Death of Dr. William Jones. 
American science has suffered an immense 
loss in the recent death of Dr. Wm. Jones at 
the hands of savages in the Philippine Islands. 
Dr. Jones was a quarter blood Fox Indian. 
His mother died when he was a small 
boy and he was reared by his grandmother 
in the Sac and Fox camp. As a boy he was 
sent to Hampton Institute, Va., later prepared 
for college and entered Harvard, whence he 
graduated with credit. He was a member of 
the Hasty Pudding Club and one of the editors 
of the Crimson. Some time after graduation 
he went to New York and took up the study 
of the language of his people at the American 
Museum and with Dr. Franz Boas. He received 
the degree of Ph.D. from Columbia, and for 
some years after that worked on Algonquin 
languages and myths for the Carnegie Institu¬ 
tion, gathering together an immense amount of 
most valuable material. His "Fox Texts” ap¬ 
peared less than a year ago. Dr. Jones was 
more familiar than anyone in the world with 
the Algonquin dialects; and had written much 
about them, and had accumulated much more. 
Some of his works now in press are shortly 
to be issued. 
Something more than two years ago his work 
with the Carnegie Institution ceased. It was 
hoped by many of his friends that he might be 
appointed to the position of philologist of the 
Bureau of American Ethnology, made vacant 
not long before by the death of Dr. Gatschet, 
but to the great astonishment of most of those 
familiar with the situation, the authorities of 
the Bureau declined to fill Dr. Gatschet's place. 
Efforts were made by private persons in New 
York to make arrangements by which Dr. Jones 
might be enabled to continue the work on the 
Algonquin tongues for which he was so wonder¬ 
fully equipped, but the Field Museum of Natural 
History succeeded in securing his services to 
go to the Philippines and study the wild tribes 
there. In this study he had been very success¬ 
ful, and it was expected that he would return 
to the United States next summer. 
Dr. Jones was a man of the highest scientific 
attainments, and was the first living authority 
in his own special field. He possessed a keen 
mind, great enthusiasm for the study of the 
languages and customs of his people, and hav¬ 
ing learned the Sac and Fox language as a 
child, he comprehended it in a way in which no 
white man ever could. He had spent many sea¬ 
sons in the field studying the dialects of the 
Sac and Fox. Kickapoo, Menomini, Chippewa 
and Cree, and, had he lived, he would have 
given to the world a work on the widespread 
Algonquin tongues which would have been as 
nearly complete as any one man could make 
such a work. 
Notwithstanding his great attainments. Dr. 
Jones was a man of singular modesty and was 
always disposed to undervalue his own achieve¬ 
ments. With intimate friends he talked freely 
on the subjects nearest to his heart and showed 
himself one of the most lovable of men. The 
personal loss to his many friends is most deeply 
felt, yet this is nothing compared to the loss 
which the world has suffered in his death. 
A Baitle of Ants. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
It was in the main range of the Rocky Moun¬ 
tains in Montana that I was permitted to wit¬ 
ness one of the most interesting combats it has 
ever been my lot to see. The arena was indeed 
suited to the noblest Roman hero—a hollow 
basin hemmed in by towering snow-clad peaks 
and domed by the clear azure sky of the West¬ 
ern country. 
Having prospected along a creek in this basin 
DR. WM. JONES AND AN INDIAN FRIEND. 
I had thrown myself upon the ground at the 
foot of a balsam to rest. It was not long be¬ 
fore the principals in this tragedy appeared. A 
large black ant came ranging swiftly along, evi¬ 
dently in some state of excitement. The few 
grass stems in the vicinity were hastily explored, 
each twig and bit of decayed wood was thor¬ 
oughly patrolled at a speed that aroused my 
curiosity and assured me that something was 
amiss with the hardy little pioneer. Looking 
slightly in advance of this ant to where a small 
jutting point of granite protruded from the soil 
I espied another ant slightly smaller than the 
first, also ranging about. 
At almost the same instant each ant seemed 
to be apprised of the other’s presence in the 
vicinity. The larger one of the two now ap¬ 
peared utterly beside itself with excitement, 
dashing hither and thither at a tremendous rate 
of speed. The first impulse of the smaller ant 
seemed to be instant flight, but this was imme¬ 
diately rendered impossible by the tactics of its 
larger antagonist. Seemingly divining the in¬ 
tentions of its evident enemy, the larger ant at 
once began a series of rapid circlings about the 
now panic-stricken stranger. These circles were 
gradually contracted until the ants passed al¬ 
most within reach of each other’s antennae. 
Still no hostile move was made on the part of 
either, though both appeared to be much ex¬ 
cited. At length, on one of their tacks, they 
confronted each other and after an instant’s 
maneuvering with their antennae, flew at each 
other like miniature tigers. 
I was fortunate in having my magnifying 
mineral glass in my pocket and instantly 
focused it on the tiny combatants. The larger 
ant appeared to be endeavoring to carry off the 
smaller one and had two of its enemy’s legs 
between its vise-like jaws. The smaller ant 
doubled itself into a ball and endeavored to 
penetrate the vitals of its rival without apparent 
effect. The instant the smaller ant straightened 
itself the larger one started to drag it away 
and then ensued a remarkable tug-of-war, some¬ 
times the larger ant gaining an inch or two and 
then the smaller one regaining the lost ground. 
In this desperate game the smaller combatant 
lost a leg about half way up, retaliating by again 
closing up and fastening to a forward leg of 
its adversary. 
The tiny gladiatofs seemed utterly oblivious 
to my hand and glass held within a few inches 
of them. It would have been utterly impossible 
to separate them without seriously mutilating 
or killing one or both. I must confess I was 
fascinated, and as is usual in such a case my 
sympathies were entirely with the smaller com¬ 
batant. 
After a moment or two of furious fighting 
I perceived that my small champion had suc¬ 
ceeded in nipping off a forward leg of its op¬ 
ponent and was again confining its attack to 
an attempt at biting through its adversary’s 
vitals. The larger ant had evidently given up 
all idea of carrying its enemy away captive. 
Adopting the methods of its antagonist it like¬ 
wise coiled up and got a telling grip on its 
rival’s vitals. The smaller ant had already suc¬ 
ceeded in piercing the hard abdominal armor 
of its antagonist, and although wounded itself 
continued its attack on that portion of the 
enemy’s anatomy, but the more powerful jaws 
of the big ant decided the turn of battle and 
after a few moments the smaller but no less 
courageous warrior expired from its wounds. 
I naturally assumed that the victor, although 
badly wounded, would in all probability carry 
away the body of its late antagonist. Instead, 
the big ant dragged itself seemingly with much 
difficulty to the grass roots, distant four or five 
inches, and there halted. After waiting for 
several minutes to ascertain what the conqueror 
would do and perceiving no movement, I gently 
touched the ant with a twig. It, too, had died. 
I have witnessed several battles between dif¬ 
ferent colonies of ants in which large numbers 
were engaged and killed, and have seen the 
same sort of conflicts carried on in the air by 
rival armies of wasps. This solitary combat of 
two worthy little warriors, fought to the death 
