THE YOUNG NATURALIST. 
HERE are other armies in South 
Africa besides the Boers and 
the British; armies of very little 
folk, which go out on foraging 
expeditions when their colonies stand 
in need of supplies—forays planned 
and executed with military precision, 
and, as a general thing, uniformly suc- 
cessful. 
I speak of an army of ants. 
A close observer, residing in South 
Africa, describes one of these forays 
in the following way: 
“The army, which I estimated to 
number about fifteen thousand ants, 
Started from their home in the mud 
walls of a hut and marched in the 
direction of a small mound of fresh 
earth, but a few yards distant. The 
head of the column halted on reaching 
the foot of the mound and waited for 
the rest of the force to arrive at the 
place of operations, which evidently 
was to be the mound of fresh earth. 
When the remainder had arrived and 
halted so that the entire army was as- 
sembled, a number of ants detached 
themselves from the main body and 
began to ascend to the top of the 
mound, while the others began mov- 
ing so as to encircle the base of the 
mound. 
“Very soon a number from the de- 
tachment which had ascended the 
mound, or lilliputian kopje, evidently 
the attacking party, entered the loose 
earth and speedily returned, each bear- 
ing acricket or a young grasshopper, 
dead, which he deposited upon the 
ground and then returned for a fresh 
load. Those who had remained on 
the outside of the mound, took up the 
crickets and grasshoppers as they were 
brought out and bore them down to 
the base of the hill, returning at once 
for fresh victims. Soon the contents 
of the mound seemed to be exhausted, 
and then the whole force returned 
home, each ant carrying his burden of 
food for the community.” 
My very young readers will be sur- 
prised, no doubt, to hear me speak of 
wasps as cement-makers, or paper- 
makers, but such, in truth, they are. 
You can form no idea of the industry 
and toil these little folk expend upon 
the structure they call home. Noth- 
ing pleases them better than to findan 
old fence rail coveredwith a light gray 
fuzz of woody fiber loosened from de- 
caying wood by excessive soakings of 
rain. Dozens of these little pulp- 
gatherers will descend upon the rail, 
and as fast as each of them obtains a 
load away he flies to the place where 
the home building is already going on. 
This may be in a clump of bushes 
near a stream, and as fast as they de- 
posit their load of fiber down they fly 
to the stream, and having secured a 
mouthful of water back they go to the 
nest to beat the fiber into a thin sheet, 
which they deftly join to the main 
body, the jointure being imperceptible. 
Such a throng of workers coming and 
going, some to the fence, some to the 
nest, some to the brock, each addition 
to the structure being the tiniest mite, 
yet growing perceptibly under the 
united efforts of the little builders. 
TAR.—One of the commonest sub- 
stances met with in city or town is tar. 
A paper roof covered with tar makes a 
very good protection against sun and 
rain provided a suitable amount of 
gravel covers the tar. The kind of tar 
most used is called coal-tar or gas-tar. 
This is made at the gas factory from 
the distilling of soft coal. Tar that 
comes from different varieties of pine 
and spruce is used to cover ropes and 
hulls of ships. It is from his having 
-some of it usually clinging to his hands 
185 
and clothes that the sailor boy came to 
be called “Jack Tar,” and from his 
fondness for the sea one of the royal 
family of England got the pet name 
of “Royal Tarry Breeks.”’ It is strange 
that there has been no change in the 
work of getting this kind of tar from 
the wood for over twenty-three hundred 
years. The wood is placed in holes 
dug in the ground and covered carefully 
with turf so as to keep out the air and 
prevent too much burning. Some of 
the wood is left free so the air may get 
at it and burn it enough to make heat 
enough to distil the pitch from the rest 
