THE ANT-LION 67 



fessor into their very midst. The sandy soil at the 

 foot of the cliff was dimpled with tiny funnel- 

 shaped pits such as a child might make with his 

 little finger except that these pits were carefully 

 hollowed out to a point at the bottom. We knew 

 at once that here were the ant-lions in their native 

 sand pile. No jungle for them nor nocturnal 

 stalking of prey like the king of beasts. "Ant- 

 trapper" would be a more descriptive name. These 

 wary creatures lurk in their pits until chance 

 brings some victim into their clutches. 



I took a grass stem and carefully lowered it to 

 the bottom of the pit. It was seized with no 

 uncertain grasp. I jerked away suddenly. Sur- 

 prised out of his caution, the creature forgot to let 

 go of the grass until I had him out where we 

 could look at him. Such a pair of jaws! They 

 were long and curved like sickles, with wicked 

 looking points. No doubt they were sharp, but I 

 preferred not to let him try them on my finger, as 

 suggested by the Professor. There are some things 

 on which I am willing to let my eyes alone bear 

 witness to my understanding. 



When I offered the grass stem again to my lion 

 he seized it, then let go and began to retreat, his 

 hunched back adding to his awkwardness. No 

 wonder he preferred not to stalk his prey, if this 

 was his rate of speed ! His body seemed a mere 

 storehouse attached to the great jaws and head. 

 I shoved him toward his pit, and in he tumbled 

 head over heels. In an incredibly short space of 

 time, his body was out of sight. All we could see 



