Chapter VIII: Introduction (5)

Of all the enemies of the ant, those most dreaded are the ants themselves; the smallest not the least, since several fasten at once upon the feet of the largest, drag them on the ground, embarrass their movements, and thus prevent their escape. One would be astonished at the fury of these insects in their combats; it would be more easy to tear away their limbs and cut them in pieces, than compel them to quit their hold. It is nothing uncommon to see the head of an ant suspended to the legs or antennæ of some worker, who bears about, in every place, this pledge of his victory. We also observe, not unfrequently, the ants dragging after them the entire body of some enemy they had killed some time before, fastened to their feet in such a way as not to allow of their disengaging themselves.

Supposing the ants to be of equal size, those furnished with a sting have an advantage over those who employ only for their defence their venom and their teeth. The whole of those ants whose peduncle has no scale, but one or two knots, are provided with a sting; the Red Ants, which are said to sting more sharply than the rest, possess both these sorts of arms. In general the ants furnished with a sting are, in our country, some of the smallest. I know but one species of middle size; but it is very rare and only inhabits the Alps.

The wars entered into by ants of different size bear no resemblance to those in which ants engage who come to combat with an equal force. When the large attack the small, they appear to do it by surprise, most likely to prevent the latter from fastening upon their legs; they seize them in the upper part of the body and strangle them immediately between their pincers. But when the small ants have time to guard against an attack, they intimate to their companions the danger with which they are threatened, when the latter arrive in crowds to their assistance. I have witnessed a battle between the Herculean and the Sanguine Ants; the Herculean Ants quitted the trunk of the tree in which they had established their abode, and arrived to the very gates of the dwelling of the Sanguine Ants; the latter, only half the size of their adversaries, had the advantage in point of number; they, however, acted on the defensive. The earth, strewed with the dead bodies of their compatriots, bore witness they had suffered the greatest carnage: they, therefore, took the prudent part of fixing their habitation elsewhere, and with great activity transported to a distance of fifty feet from the spot, their companions, and the several objects that interested them. Small detachments of the workers were posted at little distances from the nest, apparently placed there to cover the march of the recruits and to preserve the city itself from any sudden attack. They struck against each other when they met, and had always their mandibles separated in the attitude of defiance. As soon as the Herculean Ants approached their camp, the centinels in front assailed them with fury; they fought at first in single combat. The Sanguine Ant threw himself upon the Herculean Ant, fastened upon its head, turned its abdomen against the chest of its adversary or against the lower part of its mouth, and inundated it with venom. It sometimes quitted its antagonist with great quickness; more frequently, however, the Herculean Ant held between its feet its audacious enemy. The two champions then rolled themselves in the dust and struggled violently. The advantage was at first in favour of the largest ant; but its adversary was soon assisted by those of its own party, who collected around the Herculean Ant and inflicted several deep wounds with their teeth. The Herculean Ant yielded to numbers; it either perished the victim of its temerity, or was conducted a prisoner to the enemy’s camp.[2]

[2] I retained in close captivity in the same box, nearly a month, about an equal number of Red and Yellow Ants. It would seem that a general feeling of compassion for their unfortunate imprisonment had given birth to a suspension of hostilities, and that rankling animosity had been exchanged for good-will and social order. During this period I seldom witnessed any affray on the exterior of the nest, and on breaking it up, the interior gave me no room to suppose it had been the scene of much contention; but scarcely were they liberated, scarcely did they feel the fresh breeze passing over them, than their animosity rekindled, and the field of their liberty became the theatre of sanguinary combat. For a few moments each party seemed engaged in discovering a place of retreat, and it was only on returning to the ruins of their original prison, to bring off the rest of their companions, that they encountered and waged war upon each other. What was as singular as unexpected, they fought in pairs, in no one instance _en masse_; indeed, it only twice happened, although the ground was strewed with combatants, that a third came to the aid of its companion, and even then, as if conscious of the unequal contest, one immediately retired. It was inconceivable with what desperate fury, and with what determined obstinacy they fastened upon each other. With their mandibles alone they often succeeded in effecting a complete separation of the body of their antagonist, of which the ground exhibited many proofs when I revisited it.--T.

Such are the combats between ants of different size; but if we wish to behold regular armies, war in all its form, we must visit those forests in which the Fallow Ants establish their dominion over every insect in their territory. We shall there see populous and rival cities, regular roads passing from the ant-hill as so many rays from a centre, and frequented by an immense number of combatants, wars between hordes of the same species, for they are naturally enemies and jealous of the territory which borders their own capital. It is in these forests, I have witnessed the inhabitants of two large ant-hills engaged in spirited combat. I cannot pretend to say what occasioned discord between these republics. They were composed of ants of the same species, alike in their extent and population, and were situated about a hundred paces distance from each other. Two empires could not possess a greater number of combatants.

Let us figure to ourselves this prodigious crowd of insects covering the ground lying between these two ant-hills, and occupying a space of two feet in breadth. Both armies met at half-way from their respective habitations, and there the battle commenced. Thousands of ants took their station upon the highest ground, and fought in pairs, keeping firm hold of their antagonists by their mandibles: a considerable number were engaged in the attack and leading away prisoners. The latter made several ineffectual efforts to escape, as if aware that, upon their arrival at the camp they would experience a cruel death. The scene of warfare occupied a space of about three feet square; a penetrating odour exhaled from all sides; numbers of dead ants were seen covered with venom. Those ants composing groups and chains, took hold of each other’s legs and pincers, and dragged their antagonists on the ground. These groups formed successively. The fight usually commenced between two ants, who seized each other by the mandibles, and raised themselves upon their hind-legs, to allow of their bringing their abdomen forward, and spurting the venom upon their adversary. They were frequently so closely wedged together that they fell upon their sides, and fought a long time, in that situation, in the dust; they shortly after raised themselves, when each began dragging its adversary; but when their force was equal, the wrestlers remained immoveable, and fixed each other to the ground, until a third came to decide the contest. It more commonly happened that both ants received assistance at the same time, when the whole four, keeping firm hold of a foot or antenna, made ineffectual attempts to gain the battle. Some ants joined the latter, and these were, in their turn, seized by new arrivals. It was in this way they formed chains of six, eight, or ten ants, all firmly locked together; the equilibrium was only broken when several warriors, from the same republic advanced at the same time, who compelled those that were enchained to let go their hold, when the single combats again took place. On the approach of night each party returned gradually to the city, which served it for an asylum. The ants, which were either killed or led away in captivity, not being replaced by others, the number of combatants diminished, until their force was exhausted.

The ants returned to the field of battle before dawn. The groups again formed; the carnage recommenced with greater fury than on the preceding evening, and the scene of combat occupied a space of six feet in length by two in breadth. Success was for a long time doubtful; about mid-day the contending armies had removed to the distance of a dozen feet from one of their cities, whence I conclude some ground had been gained. The ants fought so desperately, that nothing could withdraw them from their enterprise; they did not even perceive my presence, and although I remained close to the army, none of them climbed upon my legs; they seemed absorbed in one object, that of finding an enemy to contend with.

This devotion for their country, is it not astonishing in such little insects? Can we conceive how nature, has inspired them with such interest for the colony in which they equally labour? These wars offer something still more surprising--_the instinct which enables each ant to know his own party_. How and by what sign do they distinguish their compatriots, in a contest, in which thousands of individuals of the same colour, of the same size, of the same odour, and even of the very same species, meet, attack, or defend themselves, inundate their adversaries with venom, and lead away prisoners? They march with defiance; even at the time they are approaching their companions they keep their mandibles wide asunder. They sometimes attack those of their own party; but on recognising them, immediately relax their hold. It often happens that those who are the object of this temporary error caress their compatriots with their antennæ, and readily appease their anger. What an idea does not this give us of the bond of union between these insects, and of the subtlety of their senses.

The common operations of the two colonies were not suspended during this warfare: the paths, which led to a distance in the forest, were as much thronged as in a time of peace, and all around the ant-hill order and tranquillity prevailed, with the exception only of that side on which the battle was raging. A crowd of these insects were constantly seen to be setting off for the scene of combat, while others were returning with their prisoners. This war terminated without any disastrous results to the two republics; long continued rains shortened its duration, and our warriors ceased to frequent the road which led to the camp of the enemy.

I have witnessed many such combats; but I shall not now relate them, under the fear of fatiguing my readers by too frequent repetition. I ought, however, to give them an idea of those which take place between the Fallow Ants and Sanguine Ants, since they differ much in character from those I have mentioned, approaching nearer the wars in which we ourselves engage.

The Sanguine Ants, when they are attacked by the Fallow Ants, go and await the enemy in little troops, at some distance from the nest: they advance in a body, without separating, and seize all those of their enemies who venture too far from their camp. These slight skirmishes are very amusing: the two parties place themselves in ambuscade, and suddenly attack each other in turns; but when the Sanguine Ants perceive that the Fallow Ants are advancing in force against them, they inform those at the ant-hill of the need in which they stand of their assistance. Immediately, a considerable army leaves the Sanguine city, advances in a body, and surrounds the enemy. Nothing more, I conceive, is wanting to prove the existence of a language between these insects. I have witnessed instances of this kind every day for several weeks. These combats were constantly renewed between the two ant-hills, which lay at some distance from each other, but were situated in the same hedge; so that the paths proceeding from each led to the adverse territory. Is not this sufficient to excite war between the greatest empires![3]

[3] In perusing the travels of M. Malouet, in the forests of _Guyana_, we shall be speedily convinced that ants are not always, even to man, contemptible enemies. We have reason to be thankful that those of our own country are so innocent, and that nature has reduced them to such different dimensions. “I crossed the river,” he says, “with M. de Prefontaine, for the purpose of visiting the woods. In the midst of a savannah, extending beyond the visible horizon, I observed a hillock, which had the appearance of being the work of man. He told me that it was an ant-hill. ‘What!’ said I, ‘is that immense structure the work of an insignificant insect?’ He proposed to take me, not to the ant-hill, where we should have been devoured, but towards the route of the labourers. In drawing near the wood, we saw several columns of these insects; some were going to, others returning from, the forest, carrying pieces of leaves, different seeds, and roots. These Black Ants were of the largest species; but I had no desire to take a close survey of them. Their habitation, to which I approached within forty paces, appeared to be from fifteen to twenty feet high, and from thirty to forty broad; its form was that of a pyramid, truncated at about one-third of its height. From M. de Prefontaine, I learned, that when a native had the misfortune to meet one of these dreaded fortresses in turning up the earth, he was obliged to abandon his establishment, provided he could not lay a regular siege to it. This circumstance occurred to him, on his first encampment at _Kouron_; he then encamped at a little distance, but shortly perceived a hillock like that before us. He dug a circular trench, and filled it with a large quantity of dry wood, and when he had fired it in several places, he attacked the ant-hill with cannon. The shaking of the earth, and the bursting forth of the flames, left the enemy no means of escape, for they were obliged to traverse, in their retreat, the trench filled with matter in a state of combustion,” &c. &c.--A.

I shall now offer a few observations, to which I shall give no definite term, since they relate to scenes that I dare not qualify with the title _gymnastic_, although they bear a close resemblance to scenes of that kind. It is to the Fallow Ants I am indebted for these details; they have already furnished me with several remarkable particulars. Do they not owe to the immense population of their nest those differences which their industry and character present; it is at least highly probable, but I will not positively affirm it. I visited, one day, one of their ant-hills, exposed to the sun and sheltered from the north; the ants were heaped one upon another in great numbers, and appeared to enjoy the temperature on the surface of the nest. None of them were at work. This immense multitude of insects presented the appearance of a liquid in the state of ebullition, upon which the eye had some difficulty in resting; but when I examined the conduct of each ant, I saw them approach each other, moving their antennæ with astonishing rapidity. With slight movements of their fore-feet they patted the lateral parts of the head of the other ants. After these first gestures, which resembled caresses, they were observed to raise themselves upon their hind-legs by pairs, struggle together, seize each other by a mandible, foot, or antenna, and then immediately relax their hold to re-commence the attack. They fastened on the thorax or abdomen, embraced and overthrew each other, then raised themselves by turns, taking their revenge without producing any mischief. They did not spurt forth their venom, as in their combats, nor retain their adversary with that obstinacy which we observe in their serious quarrels. They presently abandoned the ants they had seized, and endeavoured to lay hold of others. I saw some who were so eager in these exercises, that they pursued successively several workers, and struggled with them a few moments, the combat only terminating, when the least animated, having overthrown his antagonist, succeeded in escaping and hiding in one of the galleries.

I frequently visited this ant-hill, which almost always presented me the same spectacle: sometimes this disposition was general; groups of ants were seen here and there struggling together; but I never saw any quit the ant-hill wounded or maimed.

The inhabitants of other ant-hills but rarely engage in this amusement, half-warlike, half-social. If the manners, however, of ants of the same species are essentially alike, their habitudes offer very distinct shades of difference in the several colonies. These republics, from having no communication with each other, contract particular habits in the different circumstances under which they may be placed: abundance or scarcity, the proximity or distance from whence the ants draw their materials, the labours to which they are called, the neighbourhood of an antagonist ant-hill, or other accidental circumstances, considerably influence their actions. The colony of which we are speaking was one of those remarkable for its harmony; the insects of which it was composed did not cease offering their companions nourishment, caressing them with their antennæ, and carrying them from place to place. I am induced to believe this friendly disposition originated from the situation of the ant-hill, which was contiguous to the source whence they obtained their food, inclosed between a ditch full of water and a very thick hedge, which preserved them from the visits of strange ants and other enemies. What contributes to strengthen me in this opinion is, that I have observed the same exercises in my glazed ant-hill, when the ants were abundantly supplied with nourishment, when they were perfectly reconciled to their abode, and under the influence of a mild temperature.

Other ant-hills presented me some particulars a little different from the above. I often saw on the surface of the nest workers that appeared affected with vertigo; they made several evolutions in the sun with convulsive movements, opening their pincers and running in every direction over the ant-hills. Shortly after, some, affected in the like manner, began to frisk about, and then entered the first gallery they found on their passage. These ants deranged every thing about them; but this disposition continued only two or three minutes, and was, I think, occasioned by the heat of the sun, never having observed it to take place but when the sun was high in the horizon. Several of those I noticed, after having whirled round some moments, fastened on the other ants by a leg or antenna, then relaxed their hold to run after others; sometimes carrying them off, but doing them no injury. In one place two ants appeared to be gambolling about a stalk of grass; they turned alternately to avoid or seize each other, which brought to my recollection the sport and the feigned combats of young dogs, when they rise on their hind-legs, attempting to bite, overthrow, and seize each other, without once closing their teeth.

To witness these facts, it is necessary to approach the ant-hills with much caution, that the ants should have no idea of our presence; if they had, they would cease at the moment their plays and their occupations, would put themselves in a posture of defence, curve their abdomen and ejaculate their venom. So much is their attention occupied, when making preparations for war, that they lose sight of all other objects.

The ants then are acquainted with labours, combats, I was about to say, pleasures[4]; they possess signs which are of use to them as a language, give proofs of their affection for each other, and of devotedness for their colony, and take care of the females and their little ones. These are well-known traits of civilization; and if ants were only of the size of beavers, we should think we could not sufficiently admire them.

[4] They have also their diseases. I have noticed one extremely singular. The individuals who are attacked, lose the power of advancing in a straight line; they cannot proceed but by turning in a very confined circle, and always in the same direction. A virgin female that was enclosed in one of my sand boxes was suddenly seized in this way; she described a circle of an inch in diameter, making about a thousand turns each hour. She turned constantly during seven days, and when I visited her in the night, I saw her engaged in the same practice. I gave her some honey, of which I have every reason to believe she partook. I once discovered three labourers performing these evolutions, one of them still possessed the faculty of occasionally moving in a straight line. I took it up and placed it on my hand; it continued its gyrations, stopped a moment to taste some honey, and recommenced its circular journey. The second labourer, which was of the Ash-coloured species, had one of its antennæ cut; it however escaped, before I had made upon it the experiments I proposed. The third labourer, belonging to the Fallow Ants, had suffered no external injury. I am unacquainted with the cause of this malady; the only one I have observed ants to be affected with.--A.

CHAP. VI.

OF THE RELATION OF ANTS WITH THE PUCERONS AND GALL INSECTS.

1. _Of the Antennal Language._

Let us return to the important question, relative to the language of ants. If they have a language, I cannot give too many proofs of it; if I labour under an error, the following facts, in whatever manner they may be explained, will plead my excuse.

Imagining that I have not presumed too much upon the justness of my conclusions, I have been under the necessity of admitting, that ants possess the means of communicating their different impressions, and I think this faculty consists, in the striking with their head the corslet of their companions, and in the contact of their mandibles; but these are the common signs of which they make use. The antennæ, the organs of touch, and, perhaps, of some other sense which is unknown to us, are the principal instruments connected with the language of ants: their situation in the fore-part of the head, their flexibility, their construction, which presents a series of articulations, endowed with extreme sensibility; their close connection with instinct, added to the observations I made, whilst speaking of the conduct of these insects, in reference to the females, males, and labourers, induce me to believe that the antennæ perform the most important office among ants. We have seen insects frequently use them on the field of battle, to intimate approaching danger, and to ascertain their own party when mingled with the enemy; they are also employed, in the interior of the ant-hill, to warn their companions of the presence of the sun, so favourable to the development of the larvæ; in their excursions and emigrating, to indicate their route; in their recruitings, to determine the time of departure, &c. Let us still see of what further service they are to these insects. As ants do not possess the art of constructing magazines, and filling them with provisions, they cannot, like bees, draw their supply from the cells; they are, therefore, obliged to quit their habitation: those, who remain at home, expect their food from the labourers, who are gone abroad to procure it; the latter bring back small insects, or the bodies of such as they have dismembered. When they fall in with ripe fruit, or animals of tender flesh, as worms, lizards, &c. and are not able to convey them to the ant-hill, they feed upon their juices, and on their return to their habitation, their stomachs being filled with the liquid provision, they disgorge it in the mouths of their companions, which is effected in this manner:--the ant, who experiences hunger, begins striking with both its antennæ, with an extremely rapid movement, the antennæ of the ant from whom it waits its supply; it then draws closer, with its mouth open, and its tongue extended, to receive the fluid, which is observed to pass from the mouth of one to that of the other: during this operation, the ant who is receiving aliment, does not cease caressing its kind friend, by continuing to move its antennæ with great quickness; it also plays upon the lateral parts of the head of its benefactor, with its fore-feet, which are furnished with very thick brushes, and which, from the delicacy and rapidity of their movement, yield in no respect to the antennæ. The ant, who returns from foraging in the fields, is well acquainted with the mode of informing its companions of the necessity under which it lies, of discharging a part of the fluid with which it is provided, and by the aid of its antennæ, appears to invite them to come and take their portion; but it does not, in this case, make use of the fore-feet. This language is well understood by these insects; even the larvæ, who know how to demand their nourishment, (by raising their head, as we have before remarked,) erect themselves, and present their mouths, as soon as they perceive the ant striking with its antennæ the upper part of their body.

The antennal language would require, without doubt, deep study, should we be desirous to ascertain every impression which it is susceptible of communicating. It is, like all the other signs I have observed amongst ants, founded not upon visible gestures, but upon the contact or approximation of certain parts; since it was necessary it should prove of utility in the interior of the ant-hill, where the light of day never penetrates: hence it happens, that an ant can only be understood by one of its companions at the same time, but the information which it conveys, passes from one to the other with extreme rapidity. If it so happen, that we can prove they know how to impart information to insects, not of their own species, we must conclude they have been singularly favoured by nature.

2. _The Intimacy of Ants with the Pucerons._

We know that a great number of vegetables furnish provision to the _Pucerons_ or _Aphides_. These insects fix themselves upon the leaves, or small branches, and insinuate their trunk or sucker between the fibres of the bark, where they find the most substantial nourishment. A portion of this aliment, shortly after being taken, is expelled, under the form of small limpid drops, either by the natural passage, or by two horns, that we commonly observe on the posterior part of the body. This fluid constitutes the principal support of the ants. We have already noticed, that they wait the moment when the pucerons eject this precious manna[1], upon which they (the ants) immediately seize; but this is the least of their talents, for they know how to obtain it at any time they wish.

[1] This substance may be frequently seen on the leaves of the oak, lime, and other trees. It has a glossy appearance, and is remarkably sweet to the taste. The Abbé Boisier de Sauvages states, that bees will occasionally wage war with ants, to obtain possession of this honied secretion.--T.

I observed a branch of a thistle, covered with Brown Ants and pucerons, and noticed that the latter regulated the time when they discharged this secretion; but I remarked, that it very rarely passed at the natural period, and that the pucerons, stationed at some distance from the ants, scattered it afar off, by a movement somewhat resembling the kicking or wincing of a horse. How happened it, then, that the ants, wandering upon the branches, displayed bellies remarkable for their size, and evidently filled with some kind of liquid. This is what I learned, by watching closely a single ant, whose movements I am about to describe. I saw it, at first, pass, without stopping, some pucerons, which it did not however disturb. It shortly after stationed itself near one of the smallest, and appeared to caress it, by touching the extremity of its body, alternately with its antennæ, with an extremely rapid movement. I saw, with much surprise, the fluid proceed from the body of the puceron, and the ant take it in its mouth. Its antennæ were afterwards directed to a much larger puceron than the first, which, on being caressed after the same manner, discharged the nourishing fluid in greater quantity, which the ant immediately swallowed: it then passed to a third which it caressed, like the preceding, by giving it several gentle blows, with the antennæ, on the posterior extremity of the body; the liquid was ejected at the same moment, and the ant lapped it up. It then proceeded to a fourth; this, probably already exhausted, resisted its action. The ant, who in all probability knew it had nothing to hope for by remaining there, quitted it for a fifth, from whom it obtained its expected supply. It now returned, perfectly contented, to its nest.[2] A small number of such repasts will satisfy an ant. I still observed those which remained upon the thistle; they presented me the same scene. From that period, I always found, that the arrival of the ants, and the striking with their antennæ, preceded the gift of this liquid, and that the attitude of the pucerons (their head being lowered,) appeared destined to favour this object. I have a thousand times witnessed these proceedings, which ants always employ with success. If, however, they neglect for a long time visiting them, they (the pucerons) deposit the honey upon the leaves, where the ants find it on their return.

[2] The more we contemplate the works of nature, and observe the means she employs in her ordinary operations, the more will our admiration be excited. Who, for one moment, could suppose, that, as in the instance before us, what is used as food by one animal, should, on its passage through the body, become the food of another, and thus discharge a double office! Who could suppose that excrementitious matter, of whatever kind, _after supporting myriads of living beings_, should, on undergoing decomposition, and being separated into its primary elements, enter into those several combinations, that diffuse a charming variety around us! How wise is this provision! how admirable this contrivance! Were it otherwise, we should be perpetually breathing an atmosphere, charged with noisome effluvia, and living in the very charnel-house of destruction. In the hands of nature nothing is lost; all is life and activity: even the death of one being, is but a commencement of the existence of another. Vapours raised from the sea, and floating in the upper regions of the air, collect into clouds; these, on a reduction of temperature, yield their contents to the thirsty earth: the waters, after fulfilling their appointed office, pass from the mountains by a thousand rills, into the plains; here, by their junction, they form rivers, which, taking a circuitous course, empty themselves into the ocean. Thus we see nature engaged in _running a perpetual round_, and the waters, after cooling the atmosphere and refreshing the earth, return to that source whence they originally sprung.--T.

When the ants come frequently to these insects, the latter appear to accommodate themselves to their wish, by shortening the period of their evacuations, which may be ascertained by the size of the drops they produce; and, in that case, they never eject it to a distance. We might even say, they are very careful in retaining it, for the purpose of placing it within their immediate reach. It sometimes happens, that the ants are too abundant upon the same plant, and, therefore, exhaust the pucerons that cover it. Under this circumstance, they vainly attempt to play with their antennæ upon the body of these insects; they are obliged to wait until the pucerons have replenished themselves by a further ration drawn from the branches. The pucerons are not avaricious, and never resist the solicitation of the ants, when in a state to satisfy them. I have often seen the same individual grant, successively, several drops of this fluid to different ants, who appeared extremely anxious to obtain it. The Brown Ant is not the only ant endowed with this art, although it is certainly one of the most skilful in procuring, in this way, its subsistence. The Fallow, the Ash-coloured, the Red, and several other ants, possess, in different degrees, the power of inducing these insects to deliver over to them this secretion. The Red Ant displays a singular address in receiving this little drop. It employs its antennæ, the extremity of which is a little enlarged, to convey it to its mouth, as if they were real fingers.

It does not appear that it is by importunity ants obtain from the pucerons their nourishment. I observed some Fuliginous Ants upon the branches of an oak, which were loaded with large black pucerons. The latter were walking backward and forward, and appeared to live in the best intelligence with the ants: they provided them with honey, but did not attempt to escape, although they were much more nimble than those of which I have already spoken. I saw one, in this assembly, that possessed wings: its wings, which were black, ornamented with two white rays, together with its size, made it very conspicuous amongst its companions. I saw several ants very busy and restless around it, because it approached the other pucerons, from whom they were about to demand their repast. They proceeded toward it, in great haste, gave it a few blows with their antennæ, and stationed themselves near the former. I was, at first, of opinion, that the winged pucerons embarrassed them; but, in a favourable moment, I observed it to be struck or caressed by the ants, when it yielded to them the food they solicited. I have often noticed, since that period, other winged pucerons delivering to the ants, without restraint, this valuable liquid; they allowed themselves to be touched by the antennæ of those insects, remained upon the branch where their companions who were destitute of wings were stationed, and did not appear to avoid the ants, whose number one would suppose would inconvenience them. This proves that the neighbourhood of the ants is agreeable to the pucerons, since those who might easily withdraw from their visits, prefer resting among them, bestowing upon them what is superfluous of their nourishment.

I have noticed the same occurrence with respect to the greater part of the ants of this country. The largest pay their visits also to the pucerons. One would be astonished to see how they treat them, and with what delicacy they invite them with their antennæ (which are different from those of the Red Ants, and more slender at the extremity than elsewhere) to deliver over the honey.[3] I am not acquainted with any ants, to whom the art of obtaining from the pucerons their subsistence, is unknown: we might even venture to affirm that these insects have been created for their use.

[3] We know that these ants which have two knots on the abdominal fillet, have their antennæ enlarged; in those of the other classes, they are filiform and setaceous.--A.

3. _Of the Relation of Ants with the Gall Insects._

We know that the gall insects as well as the pucerons, station themselves on the leaves and branches of trees, to suck their juices. The mouth and the sexual parts are applied against the tree; the orifice, destined to reject the excess of their nourishment, is placed on the back. The ants are attracted by the gall insects as well as the pucerons: I am not the first to have observed it. It has been long known that the kermes, and the cochineal insects, which are generally allied to our gall insects, are always accompanied by ants, but we were unacquainted with the reason for this intimacy. It had never been remarked, that the gall insects delivered over to them, like the pucerons, a considerable portion of the fluids they extract.

M. de Reaumur himself believed, that the puncture made upon the tree by the gall insects, continued to pour forth a fluid after they had withdrawn their sucker, and that the ants came up immediately to lap the juice which transuded; but this conjecture, however probable it then appeared, has not been verified. These insects, which had for so many years escaped our notice, were at all times known by the ants to be beings endowed with life and sensation. I was very much astonished when I saw, for the first time, an ant approach a gall insect, and perform with its antennæ, on its lower extremity, the same manœuvres, which it executed in respect to the pucerons. After having a few moments caressed this insect, I saw proceed from its back, a large drop of fluid, which the ant immediately lapped up. I observed the same occurrence, with reference to other gall insects on the same tree, during several seasons. They were stationed in great number upon an enlarged part of the trunk. The ants came there constantly to receive their provisions, which was fully confirmed by my observing these insects upon an orange tree, where I saw the ants obtain from them their food in the same manner. We can only compare the movements of ants upon this occasion, to the play of the fingers in a shake upon the piano-forte.

The kermes, like the pucerons, eject this fluid to a distance when the ants are not present to receive it; this, however, but rarely happens. The gall insects of the vine, the peach, and the mulberry-tree, never failed presenting me with the same spectacle; which gave me some general ideas respecting the relation which exists between the instinct of these insects and that of ants. That the pucerons and the gall insects experience pleasure, when caressed in this way by the ants; that it is an advantage to them to be earlier rid of their secretions; or that there really exists between each, some kind of language, is still one of those questions upon which we cannot well decide: but we shall not the less admire the manner in which ants procure their subsistence. This fluid is to them an inexhaustible treasure. It will be enough, to be convinced of this truth, to station one’s-self near an oak covered with these insects, where we shall, soon after, observe thousands of ants ascending and descending the trunk. All those ascending have small bellies, and walk nimbly; those, on the contrary, descending, have their abdomen swoln, transparent, full of the fluid obtained from these insects, and do not move but with difficulty.

4. _The almost Human Industry of Ants._

There are ants that scarcely ever quit their abode; we neither observe them moving towards trees or their fruit; they do not even go in chace of other insects; they are, notwithstanding, extremely common in our meadows and orchards. I allude to the Yellow Ants, called by the common people Red Ants, and which would merit the surname of _souterraines_. They are two lines in length, their body is of a pale yellow colour, slightly transparent, and covered with hair.

I knew where all the other ants sought and obtained their nourishment; but I could not ascertain what these did to exist, and what aliment they could furnish themselves with, without quitting their habitation; when, one day, having turned up the earth of which their nest was composed, to discover if they had any provision, I found it to contain the pucerons. I saw them at the roots of the grass which surrounded the ant-hill. They were assembled in considerable numbers, and were of different species: the most common, were of a flesh colour and of a round form; others were white, and had the body more flattened; but they were of the same genus. There were also some that were green and violet coloured, others with black and green rays; the latter stood higher upon their legs, and were much longer. Some were removed to a great depth, attached to the deeper part of the roots; others were wandering about in the midst of the ants, either in the upper or under-ground chambers. The ants appeared to seize the favourable moment for taking their food; they acted in the ordinary manner, and always with the same success. This clearly explained, why the ants of this species did not quit their abode, since they had, without leaving it, all that was necessary for their support.

I was anxious to verify this discovery, by looking into several nests of the Yellow Ants, where I always found the pucerons. They may be readily seen after warm rains; for they at that time keep near the surface of the ground: the plants upon which they are stationed may be then readily plucked up by the roots, without crushing these insects, which happens when the earth is too dry. I soon found that the Yellow Ants were extremely jealous of these insects; they took them often in their mouths, and carried them to the bottom of the nest; at other times, they brought them up among them, or followed them with much solicitude. I profited by the information I had acquired of their way of life, so as to nourish, at my own residence, one of their colonies. I placed the ants in a glazed box, with their pucerons, leaving in the earth I gave them the roots of some plants, whose branches vegetated without. I watered from time to time the ant-hill, and in this manner, the plants, the pucerons, and the ants themselves, found in this apparatus abundant nourishment. The ants made no attempt to escape; they appeared to have nothing to desire; they took care of their larvæ and females, with the same affection as in their own nest; they also paid great attention to the pucerons, and never injured them. The latter did not seem to labour under the slightest fear; they allowed themselves to be carried from place to place, and rested in the spot chosen by their guardians. When the ants wished to displace them, they began caressing them with their antennæ, hoping thereby, to induce them to abandon the roots, or to withdraw their trunk from the cavity in which it was inserted; they afterwards took them up gently in their mandibles, and carried them with the same care as the larvæ of their own species. I witnessed the same ant remove, successively, three of these insects, much larger than itself, and convey them to a darkened chamber.[4] There was one which made a long resistance, probably by not being enabled, at the moment, to withdraw its trunk, which might have been buried deeply in the wood. I was much amused in observing the various attempts made by this ant, to induce it to quit its hold; it caressed and seized it alternately, until it at length yielded to its wishes. The ants do not employ this gentle method, when they labour under an apprehension that these insects may be taken away from them by the ants of another species, living near their habitation, or when we happen to tread too heavily on the grass under which they are concealed, for they then seize upon them directly, and carry them off to the under-ground chambers. I have seen the ants of two neighbouring nests disputing about their pucerons; when the ants of one nest were enabled to enter the habitation of their neighbours, they purloined these insects, which were, after a time, often recovered by their original possessors. The ants know full well the value of these little animals, which, it would appear, had been created for them;--they constitute their sole wealth, an ant-hill being more or less rich, as it is more or less provided with pucerons; they are in fact their cattle, their cows, their goats, &c. Who could have imagined that the ants were a pastoral tribe! But a question here presents itself of some interest:--Do the pucerons, which I have constantly found in nests of this species, come of their own free will to reside there, or are they brought thither by the ants? the latter appears to me most probable, for the ants are in the habit of carrying them continually from place to place, and are the individuals who receive all the advantages attending this relation.

[4] I have often been surprised at the strength, as well as address, occasionally displayed by ants. At the entrance of a nest of Red Ants, I placed a large house-fly; several ants came out from time to time, to examine it. But what was my surprise, to see a solitary ant attempt the removal of so large a body: it caught hold of one of the wings forcibly by its pincers, and exerted all its strength to drag it along. This it did with apparent ease, where the ground was not uneven; but on meeting any obstruction, and finding the _dragging system_ useless, it quitted its post for the opposite station, and overcame the resistance by _pushing_. In this way it removed the fly to a considerable distance. A difficulty at length presented itself, which I thought insuperable. The ant, however, did not relax in its exertions: after attempting to _drag_ it for some time, it endeavoured to _push_ it forward, going alternately to the several parts of the body. All these efforts were useless. In this emergency it seized the fly in its mouth, and by a sudden jerk lifted it from the ground, and thus overcame the impediment.--“The Mahometans hold, on the relation of Thevenot (as mentioned by Messrs. Kirby and Spence), that one of the animals in Paradise is Solomon’s Ant, which, when all creatures, in obedience to him, brought him presents, dragged before him a locust, and was therefore preferred before all others, because it had brought a creature so much bigger than itself.”--T.

I am strongly inclined to believe, that the Yellow Ants, and all those who are endowed with the same industry, go in search of these insects through the subterranean galleries they have formed between the roots; that they find them scattered among the grass, and bring them to the nest. I cannot conceive, if this be not the case, why there should be so many of these insects in ant-hills, for they are not equally common elsewhere. I have seldom discovered them under the grass, but they were surrounded by Yellow Ants, who arrive at their haunts by subterranean passages, and who, probably, convey them to their nest in the autumn. They often seized upon them in my presence, and withdrew with them by some obscure path, which proves that these insects are at their complete disposal.

It is more particularly during the bad weather, that they assemble them at the bottom of the nest. In the summer, we more frequently find them at the foot of the plant, contiguous to the ant-hill, where the plants suffer less from drought than when growing upon the very nest; but this is nearly the same as if they were enclosed with the ants, since their habitation extends more within the earth than without.

Four or five species of ants keep pucerons in their abode; but less constantly, and in much smaller number, than the Yellow Ants, as they obtain a portion of their subsistence from those inhabiting trees. There are some, who reach the branches, loaded with these insects, under a covered way of earth, leading directly from their nest. Here the ants are as well furnished with food as if they kept the pucerons in their own dwelling; and as often as they wish to bring these insects to their nest, they can accomplish it without the knowledge of other ants, and without incurring any risk. The Red, the Brown, the Turf Ant, and another species, excessively small, are always, during Autumn, Winter, and Spring, in the possession of pucerons. The latter, which we might name the microscopic ant, for it is only half a line in length, equally finds pucerons proportioned to its size: they are of a white colour, and a little larger than the ant itself. The pucerons then are the domestic animals of the ants: the latter collect these insects around them, as we collect those animals which administer to our wants, near the habitation in which we reside. The animals which are subject to our controul, know the voice of man; the pucerons and the gall insects understand, as it should seem, the language of ants, and furnish them with their aliment, unconstrained. There are several other insects which live among ants, although they do not appear to be of any service to them; these are, woodlice, earwigs, and certain larvæ of the scarabæi. The ants, from being accustomed to their sight, permit their residence among them; they never do them any injury, which is the more singular, as ants pass in general for beings of an irritable disposition.

But what is invariable, what I have always witnessed respecting the Yellow Ants, and what it is of some importance to know, is, that they have pucerons in their nests, and that they never destroy them: they, on the contrary, bring them together, to enjoy more conveniently, the fluid which these insects furnish them.

If these ants display, in this respect, an industry worthy of man, there are others, whose proceedings are not less remarkable, and who appear to take possession of the pucerons, which feed on the branches of trees, and the stalks of herbaceous plants. The ants, extremely jealous in preserving these insects, and especially those who reside near them, will not suffer any strangers to come and dispute with them the nourishment they offer. They drive them off with their mandibles, become uneasy and restless, and pass over the branch with every mark of anger. They sometimes take these insects in their mouths, to guard them from the attacks of other ants: more frequently, they station a guard around them; and when they are enabled to do so, they put them out of the reach of their rivals, by a very ingenious method, of which I have seen many examples.

I observed one day on the stem of a thistle, a little sphere or lodgment, which the ants had fabricated with earth; they quitted it by an extremely narrow aperture formed in the bottom, descended along the stalk, and passed into a neighbouring ant-hill. I destroyed one part of this tent, constructed almost in air, to see the interior, which consisted of a little hall, whose sides of a vaulted form, were smooth and compact. The ants had availed themselves of the form of the plant, to sustain this edifice; the stem passed through the centre of the apartment, and its leaves composed the whole of the _carpentry_. This retreat contained an extensive family of pucerons, from whom the Brown Ants peaceably received their food, sheltered from the rain and sun, and safe from the invasion of foreign ants; no insect could disturb them, and the pucerons were not exposed to the attacks of their various enemies. I admired this trait of their industry; but I soon observed it on a more extensive scale, and with greater interest, among ants of a different species.

Some Red Ants had constructed around the foot of a thistle a cylinder of earth, two inches and a half in length, by one and a half in breadth. The ant-hill lay below, and communicated directly with this tunnel. I took the branch, with its contents, and found that portion of the stem comprised in the tunnel, furnished with pucerons. I presently saw go out, by the opening which I had made at its base, a few ants, who seemed much astonished at the light appearing in that place. I perceived they were living there with their larvæ; they transported them in a hurry, to the upper part of the cylinder, which had not been injured. It was here they kept at their disposal, their joint stock of pucerons, and here they nourished their little ones.