A JUNGLE LABOR-UNION 161 
which had a regular shepherd’s crook at the top, 
and if his adventures of fifty feet could have been 
caught on a moving-picture film, Charlie Chap- 
lin would have had an arthropod rival. It hooked 
on stems and pulled its bearer off his feet, it ca- 
reened and ensnared the leaves of other ants, at 
one place mixing up with half a dozen. A big 
thistledown became tangled in it, and well-nigh 
blew away with leaf and all; hardly a foot of his 
path was smooth-going. But he persisted, and I 
watched him reach the nest, after two hours of 
tugging and falling and interference with traffic. 
Occasionally an ant will slip in crossing a 
twiggy crevasse, and his leaf become tightly 
wedged. After sprawling on his back and vainly 
clawing at the air for a while, he gets up, brushes 
off his antennz, and sets to work. For fifteen 
minutes I have watched an Atta in this predica- 
ment, stodgily endeavoring to lift his leaf while 
standing on it at the same time. The equation 
of push equaling pull is fourth dimensional to 
the Attas. 
With all this terrible expenditure of energy, 
the activities of these ants are functional within 
very narrow limits. The blazing sun causes them 
to drop their burdens and flee for home; a heavy 
