54 



THE TRIBES ON MY FRONTIER. 



wild with terror, rushes headlong to the nearest outlet, 

 and is collared by the guards and stung to death almost 

 before it has time to realize the situation. The frantic 

 crickets break into coruscations of agility which would 

 enable one who has never seen an aurora borealis to 

 realize it. But all is vain. Within a quarter of an hour 

 the ants are marching out as they marched in, three 

 abreast, with rapid steps ; but now, with drooping limbs 

 and trailing antennae, cockroach and cricket, cricket and 

 cockroach, follow the long column in funeral procession. 



PANIC. 



