I
This morning sky, after the night’s tempest, is a pure and dazzling
blue. The air—the delicious air!—is full of sweet resinous odors, shed
from the countless pine-boughs broken and strewn by the gale. In the
neighboring bamboo-grove I hear the flute-call of the bird that praises
the Sûtra of the Lotos; and the land is very still by reason of the
south wind. Now the summer, long delayed, is truly with us: butterflies
of queer Japanese colors are flickering about; semi (1) are wheezing;
wasps are humming; gnats are dancing in the sun; and the ants are busy
repairing their damaged habitations... I bethink me of a Japanese
poem:—
Yuku é naki:
Ari no sumai ya!
Go-getsu amé.
[_Now the poor creature has nowhere to go!... Alas for the dwellings of
the ants in this rain of the fifth month!_]
But those big black ants in my garden do not seem to need any sympathy.
They have weathered the storm in some unimaginable way, while great
trees were being uprooted, and houses blown to fragments, and roads
washed out of existence. Yet, before the typhoon, they took no other
visible precaution than to block up the gates of their subterranean
town. And the spectacle of their triumphant toil to-day impels me to
attempt an essay on Ants.
I should have liked to preface my disquisitions with something from the
old Japanese literature,—something emotional or metaphysical. But all
that my Japanese friends were able to find for me on the
subject,—excepting some verses of little worth,—was Chinese. This
Chinese material consisted chiefly of strange stories; and one of them
seems to me worth quoting,—_faute de mieux_.
In the province of Taishū, in China, there was a pious man who, every
day, during many years, fervently worshiped a certain goddess. One
morning, while he was engaged in his devotions, a beautiful woman,
wearing a yellow robe, came into his chamber and stood before him. He,
greatly surprised, asked her what she wanted, and why she had entered
unannounced. She answered: “I am not a woman: I am the goddess whom you
have so long and so faithfully worshiped; and I have now come to prove
to you that your devotion has not been in vain... Are you acquainted
with the language of Ants?” The worshiper replied: “I am only a
low-born and ignorant person,—not a scholar; and even of the language
of superior men I know nothing.” At these words the goddess smiled, and
drew from her bosom a little box, shaped like an incense box. She
opened the box, dipped a finger into it, and took therefrom some kind
of ointment with which she anointed the ears of the man. “Now,” she
said to him, “try to find some Ants, and when you find any, stoop down,
and listen carefully to their talk. You will be able to understand it;
and you will hear of something to your advantage... Only remember that
you must not frighten or vex the Ants.” Then the goddess vanished away.
The man immediately went out to look for some Ants. He had scarcely
crossed the threshold of his door when he perceived two Ants upon a
stone supporting one of the house-pillars. He stooped over them, and
listened; and he was astonished to find that he could hear them
talking, and could understand what they said. “Let us try to find a
warmer place,” proposed one of the Ants. “Why a warmer place?” asked
the other;—“what is the matter with this place?” “It is too damp and
cold below,” said the first Ant; “there is a big treasure buried here;
and the sunshine cannot warm the ground about it.” Then the two Ants
went away together, and the listener ran for a spade.
By digging in the neighborhood of the pillar, he soon found a number of
large jars full of gold coin. The discovery of this treasure made him a
very rich man.
Afterwards he often tried to listen to the conversation of Ants. But he
was never again able to hear them speak. The ointment of the goddess
had opened his ears to their mysterious language for only a single day.
Now I, like that Chinese devotee, must confess myself a very ignorant
person, and naturally unable to hear the conversation of Ants. But the
Fairy of Science sometimes touches my ears and eyes with her wand; and
then, for a little time, I am able to hear things inaudible, and to
perceive things imperceptible.