THE ATTAS AT HOME 187 



I selected one large queen as she appeared and 

 watched her closely. Slowly and with great ef- 

 fort she climbed the steep ascent into the blazing 

 sunlight. Five tiny Minims were clinging to her 

 body and wings, all scrubbing and cleaning as 

 hard as they could. She chose a clear space, 

 spread her wings, wide and flat, stood high upon 

 her six legs and waited. I fairly shouted at this 

 change, for sliglit though it was, it worked magic, 

 and the queen Atta was a queen no more, but 

 a miniature, straddle-legged aeroplane, pushed 

 into position, and overrun by a crowd of mechan- 

 ics, putting the finishing touches, tightening the 

 wires, oiling every pliable crevice. A ^ledium 

 came along, tugged at a leg and the obliging 

 little plane lifted it for inspection. For three 

 minutes this kept up, and then the plane became 

 a queen and moved restlessly. Without warn- 

 ing, as if some irresponsible mechanic had turned 

 the primed propellers, the four mighty wings 

 whirred — and four Minims were hurled head over 

 heels a foot away, snapped from their positions. 

 The sound of the wings was almost too exact 

 an imitation of the snarl of a starting plane — 

 the comparison was absurd in its exactness of 

 timbre and resonance. It was only a test, how- 



