86 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 



to gather this little dust, as if their very lives 

 depended upon it. 



With my hand-lens focused just beyond man- 

 dible reach of the biggest soldier, I leaned for- 

 ward from my insulated chair, hovering like a 

 great astral eye looking down at this marvelously 

 important business of little lives. Here were 

 thousands of army ants, not killing, not carrying 

 booty, nor even suspended quiescent as organic 

 molecules in the structure of the home, yet in 

 feverish activity equaled only by battle, making 

 ready for the great change of their foster off- 

 spring. I watched the very first thread of silk 

 drawn between the larva and the outside world, 

 and in an incredibly short time the cocoon was 

 outlined in a tissue-thin, transparent aura, within 

 which the tenant could be seen skilfully weaving 

 its own shroud. 



When first brought from the nest, the larvge 

 lay quite straight and still; but almost at once 

 they bent far over in the spinning position. Then 

 some officious worker would come along, and 

 the unfortunate larva would be snatched up, car- 

 ried off, and jammed down in some neighboring 

 empty space, like a bolt of cloth rearranged upon 

 a shelf. Then another ant would approach, an- 



