A YARD OF JUNGLE 259 



to fifteen members. All others were isolated, 

 scattered. Life here, so far beneath the sun- 

 light, is an individual thing. Flocks and herds 

 are unknown; the mob has no place here. Each 

 tiny organism must live its life and meet its 

 fate single-handed. 



Little pseudo-scorpions were very abundant, 

 and I could have vialed hundreds. They rushed 

 out excitedly and, unlike all the other little 

 beings, did not seek to hide. Instead, when they 

 were disturbed, they sought open spaces, walk- 

 ing slowly and brandishing and feeling ahead 

 with their great pincer-tipped arms, as long as 

 their entire body. When irritated or frightened, 

 they scurried backwards, holding up their chelas 

 in readiness. 



Mites were the most abundant creatures, 

 equaling the ants in number, always crawling 

 slowly along, tumbling over every obstacle in 

 their path and feeling their way awkwardly. 

 Their kinds were numerous, all villainous in ap- 

 pearance. Ticks were less common but equally 

 repellant. Small spiders and beetles were occa- 

 sionally found, and hundred-legged wrigglers 

 fled to shelter at every turn of a leaf. The 

 smallest snails in the world crawled slowly about, 



