190 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 



The queen rests. Henceforth, as far as we 

 know, she becomes a mere egg-producing ma- 

 chine, fed mechanically by mechanical workers, 

 the food transformed by physiological mechan- 

 ics into yolk and then deposited. The aeroplane 

 has become transformed into an incubator. 



One wonders whether, throughout the long 

 hours, weeks and months, in darkness which ren- 

 der* her eyes a mockery, there ever comes to her 

 dull ganglion a flash of memory of The Day, of 

 the rushing wind, the escape from pursuing puff- 

 birds, the jungle stretching away for miles be- 

 neath, her mate, the cool tap of drops from a 

 passing shower, the volplane to earth, and the 

 obliteration of all save labor. Did she once look 

 behind her, did she turn aside for a second, just 

 to feel the cool silk of petals? 



As we have seen, an Atta worker is a mem- 

 ber of the most implacable labor-union in the 

 world : he believes in a twenty-four hour day, no 

 pay, no play, no rest he is a cog in a machine- 

 driven Good-for-the-greatest-number. After 

 studying these beings for a week, one longs to 

 go out and shout for kaisers and tsars, for self- 

 ishness and crime anything as a relief from such 

 terrible unthinking altruism. All Atta workers 



