so saturated with the acid as to retain the scent for many hours. A more formidable weapon arms the species of the genusMyrmica, Latr.; for, besides the poison-bag, they are furnished with a sting; and their aspect is also often rendered peculiarly revolting, by the extraordinary length of their jaws, and by the spines which defend their head and trunk.
But weapons without valour are of but little use; and this is one distinguishing feature of our pygmy race. Their courage and pertinacity are unconquerable, and often sublimed into the most inconceivable rage and fury. It makes no difference to them whether they attack a mite or an elephant; and man himself instills no terror into their warlike breasts. Point your finger towards any individual ofF. rufa,—instead of running away, it instantly faces about, and, that it may make the most of itself, stiffening its legs into a nearly straight line, it gives its body the utmost elevation it is capable of; and thus