THE MUSEUM. 



121 



them by the generic name of "hor- 

 migas, " or ants. Along the forest 

 paths the great mounds of earth they 

 throw up are conspicuohs enougli, and 

 from them radiate well beaten roads, 

 four or five inches in width, and run- 

 ning in all directions. There they do 

 no harm; but when they make their 

 nests near a garden or plantation, it 

 becomes a question which is to survive, 

 the ants or the garden, for one or the 

 other must be destroyed. Their food 

 almost entirely consists of leaves of 

 trees and other plants, and so numer- 

 ous are they in a well-established 

 colony, and such indefatigable work- 

 ers, that they will strip a good-si/:ed 

 tree, such as an orange, in a single 

 night, carrying off the spoil, cut into 

 pieces about the size of one's thumb- 

 nail, into their nests, there to be stored 

 for future use in a manner I will des- 

 cribe when we come to the structure 

 of their houses. 



It was my misfortune on two occa- 

 sions to find strong colonies of these 

 ants within measurable distance of 

 where I had to make my garden; so 

 there was nothing for it but to dig 

 thein out bodily, or give up the hope 

 of vegetables. The process of digging 

 was a laborious one, as in one instance 

 over two hundred and fifty cubic yards 

 of earth had to be moved; but it cer- 

 tainly gave me a close acquaintance 

 with their ways and habits. 



They are divided into four classes — 

 queens, drivers, workers and builders. 

 The queens are nearly as large as hor- 

 nets, with well-developed wings; 

 though why, it is hard to understand, 

 since they are always found in the in- 

 terior of the nest, and devote their 

 time and attention solely to the prop- 

 agation of the race. The drivers or 

 officers are nearly half an inch in 

 length, and are armed with formidable 

 nippers in their jaws, with which they 

 can intiict a sharp bite; quite sharp 

 enough to cut through the skin of one's 

 finger. They are absolutely fearless, 

 and will attack any enemy, however 

 large, without hesitation. They do 



not work themselves, but run up and 

 down the roads, when the workers are 

 out, keeping them in order, and seeing 

 that all goes well with the procession. 

 The workers, about one-half the size 

 of the drivers, cut the leaf, and carry 

 it in their mandibles, held perpendicu- 

 larly over their heads, to' the nests — 

 whence the name of "umbrella ants." 

 The builders, as I have called them, 

 because it is difficult to conceive what 

 else they do, are the size of the com- 

 mon red garden ant of this country. 

 They always accompany the workers 

 on their expeditions, and, I believe, 

 carry into the nests minute particles of 

 clay, with which they line all the gal- 

 leries and passages, as well as the ac- 

 tual nests themselves, until they look 

 as though they were cemented and 

 smoothed by the caroful hand of an 

 expert mason. The ants do not always 

 select a tree near their abode on which 

 to work, but will often march to and 

 fro, quite a quarter of a mile or more, 

 to one that suits their taste. Once 

 they have made up their minds to strip 

 a certain tree, nothing but death will 

 stop them. Often and often I have 

 watched the negroes and Indians try- 

 ing to drive them away from, say, a 

 favorite orange-tree, with flaming 

 torches of dry palm-leaves. Running 

 these over the ants' road, close to the 

 ground, millions of them are burnt to 

 death, whilst the survivers shelter in 

 the grass, or hurry back pell-mell to 

 the nest. This process the niggers call 

 "swingeing," but it is no good what- 

 ever, for if you go out in an hour or 

 so, you will find the undaunted ants 

 hard at work on the very tree they 

 were turned back from. 



Some faint idea can be formed of 

 their numbers when it is remembered 

 that the whole of this road to the tree, 

 perhaps nearly half a mile long, is 

 densely thronged with the multitudes 

 going out empty, and returning laden 

 with their umbrella-like burdens; 

 whilst thousands and thousands will be 

 swarming in the doomed tree. They 

 have a strong objection to rain, and 



