THE ARMY ANTS’ HOME TOWN _ 69 
amateur record for speed of army ants is equiva- 
lent to a mile in two hours and fifty-six seconds; 
and this when handicapped by gravity and bur- 
dens of food, but with the incentive of approach- 
ing the end of their long journey. 
As once before, I accidentally disabled a big 
worker that I was robbing of his load, and his 
entire abdomen rolled down a slope and disap- 
peared. Hours later in the afternoon, I was sum- 
moned to view the same soldier, unconcernedly 
making his way along an outward-bound column, 
guarding it as carefully as if he had not lost the 
major part of his anatomy. His mandibles were 
ready, and the only difference that I could see 
was that he could make better speed than others 
of his caste. That night he joined the general 
assemblage of cripples quietly awaiting death, 
halfway up to the nest. 
I know of no highway in the world which sur- 
passes that of a big column of army ants in ex- 
citing happenings, although I usually had the 
feeling which inspired Kim as he watched the 
Great White Road, of understanding so little 
of all that was going on. Early in the morn- 
ing there were only outgoing hosts; but soon 
eddies were seen in the swift current, vortexes 
