28 j 
NATURAL HISTORY. 
The lion-ant, in its reptile state, is of the size of a common 
wood-louse, but somewhat broader It has a pretty long 
head, and a roundish body, which becomes a little narrower 
towards the tail. The colour is a dirty grey, speckled with 
black, and the body is composed of several Hat rings, which 
slip one upon another. It has six feet, four of which are 
fixed to the breast, and two to the neck. The head is small 
and flat, and before there are two little smooth horns and 
feelers, which are hard, about a quarter of an inch long, and 
crooked at the ends. At the basis of the feelers there are 
two small black lively eyes, by which it can See the smallest 
object, as is easily discovered by its starting from every thing 
that approaches. 
To a form so unpromising, and so ill provided for the 
purposes of rapacity, this animal unites the most ravenous 
appetites in nature ; but to mark its imbecility still stronger, 
as other animals have wings or feet to enable them to ad- 
vance towards their prey, the lion-ant is unprovided with 
such assistance from either. It has legs, indeed ; but these 
only enable it to run backward, so that it coidd as soon die 
as make the smallest progressive motion. Thus, famished 
and rapacious as it ever seems, its prey must come to it, or 
rather into the snare provided lor it, or the insidious assassin 
must starve. 
But Nature, that has denied it strength or swiftness, has 
given it an equivalent in cunning, so that no animal tares 
more sumptuously, without ever stirring from its retreat. 
For this purpose it chooses a dry sandy place, at the foot of 
a wall, or under some shelter, in order to preserve its machi- 
nations from the rain. The driest and most sandy spot is the 
most proper for it; because a heavy clogged earth would 
defeat its labour. When it goes about to dig the hole where 
it takes its prey, it begins to bend the hinder part of ns 
body, which is pointed, and thus works backward: making, 
after several attempts, a circular furrow, which serves to 
mark out the size of the hole it intends making, as the an- 
cients marked out thelimits of acity with a plough Within 
this first furrow it digs a second, then a third, and atter- 
wards others, which are always less than the preceding. 
Then it begins to deepen its hole, sinking lower and lower 
into the sand, which it throws with its horns, or feelers, 
towards the edges, as we see men throw up sand in a gravel 
pit. Thus, by repeating its labours all around, the sand is 
thrown up in a circle about the edge of the pit, until the 
hole is quite completed. This hole is always formed in a 
