14 Wild Life in a Southern County. 
labyrinthine involutions of the path? It is never 
possible to see far in front—half the time not twice 
its own length; often and often it is necessary to re- 
trace the trail and strike out a fresh one—a step that 
would confuse most persons even in an English wood 
with which they were unacquainted. 
Yet by some power of observation, perhaps 
‘superior in this respect to the abilities of greater 
creatures, the tiny thing guides its footsteps without 
faltering down yonder to the nest in the hollow on 
the bank of the ploughed field. I say by observation, 
and the exercise of faculties resembling those of the 
mind, because I have many times tried the supposed 
unerring instinct of the ant, and found it fail: there- 
fore it must possess a power of correcting error which 
is the prerogative of reason. Ants cannot, under cer- 
tain conditions, distinguish their own special haunts, 
Across a garden path I frequented there was the 
track of innumerable ants ; their ceaseless journey- 
ings had worn a visible path leading from the border 
on one side to the border on the other, where was 
a tiny hole, into which they each disappeared in 
turn. Happily, the garden was neglected, otherwise 
the besom of the gardener would have swept away 
all traces of the highway they had made. Watching 
the stream of life pouring swiftly along the track, it 
seemed to me that, like men walking hurriedly in 
well-known streets, they took no note of marks or 
