HEATHLANDS 



SANDOWN has become one of the most familiar places 

 near the metropolis, but the fir woods at the back of it 

 are perhaps scarcely known to exist by many who visit 

 the fashionable knoll. Though near at hand, they are 

 shut off by the village of Esher; but a mile or two 

 westwards, down the Portsmouth highway, there is a 

 cart road on the left hand which enters at once into 

 the woods. 



The fine white sand of the soil is only covered by a 

 thin coating of earth formed from the falling leaves and 

 decayed branches, so thin that it may sometimes be 

 rubbed away by the foot or even the fingers. Grass and 

 moss grow sparingly in the track, but wherever wheels 

 or footsteps have passed at all frequently the sand 

 is exposed in white streaks under the shadowy firs. 

 In grass small objects often escape observation, but 

 on such a bare surface everything becomes visible. 

 Coming to one of these places on a summer day, 

 I saw a stream of insects crossing and recrossing, 

 from the fern upon one side to the fern upon the 

 other. 



They were ants, but of a very much larger species 

 than the little red-and-black "emmets" which exist 

 in the meadows. These horse ants were not much 

 less than half an inch in length, with a round spot at 



