A JUNGLE LABOR-UNION 157, 
about him is furnished by this same head: two 
huge, flail-shaped attenne arching up like aerial, 
detached eyebrows—vehicles, through _ their 
golden pile, of senses which foil our most delicate 
tests. Outside of these are two little shoe-button 
eyes; and we are not certain whether they reflect 
to the head ganglion two or three hundred bits 
of leaf, or one large mosaic leaf. Below all is 
swung the pair of great scythes, so edged and 
hung that they can function as jaws, rip-saws, 
scissors, forceps, and clamps. The thorax, like 
the head of a titanothere, bears three pairs of 
horns—a great irregular expanse of tumbled, 
rock-like skin and thorn, a foundation for three 
pairs of long legs, and sheltering somewhere in 
its heart a thread of ant-life; finally, two little 
pedicels lead to a rounded abdomen, smaller than 
the head. This Third-of-an-inch is a worker 
Atta to the physical eye; and if we catch another, 
or ten, or ten million, we find that some are small, 
others much larger, but that all are cast in the 
same mold, all indistinguishable except, perhaps, 
to the shoe-button eyes. 
When a worker has traveled along the Atta 
trails, and has followed the temporary mob-in- 
_ stinct and climbed bush or tree, the same irresist- 
