146 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS. 



posed of a series of stories, often reaching thirty or forty in num- 

 ber, and generally being built in a sloping direction. These sto- 

 ries are not composed of regular cells, like those of the bee, wasp, 

 and hornet, but of chambers and galleries of very irregular form 

 and dimensions, beautifully smoothed in the interior, and about 

 one fifth of an inch in height. The walls are about the twenty- 

 fourth of an inch in thickness. The object of so many stories is 

 to be able to regulate the heat and moisture of their establish- 

 ments. If, for example, the sun is not very powerful, and the in- 

 stinct of the little insects tells them that more heat is required in 

 order to hatch the pupae which are undergoing their metamorpho- 

 sis, they take up the white burdens and carry them into the up- 

 per chambers, where the heat is greater than below. 



Again, if there should be a heavy rain, which floods all the low- 

 er stories, nothing is easier for the inhabitants than to remove 

 themselves and brood into the upper sets of chambers, where they 

 will be secure from the inundation. On those days when the sun 

 is peculiarly hot, the ants secure a more equable temperature, by 

 removing the young brood to the central flats, if they can be so 

 called, while they themselves can obtain the needful moisture 

 from the lower parts of the nest, to which the sunbeams can not 

 penetrate. Were it not for this provision which they instinct- 

 ively make, all building operations would be stopped during a 

 drought, whereas, by descending to the cellars or crypts of the 

 mansion, the ants can obtain sufficient clay for ordinary work. 



In order to watch the ants closer, Huber constructed a kind of 

 vivarium in which they could work, and supplied them with earth, 

 sand, and other necessaries. As, in this artificial state of existence, 

 the insects could not procure moisture from the depths of the 

 earth, moisture from other sources was necessary. Whenever the 

 insects had ceased to work, they could almost always be induced 

 to renew their labors by dipping a stiff brush in water, and strik- 

 ing the hand upon it in such a manner that the water descended 

 like very fine rain upon the earth. As soon as the formerly qui- 

 escent ants felt the grateful shower, they regained their activity, 

 ran about with renewed energy, and set to work upon the soil, 

 moulding it into little pellets, and testing each tiny ball with their 

 antennas before they applied it to the purposes for which it was 

 made. 



While some of the ants were engaged in this task, which must 

 be considered analogous to brickmaking as practiced by mankind, 



