M. Huber made most of his observations upon the processes followed by ants in glazed artificial hives or formicaries. The preceding figure represents a view of one of his formicaries of mason-ants.
We have ourselves followed up his observations, both on natural ant-hills and in artificial formicaries. On digging cautiously into a natural ant-hill, established upon the edge of a garden-walk, we were enabled to obtain a pretty complete view of the interior structure. There were two stories, composed of large chambers, irregularly oval, communicating with each other by arched galleries, the walls of all which were as smooth and well-polished as if they had been passed over by a plasterer’s trowel. The floors of the chambers, we remarked, were by no means either horizontal or level, but all more or less sloped, and exhibiting in each chamber at least two slight depressions of an irregular shape. We left the under story of this nest untouched, with the notion that the ants might repair the upper galleries, of which we had made a vertical section; but instead of doing so they migrated during the day to a large crack formed by the dryness of the weather, about a yard from their old nest. (J. R.)
We put a number of yellow ants (Formica flava), with their eggs and cocoons, into a small glass frame, more than half full of moist sand taken from their native hill, and placed in a sloping position, in order to see whether they would bring the nearly vertical, and therefore insecure, portion to a level by masonry. We were delighted to perceive that they immediately resolved upon performing the task which had been assigned them, though they did not proceed very methodically in their manner of building; for instead of beginning at the bottom and building upwards, many of them went on to add to the top of the outer surface, which increased rather than diminished the insecurity of the whole. Withal, however, they seemed to know how far to go, for no portion of the newly-built wall fell; and in two days they had not only reared a pyramidal mound to prop the rest, but had constructed several galleries and chambers for lodging the cocoons, which we had scattered at random amongst the sand. The new portion of this building is represented in the figure as supporting the upper and insecure parts of the nest.
We are sorry to record that our ingenious little masons were found upon the third day strewed about the outside of the building dead or dying, either from over-fatigue or perhaps from surfeit, as we had supplied them with as much honey as they could devour. A small colony of turf-ants have at this moment (July 28th, 1829) taken possession of the premises of their own accord. (J. R.)
STRUCTURES OF THE WOOD-ANT OR PISMIRE, AND OF CARPENTER-ANTS.
The largest of our British ants is that called the Hill-ant by Gould, the Fallow-ant by the English translator of Huber, and popularly the Pismire; but which we think may be more appropriately named the Wood-ant (Formica rufa, Latr.), from its invariable habit of living in or near woods and forests. This insect may be readily distinguished from other ants by the dusky black colour of its head and hinder parts, and the rusty brown of its middle. The structures reared by this species are often of considerable magnitude, and bear no small resemblance to a rook’s nest thrown upon the ground bottom upwards. They occur in abundance in the woods near London, and in many other parts of the country: in Oak of Honour Wood alone, we are acquainted with the localities of at least two dozen,—some in the interior, and others on the hedge-banks on the outskirts of the wood. (J. R.)
The exterior of the nest is composed of almost every transportable material which the colonists can find in their vicinity; but the greater portion consists of the stems of withered grass and short twigs of trees, piled up in apparent confusion, but with sufficient regularity to render the whole smooth, conical, and sloping towards the base, for the purpose, we may infer, of carrying off rain-water. When within reach of a corn-field, they often also pick up grains of wheat, barley, or oats, and carry them to the nest as building materials, and not for food, as was believed by the ancients. There are wonders enough observable in the economy of ants, without having recourse to fancy—wonders which made Aristotle extol the sagacity of bloodless animals, and Cicero ascribe to them not only sensation, but mind, reason, and memory.[CY] Ælian, however, describes, as if he had actually witnessed it, the ants ascending a stalk of growing corn, and throwing down “the ears which they bit off to their companions below.” Aldrovand assures us that he had seen their granaries; and others pretend that they shrewdly bite off the ends of the grain to prevent it from germinating.[CZ] These are fables which accurate observation has satisfactorily contradicted.
But these errors, as it frequently happens, have contributed to a more perfect knowledge of the insects than we might otherwise have obtained; for it was the wish to prove or disprove the circumstance of their storing up and feeding upon grain which led Gould to make his observations on English ants; as the notion of insects being produced from putrid carcases had before led Redi to his ingenious experiments on their generation. Yet, although it is more than eighty years since Gould’s book was published, we find the error still repeated in very respectable publications.[DA]
The coping which we above described as forming the exterior of the wood-ant’s nest, is only a small portion of the structure, which consists of a great number of interior chambers and galleries, with funnel-shaped avenues leading to them. The coping, indeed, is one of the most essential parts, and we cannot follow a more delightful guide than the younger Huber in detailing its formation.
“The labourers,” he says, "of which the colony is composed, not only work continually on the outside of their nest, but, differing very essentially from other species, who willingly remain in the interior, sheltered from the sun, they prefer living in the open air, and do not hesitate to carry on, even in our presence, the greater part of their operations.
"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 open during the whole time of its construction. We soon observed the roof 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 builders through a pane of glass, adjusted against one of their habitations, I am thence enabled to speak with some degree of certainty upon the manner in which they are constructed. I ascertained that it is by excavating or mining the under portion of their edifice that they form their spacious halls—low, indeed, and of heavy construction, yet sufficiently convenient for the use to which they are appropriated, that of receiving, at certain hours of the day, the larvæ and pupæ.
"These halls have a free communication by galleries, made in the same manner. If the materials of which the ant-hill is composed were only interlaced, they would fall into a confused heap every time the ants attempted to bring them into regular order. This, however, is obviated by their tempering the earth with rain-water, which, afterwards hardened in the sun, so completely and effectually binds together the several substances, as to permit the removal of certain fragments from the ant-hill without any injury to the rest; it, moreover, strongly opposes the introduction of the rain. 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.
“As to the underground portion, it can only be seen when the ant-hill is placed against a declivity; all the interior may be then readily brought in view, by simply raising up the straw roof. The subterranean residence consists of a range of apartments, excavated in the earth, taking an horizontal direction.”[DB]
[It seems rather surprising that the wood-ants should be able, with such materials as they employ, to make a dome-shaped structure, which shall be furnished with cells and galleries, and yet shall endure rain and wind, without being penetrated by the one or blown away by the other. If the hill be closely examined, the little sticks of which it is composed will be seen to have a definite, though not very regular arrangement; and it is a noteworthy circumstance that the longest are preserved for the galleries, being laid across each other in a very ingenious manner, so as to prevent the material from falling and filling up the galleries. This structure was shown very clearly in a huge ant-hill in Bagshot Park. We introduced a sheet of plate glass into the nest, so as to divide it perpendicularly into two halves, and having given the insects six weeks to repair damages, we removed one half of the hill, so that the whole interior of the other half could be seen through the glass. The whole economy of the nest was thus made clear, and the artificial arrangement of the materials showed itself very plainly on the roofs of the cells and galleries.]
M. P. Huber, in order to observe the operations of the wood-ant with more attention, transferred colonies of them to his artificial formicaries, plunging the feet of the stand into water to prevent their escape till they were reconciled to their abode, and had made some progress in repairing it.
[Under the glass shade on the top of the formicary may be seen the mound which the wood-ants have raised, according to their custom, and below, through the glass front, the reader may see the various passages and cells which communicate with the hill above. As the ants require that the lower part of their dwelling should be in darkness, a stout wooden door can be shut over the glass to exclude the light.]
There is this remarkable difference in the nest of the wood-ants, that they do not construct a long covert way as if for concealment, as the yellow and the brown ants do. The wood-ants are not, like them, afraid of being surprised by enemies, at least during the day, when the whole colony is either foraging in the vicinity or employed on the exterior. But the proceedings of the wood-ants at night are well worthy of notice; and when M. Huber began to study their economy, he directed his entire attention to their night proceedings. “I remarked,” says he, "that their habitations changed in appearance hourly, and that the diameter of those spacious avenues, where so many ants could freely pass each other during the day, was, as night approached, gradually lessened. The aperture, at length, totally disappeared, the dome was closed on all sides, and the ants retired to the bottom of their nest.
"In further noticing the apertures of these ant-hills, I fully ascertained the nature of the labour of its inhabitants, of which I could not before even guess the purport; for the surface of the nest presented such a constant scene of agitation, and so many insects were occupied in carrying materials in every direction, that the movement offered no other image than that of confusion.
"I saw then clearly that they were engaged in stopping up passages; and for this purpose they at first brought forward little pieces of wood, which they deposited near the entrance of those avenues they wished to close; they placed them in the stubble; they then went to seek other twigs and fragments of wood, which they disposed above the first, but in a different direction, and appeared to choose pieces of less size in proportion as the work advanced. They, at length, brought in a number of dried leaves, and other materials of an enlarged form, with which they covered the roof: an exact miniature of the art of our builders, when they form the covering of any building. Nature, indeed, seems everywhere to have anticipated the inventions of which we boast, and this is doubtless one of the most simple.
“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, while 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 their 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 remained closed. When the sky was cloudy in the morning, or rain was indicated, the ants, who seemed to be aware of it, opened but in part their several avenues, and immediately closed them when the rain commenced.”[DC]
The galleries and chambers which are roofed in as thus described are very similar to those of the mason-ants, being partly excavated in the earth, and partly built with the clay thence procured. It is in these they pass the night, and also the colder months of the winter, when they become torpid, or nearly so, and of course require not the winter granaries of corn with which the ancients fabulously furnished them.
Carpenter-Ants.
The ants that work in wood perform much more extensive operations than any of the other carpenter insects which we have mentioned. Their only tools, like those of bees and wasps, are their jaws or mandibles; but though these may not appear so curiously constructed as the ovipositor file of the tree-hopper (Cicada), or the rasp and saw of the saw-flies (Tenthredinidæ), they are no less efficient in the performance of what is required. Among the carpenter-ants, the emmet or jet-ant (F. fuliginosa) holds the first rank, and is easily known by being rather less in size than the wood-ant, and by its fine shining black colour. It is less common in Britain than some of the preceding, though its colonies may occasionally be met with in the trunks of decaying oak or willow trees in hedges.
“The labourers,” says Huber, "of this species work always in the interior of trees, and are desirous of being screened from observation: thus every hope on our part is precluded of following them in their several occupations. I tried every expedient I could devise to surmount this difficulty; I endeavoured to accustom these ants to live and work under my inspection, but all my efforts were unsuccessful; they even abandoned the most considerable portion of their nest to seek some new asylum, and spurned the honey and sugar which I offered them for nourishment. I was now, by necessity, limited to the inspection only of their edifices: but, by decomposing some of the fragments with care, I hoped to acquire some knowledge of their organization.
"On one side I found horizontal galleries, hidden in great part by their walls, which follow the circular direction of the layers of the wood; and on another, parallel galleries, separated by extremely thin partitions, having no communication except by a few oval apertures. Such is the nature of these works, remarkable for their delicacy and lightness.
"In other fragments I found avenues which opened laterally, including portions of walls and transverse partitions, erected here and there within the galleries, so as to form separate chambers. When the work is further advanced, round holes are always observed, encased, as it were, between two pillars cut out in the same wall. These holes in course of time become square, and the pillars, originally arched at both ends, are worked into regular columns by the chisel of our sculptors. This, then, is the second specimen of their art. This portion of the edifice will probably remain in this state.
"But in another quarter are fragments differently wrought, in which these same partitions, pierced now in every part, and hewn skilfully, are transformed into colonnades, which sustain the upper stories, and leave a free communication throughout the whole extent. It can readily be perceived how parallel galleries, hollowed out upon the same plan, and the sides taken down, leaving only from space to space what is necessary to sustain their ceilings, may form an entire story; but as each has been pierced separately, the flooring cannot be very level: this, however, the ants turn to their advantage, since these furrows are better adapted to retain the larvæ that may be placed there.
"The stories constructed in the great roots offer greater irregularity than those in the very body of the tree, arising either from the hardness and interlacing of the fibres, which renders the labour more difficult, and obliges the labourers to depart from their accustomed manner, or from their not observing in the extremities of their edifice the same arrangement as in the centre: whatever it be, horizontal stories and numerous partitions are still found. If the work be less regular, it becomes more delicate; for the ants, profiting by the hardness and solidity of the materials, give to their building an extreme degree of lightness. I have seen fragments of from eight to ten inches in length, and of equal height, formed of wood as thin as paper, containing a number of apartments, and presenting a most singular appearance. At the entrance of these apartments, worked out with so much care, are very considerable openings; but in place of chambers and extensive galleries, the layers of the wood are hewn in arcades, allowing the ants a free passage in every direction. These may be regarded as the gates or vestibules conducting to the several lodges."[DD]
It is a singular circumstance in the structures of these ants, that all the wood which they carve is tinged of a black colour, as if it were smoked; and M. Huber was not a little solicitous to discover whence this arose. It certainly does not add to the beauty of their streets, which look as sombre as the most smoke-dyed walls in the older lanes of the metropolis. M. Huber could not satisfy himself whether it was caused by the exposure of the wood to the atmosphere, by some emanation from the ants, or by the thin layers of wood being acted upon or decomposed by the formic acid.[DE] But if any or all of these causes operated in blackening the wood, we should be ready to anticipate a similar effect in the case of other species of ants which inhabit trees; yet the black tint is only found in the excavations of the jet-ant.
We are acquainted with several colonies of the jet-ants (Formica fuliginosa)—one of which, in the roots and trunk of an oak on the road from Lewisham to Sydenham, near Brockley, in Kent, is so extremely populous, that the numbers of its inhabitants appeared to us beyond any reasonable estimate. None of the other colonies of this species which we have seen appear to contain many hundreds. On cutting into the root of the before-mentioned tree, we found the vertical excavations of much larger dimensions, both in width and depth, than those represented by Huber in the preceding cut (page 302). What surprised us the most was to see the tree growing vigorously and fresh, though its roots were chiseled in all directions by legions of workers, while every leaf, and every inch of the bark, was also crowded by parties of foragers. On one of the low branches we found a deserted nest of the white-throat (Sylvia cinerea, Temminck), in the cavity of which they were piled upon one another as close as the unhappy negroes in the hold of a slave-ship; but we could not discover what had attracted them hither. Another dense group, collected on one of the branches, led us to the discovery of a very singular oak gall, formed on the bark in the shape of a pointed cone, and crowded together. It is probable that the juice which they extracted from these galls was much to their taste. (J. R.)
Beside the jet-ant, several other species exercise the art of carpentry,—nay, what is more wonderful still, they have the ingenuity to knead up, with spider’s-web for a cement, the chips which they chisel out into a material with which they construct entire chambers. The species which exercise this singular art are the Ethiopian (Formica nigra) and the yellow ant (F. flava).[DF]
We once observed the dusky ants (F. fusca) at Blackheath, in Kent, busily employed in carrying out chips from the interior of a decaying black poplar, at the root of which a colony was established; but, though it thence appears that this species can chisel wood if they choose, yet they usually burrow in the earth, and by preference, as we have remarked, at the root of a tree, the leaves of which supply them with food.
* * * * *
Among the foreign ants we may mention a small yellow ant of South America, described by Dampier, which seems, from his account, to construct a nest of green leaves. “Their sting,” he says, “is like a spark of fire; and they are so thick among the boughs in some places, that one shall be covered with them before he is aware. These creatures have nests on great trees, placed on the body between the limbs: some of their nests are as big as a hogshead. This is their winter habitation; for in the wet season they all repair to these their cities, where they preserve their eggs. In the dry season, when they leave their nests, they swarm all over the woodlands, for they never trouble the savannahs. Great paths, three or four inches broad, made by them, may be seen in the woods. They go out light, but bring home heavy loads on their backs, all of the same substance, and equal in size. I never observed anything besides pieces of green leaves, so big that I could scarcely see the insect for his burthen; yet they would march stoutly, and so many were pressing forward that it was a very pretty sight, for the path looked perfectly green with them.”
Ants observed in New South Wales, by the gentlemen in the expedition under Captain Cook, are still more interesting. “Some,” we are told, "are as green as a leaf, and live upon trees, where they build their nests of various sizes, between that of a man’s head and his fist. These nests are of a very curious structure: they are formed by bending down several of the leaves, each of which is as broad as a man’s hand, and gluing the points of them together, so as to form a purse. The viscous matter used for this purpose is an animal juice which nature has enabled them to elaborate. Their method of first bending down the leaves we had no opportunity to observe; but we saw thousands uniting all their strength to hold them in this position, while other busy multitudes were employed within in applying this gluten that was to prevent their returning back. To satisfy ourselves that the leaves were bent and held down by the efforts of these diminutive artificers, we disturbed them in their work; and as soon as they were driven from their stations, the leaves on which they were employed sprang up with a force much greater than we could have thought them able to conquer by any combination of their strength. But, though we gratified our curiosity at their expense, the injury did not go unrevenged; for thousands immediately threw themselves upon us, and gave us intolerable pain with their stings, especially those which took possession of our necks and hair, from whence they were not easily driven. Their sting was scarcely less painful than that of a bee; but, except it was repeated, the pain did not last more than a minute.
"Another sort are quite black, and their operation and manner of life are not less extraordinary. Their habitations are the inside of the branches of a tree, which they contrive to excavate by working out the pith almost to the extremity of the slenderest twig, the tree at the same time flourishing as if it had no such inmate. When we first found the tree we gathered some of the branches, and were scarcely less astonished than we should have been to find that we had profaned a consecrated grove, where every tree, upon being wounded, gave signs of life; for we were instantly covered with legions of these animals, swarming from every broken bough, and inflicting their stings with incessant violence.
“A third kind we found nested in the root of a plant, which grows on the bark of trees in the manner of mistletoe, and which they had perforated for that use. This root is commonly as big as a large turnip, and sometimes much bigger. When we cut it we found it intersected by innumerable winding passages, all filled with these animals, by which, however, the vegetation of the plant did not appear to have suffered any injury. We never cut one of these roots that was not inhabited, though some were not bigger than a hazel-nut. The animals themselves are very small, not more than half as big as the common red ant in England. They had stings, but scarcely force enough to make them felt: they had, however, a power of tormenting us in an equal, if not in a greater degree; for the moment we handled the root, they swarmed from innumerable holes, and running about those parts of the body that were uncovered, produced a titillation more intolerable than pain, except it is increased to great violence.”[DG]
The species called sugar-ants in the West Indies are particularly destructive to the sugar-cane, as well as to lime, lemon, and orange-trees, by excavating their nests at the roots, and so loosening the earth that they are frequently uprooted and blown down by the winds. If this does not happen, the roots are deprived of due nourishment, and the plants become sickly and die.[DH]
[One or two examples of foreign ants are well worthy of notice. The first of them is an insect whose habits bear strongly upon the familiar passage in Proverbs, ch. vi. v. 6:—
Which having no guide, overseer, or ruler,
Provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest."
This passage is one that has been often mentioned as a proof that the Bible is not to be implicitly trusted. Judging from all the species of ants known to entomologists, some writers argue that the author of the proverb in question was ignorant of the real history of the ant, and was taking up a popular fallacy.
[Still, although the ants of the old world are chiefly carnivorous, or feed on soft substances, and in consequence have not the least idea of hoarding food for the winter, there is one species of Brazilian ant which absolutely builds houses, prepares ground, sows seed, reaps the grain, and stores it away for future consumption. It is the Agricultural Ant, Atta malefaciens, first described by Dr. Lincecum, who watched the insect for twelve years before publishing an account that he knew would at first be received with incredulity. The following abstract of his paper appeared in the Journal of the Linnæan Society.
"The species which I have named ‘Agricultural’ is a large brownish ant. It dwells in what may be termed paved cities, and like a thrifty, diligent, provident farmer, makes suitable and timely arrangements for the changing seasons. It is, in short, endowed with skill, ingenuity, and untiring patience, sufficient to enable it successfully to contend with the varying exigencies which it may have to encounter in the life conflict.
"When it has selected a situation for its habitation, if on ordinary dry ground, it bores a hole, around which it raises the surface three and sometimes six inches, forming a low circular mound, having a very gentle inclination from the centre to the outer border, which on an average is three or four feet from the entrance. But if the location is chosen on low, flat, wet land, liable to inundation, though the ground may be perfectly dry at the time the ant sets to work, it nevertheless elevates the mound, in the form of a pretty sharp cone, to the height of fifteen or twenty inches or more, and makes the entrance near the summit. Around the mound, in either case, the ant clears the ground of all obstructions, and levels and marks the surface to the distance of three or four feet from the gate of the city, giving the space the appearance of a handsome pavement, as it really is.
"Within this paved area not a blade of any green thing is allowed to grow, except a single species of grain-bearing grass. Having planted this crop in a circle around, and two or three feet from the centre of the mound, the insect tends and cultivates it with constant care, cutting away all other grasses and weeds that may spring up amongst it, and all around outside the farm circle to the extent of one or two feet more. The cultivated grass grows luxuriantly, and produces a heavy crop of small, white, flinty seeds, which under the microscope very closely resemble ordinary rice. When ripe, it is carefully harvested and carried by the workers, chaff and all, into the granary cells, where it is divested of the chaff and packed away. The chaff is taken out and thrown beyond the limits of the paved area.
"During protracted wet weather it sometimes happens that the provision-stores become damp, and are liable to sprout and spoil. In this case, on the first fine day, the ants bring out the damp and damaged grain, and expose it to the sun till it is dry, when they carry it back and pack away all the sound seeds, leaving those that had sprouted to waste.
"In a peach orchard not far from my house is a considerable elevation, on which is an extensive bed of rock. In the sand-beds overlying portions of this rock are five cities of the agricultural ants, evidently very ancient. My observations on their manners and customs have been limited to the last twelve years, during which time the inclosure surrounding the orchard has prevented the approach of cattle to the ant-farms. The cities which are outside the inclosure, as well as those protected in it, are at the proper season invariably planted with the ant-rice. The crop may accordingly always be seen springing up within the circle about the 1st of November every year. Of late years, however, since the number of farms and cattle has greatly increased, and the latter are eating off the grass much closer than formerly, thus preventing the ripening of the seeds, I notice that the agricultural ant is placing its cities along the turn-rows in the fields, walks in gardens, inside about the gates, &c., where they can cultivate their farms without molestation from the cattle.
"There can be no doubt that the particular species of grain-bearing grass mentioned above is intentionally planted. In farmer-like manner the ground upon which it stands is carefully divested of all other grasses and weeds during the time it is growing. When it is ripe, the grain is taken care of, the dry stubble cut away and carried off, the paved area being left unencumbered until the ensuing autumn, when the same ant-rice reappears within the same circle, and receives the same agricultural attention as was bestowed upon the previous crop—and so on, year after year, as I know to be the case, in all situations where the ants’ settlements are protected from granivorous animals."
This interesting account is simply the result of twelve years’ patient investigation on the part of Dr. Lincecum, who took special care not to invent a theory and to twist facts in accordance with it, but watched the entire proceedings of the insects for a series of years.
The preceding illustration represents the rather remarkable nest of an Australian ant, belonging to the genus Crematogaster. This word signifies “hanging-belly,” and the name has been applied to the ant in consequence of the manner in which its abdomen is held up in the air, so that it overhangs the back.
As may be seen, the nest is of considerable size, and might from its external appearance be mistaken for that of a wasp. The interior of it, however, is even more elaborate, being full of little covered passages interlacing with each other in a most intricate manner, but all leading to the internal galleries.
The two nests which are shown in the next illustration are, if possible, still more remarkable.
The upper one is found in Cayenne, and is made by an insect called the fungus ant (Polyrachis bispinosa), because the nest looks as if it were made of fungus. It is not, however, composed of that material, but of the fibre of the cotton-tree (Bombax ceiba).
The fibre is in itself very short, barely exceeding an inch in length, but it is cut very much shorter by the ant, who contrives to felt it together in a most curious manner, so that it is hardly possible to trace the course of any one fibre. The size of the nest is, on an average, about eight or nine inches in diameter. The insect itself is given in the preceding illustration, but very much enlarged. If the reader will look at the centre of the body, he will see the projections which have given it the name of bispinosa, or two-spined.
The lower figure represents the nest of another species of ant belonging to the same genus, and called scientifically, Polyrachis textor. The nest is most ingeniously made of little pieces of wood and tendrils, put together so as to form a kind of open net-work, through which the interior of the nest is plainly visible. This insect inhabits Malacca.]
STRUCTURES OF WHITE ANTS, OR TERMITES.
When we look back upon the details which we have given of the industry and ingenuity of numerous tribes of insects, both solitary and social, we are induced to think it almost impossible that they could be surpassed. The structures of wasps and bees, and still more those of the wood-ant (Formica rufa), when placed in comparison with the size of the insects, equal our largest cities compared with the stature of man. But when we look at the buildings erected by the white ants of tropical climates, all that we have been surveying dwindles into insignificance. Their industry appears greatly to surpass that of our ants and bees, and they are certainly more skilful in architectural contrivances. The elevation, also, of their edifices is more than five hundred times the height of the builders. Were our houses built according to the same proportions, they would be twelve or fifteen times higher than the London Monument, and four or five times higher than the pyramids of Egypt, with corresponding dimensions in the basements of the edifices. These statements are, perhaps, necessary to impress the extraordinary labours of ants upon the mind; for we are all more or less sensible to the force of comparisons. The analogies between the works of insects and of men are not perfect; for insects are all provided with instruments peculiarly adapted to the end which they instinctively seek, while man has to form a plan by progressive thought, and upon the experience of others, and to complete it with tools which he also invents.
The termites do not stand above a quarter of an inch high, while their nests are frequently twelve feet, and Jobson mentions some which he had seen as high as twenty feet; “of compass,” he adds, "to contain a dozen men, with the heat of the sun baked into that hardness, that we used to hide ourselves in the ragged tops of them when we took up stands to shoot at deer or wild beasts."[DI] Bishop Heber saw a number of these high ant-hills in India, near the principal entrance of the Sooty or Moorshedabad river. “Many of them,” he says, “were five or six feet high, and probably seven or eight feet in circumference at the base, partially overgrown with grass and ivy, and looking at a distance like the stumps of decayed trees. I think it is Ctesias, among the Greek writers, who gives an account alluded to by Lucian in his ‘Cock,’ of monstrous ants in India, as large as foxes. The falsehood probably originated in the stupendous fabrics which they rear here, and which certainly might be supposed to be the work of a much larger animal than their real architect.”[DJ] Herodotus has a similar fable of the enormous size and brilliant appearance of the ants of India.
Nor is it only in constructing dwellings for themselves that the termites of Africa and of other hot climates employ their masonic skill. Though, like our ants and wasps, they are almost omnivorous, yet wood, particularly when felled and dry, seems their favourite article of food; but they have an utter aversion to feeding in the light, and always eat their way with all expedition to the interior. It thence would seem necessary for them either to leave the bark of a tree, or the outer portion of the beam or door of a house, undevoured, or to eat in open day. They do neither; but are at the trouble of constructing galleries of clay, in which they can conceal themselves, and feed in security. In all their foraging excursions, indeed, they build covert ways, by which they can go out and return to their encampment.[DK]
Others of the species (for there are several), instead of building galleries, exercise the art of miners, and make their approaches under ground, penetrating beneath the foundation of houses or areas, and rising again either through the floors, or by entering the bottom of the posts that support the building, when they follow the course of the fibres, and make their way to the top, boring holes and cavities in different places as they proceed. Multitudes enter the roof, and intersect it with pipes or galleries, formed of wet clay, which serve for passages in all directions, and enable them more readily to fix their habitations in it. They prefer the softer woods, such as pine and fir, which they hollow out with such nicety, that they leave the surface whole, after having eaten away the inside. A shelf or plank attacked in this manner looks solid to the eye, when, if weighed, it will not out-balance two sheets of pasteboard of the same dimensions. It sometimes happens that they carry this operation so far on stakes in the open air, as to render the bark too flexible for their purpose; when they remedy the defect by plastering the whole stick with a sort of mortar which they make with clay, so that, on being struck, the form vanishes, and the artificial covering falls in fragments on the ground. In the woods, when a large tree falls from age or accident, they enter it on the side next the ground, and devour it at leisure, till little more than the bark is left. But in this case they take no precaution of strengthening the outward defence, but leave it in such a state as to deceive an eye unaccustomed to see trees thus gutted of their insides: and “you may as well,” says Mr. Smeathman, “step upon a cloud.” It is an extraordinary fact, that when these creatures have formed pipes in the roof of a house, instinct directs them to prevent its fall, which would ensue from their having sapped the posts on which it rests; but as they gnaw away the wood, they fill up the interstices with clay, tempered to a surprising degree of hardness, so that, when the house is pulled down, these posts are transformed from wood to stone. They make the walls of their galleries of the same composition as their nests, varying the materials according to their kind; one species using the red clay, another black clay, and the third a woody substance, cemented with gums, as a security from the attacks of their enemies, particularly the common ant, which, being defended by a strong, horny shell, is more than a match for them, and when it can get at them, rapaciously seizes them, and drags them to its nest for food for its young brood. If any accident breaks down part of their walls, they repair the breach with all speed. Instinct guides them to perform their office in the creation, by mostly confining their attacks to trees that are beginning to decay, or such timber as has been severed from its roots for use, and would decay in time. Vigorous, healthy trees do not require to be destroyed, and accordingly, these consumers have no taste for them.[DL]
M. Adanson describes the termites of Senegal as constructing covert ways along the surface of wood which they intend to attack; but though we have no reason to distrust so excellent a naturalist, in describing what he saw, it is certain that they more commonly eat their way into the interior of the wood, and afterwards form the galleries, when they find that they have destroyed the wood till it will no longer afford them protection.
But it is time that we should come to their principal building, which may, with some propriety, be called a city; and, according to the method we have followed in other instances, we shall trace their labours from the commencement. We shall begin with the operations of the species which may be appropriately termed the Warrior (Termes fatalis, Linn.; T. bellicosus, Smeath.).
We must premise, that though they have been termed white ants, they do not belong to the same order of insects with our ants; yet they have a slight resemblance to ants in their form, but more in their economy. Smeathman, to whom we owe our chief knowledge of the genus, describes them as consisting of kings, queens, soldiers, and workers, and is of opinion that the workers are larvæ, the soldiers nymphæ, and the kings and queens the perfect insects. In this opinion he coincides with Sparrmann[DM] and others; but Latreille is inclined to think, from what he observed in a European species (Termes lucifugus) found near Bordeaux, that the soldiers form a distinct race, like the neuter workers among bees and ants, while the working termites are larvæ,[DN] which are furnished with strong mandibles for gnawing; when they become nymphs, the rudiments of four wings appear, which are fully developed in the perfect insects.