reflectively. "Let me see--just forty-seven--no, forty-eight! I
forgot the Mogung cantilever. Never in Burma were you? Well, it's
the only time I ever went abroad. It was something of a compliment
for a young fellow of twenty-two to be sent on his company's first
job abroad. I should have liked the trip first rate if Harry Lancy
hadn't been going as foreman.
"Harry had risen from the ranks, and at twenty-five was considered
one of the company's best men. I'd never worked under him; but I
judged he'd be uppish and arbitrary, and knew I shouldn't like him.
You notice such things when you've just come of age. As you get
older, you begin to think less of your own feelings, and more of
doing your work right.
"We landed at Rangoon about May 1st, went by rail to Mandalay, and
from there travelled slowly up-country by construction-train to the
Mogung Gorge. During the whole journey I didn't speak a hundred
words to Lancy. Still, I don't think he suspected I had any grudge
against him. If he did, he never let on, but treated me just like
the others.
"The gorge was an awful hole, two hundred and fifty feet wide and
two hundred deep, with the river dashing white over the ledges at
its bottom. It was to be spanned by a cantilever bridge with an
intermediate truss.
"We found our work all cut out for us. Every beam and girder was on
the ground, numbered and ready. There were plenty of coolies for
the ordinary labor. So we got busy at once. A temporary wire
suspension-bridge was thrown across above the site of the
cantilever, and work begun from both sides at the same time.
"From the outset I had determined to give Lancy no chance for
fault-finding, but to have as little to do with him as I possibly
could.
"Little by little our beam-trusses pushed out from each bank, and
the gap between them grew narrower.
"One thing that interested me especially at first was the wild
bees. For miles back into the hills their nests lined the walls of
the gorge. Millions of them made it their thoroughfare to and from
the flower-covered plains below us. Particularly at morning and
night their hum, echoing through the ravine and mingling with the
murmur of the river, sounded like the drone of distant machinery.
"These bees were black and small; but they made up in fierceness
for what they lacked in size. Their stings were far more painful
and poisonous than those of our bees here. Some of us, myself
included, learned this by experience; and we didn't need more than
one lesson.
"By the middle of June the ends of the opposite beams were about
fifty feet apart.
"One hot morning, between ten and eleven, I was reaming out a
rivet-hole in the tip of the last beam. I was feeling out of sorts
that forenoon. Lancy had given his orders to me gruff and short,
though, as a matter of fact, he was probably just as gruff with
everybody else. But when you're looking for trouble, you know, you
don't have much trouble finding it.
"I straddled the beam, my feet almost touching under it. It was hot
in the unclouded sun, and the air was full of tropical scents.
Insects hummed round me. Bright-colored butterflies floated by. Now
and then a flock of shrieking birds swept up the gorge. On the
steel behind me a dozen men were busy.
"I had almost finished the hole, when my ears caught a humming,
gradually growing louder. I looked down. Several yards below hung a
black mass about as big as a nail-keg. It was a nest of wild bees
swarming.
"At first I felt curious, interested. Then I noticed that the bunch
was rising directly toward me, and I began to feel alarmed, as I
remembered their fearful stings. If they attacked me I should be in
a bad fix.
"Slowly, with a revolving motion and an intense, spiteful
_sszzzzz_-ing, the irregular mass kept rising. Its center
seemed so solid that I wondered how the wings had room to beat. Its
outside frayed off into separate bees, drawn inward by a common
attraction.
"It was not a yard under me now. I dared not move, for I knew what
concentrated misery the swarm held for the man who angered it. As I
watched it floating nearer, my skin crept and my; brain was
fascinated by that monotonous buzzing. Perhaps, if I sat perfectly
quiet, it would pass and leave me unharmed.
"For a moment, apparently undecided, the ball hovered under me.
Then with a quickened motion, up it came, straight for my feet.
"I grew hot and cold. My flesh quivered with the imaginary stings
of thousands of poisoned needles, as the fearful mass melted apart
and settled in thick clusters on my shoes and legs!
"As I watched the crawling thousands come to rest, I simply choked
with terror. What could I do? If I made the slightest motion to get
up, they would swarm over me like lightning, and sting me to death.
"Twenty feet behind me one of my mates began to hammer, shaking the
beam with his blows. I was afraid the jar might anger the bees into
an attack.
"'Stop that pounding, Jim!' I begged huskily, as he ceased for a
moment. The hammering stopped.
"Then exclamations of alarm and sympathy fell upon my ears, and
presently all work on the steel was suspended. I could hear feet
shuffling quietly back to the bank. Soon I was left alone on the
truss, threatened with a death ten times more horrible than any
tiger or snake could inflict.
"Not daring to move a muscle, not even to turn my head, I sat, as
it seemed to me, for hours, perfectly rigid, staring straight
forward at the red-painted end of the opposite beam, wavering in
the heat fifty feet away. My brain was clear as glass, my senses
keen. Low, excited voices babbled behind me. I could smell onions
boiling in the cook's quarters, and hear his pans and dishes
rattling.
"Every little while I turned my eyes downward, hoping to see the
bees getting ready to leave. But my shoes and trousers were still
buried inches deep under the sluggishly clinging black bodies.
"The brassy alarm-clock in the mess tent clanged out eleven. I had
been sitting there only half an hour.
"The sun struck fiercely down on my head, scantily protected by my
thin cap. A filmy white feather from some passing bird dropped
before my face. I followed it past the hideous furry swelling on my
feet, straight down through the breezeless air, till it dwindled to
a white speck above the ledges two hundred feet below. That was
where I should strike if I fell; but what torments I should suffer
before I struck!
"The beam was hard and hot. I could not sit quiet forever. I
stirred uneasily. An angry hum rose, and I stiffened. Some of the
bees were above my knees. Suppose I should crush one between my leg
and the steel! Suppose they should creep up and cover my body and
head!
"A banging of pans began on the bank. Somebody had borrowed the
cook's tinware in the hope of starting the swarm. A wave of unrest
ran over the insects; but soon they settled into quiet again.
"The heat was affecting my head. I felt fretful, irritable. Why
didn't somebody do something to help me? But what? My teeth
chattered, a nervous chill shook me, and the bees buzzed at my
shaking.
"The voices behind me stopped. Something was about to happen. I
listened. Feet came stealing cautiously along the beam. What was
going on?
"'Sit perfectly still.'
"It was Lancy's voice. What was he trying to do? I felt a consuming
curiosity, but dared not turn my head. His voice came again:
"'Take a full breath; then shut your mouth.'
"What in the world had my mouth got to do with it? But I obeyed.
"A penetrating sulphurous scent stole through the thick air. Then
right under my bee-swollen feet swung a small black kettle,
suspended by a chain round its bail, and filled with a yellowish
substance, burning bluely. It was brimstone, of which we had a
supply for fastening bolts in the rocks. Lancy was trying to smoke
the bees off.
"Back oscillated the kettle out of my sight. But the swarm had got
the benefit of its contents and didn't like them. An ominous
buzzing rose. Their wings lifted, then settled back. The scent was
not strong enough to start them.
"I took another full breath. To me the strangling fumes had been
sweet for the relief they promised. Once more the kettle swung
under me, this time remaining a little longer. The smell was
strong; with difficulty I repressed a coughing that threatened to
shake me.
"This time the outer layer of bees rose slightly and hovered over
the others. Some flew wildly and angrily about. A few dropped,
stupefied. It would evidently take but little more to start the
whole swarm. Lancy moved up close behind me.
"Again he swung the kettle under the bees. They had had enough. The
entire mass left my legs. The greater number dropped down and hung
a few feet below, but stray skirmishers flew confusedly about.
"So far, however, not a single bee had touched either of us. It
looked as if we were to escape unharmed.
"Suddenly an unexpected disaster happened. One end of the bail
pulled out, allowing the kettle to tilt down sidewise. Out fell the
sulphur in a blue-burning, smoky stream. A moment later the chain
slipped entirely off the bail; the kettle shot downward, leaving
only a vanishing scent and a swarm of infuriated bees.
"Lancy grabbed my shoulder.
"'Quick! For your life!'
"I didn't need any urging; but I was stiff and slightly dizzy from
the fumes, and it took me several seconds to get to my feet on the
beam. Unfortunately, too, I crushed three or four bees that Were
crawling stupidly on the steel.
"Then it seemed as if the whole swarm struck me at once. The
sulphur may have half-stupefied them, but they hadn't forgotten how
to sting.
"I'll never forget my walk along that narrow beam to the bank. The
bees were all over me in a moment. My hands and face felt as if
they were being punctured with red-hot splinters. Before I'd gone
ten steps my eyes were closed so tight I couldn't see.
"I'd have gone off the beam head first if it hadn't been for Lancy.
He had on gloves, and mosquito-netting over his head. But they
crawled up his sleeves and down his neck, and stung him bad. Yet he
didn't falter. With one hand stretched back and grasping mine, he
walked cool and straight for the bank, as if he'd been on solid
ground, instead of two hundred feet in the air.
"Blind and almost crazy from the stings, I stumbled along behind
him. Every step was agony. I was almost tempted to jump from the
beam and go down to be crushed to pulp on the boulders. The only
thing that saved me was Lancy's hand, cool, firm and strong.
"'Steady! Steady!' he kept saying. I heard him through the
shooting, burning pains, and it saved my reason. At last it didn't
seem as if I could take another step.
"'Let go!' I cried, trying to get my hand loose; but he dragged me
on.
"'In a minute,' said he; and all at once I felt the earth under my
feet.
"I wasn't so far gone but I gave the hand I'd been holding a grip
that squeezed the fingers together. It was all the thanks I could
offer just then. Lancy squeezed back. Then everybody turned to and
helped fight the bees off us.
"It was weeks before I got over those stings. Lancy had suffered,
too, but of course not so badly. I don't know that he ever knew why
I gripped his hand so hard. I was too much ashamed to tell him of
the grudge I'd held. But I do know that after that I looked on him
as one of my best friends. He'd saved my life, and a friend can't
do much more for you than that."
THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANTS
By Sir John Lubbock
The subject of ants is a wide one, for there are at least a
thousand species of ants, no two of which have the same habits. In
this country (England) we have rather more than thirty, most of
which I have kept in confinement. Their life is comparatively long:
I have had working ants which were seven years old, and a queen ant
lived in one of my nests for fifteen years. The community consists,
in addition to the young, of males, which do no work, of wingless
workers, and one or more queen mothers, who have at first wings,
which, however, after one marriage flight, they throw off, as they
never leave the nest again, and in it wings would of course be
useless. The workers do not, except occasionally, lay eggs, but
carry on all the affairs of the community. Some of them, and
especially the younger ones, remain in the nest, excavate chambers
and tunnels, and tend the young, which are sorted up according to
age, so that my nests often had the appearance of a school, with
the children arranged in classes. In our English ants the workers
in each species are all similar except in size, but among foreign
species there are some in which there are two or even more classes
of workers, differing greatly not only in size, but also in form.
The differences are not the result of age nor of race, but are
adaptations to different functions, the nature of which, however,
is not yet well understood. Among the Termites, those of one class
certainly seem to act as soldiers, and among the true ants also
some have comparatively immense heads and powerful jaws. It is
doubtful, however, whether they form a real army. Bates observed
that on a foraging expedition the large-headed individuals did not
walk in the regular ranks, nor on the return did they carry any of
the booty, but marched along at the side, and at tolerably regular
intervals, "like subaltern officers in a marching regiment."
Solomon was, so far as we yet know, quite correct in describing
ants as having "neither guide, overseer, nor ruler." The so-called
queens are really mothers. Nevertheless it is true, and it is
curious, that the working ants and bees always turn their heads
towards the queen. It seems as if the sight of her gives them
pleasure. On one occasion, while moving some ants from one nest
into another for exhibition at the Royal Institution, I
unfortunately crushed the queen and killed her. The others,
however, did not desert her, or draw her out as they do dead
workers, but on the contrary carried her into the new nest, and
subsequently into a larger one with which I supplied them,
congregating round her for weeks just as if she had been alive. One
could hardly help fancying that they were mourning her loss, or
hoping anxiously for her recovery.
The communities of ants are sometimes very large, numbering even up
to 500,000 individuals; and it is a lesson to us, that no one has
ever yet seen a quarrel between any two ants belonging to the same
community. On the other hand, it must be admitted that they are in
hostility, not only with most other insects, including ants of
different species, but even with those of the same species if
belonging to different communities. I have over and over again
introduced ants from one of my nests into another nest of the same
species, and they were invariably attacked, seized by a leg or an
antenna, and dragged out.
It is evident therefore that the ants of each community all
recognize one another, which is very remarkable. But more than
this, I several times divided a nest into two halves, and found
that even after a separation of a year and nine months they
recognized one another, and were perfectly friendly; while they at
once attacked ants from a different nest, although of the same
species.
It has been suggested that the ants of each nest have some sign or
password by which they recognize one another. To test this I made
some insensible. First I tried chloroform, but this was fatal to
them; and as therefore they were practically dead, I did not
consider the test satisfactory. I decided therefore to intoxicate
them. This was less easy than I had expected. None of my ants would
voluntarily degrade themselves by getting drunk. However, I got
over the difficulty by putting them into whisky for a few moments.
I took fifty specimens, twenty-five from one nest and twenty-five
from another, made them dead drunk, marked each with a spot of
paint, and put them on a table close to where the other ants from
one of the nests were feeding. The table was surrounded as usual
with a moat of water to prevent them from straying. The ants which
were feeding soon noticed those which I had made drunk. They seemed
quite astonished to find their comrades in such disgraceful
condition, and as much at a loss to know what to do with their
drunkards as we are. After a while, however, to cut my story short,
they carried them all away: the strangers they took to edge of the
moat and dropped into the water, while they bore their friends home
into the nest, where by degrees they slept off the effects of the
spirit. Thus it is evident that they know their friends even when
incapable of giving any sign or password.
This little experiment also shows that they help comrades in
distress. If a wolf or a rook be ill or injured, we are told that
it is driven away or even killed by its comrades. Not so with ants.
For instance, in one of my nests an unfortunate ant, in emerging
from the chrysalis skin, injured her legs so much that she lay on
her back quite helpless. For three months, however, she was
carefully fed and tended by the other ants. In another case an ant
in the same manner had injured her antennae. I watched her also
carefully to see what would happen. For some days she did not leave
the nest. At last one day she ventured outside, and after a while
met a stranger ant of the same species, but belonging to another
nest, by whom she was at once attacked. I tried to separate them,
but whether by her enemy, or perhaps by my well-meant but clumsy
kindness, she was evidently much hurt and lay helplessly on her
side. Several others passed her without taking any notice, but soon
one came up, examined her carefully with her antennae, and carried
her off tenderly to the nest. No one, I think, who saw it could
have denied to that ant one attribute of humanity, the quality of
kindness.
The existence of such communities as those of ants or bees implies,
no doubt, some power of communication, but the amount is still a
matter of doubt. It is well known that if one bee or ant discovers
a store of food, others soon find their way to it. This, however,
does not prove much. It makes all the difference whether they are
brought or sent. If they merely accompany on her return a companion
who has brought a store of food, it does not imply much. To test
this, therefore, I made several experiments. For instance, one cold
day my ants were almost all in their nests. One only was out
hunting and about six feet from home. I took a dead bluebottle fly,
pinned it on to a piece of cork, and put it down just in front of
her. She at once tried to carry off the fly, but to her surprise
found it immovable. She tugged and tugged, first one way and then
another for about twenty minutes, and then went straight off to the
nest. During that time not a single ant had come out; in fact she
was the only ant of that nest out at the time. She went straight
in, but in a few seconds--less than half a minute--came out again
with no less than twelve friends, who trooped off with her, and
eventually tore up the dead fly, carrying it off in triumph.
Now the first ant took nothing home with her; she must therefore
somehow have made her friends understand that she had found some
food, and wanted them to come and help her to secure it. In all
such cases, however, so far as my experience goes, the ants brought
their friends, and some of my experiments indicated that they are
unable to send them.
Certain species of ants, again, make slaves of others, as Huber
first observed. If a colony of the slave-making ants is changing
the nest, a matter which is left to the discretion of the slaves,
the latter carry their mistresses to their new home. Again, if I
uncovered one of my nests of the Fuscous ant (Formica fusca), they
all began running about in search of some place of refuge. If now I
covered over one small part of the nest, after a while some ant
discovered it. In such a case, however, the brave little insect
never remained there, she came out in search of her friends, and
the first one she met she took up in her jaws, threw over her
shoulder (their way of carrying friends), and took into the covered
part; then both came out again, found two more friends and brought
them in, the same manoeuvre being repeated until the whole
community was in a place of safety. This I think says much for
their public spirit, but it seems to prove that, in F. fusca at
least, the powers of communication are but limited.
One kind of slave-making ant has become so completely dependent on
their slaves that even if provided with food they will die of
hunger, unless there is a slave to put it into their mouths, I
found, however, that they would thrive very well if supplied with a
slave for an hour or so once a week to clean and feed them.
But in many cases the community does not consist of ants only. They
have domestic animals, and indeed it is not going too far to say
that they have domesticated more animals than we have. Of these the
most important are Aphides on trees and bushes; others collect
root-feeding Aphides into their nests. They serve as cows to the
ants, which feed on the honey-dew secreted by the Aphides. Not
only, moreover, do the ants protect the Aphides themselves, but
collect their eggs in autumn, and tend them carefully through the
winter, ready for the next spring. Many other insects are also
domesticated by ants, and some of them, from living constantly
underground, have completely lost their eyes and become quite
blind.
When we see a community of ants working together in perfect
harmony, it is impossible not to ask ourselves how far they are
mere exquisite automatons; how far they are conscious beings. When
we watch an ant-hill tenanted by thousands of industrious
inhabitants, excavating chambers, forming tunnels, making
roads, guarding their home, gathering food, feeding the young,
tending their domestic animals--each one fulfilling its duties
industriously, and without confusion--it is difficult; altogether
to deny to them the gift of reason; and all our recent observations
tend to confirm the opinion that their mental powers differ from
those of men, not so much in kind as in degree.
THE KATY-DID'S PARTY
By Harriet Beecher Stowe
Miss Katy-did sat on the branch of a flowering azalea, in her best
suit of fine green and silver, with wings of point-lace from Mother
Nature's finest web.
Miss Katy was in the very highest possible spirits, because her
gallant cousin, Colonel Katy-did, had looked in to make her a
morning visit. It was a fine morning, too, which goes for as much
among the Katy-dids as among men and women. It was, in fact, a
morning that Miss Katy thought must have been made on purpose for
her to enjoy herself in. There had been a patter of rain the night
before, which had kept the leaves awake talking to each other till
nearly morning, but by dawn the small winds had blown brisk little
puffs, and whisked the heavens clear and bright with their tiny
wings, as you have seen Susan clear away the cobwebs in your
mamma's parlor; and so now there were only left a thousand
blinking, burning water drops, hanging like convex mirrors at the
end of each leaf, and Miss Katy admired herself in each one.
"Certainly I am a pretty creature," she said to herself; and when
the gallant Colonel said something about being dazzled by her
beauty, she only tossed her head and took it as quite a matter of
course.
"The fact is, my dear Colonel," she said, "I am thinking of giving
a party, and you must help me make out the lists."
"My dear, you make me the happiest of Katy-dids."
"Now," said Miss Katy-did, drawing an azalea-leaf towards her, "let
us see,--whom shall we have? The Fireflies, of course; everybody
wants them, they are so brilliant; a little unsteady, to be sure,
but quite in the higher circles."
"Yes, we must have the Fireflies," echoed the Colonel.
"Well, then,--and the Butterflies and the Moths. Now, there's a
trouble. There's such an everlasting tribe of those Moths; and if
you invite dull people they're always sure all to come, every one
of them. Still, if you have the Butterflies, you can't leave out
the Moths."
"Old Mrs. Moth has been laid up lately with a gastric fever, and
that may keep two or three of the Misses Moth at home," said the
Colonel.
"What ever could give the old lady such a turn?" said Miss Katy. "I
thought she never was sick."
"I suspect it's high living. I understand she and her family ate up
a whole ermine cape last month, and it disagreed with them."