38 A NATURALIST IN HIMALAYA 



nest, tlicy lay down their burdens, drag away the 

 obstruction, and when the opening is cleared, again 

 take u[) their loads and continue their journey. 



Instinct, even of the sternest kind, may often err. 

 It is not unusual to witness harvesters storing useless 

 materials in their nest. And I think they sometimes 

 do this against the better judgment of other workers. 

 For on one occasion I saw a harvester dragging along 

 a stone, and though it was forcibly compelled by 

 another worker to drop its useless burden, yet it again 

 returned to the stone and persisted in lodging it safely 

 in the nest. 



Instinct may lead them astray, if some of their own 

 community are injured and then placed near the 

 opening of the nest. I have often made this experi- 

 ment, and observed with astonishment the signs of 

 hostility and resentment that the ants show to their 

 injured comrades. They look on their wounded 

 sisters not as companions in distress, but rather as 

 enemies. They rush on them with every sign of 

 anger. This seems a curious case of aberration of 

 instinct. The ants instinctively recognize that the 

 presence of an injured companion must necessarily 

 imply the proximity of some enemy to cause the 

 injury, and, when they are unable to detect the enemy, 

 they vent their hostile feeling on their dead and 

 wounded comrades. Even after some of their number 

 have taken on themselves the duties of burial, others 

 will sometimes follow the body a short distance to the 

 grave, not for the purpose of paying their last respects 

 to a dead comrade, but, by continually snapping at the 

 corpse, to mark their hatred and resentment at what 

 they falsely believe to be an enemy. 



