﻿138 
  

  

  THE 
  NATIONAL 
  GEOGRAPHIC 
  MAGAZINE 
  

  

  Photograph 
  by 
  David 
  Fairchild 
  

   WHICH 
  WAY 
  IS 
  THE 
  BUTTERFLY 
  GOING? 
  

  

  If 
  a 
  bird 
  sees 
  it 
  sitting 
  on 
  a 
  branch, 
  does 
  the 
  appearance 
  of 
  doubleheadedness 
  deceive? 
  

   And 
  did 
  the 
  ancestors 
  of 
  this 
  butterfly 
  increase 
  their 
  chances 
  of 
  survival 
  in 
  the 
  struggle 
  for 
  

   existence 
  by 
  their 
  strange 
  appearance, 
  or 
  is 
  it 
  just 
  a 
  coincidence? 
  These 
  questions 
  are 
  hard 
  

   to 
  decide 
  experimentally. 
  

  

  that 
  tiny 
  creature 
  a 
  very 
  different 
  thing 
  

   from 
  the 
  insect 
  creatures 
  of 
  instinct 
  at 
  

   our 
  feet, 
  whose 
  perfect 
  organization 
  is 
  

   enough 
  to 
  ''strike 
  terror 
  to 
  the 
  heart 
  of 
  

   any 
  individualist." 
  

  

  ANTS 
  THAT 
  CULTIVATE 
  MUSHROOMS 
  FOR 
  

   THEIR 
  YOUNG 
  

  

  There 
  are 
  many 
  differences, 
  botanical 
  

   and 
  zoological, 
  between 
  the 
  forests 
  on 
  the 
  

   Chagres 
  and 
  the 
  rain 
  forests 
  of 
  the 
  Malay 
  

   Archipelago; 
  but 
  to 
  me 
  the 
  most 
  striking 
  

   was 
  right 
  beneath 
  my 
  feet 
  — 
  the 
  beaten 
  

   trails 
  of 
  the 
  atlas, 
  the 
  leaf-cutting, 
  mush- 
  

   room-growing 
  ants. 
  There 
  are 
  none 
  of 
  

   these 
  trails 
  in 
  the 
  oriental 
  jungle, 
  for 
  the 
  

   atta 
  does 
  not 
  inhabit 
  them. 
  There 
  is 
  a 
  

   mushroom-growing 
  insect 
  in 
  the 
  East, 
  a 
  

   species 
  of 
  termite, 
  or 
  so-called 
  white 
  ant, 
  

   which 
  is 
  not 
  an 
  ant 
  at 
  all 
  ; 
  but 
  the 
  termites 
  

   build 
  covered 
  mud 
  runways 
  and 
  not 
  open 
  

   well-kept 
  highways 
  like 
  these 
  of 
  the 
  attas. 
  

  

  1 
  wanted 
  most 
  of 
  all, 
  in 
  coming 
  to 
  the 
  

   Chagres, 
  to 
  have 
  two 
  experiences: 
  I 
  

   wanted 
  to 
  see 
  a 
  real 
  boa-constrictor 
  — 
  see 
  

   its 
  long, 
  trunk-like 
  body 
  move 
  swiftly 
  

  

  across 
  the 
  trail 
  and 
  watch 
  it 
  disappear 
  

   among 
  the 
  trees, 
  or 
  look 
  up 
  into 
  some 
  

   tree-top 
  and 
  see 
  its 
  long, 
  narrow 
  head 
  

   and 
  the 
  coils 
  of 
  its 
  scaly 
  body 
  far 
  above 
  

   me 
  in 
  the 
  forest 
  — 
  and 
  I 
  wanted 
  to 
  see 
  

   the 
  mushroom 
  gardens 
  of 
  the 
  attas. 
  

  

  The 
  boa-constrictor 
  is 
  fast 
  becoming 
  a 
  

   rare 
  animal 
  on 
  the 
  Chagres, 
  and 
  I 
  did 
  

   not 
  see 
  one; 
  but 
  I 
  did 
  have 
  the 
  pleasure 
  

   of 
  digging 
  out 
  an 
  atta 
  mushroom 
  garden. 
  

  

  One 
  may 
  have 
  watched 
  an 
  atta 
  under 
  a 
  

   lens 
  and 
  have 
  seen 
  it 
  deliberately 
  scissor 
  

   out 
  a 
  circular 
  disk 
  of 
  green 
  leaf, 
  throw 
  

   it 
  over 
  its 
  head, 
  and 
  hurry 
  down 
  the 
  leafy 
  

   twig 
  to 
  the 
  tree 
  trunk 
  or 
  down 
  to 
  the 
  

   ground, 
  and 
  then 
  away, 
  at 
  the 
  rate 
  of 
  two 
  

   yards 
  or 
  so 
  a 
  minute, 
  over 
  a 
  beaten 
  high- 
  

   way 
  as 
  clear 
  of 
  leaves 
  as 
  a 
  swept 
  pave- 
  

   ment 
  and, 
  compared 
  with 
  the 
  size 
  of 
  the 
  

   atta, 
  as 
  wide 
  as 
  a 
  city 
  street. 
  

  

  One 
  may 
  have 
  watched 
  it 
  disappear 
  

   into 
  its 
  hole 
  in 
  the 
  ground, 
  but 
  until 
  he 
  

   has 
  actually 
  dug 
  clown 
  deep 
  into 
  the 
  stiff 
  

   clay 
  and 
  found 
  there, 
  in 
  subterranean 
  

   caves, 
  the 
  mushroom 
  beds 
  of 
  these 
  crea- 
  

   tures, 
  he 
  can 
  scarcely 
  realize 
  the 
  full 
  

  

  