PERFECT SOCIETIES OF INSECTS. 327 



M. P. Huber is the only modern author that appears to have been witness 

 to these combats. He tells us that, when the great attack the small, they 

 seek to take them by surprise (probably to avoid their fastening themselves 

 to their legs), and seizing upon them by the upper part of the body, 

 they strangle them with their mandibles ; but when the small have time 

 to foresee the attack, they give notice to their companions, who rush in 

 crowds to their succour. Sometimes, however, after suffering a signal 

 defeat, the smaller species are obliged to shift their quarters, and to seek 

 an establishment more out of the way of danger. In order to cover their 

 march, many small bodies are then posted at a little distance from the nest. 

 As soon as the large ants approach the camp, the foremost sentinels in- 

 stantly fly at them with the greatest rage ; a violent struggle ensues ; mul- 

 titudes of their friends come to their assistance; and, though no match 

 for their enemies singly, by dint of numbers they prevail, and the giant is 

 either slain or led captive to the hostile camp. The species whose pro- 

 ceedings M. Huber observed were F. herculanea and F. sanguined, neither 

 of which have yet been discovered in Britain. 1 



But if you would see more numerous armies engaged, and survey war in 

 all its forms, you must witness the combats of ants of the same species ; 

 you must go into the woods where the hill-ant of Gould (F. rufa) erects 

 its habitations. There you will sometimes behold populous and rival 

 cities, like Rome and Carthage, as if they had vowed each other's destruc- 

 tion, pouring forth their myriads by the various roads that, like rays, 

 diverge on all sides from their respective metropolises, to decide by an 

 appeal to arms the fate of their little world. As the exploits of frogs and 

 mice were the theme of Homer's muse, so, were I gifted like him, might 

 I celebrate on this occasion the exhibition of Myrmidonian valour ; but, 

 alas ! I am Davus, not (Edipus ; you must, therefore, rest contented, if I 

 do my best in plain prose ; and I trust you will not complain if, being 

 unable to ascertain the name of any one of my heroes, my Myrmidonomachia 

 be perfectly anonymous. 



Figure to yourself two of these cities equal in size and population, and 

 situated about a hundred paces from each other ; observe their count- 

 less numbers, equal to the population of two mighty empires. The whole 

 space which separates them for the breadth of twenty-four inches ap- 

 pears alive with prodigious crowds of their inhabitants. The armies 

 meet midway between their respective habitations, and there join battle. 

 Thousands of champions, mounted on more elevated spots, engage in single 

 combat, and seize each other with their powerful jaws ; a still greater 

 number are engaged on both sides in taking prisoners, which make vain 

 efforts to escape, as if conscious of the cruel fate which awaits them when 

 arrived at the hostile formicary. The spot where the battle most rages" 

 is about two or three square feet in dimensions : a penetrating odour ex- 

 hales on all sides, numbers of ants are here lying dead covered with 

 venom, others, composing groups and chains, are hooked together by 

 their legs or jaws, and drag each other alternately in contrary directions. 

 These groups are formed gradually. At first a pair of combatants seize 

 each other, and rearing upon their hind legs mutually spirt their acid ; 

 then closing, they fall and wrestle in the dust. Again recovering their 

 feet, each endeavours to drag off his antagonist. If their strength be 



1 Huber, 160. 

 Y 4 



