WITH ARMY ANTS ^IS 



only amusing. But the sudden leap of a bull- 

 dog or tarantula, and the corresponding vicious 

 attack of these ants, is particularly appalling. I 

 saw a soldier leap a full inch and a half toward 

 the landing thud of the frog and bite and sting 

 at the instant of contact. I did not dare go into 

 the pit. No warm-blooded creature could have 

 stood the torture for more than a few seconds. 

 So I opened my umbrella and reaching down, 

 scooped up the sand-colored frog. A half-dozen 

 ants came up in the same instrument, but I 

 evaded them and tied up the tormented batrach- 

 ian in my handkerchief. 



My next glance into the pit showed a large 

 toad, squatted on a small shelf of sand, close 

 to the edge of a crowded column of ants. He 

 was a rough old chap, covered with warts and 

 corrugations, and pigmented in dark gray, with 

 mottlings of chocolate and dull red and occa- 

 sional glints of gold. He was crouched flat, with 

 all his fingers and toes tucked in beneath him. 

 His head was drawn in, his eyes closed, and all 

 his exposed surface was sticky with his acid per- 

 spiration — the sweat of fear. He knew his 

 danger — of that there was no doubt — and he 

 was apparently aware of the fact that he could 



