THE ARMY ANTS' HOME TOWN 65 



on their chemical errands. And then this whole 

 theory, this most vivid simile, is quite upset by 

 the sights that I watch in the suburbs of this ant 

 home! 



The columns were most excellent barometers, 

 and their reaction to passing showers was invari- 

 able. The clay surface held water, and after 

 each downfall the pools would be higher, and the 

 contour of the little region altered. At the first 

 few drops, all the ants would hasten, the throb- 

 bing corpuscles speeding up. Then, as the rain 

 came down heavier, the column melted away, 

 those near each end hurrying to shelter and those 

 in the center crawling beneath fallen leaves and 

 bits of clod and sticks. A moment before, hun- 

 dreds of ants were trudging around a tiny pool, 

 the water lined with ant handrails, and in shallow 

 places, veritable formicine pontoons, — large ants 

 which stood up to their bodies in water, with the 

 booty-laden host passing over them. Now, all 

 had vanished, leaving only a bare expanse of 

 splashing drops and wet clay. The sun broke 

 through and the residue rain tinkled from the 

 bamboos. 



As gradually as the growth of the rainbow 

 above the jungle, the lines reformed themselves. 



