CHAPTER V.

TERMITES.

THE habits of the Termites, or so-called White Ants, have not been so

closely studied as they deserve. Our chief knowledge concerning them is

derived from the observations of Jobson, in his 'History of Gambia;'

Bastian, in 'The Nations of Eastern Asia;' Forsteal, Lespès, König,

Sparman, Hugen, Quatrefages, Fritz Müller, and most of all, Smeathman,

in 'Philosophical Transactions,' vol. lxxi. In Africa these insects

raise their hills to a height of between ten and twenty feet, and

construct them of earth, stones, pieces of wood, &c., glued together by

a sticky saliva. The hills are in the form of a cone, and so strong that

it is said the buffaloes are in the habit of using them as watch-towers

on which to post sentries, and that they will even support the weight of

an elephant. The growth of these gigantic mounds is gradual, increasing

with the increase of the population. From the mound in all directions

there radiate subterranean tunnels, which may be as much as a foot in

width, and which serve as roadways. Besides these tunnels there are a

number of other subterranean tubes, which serve the purpose of drainage

to carry off the floods of water to which the nest is exposed during

tropical showers. Büchner calculates that a pyramid built by man on a

scale proportional to his size would only equal one of these nests if it

attained to the height of 3,000 feet. The following is this author's

description of the internal structure:--

These internal arrangements are so various and so

complicated that pages of description might be written

thereupon. There are myriads of rooms, cells,

nurseries, provision chambers, guard-rooms, passages,

corridors, vaults, bridges, subterranean streets and

canals, tunnels, arched ways, steps, smooth inclines,

domes, &c., &c., all arranged on a definite, coherent,

and well-considered plan. In the middle of the

building, sheltered as far as possible from outside

dangers, lies the stately royal dwelling, resembling

an arched oven, in which the royal pair reside, or

rather are imprisoned; for the entrances and outlets

are so small, that although the workers on service can

pass easily in and out, the queen cannot; for during

the egg-laying her body swells out to an enormous

size, two or three thousand times the size and weight

of an ordinary worker. The queen, therefore, never

leaves her dwelling, and dies therein. Round the

palace, which is at first small, but is later enlarged

in proportion as the queen increases in size until it

is at least a yard long and half a yard high, lie the

nurseries, or cells for the eggs and larvæ; next these

the servants' rooms, or cells for the workers which

wait on the queen; then special chambers for the

soldiers on guard, and, between these, numerous

store-rooms, filled with gums, resins, dried

plant-juices, meal, seeds, fruits, worked-up wood, &c.

According to Bettziech-Beta, there is always in the

midst of the nest a large common room, which is used

either for popular assemblies or as the meeting and

starting point of the countless passages and chambers

of the nest. Others are of the opinion that this space

serves for purposes of ventilation.

Above and below the royal cell are the rooms of the

workers and soldiers which are specially charged with

the care and defence of the royal pair. They

communicate with each other, as well as with the

nursery-cells and store-rooms, by means of galleries

and passages which, as already said, open into the

common room in the middle under the dome. This room is

surrounded by high, boldly projected arched ways,

which lose themselves further out in the walls of the

countless rooms and galleries. Many roofs outside and

in protect this room and the surrounding chambers from

rain, which, as already said, is drained away by

countless subterranean canals, made of clay and of a

diameter of ten or twelve centimetres. There are also,

under the layer of clay covering the whole building,

broad spirally winding passages running from below to

the highest points, which communicate with the

passages of the interior, and apparently, as they

mainly consist of smooth inclines, serve for carrying

provisions to the higher parts of the nest.[71]

The termites, like many species of true ants, are divided into two

distinct castes, the workers and the soldiers. If a breach is made in

the walls of the dome the soldiers rush out to meet the enemy, and fight

desperately with any enemy that they may find. Here, again, I cannot do

better than quote Büchner's epitome of facts:--

If the assailant withdraws beyond their reach and

inflicts no further injury, they retire within their

dwelling in the course of half an hour, as though they

had come to the conclusion that the enemy who had done

the mischief had fled. Scarcely have the soldiers

disappeared when crowds of workers appear in the

breach, each with a quantity of ready-made mortar in

its mouth. As soon as they arrive they stick this

mortar round the open place, and direct the whole

operation with such swiftness and facility that in

spite of their great number they never hinder each

other, nor are obliged to stop. During this spectacle

of apparent restlessness and confusion the observer is

agreeably surprised to see arising a regular wall,

filling up the gap. During the time that the workers

are thus busied the soldiers remain within the nest,

with the exception of a few, which walk about

apparently idly, never touching the mortar, among the

hundreds and thousands of workers. Nevertheless one of

them stands on guard close to the wall which is being

built. It turns gently each way in turn, lifting its

head at intervals of one or two minutes to strike the

building with its heavy mandibles, making the

before-mentioned crackling noise. This signal is

immediately answered by a loud rustling from the

interior of the nest and from all the subterranean

passages and holes. There is no doubt that this noise

arises from the workers, for as often as the sign is

given they work with increased energy and speed. A

renewal of the attack instantaneously changes the

scene. 'At the first stroke,' says Smeathman, 'the

workers run into the many tunnels and passages which

run through the building, and this happens so quickly

that they seem regularly to vanish. In a few seconds

they are all gone, and in their stead appear the

soldiers once more, as numerous and as pugnacious as

before. If they find no enemy, they turn back slowly

into the interior of the hill, and immediately the

mortar-laden workers again appear, and among them a

few soldiers, which behave just as on the first

occasion. So one can have the pleasure of seeing them

work and fight in turn, as often as one chooses; and

it will be found each time that one set never fight,

and the other never work, however great the need may

be.'[72]

Similar facts have been observed by Fritz Müller of the South American

species.

The Termites, being like the Ecitons blind, like them make all their

expeditions under the protection of covered ways. These are underground

tunnels in all cases where circumstances permit, but on arriving at a

rock or other impenetrable obstruction, they build a tubular passage

upon the surface. According to Büchner,--

They can even carry their viaducts through the air,

and that in such bold arches that it is difficult to

understand how they were projected. In order to reach

a sack of meal which was well protected below, they

broke through the roof of the room in which it was,

and built a straight tube from the breach they had

made down to the sack. As soon as they tried to carry

off their booty to a safe place, they became convinced

that it was impossible to pull it up the straight

road. In order to meet this difficulty, they adopted

the principle of the smooth incline, the use of which

we have already seen in the interior of their nests,

and built close to the first tube a second, which

wound spirally within, like the famous clock tower of

Venice. It was now an easy task to carry their booty

up this road and so away. . . . Either from the desire

to remain undiscovered, or from their liking for

darkness, they have the remarkable habit of destroying

and gnawing everything from within outwards, and of

leaving the outside shell standing, so that from the

outside appearance the dangerous state of the inside is

not perceptible. If, for instance, they have destroyed

a table or other piece of household furniture, in which

they always manage from the ground upwards to hit

exactly the places on which the feet of the article

rest, the table looks perfectly uninjured outside, and

people are quite astonished when it breaks down under

the slightest pressure. The whole inside is eaten away,

and only the thinnest shell is left standing. If fruits

are lying on the table, they also are eaten out from

the exact spot on which they rest on the surface of the

table.

In similar fashion things consisting wholly of wood,

such as wooden ships, trees, &c., are destroyed by

them so that they finally break in without any one

having noticed the mischief. Yet it is said that they

go so prudently to work in their destruction that the

main beams, the sudden breakage of which would

threaten the whole building and themselves therewith,

are either spared, or else so fastened together again

with a cement made out of clay and earth that their

strength is greater than ever!(?) Hagen also states

that they never cut right through the corks which stop

up stored bottles of wine, but leave a very thin

layer, which is sufficient to prevent the outflow of

the wine and the consequent destruction of the

workers. The same author relates that in order to

reach a box of wax lights they made a covered road

from the ground up to the second story of a house.[73]

It is needless to give a special description of any of the other habits

of these insects, such as their swarming, breeding, &c., for they all

more or less closely resemble the analogous habits of ants and bees. It

is very remarkable that insects of two distinct orders should both

manifest such closely similar social habits of such high complexity, and

it rather surprises me that more has not been made of this point by

writers opposed to the principles of evolution. Of course if the point

were raised, the argument in answer would require to be, either that the

similar instincts were derived from common and very remote progenitors

(in which case the fact would form by far the most remarkable instance

of the permanency of instincts among changing species), or more

probably, that similar causes operating in the two orders have produced

similar effects--complex and otherwise unique though these effects

undoubtedly are.

In connection with the theory of evolution I may conclude this chapter

with the following quotation from Smeathman, as it shows how natural

relation may develop for the benefit of the species instincts which are

detrimental to the individual. Speaking of the soldiers he says:--

I was always amused at the pugnacity displayed when,

in making a hole in the earthy cemented archway of

their covered roads, a host of these little fellows

mounted the breach to cover the retreat of the

workers. The edges of the rupture bristled with their

armed heads as the courageous warriors ranged

themselves in compact line around them. They attacked

fiercely any intruding object, and as fast as their

front ranks were destroyed, others filled up their

places. When the jaws closed in the flesh, they

suffered themselves to be torn in pieces rather than

loosen their hold. It might be said that this instinct

is rather a cause of their ruin than a protection when

a colony is attacked by the well-known enemy of

termites, the ant-bear; but it is the soldiers only

which attach themselves to the long worm-like tongue

of this animal, and the workers, on whom the

prosperity of the young brood immediately depends, are

left for the most part unharmed. I always found, on

thrusting my finger into a mixed crowd of termites,

that the soldiers only fastened upon it. Thus the

fighting caste do in the end serve to protect the

species by sacrificing themselves to its good.[74]

FOOTNOTES:

[71] _Loc. cit._, p. 189.

[72] _Ibid._, p. 119.

[73] _Geistesleben der Thiere_, pp. 194 and 199-200.

[74] Phil. Trans., _loc. cit._

Animal Intelligence The International Scientific Series, Vol. XLIV. · 第 8 / 22 章