AN HOUR WITH AN ANT.

If you want to know how to accomplish a hard task, come with me and

watch a little ant for an hour.

She was a small, black ant, and, seeing a brown worm eight times as

large as herself, she was seized with the ambition to take it home in

triumph.

Now will you tell me how she knew that she could have no power over

the worm while he was on his ten feet, that stuck to the sidewalk like

glue? Before she attempted anything, she fastened her mandibles into

his side and turned him over on his back just as you see Bridget turn

the mattress. Then running to his head she again fastened her mandibles

and dragged him for a couple of inches. While pausing to get her

breath, the worm took the opportunity to get on his feet once more. The

ant did not seem to notice the change in position till she tried again

to drag the body. As soon as she felt it sticking, around she ran to

the side, over went the worm in a trice, and once more the two started

on their journey. Now they were close to a crack in the broad sidewalk,

and I, thinking to help the little worker, in whom by this time I was

quite interested, lifted the worm across the crack.

Did you ever try to help some one and find too late you had done

exactly the wrong thing? Then you know how I felt when that little ant

began rushing around as if she were crazy, and when she got hold of the

worm again, began to drag it back across the very crack I had lifted it

over. Can you guess why? She was taking a bee-line to her house, and I

had changed the direction. But how was she to get that big body across

a crack that could swallow them both? That was what I waited anxiously

to see. Soon the worm felt himself going down, down into a dark abyss,

and of course caught hold of the side to save himself, and when he once

felt he had a hold on life how he did hold on! The ant was not to be

daunted; balancing herself on the edge, and holding on by her feet, she

reached down her mandibles and dragged him by main force straight up

the perpendicular wall to the top; nor did she stop till he was carried

far enough from the edge not to get down again.

In this way three cracks were safely crossed, and it was plain to see

the worm was losing heart, although every time the ant paused for

breath he would get over on his feet and have to be tossed back again.

And now a new difficulty arose. The worm had been dragged about

eighteen inches over the boards. Fourteen inches more would bring them

to the ant's house, or, rather, hill. But the way was now off from the

sidewalk, and no sooner did the worm feel the stubble under him than

he gathered all his strength, turned over on his feet, and held on to

every spear of grass for dear life.

Indeed, it was his last chance, and I felt tempted to snatch him

from the certain death awaiting him, but curiosity to see how this

new obstacle would be overcome induced me to wait. The ant now felt

justified in calling for assistance, and soon a dozen ants had come to

help. Only five could work to advantage, so the rest, for ants never

like to do the "heavy looking on," left to find other employment.

The first thing to be done was to get the worm on his back, and this

proved no easy task. He could fasten his feet just as fast as the ants

could unfasten them. At last two ants went to one end and two to the

other. Each one of the four seized a foot in her strong mandibles and

held it out as far as possible, while the fifth one turned the captive.

It was the funniest sight! It was easy now to drag him two or three

inches, but breath had to be taken, and again the worm fastened. In

vain they tugged and pulled. He had evidently learned their tactics

and knew how to defend himself. Suddenly his body moved along an inch

and a half, as if by magic. Was it magic? Not at all. One little ant

had run up on an overhanging blade of grass, and, reaching down,

holding on by the wonderful feet spoken of before, and grabbed the poor

creature in the middle, raised it right up from the ground, and keeping

hold, ran along overhead till the end of the spear of grass was reached.

This was the last struggle of any importance. The worm gave up

discouraged; it was only now a question of time till they had dragged

him through the stubble up to the door of the house in the hill, and

I saw only a faint quiver as of dread as his body passed through the

mysterious opening. I could not help wondering if the ant who started

the capture received all the praise she deserved, or if the other four

took the glory to themselves.

At any rate, no one could take away her own satisfaction in overcoming

and winning in the struggle.

Harriet Woodbridge.

Birds and Nature, Vol. 08, No. 4, November 1900 Illustrated by Color Photography · 第 11 / 22 题