A TOUR THROUGH A TEXAS ANT-HILL. 255 



" Joseph doesn't have any, at all events," said Aunt 

 Hannah, smiling. 



"Besides that," I continued, "the naturalist, as a 

 priest in the temple of nature, must have some power 

 over the life of the lower creatures. I didn't kill any 

 more ants than were actual^ necessary for study. If 

 we hadn't killed them they would have driven us from 

 the held ; for I assure you, Aunt Hannah, they don't 

 practice your gentle Quaker principles of non-resist- 

 ance. But to go back to my story. 



"By dint of perseverance we finished our trenches, 

 and had beautifully exposed the interior of the formi- 

 cary. We were not long in reaching the caves in which 

 the ants dwell. Then came my turn to enter the 

 trench, for the rude strokes of spade and pick could not 

 be trusted to the delicate work of making out the 

 forms and jiroportions of the rooms and roadways of 

 the formicary. It is no easy task to trace these 

 through the inside of a crumbling ant-hill, and it re- 

 quired careful work. Down into the trench, therefore, 

 I nuist go, and as I had to work slowly and at close 

 quarters, picking away piece by piece, measuring, tak- 

 ing notes, gathering specimens, I was flxr more exposed 

 "than my assistants. Indeed, it required the united 

 efforts of all three to keep the aiits away from my face. 

 As for the rest of my body I bade ,them let that go, 

 although occasionally a soldier ant would thrust his 

 sharp sickles even through mj^ clothing, and force me 

 to give him attention. However, our punishment by 

 these insects was mild as compared with that of the 



