[1] The Natural History of Ants; by M. P. Huber, &c. Translated from
the French, with Additional Notes, by J. R. Johnson, M.D. F.R.S. &c.
London, 1820.
Natural history is perhaps the most amusing of studies, though not
so useful as botany or chemistry. It is curious to observe, however,
on the score of utility, that the more minute parts of creation are
of infinitely greater importance than the superior creatures in the
scale of animal life. A knowledge of entomology is calculated to
elicit more for the benefit of man, than an acquaintance with the
habits of the larger brutes: the bee, the silk-worm, the cochineal
insect, the Spanish fly, &c. &c. are far more essential to our
purposes than the lion, the elephant, the rhinoceros, or the bear;
even the sheep and the cow, only compete with these insects, as
clothiers and victuallers; and the horse is merely physical force,
subjected to the direction of the higher animal, man.
If we consider further, how very limited our research has yet been
into the micrographick world, we may, without being thought too
speculative, lose ourselves in the idea of the immensity of stores
that remain to be discovered in the merest particles of animated
nature: there is nothing too much to be imagined on the subject.
But our business is rather to disclose the remarkable circumstances
ascertained by the ingenious M. Huber, than to indulge in
theorising; and we therefore proceed to his History of Ants, which
we have found so entertaining, that we have no doubt it will furnish
more than one interesting paper for our work.
The first chapter treats of the architecture of ants. The various
habits of these wonderful insects are amply described; and were
we not assured by ocular examination, of the truth of many of the
particulars, we could hardly extend our belief to the prodigies
related by the author: but we have witnessed so much that we can
credit all. To return to the architecture; we find that their
habitations, their cities, are not the least curious of their
performances. Mr. Huber details the formation of a domicile by the
fallow ants, and adds--
"Our little insects, now in safety in their nest, retire gradually
to the interior before the last passages are closed, one or two only
remain without, or concealed behind the doors on guard, whilst the
rest either take their repose, or engage in different occupations in
the most perfect security.
"I was impatient to know what took place in the morning upon these
ant-hills, and therefore visited them at an early hour. I found them
in the same state in which I had left them the preceding evening.
A few ants were wandering about on the surface of the nest, some
others issued from time to time from under the margin of the little
roofs formed at the entrance of the galleries: others afterwards
came forth who began removing the wooden bars that blockaded the
entrance, in which they readily succeeded. This labour occupied them
several hours. The passages were at length free, and the materials
with which they had been closed scattered here and there over the
ant-hill.
"Every day, morning and evening, during the fine weather, I was a
witness to similar proceedings. On days of rain, the doors of all
the ant-hills remain closed. When the sky is cloudy in the morning,
or rain is indicated, the ants who seem to be aware of it, open but
in part their several avenues, and immediately close them when the
rain commences. It would appear from this they are not insensible of
the motive for which they form these temporary closures.
"To have an idea how the straw or stubble roof is formed, let us
take a view of the ant-hill at its origin, when it is simply
a cavity in the earth. Some of its future inhabitants are seen
wandering about in search of materials fit for the exterior work,
with which, though rather irregularly, they cover up the entrance;
whilst others are employed in mixing the earth, thrown up in
hollowing the interior, with fragments of wood and leaves, which are
every moment brought in by their fellow-assistants; and this gives a
certain consistence to the edifice, which increases in size daily.
Our little architects leave here and there cavities, where they
intend constructing the galleries which are to lead to the exterior;
and as they remove in the morning the barriers placed at the
entrance of their nest the preceding evening, the passages are kept
entire during the whole time of its construction. We soon observe it
to become convex; but we should be greatly deceived did we consider
it solid. This roof is destined to include many apartments or
stories. Having observed the motions of these little masons through
a pane of glass which I adjusted against one of their habitations, I
am enabled to speak with some degree of certainty upon the manner in
which they are constructed."
"I never found, even after long and violent rains, the interior of
the nest wetted to more than a quarter of an inch from the surface,
provided it had not been previously out of repair, or deserted by
its inhabitants."
"The ants are extremely well sheltered in their chambers, the
largest of which is placed nearly in the centre of the building;
it is much loftier than the rest, and traversed only by the beams
that support the ceiling: it is in this spot that all the galleries
terminate, and this forms, for the most part, their usual residence."
"Those ants who lay the foundation of a wall, a chamber, or
gallery, from working separately, occasion now and then a want of
coincidence in the parts of the same or different objects. Such
examples are of no unfrequent occurrence, but they by no means
embarrass them. What follows proves that the workman on discovering
his error, knew how to rectify it.
"A wall had been erected with the view of sustaining a vaulted
ceiling, still incomplete, that had been projected from the wall
of the opposite chamber. The workman who began constructing it,
had given it too little elevation to meet the opposite partition
upon which it was to rest. Had it been continued on the original
plan, it must infallibly have met the wall at about one-half of its
height, and this it was necessary to avoid. This state of things
very forcibly claimed my attention; when one of the ants, arriving
at the place, and visited the works, appeared to be struck by the
difficulty which presented itself; but this it as soon obviated,
by taking down the ceiling and raising the wall upon which it
reposed. It then, in my presence, constructed a new ceiling with the
fragments of the former one.
"When the ants commence any undertaking, one would suppose that
they worked after some preconceived idea, which indeed would seem
verified by the execution. Thus, should any ant discover upon the
nest, two stalks of plants, which lie cross-ways, a disposition
favourable to the construction of a lodge; or some little beams
that may be useful in forming its angles and sides, it examines the
several parts with attention, then distributes with much sagacity
and address parcels of earth, in the spaces, and along the stems,
taking from every quarter materials adapted to its object, sometimes
not caring to destroy the work that others had commenced; so much
are its motions regulated by the idea it has conceived, and upon
which it acts, with little attention to all else around it. It
goes and returns, until the plan is sufficiently understood by its
companions."
"From these observations, and a thousand similar, I am convinced
that each ant acts independently of its companions. The first who
conceives a plan of easy execution, immediately gives the sketch of
it: others have only to continue what this has begun, judging, from
an inspection of the first labours, in what they ought to engage.
They can all lay down plans, and continue to polish or retouch their
work as occasion requires. The water furnishes the cement they
require, and the sun and air hardens the materials of which their
edifice is composed. They have no other chisel than their teeth, no
other compass than their antennæ, and no other trowel than their
fore-feet, of which they make use in an admirable manner, to affix
and consolidate the moistened earth."
We have thus some idea of that masonry which erects the abodes
familiar to every eye, though the execution may not be familiar to
many minds. The second chapter contains an account of the eggs,
larvæ pupæs; and here other marvels are unfolded. In the ants nest
are males whose sole business is to perpetuate the species and die;
females who are waited upon like peeresses in their own right, who
neither toil nor spin, but are served by neutrals, labourers, who
tend their innumerable eggs, nourish and unfold the larvæ, and in
short, do all the duties of mothers, nurses, and menials. The author
devised means to observe their internal economy; and he says--
"Let us now open the shutter which conceals from us the interior of
the ant hill, and let us see what is passing there.
"Here the pupæ are heaped up by hundreds in their spacious lodges;
there the larvæ are collected together, and guarded by workers.
In one place, we observe an assemblage of eggs, in another place,
some of the workers seem occupied in following an ant of larger
size than the rest;--this is the mother, or at least one of the
females, for there are always several in each ant-hill:--she lays
as she walks, and the guardians, by whom she is surrounded, take
up her eggs, or seize them at the very moment of her laying them;
they collect them together, and carry them in little heaps in their
mouths.[2] On looking a little closer, we find that they turn them
continually with their tongues; it even appears, they pass them one
after the other between their teeth, and thus keep them constantly
moistened. Such is the first _apercu_ which my glazed aparatus
offered.
[2] The eggs of ants are so remarkably minute, that there would seem
an absolute necessity of their being held together by some glutinous
matter, otherwise, it would render the removal of such small bodies
in the mandibles of ants almost impossible; the mandibles being so
constituted as not to be brought into that close contact necessary
for this operation.--T.
"Having directed my close attention to these eggs, I remarked they
were of different sizes, shades and forms. The smallest were white,
opake, and cylindrical; the largest, transparent, and slightly
arched at both ends; those of a middle were semi-transparent. In
holding them up to the light, I observed a sort of white oblong
cloud; in some, a transparent point might be remarked at the
superior extremity; in others, a clear zone above and underneath
the little cloud. The largest presented a single opake and whitish
point in their interior. There were some whose whole body was so
remarkably clear as to allow of my observing very distinctly the
rings. In fixing my attention more closely upon the latter, I
observed the egg open, and the larva appear in its place."
"I have been enabled to observe through the glasses of my artificial
ant-hill, the great care taken of these little worms, which bear
also the name of Larvæ. They were generally guarded by a body of
ants, who, raised upon their feet, with their abdomen brought
between these members, were prepared to cast their venom upon all
intruders, whilst here and there, other workers were engaged in
clearing the passages, by removing the materials which were out of
place: a great number of their companions taking at the same time
their repose, and appearing to be fast asleep: but a busy scene
occurred at the moment of transporting their little ones to enjoy
the warmth of the sun. When the sun's rays fell upon the exterior
portion of the nest, the ants, who were then on the surface,
descended with great rapidity to the bottom of the ant-hill, struck
with their antennæ the other ants, ran one after the other, and
jostled their companions, who mounted at the moment under the bell
glass, and redescended with the same speed, putting in their turn
the whole colony in motion, so that we could observe a swarm of
workers, filling up all the passages; but what proved still more
their intention by these movements, was, the violence with which the
workers sometimes seized, with their mandibles, those who did not
appear to understand them, dragging them forth to the top of the
ant-hill, and immediately leaving them, to go and seek those still
remaining with the young.
"As soon as the ants had intimation of the appearance of the sun,
they occupied themselves with the larvæ and pupæ; they carried them
with all expedition above the ant-hill, where they left them exposed
to the influence of the heat. Their ardour suffered no relaxation;
the female larvæ (which are heavier, and much larger than those of
the other cast) were carried passages, leading from the interior to
the exterior of the ant-hill, and placed in the sun, by the side of
those of the workers and males. After remaining there a quarter of
an hour, the ants again took them up, and sheltered them from the
direct rays of the sun, by placing them in chambers, situated under
a layer of straw, which did not entirely intercept the heat.
The workers, after having fulfilled the duties imposed upon them
in regard to the larvæ, did not forget themselves; they sought, in
their turn, to stretch themselves in the sun, lay upon each other
in heaps, and seemed to enjoy some repose, but it was of no long
duration. I observed a great number constantly employed on the
surface of the ant-hill, and others engaged in carrying back the
larvæ, in proportion as the sun declined. The moment of nourishing
them being at length arrived, each ant approached a larva, and
offered it food. "The larvæ of ants," observes M. Latreille,
"resemble, when they quit the egg, little white worms destitute
of feet, thick short, and in form almost conical; their body is
composed of twelve rings: the anterior part is slender and curved.
We remark at the head two little horny pieces or hooks, too distant
from each other to be regarded as true teeth; under these hooks
we observe four little points or _cils_, two on each side, and a
_mamelon_, or tubercular process, almost cylindrical, soft, and
retractile, by which the larva receives its food."